A week went by. Rimmer went to a doctor and got the all clear, (although he knew it didn't necessarily guarantee that Dave didn't have anything; it just meant that he'd been lucky), and started to think seriously about formulating a plan.

Financially, Dave had been right. Rimmer just didn't have a thousand dollarpounds to give him; although it was a sign of just how deeply he'd fallen for him that he would have done it in a shot, had he been able. He could afford to see him maybe four more times, but Dave would only ever get a fraction of that money. Any tips he gave him were likely to be confiscated and shared out between the workers, or at the very least reduced significantly by the pimps taking a cut. And quite frankly, even if none of those things were a problem, it would still get Dave nowhere near the amount of cash he needed. Obviously, money was not going to be the way to solve this. He had to talk to Dave; find out some more information.

He went back to the brothel at eight o'clock that Friday; and was a little unnerved to find the place a lot busier than the last time he'd visited. He actually had to queue at reception. "Sorry about the wait," the blonde woman tinkled when he reached her, "I'll just fetch you our catalogue."

"That's okay," Rimmer stopped her, "I know who I want. Could I have two hours with Dave, please?"

"Which Dave?" she asked him, "We have two."

"Dave Lister."

"I'm afraid he's with another client right now," the woman told him apologetically.

Rimmer felt a sudden surge of emotion in his gut. He felt sick and more than a little jealous. It was stupid, he knew it was, but he couldn't help it. He knew well enough what Dave did for a living; it was how he'd found him, for God's sake! It had been foolish and naive of him not to have thought about the fact that Dave would have other customers. He didn't have to like it though. "I'll wait if you don't mind," he told the woman stiffly.

"They'll be another forty-five minutes yet," she told him.

"That's okay."

"Well, if you're sure," she gave him an odd look and shrugged, "Take a seat over there."

He sat straight-backed in a chair to one side of the room while hordes of other men swarmed around him. His brain was tormenting him with images of some bronzed Brad Pitt look-a-like having his way with Dave while he sat here like a fool. By the time the woman finally came over to arrange the details with him and show him to a room – nearly an hour later – he'd worked himself up to such a pitch of jealousy he could barely move.

He was taken to a different room from the last time he'd visited, further down the hall. It was bigger than the other one, and slightly cleaner too, but he didn't notice any of that at first because Dave was already in there, stark naked and rubbing himself down with a small towel. He'd obviously been given time to shower before entertaining another customer. He smiled warmly when he saw Rimmer, but there were dark circles under his eyes and he looked tired. "Hey, it's you! I wondered whether you'd actually come back."

"I said I would," Rimmer replied.

"No offence, man, but I hear that a lot," Dave told him, "And more than half of 'em I've never seen again."

"Well, I'm different," Rimmer said, "You can trust me."

"I'll remember that," Dave said, smiling.

Rimmer approached him shyly, "How...how have you been?"

"Um...Fine, I suppose," Dave seemed a little bemused, "And you?"

"Oh, fine, fine. I've, er...I've been thinking about you an awful lot," Rimmer admitted, blushing. "Well," Dave said kindly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, "You don't have to think anymore because you've got me all to yourself for the next two hours."

"No, you don't understand," Rimmer told him hurriedly, "I don't want sex."

Dave blinked. "What?" he said blankly.

"It's not that I don't want to," Rimmer said desperately, "I mean, I think you're incredible and last time was...well, it was the best night of my whole life. But I know you're not gay and hell, even if you were I doubt if you'd want me. And you look so tired as it is..." Rimmer realised he was babbling and he stopped himself. "I just don't want to use you the way all those other gits do," he said slowly, "I don't want to hurt you or make you do anything you won't enjoy. But, if it's okay," he looked down embarrassed, "I would like to just hold you for a while."

"If it's okay with me?" Lister looked like he might burst out laughing, but a combination of not wanting to hurt Rimmer's feelings and simple bemusement held him back. "I don't understand," he shook his head, "Why would you come here and pay this kind of money just for a cuddle?"

"I just wanted to see you. To talk to you and, well, just be with you. I meant what I said the other night; I think I'm in love with you."

Dave stared at him, astounded, "You were right," he said weakly, "You really are different."

"So...Can I?" Rimmer asked tentatively and at that Dave did start laughing,

"You can do whatever you want! You've paid for the privilege! But if a cuddle is what you want, then I'll happily oblige. Come here, then." Rimmer smiled and joined him on the bed. Sitting back, propped against the pillows, he wrapped his arms around Dave's naked body and held him close against his chest. "You really are a very strange man, Arnold," he heard him say, not unkindly.

"Call me Arnie," he replied softly.