Author's note: !Continuity Alert! I said in the last chapter that they were going to study metal compounds, but apparantly they're studying maths again. And I can't be bothered to change it. Please don't lower your opinion of me!
Gemma racked her brain, "Um…tw-twenty…" she stuttered whilst Rimmer nodded encouragement, "twenty…two?"
"Close," Rimmer corrected her, "Twenty four. Remember how we should carry the two?" he showed her the page in the textbook they had just revised. She didn't look at it. She didn't look up at all. She just stared disheartened at the floor. Rimmer gazed at her for a while then snapped the book closed.
"Why don't we take a break from studying and go for a drink or something?"
It wasn't a study break, although Rimmer didn't let this on to Gemma; this was a study in social interaction. The plan was that they would find somewhere to get a drink and a snack, then Rimmer would pretend to see someone who he urgently needed to talk to, give Gemma the money and ask her to get the drinks for them. It would undoubtedly boost her confidence and make her more comfortable with other people. It was an excellent plan, if Rimmer were to be so cocky. Well, he was that cocky. It was an excellent plan! So excellent, in fact, that no sooner had he arrived at the Café Verde (a poky little coffee shop that Rimmer tended to avoid purely because there were usually lots of people there – the very reason he had picked it on this occasion) than he saw Nicole sitting at a table by herself, her hands wrapped around a blue glass. Kill two birds with one stone, Rimmer thought to himself. He rummaged through his pocket to find the change and forced it into Gemma's tense fingers.
"Why don't you get the drinks, Gemma?" He continued despite the horror he could see building in her eyes, "I've just seen someone I really need to speak to. Just order then find a table to sit at; I'll join you soon. I'll have a cappuccino and get whatever you want for yourself." He smiled reassuringly at her and she nodded stiffly. She turned towards the bar and looked up at the man who was standing behind it – a big, burly man with about a gazillion dreadlocks all tied up in a ponytail. Gemma had never been more frightened. She walked up to the counter and managed to squeak out, "A cappuccino and a…and an orange juice," before hastily adding, "please."
The man nodded and smiled; this somehow made him less scary. She felt herself straighten up a little.
"Tall or Grande?" Dreadlock Man asked.
"Pardon?"
"The cappuccino – do you want it Tall or Grande?" he repeated patiently.
"Er…" Rimmer hadn't said. What should she do? "Er, Tall?" She guessed. Dreadlock Man smiled again and poured the drink. Even she had to admit she was doing pretty well. She took the two drinks and carefully carried them over to a table. It wasn't the table she had really wanted to sit at (the one that was away from the busiest part of the café) but she didn't trust herself not to spill any. She sat. And waited.
Meanwhile, Rimmer made his way over to Nicole.
"Hi," he said as he approached her.
"Oh, hi!" She said looking up, "I was wondering if I'd see you again. Especially after what I did the last time…sorry about that, by the way."
"Oh, that's OK! It was nice to see Lister speechless, for once."
Nicole laughed, "Well, fancy meeting you here."
"Small world," Rimmer agreed, "I mean, small ship. Not that it's that small, I mean, it's five miles…" he trailed off, "Sorry."
Rimmer wondered if this social interaction study was for Gemma or for him. Nicole just giggled, "Well, anyway, it is very weird seeing you here. I, er, I don't usually come here. Too crowded for my liking."
"Yeah, me too! I don't come here very often either."
"Huh! Wow, so it must have been fate that brought us together then!" she paused, "I mean, not that I think…I don't believe in…I just meant…" she staggered to a halt before letting out an exasperated sigh, "Oh, that's just great," she muttered, "shut up, Nikki."
Rimmer smiled, "It's no problem, really. I just saw you and wondered if you wanted to set a time for dinner."
"Oh, OK, um…well, how about around seven-thirty?"
"Sounds good. I'll see you then."
"Yep, see you."
And Rimmer had a second date.
He searched the restaurant for Gemma and eventually found her, orange juice half-drunk, an agitated aura about her.
"What's up?" he said sitting down.
"I did it!" Gemma said ecstatically. Rimmer smiled, "I knew you could."
"Um, I've just got a message from my mum," Gemma continued (Rimmer couldn't help but notice the sudden brightness in her tone of voice), "I have to be back for half-six. She's going out tonight and she needs time to find a babysitter. Hey," an idea struck her, "Unless you babysit!"
Rimmer raised an eyebrow; before he'd met Gemma that idea would have been laughable, but now, if he wasn't unavailable, he would jump at the chance, "I'm sorry, Gemma, I'm busy tonight. Any other time you know I would."
Gemma nodded and finished off her drink while Rimmer only just started on his.
"Can I have another?" Gemma asked.
"Sure," Rimmer said getting up. Gemma raised a hand, "No, no, um, it's OK. I'll get it myself. I've still got the change from these drinks. There should be enough." She hopped down from the seat and meandered over to the counter. Rimmer shook his head and sat back down. This truly was excellent!