Author's note: AAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH! Bex will tell you the problems I've been having with this chapter. But I've done it. I've actually done it!

Rimmer watched the girls carefully as they scribbled their answers furiously. It was incredible: three weeks ago they wouldn't have known what fractional distillation was to save their lives; now they didn't seem to have enough time to get down all their knowledge! Rimmer glanced at his watch.
"Pens down!"
"Oh!" Bex moaned, "Just one more minute! I know it, honest!"
"Rebecca..."
Robyn leaned over to Bex, "Just do what he says, Bex. He knows best."
"You're only saying that 'cos you're practically in love with him!" Bex retorted. Gemma, Liz and Laura spluttered with laughter. Robyn and Rimmer turned red. Bex grinned.
"It's true!" Laura said, "You've got 'I love AR' all over your books!"
"So? That doesn't necessarily mean Rimmer!"
"Well who else does it mean then?"
"Just shut up! And you take it back!" Robyn yelled.
"Shan't," Bex stated.
"You take it back RIGHT NOW!"
"Or what?"
"I don't know!" Robyn squeaked, "I'll go on about your Chunky Man Fingers."
"Don't you dare!"
"Go on, Robyn," Liz joined in, "You know you want to!"
"You can shut up as well!"
"Girls!" Rimmer snapped, "That's enough!"
"Sorry, sir," they said in unison.
"Besides," he continued with a dry grin, "I'm accounted for."
"Who?" Laura asked.
"Never you mind! You're here to learn, not to gossip."
The whole class groaned.
"All you need to know is that I'm seeing her tonight at seven at Parrot's Café," the information spurted out of his mouth before he could stop it. The girls looked amongst themselves. Rimmer could practically see their plan hatching in front of his eyes.
"Don't think you lot are going to be there! Just remember," he rustled their papers to illustrate his point, "I can make or break your grade on this thing."

Rimmer sat at the table Nicole had booked for them and waited. He was much less nervous this time. Since the whole extremely-passionate-kiss-in-front-of-Lister fiasco he had had no doubts that this woman liked him. And he certainly didn't have any doubts that he liked her back. She arrived slightly late and very apologetic.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry," she babbled as she sat with him, "Babysitter problems. Faiyre, that's my eldest, she kept on at me that she could take care of things, but I just don't trust her enough," she looked at Rimmer's expression and apologised again, "Sorry, that's not interesting."
Rimmer blinked. He had been completely lost in her from the second she walked through the door.
"How are you?" he smiled.
"I'm fine, thank you," she replied, "You?"
"I'm not sure."
"Oh? What's the problem?"
"Er," Rimmer squeaked. He couldn't believe he was going to say this. Him. Arnold J. Rimmer. He took a deep breath, "Nikki, I know this is only our fourth date, but I really feel a strong connection between us. Ever since I first met you I've wanted to get to know you better, and I'm glad I did. I just want you to know that…well…Nikki, I think I'm in lo-"
"Are you ready to order?" a bright young waitress interrupted. Rimmer fought back the urge to take his water and tip it over her head. Then smash her face in with her tray. Then force-feed her one of the God-awful omelettes they made here.
"Not just yet, thank you," he said, politely. The waitress smiled and glided back to the counter.
"You were saying…" Nicole prompted Rimmer, but it was too late. His nerve had gone.
"Doesn't matter," he muttered, "It can wait."
They spent the rest of the evening laughing and chatting as they usually did, all the time Rimmer trying to pick a good moment to attempt to tell her what he had wanted to tell her since the evening of their first date. He never got a chance and before he knew it, both their meals had been eaten and they were ready to leave.
At the exit the footman handed Rimmer his coat, "For you, sir."
Rimmer nodded and took it.
"And for your wife," he handed Nicole her coat. Rimmer froze while Nicole laughed.
"We're not married," she informed the footman who seemed taken aback.
"Really? But you seem so…never mind."
Nicole laughed again, shook her head and waltzed out of the door. Rimmer stiffly followed her.

As they did on every date they went on, they ended up at the botanical gardens. They sat on a bench and there was a silence. Rimmer knew this was the ideal time to say it. It was peaceful, there were flowers all around them, and a moon was glinting through one of the windows. But he was scared. Scared that she'd laugh at him. Scared that she'd walk away from him. And probably the most scared that she'd say it back. Nicole must have sensed something was bothering him because she put a hand on his knee.
"OK, what's the problem? You've been weird all night."
"Nikki, I…" oh, God, how should he say this? Should he be suave like he says it all the time? Or nervous so he seemed vulnerable? How much emotion should he put into it? And how much would make him seem desperate? He looked into her eyes and it came to him: he should say it how he means it.
"Nikki, I love you."
"Oh, Arnie…" she sighed and kissed him. When she drew back she said four words – just four – and Rimmer was sent to Cloud 9, "I love you, too."