Author's note: A follow up to 'Love and Lies'. This is a bit more of a Lister-y fic, inspiration from reddwarfaddict that Lister should be more jealous. I'm also taking a leaf out of her book by just…writing. No stable plotline. I'm just gonna write it and see what happens. Bear with me, this is a new experience for me!
One more thing: today (10 October 2005) is my one year anniversary on this site! Which is why I thought I'd wait until now to post this story. #awaits cards, presents and a large cake#
Ciao!

Nicole took off her black hat and smoothed down her black skirt. Rimmer undid his black tie. Gemma hung up her black cardigan. Funerals, she thought as she joined them on the sofa, I could do without them. Still, it was her one opportunity to say a last goodbye to her sister. Her untimely and horrific death was starting to sink in, and she felt a lot better having gone to the funeral. Rimmer also felt better. He felt closer to Gemma and Nikki now, like they were a proper family, and despite not having known Faiyre all that well, he kept fond memories that would last. Nicole was taking it worst of all. She blindly refused to accept her death for days after it happened. Had it been a more peaceful death she may have coped better, but being blown up in a stolen Starbug isn't everyone's, if anyone's, preferred way to go.
"Are you OK?" Rimmer asked her softly, in the same way he had asked her just before the funeral, and just after it, and just before they'd stepped back into the room.
"I'm fine," Nicole said shakily, "Just…tired, I guess."
Rimmer hugged her closer and kissed her on the forehead, "Are you going to go back to work tomorrow?"
"I suppose so," she sighed, "I need to get back into a routine."
After a pause she sighed again and got up to put the kettle on. She leant on the kitchen counter and squinted her eyes closed; sometimes if she made her vision go blank, she could imagine Faiyre was still there with them. But not this time. She turned back to her fiancé and smiled weakly, "Do you think you'll start work this week?"
"Probably next week."
"Right."
After the Red Dwarf Employment Council had heard about Rimmer's tutoring, they had had two options: one was to press charges on the grounds that he was practicing teaching without a license; the other was to train him properly and make him a fully-qualified teacher. They opted for the latter, to Rimmer's great relief and excitement.
"Do you think you'll end up being my teacher?" Gemma asked. Rimmer and Nicole stared at her; that was the first time she'd spoken since she'd found out about Faiyre's death.
Rimmer fumbled over the shock, "Er, well, I…we…we'll have to wait and see, won't we?"
Gemma nodded, and even smiled a little bit.
"Gem?" Gemma looked up at her mother, "You don't have to go back to school straight away. Not if you don't want to. I can tell the teacher's that you're feeling a bit-"
"No," Gemma interrupted, not wanting to be reminded that what she felt 'a bit' of was 'suicidally depressive', "I want to go back. I wanna see the girls again."
Nicole stroked Gemma's hair and kissed her on the forehead, "Whatever you want, sweetheart."

Although Gemma didn't know it, Liz, Bex, Laura and Robyn had all spent the last week feeling like shit, too. Although they certainly hadn't known Faiyre as well as Gemma, being there at the time of her death had made them feel a connection with her. Perhaps a connection they never would have felt if they'd known her. Robyn in particular was decidedly shaken up, having to cope with a death alongside one of her greatest loves being critically ill in hospital. Liz and Bex just forced themselves to cope with it, whilst Laura, in a stark contrast to Robyn, seemed to draw some sort of inspiration from Faiyre's death. Whenever the group had spent time with Gemma, it had been an awkward meeting. It was always more like they were strangers forced to talk about their deepest, darkest secrets, rather than a group of friends who could – but didn't have to – talk about a very publicised event.
Gemma had privately hated the media attention that Faiyre's death had attracted. True, Faiyre had always wanted to be the centre of attention, but Gemma wanted her to lead a peaceful afterlife…if afterlives existed. She hoped they did. Although with the way everyone kept talking about her, and reliving that horrific day…those horrific twenty seconds…Faiyre would never get the chance to pass from this world to the next. Gemma also didn't like her mum and Rimmer being pestered constantly, asked to give interviews, photo shoots, tell stories about Faiyre…it made her very angry that her family weren't being allowed to move on from this disaster.

"Have you got all your stuff moved over from your quarters?" Nicole asked Rimmer.
"Nearly," he replied, "Lister said he'd help me move the last few bits."
"Well, you might as well go and make a start now."
"There's no rush."
Nicole sighed and gave him a look.
"What?" Rimmer asked.
"Come here a sec," Nicole said, nodding her head to her room. Rimmer got up and joined her at the door.
Nicole dropped her voice to a whisper, "I'm not good at dropping hints; that was my not-so-subtle way of saying I'd like a private word with Gemma."
"Oh," Rimmer understood, "So you want me to smeg off?"
"If you wouldn't mind."
"'Course not," Rimmer said with a smile. He kissed Nicole on the cheek and Gemma on the top of her head, "See you later."
Nicole went to the sofa and sat next to her daughter, pulling her into a close hug.
"What you need to understand," she said, "is that people who have never experienced a sudden death of someone very close can never understand the people who have."
Gemma looked up at her, "What?"
"Until people see we've moved on from…well, you know…they'll keep bothering us in an attempt to know what we're going through. But they never will."
Gemma sniffed, "I know. There's no way they can imagine this feeling. Like there's a stone in the bottom of your stomach, and a weight pushing on the top of your head. And they keep pulling you down. Dragging you towards a…a pit of depression."
Nicole's eyes misted over; she'd never heard her daughter speak so poetically before. It pained her to know the first time she was doing so was because someone had died. And not just anyone – her daughter. Letting just one tear flow down her cheek, she nodded and hugged Gemma again, "Exactly. So just ignore the people who don't understand."
Gemma sighed shakily, "I do."
She bit her lip. 'I try' would have been a more truthful statement.