It had been two weeks since Tim had been brought back as a hologram, and he and Kochanski had picked up their relationship where they'd left it before the accident. As a result, the others seldom saw her.

Tim had taken a couple days to get used to everything. The whole being dead and three million years from home thing had been a bit of a letdown, but with Kochanski to 'comfort' him, he was able to get over it fairly quickly. They were constantly in her quarters, having sex.

Rimmer was grumbling in his sleeping quarters one afternoon, reading a book he'd found in the library when the Cat skated in on some rollerskates, carrying a bouquet of plastic flowers in one hand and a megaphone in the other.

"Attention, lady cats! I am feeling very sexy! Please form a queue! No pushing and shoving!" he announced, doing a perfect twirl in the process. He looked around, but he only saw an irritated Rimmer glaring at him. "What? No girls here? What a waste of a good move! For shame! I'm looking so dangerous, too!" And he proceeded to jig away.

"Cat, what the hell are you doing?" Rimmer demanded.

"I'm courting," Cat replied in a gentlemanly voice.

"Courting who?"

"Whoever shows up!"

"But there aren't any other cats on board."

"If I believed that for one second, I'd go crazy!"

"… You're not now?"

Cat glared at him and proceeded to skate for the door. "Hey, you think Officer Bud Babe would want to go for twofer? Her boyfriend, Goalpost Head, might step out for a moment…"

Rimmer smirked momentarily at the nickname 'Goalpost Head' for Tim before responding, "She's a hologram, Cat. She hasn't got a body for you to have sex with."

"Damn… She looks like she might be able to show someone a good time. Goalpost Head sure seems to have a good time."

"Well, he's a hologram, too. They can touch each other, but nothing else."

Cat shrugged. "Well, I'd better get going. I'm determined to find myself some lady cats."

"There are no cats. If there were, wouldn't you be able to smell them?"

"You never know. Sometimes, lady cats disguise their scent. My mother used to do that with my father all the time." And with that, he spun around on his skates and danced out of the room. "Owwwww! Yeah-yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!"

Rimmer shook his head as he returned to his book. He didn't really care all that much about Kochanski and Tim having sex. It was just annoying that it was all they ever did. Granted, as holograms trapped in deep space, there wasn't much for them to do. They were rarely apart, and they were rarely fully dressed. There was always something going on with them. He couldn't help but feel left out. With the two of them always together, he was forced to rely on Cat, Kryten and Holly for company. Cat was an imbecile, Kryten only liked cleaning and Holly was either too busy or too slow to have a conversation.

He looked around his sleeping quarters. Lister's things were still where they were. He was tempted to just put them in vacuum storage and move his things to a single room. Perhaps that was something he needed to do – get a fresh start. He would find another quarters to sleep in. Maybe something on the Officer's Deck. After all, who was going to stop him? It might be nice. He put his book away for later and left to go find Kryten to help him.

"Oh, I'd be happy to help you, sir," Kryten said eagerly. "Did you have a room in mind?"

"Not yet. Probably a single bunk. Nothing too extravagant. I was going to shop around a bit. For now, my old bunkmate's belongings are just sitting around. Could you make a start on putting them away into vacuum storage while I do some sightseeing?"

"Right away, sir."

"Thank you. Be sure to tell Kochanski where I am, if she asks, which she probably won't, but whatever."

Kryten looked concerned. "If you don't mind a mere mechanoid making an observation, sir, it seems you and Miss Kochanski are drifting apart lately since we reactivated Mr. Duncan."

Rimmer shrugged. "Yes, well, they're in a relationship now, Kryten. You know about relationships, right?"

"Oh, yes, sir. A relationship is the way in which two or more concepts, objects or people are connected, or the state of being connected."

"… Right, well… Kochanski and Tim have entered a sort of… interconnecting… They're having sex, is what I'm trying to say. It's a sort of private thing – unless you're from Mimas. They have a religion based on public bonking."

Kryten nodded in understanding. "Do you wish to pursue an interconnecting relationship with Miss Kochanski, sir?"

Rimmer's disgust was demonstrated by his scrunched up lips and his flared nostrils. "No, god no. She's a superior officer and a pain in the arse."

"Then what is the problem?"

"The problem is that damn Tim. I remember him from before the accident."

"Oh? What was he like?"

"He used hang out in the Officer's Club, smoking those black cigarettes. Such a phony! And what the hell is a 'Catering Officer'?! He's a chef! A white-hatted ponce! That's not a real officer!"

"It outranks you, sir," Kryten pointed out.

Rimmer glared at him. "I just don't like him. Just one of the many people who used to look down on me, brought back from the dead to haunt me."

"But he hardly ever bothers you, sir. He and Miss Kochanski are constantly indulging in their interconnecting relationship."

Rimmer squirmed. "Don't remind me. I don't know what she sees in him. Come on. Let's get started on getting me to my new quarters."

While this was going on, they didn't know that Kochanski and Tim were having some trouble of their own.

Kochanski was in heaven. This was the happiest she'd been in years. She was finally in the arms of the man of her dreams, snuggling up alongside of him, breathing in his simulated scent. It had been a wonderful two weeks of dancing, sex, eating hologrammatic meals, sex, laughing, sex, watching films, sex, listening to classical music, sex and, of course, sex. She was happier than ever. She looked over at her lover and saw him staring up at the ceiling, evidently lost in thought, sweat on his forehead. She smiled and laid her head down on his bare chest, ready to give anything to know what he was thinking.

She didn't realize the beads of sweat weren't from their latest round. They were from anxiety and claustrophobia. The reality of the situation was beginning to weigh in on him. The only things he could touch were other holograms. Kochanski was the only woman he would ever be able to be with. Something about that just terrified him. He was trapped with only one woman. This was it. This was all he would ever have now. They were pretty much frozen in a single moment with the same woman over and over again – never getting older because they were dead.

It was preying at his mind. He couldn't make it stop. He knew this was sick and wrong, but then again, wasn't the whole situation? How was she not going mad from this? How was he falling apart while she took the whole thing in stride?

He was weak. That's all there was to it. She was stronger than he was. She was a no-nonsense stand-up-for-herself woman who could pull her own chair out, open her door and pay for the entire meal herself. Perhaps that was what had driven him away from her initially when they were still alive. He had been attracted to a woman who acted like what he thought a woman should act like. In his warped sense of reasoning, he felt the way for a woman to act like a woman was to make him feel like a man.

He glanced at her again. She was asleep, snuggled up to him with a big smile on her face. It should've made him feel wonderful. He wanted to throw up. He was stuck with her.

There was only one way out.