The weeks that followed were tense to say the least.

Kochanski was noticeably grumpier, bossier and decidedly less easy to put up with. The others were still uncertain as to just what had been said between her and Tim to put her in such a mood, but they were certain that it had been very much not pretty.

Rimmer was certain that if he just left her alone that she would eventually get over it and equilibrium would be restored, but so far, it was clear that it wasn't. One night, he decided to get away from it all and went up to the Observation Dome for some stargazing. He found he actually enjoyed it quite a bit.

He caught the lift and traveled up to the top floor. He pulled open the hatchway and made his way up the curved stairs to the circular room.

Imagine his surprise when he found Kochanski already there, glaring at him from the bench.

"Ah…," he stammered. "Miss Kochanski, ma'am… How are you?"

"Rimmer, what do you want?" she demanded.

"Er… I was just going to… enjoy some peace… and quiet…"

"… Fine. Don't let me stop you. Have a seat."

Rimmer swallowed, briefly weighing his options. "Er… no, that's all right. I'll just clear off and leave you to it," he said awkwardly, reversing his way back down the stairs.

"Sit, Rimmer. That's an order."

Rimmer gritted his teeth, trying to fight his inbuilt need to follow every single order given to him. He lost miserably and sat down pathetically on the bench opposite her, trying to not look at her by looking straight up at the stars.

They sat in a very tense silence for about four minutes before someone said something.

At last, Rimmer stretched and got up to leave. "Well, that was fun! Think I'll come back next year…," he said quickly, making for the exit.

"Rimmer, sit. That's an order."

He froze where he stood. "Why?" he found himself asking.

"Because… I don't know. I guess I just liking you squirm."

"Well thank you very much," Rimmer grumbled, sitting down again, crossing his arms like a petulant child. "So if you want me to stay, what do you propose we do?"

"… What is it about love that makes it so god damn important?"

Rimmer was thrown by the question, but he had an answer. "Well, I'm not the one who was stupid enough to fall in love with someone in the first place," he snapped irritably. "Love is just a device invented by bank managers so we'll always be overdrawn, and I'm happy to say I've never let myself fall for it."

Kochanski looked at him incredulously. "What the hell happened to you that made you think like that?"

"Simply common sense. It's your own fault. Tim was a smeghead from beginning to end. Anyone could've seen it. Hell, even Lister could probably tell what a phony that guy was."

Kochanski sighed. "Oh, for a simpler life… I actually envy you right now, Rimmer. No emotions, no feelings, no one ever gets to you…"

Rimmer blinked. He didn't say it out loud, but that got to him. He sat in silence for a moment. "Well…," he said at last. "I… Yeah, I guess…"

Kochanski could tell from his downcast expression that she'd struck a nerve, and now she felt guilty. She'd said what she'd said out of spite. She could tell that Rimmer's cynicism was a front. Anyone could. He was just a sad and pathetic and lonely man who had never known the love of a woman and now probably never would. She couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him.

"I'm sorry, Rimmer," she sighed, rubbing her eyes. "It's just that… I was ready to give him everything. I thought that he would change for me…"

Rimmer snorted at that. "Well, that didn't work out," he sneered. "Look, ma'am, if you don't mind me saying it, you really need to wake up. Tim was a complete twit. He abandoned you when you were alive for another woman, and then, as soon as she dumped him, you went crawling back to him! What in the world were you thinking?"

"I just thought that…," she started automatically before remembering that she outranked him and clamped her mouth shut. "It doesn't matter. I guess I was just hoping that with everyone else dead, he'd just…"

"Feel forced to stay with you? Oh, that's healthy."

She had nothing to say to that.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes. Rimmer couldn't help but feel smug about the whole affair. He'd known from the start that Tim was trouble, and he'd been proven right. Still, there was a small part of him that couldn't help but feel sorry for Kochanski. She'd put everything on the line for this guy, and he'd let her down. He knew how that felt. His family had put him through enough of that…

But he wasn't up for sharing that right now.

"Well…," he managed at last. "People suck, don't they?"

This got a brief laugh out of her. "I suppose… Most of them, anyway."

"We still have the second hologram unit," he continued. "If you wanted to upload someone else – maybe a friend you had – I guess it would be okay."

She thought for a brief moment before crinkling her nose and shaking her head. "Rimmer, if I can be totally honest with you – being a hologram is hell. You can't touch, can't eat, can't smell… You have to rely on the skutters for everything… I just couldn't put someone else through this. It wouldn't be right."

Rimmer looked at her for a long moment. "So… why are you putting yourself through this?"

She shrugged. "I guess I just… feel compelled to stick around. I'd like to see where we're going, and if we're ever going to get there." Then a playful smirk traipsed across her lips. "Besides, if I did switch myself off, you'd have to put up with the Cat, Kryten and Holly all on your own, and then where would you be?"

"In an airlock without a spacesuit," he replied readily.

She laughed again. "We're a pair, aren't we…?" she sighed.

"The Unlikeliest Pair…," he agreed.

"I still feel so stupid… How can anyone be that stupid?"

Rimmer looked at her for a long moment. "If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell the others?" he asked.

She saw the earnest in his eyes, and she nodded silently.

Leaning forwards, he spoke as gently as he could lest someone was eavesdropping. "There was a time I did something so stupid that it killed my entire career."

"What, you mean your salute?" she asked without thinking.

He closed his eyes in quiet exasperation. "No…," he said slowly, trying to summon his courage. "When I first joined up, I was invited to join the officers for dinner… and they served Gazpacho Soup…"

Kochanski listened as he recounted the tale of his ill-fated dinner with the officers. He talked of the 'date' he'd hired, only for it to turn out she was a con-artist who stole his money, so he had to pretend she'd died in an accident when he turned up alone. He told her about the joke he'd tried to tell, but he'd forgotten the punchline. He told her about how the cold soup was brought before him, and he had it sent away to be heated.

"No one told you?" she asked incredulously. "They just sat there and laughed at you?"

Rimmer nodded mutely.

"My god, that's terrible…"

"And that was the end of my career."

"… I wouldn't say that was the reason you never…"

"If only just once they'd said Gazpacho Soup is served cold, I could've been an admiral by now! I really could've!"

"Rimmer, stop talking and listen, okay?" she said in firm but sad voice. "It wasn't that stupid. It's a mistake anyone could've made. Yes, it was humiliating, but the odds of any of them remembering years later are unlikely. I'm certain the only person who remembers the incident with any clarity is you."

Rimmer looked at her for a long moment. She was the one who had gotten her heart ripped out of her chest and stomped on, and now she was comforting him. Something felt weird about that, but he didn't know why. "You really think?" he asked quietly.

She smiled reassuringly. "Yes, I do… And anyway, they're all dead now. What's the point in beating yourself up about it?"

Rimmer thought about that. She had a valid point. "So… you promise never to mention it again?"

"I swear on my death that I will never mention it again," she replied, putting a hand across her chest.

Rimmer nodded slowly. "Well… thank you."

"Thank you for telling me. It means a lot that you're willing to trust me with it."

They sat in silence a little longer, but to their surprise, it wasn't as tense as before. They felt comfortable and at ease, something they rarely felt with each other. They sat there, staring up at the stars in thought.

Kochanski thought about whether or not it would be in bad taste to say 'souper', but she decided against it.