Author's Notes:
Gonna be up front - I'm not writing this story in any particularly linear manner. Just kinda skipping around the canon, cherry picking whichever bits I feel like tackling first. Still, I'm going to post chapters in linear order, so that's why this took so long. "Thanks For the Memory" is kind of reliant on Lister being there, so I wasn't sure where to take it, but I decided this was good enough just to get it over with.

It was a planet with a breathable atmosphere – the first one they'd been able to find since they'd started the trek home. Naturally, everyone was eager to get off the ship and breathe the real air.

It had been a year since Rimmer had been let out of stasis and Kochanski had been activated, so it was decided that a celebration was in order. They went down in Blue Midget to the planet, with Holly participating in his traveling monitor. Kryten set up a campfire and proceeded to prepare dinner over it while the rest of them got drunk and danced to what started out as a simple evening of classical music turned into a rock opera.

Rimmer, Cat and Kochanski all danced to the music, although Cat was able to do a far better job than either of them. Rimmer had little experience in the ways of dancing, so he looked a little awkward while Kochanski staggered a bit, jamming away like an uncoordinated ballet dancer.

The night wore on, but once the moons came out, it was time to wrap things up and go home. They enjoyed Kryten's cake and made their way back in Blue Midget. Rimmer was an awkward enough pilot during the best of times, but here he was, drunk as a skunk, struggling to keep the ship from loop-de-looping all over the place lest they all be sick.

After a while, Holly got them home safely via the autopilot, and they disembarked and staggered through the cargo bay. They continued to party during the long lift ride, doing a conga-line out the door once they were on the habitation decks. It was really only Rimmer and Cat doing the conga. Kryten was only doing it because Rimmer ordered him to, but he didn't know how to conga effectively, so he was always kicking at the wrong time. Kochanski couldn't touch anyone's shoulders, so her hands just hovered around or through Kryten's.

Finally, they made it to the sleeping quarters. Cat split off to find one he could crash in for the night. Kryten went to take the dirty dishes and leftovers to the kitchen. Holly signed off for the night.

Rimmer and Kochanski were both too drunk for too much travel, so Rimmer was offered a place on her couch, which he amiably accepted. She had to say this much for him – he was a lot more reasonable when he was blitzed stupid.

She slumped into her hologrammatic bed, and he did a perfect face plant into her sofa, which was just barely long enough for him, but he didn't mind at the moment.

"You have a lovely cushion, Miss Kochanski…," he slurred.

Kochanski blushed. "Why thank you, Rimmer…," she replied, running her hands across her backside.

"So plump and cushiony…"

"Oh, well, I dunno what to say…"

"I love how it feels against my face…"

She frowned for a moment, then turned to see him face down in the cushions of the sofa. "Rimmer…! Get your cavernous nostrils out've my sofa, an' dat's an order…," she said semi-sternly.

Rimmer came up for air and turned himself over. "Yes'm."

"Good boy. Now then… what now?"

"Well… I was planning to sleep for a few thousand years…" Then he started giggling stupidly.

This encouraged her to giggle stupidly as well. "What's so funny…?"

"I just… I just realized… this is the first time I've ever spent the night with a woman."

"Is that so? Don't go any big ideas, sailor…"

"NO! No, no, no, nononono… No. I have no such intentions, madam. No… I just… I've never actually spent time in a woman's quarters… No! I tell a lie! There was once. But just once. Once."

Kochanski was just dimly coming out her haze, recognizing where this was going. "Rimmer… what are you telling me?"

He looked her right in the unfocused eye. "I am saying, Miss Kochanski Navigation Officer Lady person… that I have only had sexual intercourse once in my entire life."

Kochanski sat up on her bed, squinting disbelievingly. "Smeg!" she swore, taken aback.

Rimmer nodded clumsily. "Yvonne McGruder! A brief liaison with the ship's female boxing champion. Twelve minutes. And that includes the time it took to eat the pizza."

Kochanski blinked. His tone was changing. He sounded less cheerful-drunk and more bitter-drunk now. "Rimmer…?"

"In my entire life…," he continued, "I have spent more time being sick." He looked at her with pleading eyes. "That's not right, is it? I mean… in the grand scheme of things… that's not right. I've spent more time with my head down the loo, expelling noxious bodily fluids than I have spent with my head buried in the bosom of the woman I love. Where's the justice?"

Kochanski closed her eyes. This conversation was sobering her more efficiently than a slap in the face, cold water and whatever else Mythbusters had proven effective. "Rimmer… you never really… I mean… I don't think you… really made time for that sort of thing…"

"I did!"

"No, Rimmer, listen to me. You… never really made time for people. You were always sucking up to them, trying to impress them, make yourself look good… That's not having time for people. That's just using people. In fact, I'm not all that sure things with you and McGruder would've worked out. You were so dead set on your career, you probably would've neglected her."

Rimmer stared at her for a long moment, clearly trying to comprehend what she was saying. "I… I would've neglected her…?" he asked, sounding like a lost child.

"I think you probably would've, yes."

Rimmer's head slowly lowered onto the pillow. "… Maybe I would've," he said at last. "But I always thought… if I ever found the right girl, maybe… maybe it'd fix me."

"Fix you?"

"Make me a nice guy. Make me… make ne…" He trailed off, and for a moment, Kochanski thought he'd fallen asleep. Then she heard his tiny little voice. "I'm a little lamb… lost in the woods… Maybe I could… really be good… with someone to watch over me…"

She sat on her bed, completely silent.

"… That was gonna be our song," he explained. "But I never found anyone to share it with… so now it's just my song…"

Kochanski felt her eyes stinging and turned away. She climbed into her bed and laid down.

But he was still there, and she could hear him starting to cry. It was small and pathetic, but also heartrending.

When he woke up the next day, she knew he'd deny the whole thing. He'd pretend it was just a joke; that he was sober the whole time and he was just kidding, and then he'd hurry away and never mention it again. Especially the part about only having sex once in his entire life.

But this had shown her what she'd always suspected and probably very few people had ever known.

Arnold Judas Rimmer had a heart after all.