Chapter Text
Lister decided not to push the matter further. He had a feeling too much pressure would send Rimmer into panicky denial.
So they came to an agreement not to mention their epiphany to Cat or Kryten. Lister assured the concerned mechanoid that he and Rimmer had found the root of his bad dreams and all was now well.
He pleaded with Holly to keep her knowledge to herself. The computer agreed, although he wasn't entirely reassured by her promises.
Things settled almost back to normal, although a keen observer might have noticed the lack of real bite in the insults they still exchanged when anyone else was around.
Truth to tell, they both felt more comfortable in the company of the others.
At night there was no escaping their physical proximity.
There was nothing keeping them in the same bunkroom. All they needed to do was fake a worse argument than usual and one could move out. And yet...
"Rimmer?"
The hologram paused in his meticulous preparations for bed. "Yes?"
"Can I ... touch you?"
At the look that flashed across the other man's features, he quickly added: "I mean...yer hand?".
The hesitation that followed didn't last as long as he'd anticipated. With a faltering half-attempt at a smile, Rimmer held out his right hand to Lister's awkwardly extended fingers.
Lister let out a sharp breath as he once again felt a phantom handshake.
He cautiously reached out towards Rimmer's face with his other hand, stopping a few inches away to gauge the other man's reaction.
The expression on the hologram's flushed face was hard to read. Deciding to risk it, he traced the outline of Rimmer's jaw with his fingertips.
Pinpricks of sensation made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Rimmer blinked at him and sighed softly.
"Sirs, I - oh!" Kryten stood in the doorway, confusion etched on his rubber features.
The two men jumped guiltily away from each other. Lister searched his brain for something to say, but came up empty.
Nostrils twitching like a petrified rabbit, Rimmer bolted through the doorway, passing straight through Kryten in his haste.
"What was all that about, sir?"
"Dunno. Guess he decided to go for a run before bed." Yeah, that's convincing, you goit.
"But he's in his pyjamas, sir."
"Yeah well, you know Rimmer."
"What was happening when I came in? It ... almost looked like a scene from one of those films you like so much, sir."
Lister forced a laugh which sounded completely false to his ears. "What, you didn't think?! Nah, I was just curious. Asked if I could touch his projection, see if I could feel anything."
Kryten nodded uncertainly. "And can you, sir?"
"Just a bit. Like a ... breeze or somethin'."
It wasn't that he was ashamed, he told his nagging conscience. He was doing it for Rimmer's sake. The hologram was clearly anything but ready to go public.
Go public with what? We're in love but we can't really touch each other?
He decided not to chase Rimmer, much though he wanted to. Better to let him calm down. Why the smeg didn't we lock the door? 'Cos I was too busy watching him to think.
Rimmer ran until his lungs - or the simulation of them - felt ready to burst. Corridor after corridor whizzed past until he finally collapsed, hyperventilating from fear and exhaustion. He couldn't have explained precisely what he was so scared of; he only felt the primitive fight-or-flight impulse screaming in his brain.
"Rimmer?"
The voice sounded impatient, as though it had already spoken his name several times. Through his breathless daze he vaguely recognised it as one he was used to paying attention to. Accustomed to obeying.
"Rimmer!" The tone shifted to annoyed. Rimmer felt himself responding automatically.
Still unable to pinpoint the voice's owner, he staggered to his feet and turned to face them.
He turned a sickly shade of green, let out a tiny "Eep!" sound and fainted.