FicWad

Rimmer tipped the alternate version of himself - much as he quailed at the thought that any version of himself would prance around looking like that - on his bunk. The man fell heavily onto his back, groaning. "Not so bad!" Rimmer said, rubbing his hands together. "Room for improvement, I realize, but this was my first go, after all..."

"Not so bad?" Ace squeaked from his bunk, then cleared his throat, dropping his voice back into the pretentious, pompous tones he had used when he first landed. "Arn, that was pathetic. You ran away from every simulated enemy."

"Well, yes. How else am I supposed to stay alive?"

"Look." Ace pushed himself to a sitting position with a groan. Nancy/, Rimmer thought. "The goal isn't to stay alive. You're not alive now! You got a second chance, like I did, to make up in death for what a cowardly self-serving pile of smeg you were in life." Rimmer opened his mouth to angrily disagree, but Ace plowed right over the top of him, pulling off his hair - which was, as Rimmer had suspected, merely a wig, and tossing it on the floor, where it lay like a dead rodent. "Don't try to argue and dicker. I'm smegging /you/." And yes, with the wig gone, Rimmer had to admit that the git did look rather like him. "These johnnies, Rimmer - they don't even smegging /like you. Why stay here? Go out, do some heroics, shag some women. Yes, you'll die, and pretty smegging soon at that, but is it really worse than creeping through your afterlife on a grotty lander with people - and I use that term very loosely - who don't even smegging want you around?" This long speech took something out of Ace, and he flopped back on the bunk with a moan.

Rimmer had been opening and closing his mouth throughout this speech. He finally sensed an opportunity, and took it. "Now, look here, miladdio - maybe you weren't Captain Charisma in your dimension, but I am rather well-liked here! I am a valuable asset to the crew..."

"A valuable hider-under-midsection-table? A valuable pantwetter?" Ace asked the roof of the bunk. He flopped his head on the side to look at Rimmer. His eyes were glassy, slightly feverish. "Not a single Lister out there can stand a single Rimmer that he's been stuck with. Bet he's trying to get you to leave, isn't he? Trust me, he wants to drop-kick you out of the hatch, /miladdio/."

Rimmer felt his lip twist. Damn it, the man was right. But why? He had always tried so hard to be a goodie/! He had always done what he thought was right - well, when he thought it would not harm him, which was quite rare. But still, he tried! And yes, now that he thought back on it, maybe Lister /had meant what he said whenever he insulted Rimmer. After all, he never asked why Lister had been so oddly tender, back on the psi-moon, and the closeness he displayed had never been repeated, not even after Horde had given Rimmer the hard-light drive. Yes, Lister was rather eager for him to strap on the gold flightsuit this ponce was wearing, wasn't he? Rimmer sighed. "None of us?"

Ace shook his head. "None of us."

Rimmer straightened his uniform. "Well, if it's how we all are, it's how we all are." He felt oddly... disappointed, however. Yet another thing for Arnold Schmucko Rimmer to fail at. Still - "And - you say shagging women?"

"Get the heroics down," Ace said, his voice becoming noticeably weaker, "and they'll be all over you, Iron Balls."

Rimmer smiled. He could deal with that. "Fine. So what are the heroics?"

"Try the simulations again. Only - shoot at the bad guys, instead of showing them your tail. I know, it took me a while to get down, too." Ace reached into his pocket and pulled out a small widget. "Here. It'll take my light bee to its final resting place. Take the suit and the wig. The Computer knows some cut-rate dry-cleaners."

Rimmer took the widget that Ace handed to him. He fiddled with it, feeling abruptly self-conscious. "Do I have to talk like that, too?"

"Yes," Ace gasped, "it inspires confidence, for no reason I can figure. And whenever possible, say 'Smoke me a kipper, I'll be...'" Ace's face twisted, and it was as if his features turned to burning paper, peeling away from a sparking blue form underneath - one that quickly disappeared, leaving only the empty suit lying on the bunk.

Rimmer looked at the empty suit, and at the wig on the floor. He tapped his lip with his forefinger. Shagging women, eh?