The Uniform Makes the Man - G
Title: The Uniform Makes the Man
Author: Claire
Fandom: Red Dwarf
Summary: Sometime around series 5-ish. Lister comments on Rimmer's shiny new uniform.
Rating: G
Warnings: Rimmer/Lister so vague it could be one of Tony Blair's answers to a question about the state of the NHS.
"I see you've upgraded." Lister observed, as Rimmer practised his salutes in front of the mirror.
“What do you mean?” Rimmer asked, performing a particularly splendid Double-salute with synchronised wrist-flicks.
“From Captain Emerald.” Lister waved a hand vaguely at Rimmer’s new uniform from where he was lounging on his bunk, which crunched slightly as he moved. (This was due to the packet of Worcestershire Sauce and Onion Baji flavoured crisps he’d spilt a couple of days ago.) “Going for the full-on Captain Scarlet now, are you?”
“I felt that it was appropriate for the senior officer on board to don an attire suited to the ship.” The hologram sniffed haughtily, and leaned forward to smooth one of his eyebrows down before inspecting himself with a satisfied ‘hm’. “Besides, I was once told that red suited me. They said it brought out my eyes.”
“Did you have conjunctivitis at the time?” Lister asked with a lop-sided grin.
“So you don’t like it then?” Rimmer puffed up his chest and admired the effect from various angles, ignoring Lister’s question.
“No.” Lister said. “Can’t stand red.”
“Why not?” Rimmer asked, mildly interested, mainly at the possibility that he would hear something he could exploit later.
“In regular football, ‘s the colour of the Liverpool home strip.”
Rimmer frowned and turned to look at Lister for the first time during this conversation.
“Aren’t you from Liverpool?” He’d naturally assumed so - he couldn’t see why anyone would adopt that accent through choice.
“Yeah, but I was brought up in Bootle.” Lister said, swinging his legs over the edge of the bunk and sitting up. “They all support Everton there.”
“What colour’s the Everton strip?” Rimmer watched as Lister hopped out of his bunk, trailing crisp crumbs behind him like stale pixie dust, and headed for the door.
“Blue.” Lister said with a grin. “What better colour is there?”
He disappeared out the room and Rimmer turned to inspect himself critically in the mirror again.
He had to admit, while red suited him, he’d always looked pretty good in blue...
Author: Claire
Fandom: Red Dwarf
Summary: Sometime around series 5-ish. Lister comments on Rimmer's shiny new uniform.
Rating: G
Warnings: Rimmer/Lister so vague it could be one of Tony Blair's answers to a question about the state of the NHS.
"I see you've upgraded." Lister observed, as Rimmer practised his salutes in front of the mirror.
“What do you mean?” Rimmer asked, performing a particularly splendid Double-salute with synchronised wrist-flicks.
“From Captain Emerald.” Lister waved a hand vaguely at Rimmer’s new uniform from where he was lounging on his bunk, which crunched slightly as he moved. (This was due to the packet of Worcestershire Sauce and Onion Baji flavoured crisps he’d spilt a couple of days ago.) “Going for the full-on Captain Scarlet now, are you?”
“I felt that it was appropriate for the senior officer on board to don an attire suited to the ship.” The hologram sniffed haughtily, and leaned forward to smooth one of his eyebrows down before inspecting himself with a satisfied ‘hm’. “Besides, I was once told that red suited me. They said it brought out my eyes.”
“Did you have conjunctivitis at the time?” Lister asked with a lop-sided grin.
“So you don’t like it then?” Rimmer puffed up his chest and admired the effect from various angles, ignoring Lister’s question.
“No.” Lister said. “Can’t stand red.”
“Why not?” Rimmer asked, mildly interested, mainly at the possibility that he would hear something he could exploit later.
“In regular football, ‘s the colour of the Liverpool home strip.”
Rimmer frowned and turned to look at Lister for the first time during this conversation.
“Aren’t you from Liverpool?” He’d naturally assumed so - he couldn’t see why anyone would adopt that accent through choice.
“Yeah, but I was brought up in Bootle.” Lister said, swinging his legs over the edge of the bunk and sitting up. “They all support Everton there.”
“What colour’s the Everton strip?” Rimmer watched as Lister hopped out of his bunk, trailing crisp crumbs behind him like stale pixie dust, and headed for the door.
“Blue.” Lister said with a grin. “What better colour is there?”
He disappeared out the room and Rimmer turned to inspect himself critically in the mirror again.
He had to admit, while red suited him, he’d always looked pretty good in blue...