*throws off cloak*
Hello! So pleased to have been accepted to this community, been a bit of a watcher from afar (in a non creepy way, promise!) and been so inspired by the fanworks I've seen here I've decided to dust off my old writing fanfiction boots. And they were very dusty indeed. But I felt I had the voices, as I recently went on a binge...we basically, I was introduced to Red Dwarf backwards: I saw Trojan, fell in love and made a dent in my bank account investing in all the series DVDs the next day. It quite possibly is now my most favourite thing ever. I must explain the reasoning: I was still a wee nipper when V, VI etc was going out, so I was already against the tide. Anyway, on with the show: the first chapter in my 'Dream' Series. Unfortunately, I've gone for a bit of a Lister/Kochanski theme in this first ep, but that's sure to change.... *winks awkwardly*
Title: (Dreams are) Better Than Sleep: Chapter One
Genre: Romance, Hurt, Comfort
Summary: Dreams are just the echoes of a dormant subconscious mind. As are desires. Right?
Rating: R in some places (ooh-er) especially in this chapter, so read with caution, folks, its there from the off.
Pairing: Set during and post Season 7, Lister/Kochanski implied Rimmer/Lister, er...others.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, esp. Red Dwarf Related. If only I had a TARDIS...
Hands. Roaming in places that it really is decent to roam. In the back of her addled mind she notices their texture is different: coarser, firmer and is that....studs? She looks down then and sees what she intellectually knew was there just in time to see him hurriedly pull off his leather fingerless gloves with his teeth. The movement is far from elegant and yet somehow still sensual, and very much him. Well, this him. What she intellectually knew was there then shines a feral grin at her, a cheeky promise inherent within them and then continues to roam with his fingers and his mouth, kissing down her torso and lightly running his hands down her sides. Her head rolls back again, even as she tries to make sense of her thoughts. Intellectually. She was intellectual, this was a fact. A more than capable navigation officer, cyber-school, the works. Intellectual. This much had been established and yet she had no answer, no algorithm or formula to describe the rhyme or reason for what was happening now. Lister, this stupid universe's Lister holding himself above her making little sounds (or was that her?) as he slowly, teasingly made his merry way down her body.
"Didn't know what you were missin', Kris?"
Shut up, shut up, I'm having a moment. Even with her eyes closed she can see his self satisfied smirk, but what is more pressing at this moment (or not pressing at all, depending on your view) is the lack of contact from those warm course hands on her, a world away from her Dave's smooth, delicate touch and yet all too familiar. She sighs. He's waiting for her to open her eyes. To look at him. Acknowledge it. Well. Give me a minute. She takes a breath and wonders whether to continue, trying not to take into account the throbbing growing in intensity between her legs. She could run. Run to the other side of the ship, even. It could take months just to even get there, she could escape-
"What, are we needin' some motivation?" The voice is closer than she expected, the breath tickling her ear, his earlier words beginning to haunt her now, did she know what she was missing? the answer was unequivocally a resounding 'no'. The mouth that had just been by her ear then got to work on her neck, letting her not think for a moment, almost unintentionally arching against him. When the voice spoke again it was laced with less control and more desire. I know the feeling, mate.
"I've waited so long, Kris. You don't know..."
The mouth moved again, as she heard a new sound, a sort of stuttering coming from somewhere close by. With growing horror,she realised it was her.
"M-m...mmm." Whatever the word had meant to be, it got lost in the moan as Lister's hand traced the line of her underwear. Ahh. That was unfair. She felt him pounce on her then, a delighted chuckle eminating from his throat. Ah, yes. Here's me wittering on in my head and he had no idea if I...well now he does as she shifted impatiently against his hand. Another low chuckle.
"In due time, Kris. Gonna need you to open your eyes though."
Ah. Easier said than done. The feel? excellent. The sight? not yet tested. And there was something, some niggling feeling that she shouldn't, that she could anchor it here, eyes closed, half dressed and tousled...
"Kris? You keep this up, I might just think you've gone to sleep." Lips,a little persistent now were kissing up her jaw, hovering over her mouth. "No? Well then, allow me to play a little dirtier..." The sudden touch of his hand just where she'd wanted it for so long sent a zolt of electricity through her causing her to arch and open her eyes....
To a dark room. She fell on the bed, sweating, disorientated, sighing. A dream, then. An intense one. More to the point, a dream about Lister. This Lister. She frowned, wiped her brow, annoyed at her body's treacherous reaction to a simple, if realistic dream. Because that's all it was. A dream. Yes. She lay there as still as she could, regulating her breathing to the hums and rhythm of the room and listened for any noise on the ship. Nothing.She sighed again and ran her hand through her hair, glancing down and then doing a double take. Her pyjamas, rumpled and the evidence, there under her shirt of just how real that dream had been. And, oh. Excellent. The tell-tale throb of arousal between her legs. Silently cursing to herself, she turned to the wall with a groan, quelling the thoughts and images still fresh in her mind and squeezed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth and chasing sleep. She didn't know how, or for that matter, why, but Lister was going to pay for this.
----
She'd slept badly. Or really well. Either way, she was up with the larks, preoccupied with only one thing. She took a shower and then crept down to the kitchen in search of breakfast on a bloke's ship, sifting through cooled trainers and salad cream for something, anything to eat. Kristine Kochanski had been on this ship now for coming up to a year and having got over the initial shock, was now immune to the things that really should bother her: Cat's innocuous comments about both his outfit and hers as she left a room, Kryten's blithering at her about laundry and sinks and something or other and Lister's dopey yet earnest smile that lit up his entire face when she entered a room. A mental slap. Stop that this instant Kristine, and drink some coffee or something.
"Ah, Miss Kochanski, Ma'aam - I hope you slept well."
Just how did old Metalhead inject his voice with that note of knowing in it? Meddling mechanoid, kindly piss off.
"As well as can be expected, Kryten, thanks."
Better than nothing.
"I was just going to get a start on Mister Lister's breakfast,ma'am. Is there anything I can get you?"
The coffee went down the wrong windpipe, and coughing whilst fending off Kryten's offer of another heimlich manoeuvre Kristine finally managed, a strained "He's up?" Damn. Her plan to take all she might need for sustenance, or all that could fit in her arms, and go and hide in the Botanical Gardens had been well and truly hampered. She just couldn't see him. Not now. Not yet. Her thoughts overtook each other in panic, cruelly bringing up scenarios of accidental blurting- of him knowing full stop that made her piping coffee suddenly feel very cold.
"Oh yes, Ma'am. If you don't mind me saying Mister Lister seemed quite preoccupied this morning."
I don't mind you saying it at all, Kryten, but all of this waffling may eventually mean...
"Mornin' all. Mornin' Kris, sleep any better?"
A sharp look at the word, 'sleep' and narrowed eyes trained on his face looking for evidence. Maybe she hadn't been as quiet as she thought, and after all she was in a deep sleep...but no, only a quizzical look in his warm brown eyes as he quite rightly took in what was probably a wide eyed and crazed look from his fellow shipmate. She watched him throw a bemused look at Kryten before trusting herself finally, to speak.
"Fine, thank you Dave. I trust you slept well also?"
Why are you talking like you're from the 18th century all of a sudden, her addled, blushing (if there was such a thing) brain yelled desperately at her. Sleep. Why did he have to say it? Bloody hell.
"Like the proverbial log, Miss Kochanski, thanks." Laughing as he sat down next to her (great, there's only a full table over there...!) and not noticing Kryten's impeccably timed arm coming into focus briefly planting a bowl and a glass in front of him just at the exact same time as he sat.
"Been at the AR machine again, Kris? Pride and Prejudice world, was it?"
Smug git. If he could just move away, just a little bit. His leg brushed hers, simultaneously brushing loose a memory of the dream from last night. Yelping and moving away, Lister looked up from his breakfast to look at her quizzically.
"You alright, Kris? Your, erm, eyes are really wide."
What was she, a teenager? What is Donny Osmond's Puppy Love going to suddenly blast out over the intercoms all over the ship? No, no. Not infatuation: embarrassment. Simple, easy and uncomplicated embarrassment, that was all. Not infatuation here, no sir.
"Kris?" A hand, just as it had felt last night, touching her bare shoulder now. A pair of confused and concerned eyes...oh bloody hell, couldn't he leave it alone?
"I've got to go. I'll see you in a bit."
Almost falling over herself she stood from the table and took a hurried exit, taking the stairs three at a time. Once at the top, she gave herself a pinch for good measure. Honestly. He had no right. Stupid brown eyes. Stupid warm hands. Stupid brain, shut stupid up. She needed to get away, to stop thinking if she could, and marched off to the only place on Red Dwarf she could be sure to get some peace, a determined look on her face.
-------
So, chpt 1 done! What do you think? much more to come obviously but as I'm liking this right now, probs quite soon.
Thanks, Bye!
oddly formal, wasn't it? sorry.
Title: (Dreams are) Better Than Sleep: Chapter One
Genre: Romance, Hurt, Comfort
Summary: Dreams are just the echoes of a dormant subconscious mind. As are desires. Right?
Rating: R in some places (ooh-er) especially in this chapter, so read with caution, folks, its there from the off.
Pairing: Set during and post Season 7, Lister/Kochanski implied Rimmer/Lister, er...others.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, esp. Red Dwarf Related. If only I had a TARDIS...
Hands. Roaming in places that it really is decent to roam. In the back of her addled mind she notices their texture is different: coarser, firmer and is that....studs? She looks down then and sees what she intellectually knew was there just in time to see him hurriedly pull off his leather fingerless gloves with his teeth. The movement is far from elegant and yet somehow still sensual, and very much him. Well, this him. What she intellectually knew was there then shines a feral grin at her, a cheeky promise inherent within them and then continues to roam with his fingers and his mouth, kissing down her torso and lightly running his hands down her sides. Her head rolls back again, even as she tries to make sense of her thoughts. Intellectually. She was intellectual, this was a fact. A more than capable navigation officer, cyber-school, the works. Intellectual. This much had been established and yet she had no answer, no algorithm or formula to describe the rhyme or reason for what was happening now. Lister, this stupid universe's Lister holding himself above her making little sounds (or was that her?) as he slowly, teasingly made his merry way down her body.
"Didn't know what you were missin', Kris?"
Shut up, shut up, I'm having a moment. Even with her eyes closed she can see his self satisfied smirk, but what is more pressing at this moment (or not pressing at all, depending on your view) is the lack of contact from those warm course hands on her, a world away from her Dave's smooth, delicate touch and yet all too familiar. She sighs. He's waiting for her to open her eyes. To look at him. Acknowledge it. Well. Give me a minute. She takes a breath and wonders whether to continue, trying not to take into account the throbbing growing in intensity between her legs. She could run. Run to the other side of the ship, even. It could take months just to even get there, she could escape-
"What, are we needin' some motivation?" The voice is closer than she expected, the breath tickling her ear, his earlier words beginning to haunt her now, did she know what she was missing? the answer was unequivocally a resounding 'no'. The mouth that had just been by her ear then got to work on her neck, letting her not think for a moment, almost unintentionally arching against him. When the voice spoke again it was laced with less control and more desire. I know the feeling, mate.
"I've waited so long, Kris. You don't know..."
The mouth moved again, as she heard a new sound, a sort of stuttering coming from somewhere close by. With growing horror,she realised it was her.
"M-m...mmm." Whatever the word had meant to be, it got lost in the moan as Lister's hand traced the line of her underwear. Ahh. That was unfair. She felt him pounce on her then, a delighted chuckle eminating from his throat. Ah, yes. Here's me wittering on in my head and he had no idea if I...well now he does as she shifted impatiently against his hand. Another low chuckle.
"In due time, Kris. Gonna need you to open your eyes though."
Ah. Easier said than done. The feel? excellent. The sight? not yet tested. And there was something, some niggling feeling that she shouldn't, that she could anchor it here, eyes closed, half dressed and tousled...
"Kris? You keep this up, I might just think you've gone to sleep." Lips,a little persistent now were kissing up her jaw, hovering over her mouth. "No? Well then, allow me to play a little dirtier..." The sudden touch of his hand just where she'd wanted it for so long sent a zolt of electricity through her causing her to arch and open her eyes....
To a dark room. She fell on the bed, sweating, disorientated, sighing. A dream, then. An intense one. More to the point, a dream about Lister. This Lister. She frowned, wiped her brow, annoyed at her body's treacherous reaction to a simple, if realistic dream. Because that's all it was. A dream. Yes. She lay there as still as she could, regulating her breathing to the hums and rhythm of the room and listened for any noise on the ship. Nothing.She sighed again and ran her hand through her hair, glancing down and then doing a double take. Her pyjamas, rumpled and the evidence, there under her shirt of just how real that dream had been. And, oh. Excellent. The tell-tale throb of arousal between her legs. Silently cursing to herself, she turned to the wall with a groan, quelling the thoughts and images still fresh in her mind and squeezed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth and chasing sleep. She didn't know how, or for that matter, why, but Lister was going to pay for this.
----
She'd slept badly. Or really well. Either way, she was up with the larks, preoccupied with only one thing. She took a shower and then crept down to the kitchen in search of breakfast on a bloke's ship, sifting through cooled trainers and salad cream for something, anything to eat. Kristine Kochanski had been on this ship now for coming up to a year and having got over the initial shock, was now immune to the things that really should bother her: Cat's innocuous comments about both his outfit and hers as she left a room, Kryten's blithering at her about laundry and sinks and something or other and Lister's dopey yet earnest smile that lit up his entire face when she entered a room. A mental slap. Stop that this instant Kristine, and drink some coffee or something.
"Ah, Miss Kochanski, Ma'aam - I hope you slept well."
Just how did old Metalhead inject his voice with that note of knowing in it? Meddling mechanoid, kindly piss off.
"As well as can be expected, Kryten, thanks."
Better than nothing.
"I was just going to get a start on Mister Lister's breakfast,ma'am. Is there anything I can get you?"
The coffee went down the wrong windpipe, and coughing whilst fending off Kryten's offer of another heimlich manoeuvre Kristine finally managed, a strained "He's up?" Damn. Her plan to take all she might need for sustenance, or all that could fit in her arms, and go and hide in the Botanical Gardens had been well and truly hampered. She just couldn't see him. Not now. Not yet. Her thoughts overtook each other in panic, cruelly bringing up scenarios of accidental blurting- of him knowing full stop that made her piping coffee suddenly feel very cold.
"Oh yes, Ma'am. If you don't mind me saying Mister Lister seemed quite preoccupied this morning."
I don't mind you saying it at all, Kryten, but all of this waffling may eventually mean...
"Mornin' all. Mornin' Kris, sleep any better?"
A sharp look at the word, 'sleep' and narrowed eyes trained on his face looking for evidence. Maybe she hadn't been as quiet as she thought, and after all she was in a deep sleep...but no, only a quizzical look in his warm brown eyes as he quite rightly took in what was probably a wide eyed and crazed look from his fellow shipmate. She watched him throw a bemused look at Kryten before trusting herself finally, to speak.
"Fine, thank you Dave. I trust you slept well also?"
Why are you talking like you're from the 18th century all of a sudden, her addled, blushing (if there was such a thing) brain yelled desperately at her. Sleep. Why did he have to say it? Bloody hell.
"Like the proverbial log, Miss Kochanski, thanks." Laughing as he sat down next to her (great, there's only a full table over there...!) and not noticing Kryten's impeccably timed arm coming into focus briefly planting a bowl and a glass in front of him just at the exact same time as he sat.
"Been at the AR machine again, Kris? Pride and Prejudice world, was it?"
Smug git. If he could just move away, just a little bit. His leg brushed hers, simultaneously brushing loose a memory of the dream from last night. Yelping and moving away, Lister looked up from his breakfast to look at her quizzically.
"You alright, Kris? Your, erm, eyes are really wide."
What was she, a teenager? What is Donny Osmond's Puppy Love going to suddenly blast out over the intercoms all over the ship? No, no. Not infatuation: embarrassment. Simple, easy and uncomplicated embarrassment, that was all. Not infatuation here, no sir.
"Kris?" A hand, just as it had felt last night, touching her bare shoulder now. A pair of confused and concerned eyes...oh bloody hell, couldn't he leave it alone?
"I've got to go. I'll see you in a bit."
Almost falling over herself she stood from the table and took a hurried exit, taking the stairs three at a time. Once at the top, she gave herself a pinch for good measure. Honestly. He had no right. Stupid brown eyes. Stupid warm hands. Stupid brain, shut stupid up. She needed to get away, to stop thinking if she could, and marched off to the only place on Red Dwarf she could be sure to get some peace, a determined look on her face.
-------
So, chpt 1 done! What do you think? much more to come obviously but as I'm liking this right now, probs quite soon.
Thanks, Bye!
oddly formal, wasn't it? sorry.