I have a rather muddy idea for a fic if anyone wants it.

[musicisavictim]

I have the greatest idea for a Rimmer/Lister fic. I think I'd call it "Waiting". It would have to be a Stargate crossover, even though I loath crossovers. The idea is that Lister and Rimmer crash on a paradise of an uninhabited planet. Then Lister starts dieing of , oh I dunno.... cancer from his cigars. Neither of them wants to go through his death, so Lister goes into stasis. Rimmer then does the first intelligent thing in his life er...death and uses the cloning technology in one of starbugs escape pods. This time he presses the button marked 'randomize genome?' and produces an actual race of people from his genes. Then, he waits. A very... long.... time. He hopes that the new humans will evolve to the point where they can cure frozen Lister. The people progess much slower than he had imagined. They build huts, they create fire, eat more fruits than meat, and are all around a very laid back and groovy people. They recognize Rimmer as their creator, but don't worship him. So SG1 comes to this planet and see the stasis pod propped up in an abandoned temple. Jack thinks it got a sort of Snow White thing going on. A guy from the village steps out of the bushes and says hello, Daniel wants to know why he speaks english. The guy explains that their creator god seems to have trouble learning their language, so some of them learned his. He goes on to say that their creater sat here by the Sleeping One and waited until the villagers brought him down to put him up in someone's hut. Daniel thinks that he must be talking about bringing a statue down, not literally a god. The guy asks if they want to meet him, and led them home. When they get to a nondescript hut and are taken inside they are suprised and slightly dissapointed to meet a nondescript man whose only remarkable features are a rather silly looking 'H' on his forhead, and impressively large nostrils. There is an awkward silence before Rimmer speaks. "Do any of you have any tea?" Daniel digs frantically in his BDU's while staring at the God, and produces a zip-baggy of green tea. Rimmer takes the bag and sniffs it. He wrinkles his nose and hands it back. "You lot are Americans, aren't you?"
That's as far as I've really thought it out.