AN: This story takes place in what I like to think of as my series two and a half, after "Second Childhood," "Persistence of Memory," and "It's a Thought." Thanks again to everyone who's given me feedback; it's always nice to get it.

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, and I'm not making any money from this, so please don't sue me.

Turnabout

Cat was crouched by the open doorway to the bunk room, waiting quietly as Rimmer turned the corner. If Rimmer had been human, he would've tripped over Cat, but as it was, he stopped just before he would've walked through Cat. Although Rimmer knew he could technically walk through anything he wanted, he still felt uncomfortable doing it.

"What are you doing?" Rimmer snapped, irritated at being reminded of his hologrammatic status.

"Waiting for the round mouse," Cat said in hushed tones.

Rimmer glanced at the doorway, then back at Cat. "There's no such thing as a round mouse."

Cat held a finger to his lips. "Ssh! You'll scare it away!"

Rimmer could tell it was going to be another one of those Rimmer-against-the-world days. "Let me explain something, you goldfish-brained modo. Mice can be white, brown, or grey. They cannot be, and will never be, round."

A ball rolled into the doorway, and Cat pointed to it. "There it is!"

"That's not a mouse," Rimmer said. "That's a ball."

Cat nodded. "That's what I said. But when I tried to catch it, it moved."

Rimmer wasn't sure whether to pity the ignorance of the entire cat species or just this particular cat. He decided to go with this particular cat until further notice. "Ah, yes. The thing is, when balls move, that's called 'rolling.'"

Cat made a face at Rimmer. "I mean it moved on its own! Only a few things move on their own, and one of those things is a mouse."

Cat crept closer to the ball, but just as he got close enough to touch it, it rolled away. Cat shook his head. "That's the smartest mouse I've ever seen."

Rimmer had seen enough, and he headed for the bunk room. "Unbelievable."

"Hey, what are you doing?" Cat asked, springing to his feet.

Rimmer gave Cat a pitying smile. "Scaring the mouse so it runs into the hallway and you can catch it."

Cat looked suspicious. "Okay. As long as I get the mouse."

Rimmer decided to try common sense. "What would I want with a mouse?"

Cat crossed his arms. "I don't know. Just don't take it. It's mine."

Rimmer nodded. "Right."

Upon entering the bunk room, Rimmer discovered that Lister was hiding just inside, holding the "mouse." Lister had attached a length of clear fishing line to the ball. Rimmer noticed that Lister was quite pregnant—what was he, eight months along? Rimmer wouldn't have been sitting on the floor with a gut that size, and he doubted Lister would be able to get up again.

"What are you doing?" Rimmer asked, pretending he didn't already know.

Lister made a shushing gesture at Rimmer. "Playing with Cat."

Rimmer raised his eyebrows. "Don't you have anything more important to do than tricking that overgrown hairball into believing a ball with fishing line attached to it is a round mouse?"

Lister considered the question for a moment. "No."

Rimmer shook his head. "You know, if you really are the last living human—"

"I'm not," Lister interrupted. "Jim and Bexley are."

Yes, it was definitely a Rimmer-against-the-world day. Rimmer sighed heavily. "If you really are the last living human at the moment, you might try doing something for the betterment of humanity."

Lister glanced down at himself. "I did. I put on a clean shirt today."

"I mean something genuinely useful," Rimmer said.

"Like?" Lister asked, looking at Rimmer for suggestions.

Rimmer was happy to provide some. "You might study geology, for example, or art. You might take up painting."

Lister seemed to think that was ridiculous. "That wouldn't make any difference to anybody."

"It would make a difference to me. And it would make a difference to you, because for once you'd have something on your mind besides large-breasted women and lager," Rimmer said.

Lister rested a hand on his stomach. "Hey, I haven't had a lager for eight months 'cause of me boys."

"You know what I mean," Rimmer said, turning to the mirror and playing with his H. "You never even make an attempt to learn something you don't already know. You are the last repository of human knowledge and you know less than a ten-year-old child who's been locked in a padded room all his life."

"I'm not the last repository of human knowledge," Lister said. "Holly is. And what about you?"

Rimmer turned back to Lister. "Me?"

"You could be a repository too. Why aren't you?" Lister asked.

Wasn't it obvious? "I'm dead."

"So? You're still here," Lister said.

Rimmer could see it was time for the superiority speech. "I'm constantly studying to better myself and learn more."

Lister smiled. "Yeah, and it never works."

Rimmer drew himself to his full height. "It does so."

Lister shook his head. "You can't speak Esperanto; you don't know astronomy or engineering. Face it, Rimmer, you're as much of a failure in that department as me."

That was the worst insult Rimmer could think of. "At least I'm trying! You don't even try. All you do is sit around and vegetate."

Lister looked thoughtful. "Vegetate?"

"Have I finally got through to you?" Rimmer asked.

"Yeah, you've made me hungry. Help me up?" Lister said.

Oh, that's right. Rub it in. "You know I can't do that," Rimmer said.

"All right. I'll manage." Lister struggled valiantly to his feet. It took him a while, but eventually, he was standing. "That wasn't so bad."

Rimmer checked his watch. "No. You've just beaten the world record for a hippopotamus."

"Hey, I don't make fun of your weight," Lister said.

"That's because I'm light, and light doesn't weigh anything," Rimmer said. Five points for Rimsy.

Lister was still holding the ball, and he tossed it gently in the air, just within arm's length of Rimmer. "Hey, Rimmer. Catch."

Rimmer crossed his arms and watched the ball fall, as there was nothing else he could do. "Very funny."

Lister brushed off his pants. "Anyway, Holly asked me to repair one of her conduits in the Drive Room."

Rimmer didn't like the sound of that at all. "Since when are you qualified to perform such delicate repairs?"

"Since I'm the only person on the ship who can hold a wrench," Lister said, shrugging.

"Cat can," Rimmer said.

"Yeah, but Cat won't lie down on the floor to fix anything, so that leaves me," Lister said.

Ever since Lister had caused that huge explosion by forcing some plug into a white cable, Rimmer was extremely wary of Lister's electrical prowess. "You'd better not screw this up."

"Look who's talking," Lister said.

Rimmer winced at the reference to his own moment of repair weakness. "I'm just saying—"

Lister rolled his eyes. "I know. Holly's responsible for all our lives. She's the only thing that keeps us from drifting aimlessly in space."

Rimmer wouldn't have gone that far. "Actually, since her gender reassignment, I've had the feeling that Holly is floating aimlessly in space."

"Nice," Lister said.

Rimmer knew Lister would never come to appreciate the value of a fine, dry wit, so he changed the subject. "And I don't know why you keep calling Holly 'she.'"

"Well, she's a girl now, isn't she?" Lister asked.

"Computers have no gender, Lister," Rimmer said.

"Of course they do. If you've got a face, you've got a gender," Lister said.

Clearly you never took a human biology class. "I'm so glad you're a top-notch scientist who can explain these things to me."

"You called him "he" before the change, didn't you?" Lister asked.

"I suppose," Rimmer said.

Lister kicked the ball under the table. "Anyway, I promised Holly I'd get on those repairs before lunchtime."

"I'd better supervise," Rimmer said.

"Why? You can't help if anything goes wrong. All you can do is shout at me." Lister said.

Rimmer smiled. "Never underestimate the therapeutic power of shouting, Lister, particularly at you."

Lister shook his head and left the room.

Cat was still waiting in the corridor when Rimmer followed Lister out of the bunk room.

Cat stood, approaching Rimmer. "Well? Did you get it?"

"I think it's been temporarily stunned," Rimmer said.

Cat spun 360 degrees in excitement. "Oooh! Nice little mousie…stay right where you are…" He raced into the room.

Rimmer shook his head and followed Lister down the corridor.