capeandcowllogs | I can't believe what you said to me, last night we were alone.

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I can't believe what you said to me, last night we were alone.

WHO: Raven and Rimmer. Closed log.
WHERE: Lake Placid house, their bedroom.
WHEN: Backdated to the night of this post.
WARNINGS: Heavy theological content and philosophy. Discussion of souls. Discussion of humanity and demons. A couple in their pyjamas in bed. Yannow, the usual.
SUMMARY: Rimmer is none too keen on the fact that Raven seems to be of the opinion that she has no soul. Which, coming from him, is highly ironic all things considered. A discussion ensues.
FORMAT: Probably acres of Teal Deers.

His hologramatic pyjamas were in place, as he sat on the bed with his book, waiting for Raven to join him. He was reading a fascinating piece on Augustus, the emperor of Rome after Caesar.

Although his mind wasn't really on the military campaigns, defeating the Germans across the Rhine. Instead, his mind was firmly stuck in the rut from earlier tonight, when the subject of souls had popped up. And suddenly Arnold Rimmer was treading some seriously shaky theological ground, and he had no way to get to safety.

This was not a conversation that he wanted to have over their comms with dozens listening in. This was something that needed to happen in person...but she'd been avoiding him ever since. And now he had no idea how to broach this subject, or if he even should. But then, it occurred to him...they'd never really had the 'religion' discussion before. Well, aside from her telling him about Azar and Azarath. ...He just caught on to the fact that those were almost exactly the same word, way to go, Arn.

So he waited. And fidgeted. And fretted. And reread the same paragraph eighteen times as he hoped she would come upstairs tonight. She'd often said that she would never make him sleep on the couch...but that said nothing about her choosing that for herself instead. Hrm.

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She never did this to him. She'd never defended some part of her demon side to him in any respect, or been so harsh with him in a serious discussion. His blow to her pride must have gone deeper than he thought, and he really felt awful, now.

"I know I stink at showing it," he said quietly. "I did warn you, Raven. I warned you ages ago. I told you I was a smeghead."

And with that, he pushed the covers aside and slid out of bed, pushing his feet into his slippers as he swung his legs over the side. He was up and across the room seconds after that.

"... don't do that..." she breathed, closing her eyes for a moment before following him out of bed, and crossing the room to him without another thought about it.

"... this is why I don't talk to any of you boys about these things. None of you have the ability to understand where I'm coming from on this issue." she wrapped her arms around one of his, pressing her forehead to his shoulder.

"I don't want to upset you all with these things."

He was right at the door with his hand on the knob, ready to go downstairs and remove himself from her presence...just to keep from making her more angry. As she took hold of his arm, he slumped again, defeated completely in this moment. He'd only wanted her to feel good about herself, and had gone and made everything worse.

"I'm trying," he said quietly. "I really am. I thought I'd be the best person to understand this, but...I don't know. I just don't know. We're going to keep talking this in circles until we're throwing crockery at each other, so forget it. Just forget it."

"... come back to bed." she took a single step back, giving a little tug to his arm. "We'll work through this, just like everything else we've ever worked through."

She gave yet another tug on his arm, and a half-step back.

Turning and looking back at her, he began to follow her into bed, helpless in the face of her now-gentle voice and hand on his arm. And as they moved, his eyes caught hers.

She was so beautiful. He could look into her eyes for hours, days, and never get tired of it. And it was in that moment he realised something important. Her own beliefs on the state of her soul were hers, and he shouldn't and couldn't change them...but at the same time, his beliefs were his own too. And he would always, always believe that she had a soul. More soul, certainly, than the monsters who raised him, the so-called friends who tormented him, the co-workers who loathed him. They all saw Arnold Rimmer and despised him; she saw him and loved him.

So she could believe what she liked, and he wouldn't ever argue this point again. He would just look into her eyes and know his own truth, like she knew hers.

He stepped closer again and cupped her face with one hand.

"I love you," he said quietly.

She smiled up at him, honestly happy to hear him say that in the face of an ongoing disagreement. Lifting herself up on tip-toe (a lack of high heels to even out more of their height to blame), she kissed him, then slipped back into bed, holding the blankets back for him to join her.

"I love you too, Arnold."

She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear.

"... and I promise, I'm not putting myself down when I talk about all of this stuff. I really am okay with it, I really do see it as a positive now that I've had time to think on it."

Clambering back into the bed, he found his book face-down in the covers. He had to take a moment to put the bookmark back and tuck the volume onto his bedside table before he could truly relax. Even when they were quarreling, the man was an anally-retentive git.

Then he just put an arm around her shoulders and cuddled her close, still sitting up in the bed.

"And I promise, I wasn't trying to tell you you weren't good enough as is. I mean it, you're wonderful as is. I'd say 'perfect' but you'd accuse me of putting you on a pedestal again."

Her shoulders shook in a soft laugh and she shook her head, unsure of what to say to that in particular.

"... if you want to put me on a pedestal, go ahead. I'll try not to get too uncomfortable about the entire thing." she nuzzled in closer, taking a deep breath.

"I... I need to stop trying to change you. I think that's what I'm doing, anyway. I keep telling you to stop doing certain things and that's not right. I do love you precisely the way you are."

There was a medium-length pause there, as he tugged on his lower lip with his free hand, a wry half scowl, half smirk on his face.

"...And if I can manage to cheese you off by trying to make you feel better and assure you that I love you, perhaps you should be trying to change me. I'm completely hopeless sometimes. I can't think of a single other man in the entire multiverse who would get in a quarrel with his finacee because he was telling her she did have a soul. I'm just...too much of a giant jackarse, clearly."

"That's more my problem than it is yours, Arnold. I can't wrap my head around why you feel it's so important to have a soul."

She went to lie back into the pillows, getting far more comfortable for a less... angry... version of the very same discussion. Who knows... maybe it'd get them somewhere?

"If I did have a soul, I would have gone to some sort of afterlife once I died. I wouldn't be here with you."

"And I can't wrap my head around why you'd be so insistent you didn't have one. I guess those bible classes my mum dragged me to as a boy had a deeper impact than I thought, hm?"

He kissed the crown of her head and snuggled down further into the blankets.

"Darling, I'm not trying to change your thoughts on this. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice in such a short time. You believe that. You're glad of it. I'm fine with that, I really am. I just know that...well, we both died and came back. Maybe that means we've just got more soul than normal."

The look on her face read 'yeah okay' like nothing else, but she gave in, just shaking her head as she rested her body against the warmth of his. Better to disagree and be cuddly than argue and storm about like they were, that was for sure.

"Just..." she sighed once more, wanting to bring up so many more points - how it made her immortal in a way, how the trade-off was her powers that had saved her and many others quite a few times...

"... okay."

"Okay."

He snuggled her closer still, one foot rubbing against the satiny skin of her leg. It was silly, but he liked doing it. It just...felt nice.

"I really didn't mean to make you upset, dear. I'm sorry."

"I didn't mean to upset you either, so I think we're about even there." she smirked up at him, twisting a bit of his hair with her fingers. She did it for much the same reason...

"Are there any other topics like this we should get out in the open now, before it explodes?"

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps your thoughts on abortion? Gun control? Saying the pledge in schools? Here's my great secret; I'm going to go to one of those ridiculous Tea Party rallies next week. Don't tell."

He smirked down at her, and nudged her with his elbow.

"Although they'd probably throw me out the second they heard my accent. What do you think...should I pretend to be an American or what?"

He said that last in a really broad Texas drawl, which was actually quite good.

"Arnold, I'm serious!" she laughed out, utterly charmed by that fake accent he had put on for her.

"And you wouldn't have to worry, I'd be far too horrified you were going to one of those rallies. I wouldn't tell a soul, rather pretend I didn't know you for a few days after."

Ah. She laughed. That made everything so much better, it really did. If she wasn't laughing, he was smegged.

"Don't worry, I've absolutely zero intention of hanging my flag with those fruitcakes. American politics reminds me too much of a television show. When somebody popular enters the room, the studio audience goes 'woooooo!' and then there's a new tax code suddenly."

Well he had pretty much summed up her feelings right there, enough to make her laugh a bit more, and even go as far as to kiss his forehead.

"It is a bit like that, I try to avoid it altogether if I can, and I'm from this country, technically."

"I keep waiting for the queen to come out and wave at the crowds, honestly."

Kissing. Oh, kissing was nice too. As she turned her face away, he darted in and stole a kiss from the corner of her mouth. Hey, at least this time they hadn't made each other cry. That was an improvement, right?

"I love you, my little soulless wife to be."

Now he was just teasing her.

No need to steal a kiss after a silly little line like that, she directly kissed him this time, beaming a smile at him as she pulled back.

"I love you too. ... I'm very sorry for how I was acting earlier, it was immature."

"...Thank you," he said, with a little smile. "It was immature. And it hurt. But thank you for apologising, and I absolutely accept it. And I'm sorry I was being so...narky at you. I was upset and taking it out on you, and I apologise for that as well."

See? Married couples could actually have fights and make up, smeghead. He knew he really needed to nip those 'TOO SOON' feelings in the bud soon, or he'd have a nasty surprise on his wedding day...

Now she allowed herself to curl up the way she did most nights, right up against his side where no matter when she woke up, she'd feel the security of him there. He'd probably never know how much of a comfort that was to her.

"I forgive you too."

Was it really that easy to just... make up? Near-constant arguing with Gar for Azar-only-knew-how-long had made her wary to the entire argument process.

As they settled down into the blankets further, he kissed her again for good measure, and then held her look. She was...god, just so very beautiful.

"Thank you."

Then, there was a comfortable - well, all right, not 100% comfortable, call it 99% comfortable - silence, where they didn't need to talk about it anymore, but could just be. These were the moments when he loved her the most, truth be told. When he could just lay here quietly with her and feel accepted and connected and not so unutterably lonely anymore.

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I can't believe what you said to me, last night we were alone.

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