#klcc

Kipperlilly gave a curt nod and turned back to her work. Riz put his briefcase down on his desk, pushing aside multiple empty or half-empty coffee mugs. He should really clean up a little. Kipperlilly’s desk was organised to perfection, and she never bothered to hide her judgemental glances when she passed his mess.

After a moment Riz looked over at her again. “What should I call you, then?”

“My name?” She didn’t raise her head, her pen writing picture perfect chicken scratches onto the page.

“It’s so long, though. Your parents must have nickname for you.”

Kipperlilly’s hand stilled for a moment, then went on as hurriedly as before. She gave no other reaction.

Riz bit his cheek and tried to tamp down the rising exasperation that was seizing up the muscles in his neck. He took a deep breath. “What about Lilly?”

Kipperlilly finally put down her pen. There was another moment of tense silence as she pursed her lips just slightly. It was a skill only they two together possessed, turning even the most trivial of conversations into long, exhausting ordeals.

Finally Kipperlilly broke the unnecessarily long lull. “Lilly’s fine.” There was something like resignation on her face. Her posture had somehow gotten worse, but the open hostility was gone.

They returned to silence, a more comfortable one this time. Riz got started on his daily checkup on his conspiracy board, looking at the clues and connections Kipperlilly had added before he came in. He had asked her repeatedly not to touch it, and she had staunchly ignored the request every time. Unfortunately, the things she added were never unhelpful, and she did know a thing or two about effective clue organisation.

After he felt certain the board was up to date with their investigation, he got to work scouring Bastion City newspapers.

After almost half an hour it was Kipperlilly who spoke up again. “What about you?”

“What about me?” It took Riz a moment to peel his eyes away from the words on his crystal tablet.

“What do you want me to call you?”

Riz fought an surprised smile. “Riz is short enough on its own, isn’t it?”

Kipperlilly grunted softly, like getting the right words from her brain was some terrible effort. Riz understood that feeling. “Well… yes. It’s just—” She twisted her fingers together in her lap, seemingly not able to keep still. “I know that certain people refer to you as ‘The Ball’”—she used air quotes, enunciating as if referring to some newly coined scientific term—“and thought maybe that was your preferred term of address among friends. And acquaintances.” That last part she tacked on hastily.

Riz stifled a laugh. ‘Term of address’ was wildly out of place in a high schooler’s vernacular, even if that high schooler was Kipperlilly Copperkettle (Riz chose to ignore the fact that ‘vernacular’ was not all that better). “I guess The Ball was my nickname for a while. Now it’s just Fabian who still uses it.” Riz smiled to himself. “At this point, outside of Fabian, it’s more of a title than a nickname.”

At that, Kipperlilly let out a brief but very real laugh. “So, Riz is good?”

“Riz is good”

—-—

Later that night, as they got ready to leave, Kipperlilly suddenly spoke up again. “Mom used to call me Kipper.”

Riz froze for a second. He put down the files he was sorting and looked over at her. She was already standing by the door, staring down at her hand on the doorknob.

“I always hated it, especially when she did it in front of the other kids. Now I guess I miss it.” Her fingers tightened around the knob. “Now she calls me nothing at all.”