The Stronghold 2: Immortals

RAINBOWS

By the time I came back to life Caspar had gone back to his flat on the ground floor and Brian was cleaning up. As I blinked open my eyes I saw him walking across the office with a mop over his shoulder, whistling. He put it away in a cupboard I hadn't noticed and then turned back to the room, at first sighing and then jumping as he realised I was awake and staring at him.

"I tidied up," he said helpfully.

"Thanks." I stretched in my chair and shivered. It was about ten o'clock at night and I'd been draped across two armchairs. The stitching dug into my back and I sat up, wriggled backwards and stayed sat sideways in the largest armchair, hugging a cushion for warmth. 

"I couldn't wash your tee, however," Brian continued. "It's stained." 

"I've never heard anybody call a T-Shirt a 'tee'," I said with a smile. Brian went slightly pink and threw the ripped bit of fabric to me, turning away quickly.

"It's stupid," he mumbled. "And childish."

"Hey, I'm stupid and childish, it doesn't mean it's a bad thing," I said, throwing my T-Shirt onto the fire that was hidden behind a panel during the day. "Calling things different things is okay. I can't remember anything any of the time and make up nicknames for everything but tee is an actual word! In use! By people! That's good!"

"I suppose," Brian said doubtfully. "You said that you make up nicknames for everything. Does that, er, does that apply to people?"

"Yep," I said, leaning on the back of my chair so that I could see him and using shadows to subtly make him face me. "You're Junior."

"Original," Brian said dryly. "But better than Brian."

"If you think your name's bad I can tell you some a lot worse," I said, smirking. "For example, Pepper. And Salt. And Albin. And Bench. And Shaade."

"Your name isn't bad," Brian said. "I think it's cool."

"It's annoying," I whined. "People can't go outside on a sunny day and say 'I'm going to sit in the shade' without other people laughing!" 

"Don't you have a middle name you can go by at all?" Brian asked.

"No."

"A nickname?"

"No."

"Anything?"

"No."

"You do realise that as an agent you need to be called something else, right?" Brian said with one eyebrow raised. "If you ever go out. Also for phone contacts."

"Oh, right." I thought for a minute and then sprang to my feet. "I will be Superman!"

Brian laughed as I ran around the room, light and rainbows effectively creating me a cape. I cheered to myself and sang the notes to the Superman theme song, jumping over tables and skidding across the floor in the few wheeled chairs there were. Eventually I crashed into the wall and my cape melted away leaving me upside down with my hair in my face and my legs up against the wall looking completely ridiculous.

"That was spectacular," Brian said, a wide grin on his face. "But you're still not being Superman."

"Aw," I said, sliding down the wall and shooting across the floor like a rocket-propelled worm. "What can I be, then?"

"Insane?" Brian suggested. I scowled at him and straightened up, leaning against a desk as I tried to recover some energy. It was actually quite tiring, bouncing about like a dolphin if dolphins could go on land and not die.

"Why can't my actual name be put there?" I asked. "Why does everything have to be so secret? Why can't people just be truthful and out with themselves?"