Lily didn't often ask for stories at bedtime from her caretaker-friend; she usually could go to sleep with no problems, and besides, it seemed he was always tired. He would always be yawning, or he would have a headache from somewhere. She just didn't ask - it wasn't necessary.

Tonight was a night out of the ordinary: she seemed to be insomniac, and he'd taken an afternoon sleep and was not at all tired. She called him to come to her room.

"Yeah?" he asked, peeking into the room. "D'you want something?"

She held out the book she wanted to be read: "Nine Unlikely Tales" by E. Nesbit.

"You want me to read it to you?" Lily nodded yes. "Okay." He looked for a place to sit; she shifted to let him position himself next to her in the bed. He chuckled. "If that's what you want."

He sat down on the bed, gangly legs on top of the covers, and she practically shoved the book into his hands as he did. He opened the cover and began to read, in a very fancy British accent.

Hardly had he read a paragraph when Lily popped a question. "Mister Nickel, what are savages?"

"Oh, uh, they..." He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. "Back then, the British would refer to the tribal people they were trying to colonise as savages, because they didn't behave like the Brits expected they would."

"That's mean," she said.

"It is," Nickel agreed, "and it's a little bit of a shame that the term is in this book." He waved his hand dismissively. "Anyway - where were we?"

He continued on with the story, raising his voice pitch when reading dialogue to simulate the characters' voices. Even though he did this, he didn't go high enough; his voice was still too deep for the characters to whom the words pertained.

She explained her issue after he paused for a short moment: "Mister Nickel, your voice doesn't match the characters."

"I know," he answered. "But if I go too high, it'll sound stupid - plus, my head'll hurt if I do it for long." He smiled cheekily. "Besides, if I tried to do a "little girl" voice, I would fail."

Lily giggled. A voice like hers did contrast heavily with one like his.

Then Nickel noticed something. "Wait - the light's still on." He got up to switch it off, saying something about his voice changing, whatever that meant.

Lily swiftly found out: his voice was even deeper in the dark. How and why, she had no idea.

"Alright, let's continue," he said upon returning to his prior position and turning on the nightlight.

Now, the voices sounded even more off. She brought it up again soon after he'd restarted.

"Well, d'you want me to read something that my voice acting fits?" was his response, his tone challenging her to say yes. She knew better. "I didn't think so."

Lily recalled the time Nickel had told her, at her regretful behest, that rather frightening horror tale about a woman who was buried alive. It was by a man called Alfred, or something. Her takeaway, outside of "never again ask Nickel to tell a story for Halloween", was that her big friend's vocal tone was very good for scary tales, and he would often use it effectively.

She didn't want to go through that another time. She refrained from mentioning the discrepancy again.

Ironically, his low voice reading a peaceful story made her want to sleep more than the story itself. She tried hard to make it to the end, but she just couldn't do it. She awoke the next morning wondering what happened to the Green Land, and if they managed to stop the bird from laughing.

.

.

.

Nickel was staying over at Topaz after dropping Lily off to school.

The ebony-coloured cat had spotted him passing by and invited him in; an invitation to which he'd agreed, of course. He had no responsibilities for the Resistance at the moment, so why should he not spend time with her?

Currently, Topaz was getting herself a drink of some description while Nickel sat on the sofa and busied himself with his screen. The television was on and showing something, but he didn't know what it was, and he dared not watch and risk a headache again.

Presently, Topaz returned and sat down next to him, glass with drink in hand. It looked like orange juice. "Alright, I'm back," she declared.

"Welcome back," he replied. "Is that your breakfast?"

"Uh-huh. This is what I usually have - it's actually really good, if you wanna try it."

She held out the vessel to him, but he refused. He'd had his fill at home already. "No, it's okay. Thanks for the offer, though."

She smiled and shrugged, before taking another sip. Maybe he'd ask where it came from so that he could try it sometime later.

Not much conversation passed between them until Topaz got curious and shifted a little closer, peering at what Nickel was doing on his screen. "What are you doing now?" she asked him.

"Oh, I'm writing a story," he said.

"What kind?"

"Uh... romance."

She looked both surprised and amused. "You write romance?"

He felt embarrassment overtake him as he scratched the back of his head. "Well, yeah. I like romance."

"Me too!" she declared. "Can I see what you have so far?"

As if he weren't embarrassed enough. Nevertheless he agreed, and he handed his device to her after scrolling up to the top.

Nickel waited in quiet anticipation for Topaz's response. It wasn't a lot; he hadn't written a novel, just a few scenes, but he hoped what he had would suffice and satiate her intrigue.

Eventually, she handed his screen back and spoke, head facing forward and eyes closed. "Nickel. Sir."

"Yes?"

A pause hung in the air between them, before Topaz looked at him again. And suddenly her entire tone changed. "That was amazing!"

He blushed at the sudden praise, but she wasn't done yet. "Honestly! I loved it, you did such a great job."

"Heh - thanks," he replied, a shy but nearly indelible smile on his face. "What was your favourite part, out of curiosity?"

"I think the part where they heard Phantom's voice for the first time. I relate to the characters - it reminds me of when I met you. And I even think you were a little bit shyer than him back then."

That surprised Nickel; the character he'd written called Phantom was particularly shy. "Oh? How interesting."

She smiled brightly at him. "Do you have any more stories I could read?"

"Well, yeah," he said, "but they're just these little snippets. Not actually, like, a proper story."

"That's okay! After reading that first one, I'm pretty sure whatever else you have is just as good."

Nickel definitely didn't think so, he knew what he had written on his way to this point, but he liked the faith she'd placed in him and so he relented and showed her some other portions of his work as the day whittled away.