Magnus was glad to have left the room and he walked around the house checking for damages and the doors, everything was fine. And he went to the kitchen and began to heat up the water for coffee, but he stared outside, his mind unfocused.
A/N- Just a reminder to anyone new reading text in bold was written by http://detektivmartinsson.tumblr.com/ and the rest was written by me!
Magnus felt the tension ease slightly, but he had to remember as well that she was a client, she was his mark, and she couldn’t be anything more than that.
Rebecka stood up with him and she went inside, pouring herself another cup of coffee and then walking back out to the porch. She felt just a little relief. At least she said more than 2 sentences to him and he had responded in a real way. And he had patted her knee. She laughed to herself, patted her knee.
She was clearly losing it, she hadn’t had her knee patted since she was in middle school, since she had gotten breasts. She guessed she wasn’t as young as she used to be, and clearly she was not his type.
She wasn’t going to spend any time on thoughts like that though, She had to be here with him until Wallander figured things out back in Ystad…and it was probably better if all he wanted to do was pat her knee. She turned and called into the house.
“I’m just going to walk around out here. I won’t go further than the dock…” and she turned and smiled at him, the cold air making her cheeks pink as she took another sip of her coffee and walked toward the water.
I'm normally to shy to give amazing writers the praise they deserve. I really enjoy reading your stories and RP's. I think your RP's with detektivmartinsson are among the best out there. Halma and you created a world, were the characters and stories become real and it's absolutley lovely watching your characters go through their mundane parts of life as well as the more exciting ones. Thank you very much for giving me the pleasure of reading those stories on a few cloudy afternoons.
Oh my darling, thank you…thank you so much. Your lovely words leave me a bit speechless…
I love finally having a platform for the characters and stories in my head and I feel so lucky that Halma found me and convinced me to embark on this adventure with her. I have actually been talking to Halma for exactly one year this month here on tumblr and the way we have been able to grow and work together to create this world is inspiring TO ME!! So to hear that it brings you some enjoyment and pleasure, well, icing on the cake and you have truly made my day!
Thank you so much for reading and for your lovely message!
Rebecka nodded to him and got out of the car, rushing quickly into the building and making sure the lobby door was locked behind her. She took the stairs 2 at a time again thinking that she would be very happy to not be here for a while, even if that meant being locked up somewhere with a man who disliked her. He seemed different now though. He was at work.
Hello my dear! Just wanted to drop by and wish you a happy holiday season. I got caught up on everything I have been missing. Looking forwarding to reading more. ((hugs))
Awww! Been missing you deary!!! I feel so bad I haven’t been posting much, writing tons but not posting. There is a ‘butt ton’(that is a very precise measure!! I looked it up!!!) of ‘Worth a Thousand Words’ so I’ll be posting that for a while. It made me smile when I saw your little hearts pop up on my screen!! Tomorrow is busy, but it will be a great feast. I hope you have a fantastic holiday!! : )
A/N- I was asked for an easier way to read the whole thread that DetektivMartinsson and RebeckaLindahl have been writing together. It’s a long story. I’ll post in installments. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. (bold text is Magnus, the rest is Rebecka) ♥
(Thank you to http://detektivmartinsson.tumblr.com/ for the excellent graphics to go along with the thread!)
Magnus felt out of place, completely. Though the Lindahl’s were nice people, nice enough to ask his family over for the New Years party that everyone seemed to be invited to, but he couldn’t help but feel like it was just him that felt all over the place, like something was wrong and it shifted inside of him like a car on the wrong gear.
They had all marvelled at the comparison of brothers, how identical they were and Magnus humoured them for the small while before he made his escape.
It was snowing, or it had snowed, outside and Magnus sat on the dock bundled up in his jacket. The water was frozen solid now and there were marks from where the girls had been skating. Magnus used to always be the one that skated first when the waters froze over, but not so much anymore. His leg hurt in the cold and it locked at odd moments so he would just fall over or be in a lot of pain.
"Hej. Your brother said you were out here."
He turned to see Rebecka coming out, she looked pretty in her party dress and she was wearing her thick jacket. Their friendship was… strange. Magnus still couldn’t put his finger on what it was, sometimes it was more and sometimes it was less.
"Why aren’t you at the party?"
She shrugged, avoiding his gaze and Magnus turned back to the house, the lights on and everyone having a good time.
"She’ll stop being mean some day."
"Just like Ansgar?" Rebecka asked.
"Ansgar isn’t mean he’s just… different from me."
"I see how you pretend to be like him, is that for him? Do you pretend to be a flirt just to make him happy?"
Magnus looked at her and he turned away.
"Sorry." She said, and Magnus shook his head.
"I do it for me." He said, and he sighed, "I… this is my last Christmas here. I go to Malmo to study and… well, that’s it for me. I guess I’m just trying to remember it."
They sat in silence for a long while and her hand reached over and grabbed his. He looked at their hands and he looked up at her.
"So I guess that means I won’t see you over the holidays then?"
Magnus looked at her and he shook his head, “No.”
Inside someone shouted something loudly and Rebecka turned back to the frozen lake. “We should get inside, it’s nearly time.”
He looked at her as she had attempted to get up, and inside the house they all started to shout, all started to cry.
"Five… four… three… two…"
Magnus looked at her and he took a deep breath before he leaned in and pressed a kiss onto Rebecka Lindahl’s lips as everyone shouted and congratulated each other on another year. But on the dock, two teenagers were kissing and nothing else mattered.
He pulled back then, breathless and he saw her face tinged with pink.
"Happy New Year, Rebecka Lindahl."
Magnus didn’t know what was wrong with them. He really didn’t. Every time he thought he had finished one thing they would ask him to do another and it would go on and on, and sometimes Magnus wondered if it was worth it.
This was one of those moments.
He was beneath the sink, his tools in reach as he was fixing the leaky faucet that had seemed to have been bothering the family for a week now. He had told them that he would have to turn off the water so that he could be able to get it working again and he did so with the protests of the girls in the house who needed their hot showers.
"I promise it won’t be for long." Their mother had said and she had told him to come by the next say while they were out of the house so that he could do the work without them bothering him.
Magnus worked diligently, only slightly aware of the people coming into the kitchen as he worked. He looked up when a shadow crossed over him and he saw Rebecka’s gold-blonde hair hanging down and her eyes looking at him.
"Is it nearly fixed?"
He turned back to the screws, “Few more minutes.”
She turned around and Magnus listened as she went to the other room. She had opted to remain in the house while he worked, not wanting to join her sister for a family trip and her mother said she can keep an eye on Magnus while she was there. Magnus felt a bit irritated that they would think he needed to be watched, as if he was going to do something wrong.
Magnus was still working when the plastic stopped broke in his hand and he looked around for the spare. He must have left it in the truck. Getting up Magnus closed everything up and he went outside to grab the bag of stoppers when he heard a scream and a loud hissing noise.
Magnus ran back into the house and he saw Rebecka covering her face as water sprayed everywhere. He went towards her and he grabbed her, spinning her around so that she was behind him and he grabbed the full force of the water and he rushed to get it all closed.
"What the hell!"
"I thought you wer-"
"When I’m finished I’ll say I’m fucking finished!"
He didn’t care that he was yelling at the daughter of the person paying him, he just knew that she had turned on the tap and had created a mess that Magnus would not doubt be blamed for.
He crouched down again and he breathed angrily as he finished the sink, and he spent 20 minutes cleaning up the water that had spread everywhere and that had covered himself in.
His anger had dissipated a bit as he checked the water and it was working fine. He put his things in the car and then he went in search of Rebecka, who he assumed had his money.
"Rebec…" he stopped when he saw her, she was still wet from the water, but that wasn’t all. She had been crying. Magnus, for a moment, thought of going back, of turning away and deciding that he’d come back for the money later. But she had seen him and there was nowhere he could go now. He licked his lips, "The tap is working now, tell your mum I’ll be back tomorrow for…Look, I’m sorry."
She still didn’t say anything and Magnus had no idea where to go from there, he sighed.
"It’s just that…It’s… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout at you" After another moment of silence Magnus shook his head, "Look tell your mum I’ll… I don’t need payment for this, it’s fine. I’ll… I’ll show my way out."
(( It was meant to be a drabble but i has no idea how to end it ))
(Here’s my part!)
Rebecka stood on the dock for a long time. She had said she would help, she had said she would be the one to make sure he got paid. But she didn’t want to do it anymore. It was like she was always on edge, she could never rest. When it wasn’t her sister and her friends, and their inane behavior, it was him. He was always serious, she could never say anything right. When she tried to help, she couldn’t, when she tried to stay out of his way, she only got in it.
This was supposed to be her summer holiday, she was supposed to be having fun and she wasn’t…she couldn’t even concentrate on reading! He was always there, his shirt sleeves rolled up or wearing a tank top showing off his glistening muscular arms, his hair bouncing up in soft curls as he moved, his hands, always dirty and sweaty, but so big and long and graceful. It was killing her.
She knew she had to get him his money before her parents came home, but they had the car…and walking around the lake would take forever… She sat down on the dock and looked across the water. There was a platform halfway across the lake and she estimated how far of a swim it would be. She had done it before, though not all at once. But she made up her mind.
He would have his fucking money. He could yell at her all he wanted, she didn’t care, but he would have his fucking money.
Rebecka shoved the wad of bills in her jean shorts pocket, deep so that they wouldn’t be lost, and she dove into the lake. The water was a little chilly this time of the day, actually it was the air that had a bit of a chill, it was not yet midsummer.
She swam fast at first, her embarrassment and her anger pushing her faster than she would have normally gone, but it felt good to exert herself. It felt good to have some physical discomfort to match her inner turmoil. She finally settled into a rhythm, a steady pace and all that mattered was the breathing and her hands slicing through the water and her feet propelling her ever forward.
She didn’t think of him, or his beautiful eyes, or his lean body, or how he looked at her like there was something wrong with her. She just swam.
Rebecka stopped at the platform and rested a few minutes, stretching out and breathing to the sky. She wouldn’t cry anymore.
She dove in once again and swam the rest of the way across the lake. She knew which house was his, she knew her way there. She walked out of the lake, soaking wet and breathing hard, straight to his front door. A woman answered, she must have been his mother. Rebecka thought about asking after Magnus, but really, what would have been the point of that.
“Hej,” she said trying to smile, but she was exhausted. “I’m…I’m Rebecka Lindahl…I have some money for Magnus…he did some work for my fathere and he left without getting paid today…could you…give it to him?” she asked as she fished the drenched bills from her pocket. Rebecka was so thirsty, it was strange how swimming in all that water made her so thirsty, but she didn’t want to ask for a drink of water. “Sorry…straight across the lake was the fastest way here…” and she handed the woman the wet money. His mother took the bills from her, a look of shock on her face.
“You…you swam here? But…” she started to say. Rebecka waved her off.
“I’m a good swimmer. Please tell him…I’m sorry…when you see him…” and Rebecka turned to walk back to the lake without letting his mother say anything else. She didn’t hear the door close.
She had just about gotten to the water’s edge when she heard Magnus’ voice calling her. She turned to see him running out of the house, shirtless and fastening his pants at his waist, his body glistening with water, he must have been in the shower.
“Rebecka! Rebecka!!” he yelled, desperate for her to stop before she got back into the water. “What…what are you doing? What did you do?” he said catching up to her and putting his hands on her wet arms, bending down and looking in her eyes.
Rebecka stood with him and gestured to the house. “I…I left your money with your mother. You did the work…and the extra work…and you get paid…”
She turned and went to step into the water again.
“You fucking swam here? Are you…what the…who does that?!” he stammered as his hand caught hers. He wouldn’t let her go back in the water. His fingers wrapped around her hand tightly, not letting her go.
“It’s not that far, and quicker than walking…my family has the car…”
“I would have…you could have called me and I would have come over. You only had to call me Rebecka,” he said earnestly. But she knew he wouldn’t have come if she told him she needed to give him his money. She knew. She said nothing.
“Well, you’re not swimming back…it’s got to be 2 miles across…I’m not letting you…” and he shook his head. “I’ll drive you home. Let me get you a coat though, you are shivering,” he said as he ran his hands down her arms and pulled her closer to him.
He led her into the house and she asked for a glass of water. His mother looked at her with a mix of suspicion and humor as Magnus wrapped Rebecka in his coat and he slipped on a shirt.
He drove her home and when she tried to give his jacket back, he wouldn’t take it. He wrapped it around her tighter and walked her to her front door.
“I…” he wanted to say he was sorry again, sorry for yelling at her, “I…I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be over to paint the shed in the morning,” he said gently. He leaned forward to kiss her forehead but he heard the car coming down the drive. He straightened and walked away from her, getting into his truck and waving to her family as he passed them.
“Why are you soaking wet in your clothes?” her mother asked as she walked into the house with her. “And why are you wearing Magnus’ jacket?”
“Long story… I went for a swim…” she said as she took the stairs two at a time and got into the hot shower, washing the lake off her.
And while we’re on the subject, I’d like to say a few words about escapism. I hear the term bandied about as if it’s a bad thing. As if “escapist” fiction is a cheap opiate used by the muddled and the foolish and the deluded, and the only fiction that is worthy, for adults or for children, is mimetic fiction, mirroring the worst of the world the reader finds herself in.
If you were trapped in an impossible situation, in an unpleasant place, with people who meant you ill, and someone offered you a temporary escape, why wouldn’t you take it? And escapist fiction is just that: fiction that opens a door, shows the sunlight outside, gives you a place to go where you are in control, are with people you want to be with (and books are real places, make no mistake about that); and more importantly, during your escape, books can also give you knowledge about the world and your predicament, give you weapons, give you armour: real things you can take back into your prison. Skills and knowledge and tools you can use to escape for real.
As JRR Tolkien reminded us, the only people who inveigh against escape are jailers.
You are a wonderful writer, it's a delight to read your work. Xx
Oh my goodness! Thank you so much my dear!!
I feel like such a heel, I haven’t been posting like I used to, just so much going on and sometimes the big stories I have in my head just won’t cooperate with me! I am still attempting to finish a story I started several months ago and hopefully with the holidays coming up I will be inspired to do some fun drabbles and one shots.
Thank you so much for your lovely message and for reading!
A/N- It has been SOOOOOOO long since I’ve written an actual drabble. Magnus and Rebecka cause I love them and they give me a lot of feelings. Insiped partially by this http://iamstillnotsorry.tumblr.com/post/64965396211/tomhiddlescum-self-satisfied-bastard .
She had gotten up immediately when he had gotten up this morning. It was unusual. Normally she would stay in bed, roll over to his spot and breathe in his warmth and scent left on the sheets from sleeping there all night. But not today. Today was special. Today was the end. She had been dreading it. She went into the bathroom while he was showering and sat down while he washed up. She smiled at the steam, and the heat and the smell of his shampoo, and she listened to him hum softly.
My other favorite line was “And maybe I don’t get to know you as a friend, but I will protect you like family.”
“Can I at least turn on the radio?”
“No. Someone might hear us.”
“Magnus. There isn’t a soul for miles.”
“You don’t know that.”
He could be such a pain in the ass. A good cop, an excellent detective, but such a massive pain in the ass.
“You’re right,” she said. “That old barn over there looks…