Author's Note: So here's the deal. I was not expecting to make "Perplexing" more than a one-shot, but then a wonderful person called StefhaniStewart came along with encouragement and good ideas, and so here's another chapter. I expect there to be one more after this. Anyways, enjoy, and please review!
"You know that's going to kill you, right?"
"I hate having sex with doctors." She narrowed her black eyes at him, and he had no idea if she was joking or not. She took another long drag from her cigarette, turning back to the panoramic window.
It didn't matter how often Anders Jonasson visited Fiskargatan 9, it's scenery still managed to take his breath away. They sat in her window seat, scantily clad, in some early hour of the morning.
It didn't matter how many nights he spent with Lisbeth Salander, she still managed to take his breath away, too.
He sighed. "Hand it over."
She passed him the cigarette, grinning crookedly. "I'm a bad influence on you."
"You want pizza?" She asked, getting to her feet. She wore only a bra and panties as she headed in the direction of her massive kitchen.
"Sure." He searched around for his jeans and a shirt before following her.
He arrived in the other room to find her retrieving a pizza from the microwave. They shared it in the darkness, neither needing to speak.
"Lisbeth." He said after a moment.
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
"I really like you."
She gave him a vaguely horrified look.
Lisbeth finished her pizza and left the room impassively. He stayed a while longer, not sure if he regretted his words or not. He did like her a lot—since their unusual beginnings the odd woman had grown on him. She may have been near impossible to read, and not one for emotion, but she was strong and capable and seemed to like him enough to have some kind of strange, half baked relationship with him, that involved sex and spending long hours together before and afterward.
After a few minutes, he tossed the microwavable package in the garbage and wandered back to the bedroom. He found her asleep, her slight form naked under the silk sheets. He undressed and crawled in next to her, sliding an arm around her. She didn't stir.
He couldn't help but wonder what the logical progression of this relationship was. He'd been with her for nearly a year, since her life had returned to some kind of normalcy—by which he meant she was no longer a wanted criminal. She was still insanely rich, anti social, and interesting as ever.
Despite her interest, he knew his mother would not approve. When he came home for holiday dinners, he still told everyone he was single. Lisbeth didn't care. He didn't see her as the familial type. And his family would be appalled at his choice of women for sure. You're dating that Lisbeth Salander? The lesbian satanist murderer woman?
He was in his early thirties. He supposed he had time to wait, and see what Lisbeth's intentions were. If she had it worked out at all. But he was pretty sure he wanted a family some day, and would be happy to have it with Lisbeth, assuming she was on board. But he had to admit that seemed unlikely.
He tried not to think about the future, and drifted to sleep.
m m m
In the morning, he showered and put on fresh clothes.
She awoke to to him packing his overnight bag, in preparation to leave. She looked at him for a moment. "Stay for breakfast."
"Can't." He replied simply. "Have to get back to Sahlgrenska for my shift."
She didn't argue, just dressed in her usual simple style and met him at the door. "I'll meet in you in Goteborg next weekend."
"Good." He said, with a soft smile. He turned to cross the threshold.
"Anders." She called to him with his first name. He turned immediately.
"I really like you too."
It was quite possibly the most unexpected answer he could think of, but he kept his head and immediately leaned down to kiss her. She didn't shy away, but met him on her tiptoes.
Naturally, he was late for work that day.