All your fandoms are belong to us! Watched BBC's Wallander and ever since, Wallander and Martinsson have been jibing back and forth in my head. Had to get his out...

Disclaimer: Mankell, and the BBC and Branagh have all the rights and profit. I have... kind of a sore knee from sitting like that while I typed this.



Tap. Tap-tap. Taptaptap. Click. Click. Double click. Muttering...

It was by now becoming an annoyingly familiar pattern and Kurt Wallander shot the blonde detective sitting across the office from him a pointed glare. But Martinsson was so absorbed in his damn computer that he didn't notice.

It had been a slow month. Last month, in contrast was an absolute maelstrom. It seemed everyone in Ystad had gotten together and made a pact to commit crimes in February. But March? March was slow, resulting in two things he was growing to resent: 1) the never-ending back-log of paperwork and 2) renovations at the station, which among other things, meant sharing closer quarters than he'd like with Martinsson.

Normally, he got on fine with the young detective.


When he was in a patient mood...

Over the past two weeks however, the young man seemed to have perfected his talents in annoying his senior officer. A normal, occupied Martinsson, was plenty sarcastic and peevish, but a bored Magnus Martinsson, he'd discovered, made that look like a charming alternative. In February, the month that hadn't distinguished itself with an utter lack of any interesting cases, the station's youngest detective had fractured and sprained his right wrist when a suspect twice his lanky size had tackled him. The injury had pretty much chained him to a desk since he couldn't be out in the field if he couldn't use his gun, and no one had been in favour of letting Martinsson test the theory that he could probably shoot just as well with his left after a little practice. So Lisa had tasked him with digitalizing all of their older records that hadn't yet made it into the system, and Kurt had had the joy and pleasure of sitting across from Martinsson while he suffered from cabin fever and attempted to type one handed.

Personally, he didn't see the unimaginable suffering of having to type with only one hand. He'd been writing reports since they were all done up on type writers and he'd always more or less typed with one hand. It suited his typing speed better anyway. He felt a certain fond nostalgia for the days of those stupid clacking gargantuan type writers. You typed out your report and held it in your hand and then it got filed in an actual physical filing cabinet. There was no danger like with the computer, of pressing one wrong button and then losing an entire afternoon's work-

Much like now. Wallander blinked at the blank page in front of him and frowned.

"It's gone again," he announced wearily to his office mate, who barely looked up from his battles with designing the digital archive.

"Did you happen to press the delete button?" Martinsson finally asked non-plussed.

"No. I just clicked 'file' and the whole bloody thing vanished."

The tapping of keys paused for a moment, "Did you click 'file' or 'case file'?"


Magnus sighed, "There are two buttons in the top right corner: 'file' and 'case file.'"

"I only see 'file."

"Are you looking at your screen?" the young detective asked incredulously.

"Where the hell else would I be looking?" Wallander growled.

"Well it's fairly obvious-"

"Obviously it isn't!"

"It's nice to see the two of you getting on so well."

At that they both turned to find Holgersson watching them with a faint smirk of amusement.

"How is our new archive system coming?" she asked Martinsson, changing the subject before either detective could answer her.

"Wonderfully," Magnus deadpanned, sparing his bandaged wrist a resentful look.

She met Kurt's gaze, who shrugged, and glanced back, with no less resentment, at the blanked screen in front of him.

"I got a call..."

Wallander practically leapt out of his chair. No words had ever sounded so potentially like music to his ears, and he noticed, even Magnus perk up at the possibility of some action.

"It's fairly routine... a missing teenager who has a history of running off for days without telling his parents where he's gone off to. I was going to send a couple of officers over to talk to the parents but..."

The evils of technology already forgotten, Wallander had already grabbed his jacket, "I'll go. It could be something."

For his part, Martinsson sighed and resumed his single-handed typing.

"Magnus?" Holgersson crossed her arms and waited expectantly, until the young detective looked up at her. "Why don't you go with him?"

For a moment he seemed torn between jumping at the chance, and maintaining his cool disdain which clearly said this call was obviously too routine to need the attention of two detectives.

"What about the archive?"

Lisa shrugged, "The old system will be fine for another couple of days at least."

"The old system is a cardboard box," Magnus pointed out.

"Do you want to get out of here for a few hours or not?"

Without any further hesitation, the young detective grabbed his own coat. "Yeah. Absolutely."

Oh good, Kurt thought wryly, company.

Thanks for reading! R&R if that's your thing. I always appreciate it