Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the plot.


Smoke curls from around her thin lips as Lisbeth pulls the cigarette away. She cradles it in between the 'v' she makes with her index and middle finger. She leans her arm on the small table beside her, not wanting the putrid smoke to invade her face. She waits for a couple seconds before flicking off the ashes that had accumulated and lifts the stick back up to her mouth. She slips it in between her lips before looking around, humming.

Various items are on the table beside her. She reaches out and glides her fingertips along these objects, disregarding all of them as she passes them. She shakes her head, pulling her hand back. She rests it on her hip, curling her fingers against the dip the bone makes. She stays there for several seconds, contemplating her plan.

Lisbeth soon hears stirring in the bedroom, and she turns her head slightly, seeing the older man move around in her peripheral vision. She purses her lips and pulls the cigarette from her lips. "No," she hisses, turning around to stare at the other. "Stay.

The man stays still, looking ahead at the wall before letting out a low sigh and falling back onto the bed with a grunt. He closes his eyes, raising up his hands and rubbing his face. Lisbeth studies the soon limp figure before turning around. She turns to her instruments again before shaking her head. She examines the charred remains of the cigarette before reaching out, stubbing it out in the ashtray. She wipes a hand on her shirt before reaching out this time and retrieving a bottle of ink and her tattooing machine.

She pulls it up to eye-level, studying it carefully. It had been a while since she had used this, but drastic times call for drastic measures. She smirks a bit and turns around, making her way into the bedroom. Lisbeth watches the man on the bed, who's now softly breathing. She watches his chest rise up and fall down before walking over to the bed, reaching over and grabbing a pillow. She tosses it on the other's stomach before twisting around, plugging in the tattoo gun. She turns it on and watches the needlepoint begin to buzz. Her tongue finds its spot in between her lips as she dips the needle into the ink and goes back to the man. She crawls on the bed and crouches down, pressing her elbows against the pillow. She leans over, hovering the needle above the virgin skin on his chest. Lisbeth glances at the other before moving around, adjusting her position.

"Ready, Kalle?"

He raises up his head, looking down at her. He laughs a bit before leaning back, shaking his head. "Do I have much of a choice?"

"Hmm."

And, without a second thought, Lisbeth presses the needle against his chest, watching as the black ink is injected under the skin.

Several long minutes of protest and detest follows the first injection. But with much to Mikael's displeasure, Lisbeth continues with the at-home tattoo. Every once in a while, she presses her forearm against his shoulders, making him stay still. "If you move, this could go horribly wrong," she reminds him, shooting him an icy glare. Mikael rests his head and looks up at the ceiling, closing his eyes and muttering obscenities underneath his breath.

When she is satisfied, Lisbeth raises up and studies the now-finished tattoo. Five sets of eight numbers look up at her. The corners of her lips curl into a rare smile. She slides off of the bed and walks over to her packet of cigarettes. She sets the tattoo gun down and fishes out a cigarette. She places it in between her index and middle finger before lighting it. She takes a long drag before sitting down. She glances at the other, who tries to sit up and look down.

"You shouldn't move around a lot. It might hurt." Mikael winces and lets out a hiss as he falls back on the bed, closing his eyes. Lisbeth purses her lips and shakes her head. She taps off ashes, watching them fall onto the floor.

"What does it mean?"

She softly smiles and lifts up her cigarette. "Pippi." She places it in her mouth, looking over at him.

Mikael thinks for a moment before letting out a small laugh. "Astrid fucking Lindgren."

"Astrid fucking Lindgren."


01010000 01101001 01110000 01110000 01101001 – Pippi