3. Kurt and Katarina

A/N: This part has been a long time coming, but real life has an annoying habit of getting in the way... Hopefully the next update won't take me so long! :)

What he really wanted was to find a way of reading her mind. He never seemed to know what it was she wanted. Her moods were a cryptic clue that he had as yet been unable to solve.

As he paced the corridor towards her office he wondered what he was going to find in there today – a friend or a coolly efficient public prosecutor?

Last week it had seemed like she couldn't get enough of his company. They had strolled on the beach together, with Jussi bounding in and out of the waves, splashing the icy water all over them. They had celebrated the resolution of a particularly trying case with a family dinner at her house, and even her kids had been in good form that day. They had relaxed over a bottle of wine and some scratchy jazz records at his house. He had felt closer to her than he had to anyone in a long time; his usual nagging loneliness had faded clean away.

This week it was as if she had had a personality transplant. She was keeping him at arm's length, he could tell. He wished he knew why. He wished she would tell him what she was thinking instead of presenting him with a locked door, a blank face.

Reaching her office, he sighed wearily and knocked on the door.

Katarina sat at her desk, staring out the window at the ferries in the harbour. She had not moved a muscle for the last ten minutes. She was so deep in thought that even the loud struggle out in the corridor as Svartman and Grönqvist dragged a suspect to the cells failed to register in her consciousness.

Kurt was being so unreasonable. Maybe he did believe he was right, and probably he was right, but surely even he could see when he was on shaky legal ground with a suspect? Why couldn't he put himself in her place for once? She would be the one who had to make it stand up in court, after all.

The thought made her angry. She slammed her desk drawer shut and as she gathered her files together she pondered what she was going to do with him. He seemed to think their friendship gave him carte blanche to do whatever the hell he liked. Well she was the prosecutor, and it was obvious she was going to have to lay some ground rules.

Glancing at her watch she realised she was running late. Elias had football practice and Hanna needed to be picked up from her friend's house. She swore, grabbed her keys and bolted for the door. Now, on top of everything else he had made her late.

Without a word to Kurt, who passed her in the corridor as she went, she hurried out of the building to her car.

It had rained overnight. Wallander trudged along the soggy beach with Jussi bounding along in front of him. The dog was excited to be out of the house, and it was all Wallander could do to keep him out of the sea. The last thing he wanted today was to have to give him a bath.

In the distance he could see someone coming, kicking a ball as he went. As he got closer he realised it was Elias, slouching along with his hands in his pockets. The boy looked gloomier than usual.

"Hi!" said Wallander.

Elias looked up, startled. When he saw who it was he gave a reluctant nod.

"Oh, it's you," he mumbled. Wallander supposed it was the closest thing to a greeting that he was going to get from him today.

"What's wrong?"

Elias sniffed and shrugged his shoulders, which were already around his ears.

"I had a fight with Mum," he said eventually. "I wish she'd stop treating Hanna and me like babies. We're old enough to look after ourselves now."

"I'm sure she worries about you. You two are all she has, after all." It was hard to keep the note of regret out of his voice. Elias gave him a suspicious look, then appeared to relax.

"Look," he said, haltingly. "Can you talk to her? Please? She might listen to you. She likes you."

Wallander smiled.

"I'll see what I can do." He patted Elias on the shoulder. "Go on, practise your football. I heard you got into the first team."

Elias grunted and wandered away with his ball. Wallander called Jussi to heel and made for Katarina's house, wondering once again what mood he would find her in.

Katarina was sitting on the deck in front of the house, smoking. She had seen Elias and Wallander's conversation, how they reacted to each other, and suddenly her attitude softened. She smiled as Wallander made his way up the garden. She had spent so long thinking about the ground rules she was going to lay down that she hadn't expected to feel so glad to see him, but to hell with ground rules. Right now she needed some moral support, and Elias needed a friend.

"I don't know what to do with him when he's like this," she sighed.

"He'll get over it sooner or later. I remember when Linda was his age." Wallander sank into the chair beside her.

Katarina glanced at him.

"You don't speak about Linda very often," she said.

"No."

They gazed out to sea.

"Kurt?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry if I've been short with you this week."

"I suppose you've had a lot of things to worry about."

"Yes, I suppose so. You do realise, Kurt, that when we're at work we need to keep some professional boundaries?"

He gave a non-committal grunt in reply.

"But Kurt? I'm glad you came round today."

He smiled gently at her. It was as if the sun had come out all of a sudden.

"Shall we go for a stroll?" he suggested, gesturing toward the beach.

"Yes, why not?"

For a while they forgot about being a policeman and a prosecutor. For a while, strolling alone on the beach together, they were just Kurt and Katarina, two friends.