Prompt by Anonymous
A/N - No personal hate towards Islamic countries if it comes off that way?
"Hey. Can I come over?"
She paused with her hurried packing, holding a pair of trousers in midair for inspection. Nope. Too tight. "You know normally you just fuck my doorbell senseless and skip the calling all together." She tossed the trousers into a growing heap on the floor. Damn Islamic countries and their conservative dress.
"Interesting choice of words, but yes. I suppose I do," he said, "I don't know though. Today I just had a feeling I should call first."
"Good feeling," she said absently, throwing more clothing on the floor. She really needed Mimmi's fashion guidance the next time she went out shopping. The Middle East was going to suck in all black and ridiculously baggy clothing. "Can you call back in a few days? I need to hop a plane in a bit."
"Off to the Netherlands again?"
Lisbeth yanked a black sweater off its hanger a little more forcefully than necessary at his comment. "That is not funny."
"You walked into the jail completely stoned and no one noticed. It was pretty fucking hilarious from my point of view."
"Some people did actually notice," She said as she threw the phone onto the bed, speakerphone on. She hadn't managed to alter the records soon enough after that. Bye-bye Edklinth ID. Blomkvist continued to snigger on the other side of the phone. "I'll repeat: not funny."
"Right." Lisbeth thought he could do a better job at sounding sincere, but what the fuck. She didn't have the time to tell him otherwise.
"Done bugging me yet?"
"Hang on; you still haven't told me where you're going."
"Gaza."
"What?"
"Do I need to say it again for it to sink in?"
"Yes! No!" She swore she could almost hear him slamming his palm into his face, "Just why in God's name are you going to Gaza?"
Lisbeth figured Mikael lucky. If he were there right now there was no guarantee she wouldn't slap him. "I'm going to go sit on a beach and contemplate life."
"You're joking."
"Of course I am," she snapped, "I have work-"
"Every time you say you're going somewhere for 'work-'"
"I don't just pull it out of my ass. I'm dead fucking serious."
"Let me finish, Pippi!" She shot a glare at the phone at the use of his favorite pet name for her. One day she would make his pay for the day he got that particular bright idea. Maybe she could rig another dye bomb to his front door on her way over to Bromma. She checked the time on her phone. Nope. No time for revenge now.
"Lisbeth, every time you say you're going somewhere on 'work' business, I don't hear from you for days, even weeks. Then when you come back and I finally weasel where the hell you've been out of you, I find you've gone somewhere that's either right in the middle of a civil war or just about to start one. Ever single time you're gone I think that maybe I'll wake up in the morning and see a news bulletin that something's happened to you. It's maddening!"
"I'm not going to die, Kalle. You can shoot me three times and bury me alive and still not get the job done. Get checked out for PTSD while I'm gone if it bothers you so much."
"Fuck Lisbeth! This isn't a fucking joke! I care! I really do!"
"I never made it out to be a fucking joke! Now kindly fuck off while I finish packing!"
She sent her toiletries bag hurtling across the bedroom floor as she hung up.
Sometime early the next morning, a silent text lit up Blomkvist's phone.
Stop worrying Kalle. Back tomorrow night.