It's so nice to see all of you liking this little story! I'm sorry I haven't been posting much but please know this made me super happy to see all of you again!

<3

The Detective and the Dessert

The cadet held the box gingerly in his hands. He looked down at the huge slice of colorful cheesecake topped with a mountain of sprinkles and he furrowed his brows.

It was the 5th day in a row.

They were always different, always elaborate. Once it had been a slice of pie, once a piece of coffee cake, once a cinnamon roll cake, and once a chocolate cake that was so large it needed to be in 2 boxes taped together.

It was the cadets last work day for the week and he wondered as he brought the colorful box to the detective's office if there would be another one tomorrow. It was eating away at him a little bit. He almost volunteered for an extra shift just to be here so he would see if another one came.

He needed to do his studies.

BUT HOW COULD HE STUDY WHEN THIS DETECTIVE KEPT GETTING SWEETS DELIVERED!!!

And they had to be from someone he knew, and someone that Ebba knew, because Ebba would never have accepted them if they weren't. There was a very strict policy about gifts for officers and detectives.

So as he got the detective's door, he took a deep breath, screwing up the courage to ask him who they were from.

But his courage left him as soon as he saw the blond man's stoic face.

Detective Martinsson was very serious, and extremely private. He was not going to share any information with a cadet whose name he didn't even know.

There were rumors that he had a girlfriend and a few of the cadets had seen a fashionable blonde woman picking him up one day, but they had to be just rumors. Detective Martinsson was a workaholic, a man married to his job, there was no way he would have time to find a hot girlfriend...

"Just put it on the desk," Martinsson said without looking up.

The cadet froze, looking between the detective and the dessert.

Martinsson looked up from his computer, his eyebrows raised.

"Is there a problem?" he asked in his most authoritative voice, which, in spite of the way he was in his personal life, was very convincing.

"N-no, sir, no. I just- I was just wondering..."

Martinsson shot the cadet a warning look.

"Right, sure, of course..." the cadet stammered.

"On the desk."

The cadet slunk into the office, making himself as small as he possibly could. He placed the plastic box on the desk and backed out of the room.

"Have a nice evening...d-do you have any shifts this weekend?" the cadet asked awkwardly.

Detective Martinsson kept his eyes on the younger man. He wasn't that much younger, maybe 5 or 6 years, but he seemed like a child to Magnus.

"No, this is my last shift for the week."

The cadet shifted on his feet.

"Ja, me too. I'm going to be doing some school work, I have an exam coming up and I was hoping to go out for a few beers with my friends..."

Detective Martinsson crossed his arms across his chest and leaned forward on the desk, his eyes firmly on the nervous cadet.

When the cadet stopped talking, Magnus forced a smile.

"Well, good luck with that. I don't miss those days, work and school and attempting to have a social life. It's a pain in the ass."

The cadet laughed a little too loudly and then took a step back, his arms flailing. Detective Martinsson was not going to be giving out any information today.

"Try to get some rest too," Magnus said and then he went back to his computer, dismissing the younger man in a more polite way that he probably deserved.

But Magnus just needed the cadet to leave because he was so weary from having to NOT smile at the 5th dessert, for the 5th day in a row, and he just wanted to call her and smile at her through the phone and plan their weekend, just the two of them.

The cadet nodded and looked down.

"Ja, you-you too," he said as he turned and hurried away from the detective's office, defeated.

Magnus stood up and dialed his phone as he closed the door to his office. He perched on the edge of his desk, facing away from the door, his long legs spread wide apart.

"Hej," he paused, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Thank you for the dessert, but I don't think I'll be needing it tonight."

"Are you sure about that?," the woman's voice came through the phone.

Magnus chuckled and crossed his arm over his chest.

"I am very sure, Ms. Lindahl. Very, very sure."

There was hushed laughter and whispered words and a promise to pick him up as soon as his shift was over.

And that evening, when the cadet was leaving for the week, he caught sight of Detective Martinsson grabbing a blonde woman and lifting her off her feet in a embrace. The cadet looked away as the Detective lifted his hands to the woman's face and held it as he kissed her deeply.

"Hmmm, the cadet whispered to himself as he got to his car.

And when he looked back, Detective Martinsson had picked up the woman and she was holding onto him and her laugh was tinkling off the precinct, and for the first time, the cadet thought he heard The Stoic Detective Martinsson laugh along with her.

"Still sweeter than all those desserts!" the detective said as he whisked her to her car.

Hello!

Welcome to all the new friends who are visiting the page!  I have so many stories, both about a fictional Tom and his character Magnus Martinsson!  If you check my Masterlist of Stories (over in the sidebar), you may find something you like!

Thank you to the lovely just-the-hiddles for the rec.

You can also find current stories about Magnus Martinsson and his (non canon) love, Rebecka Lindahl, written and updated daily at detektivmartinsson and rebeckalindahl!  We write long fics and drabbles about Magnus and Rebecka in every possible situation and time!!

Happy reading!!

<3

Midsommar Missed

A/N-  This is just a little pre Magnus and Rebecka drabble because I always have a lot of feelings around midsommar.  It’s part of why they got married on midsommar too!  Enjoy and Glad Midsommar!

Rebecka held her phone at her ear, her index finger at her lips as she chewed on her poor defenseless cuticle.  She knew she shouldn’t have even answered the phone.

“Why didn’t you come? You said you would try to make it and I told Mama you were lying…she always believes you but I know you better Becka…” Kristina chastised.

Rebecka inhaled a slow deep breath as she bit a little too close to the quick of her nail and she pulled her sore finger out of her mouth.

“I did try.  It’s just…work…” Rebecka began, but her sister would let her finish.

“It’s always work with you Becka.”

Stina spent the next 3 minutes telling her sister off, but it didn’t matter to Rebecka.  Stina couldn’t possibly make her feel any worse than she already did.

“You’re alone and it’s your fault.  You could be here!  You could be drunk and dancing and…you could be here, but you are stuck in Stockholm with all the other losers who wouldn’t get out of town.”

Rebecka held her breath. Her sister could be cruel, but she did love her, she just didn’t understand her very well.  They were too different

“Whatever.  I mean, you could still drive out here and be her by 7…”

Silence on the phone.

“But you won’t. Whatever Rebecka.  Alone.  That’s what you are.  That’s the choice you make. Live with it.”

And Stina hung up the phone.

Rebecka finally let out a sigh and she swallowed hard.

Her sister could be cruel.

But she was right, in a small way.

Rebecka was alone.  It was a choice.  She chose work, over everything, over Lukas, over her family, over friends. Over everything.

She could feel the tears sting her eyes as she got off her bed and finished getting dressed.

The streets were empty, eerily empty on Midsommar morning.  She had time to get breakfast, there was no one in the café but for the few people working.  On her way to the office she passed a flower shop and she stopped in to buy flowers to make a flower crown.

She overlooked the ready made flower crowns, it seemed just too sad to not even make her own flower crown on the first Midsommar she was alone.

The florist was kind and helped her pick out flowers in purples and whites and pinks, and a white daisy with a bright yellow center.

“It looks like the sun,” Rebecka smiled at the florist.  The florist chuckled and looked out the window at the clouds that seemed to be gathering quickly.

“The first downpour of the day is on it’s way,” the florist said.

Rebecka looked out the window and a small bunch of wild flowers caught her eye.

“What are these?” she asked as she walked and picked up the small bunch of flowers.  They were very unassuming, but pretty in their plainness.

“Those are twinflowers and wood crane’s bill, and common valerian, just weeds really.”

Rebecka held the flowers in her hand and she felt tears come to her eyes again.  She had made bouquets like the bunch in her hand many times over the years.  There were many midsommar’s where she was young and carefree and making flower crowns and eating strawberry cake and dancing with her family.  Her father would always bar b que and she loved to watch him cook and listen to him talk about how he wished he could do more cooking at home.

But perhaps those days were over.  She wasn’t as young as she used to be, she had just graduated from University.  She wasn’t carefree anymore, and she hardly ever got to stand with her father and watch him bar b que and listen to him talk about how delicious the meat was going to be.

“You can have them, they suit you,” the florist said kindly when she saw the tears in her eyes.  “Put them under your pillow tonight with a few flowers from your crown.  Seven, you need seven kinds of flowers, and maybe you will dream of the person you will marry,” she said brightly.

Rebecka only smiled sadly.

“I think it takes a little more than flowers under your pillow to meet the person you will marry. I think…” she shook her head, “ maybe going on dates might be more helpful.”

Rebecka chuckled and cleared the sadness from her eyes.

It was her choice, it was always her choice.

“I don’t know, dates can be with the wrong one sometimes.  Maybe if you dream of them, you will move in their direction,” the florist said as she wrapped the flowers in newsprint and handed them to Rebecka.  Rebecka tucked the small bouquet of wildflowers into the paper cone and paid the woman.

“Glad Midsommar,” she said as she paid the woman and walked out of the shop.

At the office, she and an intern made themselves flower crowns on their lunch break.  She felt better wearing the wreath of flowers, even if she was stuck at work.

It poured on her on her way home, but the streets were even more empty than they had been in the morning.

“Midsommar Eve,” she said to herself as she grabbed a quick dinner at the market.  There was one slice of strawberry cake left in the bakery case.  It was a little worse for wear, but Rebecka bought it anyway.

Her father sent her a picture of his kebobs, and Rebecka had to fight not to cry as she sat in her empty apartment.  The city was silent and strange, but it was such a lovely evening, Rebecka left the window open.

She worked for a few more hours, finishing up a story she had been working on all week, and then she was showering and heading to bed.

But before she went to bed she took out a few flowers from her flower crown and the wild flowers the florist had given her.  It seemed stupid, and she looked at the flowers for a long time before she picked out seven to put under her pillow.

A twinflower, wood crane’s bill, common valerian, a red poppy, a buttercup, chamomile, and a forget me not.

She placed them under her pillow, the pink, the purple, the white, yellow and red and the blue of the forget me not, so deep and cool, like the still surface of a lake in winter.

She made a small face as she covered up the flowers and she lay down, closing her eyes, weary from the day, even though it hadn’t been particularly strenuous.  

She should have been in the countryside with her family eating and laughing.  She should have been dancing with her sister and smiling at the men she would try to hook Rebecka up with.  They were never the right sort of man for Rebecka, but at least her sister was trying.

Rebecka fell asleep with a small tear at the corner of her eye.

But she dreamed of a man, somewhere by a lake, and though she couldn’t see his face, she could see his blond curls as they sprang at the nape of his neck.  She could almost feel them curl around her finger as she reached out and freed them from the collar of his blue and white striped dress shirt. And she was warm, so very warm with him near her.

Rebecka woke with the early midsommar sun bathing her in it’s golden warmth.

He was out there, at least she hoped he was out there, the one who she was looking for. She just hadn’t found him yet.

But it was a choice, and Rebecka made hers.

She called into work and took the day off and she drove to where her parents and her sister were staying in the country.  She had missed Midsommar, but she wouldn’t miss it again.

“I’m sorry I called you a loser,” her sister said as she hugged her.  “ You’re not a loser, I’m just mean and bitter,” she joked.  Rebecka laughed.  “You missed all the hot men last night,” Stina whispered to her sister.

Rebecka only smiled.

“Not all the hot men. I had a pretty good dream last night.”

Stina gasped and locked her arm with her sisters.

“Tell me everything…”

But Rebecka only smiled.

“No, you tell me about the hot men I missed,” she whispered as her sister handed her a coffee.