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I'm Your Shield	By : HobNobsAndTea Category: S through Z > Wallander (UK) > Wallander (UK) Views: 1069 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Neither I, nor any of the writers own any of the characters or story lines of this story. All rights belong to the writers and producers of "Wallander" . We recieve no money for writting this story, only the enjoyment of writing it

Chapter List
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(“Hob Nobs and Tea” A facebook Round Robin group dedicated to Tom Hiddleston and the characters he plays. Everyone is welcome! If you’d like to join us, just come on by and click the join button and we’ll approve you right away! Because there is adult content, it is a closed 18+ group.)
“Hob Nobs and Tea”: https://www.facebook.com/groups/795876723809511
Written By: Jade Hagedorn, Marian K. Welty (TheBlackadder)
The Scenario:

            Every Tuesday afternoon Detective Magnus Martinsson comes to the shooting range to fire a few hundred rounds at targets practicing his aim. You’ve been coming to the same Shooting Range for weeks having just graduated from the police academy and were transferred to the station where Magnus is stationed. Around this time of day it’s only just the two of you on the range.
            You can’t help but admire and be a little jealous at his dead on aim with every shot, it seemed as though he always hit the target dead center at the heart or at the head. You aren’t a terrible shot yourself, but you become more and more frustrated that you can’t hit the target as accurately as Detective Martinsson.
            Without your knowing it, Magnus has noticed you as well since the day you first arrived at the station. He’d been watching your progress on the range but had yet to introduce himself. Seeing that you’re struggling with your shooting, he finally decides that if you wanted them he had a few tips to help you.
            The standard police issue 9mm Walther kicks. You feel the recoil down into your forearms and that fucking barrel tips up again. You growl in frustration and slam the handgun down. You jerk the ear protection and the shooting glasses off and drop them disgustedly on top of the gun. You place your hands on your hips and turn away. Taking deep breaths to calm yourself, turning away from the stand.
            “You’re anticipating the recoil.” You turn seeing Detective Martinsson standing next to the station divider. He smiles a little seeing the embarrassed look on your face, “It makes you jerk the gun before the shot is fired.”

            You turn picking up your gun looking at it never having realized or guessed that was what you were doing. It was still loaded so you were careful to keep the barrel pointing down the range away from you and Magnus. “I’m holding it the way they taught us in the academy.”

            “That may be, but sometimes you have to adjust it for you personally. Here.” He takes the gun motioning for you to put your protective gear back on. You put on the ear muffs back on and your glasses. “Now, fire your gun like you normally fire it.” He says handing you back the handgun.

            Oh this was humiliating. You turn towards the target taking aim and firing the weapon. You hit the figure on the target but had it been a real person it would have been a graze at best.

            “Did you feel it?” He says, “The way the muzzle jerked?” You give a nod looking at your hands. “Try holding it this way.” He moves your left hand to cup the bottom of your right, and wraps your index finger around the trigger guard. “Now, hold it steady.” He stands behind you wrapping his arms around you covering your hands with his on the gun. “Aim. And fire.” He pulls the trigger and you hit dead center of the head target. He smiles releasing you. “Try it again.” He says standing back crossing his arms.

            Remembering his advice you take aim at the heart marking on the target and fire hitting it dead center as well. “Oh my god.” You say looking at the gun in your hand, “That seems . . . that seems so easy.” You aim and fire hitting dead center again. You can’t help but grin. “How did you know how to do that?”

            “I had the same problem when I first came out of the academy. Because of the recoil of these models you develop the bad habit of anticipating the kick back and it screws with your aim.” He explains.
            You empty the mag into the target sheet, steadily moving between the heart and the head every few shots.

            You take off the protective gear. Turning to him, you can't hide the pride from your smile. "Thank you. That was unbelievably frustrating." You remove the protective gear. "Can I buy you lunch to say thank you?"
            "Oh that's not necessary. I just wanted to help."
            “Well, thank you." You tuck your hair behind your ear and turn back to the stand. You crouch down to pick up your brass. You keep glancing over at Magnus as he continues shooting.

He was one of the few who hadn't given you shit for being a female cop. You hang up the ear protection after cleaning it, tucking the shooting glasses on your collar. Casting one final glance over your shoulder, he happens to look your way. You smile then exit the range.
            "I saw that."
            "What?"
            Your friend Becky nudges you. "I saw you flirt with Martinsson."
            Your cheeks tinge pink. "A smile does not dictate flirting."
            "Okay. Whatever." Becky links her arm with yours. "Take me to lunch. I have to tell you about my new partner."
            Sitting at the local fast food dive you and Becky eat your lunch. “So how’s things on your side of the precinct?”

            “Not too bad.” You said with a sigh. “Frustrating sometimes. Sort of a tight nit group that works together, and being the new kid on the block is always basically making yourself cannon fodder wherever you go.”

            “Giving you crap about being a female cop?” Becky says taking a drink of her lemonade. “That’s not new babe. No matter how much they say it, it’s not going to go away either. Human nature.”

            You smile a little, “Detective Martinsson doesn’t do that stuff.”

            “Of course he doesn’t, he’s the low man on that totem pole. Be like a Freshman picking on another Freshman.” She says.

            “What do you mean? He’s one of the detectives? Isn’t he?” You question.

            “Yeah, sort of. But Wallander is the Senior Detective and unless he gets shot in the head or quits Martinsson isn’t going to move anywhere.” You frown looking at her. She knew better then to talk about fellow police officers like that. Even if they were annoying, or moody, or massive drama queens. “Sorry.”

            “So what’s this about your new partner? Good? Bad? Babysitting?” You ask taking a bite of your hamburger.
            "Girl, he's a year away from retirement. We sit in the squad car and watch traffic lights."

She takes a bite of her burger. "I haven't made a collar in two months. I've heard more stories about his grandkids and his heyday than from my grandparents. "
            "Giving you shit for being a woman though?"
            "No. But it's boring as shit."
            "How's tricks?" You mop up ketchup with your fries.
            "Fucking nothing. Since Gavin left. And fuck him. You?"
            "Nothing either." But Martinsson had the kind of curls you wanted to pull.

            You adjusted your purse over your shoulder. Your gaze flicks to Magnus's empty desk. You bite your bottom lip. Thankfully he wasn't there. You'd have made a stupid mistake of asking out another cop. In the squad room. Now to head home and feed your fish. At least you didn't have a cat. That might make the whole situation a lot depressing.
            Friday afternoons you had hand to hand combat training at the gym. You absolutely hated it for two reasons. One was that you had to wear very unflattering and hot sweat clothes. Two because you were apparently stronger then you looked and managed to hurt people without meaning to being overly enthusiastic and good at it.

            You, Becky and others were sitting on the mats listening to the instructor explain something or other that you already knew.

            “On your feet officer.” You frown seeing the instructor was indicating you.

            “Oh come on, I went last week.” You pointed to Becky who wrinkles her nose at you.

            “Front and center.” Your head drops back before you drag yourself reluctantly up off the floor and walk over next to the instructor. “Now, the pressure points you want to hit, are here and here.” You hold your arms out as he points at them on you. “Also if you hit here, here, or here, your opponent will lose their center of balance and fall to the floor giving you the advantage.”

            “Or you could just hit them with your taser or shoot them in the knee.” You mumble under your breath. The others sitting around on the floor giggle and snicker.

            “What was that officer?” The instructor says.

            You paint on a forced smile, “You’re absolutely right sir.”

            “Good. Then why don’t we have you pair up and demonstrate today’s lesson?” You roll your eyes and throw up your hands looking at the group wondering who this week’s poor shmuck was. However, rather than one of your fellow classmates getting up your suddenly grabbed from behind with an arm around your neck and another around your middle.

            “HEY!” You yell reaching up and grabbing the arm that was strangling you. This one was strong, much stronger then you were used to. You were lifted off the floor and your feet kicked in the air as your breathing is being cut off at your throat. You grit your teeth and press your thumb into the pressure point on the wrist causing the arm around your throat to loosen and you drop back to the floor on your feet. Instantly you bring your elbow back just under the sternum on the ribcage before stomping on the instep. However you assailants free hand comes up and raps you a good one in the lower back over your kidney.

            It really fucking hurt, “Son of a . . . .” You were starting to get angry now and the instructor started to quickly approach seeing that you were about to lose your temper which is when accidents had happened in the past. You spin around kneeing him in the gut knocking his wind out the rest of the way, before twisting around underneath his arm and flipping him over your back onto the ground, at once dropping your knee to his chest pinning him there getting ready to punch him in the face. You stop cold your eyes going wide starring at Detective Martinsson.
            Magnus takes advantage of your hesitation and grabs your able, pulling your leg out from your under you. He rolls you onto your back. You fight past the surprise to continue the do he's on his back. He does the same but before you can do it, he drops his knees between your legs and presses his forearm into your throat.
            The instructor pulls up short. "Well I think we've found someone who's sheer body mass makes him a decent sparring partner. So." He claps. "Until you can figure out how to beat him despite his greater size, you two will be pairing up."
            Magnus let's you up and sits back on your heels. "Hi again."
            "Hi." You sit up and lean your elbows onto your knees. "You're lucky."
            "Why's that?"
            "I didn't know it was you." He frowns. "If I had, I wouldn't have been surprised. I wouldn't have pulled my punch."
            He shrugs. "But you didn't."
            "Yea, yea." You pop up and start for the showers.
            "Hey, I'm just trying to help." He jumps up and chases after you.
            "Look, I appreciate the advice-"
            "I don't think you do. You're a rookie. And a female. And you're good at your job. That just pisses the good ol' boys club off to no end. So cool the attitude before someone other than me takes you down a peg or two."

            Your wet hair is pulled back in a ponytail. The jeans hug your hips, ass and thighs. The soft jersey tee proclaims you're a top finisher in the annual cadet obstacle race. Becky waves you over to the table with her partner and his son. You drop into the chair.
            The waitress sets your regular bottled beer in front of you "Hi again." You cut your first drink short as you look to the side and inexplicably at Martinsson's crotch. You glance at Becky and raise an eyebrow then look up to his face.
            "Hi."
            "Can I buy you a drink?"
            "I have one." You gesture at him with the beer.
            "Can I buy your next one then?" You shrug.
            "Magnus, old boy, have a seat!" Becky's partner kicks out the chair next to you. Great, just great. He sits down and leans back.
            Magnus orders a drink waving to your beer indicating the server should bring another one. You arch a brow slightly before taking another sip of your beer. “By way of a peace offering.” He says sincerely. “The instructor told me after why you weren’t very happy about being chosen to spar today.”

            “You’d think the lesson would have been learned after the first broken arm.” You say with a sigh.

            “Because you lose your temper. I’ve only sparred with you once and I already can see that.” He says honestly.

            You put your beer down starring at him, “Was I supposed to be happy about that cheap kidney shot?”

            “I barely tapped you.” He unbuttons his sleeve before rolling it up showing you the black and blue bruise you’d left on his arm from hitting the pressure point. “Pretty sure I didn’t leave you wish one of these little beauties on your arm.”

          “Well maybe it’s not a good strategy for demonstrations in class, but it’s probably handy to have out in the field.” You say picking up your beer again.

            “Not always. If you don’t keep a clear head and stay focused someone who’s angrier and more in control then you are is going to get the upper hand.” He warned as the waiter came back putting his drink down in front of him, and placing the full bottle he’d ordered for you next to you.

            “Then we go back to my original observation that it would just be easier to hit them with a taser or shoot them in the knee.” You say seriously. “Doesn’t require getting in close enough for hand to hand combat.” You finish your beer and stare at him for a moment before sighing and picking up the one he’d just gotten you.

            “Fair enough.” He sips from his drink, “As long as you can hit your target.”

            Becky arched a brow as it seemed like Magnus was purposely poking the bear. You would think someone would realize it was best not to do that. “I hit what I shoot at.” You say narrowing your eyes at him.

            “Now you do.” He says looking at you slyly taking another drink. Apparently he had noticed you on the shooting range more than once. You weren’t sure of that until now. Seeing the way you’re glaring at him he sets down his drink leaning forward towards you across the table, “Look. I know it can be hard being fresh out of the academy being thrown head first into the pool. I’m also not unaware how hard it can be when you’re the new one in the precinct. Is it really such a bad thing to have someone whose been there for a couple of years offering you a hand when they can?”

            “I don’t need help. I need people to back off and let me do my job.” You snap. Magnus realized that when he turned you down when you offered to treat him to a meal at the shooting range might have given you the impression he was less then concerned with or interested in you and that he was just another one of the misogynists that had been giving you hell since day one. You down the last of the beer before putting a $10 on the table paying for your drink. “I have to go. Thanks for the beer.” With that you get up and head out.

            Once in the parking lot you sigh and lean against the wall of the building punching it hard enough that it broke the skin on your knuckles causing your hand to bleed. You were beyond frustrated with everything, things weren’t as you expected they would be once you got out of the academy. They teach every one about equality and that officers weren’t male or female they were all the same. But when you got into the force, it seemed like you were taken back to the dark ages. Closing your eyes you rest your head against the wall hitting it again with your bloody hand.
            Becky drops down at your desk. "Hey, killer. Whoa, what'd you do to your hand?" She grabs it and pulls it to her.
            "Hey back off." You jerk your hand back.
            "What did you do?"
            "Nothing."
            "Liar." You glare at each other.
            "Fine. I had a fight with a brick wall."
            "You lost your temper again." You drop your pen in your desk. "Look, hot stuff. Speaking as a fellow vagina, you're being way too hard on Martinsson. He's just trying to help."
            "You said it yourself. He's low man on the totem pole."
            Becky picks at the bandage on your hand. "Maybe I was wrong."
            "No, I think you're right. But I've got reports to file." You left the desk and the papers you'd been working on.
            You want to believe Martinsson actually cares. But honestly, it just feels like another rooster trying to get the hens in line.
            Speaking of the cock, you nearly run into him at the coffee pot. "Hi again."
            "Hi." He sips his coffee and burns his lips.
            "Did you have a nice weekend?"
            "Fabulous." You finish adding the sugar and creamer until it's super light and sweet. You leave before he can continue the conversation.
            Your partner, a typical good ol' boy, hands you your hat. "Let's go. We've done enough paperwork for now." He sees the bandages in your hand. "Hurt yourself in training again?"
            "Nope."
            "Wanna talk about it?"
            "Nope."
            You follow him to the squad car. This was going to be a long shift.
            Sitting in the chief’s office you lean forward covering your face with your hands. Finally the door opens and the chief comes in and you instantly stand. “Look, I can explain what happened . . .”

            “Sit down.” He says sternly tossing the report onto his desk. You fall silent and sit back down. “According to the report, you broke protocols, you didn’t identify yourself, and the man you shot was unarmed!”

            “That isn’t true!” You exclaim. “That isn’t what happened!”

            “Your partner is in the hospital now because of you, and I doubt very much he’ll be returning to work any time soon IF he returns at all.” He leans forward his hands on his desk staring you down. “The one rule that everyone knows and don’t usually need to be taught is that you have your partners back. ALWAYS. You really dropped the ball with it and now we have a shooting on our hands and an officer down.”

            “He wouldn’t let me go with him, he made me stay in the hall to cover him! I told him that was against . . . . this isn’t my fault. If I didn’t get to him when I did then he would have been dead, not just injured! He’d have a broken bottle stuck in his throat!. . . . why don’t . . . why are you accusing me of this?” You ask in disbelief.

            “I don’t want to hear it!” He shouts at you causing you to fall silent again. You can feel a knot in your throat hardly able to breathe or bite back the tears. “Usually, this would result in a suspension if not a flat out dismissal. However, I’m incredibly shorthanded right now. We have officers out on ‘maternity’ leave, we have others out sick, we have still more that are injured and can’t come in. I can’t afford to even suspend you! So guess what, your riding a desk until this can be investigated further. Then we’ll decide where it goes from there.” You start to say something further in your defense but he still doesn’t seem to want to hear a word you have to say, “Dismissed!”

            You clinch your jaw refusing to break down and stand before leaving his office. This was a nightmare. It was your ‘partner’ that didn’t follow protocol, who was the one being reckless. You saved his ass from being carved up into filets and were now being punished for it.

            Becky heard what had happened and tried to catch up with you, “Are you okay? Honey? Talk to me.” She says stepping in front of you to stop your retreat. You didn’t know how long you could keep up this somewhat brave face.

            “Not now, Becky. Just . . . not now. I’m fine okay?” You push past her and retreat to the bathroom at the back of the building. You slam the door closed and pull the lock, leaning against the wall trying to breathe. You cover your mouth with your hand still trying not to let the wave of emotion over take you, but it was too strong and you’d been trying to hold it back all day. You slide down to the floor against the wall your knees pulled up to your chest as you lower your head against them. You saved someone’s life, someone who was being extremely foolish and careless with their own life and yours as well. Yet it seemed no good deed went unpunished as it seemed like it could very well end your career when it had just begun.
            The tears eventually dried up. You splashed water on your face and looked at yourself in the mirror. No one had asked if you were alright but Becky. You had a nice bruise forming on the side of your face. Your lip was cut and your knuckles were bruised and bloody. The blood under your nails belonged to your partner. "Dammit Dax" You tried to scrub his life from under your nails, hissing in frustrated pain. I feel like fucking Lady Macbeth.

            The heavy bag swayed back in your direction. You'd wrapped your knuckles and slipped on a pair of gloves. Five Finger Death Punch was your only company in the gym this late. All the other officers off shift had gone home.
            You pound the bag. Each punch reverberates up your arm. You didn't know you were crying until you couldn't breathe. When you could breathe, the first breath sucked in came out in a scream. Anger, frustration, grief. Why? Why? If Dax didn't make it through the night, your career was pretty much over. No one would partner with you. No one would trust you. The truth would die with him.
            You gulp in air to compose yourself. "Hi again."
            Detective Martinsson stands off to the side of the mat. His hands are wrapped and gloved.
            "Hi."
            "I heard."
            "Everyone's fucking heard. I'm a fucking pariah."
            "I also heard it wasn't your fault."
            "It wasn't but no one wants to listen. Especially the chief."
            You turn back to the bag. He moves around to hold it. You drive your fist into and through the bag. You could punch harder with him holding it.
            "What do you expect? Dax and the chief go way back. They were actually partners briefly before the chief started his rise through the ranks."
            "I'd expect him of all people to want the truth."
            "He's upset. Once Dax makes it through the night, he might be more willing to listen."
            "This fucking sucks." He doesn't respond.
            "Come on. Onto the mat." He grabs your elbow and drags you to the hand-to-hand area. He wastes no time, twisting your arm behind your back. He avoids your elbow and your attempt at a head butt. He cranks your arm but you bite back your cry. You hook your foot behind his ankle. You both fall, landing on his back.
            Twisting your grip, you take hold of his wrist and pull him into an arm bar. He taps.
            "Why'd you give up?"
            "That's my shooting arm." You understand not wanting to risk injury to your gun hand on a spar.

            That was just what you needed. Magnus sat across the table with a matching bruise. You'd gotten him with an elbow in one of your spars. The waitress brings your beers and takes your order. At Magnus's suggestion, you'd foregone the usual local cop bar. Opting for an all night dinner instead.
            "Don't take this the wrong way but why are you doing this?"
            He swallows and sets he bottle down.
            "You're a good cop. A bit hot headed and egotistical but good." You frown but appreciate his honesty.
            “I have anger management issues.” You admit taking a drink of your beer. It was hard finding how attractive he was to you. Something about his curly blonde hair, and his bright eyed intelligence that seemed to shine as he always made eye contact whenever he spoke. When the two of you would spar, there was definitely arousal on both sides. “At least that’s what they told me in the academy when they made me attend the classes.”

            “That’s pretty obvious when we spar darling. You lose your temper and end up hurting people when you don’t mean too.” You sigh putting down your beer. He can see that even talking about that agitated you and he didn’t want you to take off again like you did the other day. Magnus was painfully attracted to you as well, finding you incredibly beautiful and very intriguing. But given the situation, it wasn’t really a dating scenario. “Everyone gets angry and anyone who says they’ve never lost their temper is a liar. But in our line of work, you have to learn how to control it better. Find a healthier outlet.”

            “I can keep it in check, I’m a grownup I have that ability. The only time I really get upset is when someone takes cheap shots during practice.” You still hadn’t forgotten the kidney shot he hit you with that set you off.

            “But all of these instances go into your records. Then when things that happen to all of us sooner or later in the line of duty, like your having to discharge your weapon at an assailant, can be used against you.” He cautions.

            You shake your head, “No one is crying over the murdering junkie that was using a broken glass bottle to carve up my partner. They’re all upset about Dax, and his getting hurt wasn’t even my fault.”

            “Maybe, maybe not. But the media is always looking and waiting for us to screw up so they can smear our image just a little more this week then they did last week. If they decide they want to crucify someone, you’ve already been chosen as the scapegoat.” Magnus explains.

            Okay, now whatever calm you had found from throwing down with him earlier was now leaving.

            “I didn’t do anything wrong. I saved his life!” You exclaim. Before he can say anything you grab your coat storming out of the diner. Magnus quickly pulls out a $20 putting it on the table hurrying to catch up with you.

            “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You can’t just walk away from things when they get difficult.” He says keeping your quick pace.

            “I’m walking away from ‘adding more incidents to my records’.” You quote him sarcastically.

            “And you can’t keep using that as an excuse every time you find yourself facing something unpleasant.” Reaching out he catches your arm to stop you.

            Without even thinking about it you turn landing your elbow in his stomach. However he’d been anticipating this and tightened his muscles deflecting the blow. Grabbing your shoulder he turns you away pushing you causing you to lose your balance. Your jaw clinches as your anger flares and you spin around throwing a punch directly at his face.

            However he grabs your wrist and backhands you, but not nearly as hard as he could have. Your eyes flash, “BASTARD!” You yell bringing your knee up landing it squarely in his thigh then punching him in the stomach, before bringing your fist against his face. He jerks back so you barely tap him before he shoves you back again.

            You start to regain your balance, but he quickly reaches out grabbing you by the front of your shirt slamming you against the brick wall. You gasp sharply preparing to attack him again. However his hands clamp tighter around the front of your shirt shoving you against the wall before he leans down capturing your lips in a ferocious kiss.

            You were still angry and struggle for a second, but at the same time your entire body seemed to shift from wanting to pound his face into the floor to wanting to ravage him. Even worse, wanting him to ravage you. Closing your eyes you kiss him back just as fiercely, your arm wrapping around his neck. His hands move down your sides around to clinch your buttocks as his body presses against you, sliding his knee between your thighs practically lifting you from the ground. You groan slightly, not being able to get close enough and wrap your leg around his thigh. Your body rubbing desperately against his.
            His knee grinds into your softness. His teeth bite down on your cut lip, spiking the kiss with your blood. You cry out and come back into yourself. You shove him off. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
            "I could ask you the same thing."
            You shove him again. He shoves you back. Clinching your fist, you slap him. With a feral growl, he slams you back into the wall. His mouth is on yours again, his body pinning you to the wall. The side of his hip presses into you like his knee did. He sucks on your bottom lip, tasty the coppery bittersweetness of your blood.
            "Hey! What's going on over there?"
            A couple from the bar stand under the streetlight. "Are you ok, miss?"
            "I'm fine."
            "Is he bothering you? Want us to call the cops?"
            You look at Magnus and giggle. "Sir, we are the cops."
            Your fingers dance down his arm to his hand. He looks down at you. Breathless in anticipation, he follows your lead to your car. "I can walk away. I can see you the precinct tomorrow."
            You push your back against the car. Grabbing his shirt to jerk his body against yours, your mouth hovers under his. "You can. But you won't."
            He closes the distance to suck upon your cut lip. "Your place or mine then?"
            "Mine is about five blocks from here."
            "Yours it is then. Get in."
            This is where you live?” Magnus asks standing behind you as you open the door.

            “Yeah. Fresh out of the academy remember? Currently living paycheck to paycheck.” Stepping in you flip on the light tossing your keys down as he comes in and closes the door. You reach for your side arm to put it down as well, but sigh realizing it had been taken from you after the shooting. “Not allergic to cats, are you?”

            “No. No. Not that I’m aware of.” He says as you turn on another light and walk into the kitchen and opening the fridge. Pulling out a beer you hold it out to him offering him one, “Thanks.” He says taking it. You take one out for yourself before opening it and taking a sip.

            “It looks like it should be condemned but believe it or not I know where everything is. Organized chaos. Have more important things to do and to worry about then cleaning.” Kicking off your shoes you take another drink of your beer.

            “You could always get someone in.” He says opening his beer as well and drinking.

            “I could. But I’d rather eat and pay my rent. So you’ve been in the department for a few years, what does your place look like?” You question.

            “Not that much different.” He says as you both walk into the living room sitting down on the couch as he sits beside you. “More floor space, probably.” He says looking over the clutter. You shrug and take another drink. “Look, what we were talking about at the diner . . . I didn’t mean to upset you. Really. I just wanted you to be aware of the situation. I know that it won’t make you feel any better, but you aren’t the first person this has happened to. There’s always internal investigation when an officer has to use their weapon.”

            “Everyone get made a desk jockey too do they?” You say giving him a look.

            “It won’t be very long. As soon as Dax gets better, everyone will calm down and take a breath.” He reassures you.

            With a sigh you rub your eyes slightly leaning back, “You ever have to shoot someone in the line of duty?”

            Magnus is quiet a moment before he nods, “Yes. I have.”

            “To protect, to save someone else? Another police officer?” You ask.

            He pauses before answering again, “Yes.”

            “Did you kill them?” He nods.“And what happened to you? Threats? Investigation? Probation?”

            He sighs leaning forward his elbows on his knees as he holds his beer in his hands. This time he doesn’t answer right away. After a moment he looks at you, “No.”

            You scoff as your eyes darken looking at him. “Then excuse my bluntness, but you’re just talking out your ass then, aren’t you.” You slam your beer down on the table standing from the couch.

            “The circumstances weren’t the same. The officer I was covering, detective Wallander, wasn’t hurt or injured severely.” He put his own beer down immediately getting up and following after you. “That doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m talking about or that I can’t help you.”

            “How?” You stop dead in your tracks turning back around looking at him. “How in the hell do you think you can help me?” He takes a step towards you but you reach up shoving him back. Feeling yourself growing angry again he was standing way to damn close.

            “Ugh, you have GOT to learn to control your temper!” His voice rising as your attitude was starting to frustrate him. “I’m just trying to talk to you, have a normal conversation and then this starts up again!”

            “If you don’t like my ‘attitude’ then quit fucking following me!” You roar.

            “Your ‘attitude’ is what is going to get you kicked off the force. You’re incredibly talented, strong, and brilliant but if you can’t keep your temper in check no one is going to want to work with you or give you a break.” He hollers back. “And in these situations, in this line of work you need people to be on your side!”

            “That is BULLSHIT Magnus! Complete and utter bullshit! All of this political, popularity contest garbage somehow escapes what they teach you in the academy! Someone is dropping the ball between school and the force and its people like me, and Becky, and others who have to pay the fucking price!” This was ridiculous.

            “I never said it was right, or that I agree with it, but it is what it is and right now there is no changing that!” He shouts back at you.

            You grit your teeth, “Just go away! Go back to wherever you crawled out of and leave me alone!” You start to shove him back again however he smacks your wrists knocking your arms away. Gritting your teeth you lunge forward clawing towards his face with your fingernails. This time he catches your wrists spinning you around crossing and twisting your arms across your chest effectively disabling you.

            “There is a reason they paired us up in class, don’t think for a moment that because I’ve been pulling my punches that you are more advanced than me.” He warns. “You were complaining about cheap shots, but I promise if you take one more at me we’re going to have a problem.” You struggle another moment before realizing you weren’t going to be able to get free and slowly your struggles stop. “Are you done? Or should we get out the pads and just go at it before one or both of us is occupying the bed next to Dax?”
            You smirk. "Go at it, eh?"
            "Yes well maybe I -" You used his voice to see how close he was the back of your head. Close enough. One quick jerk and the back of your head connects with his nose. You hear a crunch. "Fuck!"
            He lets go, shoving you into the wall. His hands immediately go to his face. "Fuck!" Blood marks his mouth in a triangular spray.
            You place your hands on your hips, cocking them to the side.
            "And on that note, I think you should leave."
            He looks from his bloody hands to your smirking face. "You broke my fucking nose."
            "Yes well." You blink your eyes just a little bit longer than usual. He shoulders you into the wall, his arm at your throat. His legs spread between yours so you can't get a grip to lash out without choking yourself on his arm.
            "I told you. One more cheap shot and we'd have a problem." He presses up and in just a bit. You lean up in an attempt to let off the pressure. "You're proving them right by acting like a spoiled child. You give them all the ammunition they need to take you down. Becky and I are the only allies you have in that station house."
            Despite himself and the throbbing ache of his broken nose, your body pressed against is having the desired effect that any man and woman pressed together would have. With his arm in your throat, you can't get the air to bitch at him. "Becky and I are your only allies. Everyone else thinks you're a cocky cunt. They'll believe the accident was your fault because they just-don't-like-you."
            He lets you go. You drop forward, gasping for breath. You will not cry. You will not fucking cry. Instead, you yell and lunge for him. He catches you and carries you backwards into your bedroom, slamming you down on the bed.
            "This is insane. And ridiculous." You scramble to sit up but instead of pouncing on you and committing the one crime every woman fears, he stands at the edge of your bed, seething. "I want to fight you. And fuck you. And tell you to go fuck yourself." His fists clench and relax.
            "Ditto."
            He takes a step back. "I think I should leave. I'll just get a cab back to the bar."
            This was such a weird and insane situation. How could you want to screw someone that you sort of, at this moment, absolutely hated. When he started to leave, you sigh and grab his hand. “Sit down.” You push him back a little harder then you meant to. You stand from the bed, “You leave here like that, you better be going to the hospital.”

            You disappear for a moment before coming back with the first aid kit and a wet cloth. Carefully cleaning the blood from his face that was bruising somewhat. “Ow! Be careful.” He says when you press the cloth next to his nose.

            “Don’t be such a big baby. It’s not broken. Just . . . really bruised.” You admit embarrassed that you’d caused the injury. You didn’t like hurting people, you never liked hurting people. Disappearing from the room again you come back carrying ice wrapped in a cloth and rest it to his face. He flinches but then holds still. The ice would keep it from swelling too much and prevent the bruising from being too bad.

            Unconsciously your fingers smooth through his long blonde locks. The soft, gentle, caring way you were touching him now seemed somewhat contradictory to the woman who attempted to break his nose just a little while ago. “You’re good at this.” He says softly.

            “I thought I was interested in being a paramedic. Briefly. I took a few courses before I changed my mind and went to the academy instead.” You explain. It was obvious you weren’t a complete bitch to the core otherwise you wouldn’t have cared how he looked before turning him out.

            “That’s why Dax isn’t dead, isn’t it. He should have died before help arrived. You kept him from bleeding to death.” You look into his eyes and give a nod. Magnus looks at you in silence for a moment before reaching out grabbing your waist and pulling you to straddle his lap facing him. You were caught off guard for a moment taking the ice pack away from his face looking into his eyes. “You are somewhat of a powder keg, it doesn’t take much to set you off.”

            “I’m just tired of the bullshit.” You admit with a sigh. “I never excelled at ass kissing 101.”

            Magnus half laughed, “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” He quieted for a moment just looking up into your eyes. His hands reach up cupping your head stroking your face with his thumbs a moment before pulling you into a deep kiss. He was so incredibly hot, you couldn’t explain what it was about him that was so alluring. Maybe the fact that he was actually a match for you. When you fight in the gym, you weren’t really worried about hurting him, even more so he didn’t seem to worry to much about hurting you either. He was tall, his eyes were beautiful, he was intelligent, and he could take a punch.

            After a moment his large hands and long fingers wrap around your body as he lies back down on the bed and you kiss him again unable to stop yourself. His hand moves up your back and slides into your hair gripping tight pulling you into a more ferocious kiss.

            Both of you gasping for air forces the eager kiss apart as you look into each other’s eyes realizing how completely mad this was. “You almost broke my nose.” He says softly.

            “You tried to dislocate my shoulder.” You pointed out.

            It seemed like you should both be extremely pissed off at each other, and maybe on some level you were. However you grin at each other instantly devouring one another’s mouths in an animalistic fashion your bodies rubbing against one another in anxious desperation.

            His hands slide down your back pulling up your shirt that was tucked in, your fingers move swiftly down the front of his slipping the buttons free. The kiss breaks again as he pulls your shirt off over your head and you toss it aside, before consuming each others kiss once more. Rolling over, you slide out from beneath him moving up to the pillows on the bed. Magnus sits up pulling his shirt the rest of the way off throwing it to the floor as well before crawling up over you, your bodies melding together as you grope and clutched to each other’s bodies.

            His hand moves down your body easily opening your jeans and sliding his hand down into your undergarments as his fingers begin to stroke your soft warm pink flesh. Your eyes close and you groan softly in approval drawing your nails down his back drawing a slight hiss from Magnus.
            Magnus uses his fingers, stroking in and out. Your hips jerk. His open mouth hovers over your open mouth. "You like that?"
            "Don't ever say that again."
            "Whatever." He jerks your jeans down, peeling them inside out down your legs but leaves your panties on. "Matching? You never struck me as a girl who wore matching bra and panties." He takes your mouth before you make a smart ass comment. His rough calloused hand skims down your belly and cups your mound. You moan into his mouth.
            He pinches your cut lip between his teeth, tinging the kiss with blood again. He kisses a line down your body, licking and nipping at the soft flesh between your breasts and above and below your naval. He rubs his face over the soft fabric of your panties.
            You look down the line of your body at him, the line he just kissed. He looks up you with a possessive look in his eyes. Your lips part in anticipation. His mouth closes over you through the fabric. You sigh, sliding your hands into his curly locks. Kissing and sucking you to the point of gasping.
            You spread your thighs a little wider. Magnus settles over your body, grinding his rock hard erection into you. You wrap your legs around his waist, locking his body against you.

"It's hard to enjoy your body with my face beginning to hurt. You could have waited until after we'd fucked to fuck up my face."
            "I didn't want to fuck you until I'd fucked up your face."
            "Liar. I've seen you eye fucking me at shooting range and in the training room."
            "Fine, I've thought about this moment since I saw you run down the tranny."
            "The one that knifed her pimp."
            "Yea." He rests his chin on his hands on your belly. "I like you."
            You laugh. "I like you too. But don't make this weird."
            "Aw don't start being a snarky bitch now. You look so sexy in your bra and panties." What the fuck.
            "Is that a not so nice way of saying don't ruin a sure thing?"
            "Basically."
            "Shutting up now." He laughs and kisses you deeply. The kiss heats up until you're breathless. He jumps off the bed and shucks his jeans and boxers.
            "Are you on the pill?"
            "Yes but there's condoms in the bedside drawer." He raises an eyebrow. "What? A girl's gotta be prepared. And if you think that makes me a slut, you can just head home and rub one out."
            He can't fucking read you. Or maybe he's reading you loud and clear. You want each other but if he leaves, it won't be a big deal. He takes care of the condom and settles between your thighs again.
            "Why are you naked and I'm not?"
            "I told you. You look sexy in your bra and panties." He kisses you to shut you up. Pushing the fabric of your panties to the side, he checks you with his fingers. You and he growl when he slides up in you. He takes it slow at first, skirting on this side of pain using his hips and thrusts to get as much of his large member into you.
            You lock your ankles around his waist, lifting your hips in answer to his thrusts. "Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck."
            You hadn’t had sex in quite a while and you’d been a big ball of sexual frustration. Since the first time you saw Magnus at the precinct, the first day, something about him was attractive. Maybe it was his confidence, maybe it was his locks of curly blonde hair, maybe the way his crystal clear eyes sparkled when he looked at you, or maybe because he was so tall. Who knew the reasons and who cared really.

            In the back of your head you realize that you were probably going to be another notch on his bed post. But to be perfectly honest, he was pretty much going to be a notch on yours. God he smelled good, his strong arms around you felt so good, it was worth it just to get to experience having him, if only for tonight.

            Your hips match his rhythm as you could both feel a powerful climax building deep within you only spurring you on in your movements. Magnus reached up wrapping his hand around the metal bar of your headboard, bracing himself so he could thrust a bit harder inside of you. Gasping and moaning at the sensation of his every stroke it isn’t long before the powerful orgasm caused you both to cry out in absolute pleasure and bliss. He pushes in you completely as your bodies shutter in delight.

            However, neither of you were interested in stopping or resting and were eager to have more of the same. You could feel that Magnus was still quite hard despite the orgasm as you gorged yourselves on each others lips, groping and clawing at each others bodies. Wrapping your thigh around his waist you flip him over onto his back sitting straight up as your strong thighs begin to move your body up and down on the length of his stone hard shaft. His eyes roll back slightly as his hands rest on your waist, guiding you as you move. His hands move down and grasp your buttocks digging his nails into your flesh. You hiss slightly but the sensation of pain sends tingles up your spine causing you to move a bit faster. Your hands brace against his strong chest allowing you to ride him a bit harder and take him a bit deeper inside of you.

            “Oh fuck.” He moans his breath becoming a bit erratic obviously enjoying the way you take him inside of you. His hips jerk and thrust upward feeling himself nearing another powerful climax. He sits up beneath you as his hands grip you a bit tighter, you’re almost slamming down on him impaling yourself on his member until you feel his body shutter, his arm wraps around you to keep you still for a moment, the full length of his manhood filling your depths. Your own body moves involuntarily against him. It hardly seemed fair that he went before you did, not very gentlemanly at all. Yet at the same time, having had the power to make him cum so hard was intoxicating.

            Resting your hands on either side of his face, you devour each other’s lips. Finally he releases your backside, one hand moving up your back and sliding into your hair, loving the taste and sensation of holding you so tight.

            “Turn around.” He breathes looking up at you.

            “Turn around?” You ask.

            “On your knees, I want you from behind.” He says quickly. “Now.”

            Three times? Seriously? His stamina was all inspiring and you shift your hips finding that he was still quite hard. His hands wrap around your waist lifting you from him turning you over on the bed. Getting up on his knees, he pulls you up on all fours running his hands over your soft warm back. His knee parts your legs as he clamps down on your waist and slides into you yet again. His movements just as deep and deliberate as before. He moved a bit faster as you found your own body starting to quiver and shake, arching and bowing your back as he penetrates you. You can feel the tip of him thrusting against the nerve cluster and your cervix deep within you causing you to cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Throwing your head back your body tenses and shivers, your frozen in place unable to move as tingles of pleasure traveled up and down your thighs. With a few more thrusts he joins you hissing and moaning at the exhilarating pleasure.

            He leans down over you pressing his breast against your back, his strong arm wrapped around your middle holding you tight against him his other hand braced against the mattress below. He rests his chin on your shoulder as you both gasp for air trying to regain your breath. He grins, “You up for some more?” He says into your ear.

            You smile, “I can go as far as you can.” You say a challenge to your voice.

            “Hmm, we’ll just see about that.” He says pinching your shoulder between his teeth. He withdraws from within you sitting back on his own knees. “Fuck.” You hear him hiss.

            “What?” You turn around sitting on the bed looking at him.

            “It broke.” He said removing the condom.

            “There’s more in the drawer, get another one.”

            “You’re sure you’re on the pill?” He says reaching over into the drawer taking out another.

            You give him a look, “Gee. I wonder.” How insulting was that? Did he actually think you’d lie about that? You couldn’t get pregnant right now, you’d just gotten to start your career and didn’t have time for that. “I get a shot every three months, covered. Okay?”

            Magnus gives you a look before reaching over taking you by the wrist and pulling you back up on the bed laying you down against the pillows before wrapping his arm around you looking down into your eyes. “I don’t want any surprises. Can’t really afford child support right now.”

            “You think I can?” You snap a bit annoyed now. Acting like he was the responsible one and that you were a complete idiot. He growls slightly grabbing your wrists and pinning down your arms on either side of you, he uses his weight to pin your body down into the mattress beneath him.
            Your head falls back, a mirror to his own. His hands hold onto your shoulders from under your arms. The metal bar of your headboard squeaks in protest under both your hands. His hips slow their rapid thrust as yours slow their riding motion.
            He licks his lips and opens his eyes. "Even black and blue you're gorgeous." His lips plant fish kisses in the hollow of your throat and across your chest.
            "I could say the same for you." You lean back slightly against his knees. You glance at the clock on the bedside table. "We both have second shift tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep."
            You sit up on your knees then stand up. "Go clean up and I'll find you some sweat pants or something."
            Magnus crab crawls to the edge of the bed then disappears out of your bedroom. You pull a shirt on over your head. You pluck a pair of clean panties from your clean laundry basket. You also dig out a pair of your baggier sweats.
            Magnus saunters back in. Your body clenches in desire. He wore your nail and bite marks proudly. They went beautifully with his bruised face.
            You sport your own bite marks and bruises. Bad Leroy Brown shatters the moment. "That's the station." You jump onto the bed and run across it, grabbing your phone. "Hello?"
            "It's Becky. Chief wanted me to call and let you know that Dax is awake and talking. He's corroborating your story. But they're still not sure he'll be back on the force. So when you get in you're to go to his office to find out who your new partner is."
            "Aside from you and Martinsson, who is there? Everyone hates me."
            "It's about duty and the job, dollface. Not about like."
            You nod your head then seem to realize she can't see you. "Yea, I know. I just hope it's someone who does their job moderately well."
            "Hope so too. Get some rest."
            Magnus looks up at you where you're standing on the bed. "Good news?"
            "Dax is awake and corroborating my story."
            "That's great!" He grabs you around the waist and pulls you off the bed, spinning you around in a circle.
            You laugh and enjoy the light hearted moment. He really was a nice guy. You clamp down on those thoughts. Neither of you needed a work affair. One time deal to release tension. He'd go back to the detective pool and you'd get shunted around to partner after partner until you'd get fed up and put in a transfer.
            He set you on your feet. He'd figured out the sweat pants were for him while you were on the phone. The soft jersey fleece felt nice under your hands when you brushed his ass.

"I'm gonna go clean up. I pretty much sleep in the middle so pick a side."

            After your usual bed time rituals, you slide under the covers. Magnus settles his arm around you and holds you close. You drift off to sleep. Oddly comforted by the sound of his soft snoring, and the mingled scents of sweat, sex and blood.
(Continued -->)
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I'm Your Shield