“I can take that bottle to go. Honestly I’m not sure why I’m here.”

Sansa placed her hands over Tyrion’s ears before she turned back to Sandor. 

“It’s because he thinks you’ve got connections to women.” Her tone was tired and no nonsense. 

Sandor raised his eyebrow at her. 

“He does?” 

Sansa looked Sandor over again and then raised her eyebrow. 

“Don’t you?” 

Sandor felt a lump form in his throat. 

“I’m not a child and don’t treat me as such.” Tyrion grabbed Sansa’s hands from his head, holding them gently. “Come home with me tonight, Sansa.” 

She shook her head, lifting her hands from his. But she cracked a secretive smile to Sandor. 

“I won’t go home with you, but…” She trailed off, coming up and placing a chaste kiss to Sandor’s cheek. “You, maybe.” 

Sansa gave a wink to them before slipping off into the crowd once more, disappearing from sight. 

Sandor breathed once she was out of sight, not even realizing he was holding his breath. 

“Do you know her?” Tyrion asked, waving for the bartender that was farther down the bar that may serve them. 

“No, not in the slightest.” Sandor murmured, having to stop himself from trying to find Sansa in the crowd. 

“Well, my friend, I think she wants to know you.” 

Sandor didn’t see Sansa the rest of that night, and he tried to convince himself that he didn’t really have a reason to go to the bar by himself in the following days.

But loneliness is very persuasive, especially in a new city where your only contact is the drunk dwarf from work. 

Rain pattered on the glass, and as Sandor suspected it was slow for a Tuesday night-- but he didn’t know whether or not Sansa would be in tonight.

A part of him of course wanted to see her, that was the whole reason he was here in the first place… but a part of him didn’t want to see her, because she haunted him now. 

He didn’t know why she did. There wasn’t anything in particular that stood out to him about her. 

Her fiery personality that matched her hair, maybe.... Maybe that was it. 

He couldn’t say whether or not he would take a tray to the face by that woman--

“Good to see you again.” Her voice spoke up from in front of him. Sandor lifted his head to see her standing behind the bar, leaning heavily on her arms. She had a white dish towel on her shoulder and what looked like some spills on her shirt. 

“Good to see you too.” He spoke low, his voice graveled like he hadn’t used it all day. She tilted her head more to one side and blinked at him. “Sansa.” 

She smiled easily, and he took it in like he was lost in a desert and she was the sea. 

“I unfortunately don’t know your name.” Sandor swallowed thickly after she said that. 

He didn’t know if he wanted to tell her his name, it felt like a sin to have her say his dirty name. 

“Tyrion only called you coworker, but I don’t think that’s your name.” 

“It’s not,” he felt pitiful with how little he was talking. “It’s Sandor... Sandor Clegane.”

“Sansa Stark.” She brought her hand in front of them, and he looked at it in surprise. 

He took her hand gently in his, afraid that he would break her small hands in his much larger ones.   

“You like brandy, right?” She turned from him, red hair whipping around in the high ponytail she was wearing that night. 

“Yeah.” He didn’t trust himself to speak louder, or even say more. 

“When did you come to town?” Sansa asked as she placed the small glass in front of him, sans rocks. 

He was impressed she remembered the one drink he ordered for himself a few nights ago. 

“A few weeks ago.” He took it and resisted shooting it back, he wanted to savor this one now. 

Sansa raised her eyebrow and drummed her nails on the bar top. 

“I got promoted from out of state to work at the location here running the ground crews.” He sat the glass on the top and pushed it towards her. “Another.” 

“Another?” Sansa smirked at him. Sandor nodded. 

“Aye, another.” 

Sansa continued to raise her eyebrow at him, a smug look on her face as she did not move to grab the bottle. 

“Ah,” Sandor sighed, giving a chuckle. “Please?” 

“There we go,” Sansa grabbed his glass and turned to grab the bottle. She placed the bottle between the two of them and even grabbed another glass for herself. 

“So… Lannisters?” Sansa said as she pushed Sandor’s glass back to him. Sandor hesitated. 

“There’s that much of stigma?” 

Sansa shrugged as she took a large swig from her own glass. She blinked a few times as it burned her throat but she sighed deeply afterwards. 

“Not a stigma, but there’s some… opinions.” She wiped her hands on the towel on her shoulder before moving it to the other side. 

“Seems like you know everyone in town.” Sandor did knock this next one back, setting it firmly on the bar top. 

“I work at the only bar in town in a 50 mile radius. I would be surprised if I didn’t know anyone.” She placed a hand on her hip as she filled his glass again. 

“What’s the story with the Lannisters?” 

Sansa bit her bottom lip lightly, an action Sandor couldn’t help but notice. 

“I used to date one the Lannister spawns, was briefly engaged, got into a knock down fist fight and more or less I have house arrest for the next few years.” 

Sandor blinked, eyeing the scar on her cheek. 

“Is that where…” he gestured to her cheek. Sansa nodded. “Jesus. What was it about?” 

“He threatened my family and bragged about sleeping with other women, and around here we don’t like someone threatening our family.” 

Sandor really, really wanted to know her. 

She didn’t go home with him that night, but he did get her number. 

What type of woman was she? Did she like flowers? Holding hands? 

A night drive to look at the stars? 

“She sounds…” he didn’t know what to say. Awful came to mind first.

“You can be as mean as you want. No one cares about her, here.” Sansa crossed her arms and nodded her head once. 

Sandor didn’t know what it was about Sansa that made him think about her constantly. It could be her no nonsense attitude she carried about herself. 

He wondered if she was the type of woman who liked to be treated gently. 

What were her favorite flowers? Did she like chocolate or sweet things? 

He thought about how she kissed his cheek so gently, so she probably did enjoy soft touches. 

“Show me around.” 

Sansa stopped cleaning the bar top to look at him, blue eyes concentrated on grey. 

“What do you want to see?” 

Everything. Sandor shrugged. 

“I’m not familiar with the area, and if anyone is going to show me some back roads I would rather it be you.” 

She leaned on the bar top, a small smirk playing on her lips. 

“Me, huh? Not your best friend Tyrion?” 

Sandor huffed, but leaned over the bar top as well. 

“Yeah, you give better directions I feel like. Actually know your way around.” 

Sandor’s eyes trailed down her bare arms and then snapped back up to her ice blue eyes. 

“Plus, no offense to the dwarf… but you’re much prettier than he is.” 

Sansa scrunched her nose but she smiled anyways. 

“Yeah ok, Clegane. I’ll go with you. But I’m expecting some flowers now, maybe some chocolates too.” 

Sandor raised his eyebrow. “Chocolates, Stark?”