game of thrones au | ceo!sansa & cop!jon
He wished Sansa Stark had never become more than the facts in his reportâa name, a height, a potential motive. Now, sitting across from him at a diner they had come to enough times the last few weeks for the waitress to recognize them, she felt dangerous and not dangerous at all.
She sipped at her coffee, a delicate sip, and looked at him over the rim with raised brows. âDo you really still think I killed him?â
He sighed, because he was pretty sure he had stopped thinking Sansa killed Robb to take over Stark Industries within the first five minutes of talking to her, but he shouldnât. âI think thereâs still something youâre not telling me.â
She shrugged as she set the coffee back onto the table. âHis murder will get solved. Does it matter?â
Her red hair was curled down her back, red lipstick in place, red nails tapping against the table top. She looked exactly like the femme fataleâs he used to watch in the black and white film noirs that had made him want to go into police work in the first place.
But she wasnât simply some tropeâshe was a human being. Someone with answers in that beautiful head of hers he needed. Someone who he knew he liked to spend time with too much for it to be strictly about the case, for it to be anything but genuine interest and desire.
The part of the equation he couldnât understand was why she was still spending time with him.
âWhy do I feel like youâre talking about something I don't know instead of insinuating you have faith in my police skills?â
Her lips quirked up, and she bent forward to rest her chin on her hands. âWhy canât it be both, Jon?â
When she said his name, the mask was gone. When she said his name, he wanted to forget about it all and hear her say it a million more times until he was drowning in it. He was solving a murder case, and somehow she always seemed the most dangerous thing in the room (at least to his heart).
for @spacekimera [winner of 4th place in my fanfiction giveawayâ]
