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You've Got to be Kitten Me

Summary:

Sansa Clegane brings a skinny kitten home after it shows up at her work. Her husband Sandor hates cats. Sansa is determined to keep this pitiful kitten, no matter what he says. Will Sandor warm up to the idea?

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Sansa chewed her lip as she glanced down at her lap, trying to keep her attention on the road as she drove home. Clinging to her sweater was a scrawny black kitten, barely the size of her hand, mewing pitifully up at her. 

 

“I know, love, we’re going home.” She murmured, using the back of her finger to stroke his head. “Sandor is going to kill me.” she bit her lip, pulling into the driveway of their house. She put the car in park and carefully removed his tiny claws from her sweater, sliding out of the front seat and setting him where she’d been sitting. 

 

“Just a second.” she cooed, grabbing the bags of kitten supplies she’d bought out of the back seat and looping them over her forearms, tossing her purse over her shoulder. She picked up the bony kitten and clutched him to her chest, slamming the car door with her boot and carefully jogging up their porch steps, again using her boot to turn the lever door handle. 

 

“Alrighty little guy.” She whispered, resting the bags on their island in the kitchen and glancing back at the clock on the stove. “We’ve only got a little bit of time.” She bit her lip, knowing her husband would be home in less than two hours. 

 

Sansa carried him into the laundry room, tossing a fluffy blanket into the bottom of a basket and setting it on the counter beside her, making sure their new family member was comfy before she went back to her work. 

 

“Lets see here, we’ve got a mouse, a feather on a string,” she pulled off the packaging and pushed them to the side, “food dishes, kitten food, kitty litter, a litter box, a scooper.” 

 

She grinned giddily, tossing all the kitten supplies into the empty litter box and jogging upstairs to their guest bathroom, setting everything up as best she could before returning to the kitchen. “You’re all set up, let's see if we can get some food in you before we go take a nap.”

 

It didn’t take long for the hungry kitten to get the hang of eating from his new dish, adorned with fish bones in hopes Sandor would warm up to him a bit. Once he was done he crawled back to her lap, puring lightly as he settled down, closing his eyes. 

 

“Me too, bud.” She smirked, holding him to her chest as she returned to the living room, turning on her favorite trashy reality show and settling on the couch. 

 

-

 

“Little Bird?” The thick voice of her husband rang through the hallway as he kicked off his work boots. 

 

Sandor furrowed his eyebrows as he looked over the new additions to their kitchen decor. “What in seven hells?”

 

He pulled a beer from the fridge and popped the top before moving into the living room, shaking his head as he turned off the television. He circled the couch, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “How was your- what is that?” 

 

Sansa inhaled deeply, sleepily rubbing her eyes and smiling up at him. “Hey.”


“Sansa what is that?” Sandor stared at the kitten curled up beneath her chin. 

 

She bit her lip, knowing he only used her name when she was in trouble or he was enjoying their nightly activities. “A kitten.” She stuck out her bottom lip, scratching his tiny head with her fingernails. “He showed up at work and no one else would take him.”

 

“No Sansa!” he shook his head, running his hand over his face. “We are not going to keep some raggedy fleabag.”

 

“Please Sandor?” She stuck out her bottom lip, carefully getting up and avoiding getting clawed, looking up at him from beneath her eyelashes. 

 

“We can not have a cat, they’re annoying, they shit in a fucking box.” He narrowed his eyes at her, his hands on his hips. “What would you even name that stupid thing?”

 

Sansa paused, holding the kitten in front of her face, running through a list of names in her head. “Fluffy, I would name him Fluffy.” She raised a challenging eyebrow at him, her confidence boost quickly dissipating. 

 

“You should name it Stranger, that’s what it will be to me.” Her husband snarled, glaring daggers at the innocent creature in her arms.

 

“I’ll take care of him, I swear, he won’t bother you.” She could feel her eyes start to burn, tears pooling. “Please Sandor?”

 

“If it gets under my feet I’m going to step on it, and I will not be sorry.” He shot a final look at the curious kitten against his wife’s chest and climbed the stairs, going to wash off the day’s dirt and grime.

 

Sansa sniffled as she watched him leave, shaking her head. “Lets go make some dinner, I’ll make what I want and Mr. Meanie can make his own.” She purposefully raised her voice, hoping he would hear her. 

 

She hummed lightly as she danced around the kitchen, making their favorite dinner in a single serving size. “You’re going to be spoiled.” She kissed his tiny head and placed a piece of cooked chicken she’d torn off her meal in front of him. 

 

Once she’d finished eating, putting her dishes in the dishwasher, she took the kitten upstairs, laying him on Sandor’s side of the bed as she stripped off her clothes, putting on her husband’s favorite underwear set. 

 

“You minx.” He raised an eyebrow, shaking his head and leaning against the door frame. 

 

Sansa shot him a look, taking his pillow and throwing it as hard as she could at his chest. “Guest Room.” 

 

“You can not make me sleep in the guest room because you brought home a stupid cat.” He protested, tossing the pillow back towards the bed. 

 

“I certainly can, and I certainly will.” 

 

“Sansa, why are you so obsessed with this thing?” He crossed his arms.

 

“Because Sandor! He’s tiny and fragile, he’s so young and the world has been so cruel to him!” tears trailed down her cheeks as she scooped up the kitten, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I just want to give him a good life.”

 

Sandor sighed, kneeling down in front of her. “Gods I hate it when you cry.” he murmured, wiping away her tears with the pad of his thumb. 

 

“Fragile little things don’t do well around me, but, if he lives, you can keep him.” He relented, rolling his eyes. 

 

Sansa smiled through her sniffles, kissing his lips gently. “Thank you.” She murmured. 

 

“I am not cleaning its shit.” he rose to his feet, moving to settle into bed.

 

Sansa sighed, setting the kitten on the mattress beside her and slipping under the covers. “Hold him for a second.” she put the baby on her husband’s chest, his entire body freezing. 

 

“Little Bird, get it off. I swear if it claws me I will throw it.” 

 

“No you won’t.” She called his bluff, curling up against him and returning the kitten to her chest. She giggled as his tiny paws kneaded her breast, her fingers running along the length of his body. 

 

“Listen you little shit, those are mine.” A small chuckle from her husband warmed her heart, angling her head to press a kiss to his chest. 

 

-

 

Sansa woke up with a giggle, her tiny friend curled peacefully up on her husband’s chest, his large hand covering the kitten’s body. She kissed both their heads and rolled out of bed, showering and drying her hair. 

 

“Little Bird, it's hungry.” 

 

“His food and litter box is in the bathroom.” She instructed, poking her head out of the bathroom, crimping her eyelashes in a curler. 

 

“Fat chance.” Sandor got up, the tiny kitten dangling from the scruff of his neck. He sneered lightly as he pushed it into her chest, shaking his head. 

 

“Sandor I’ve got a lunch date with Margery, I’ve got to go to the store, I can not be late to my hair appointment.” Sansa rambled, gritting her teeth lightly. “Please, just go put him in the bathroom, use the spoon to scoop some food into the dish, and shut the door.” 

 

Her husband’s expression was blank as he stared back at her, Sansa using her charms to guilt him into doing as she’d told him to. “Fine.” He snapped, grabbing the kitten and disappearing. 

 

Sansa proceeded with her routine, looking herself over one more time before jogging downstairs. She paused about halfway, glancing back at the bathroom door. Her heart sank when she saw the door open, knowing that the kitten was small enough to fit through the gaps in the bannister. “No, no, no.” She mumbled, doing her best not to trip over her heels as she ran down the stairs. 

 

“Sandor you can’t-” The sight before her as she rounded the corner to the kitchen stunned her for a few moments. Sandor was leaning against the counter, wolfing down a bowl of cereal, Stranger sitting on the counter next to him eating from his kitty bowl. 

 

“Little fuck started crying when I shut the door, was all I could do to shut him up.” Sandor grumbled, turning back to his cereal. 

 

Sansa tried to hide her smile as she gently kissed her husband’s cheek, “Thank you from us both.” She grinned, pressing a kiss to the purring kitten’s head as well.

 

“My sweet boys.” She smirked, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and an apple from the bowl on the counter. “You can leave him in the bathroom if you need to, but be careful, he can fit through the gaps in the banisters. If you need to tire him out you can use the feather string toy.” She ran through her mental list, sliding her sunglasses over her eyes and looping her purse over her arm. “I should be home by three.” She gave them both a final kiss before jogging to the door, grabbing her keys from the hook on the way out.

 

Sandor sighed, watching her leave and glancing back at Stranger, who was licking his lips. “If you fall off the balcony she’ll kill me, you know that right?” The kitten just tilted his head, making Sandor scoff. “A trip to the store it is.” He shook his head. 

 

“Come on.” Sandor scooped up the kitten, going back to their bedroom, dropping him in the center of their bed and finding one of his old work shirts. “Listen, Little Shit, you better stay in this pocket, I can’t leave you home alone if you’re gonna bitch the whole time.” Sandor carefully settled the kitten in the pocket, snapping the button. He made sure the little guy was comfortable and could poke his head out of the top before he left the house.

 

-

 

Sansa came home to their garage door open, Sandor’s saws and tools spread out over their parking spots. “What in seven hells?”

 

Sansa gathered the groceries she could carry, pushing open the door. “Sandor? Love?” She called, putting the groceries down on the counter. 

 

“Hey babe.” Her husband entered the kitchen, obviously tired and covered in sawdust. 

 

Sansa tilted her head, noticing the large bulge in his chest pocket. “What have you been up to? Where is my little man?” 

 

Sandor supressed a smile as he bent over, holding open the pocket, Stranger sleeping peacefully in a ball against his chest. “Been there all day. Went to the hardware store, got some stuff, came home, fixed the stairs, made some stairs.” He mumbled, gently removing the kitten and placing him in her hands.

 

“Made stairs? Fixed the stairs?” Sansa’s eyes widened slightly. 

 

“You said dipshit here could get through the gaps in the banisters so I zip tied some lattice to the bottoms just until he gets big enough. Our bed is tall, and I figured you’d want him to keep sleeping with us. If he shits in our bed I’ll punt him, so I made him some stairs so he could get up and down a bit easier.” 

 

Sansa felt tears well in her eyes as she held the purring kitten to her chest, giddily wrapping her arm around her husband’s neck, pulling him down to her height so she could kiss his lips. 

 

“There are groceries in the car, or I would drag you to bed.” she sneered, sliding Stranger back into Sandor’s pocket and dragging him out to the car. 

 

Sandor and Stranger stayed with Sansa in the kitchen as she made dinner, the black kitty sleeping on the counter in the bed Sansa had bought him earlier when she bought groceries. 

 

“Thank you for taking care of him while I was gone.” She smiled, glancing back over her shoulder as she worked at the stove. Neither of them would admit it, but they both knew Sandor’s threats were hollow, that he was even beginning to like the little bugger. 

 

“Meh.” He shook his head, scrolling through his phone and avoiding eye contact with his wife. 

 

Sansa smirked, dumping the stir fry onto two plates and sliding one to her husband, grabbing some forks and glasses. 

 

“Don’t you dare.” she heard the growl from behind her, her heart skipping a beat. Sansa turned around, quickly sliding his glass towards him, along with a bottle of whiskey. She bit her lip, the tiny kitten sniffing at the edge of the plate. 

 

“I can go put him-” She began, pausing as she saw his fork push a small piece of chicken towards his nose, a hesitant paw batting it off the edge of the plate. 

 

“Now get away, little shit.” He grumbled, flicking his fork towards the kitten. 

 

The three of them settled on the couch after dinner, Sansa curled up in her husband’s lap. Stranger sat for a short while on Sansa’s chest, content with her scratches until he climbed up her face to nestle under Sandor’s chin, almost hidden among the long tresses of his hair. 

 

“Say what you want about him, he loves you.” She smiled, playing with her husband’s hands. 

 

“Never say I’m not tolerant of your escapades.” He shook his head, rolling his eyes. 

 

-

 

Sansa had the day off the next day, but Sandor had things to oversee at the construction site. She woke up with Stranger nestled against her side, the opposite side of the bed cold. “Good morning my little love.” She scratched his ears. “We should go play outside today, huh?” 

 

Sansa dressed herself in comfortable clothing, pulling her hair out of her face. The tiny kitten clumsily followed her down the stairs, chasing after the mouse Sansa kicked into the kitchen. She watched him play, slipping and sliding on the tiles as she stirred her oatmeal. 

 

She grinned as she took a short video, sending it to her husband along with a kissy face emoji. She’d finished her breakfast by the time her phone buzzed against the granite countertop, a simple ‘Stupid cat’ and eye roll emoji as a response. 

 

“He has got to be the most hard headed man in the North.” Sansa shook her head, gathering her wallet and house keys from their usual spots around the house. “Come on buddy.” She murmured, scooping up the rambunctious kitten and exiting the house. 

 

She set him down gingerly in the grass, sitting on the bottom steps of their porch and watching him navigate the wilderness. “Sandor needs to cut the grass before you come out here again, it's taller than you are.” She smirked, watching him chase after a bug that had flown close to him.

 

 Realizing he couldn’t see the redhead, he began to cry, his pitiful meows making her shake her head. “Come back over here mister.” She called, sending the video she’d taken to her family group chat and introducing him to her siblings and parents. 

 

His cries had attracted the attention of the neighborhood cat, who was now prowling near the street curb. Sansa had only seen it once or twice in the past, the poor thing was scarred and missing half an ear, but too mean to even attempt approaching. 

 

The larger cat crept closer to the kitten, growling lowly, its ears pinned against its head. Stranger’s hair stood on end, timidly stepping closer. The opposing feline’s hiss didn’t phase the curious baby, who naively rubbed against the larger chest, mewing lightly. 

 

Sansa’s attention was ripped away from her phone’s constant buzzing, her sisters in law obsessing over the video and insisting on knowing every detail, by a loud cry of pain and the larger cat trotting in the opposite direction. 

 

“Fuck.” Sansa sighed, jumping up and striding over to the cowering black kitten, the fur around his neck matted with blood. “Oh poor baby,” kissed his head gently, “that’ll teach you to stick your nose in places it doesn’t belong.”

 

Sansa brought him inside, placing him in the sink and rinsing the blood off his neck. “I’ve seen worse, but we’re going to go get you some antibiotics.”  

 

She toweled him off, swaddling him and placing him in a laundry basket, dialing her husband’s phone number. 

 

“How’s my girl?” Her husband sounded stressed, but pleased she’d called. 

 

“I’m fine, but I’m taking Stranger to the vet. I let him play in the yard and he got into a scrap with that stray.” 

 

“He what?” 

 

“He’ll probably be fine. I’m taking him to get him some shots and antibiotics, a stitch at the very worst.” She shrugged as she started toward the Highgarden Animal Clinic. “The dogs got into fights all the time when I was young, little guy got off easy.”

 

“Sansa, you let him get hurt? You let him outside? Are you insane?” He sighed heavily through the phone, followed by the sound of his truck door opening. 

 

“You don’t have to come to the vet, babe, it’ll take an hour tops, maybe longer since they need to get his profile filled out.” 

 

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” He grumbled, followed by the sound of him hanging up.

 

“We are not going to keep some raggedy fleabag.” Sansa mocked, shaking her head as she scratched beneath the kitten’s chin. Sansa pulled into Margery’s vet clinic to find her husband’s truck already there, Sandor pacing along the side. She smirked lightly, pulling in beside him. 

 

He yanked open the passenger side door, scooping up the bundle of blankets from the basket and looking him over. “He’s been beaten bloody Little Bird!” He held the kitten against his chest, careful to stay away from his injuries. “I am going to hunt down that nasty cat and-”

 

“Sandor!” She shot him a look, looping her bag over her shoulder and locking the car before leading him inside. “You will do no such thing. He just got a little cut, he needed his shots anyway, he’s gonna be fine.”

 

“You don’t know that, what if it gave him a disease?”

 

“Then we will handle it.” Sansa shook her head. 

 

“Is that Sansa Stark?” A voice came from behind the receptionist’s desk as they walked inside.

 

“Olenna!” Sansa jogged over, wrapping her arms around the older woman. “It's been so long since we talked.” 

 

The older woman smiled, glancing up at Sandor, still fussing over the kitten behind her. “You married him if I remember correctly.” She looked him over with scrutinization. “Anyway, you’re here for this little fellow?” 

 

“Sansa let him get attacked by a stray cat from our neighborhood.” Her husband shot her a look.

 

“Cats and dogs fight dear, he probably got a bit too close. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Olenna placed a hand on his arm, pressing a button on a phone to page her granddaughter. 

 

A few moments later Margery emerged from the back room, embracing her friend. “It's so good to see you.” She grinned, nodding towards Sandor. “So this is the little trouble maker?” 

 

“He didn’t do anything wrong.” Sandor murmured, carefully handing the kitten to Margery. 

 

“Let’s get you guys settled in an exam room and I’ll take him back, get a weight on him, then we’ll get him his shots and look over this neck.” The brunette smiled, leading them down the hallway to a small room with a few chairs and a tall metal table. 

 

Margery left them alone, Sansa settling in a chair and checking her work email. Sandor paced back and forth, mumbling things every few steps. 

 

“Calm down, love, he’s going to be fine. He’s a tough little guy and it's just a cut.” Sansa shook her head, trying to catch his hand to pull him into the chair beside her. 

 

“He’s not leaving my sight when we get home. I’m going to heat up the leftover stir fry and he can have the chicken, I’ll eat the vegetables.” He grimaced slightly at the thought. 

 

Sansa nodded, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stop him from coddling the kitten until he was better. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” She giggled, standing up to kiss his lips lightly. 

 

Margery entered a few moments later, setting the kitten on the metal table. “Stranger here is a whopping 14.3 ounces, and I’d estimate he’s about five weeks old.” She scratched his ears lightly. “He’s a bit small, but once he gets on a more regular feeding schedule with some high calorie food, he’ll grow like a weed.” 

 

Sandor nodded, chewing his lip as he listened. 

 

“I looked at his neck, and I’m not too worried about it, but I’ll send you home with some oral antibiotics to put in his food. Myrcella is drawing up his baby shots now.” 

 

“So he doesn’t need stitches? He doesn’t have a disease?” Sandor scooped up the tiny kitten, holding him close. 

 

“No, not that I can see.” Margery shook her head, taking the handful of syringes from Myrcella. “How about you hold him while I give him these shots?”

 

“The Little Bird can do it.” He grumbled, handing him to his wife and taking a few steps back. 

 

Sansa shook her head, chuckling lightly as she held the kitten still, cooing to him under her breath. Every time the kitten would mew she saw her husband wince out of the corner of her eye, forcing her to hide her smile. 

 

“All done!” Margery smiled, hugging Sansa once again before the trio left. 

 

Once they were home Sandor fulfilled his promise, feeding the kitten his fill of stir fry chicken and settling on the couch, the kitten on his chest. 

 

Sansa snuggled into his side, watching her boys drift off to sleep to the sound of the television. “Just wait til it's an actual baby.” She murmured, a small smirk on her face. 

 

Sandor gave her a confused, sleepy look. “Did you say something Little Bird?” he mumbled.

 

“Go back to sleep.” She kissed his cheek gently, “I love you both.”