Chapter Text
“Yes, mom. No, Mom. Okay, I need to go to work now. Mom, no. Yes, I am planning on coming up for the week. Mom. Bye, love you too.” Sansa slammed her phone down at her desk, and rubbed at her eyes. Then promptly remembered she was wearing mascara, and cursed to herself.
“What else can go wrong? Honestly, what else?” Sansa mumbled to herself, and made her way from her office to the bathroom, smoothing out her bright yellow dress, and fixing the pins in her fiery red hair.
In the mirror, the black from the make up made it look like she had been punched in the face, perfect, just what I need before a meeting. And the fluorescent lights didn't help any. Carefully, she smudged out her eyes until it looked like she did a smokey eye. She prayed it worked, because this meeting was really important.
Sansa had worked her way up from being a lowly intern to the communications manager at Tyrell Blooms Inc. She had dealt with copious amounts of bullshit and sexism in the workplace, and it had taken her almost seven years, but now she was the boss; she held the final say.
She loved her job, she did. Her family on the other hand, did not. They were happy for her, of course. She had succeeded in the workplace, but in their eyes she had failed in her personal life.
She was only 26, but they were acting as if she were an old maid. Ridiculous. Sansa went on dates, to be sure. She tried, she really did. But every date was a terrible disaster. One about a year ago spilled his drink on her on accident, and then proceeded to say it was her fault for not moving out of the way. Another, three months after the first, took her to go see a movie, and he let her pick. She chose the horror of the week, and it turned out he was quicker to frighten than she was, because he proceeded to wet his pants twenty minutes into the film.
The latest, a couple weeks ago, left her halfway through the date because his cat sitter called him with a dire emergency, leaving her with the bill.
Dating was off the table for now. But her family couldn’t take that news, so she had been telling them about this fantastic man she’s been seeing. He was tall, and muscular, and kind. He worked as a construction foreman, and he was smart.
He was completely made up, but the only who knew that was Arya. And Arya would never tell. I hope, Sansa thought to herself.
Strolling into the conference room, Sansa put a smile on her face, and greeted the staff she was to work with over the next weeks for their new marketing campaign.
“Myranda, could you get me the latest file please?” Sansa smiled to her assistant, Gods! She loved having an assistant.
She turned to the rest of the room, “Welcome. Now we have to go through a lot of stuff, and then we can deal out our individual assignments, and then we can regroup. I have been told by Olenna herself, that if this marketing plan doesn’t make Tyrell Blooms the biggest and best…”
Sansa continued into her typical introduction of the new marketing plan, because they always needed to be bigger and better than anything else in the world. Not that there was much competition in world wide floral industries, but Sansa made sure they were the best. And so they stayed.
***
As Sansa walked down the crowded street to her apartment, a smile burst through her lips. The meeting had gone perfectly, and she had set up several new dates for Olenna. She was having dinner with Marge tonight, and the sun was shining.
She smiled hello at several people as she walked up the steps to her apartment when she began to hear the chirping of birds flow from her purse. Lovely.
She let out a deep sigh, before smiling once more. “Hi, mom!”
“Honey, you didn’t answer any of my calls!” Catelyn never understood the idea that Sansa’s phone was turned off the moment she stepped into a conference room.
“I was in a meeting, mom. I told you.” Sansa looked up at the ceiling as she walked up another flight of stairs. Gods help me.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. But I have to know how that date went with… well you never told me his name. It has to be getting serious, doesn’t? It’s been what thirteen dates? That’s thirteen weeks.” Her voice raised in pitched with every sentence.
Sansa rounded the corner on her floor towards her apartment, when to her dismay she saw him standing by the windows. Sandor Clegane, the rudest, most vile, abrasive man she’s ever met. He heard her footsteps and turned around to give her a quick glare. He then pushed himself from the window pane he was leaning against to saunter his way over.
“You left your music on again.” He crossed the tree trunks that he called arms across his chest.
“Mom, hold on.” Sansa spoke into her phone, and then glared up at him. She hated that she had to look up at him. For a female, she was tall, but this man just just a giant. “What did you say?”
“You. Left. Your. Music. On.” He enunciated each word, to mock her.
She strained her ears to see if she could hear anything, and sure enough, her annoyingly peppy wake up playlist was blaring in her bathroom. Which had the same wall as his. “Sorry, I’ll try to remember to turn it off tomorrow.”
She gave him her I-Hate-You-But-I’m-Polite-So-Go-Away smile, and pushed through her door. Sansa put her phone back to her ear. Catelyn had been talking the whole time.
“... should really know. I am your mother. And if you two have been seeing each other for over three months, I just want to know. Sansa, do you not love me? Am I not privileged to know who my own daughter is seeing? Arya said she knows your secret, so why can’t I know? Sansa, please-”
“Sandor.” Sansa blurted, and then immediately bit on her tongue. Oh gods, why did she say his name? His. Name.
“Oh, that is a beautiful name. See it wasn’t that hard. Oh I like that name. You’re bringing him up with you aren’t you?”
Sansa dragged a hand over her face, cursing herself. “No, mom. That’s not a good idea. That’s really not a good idea. I think it’s just going to be me, this year.”
“Again.” Catelyn muttered.
“Yes, mother, again.” Sansa kicked off her shoes, and went to pour herself a drink. Gods knew she needed one.
“But it’s just that your father has been dying to meet him.”
“No, no hasn’t.”
“Oh, yes he does. I want to meet him, and Bran and Rickon are going to be so bored without another guy around. You know because Robb, and Jon aren’t coming. And it would be so nice to meet someone from your personal life-”
“Fine! Gods mother, fine. I’m hanging up now, bye.” Sansa threw her phone onto the counter, and took a swig straight from the bottle.
This is not good. This is not good at all. Shoot. Frick. No. Nope. She wasn’t going to do it. She would get food poisoning. The flu. Or the bubonic plague. No. This was not happening.
Sansa was on the verge of truly freaking out when a knock sounded on her door. Groaning, she dragged herself, along with the bottle of bourbon with her. She looked through the peephole to see a hooked nose, and steel grey eyes staring into the wood.
Yanking the door open, she glared at him, “What?”
“I heard my name. And then a groan. What did I do this time Little Bird?” He doled out the name as a fake endearment.
She looked over him, and took a gulp of the amber alcohol. “Don’t flatter yourself. Don’t you have some children to torture? Some kittens to kidnap?”
He laughed, and gave her a sincere smile, “Whatever,” And he turned back towards his door.
Buzzing could be heard from her counter, “Gods be merciful, I will kill that woman with this phone.”
She walked over to read the message that her mother left her, “If you think you can get food poisoning. to get out of this, think again. You used that one last year. Love you!”
Groaning again, Sansa looked up at the ceiling and then to the open door. You cannot be serious Sansa Stark, she thought to herself.