Sansa Stark isn't quite Sansa Stark. She's a bit of everyone, really; a bit of her first love, a bit of the man who stole her innocence and a bit of her first victim. She's layers upon layers of different people and a complicated mess that no one could even begin to understand, unravel or peel away. She finds it extremely easy to fill the role of another human being to get her job done, finds it easy to steal a bit of that persona and let it influence her imagination when she thinks up the next identity.
Jaime Lannister is predictable; nothing can be hidden from the public when your father is the owner of the largest company in the world, and you the heir.
Despite his attraction to older, sterner women, Jaime has a kink for pretty young things and Sansa- Alayne is one of them.
She dances and twirls and laughs around the classy club, feeling his green eyes following the sway of her hips and the length of her legs and when she settles down at the bar and orders herself a drink he's not too far behind.
She's charming and sweet and she pushes down her disgust for this persona while she woes and touches his arm and looks away shyly.
"You're beautiful." He whispers against her stomach, and she arches her back and her pleasure isn't faked. His climax builds and his words become incoherent and at the end of the night, when he's worn down and snoring softly, and she's downloading the information from his phone onto a memory stick, she praises herself with a job well done.