A/N: Right on the heels of my new SanSan one-shot collection, here comes one for Arya and Jaqen. This first chapter is a modern AU, and everything is pretty easy to understand. Nothing too complex. Although, there is a brief reference to whatever the heck happened with Gendry and Melisandre in whichever season of Game of Thrones. I will take requests, by review or PM if you feel so inclined.

Disclaimer: A Song of Ice and Fire and its characters belong to George R. R. Martin, not me, unfortunately.

"Why couldn't you just be more like your sister?"

And that's what did it. Two minutes after that exasperated question, spoken in anger, and she was out the door, skipping down the front steps as it slammed shut behind her.

"Arya! Arya Lyanna Stark, you get back here!"

She knew what she would see if she turned back: a very flustered Catelyn Stark in the entryway, hands on her hips and lips pursed in disappointment.

"We are not done with this conversation."

Oh, yes we are. So incredibly done.

Tossing a raised middle finger over her shoulder and smirking at her mother's scandalized gasp, Arya turned the bend, disappearing from sight.

Hopefully, she would have at least a twenty-four hour head start. Assuming that Catelyn would think that she'd come back home by then as she always had before. This time though, she didn't have Gendry to keep her tethered to this shitty town, so she had no plans to come back. This time, there wasn't anybody to talk her down, so she would just keep walking. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could get a ride somewhere far away. Maybe the coast. Warm weather sounded pretty inviting right about now.

Digging a half-burnt cigarette from the pocket of her shorts, she lit it with a flick of her thumb and slid it between her lips, inhaling the comforting tang of cheap tobacco before blowing it out in a heavy sigh. Of course, it was the cigarettes that had started this whole damned mess. That and the alcohol. And when Robb had come home early to find her sprawled across the couch with Gendry's head between her thighs.

Hence, 'why couldn't you be more like your sister?'. Because somehow, Catelyn was ignorant about how Sansa spent her evenings at Sandor's apartment, yet knew every little detail about her younger daughter's less-than-stellar personal life, and hadn't let up any even after she had caught Gendry with some older, busty redhead and dumped his sorry ass. If anything, Mother Stark had been even more watchful lately, as if she thought Arya would go drown herself in alcohol to cope with the break up. Bastard wasn't even worth wallowing over.

By the time she had forcefully derailed her train of thought, she was already a good six blocks away from the large Stark mansion and allowed herself to slow from a light jog to a steady walk. Thankfully, the weather wasn't as cold as it had been lately, and she wasn't uncomfortable in her light leather jacket and shorts. Come nightfall though, the temperature wouldn't be as friendly.

God, she couldn't believe her mother had actually said that. Surely, by now, Catelyn had her foot stuck so far in her mouth it was practically coming out her ass, but still, she had said it. And at least for that one second, she had meant it.

If only that bastard who had run the red light had paid attention, she would've had Ned to keep her grounded, and Arya would've had the father and older brother who had always understood her when no one else did. Now, since Jon had left for the even farther north, she only had her overbearing mother, perfect, prissy sister, and two brothers who were still too young to understand why she spent so much time away from her family.

The sound of an approaching car caught her attention and she quickly dropped her cigarette, grinding it beneath the toe of her boot in case it was a policeman on her tail. Instead, it was an innocuous Ford compact; definitely not from her neighborhood. It didn't slow as it drove past her, but she casually stuck up a thumb as it went by and she heard the squeal of brakes as it slowed to a stop beside the road a few yards ahead.

A few seconds later, she was beside it again and she cocked an eyebrow at the tinted window that met her gaze. Slowly, it rolled down, and she shoved her hands in her pockets. "You got any room?"

The driver appraised her for a moment from behind his sunglasses then nodded and leaned across the passenger seat to open the door closest to her. "Sure."

He took off again as soon as she had the door closed behind her and a few minutes passed in silence before Arya cleared her throat and stuck out a hand.

"Arya Stark."

The driver turned and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a habit of accepting rides from strangers, Arya Stark?"

She ignored him and dropped her hand back into her lap. "What's your name?"

He laughed quietly, turning his gaze back to the road. "Jaqen H'ghar."

Arya nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. "Now we're not strangers."

He laughed again and shook his head in amusement. "Very well."

They lapsed into silence again, and Arya sighed heavily, watching the scenery through the window as they drove toward the highway.

"Where are we going?"

Jaqen shrugged, absently flexing his fingers where they rested against the gear shift. "I haven't decided yet."

"You don't have anywhere you need to be?"

His eyes shifted to meet her gaze. "I could ask the same question."

At that, Arya looked away again, chewing on her bottom lip and toying with a string on her cutoff shorts. "But I asked it first."

He smirked again. "Then no. I don't have anywhere I need to be. I'm between jobs at the moment."

"What kind of jobs?"

"You ask a lot of questions, Arya Stark," he countered, turning off the road that led into her neighborhood and merging onto the highway.

Scowling at his blatant evasion, she crossed her arms more tightly and settled deeper into her seat. "Just trying to make conversation." Her scowl deepened when he chuckled in amusement and she pulled another cigarette out of one of her jacket pockets, lighting up and cracking the window so she could tap her ashes onto the road.

"Aren't you a little young to be smoking?"

Arya laughed bitterly. "Yes. Too young for smoking, and drinking, and fucking, but plenty old enough to be a complete disappointment."

Jaqen's gaze shifted from the road at her outburst and he cocked an eyebrow. "So what, am I harboring a fugitive?"

This time, her laugh was genuine and she sighed heavily before shaking her head and curling her legs up onto the seat. "No. Not a fugitive. Just a runaway."

"Mm. A girl after my own heart."

Arya looked over at him, curiosity piqued. "What are you running from?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. Everything. Still trying to find a place where I belong, if there is one." A companionable silence fell between them as they each lost themselves in their own thoughts, but he broke it again when the road split before them. "So, Arya Stark. Where to?"

She looked both ways, then turned to her new companion with a wide and carefree grin. "East."