I've read a lot of SanSan, and while I don't claim to be an expert, I do find myself very irritated by how OOC or horribly melodramatic they all wind up. Here's my take on a story of this pairing. Hope it works out.

Come to the Godswood tonight, if you want to go home.

She had been so certain it was a trap. And yet, Ser Dontos trembled, so humbly, and gave her such pretty words. Did she dare hope? Could this ruin of knight be the Florian she prayed for, for true? She lie on her bed, pondering. Ser Dontos's broken veins and soft skin spoke to her of age and weakness only, He was further crippled by his love of drink. The stinging of foolishness crept across her cheeks, and her heart fell. Why, of all knights or fools, was Ser Dontos her only true friend?

The city was not quiet below, but the cries of pain that embellished the wind only an hour before were fewer, farther between. Had the killing stopped? Sansa held her breath to listen, though she could hardly bare the sounds of death, but her ears instead found the sound of a trudging and unsteady gait. Sansa's breath did not return to her for a moment, as her head filled with visions of ghosts or wounded men, coming to find her, all with the eyes of Illyn Payne. Her doorknob shivered.

"Little Bird, open up." Sandor Clegane's voice was more sober than it was the last time she heard it. She exhaled in relief, only to find her fear of ghosts replaced by new ones. The trouble she must be in for him to summon her at this hour. Her only comfort was that Joff's voice, or any others, had yet to declare presence. She slipped a robe over her night clothes and granted him entry.

For a moment, he simply stood outside her door. His hair fell lank across the burned side of his face, his mouth set like stone and his shoulders tensed. He glared at her in a cold fury. His eyes, his frightening eyes, chilled her blood. He entered and spoke with a low urgency.

"You little fool. I believe you have a bird's mind for true. How could you have been so careless?" He had his hands on her upper arms, his face inches from hers, his back bent like an elbow to peer into her eyes. He plainly wanted to shout at her, but seemed to be fighting to keep his fury contained, a battle only made fiercer by the effects of the drink that still clouded him slightly. Sansa tried to back away. "I haven't any idea- I don't- I don't know what-" she tried to speak.

"Shut up, shut up!" he hissed. "Your feeble lies will do you no good, do you understand me? A stutter will only buy you time for so long before the king decides to silence you for good!"

Sansa felt her face twist in an effort not to cry. "What have you come here for, to terrify me?" She tried to sound strong, the way Arya might have said it.

"No, but you seem keen to terrify me, girl. Did the honorable Lord Stark never once teach you not to trust a drunk? Have you forgotten the king's name day? He could expose his cock to the king himself, you believe that Dontos will do better with your secrets? Your life?" the Hound shook her body in place of gesticulating his occupied hands. Tears slipped down her whitened cheeks. "Please ser, I haven't the faintest-" but she could not finish; Sansa lost her words to sobs.

The Hound's voice dropped lower, and while the fury remained, he revealed a hint of pity. "I may not be able to protect you always, when your tongue betrays you, but I try to spare you the worst of the king's wrath. I do more for you than Dontos could dream of." He released her. "You need a killer to survive an escape, and no 'ser' could do the job. You'd find Dontos fucked to death by a long sword the moment the Kingsguard or Watch caught wind of what he was trying, and you would be fucked to death by Joffrey and whatever men he tossed you out for. Believe that."

He sat on the edge of her bed and allowed his breath a moment to return to him. "I hadn't known you had the courage to escape." Sansa was too frightened to speak, she wordlessly shook her head as if to protest a fact she simultaneously admitted. His face fell into his hands, as though it were too pregnant with thoughts to stay up. Finally, he groaned in a half-whine and said almost loudly "Have it your way, girl, and leave tonight. But just allow ME to be your escort. I'd rather not have to see that pretty head of yours eaten by the birds before you could sing for me."

Sansa grasped for her senses. "How did you know?"

"About what, Dontos the fool? This castle has eyes everywhere; some that watch you are friendly, some are not. Not even your little garden is safe. Be grateful to those gods of yours that it was I who found you, so you could rehearse your lies before running into a less friendly knight." He seemed to snort in spite of himself. "You are a far worse liar to me than the others. But, a dog can smell a lie, as I told you."He looked up at her, his eyes lost some of their anger, but looked desperate to get moving. Forgetting her fear, she stared back. The Hound seemed to forget something as well.

"Are we going or not?"He barked finally.

"Can you be sure we won't be caught?" she asked breathlessly. She had prayed for a knight; the gods delivered a fool and a dog. She decided to place her trust in the latter. Sansa thought of Ser Donto's jiggling neck skin, somewhat like a rooster's. The thought was nearly comical when she looked at the Hound's neck. The muscles stood out like those on a skinned beast.

"No." He replied. "But I can be sure you won't be hurt." He brandished his sword, and his face was less fearsome when he wore that look of confidence, but Sansa was quiet. "I have a mind to leave. Never knew a little bird who forgot how to chirp. I'd have thought you would have done anything for another view of Winterfell."

That made Sansa's mind up. She had been abused in court, she had been treated like little more than a flea on a cat. Reckless abandon stole through her; if the Hound wished to harm me, could it truly be worse than this life I have come to know?

"We leave tonight." Sansa uttered the agreement. "My life is in your hands." He hadn't given her an oath, but she knew he wouldn't have. The Hound's lip twitched then unfolded into a wide smile.

"So the little bird isn't so craven as she seems."