This is my first fic in the ASOIAF/GoT fandom. After reading ridiculous amounts of Sansan fanfiction, I've decided to dip my toe into the fandom waters with this short(ish), light fic which is a Modern AU which is set in Sydney, because, why not?. I'm a big, big fan of some good old smut, so there will be some in future chapters. I don't know how long it will be as I seem pathologically unable to write short fics, but I'm aiming to keep it somewhat short.

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

It was a hot, stinking Sydney summer's day when he first walked into Sansa Stark's little café.

Impossibly tall, muscles severely straining the stitching on the utilitarian t-shirt he wore and dark shorts covering his taught, tight behind. Below the shorts, his tanned, hairy, oak-like thighs tapered down to his muscled calves before ending in scuffed, dirty, steel-capped boots.

Sansa, standing behind the counter taking another order, looked up to see the new customer walk in and quickly did a double-take.

His sheer size caught her initial interest which then moved to his face. To her internal shock, her first glance took in the severe burn scars on the left side of his face, sympathy for how much that must have hurt filling her. Then she admired the rest of his rugged face, the grey eyes, strong brow and longish black hair that was currently tied back in a man-bun, in deference to the heat. All in all, quite an attractive face, despite the scars.

Then she looked down, eyes widening as she took in the rest of him, liking it very, very much but it was when she saw what he wore at his waist, that she was lost. Well and truly lost.

He wore a tradesman's belt, slung low over his hips, almost like a sword belt from medieval days, various tools hanging from it.

Sansa accidentally sent the completed milkshake order that Margaery had just placed next to her flying, milk spraying over the counter and floor, narrowly missing the milkshake's owner.

Holy hell! This guy was the sexiest man she'd ever seen and that tool belt had her melting like an ice-cream out on the bitumen pavement.

The saying that 'tradies get the ladies' definitely applied in this instance, Sansa feeling hot and cold chills run through her body as pure lust seized her.

"Sansa!" Margaery's voice broke the spell. Their employee and friend, Jeyne, rushed back from clearing a table to help clean up the mess.

Sansa looked up and blushed tomato red when she saw the slight smirk on the stranger's face as he watched her clumsiness. Like that goes really well with my red hair, she lamented to herself.

"I'm so sorry," Sansa quickly apologised to the customer, ignoring Margaery's quizzical look as her friend re-made the ill-fated milkshake. She took up the cloth under the counter to mop up the milk just as the tradesman stepped up to place his order.

It was like the electrons in her brain decided to take the rest of the day off as she stood there, unable to decide whether to clean the mess or take his order first, her eyes straying to the tool belt, unable to miss how well he filled out the front of his shorts.

"Clean up the mess first, miss. I'll wait," he rasped, the sound of his voice, like rock grinding on rock, sending further shivers up her spine. It was so low and throaty, with it's Scottish accent almost a growl and it seriously did things to her system.

Talk Sansa! Take his order, you idiot!

"It…" her voice came out in a high squeak as she looked at his face, her eyes naturally going straight to the scars, which this close up looked almost like plastic before meeting his eyes, that had narrowed in either annoyance or anger. Cheeks reddening again, she cleared her throat and attempted to sound like a moderately intelligent adult. "It's ok. I'll take your order first. I'm sorry about my clumsiness."

"Stop apologising, girl. Shit happens," he replied harshly before asking for a double-shot espresso to take away.

Jeyne had started wiping down the counter, so Sansa nodded her thanks as she moved to the coffee machine. As she worked, she'd look up, see his eyes on her and blush again. After what seemed like forever, she placed his coffee on the counter and put a lid on it. His large hand dwarfed the small cup as he picked it up, nodded his thanks and turned to leave the café.

Sansa just stood there and watched his taut behind as he moved, the tools swaying with each step. She couldn't help the sigh that left her as he exited the doorway, wondering if he would ever come back. Probably not, after that display of hers.

"What was that about?" murmured Margaery as Sansa turned to help Jeyne with the clean up.

"Nothing," replied Sansa, not meeting her friend's eyes. "Just me being clumsy."

Margaery looked at her speculatively. "It didn't have anything to do with that big guy, did it? It's a shame about the face but that body…whew!"

Her words annoyed Sansa, who felt stupidly possessive and protective about some guy she'd probably never see again. "I didn't really notice," she said with fake nonchalance.

"Yeah, I'm sure you didn't," teased Margaery. "You could not get your eyes off his toolbelt…or what was beneath it."

Sansa blushed bright red again. "Shut up, Marge," she mumbled as she moved past her, ostensibly to clear a table but mostly to get away from her friend's knowing chuckle, knowing how much Margaery hated that nickname.

After closing up that afternoon, Sansa climbed the stairs to the apartment she rented from Margaery's family which happened to be above the café.

She had met her friend when they were both students at Sydney University. Sansa had not long moved to Sydney from the southern highlands where her family owned 'Winterfell', a large property outside of Bowral and was living with her cousin, Jon, who was a police officer, hoping to become a detective one day. Margaery came from a prominent Sydney family and they met in the same class, hitting it off right away.

It wasn't long into the semester that Sansa came to the realisation that her goal to gain a political science degree was more her father's wish than hers. She continued on, though, while working at a boutique café near the campus. She didn't need the money, strictly speaking, as her father was quite generous with an allowance but she enjoyed the freedom that her own money gave her, knowing she could do what she wanted with it, without answering to anyone as she had earned it herself.

By the end of the year she was missing more classes than she was attending, preferring to take extra shifts at the café, with the subsequent consequences. She would have to take summer classes to make up the shortfall, she was informed, if she wanted to be able to continue the following year.

She confessed to Margaery that she got more enjoyment at the café, interacting with ordinary people, than she ever did mixing with the upper class friends her family had and the thought of dealing with the intrigue and backstabbing of the political world made her ill. She had had a taste of it with her boyfriend in high school, Joffrey Baratheon, who, despite attending one of the most prestigious boys' schools in Sydney, turned out to be a complete arsehole. After he hit her the first time, she had told her family, who promptly cut off their association with the Baratheon's, after they tried to make out that Sansa had goaded him into it.

When Margaery asked her what she wanted to do with her life instead, Sansa admitted that she would love to have her own café, serving the best coffee and delicious food, that people would come back to because of the friendly, welcoming atmosphere.

Expecting her friend to laugh at her dream, saying that she was too high-class for something like that, she was shocked when Margaery admitted that it sounded like a lot of fun and that they should just bite the bullet and do it. Margaery had her own trust fund and was willing to go halves with the business.

After that, they both decided to drop out of uni and enroll in a Small Business course to begin in the New Year. In the meantime, they would work on deciding the kind of café they wanted to have and how to tell their respective families of their decision.

Christmas back at Winterfell was decidedly tense when Sansa told her parents what she had done, particularly with her mother, Catelyn, who thought such a venture was beneath her. Her father, Ned, was worried she hadn't thought it all through properly and this was just a whim that would peter out eventually.

The arguments and discussions carried on over the Christmas period but eventually her parents relented when they realised how serious Sansa was and when they saw the preliminary work she and Margaery had already done with regards to their vision for their business. Catelyn was still skeptical but acquiesced in the face of the rest of the family's support.

Arya, her younger sister, thought it was a great idea and offered to help design the layout. She was going to study graphic arts in the new year and figured this would make a great project for her course. Sansa thanked her for the offer and said that they would certainly look at it in more depth when they found a location.

In between studying, planning and scouting for a good location, the months flew by. The girls looked over much of Sydney, before settling on a property that was owned by Margaery's family. It was in the gentrified suburb of Balmain, which was now a popular place for people looking for diverse eateries with a relaxed atmosphere.

The property was built of Sydney sandstone which had been renovated and held a good size area opening out onto the sidewalk and was close to the bus route, meaning it would be handy for people to stop in to pick up a drink or snack on the way to work.

For Sansa, the clincher was the fact that there was a fully renovated apartment over the shop, accessed by stairs at the side of the property. She fell in love with it as soon as she saw it. It was light and airy, very important with the Sydney humidity, and had large windows with a view to Sydney Harbour, the famous bridge in the distance. The two bedrooms were a good size with an ensuite to the master. The main bathroom had its own claw-footed bathtub, in keeping with the colonial style of the area and Sansa almost squealed when she saw it. The modern kitchen and the living area which led to small balcony through French windows sealed the deal. She could imagine herself coming upstairs after a long day in the café, sitting on the balcony with a cool drink and good book, the blue waters of the harbor shimmering in the distance.

With her father's attorney, Jory Cassell, doing the legal work for her, she and Margaery took up the lease on the property, Sansa additionally leasing the apartment.

When the two girls opened the shop door with their new keys for the first time, they walked into the empty space, grabbed each other's shoulders, and jumped around like lunatics in their excitement, their laughs echoing off the brick and timber walls.

After that, it was nearly three months of work to fit it out according to their vision. As promised, Arya had come up with a design that incorporated their personalities with the period style of the building and area, leaving a space that was warm and welcoming. The local council encouraged the use of the sidewalks for seating, promoting a café culture, so they had seating outside, except in the most inclement of weather. Inside was a mix of tables as well as nooks with sofas and comfy chairs for those who wanted a place to relax and chat with their friends. Arya designed their menu board and her metal-smith boyfriend created some unique pieces to add to the décor, including their light fittings.

She had also introduced her friends Hotpie and Lommy who had just completed their culinary course. Hotpie, Sansa just shook her head at the nickname, was a whizz at any type of pastry or sweets while Lommy preferred the chef side of things, whipping up dishes that Ayra raved about.

Sansa and Margeary debated over the wisdom of hiring them, with so little experience under their belts, but after tasting their food, they realised that they were all inexperienced and that they would learn together. Hotpie didn't actually want to work in the café; instead, he supplied all their bread, pastries and desserts each morning, delivering them before the doors opened. Lommy did work with them, designing the menu as well as cooking the food. The girls agreed to hire help for him if it became necessary, depending on the success of their venture.

Now, nearly a year after opening, the business was doing well enough to hire help for Lommy and had built up a reputation with the locals as a welcoming place to meet up that served good food and great coffee.

Shucking off her shoes, Sansa grabbed a leftover salad from her fridge and a glass of juice before making herself comfortable on her balcony, enjoying the sea-breeze that was beginning to spring up, easing some of the day's heat.

As she ate, her thoughts drifted off to the hunk of a tradesman that had caused her to act like a complete klutz in front of him. Sansa moaned in remembered embarrassment. She supposed that if she never saw him again, it wouldn't matter but that thought made her vaguely depressed.

"Stop being such an idiot," she mumbled to herself. "He's probably married or something even if he does come back. You see plenty of good-looking men each day."

But none had ever caused the type of reaction the big man, with his sexy tool belt had given her. She giggled as she imagined the come-on lines she would like to use on him if he ever came into the café again:

Is that a hammer in your tool belt or are you just happy to see me?

Can I hold your spanner for you?

Is that measuring tape long enough for you?

I really need a screw…driver.

Shaking her head, Sansa picked up her stock inventory list, firmly pushing the ridiculous thoughts from her head with some work.