A/N: So I started a longer piece. It won't be an epic, per say, but it's not a one shot. J I want to explain the ages really fast. Sansa, Dany, and Bronn are going into senior year of high school (about 17-18.) Jon, Theon, Robb, Randa, Margaery and Tyrion are going into college (18-19). The rest are about 20ish, with Drogo and Sandor being 21.

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Raynie

"Are you coming, or not?" Dany's clear voice rang out. Sansa quickly finished stuffing the last of her clothes into the duffel bag. Her heart was racing. She had never done something like this before. Her mother, if she were here, would be so upset. But Sansa was tired of being so proper all the time. She wanted to have some fun, get in some trouble, before it was time for college. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the bag and ran out the door.

"God! About fucking time!" Dany grabbed Sansa's bag and threw it into the van. Sitting in the driver's seat was Drogo. The passenger seat was occupied by Theon. They grinned at her.

"We've still got to pick up Randa. The others will be meeting us at the campsite," Drogo told her.

"Okay," she answered. As the van pulled away, she watched her house grow smaller and smaller. This was it. She was being a rebel. Letting out a shuddering sigh, she sat up straighter in her seat, unable to keep the adrenaline from coursing through her veins. School would just be getting out. Arya and Bran would come home and read her note and laugh in disbelief. Her mother and father would get home from work and Arya would tell them. They will be so angry, she thought, then giggled because she didn't care.

"I can't believe I'm doing this!" Sansa laughed. Theon laughed with her.

"I know! Dude, I remember you as a kid. You told on me and Robb anytime we did something even close to rebellious." His grin turned mocking. "What would Septa Mordane say? You're fresh out of Catholic school and here you are. Going camping with us. Oh no! You'll have to sleep near boys! Heaven forbid, you'll be drinking alcohol that hasn't been blessed? Will Jesus ever forgive you?"

Sansa threw a pillow at him, gasping for air. She was laughing hysterically, probably something to do with her excitement. Drogo pulled the van into Randa's drive way, where she stood waiting for them.

"Sansa! You actually came!" She shrieked. She jumped into the van, throwing her things sleeping bag the back. In her arms was a large purse. She reached into the purse and pulled out a bottle of Grey Goose to the cheers of the van's other occupants.

"Who's ready to part-ay!"

Sansa suddenly felt nervous. She'd never drank before. What if something happens to me, like I throw up on someone? She shuddered. That would be highly unladylike.

Everyone coming on the camping trip was already a seasoned veteran. Sansa was the only one who hadn't come before. She knew everyone through Dany and Robb. This was the group of kids that your parents didn't want you to hang out with. The drinkers and pot smokers. The party crowd. She could still see their surprised faces in her mind when she told them she was coming. Her own brother didn't believe it and he was the one who told her to go!

"Sansa, do you want some?" Dany held the bottle of vodka out to her. Sansa shook her head.

"I'll drink some later. Who all is coming anyway?"

Drogo started listing people off. "Well, there is us: Dany, me, Theon, you, and Randa. Then the other car has Robb, Jon, and Margaery. Shae and Ros will meet us there. They're going to bring Tyrion and Bronn. And finally Sandor will meet us there on his own. I think he's making a liquor run. Not that we need more."

Sansa's stomach lurched. Sandor. She didn't know how she felt, knowing that he would be there. Drunk, as well. They had talked before, but she never liked what he had to say. He spoke a dialect of brutal, painful honesty that never ceased to hurt her. With a few words, he shattered her, every single time. He obviously thought she was stupid, with the way he scoffed, yet when it came down to it, they always ended up seeking out each others company.

What did she think of him? Before her and Joffrey broke up, Sansa didn't see any other men. Sure she saw them, but she didn't really pay attention to them. Except Sandor. He was hard to miss, six foot seven with horrible scars on one side of his face. Who could miss him? He was Drogo's room mate and Joffrey's bodyguard. Every time she'd snuck out with Dany to hang out at Drogo's, Sandor was there to make her feel like a small innocent child being told Santa didn't exist for the first time, but his was the first face that she looked for. She found comfort in him, that much was obvious to her, but lately, she craved it. She craved him.

The van pulled up to the campsite and everyone helped unload all the supplies and tents. They would be out here for four days. Theon attempted to start opening up the alcohol, but Drogo told him no one got to drink more until the tents were set up.

"Remember last time?" The huge Dothraki man growled. Theon laughed. Sansa didn't know what happened last time, but it seemed everyone started working more diligently. Once the tents were set up, all five of them, they started the campfire. The food was put into the coolers and finally, they sat down, various drinks in hand.

Sansa stared into the alcohol cooler. She didn't know what any of the things were. She didn't know what she liked or didn't like. Deciding to play Russian Roulette with it, she reached out her hand to grab a random bottle. Mike's Hard Lemonade.

"Good choice, girl." And there he was. Leaning against a tree, arms crossed, beer in hand, head tipped. Sandor.

"Wh-what?" Sansa stuttered. She couldn't believe it. Out of all the times to get tongue tied, it had to be when talking to Sandor. The only person who could make her feel really bad for it.

"I said, it was a good choice. Christ, you deaf and stupid now?" He strode over to her, his long legs carrying him with grace. A person that large shouldn't have the poise he did. It could be because of his martial arts training. Sansa didn't know why she cared. He grabbed the bottle from her hands, twisted the top off and took a sip.

"Thanks," she said, lamely, as he handed the bottle back. She had been to busy staring at him. She tasted it, knowing his lips were just there. Her face burned as he watched her. He nodded, a smirk twisting his lips into a horrible grimace, the burned side of his face twitching.

"Hey, lovebirds! Will you guys help us unpack?" Ros's voice could be heard over a screaming crowd. In a music hall. During a rock concert. This girl was loud. She strutted over, breasts jiggling. She's not wearing a bra, Sansa realized. She looked at Sandor. From his expression, he obviously noticed as well.

"Ros!" Theon leapt up and hugged her, kissing her on both cheeks. Her lush lips curved into her signature smile.

"Will someone just help me?" Shae was struggling up the hill with their things. The girls had been responsible for food and condoms. Theon had said condoms as a joke, but sure enough, Sansa saw, one of the grocery bags was full of boxes of condoms. Drogo got up and helped them. Tyrion and Bronn trailed him up to the campsite.

"We bet the girls that we wouldn't be here last. If we won, we'd carry everything until the trip was over. If we lost, they had to," Tyrion explained as Bronn laughed at the girls. The chairs got set up around the campfire. Sansa sipped her lemonade. Surprisingly, it wasn't bad. Robb always told her that alcohol was bitter and disgusting, but the lemonade was quite delicious. Sandor drank from a bottle of vodka. A full one.

"Can I try that?" she blurted out to him. He barked his peculiar laugh and handed over the bottle. She could smell it before she even put it up to her mouth. As she poured a tiny bit into her mouth, she almost gagged, to Sandor's amusement. He roared with laughter as he took the bottle back from her. Her throat burned. Sansa sputtered and coughed, trying to clear the disgusting taste from the back of her throat. She quickly downed her lemonade.

Everyone was laughing at her. Sandor's laughter had drawn attention and there they were. Chuckling and snorting into their drinks. Laughing because the alcohol virgin couldn't handle a little bit of the "ol' voddy," as Ros called it. While they were teasing her, Robb's truck pulled up, bringing the rest of the campers. Naturally, they all headed for the alcohol.

"That's supposed to last us four days," Sandor growled.

Jon smiled. "We brought more. It'll last us four days. Trust me."

Sure enough, in the back of the pickup, next to Margaery, sat bottle after bottle of various drinks. Margaery climbed out, grumbling.

"You guys have better have brought some food too, or else," she threatened. Shea quickly showed her where the food was and Margaery sat down by the fire to roast marshmallows. And drink of course. Sansa grabbed another lemonade.

After the second one, Sansa started feeling the effects of the alcohol. She didn't want any more lemonade. She wanted to experiment. She wanted something stronger.

"Sandor," she said his name, marveling at how light her head felt. "Will you make me something stronger?"

His grey eyes bored into her soul. He wordlessly filled a cup up with some blue concoction some one had made at home.

"Fishbowl."

Sansa took a small drink. It was amazing. The flavors were sweet, but instead of hiding the taste of the alcohol, they actually complimented it. She drank larger gulps. Sandor laughed.

"Slow down, little bird. You don't want to drink that too fast. Ros made it. Who knows what's in that."

He wasn't kidding. She got halfway into the cup when she suddenly didn't feel good. At all. She stumbled into the woods, Sandor following her. She could hear the laughter and chatter as he held her hair. She imagined what they would say at the camp as the drinks came back up. Wiping, she asked for the rest of her drink. She drank it to get the taste out of her mouth.

Using Sandor as a crutch, she shuffled back to the camp. Theon and Ros were missing, as were Tyrion, Shae and Bronn. Sansa shuddered. She knew they would be in one tent together. She didn't know which one though. A though dawned on her.

"Where are we sleeping?" She asked.

Drogo answered. "Anywhere. Theon and Tyrion and them are in that tent." He pointed to an orange one. Sure enough, she could almost hear them in there. She thanked him, filled her cup and sat down next to Dany, who was slurring through a story about Petyr Baelish, a kid at school.

"And then he comes up to me and, get this, he comes up to me and says 'isn't your boyfriend like 50?'" She waved her arms dramatically. "I punched him in the fucking nutsack. Or where it would be if he had one."

"Petyr once told me my mom was a MILF!" Sansa blurted. Everyone laughed.

"Fuck Petyr," Drogo responded. "He's a fucking pervert. He'll probably die a virgin."

Randa spoke up. "Actually, I heard he had sex with that creepy Lysa chick."

Sandor chuckled, darkly. "Well, if I can get laid, so can he. Except apparently, I do better than him."

Margaery snorted. "Yeah, see, here's the thing. People actually like you, Sandor. As far as I know, you haven't told someone that their mom was a MILF."

Sandor eyed Sansa seriously. "Your mom is a MILF."

Robb roared with laughter before announcing "I'm fucking tired. I'm going to sleep. Fuck you all. Good night." He staggered off.

Sansa listened to them tell more Petyr stories as she drank more of the fishbowl. She suddenly observed that she wasn't sitting anywhere near Sandor. Now, why is that? Without announcement, she got up and moved to sit next to him on the log he was sitting by. She tripped and ended up a little closer than she meant, but was comfortable with it. Sandor wouldn't mind if she cuddled with him. She was getting cold after all.

"Sandor, hold me," she commanded. Her voice betrayed her drunkenness. He took the cup from her hand, despite her complaint.

"Well look at that, Sandy. You got a little fan girl." Jon's voice reverberated through Sansa's foggy mind.

"No more for you, if you drank so much that you want to cuddle with me." He drank the rest of her cup and threw the paper cup into the fire. She was getting tired. It was late, she could tell.

"Sandor, I'm sleepy," she murmured into his arm. She could feel her face was flushed. As she stood up, the ground tipped beneath her feet and she fell forward. Sandor caught her before the fell into the fire and his strong arms picked her up.

"I'm going to put this one to sleep, before she ends up looking like me," she heard him say. She simply nuzzled her head into his chest. He was so warm.

"Take care of my little sister!" Jon called out.

"Fuck you," Sandor growled. She could hear his smile.

She felt him unzip a tent and he rolled her in blankets.

"Stay with me," she whispered. She wrapped her arms around him, refusing to let him leave.

"Alright, little bird." He actually sounded a little drunk, she thought. She felt pleased when he pulled her close.

In Sandor's warm arms, Sansa Stark fell asleep.