A/N- This is a multichapter, Sansaery AU. Set in the universe of an HGTV reality show. I'm not quite sure how to explain it, but hopefully you'll enjoy.
"Margaery, no." Tyrion said, not even looking up from over the top of his laptop at the brunette seated beside him at the conference table.
"Margaery, yes." She shot back with a devious smirk. The Tyrell had been staring vacantly at the wall across from her for the last five minutes and with the little secretive smile on her face, it wasn't hard to guess what was going on in her head.
"Could you just keep it in your pants for one episode?" He sighed in exasperation.
Clegane scoffed at the mere concept. Of the three of them, tall man was the only one hard at work, skimming listings for their newest clients, "What about the four bedroom on Central?"
"It doesn't have enough bathrooms." Margaery didn't even have to check her laptop to know the specifics of the property. She reclined lazily in her chair, scanning an appraising glance about the conference room. It was a small space, just large enough to hold a table and six chairs, it had glass windows overlooking the rest of their modest office. Most of the work took place on location anyway so they hardly spent time in the building.
"We can always add bathrooms." Tyrion threw in.
"Not with that house." Margaery shook her head, "To add one on the top floor it would cut into the walk in closet off the master bedroom which Cersei wouldn't allow, and it's so old that running pipes for another on the second or basement would cost more than it's worth."
Tyrion looked to Clegane for confirmation, scowling when the man nodded that once again, Margaery was right. She always was. While Tyrion was the brains behind the whole operation, keeping the numbers in check, overseeing the houses they flipped, and dealing with the network execs and Sandor was the handyman, in charge of renovation crews and doing much of the work himself, Margaery was everything else. She was part realtor, part interior decorator, and most importantly, she was all charm, laying it on thick for the cameras, and always keeping the clients pleased. It was thanks to her that 'Fixer Upper: Westeros' was such a hit show- well her and the wonderful contrast between her bright smiles and Sandor's gruff personality.
She knew all the available listings in Westeros like the back of her hand.
"The old Victorian on Flea Bottom?" Clegane suggested.
"No, there's not nearly enough natural light, and Cersei wants open concept on the main floor." Margaery dismissed.
"Open concepts and natural light are just matters of knocking enough shit down." Sandor shrugged.
"Old Victorian." Margaery repeated back at him, "No way there's going to be enough structural support on the main to make that feasible."
Sandor quite nearly growled.
"Maybe you could look up some listings and contribute instead of scheming how to get into bed with the client?" Tyrion prodded.
Margaery cut him a glare, "I don't scheme."
"You're angling to sleep with a city councilman."
The Tyrell laughed short and dry, "First of all, I'm not angling, I'm planning meticulously and then I will execute. Second of all, I'm not after him, I'm going to sleep with his wife."
"Ranch house with the fountain in the yard on Downing Street?" Sandor cut in, doing a valiant attempt at staying on track.
"The backyard is too small and they've got dogs." Margaery frowned.
Tyrion dropped his head into his hands, "That's my sister."
"Well Robert would deserve it, he spent enough time looking down my shirt at the consultation." She defended.
"You could have done with doing up one more button on that shirt." Clegane muttered under his breath.
"What?" Margaery turned on him sharply, normally the tall man would stay out of it when Margaery and Tyrion would go in on these little spats. Now that he left his neutrality, Margaery zeroed in on him.
"You heard." he deflected, not the least bit cowed by Margaery's glare. He dropped his gaze back to the computer, "How about the one with the big corner yard on Kings Landing?"
"No, the fireplace prevents an open concept." Margaery frowned, then paused. Her eyes grew comically wide, "Wait! No, we take out the wall between the kitchen and formal dining room, leave the fireplace wall to make an entryway. Tear out most of the rear wall for natural light and access to a big deck we build for Robert." Margaery spoke quickly, reaching over to steal Sandor's laptop and scan over the blueprint, "Yea, that will work nicely."
It took nearly two more hours, but together they managed to put together a list of six potential homes to show to the Baratheons the following day.
The first three houses were shut down over what Margaery seethed were 'completely irrational reasons that could easily be fixed with a goddamn hammer and some paint' as she angrily pressed down on the accelerator. Tyrion shifted uneasily in the backseat, he still didn't know why they let Margaery drive when all three of them went places, the brunette always ranted about the clients and had a surprising streak of road rage which rendered most footage recorded on their dashboard camera unusable because of her swearing at other drivers. For what certainly wasn't the first (or tenth) time, Tyrion thanked the seven that they hadn't opted to get a car with the show logo on the side. He could only imagine the bad press they would get if someone ever realized it was the charming brunette from HGTV who tailgated them down highway nine.
"I'm sure they'll like one of the remaining houses." Tyrion tried to placate.
"They fucking better." Clegane grouched, when Margaery got on a roll, he usually joined, and it was left to Tyrion to try and turn the mood.
Luckily Margery was also aggressively professional, so the moment they were out of the car at the next listing she had a winning smile plastered across her face and was prattling on about curb appeal while Tyrion worked the lockbox.
...
"Told you the corner house was a winner." Sandor smirked from the passenger seat once the other five houses Margaery had selected were all shot down by Cersei.
"They just chose it because of the open concept I came up with for the first floor." She groused, aggressively changing lanes without the use of her blinker.
"Now now ladies, you're both pretty." Tyrion interjected.
Margaery flipped him off at the same time as Sandor groaned out 'bugger off' under his breath. Yes, everything was just as it should be.
…
Margaery parked crookedly on the drive and emerged from her Jeep with large sunglasses and two drink carrier trays from Starbucks. Tyrion clucked his tongue as he watched her walk up the drive, they were filming some set bits at the house before she would be cut loose to go out and start working her design magic. Sandor had disappeared somewhere in the house, already taking measurements and making notes in his perpetually present little black notebook.
"Thank you for gracing us with your presence." The Lannister teased as Margaery came up the drive.
"I'm five minutes early." She said, "And I brought coffee."
"Bless you." He accepted the cup graciously, taking a cautious sip and sighing when the strong taste swept across his tongue.
"Sandor?"
"Already playing." Tyrion gestured over his shoulder into the house.
Margaery disappeared in search of the tall man. Tyrion took a minute to soak in the relaxing morning before the project would begin in earnest.
Joining the rest of the crew inside, Tyrion found Margaery sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging her legs and sipping a large coffee. She appeared to be teasing a blushing Podrick while Sandor was tapping the wall, probably trying to determine the location of studs.
"Margaery, leave the poor boy alone." He chastised, he couldn't have her distracting the camera crew, or they would never get anything done.
"I'm not bothering him! Am I Pod?" She asked, putting on her best doe eyes.
"N-n-no. Course not." Podrick stammered out, his blush rising to the tips of his ears.
Tyrion rolled his eyes, "Sandor, put on your show face. I want these bits filmed in the next hour and then Marge, you're going to meet with a man about flooring, yes?"
"Yeah, that Bolton creep." The brunette confirmed, hopping off the counter and smoothing her hair back.
…
"I swear to the Stranger, if she vetoes one more of the wood samples I show her, I'm not even going to try and sleep with her anymore." Margaery fumed, dropping dramatically onto a low ladder in the demolished kitchen of the house.
Sandor was working on tearing up the old flooring while Tyrion idly sifted through contracting offers.
"They're all too light, or too knotted, or not knotted enough, or looks like something rotted." She continued, "I don't know how in the hell you grew up with the woman."
"Lots of arguing."
Clegane tossed some loosened floorboards over his shoulder in the general direction of his trash heap. A few splinters shot off and clipped Margaery's shoes, "Watch it over there." She called.
"You do realize this is a construction site, not a fuckin coffee shop." He grouched.
"If you swear, I can't use the footage." Podrick reminded them for what felt like the hundredth time from behind his shoulder camera.
"Just take out the sound and add it to a montage." Tyrion suggested.
The cameraman shook his head, "The entire show can't be an hour long montage."
…
"We need to rewire the entire top floor."
"Define need." Tyrion rubbed his temples.
Sandor's face was grim, "It's so far out of code, it's a wonder the whole house hasn't caught fire yet."
"Fuck." The short man cracked open his ledger book, "How much are we talking?"
"Enough that Marge is going to have to think twice about the marble tile she wants to put all over the master bath."
"You're breaking that news to her."
"Like hell I am." Clegane laughed, "And get an earful about how she designed the sink vanity around the tile, tying in the chrome accessories and some other flowery bullshit. No fucking way."
…
The phone call to break the news of the tile to Margaery went as well as could be expected. It was full of swearing and blaming Sandor and a lecture on the importance of building a room around a feature like tile and how she would have to completely redesign the bathroom. It ended with her saying how it would be a 'fucking miracle if I can get Cersei to agree to a different tile'.
…
"Is the master bathroom safe to walk through?" Margaery asked on a conference call one evening halfway through the project.
"Safe enough, it's bare backerboard on the floor, so your shoes will get dusty as hell but you should be fine." Sandor commented through grunts. He was still at the house, working late into the night on reframing some windows and talking through a bluetooth headset.
"Good, and when do you think you'll be out of there?"
"Bout an hour."
"Great."
"Margaery, what are you doing?" Tyrion asked.
"Just wanted to look at some tile samples since I can't have my marble." The Tyrell sounded far too innocent, and Tyrion knew enough to be suspicious.
"Sure."
…
The next morning, Margaery's smile was far too wide, and the extra pep in her step when she walked through the house to direct the men delivering cabinets was a dead giveaway. She had gotten laid the night before.
"Tell me you didn't." Tyrion frowned.
"Cersei and I came to an agreement on the tile."
Sandor laughed loudly, "Screwed her into submission did you?"
Tyrion's sigh of, "My sister." was lost to Margaery's much louder chuckle, "I just made her an offer she couldn't refuse." The wink at the end of her statement left her and Clegane laughing while Tyrion just did his very best to banish the image of Margaery convincing his sister of anything.
…
Two weeks later found them at the end of yet another Fixer Upper. As was their tradition, Sandor, Margaery, and Tyrion celebrated finishing the project with a six pack in the completed home.
They lounged on the kitchen floor, leant against appliances and the newly built island. Podrick had been invited to join them for the first time, he had been with them from the beginning of the show, and felt like their collective little brother.
"God this granite looks great with the backsplash." Margaery congratulated herself, wraping her pretty pink lips delicately around the top of her bottle.
"I don't really like the dark countertops." Sandor appraised it critically.
"You have butcher block counters in your house." Margaery said it as though that proved everything.
"I like butcher block counters." Pod blushed into his drink.
…
Margaery was in a dress with the neckline somewhat lower than was absolutely necessary, and even Sandor was in a nice button up for the final filmed walk through.
"And here, you can see we took out most of this back wall and replaced it with glass so you have a great view and all this beautiful natural light." The Tyrell was in full realtor mode, selling the couple on their new home.
"It's just stunning." Robert commented, his eyes on Margaery's cleavage rather than the back wall.
The brunette giggled girlishly, playing her part well, and all the while making eye contact with a glaring Cersei.
When they finished the walk through, and the cameras went off, Cersei pulled Margaery aside for a private thank you, "I just wanted to talk with you about the master bath again. I'm not in love with the brushed chrome finish on the taps and want your opinion should we ever decide to swap them out." The blonde explained, her eyes were far too serious ot just be thinking about bathroom fixtures as she took Margaery's hand and practically dragged the younger girl upstairs, leaving the men to chat.
"You've done a great job here." Robert offered, his usual jovial smile in place, cheeks ruddy from the exertion of walking the whole home.
"Well the house had good bones." Sandor replied.
They made awkward stilted conversation for about fifteen minutes until Margaery reappeared- alone now- at the top of the stairs. She wasn't ruffled in the slightest, and had her best television smile plastered across her face as she bid a final farewell to Robert, allowing him to pull her into a tight hug and kiss her lingeringly on the cheeks.
"What did Cersei want?" Tyrion asked, once they were all piled back in the SUV.
"She was just giving me a personal thank you." A crooked smile gave her away, "Her oldest son and his fiance are looking to get a home and she wants them on the show."
"That's all?" Sandor clearly didn't believe her.
"That's all." She echoed. Margaery's head whipped around to shout at a passing car as she changed lanes quickly, and her long hair flew off her shoulder revealing a bright red mark on her neck.
"Is that lipstick?" The tall man already knew the answer, but wouldn't pass up the opportunity to bring Margaery's deviant behavior to light.
She brought up a hand and rubbed at the mark, her fingers came away clean and her smirk grew, "No, not lipstick. Must be a hickey."
"Gods." Tyrion muttered.
…
They met with Joffrey and his fiance early the next week, and it was one of the most grating consultations they had ever done. They were used to couples disagreeing on things with their dream homes and having to work out compromises to accommodate differing tastes, but they had never had anything quite like Joffrey and Sansa.
Margaery started them off with the style of house, Sansa loved historic- an old Victorian or colonial home while Joffrey wanted more modern- midcentury, ranch style. Once Joffrey contradicted Sansa's opinion, she caved.
"Are you sure, I'm sure we can find a house that would suit both of your preferences." Margaery frowned at how easily Sansa folded to Joffrey's will.
"No, that's fine. I'm not very attached to the style." Sansa quickly deflected, sneaking small sidelong glances at her fiance.
"Okay." Margaery made a small note on her legal pad, "What about floor plan?"
"I'd love an open concept, especially from the kitchen to the living space. I spend a lot of time cooking so it would be nice not to be closed off like it is in our current place." Sansa's eyes lit up as she talked about her dream home.
"I don't like open concepts." Joffrey cut in, "The one in mother's new place is awful." Margaery's smile became even more forced as he talked about the floor plan she had designed, "It's just so much wasted space."
"I suppose you're right." Sansa dimmed, her eyes were downcast into her lap. Her hands idly twisting her engagement ring around her finger.
Tyrion and Sandor shared a look.
The rest of the consultation continued in much the same manner, and when they bid the couple goodbye, Margaery's notes were an angry scribble. The brunette's eyes were nothing short of scary when they were finally alone in the conference room.
"That man is an ass."
"Not my best nephew." Tyrion conceded.
"He's awful and doesn't deserve her."
At that, Tyrion's brows rose, "Margaery, no!"
"Margaery, yes!" She shot back, "This is different! This isn't just some one night stand for fun. Sansa deserves better than that pathetic excuse of a man, you saw how she made herself smaller for him. It's such bullshit." Margaery paused for a moment, eyes dropping to her notes, "And he has awful taste!"
"She has a point." Sandor reluctantly agreed, "You know that's not what a healthy relationship looks like."
The Lannister sighed, "You can't honestly tell me you're planning to break up a couple we're renovating a house for." Margaery's lips tucked up in the corner, "You're killing me."
"I have to!" The brunette cried in defense.
A/N- More to come soon. I couldn't resist a little Margaery/Cersei action, they would be an awful couple, but I can't help but think they still have some chemistry. From here on out it's going to be Margaery and Sansa finally getting together.
