A/N: Be sure to read the prologue! It helps layout the world building as well as the larger plot outside of SanSan.


Chapter 1

March 2020—one year later

Sansa

She was just stepping out of the bathroom after finishing her makeup and getting her coat when her phone buzzed for the fifth time in as many minutes.

HURRY UP

7:55am

I'll be right out

7:55am

Gods, you're as bad as my sister.

Senators don't care if your hair

is perfect if you're not ready with

coffee.

7:56am

Do you need a cup?

I can make you one

7:56am

NO JUST GET THE FUCK

OUT HERE

7:57am

Just a minute

7:57am

Stop with the emojis and just

get out here

7:58am

Please?

7:59am

Sansa sighed. Joff was in a mood already. She grabbed her coffee mug, the other mug from her Keurig along with her keys and the two packed lunch bags, opened the door and locked it, and strode down to the waiting black Escalade.

"Morning!" she said brightly, handing the coffee and a lunch bag to Joffrey.

"Took you long enough," he scowled.

"Ah, she's quick for a lady, Sir," the driver, Bronn, chuckled. "Even brought you coffee and a lunch!"

"That I didn't even ask for," Joffrey grumbled under his breath.

"You always complain that you never have time to meet me for lunch when I invite you, so I thought we could eat in your office," Sansa smiled. "Jeyne is always so busy with Congressman Bolton that she rarely has time to meet me."

"I wonder why," Joffrey rolled his eyes.

Sansa bit her lip and fell silent, watching the morning traffic all moving toward the Hill. She left her hand lying on the middle seat hoping Joffrey would take it. After a minute, he sighed and took her hand in his.

Agent Clegane chuckled from the font seat. "Keep your woman happy, Sir."

"What would you know, Dog?" Joffrey glared. "Beltway whores and politicians' daughters are entirely different."

"You don't know Daenerys Targaryen," the Hound chuckled darkly.

"No, I heard she went to Harvard," Joff smirked and glanced at Sansa. She laughed appropriately for a Yale legacy dating a fellow Yale legacy. "See, Hound? Sansa gets it."

"Miss Stark knows what to chirp, just like a Little Bird," Clegane replied. He fell silent again.

Sansa blushed at his reference to her Secret Service nickname. The rest of the Second Family were all some variation of Wolf, but Sansa had been Little Bird even before her father had run as President Baratheon's vice presidential candidate. Clegane was regularly in Joffrey's detail, and it had been he who had given her the moniker.

Bronn pulled up to the gate surrounding Sansa's building. He flashed his badge, and the guard waved them through. A quick peck from Joffrey, and she stepped out of the Escalade when Agent Clegane opened it for her.

"See you later!" she waved. All she got in reply was the usual growl from Clegane and a honk from Bronn. After they drove away, her phone buzzed.

Thanks for the coffee.

8:55am

She smiled as she stepped into the elevator and rode up to her floor. It was just the stress of the job that had put him in such a mood this morning.


Sandor

Well Simba was certainly in a mood this morning. He kept scowling the entire way to his office. Sandor followed at his usual distance until they stepped into the elevator.

"It's a good thing she's pretty and her father runs the country," Joffrey grumbled. He opened the zipper of the lunch bag and peaked inside. "Rabbit food, of course."

Sandor said nothing. He wasn't paid nearly well enough to offer commentary.

"I mean, would you eat this?" Joffrey thrust the lunch bag into his chest.

"I wouldn't turn my nose up at a woman offering to make my lunch," Sandor growled. Forever the bachelor thanks to his burn scars and horrible personality to match, he'd never been with a woman long enough for her to become domestic.

"Take it then," Joff said, letting go of the lunch bag, "I don't need a lunch bag like I'm six years old."

Sandor shrugged and zipped the bag closed. Congressional cafeteria food was terrible anyway.

The elevator dinged, and they stepped out. Margaery Tyrell was already at her desk picking at her nails.

"Good morning, Sir," she stood and smiled coyly.

"Good morning, Margaery," Joff said, puffing out his chest. "What's on the docket today?"

She rattled off a list of committee meetings and conference calls. Sandor settled into his chair outside Joff's office. It would be a long day sitting on his ass or standing on his stiff leg.

He'd joined the agency not long after Robert Baratheon had been elected. He spent a few months on Joff's detail up in Connecticut and later on the campaign trail before settling down in Washington after the 2018 election. Joff's district was in Connecticut, but like many congressmen, he was rarely there, preferring the White House or the Lannister penthouse suite downtown.

Still, secret service details for the oldest First Son were a far cry from getting blown up in Iraq or Afghanistan. He'd been medically discharged from the Corps after one too many convoy attacks. After leaving Quantico, he used his GI bill at UMBC and then it was off to FLETC followed by an appointment to a federal agency.

Honestly it didn't really matter what he did after he got out, but civil service was easy enough for veterans to get hired on with. All he knew is that he was never going back home. The old man had drunk himself to death a few years back. Gregor never came back either, but he was working for one of those private military companies in Iraq after getting a shady discharge from the Army. Rumor was that it had been an offense worthy of a court martial, but Tywin Lannister had stuck his neck out for the son of an old Army buddy.

Those bastards had approached Sandor, but he wasn't having any of it. He'd sooner beg for re-enlistment. There was no honor in being a private soldier. Semper fi, oorah, all that. He might've let his high and tight grow out so he could cover his scars, but once a marine, always a marine.

With nothing to do inside a federal office building, he let his mind wander. His therapist, Brother Ray, was trying to coach him in mindfulness. Sandor thought it was a load of crap, but he did try. Unfortunately, it seemed like today he couldn't shake the image of long red hair and bright blue eyes.


Sansa

The mornings always seemed to fly by in a congressional office. Sansa started off by answering one of the constituent comment phone lines. In her first few weeks she had been reduced to tears a few times, but by now she was well practiced.

"Thank you so much for sharing your concerns. Senator Baelish is deeply concerned with the rising cost of healthcare, especially for Kansans. We are continuing to pressure the President for a new healthcare act," she smiled into the phone. But inside her heart broke. The caller was a "frequent" flyer who called in about once a week because prices for his type 1 diabetes medications and supplies had spiked once again.

"Well done, Sansa," Senator Baelish said as he walked by her cubicle. "Let them believe we're doing all we can."

"But Senator," she bit her lip, "Surely there's something that can be done. The poor man calls every week…"

"Oh my sweetling, you know I wish I could help them," he smirked. "Something to take up with your father the next time you see him. Or your dear mother. I hear she's still determining what her cause will be."

"It's been a busy few months since the election," Sansa bit her lip.

"Indeed it has," he winked and slunk back to his office.

Sansa shuddered. Senator Baelish was one of the more notorious creeps on the Hill, but he seemed to have a thing for her in particular. But he was an old friend of her mother's, and managing her discomfort would be worth it in the future.

She continued to field calls and send out form letters in response to emails until a quarter to noon. Quickly, she logged out of her computer, grabbed her things, and headed for the elevators.

Joffrey's office wasn't too far away, but she was thankful for her pea coat as the last bit of winter chill nipped at her. She flashed her badge at the doorman, ran her purse through the scanner, and rode up the elevator.

At noon on the dot, she strode into Joffrey's office expecting to find him bent over his desk, hopefully waiting to eat lunch with her. But he wasn't there, nor was there any sign of Special Agent Clegane.

Jeyne Westerling was at the reception desk. She gave Sansa a small smile. "He's out for lunch… again…"

"Oh…" Sansa wilted. "Well, I'll be here when he gets back." She put on a brave face, flicked on the light in Joffrey's office, and took a seat to eat her lunch alone. There was no point in wasting her lunch break walking back to her own building even if Senator Baelish did give her extra time. She could usually wheedle Bronn into giving her a ride back to save time.

She decided to spend her time scrolling through Instagram. After a while she came across a post from Margaery Tyrell. It was a picture of her in a popular lunch spot for congressmen with the caption, "Best lunch spot in DC! Even better with a Yale boi! #bestboss #yalebois #smithgirls"

"WHAT?!" Sansa cried. The 'Yale boi' in question was unmistakable. She'd know those green eyes anywhere.

"Sansa?" Jeyne asked, but Sansa didn't respond. She threw her lunch back in her bag, grabbed her coat, and ran for the elevators.

She'd been about to step into the open elevator when she ran headlong into a very large, solid person.

"Little Bird?" Agent Clegane asked.

"I-," she hesitated. God forbid Joffrey come back and see her in such a state! She blinked back tears. "I came to have lunch with Joffrey, but I guess he's not in."

"No…" Clegane said slowly. "He's not."

"Well," she steeled herself. "I hope he had a nice lunch out."

Seemingly out of nowhere, the lunch bag she'd given Joffrey appeared in her hands.

"He missed out," Clegane's mouth twitched, threatening a smile.

"Lucky you," she said icily, sidestepping him into the elevator as tears poured down her cheeks.

Sansa tried to compose herself in the elevator. She took deep breaths and pressed the heels of her palms in her eyes. She knew she was a mess, but she'd have to wait until she made it back to her office and the peace of the lady's room.

But it seemed that today was not her day. Striding in confidently past the secure entrance with Margaery Tyrell hanging on his every word was Joffrey.

"Sansa!" he called. "You should've texted that you wanted to see me." He stood right in her path. "Are you all right, my lady?"

"I thought we had plans," she said quietly.

"I did," he said, brushing her off. "You should know to text me before you just pop in."

"Now I know," she said coolly.

"You should totally come next time!" Margaery piped up. "We had sooo much fun, didn't we Joff?"

"We're back in the building now," Joffrey hissed. "It's 'Mr. Baratheon' or 'Sir.'"

"Oh, right!" Margaery giggled.

"Okay, I'm done," Sansa said, "I have work to do."

"Bronn will pick you up later, and we'll have dinner," Joffrey said.

"You know what?" Sansa paused, "No. I need some space."

"But I got us a reservation!" Joffrey's voice went up a register.

"Take someone else," Sansa started walking. "Take Clegane for all I care! You should really appreciate him more."

"Sansa!" Joffrey shouted after her, but she kept walking.


A/N: Secret Service Code Names

Robert: Black Stag
Cersei: Sarabi
Joffrey: Simba
Myrcella: Bambi
Tommen: Prongs
Ned: Quiet Wolf
Catelyn: Red Wolf
Robb: Young Wolf
Sansa: Little Bird
Arya: Wolf Girl
Bran: Wise Wolf
Rickon: Wild Wolf
Jon: White Wolf
Jaime: Mufasa
Tyrion: Imp
Tywin: Golden Lion