"I can't believe I'm really here, "Sansa reflected as she walked past Low Library. "Everything looks so majestic."

"Hurry Sansa," Margaery beckoned. "You don't want to be late for Professor Varys's class. He may not let you in!"

Looking at her cellphone Sansa realized she had 8 minutes to get to the International Affairs Building. "I'll see you later," she bellowed back to her roomie and took off.

Arriving just as his teaching assistant was closing the door; Sansa took the first available seat, in the second row. She was panting because of her hurried pace and felt people staring at her.

"Good morning children," the bald man in the front of the room began, "I am Professor Varys. I am not from here, but Greece. English is not my native language, it's my 9th language. My point is, you do not have to be an American to understand the nuances and subtleties of its political system and that is what I am here to teach you. Welcome to US Politics, a survey course. I understand that many of you in here are not political science majors, but rest assured, you will glean much useful information from my class. Let's begin."

"Damn it Dad," Sansa thought, "You made me take this course, you said it would be good for me. Now I'm stuck with this creepy little man for the next 16 weeks. Thanks."

The next hour was awkward. Professor Varys was discussing how the affluent families in American served the same purpose as royalty abroad.

"Here are some family names that everyone should be familiar with; Baratheon, Lannister, Tyrell, Frey, and Stark." He looked directly at Sansa. She froze.

"All of these families are America's ruling elite and they are all interconnected. They assist one another even as they vie for more power."

Blushing, Sansa kept her eyes on the wall clock. She could feel the leers coming at her from all sides.

"What is his problem?" she thought.

Finally, he dismissed the class and Sansa left the room without acknowledging anyone.

Relief washed over her when she made it to street level. The crisp air of the day took some of the sting from her cheeks.

"I hope every class doesn't go like that. Thank God it's only 2 days a week."

Next, Sansa had economics. She looked over her schedule and saw it was in the same building. She headed back in, with her head down, and walked straight to her classroom. This time, she was able to choose a seat towards the back.

Ten minutes later a man entered and began writing on the whiteboard.

Petyr Baelish, Commander of Economic, Lord of Numbers

He then took a seat at his desk and propped up his feet. He had dark hair with a bit of grey showing; it did not age him. His facial hair was neatly clipped into a moustache and goatee. Sansa could not tell what color his eyes were from her seat, but she could tell they were glowing. She was unsure how tall he was, but he was swarthy. She had heard that word before but had never really understood its meaning until she saw him. He exuded it.

His clothes were mostly black; motorcycle jacket, jeans, boots. His grey-fitted T-shirt clung to his muscular frame. He had on some jewelry, which Sansa typically thought looked silly on a man, but it suited him perfectly. In his ear, he had a single silver hoop from which dangled a tiny black bird.

"Jesus," Sansa thought to herself, "he's a Professor?"

"Roz," he called to someone unseen, "bring me my materials please."

A red-headed woman appeared from a doorway next to the board. She had his textbook, and papers.

"Thank You," he said as she bent low placing the objects on his desk. Sansa could have sworn she saw him look down the young woman's top, but she was far back so perhaps she saw nothing.

"This is Economics 101, Basic Concepts of Macroeconomics. I am Professor Baelish. I received my undergrad in Economics from the University of Nevada Las Vegas. I then studied at Northwestern. I am a Fulbright Scholar, a Rhodes Scholar, and have received the Neemers Prize for my contributions regarding Post-Soviet economies. This is my TA Roz. She will be assisting with this class, and most questions should be directed to her. She is a very capable educator."

This was going to be a very hard class. Professor Baelish seemed impersonal. He lectured, and wrote notes, but he didn't have much interaction with the students. Sansa kept up well with the information, but by the end of the session her head hurt.

"Thank you for your attention everyone, you may go," he concluded. "Miss Stark, may I have a word please?"

Concern washed over her face. She had done everything she was supposed to do in class; pay attention, take notes, don't fall asleep. "What could he want?"

"Sansa," he shook her hand, "I wanted to introduce myself personally. I grew up with your mother and aunt in California. We went to the same high school. I understand you're new to New York, so if you ever need anything don't hesitate to ask. Ok?"

His eyes were grey-green and Sansa noticed them scanning her whole body as he waited for her response.

"Yes, Professor Baelish, I will."

"Good girl, now off you go, Roz and I have appointments."

Sansa nodded as he dismissed her, and left.

Physical Education was her last class of the day. She thought it was ridiculous that Colombia still required this course for first year students, but there she was wearing her tennis shoes, shorts and a white athletic shirt.

"Property of Colombia," it said on the front. On the back there was a box to write your last name in. Sansa wrote Stark in the space with her Sharpie and headed to the field. A dark-haired girl, Myranda Royce, pointed and laughed.

"Shit, haven't I had enough today," Sansa was tired and just wanted a nap.

They had to run laps. Myrnada was running too close to Sansa. She was worried she would fall. She didn't and was okay, but the other girl made her feel uneasy.

"Home sweet home," Sansa called out an hour later entering her abode.

"Sans, is that you?" rang out Margaery.

"Of course silly. What time is your dad taking us to dinner?"

"He's not taking us out, sorry. He's bringing food here; Italian. Is that okay?"

"It's perfect. I'm going to take a shower, and I want to call my mom tonight."

When Mace arrived at the condo, Sansa was wearing black yoga pants and a Red Sox tank top. She was relaxed and happy.

"I really appreciate the food Mr. Tyrell. Actually, I appreciate everything you've done for me."

"Don't think twice about it kid. Our families stick together. Your parents would do the same."

His comments made her think about Professor Varys's comments earlier in the day. She knew he had meant them in a negative way, but Sansa only saw the bond as a positive. To her, it was nice to look out for one another.

Margaery and Mace went to the roof to check on the hot tub and talk. Sansa rang Cat.

"Stark Residence," the Butler answered.

"Hi Coleman, can I talk to my mom please?" she inquired.

"Of course Sansa, she has been awaiting your call. Hold please while I transfer you."

"Thanks."

"Sansa tell me all about your first day," Cat prodded.

"Well, it was great; most of it anyway," Sansa sounded down.

"What's wrong?"

"It's my Political Science Professor, Varys," she began," he spent most of the class picking on our family and friends. I have no idea why?"

"Well dear, there are some that are jealous of the success of others. We kept you shielded from most of that when you were under our roof, but now you're going to have to develop a thicker skin."

She has been expecting a kinder answer from her mom, but continued.

"Economics was better. Professor Baelish seems like a very smart man."

"Petyr Baelish," Cat inquired her voice screechy.

"Yes, he said he knew you and Aunt Lysa."

"Wow, I haven't thought about Petyr Baelish in years," reflected her mother. Cat was quite for a moment.

"When I was a child," she began, "Petyr lived in the same town. He didn't have any money, but he had good grades so he was offered a scholarship to our school. Your Aunt was crazy for him, but he didn't feel the same way. God, he used to follow me around. Anyway, when it was time to go to college I went to Yale and Lysa went to Smith. Petyr however, wasn't given the same opportunity and wound up at UNLV."

Sansa was hanging on every word.

"He worked as a blackjack dealer while he put himself through school. He got into some trouble with Racketeering, I think, and was almost expelled. I've always thought that he picked up some rather bad habits living in that place."

"Why didn't I know this?" Sansa thought, baffled.

"Through the years, he had convinced himself that he loved me. After I graduated, Brandon and I took a trip to Vegas to celebrate and ran into him again. Both Brandon and Petyr had been drinking, words were said, and when Petyr tried to take my hand, Brandon stabbed him."

Sansa gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, afraid the interruption would cause her mother to clam up.

"We fled the city, and Brandon entered the service. That was the last trip we ever took together. "

Both women sat in silence.

Finally Cat warned, "Don't be fooled by him Sansa, he's a dangerous man."

"He's my Professor Mother. He would get fired if he messed with me."

"He has his ways darling, be careful."

The rest of the conversation was about nothing. Where to eat in New York, sights to see, nice paths to run. They exchanged terms of endearments, and Sansa promised to call over the weekend.

Sansa went downstairs to watch TV. The New York stations were different that the ones in Boston and she became frustrated.

"I guess I'll just go to bed. Tomorrow is Algebra and Earth Science; fun, fun," musing to herself.

Treading the hallway to her room she kept thinking about her phone conversation.

"Mother is being dramatic. How could she know anything about a man she hasn't seen in 20 years?"

She pulled back the covers on her bed and lay down; her last thought of the day was:

"Petyr Baelish; professor, criminal, and hottie."