Warnings: Jaime/Cersei.

One

"Where do we even start?" Jaime groans.

Brienne sighs. "At the beginning."

*/*/*/*/*

They review the museum's security footage from the last five months and Brienne thinks the Board made the right decision when they decided to include massive storage capacity in their new security system.

"Why so much storage?" Jaime asks, bored, as he keeps his eyes on the seldom-changing picture of the hallway outside the storage room.

"For this very reason," Brienne says, equally bored. "They have thousands of artifacts in storage, some of which aren't looked at for years at a time. The Board decided if they were going to pay for a new security system, they may as well make it worthwhile."

Jaime pouts as he props his chin on his hand. "This is going to take forever, even with all of us taking a portion."

She slides him an amused glance. "'Let me be a detective', you said; 'it'll be fun', you said."

He slowly grins at her. "I prefer to believe that's what you said to convince me."

She shakes her head, biting back a smile. "Anyway, at least we can just focus on the hallway outside the storage room to begin with," she says. "Do some background on everyone who goes in and out of it."

"Assuming the pouch wasn't stolen at the same time as the dragon bone and the sword hilt," Jaime says glumly.

"Assuming that, yes," Brienne says drily. "What about your connections?"

He blinks. "My connections?"

"Doesn't it seem odd that three artifacts dated to the same time period are stolen from the museum around the same time?"

"Mayhaps," Jaime concedes, "but there's a fairly steady demand for antiquities on the black market. The discovery of the tombs of the first Lannister King and his Queen caused quite a flurry of activity...and a bidding war."

Brienne frowns, suddenly thoughtful. "What else have you stolen since the tomb was discovered?"

Jaime raises an eyebrow. "Are you hoping to track my movements, Brienne? Hoping there's a reward if you were to turn me in?"

She flushes and glares. "I should have turned you in the moment you claimed to be Jaime Lannister," she growls.

His smile is knife-sharp, his green eyes cold. "Mayhaps...but it's gone too far for you to do that now."

They stare at each other in charged, suddenly tense silence, then Brienne grits out, "I'm asking because I'm wondering if we can discover a pattern in the objects you've been hired to steal."

"We're not the only people around to provide our unique services, nor the only ones in our line of work," Jaime purrs, "not to mention all the amateurs out there. I doubt you'll find a pattern. Besides, the job before this one involved was purely modern era."

Brienne rolls her eyes and turns back to her laptop and the unchanging hallway that's on the screen.

Jaime's phone vibrates and he looks at it, scowls, then sends the call to voice mail. A moment later, the phone vibrates again. He closes his eys and curses beneath his breath.

He mutters, "I better take this else she'll just make my life miserable."

Brienne blinks at him in confusion, then flushes and hastily nods. "Take all the time you need," she mumbles.

She studiously refuses to look at him as he pauses the video on his own laptop then walks out of her office with his phone pressed against his ear.

*/*/*/*/*

"Jaime Lannister speaking."

"You know it's me."

"Of course I do, but I'm not in private," Jaime growls as he walks into his office and closes the door.

"Don't tell me: you're pretending to 'work'."

Jaime sighs. "What do you want, Cersei?"

"To see you. Things ended on a sour note the other night and I'd like to make it up to you."

Jaime pulls the phone away from his ear and stares incredulously at it. He shakes his head before he puts it back against his ear when he hears Cersei squawking his name.

"Whatever it is you're planning," he says, his voice flat and cold, "keep me out of it."

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

Jaime thinks quickly and to his disgust, a part of him—specifically the part below the waist—is suddenly very interested in learning just how passionately persuasive Cersei would be to convince him to do whatever it is she wants him to do if she's willing to semi-apologize just to get back into his good graces.

If she's this desperate to get him back under her spell, whatever's going on must be huge.

That thought is better than a cold shower.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," he says.

There's silence on the other end of the phone, then Cersei says, her voice soft, "Please, Jaime. I need you."

Jaime closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Beyond huge, if she's resorted to pleading.

Outside his office door, he hears Brienne call for Bronna and Sam then the murmur of their voices as they join her in her office.

And a desperate Cersei is a dangerous Cersei.

"My place," he growls. "Seven o'clock. And keep your clothes on."

*/*/*/*/*

Brienne takes in Jaime's thunderous expression and her heart sinks.

So stupid, she scolds herself as he strolls towards the table in her office where she's sitting with Bronna and Sam. Of course there's a woman—likely Cersei but mayhaps somebody else—and she doesn't know why she's surprised and disappointed by this proof of it. Despite Bronna's teasing, Brienne has no illusions about her relationship with Jaime or her looks. She's seldom the object of any man's interest and when she is, it's because the man sees her as a challenge—like the bouncer at the DragonPit—or because they think, like Hyle Hunt, that she's wealthier than she truly is.

But Jaime? Master thief or not, Jaime, or whatever his name really is, is never going to be attracted to her, not even for a novelty fuck.

The thought saddens her more than she likes and she straightens her shoulders and gives him a determined smile.

"There's been at least a dozen people going in and out of that storage room so far," she says.

He smooths his expression and raises an eyebrow. "What day are you on?"

"Don't get your hopes up," she says as lightly as she can, "we still have three months of footage to go so pull up a chair."

He groans but does as he's told.

*/*/*/*/*

In the end, they have screenshots of almost two dozen people who have gone into the storage room over the previous five months.

"Assuming it wasn't stolen at the same time as the dragon bone," Jaime reminds them yet again.

"Well," Brienne says briskly, "we have to start somewhere," Brienne says, "and if these people are dead ends, well...at least we've followed every lead."

"Yeah."

She gives him a glimmer of a smile. "Not so easy on this side of the divide, is it?"

He raises an eyebrow. "This frustration is exactly what I want to accomplish from my side of the divide," he purrs then grimaces. "But I'll definitely have more sympathy for the people investigating one of my jobs from now on."

"You better be talking about the jobs you did before you became Jaime Lannister!"

His smile is far too charming to be trusted. "Of course I am. Trust me."

*/*/*/*/*

They take prints of the screenshots to the museum and show them to Pia. She readily identifies each person but frowns over one.

"This is Yna," she says, picking up the picture. "She's new to the museum; only been here for about two or three months...but I'm not sure why she's going into the storage room."

"Would somebody have sent her there for some reason?" Brienne asks, perking up. "To return something or to get something?"

Pia frowns. "Unlikely...but mayhaps." She turns back to the picture and shakes her head. "Yna works in the gift shop; she's one of the cashiers. Not only that but the storage room has a combination lock...how did she get the code?"

*/*/*/*/*

The gift shop is closed by the time they finish with Pia and they leave the museum on a wave of cautious optimism.

"It's probably going to be nothing," Brienne says as she drives them back to the office, "but at least it feels like we're doing something."

Jaime nods as he stares pensively out the window.

Brienne shoots him a quick glance and says, "You don't think she's a good lead?"

Jaime takes a deep breath and turns to her. "She's the only lead we've got, so I suppose she's a good one. Listen, I won't be able to work any longer tonight. I have a meeting."

Brienne slowly flushes as her stomach sinks into her toes. She gives him a determined smile. "'Meeting'? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

He gives her a perfunctory smile. "Well, at least she's not a murder suspect this time."

Cersei.

Brienne thought her stomach couldn't drop any lower; she was wrong. She swallows heavily, her hands tightening on the steering wheel. She doesn't look at him as she forces herself to say, "Well...play safe and be discreet. The tabloids would have a field day."

*/*/*/*/*

Jaime barely has time to shrug out of his suit jacket before Cersei arrives. He opens the door to find her in a dark brown cloak with the hood pulled up to hide her beautiful face and bright, golden hair.

He closes the door and follows her into the living room where Cersei turns to him. She lowers her hood, and smiles.

"I knew you wouldn't let me down," she says and flings herself into his arms.

*/*/*/*/*