Thank you for your encouraging reviews! Again, all characters belong to George R.R. Martin. Please keep the reviews coming. This is my first fanfic!

Sansa

Although she had decided since the first day of her landing in New Orleans that she and Cersei Lannister would never be "bosom buddies," Sansa had to admit that the woman had style. Since her father's closing via phone on her new townhouse at 10 a.m. this morning, Cersei Lannister had helped Sansa lavishly outfit her home with a visit to only three stores in four hours time, including a lunch break. Although Sansa liked to believe that Cersei was doing her a kindness, she knew deep down that a Lannister enjoyed spending money more than anything. Eddard Stark had seen to it that the utilities were turned on and that the furniture would be moved in this evening and that his little girl could stay in her townhouse tonight. It was with this new found since of permanence in New Orleans that Sansa at 5 p.m. began to prepare for Stag Petroleum's annual charity gala.

Sansa had hardly seen Joff since the dinner the other night, she thought as she began to apply her makeup. Will it be like this when we start school? Surely he will make time for me if we are to be together. She had always been told that she was a pretty girl, but if Joffrey thought so, he surely wasn't making that clear to her. Tonight will be different. I will make him notice me. That was Sansa's mantra as she put down her makeup brush and strode over to the closet. She delicately pulled out the powder blue Valentino, cocktail dress that her mother had bought for her earlier this spring. It was a beautiful dress and Sansa knew that she looked beautiful in it, but while she thought this she felt herself putting the dress back down and her eyes wandering to a black hang up bag in the back of her closet. As she reached for the bag Sandor Clegane's words were resonating in the back of her head. Everyone takes in New Orleans, and people rarely give. If she wanted Joffrey, she was going to have to take him. Her powder blue dresses and sweet smiles from Nashville weren't going to make him notice her. Sansa decided then and there that she was done being invisible to Joffrey. She would make him notice her, after all, wolves were hard to miss in Louisiana.

Sandor

I am getting too damn old for this shit. Sandor said to himself as he pulled on his black suit jacket and adjusted his grey tie. It's bad enough I have to follow the prick to every whore house in the city, now they're making me wear a suit. The suit bag had arrived for Sandor early today, with a note from Joff stating that his presence would be required at the gala. Usually Sandor only picked Joff up when he go too bored or too drunk to function around the Baratheon's social circle. But not tonight. At least I will get to see my little bird. He thought before he remembered that she wasn't his little bird, she was Joffrey's. And the dumbass doesn't even want her. He's out chasing whores. What the hell is wrong with him?

But Sandor knew, Sansa Stark was too sweet for Joffrey, with her perfectly lady like ways, and that was not what Joff wanted. Everyone from the wrong side of town knew Joffrey for his ways more than his wealth. It was no secret to Petyr Baelish that Joffrey liked to tie up his women and have his way with them, and if they didn't obey, they would pay for it with their flesh. Sandor had taken many a girl to the ER because of Joffrey's interests. Its better this way, at least as long as she remains such a sweet little thing Joffrey won't notice her. Sandor knew that going unnoticed was not something that Sansa Stark wasn't used to, but he prayed that she continued this way. And with that final thought, Sandor got in his bronco and headed to the convention center.

Robert

Robert Baratheon might have been a drunk after 5 p.m., but thank God he wasn't a blind drunk because he wouldn't be able to appreciate the site in front of him. Striding in the room was one of the most gorgeous women he had seen in a long time. Atleast since her, he thought. She was a little young for his tastes, probably around Joff's age, but as long as she was 18, it had never stopped him before. She was wearing a tri-colored—black, white and grey to be exact—cocktail dress that stopped a few inches above her knees. He would later remember Cersei mumbling about the dress being a Herve Leger, but right now he was focused on the woman in it not the designer. The dress was form fitting hugging her behind and curving downward to where here full breasts were meeting. Nice figure on that one, very fuckable, indeed. Her perfectly pale skin was flawless and her black three inch heels put her right at his height. And gods be damned, she is walking straight toward me.

But it was as she got closer that Robert, in his drunkenness began to feel unease about the situation. She was too perfect. He was too corrupt a man to be receiving this vision. True, at one point in his life he would have thought he deserved a beautiful woman like the one walking his way. But not anymore. That woman is dead, and I am stuck with Cersei fucking Lannister and three kids I'd rather throw money at than attention. Robert was almost twitching when he noticed that the girl was a mere ten feet from him and closing. Her hair, auburn in color, he noticed was pulled back from her head in a sleek do that ended in a perfect pony tail, and before he knew it she was right in front of him staring him in the eyes. Blue eyes….Tully blue. When he realized what he had been doing the few minutes previous to this moment, he felt sick, but now was not the time for sickness.

"Good evening, Mr. Baratheon," the woman said with the sweetest smile he had ever seen."This is a beautiful event."

He didn't know where he summoned the courage from, but he somehow found it inside himself to speak through his self-loathing.

"Thank you, Sansa."

Sansa

He almost seems sober tonight, Sansa decided walking away from Robert Baratheon. He and Joffrey really look nothing alike, she mused further as she went to get some champagne from the bar. She was going to need all the courage she could muster to go through with operation "Get Joffrey's Attention." The dress was only the first step, but it was working. Every man, woman, and child had taken notice of her when she walked in the room. Jory had said they would when he dropped her off.

Sansa wished Jory had been able to come. She did not like being a lone wolf, but knew that when he told her that Ned Stark needed him to come back, it must be important. You're being foolish, she told herself. You're going to be alone any way when school starts, a few days without Jory will seem like a joke to you come August. Although hesitant about being in New Orleans without her chauffeur/protector, Sansa was looking forward to her debut in New Orleans society and the first night in her home. She had already drawn from the murmurs going around the room that people were starting to figure out who she was.

As she scanned the crowd, again being reassured that she had indeed made an impression on the crowd, she noticed that the one person she was trying to impress wasn't there. Where is Joffrey? It's almost 6:30, and the gala started at 6. Sansa tried not to let this worry her as she grabbed another glass of champagne, raising it to Cersei who had caught her eye from across the room. Cersei's returning gesture and smile did not scream sincerity, and when Sansa looked in her eyes she could have sworn that for a minute she was a flash of jealousy.

But Sansa wasn't here to make an old woman jealous, and was moving on to stage two of her plans. She had remembered earlier in the day when talking to little Tommen that he was upset he couldn't go tonight because Better Than Ezra was going to play. She tried to convince the 12 year old that he wasn't really missing anything, but he was adamant that Better Than Ezra was his favorite New Orleans band. To let his anger be known, he had promptly turned away from Sansa, stormed in his room, and locked the door. Sansa spotted a group of young guys in jeans and blazers and figured that this must be the band. Without any hesitation, she approached one of the guys carrying a guitar case. She ended up speaking with him for a few minutes longer than anticipated as he spent the first couple of moments just staring at her, but by the end of the conversation she knew that she wouldn't have any trouble executing the second part of her plan.

Completely satisfied with how the night was going, Sansa turned around to see that things were truly looking up for her, as Joffrey, who had just entered was staring at her across the room.

Sandor

The first jab he ignored, the second agitated him enough to look at the source of his annoyance.

"Well, well, well, look who has come out to play," Joffrey said to Sandor as he elbowed him again in the ribs. But Joffrey wasn't looking at Sandor, he was looking across the room. Great, Sandor sighed to himself, lets look and see which trampy daughter of the New Orleans elite Joffrey is going to fuck tonight. When Sandor found the piece of eye candy Joffrey was looking at he nearly shat himself. It was Sansa Stark.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! The little bird is supposed to be in some silly colored dress that makes her look like the picture of innocence, not a goddamn auburn haired sex Barbie.

Before he had time to regain his composure, Joffrey was already across the room embracing Sansa in an all too touchy hug and leading her towards the bar. Sandor, who was in desperate need of a drink himself, followed Joffrey.

"Sandor," Joffrey crooned, "you are familiar with my girl, Sansa."

Huh…your girl? Twenty minutes ago in the car you were pretty damn upset that your mother had told you had to spend time with Sansa tonight.

All seething Sandor could do at this point was grunt his acknowledgement.

"Well, Dog, I'd like to thank you, Sansa has just informed me that she bought one of the homes you showed her and will be spending her first night there tonight…alone."

Sandor didn't think he had heard a scarier sentence ever uttered from the mouth of the little sadistic son-of-a-bitch.

"Alone," Sandor spat in the general direction of Sansa. He was now staring at the bar with an angry look in his face and an all too familiar tightness growing in his pants at the sight of Sansa Stark. "Isn't that what that smuck Jory is for? To make sure that you are not alone in this city?"

"Well," Sansa started to answer him, forcing Sandor to finally meet her eyes. "Father has called Jory back until Sunday, he needs him for something. And anyway, I should get used to staying alone."

Sansa Stark seemed to have grown a pair since he dropped her off from their little house hunting excursion, Sandor noticed. I hope the little bird has grown some claws as well, by the look in Joffrey's eyes, she is going to need them tonight.

Joffrey took that exact moment to spit another one of his false gallantries at Sansa, "You? Alone tonight? I don't think so," Joffrey said in a sugary sweet voice that made Sandor want to throw up, while he watched Joffrey take Sansa's free hand and kiss her palm. "I am sure that we can work something out tonight…between the two of us."

Sandor Clegane was going to be sick. The little bird, alone with Joffrey for a whole night, over my dead body, was all he could think as the night progressed. It was 9 p.m., and they only had to suffer another hour here before he would have to deliver Sansa and Joffrey back to Sansa's new townhome. If only I could get shit-faced to numb the pain and didn't have to drive the sorry Snow Prince's ass around. But he couldn't. So Sandor Clegane sat there and watched his master, like a good dog, twirl Sansa Stark around the dance floor. Fucking prick should have been an actor, looking so happy out there with her. He's just going to use her like one of his strippers. Sandor then noticed that the music had changed and Better Than Ezra was playing a slow song. With the change in music, Joffrey also decided to change his hand placement letting his right hand rub circles on the top of Sansa's ass.

One, two, three breathe…One two three, breathe…

Sandor saw Joffrey's hands move backup as Sansa Stark froze. She might have looked like she was ready for a good fuck in that dress, but Sandor knew the truth, Sansa would NEVER be ready for a night with Joffrey Baratheon. And tonight would not be that night he decided as he stormed off from his creeping post in the corner to find Cersei Baratheon.

Sansa

Her plan was working perfectly, Sansa thought as Joffrey and she danced to Better Than Ezra's last song. She had come here to get Joffrey's attention, and she had held it all night. Although, it hadn't been as smooth as she would like. For one thing, now that she had Joffrey's eyes on her, she noticed that Joffrey's hands were on her everywhere too. During dinner she had to remove his hand from her thigh when she noticed that it was creeping over her fabric toward the V in her legs. Sansa had never been touched there before and a dinner table at a charity gala was not where she wanted her first experience there to be. Joffrey had almost looked angry when she did this, but his smile was quickly plastered back on his face. Joff likes the chase she thought. The thought should have comforted her and would have if during the two hours since Joffrey hadn't looked at her like she was prey. I really am a little bird, and he really is part lion.

This is what she wanted thought wasn't it…Joffrey's attention? And now he knew that she would be alone at her house tonight. While Sansa was secretly proud that Joffrey had finally noticed her beauty, she wanted him to love her and not lust for her. But she still had one trick up her sleeve, to ensure this. Maybe I can make him love me.

As the song started to dwindle down, Sansa politely broke the dance with Joffrey and made her way toward the stage. She felt a familiar glare coming from her right and wasn't shocked to see that Sandor Clegane was staring at her as he spoke to Cersei Lannister. Aftet all, he had been staring at her all night. I'm not stupid, and one day he will realize that. It's hard NOT to notice when Sandor Clegane is staring at you like he wants to rip your head off. But Sansa didn't understand. By the end of their day together, things were almost comfortable between them. She had begun not to notice his scars but the other aspects of his face as well, and truth be told, the unburned side was kinda pleasant. Sandor Clegane wouldn't have been handsome even if his face was whole, but he would have been striking, with his strong features, black hair, and grey eyes. Not to mention his body. Everything about his body screamed I'm a man, which made Sansa remember the way her body had reacted to his fastening her seatbelt. Sansa shook her head as she began to climb the stairs to the stage. She couldn't be distracted now.

"Thank you, thank you for coming out tonight and supporting our city," the lead singer was saying, as he noticed Sansa's presence. "We've had a pleasure performing for you tonight, and I am proud to tell you that our last song tonight will be performed by our newest resident of the city, Miss Sansa Stark, formerly of Nashville, Tennessee."

With this announcement Sansa began to take her place on stage. The bassist was pulling a stool to the middle of the stage and adjusting the microphone for her as she took the Gibson acoustic from the lead singer.

"Good luck," he whispered to her as he ushered the rest of the band off stage.

Sansa took a deep breath and cleared her throat before she began. All night, in the back of her head, she had been contemplating what to sing. She had thought about "Cry Me a River" or "I'd Rather Go Blind," which would fit right in with soul of New Orleans. It had even occurred to her to take a stab at one of Norah Jones sensual songs, but she was a Stark from Nashville and knew that only a country classic could convey her true talent. And with this realization, she strummed her first note.

Sandor

Sandor couldn't believe his eyes. It was bad enough for him to watch men look at Sansa all night, but at least propriety kept them from openly staring the whole evening. Now, as she sat on stage with a guitar in her hand strumming a tune he didn't yet recognize, the males in the crowd had no reason not to take in her full beauty. And Sansa Stark was beautiful. She was beautiful because of her voice, which he had heard about and was about to hear in person. She was beautiful because of her physical attributes. But most importantly, she was beautiful because of her goodness, and he prayed that his little chat with Cersei would allow her to keep that a little bit longer.

The chat had gone well. Cersei was not expecting Sandor Clegane, who could barely stand to look at her, approach him about her son. Cersei was a bitch, but she at least knew what her son was capable of, and because of this, she had agreed with Sandor that it was NOT a good idea for Sansa Stark to be alone in a townhouse with her son. Sandor knew that Joffrey was going to blow a gasket, which would probably cause some poor prostitute to get beaten within an inch of her life, but Sandor didn't care. People died every day, and truth be told, he had killed a few, but he would not let Sansa Stark be one of them. Knowing this, Sandor was able to momentarily turn off his anger and listen to Sansa as she began to sing.

Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely

I'm crazy, crazy for feeling so blue

I knew you'd love me as long as you wanted

And then someday you'd leave me for somebody new

Worry, why do I let myself worry?

Wond'ring what in the world did I do?

Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you

I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying

And I'm crazy for loving you

Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you

I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying

And I'm crazy for loving you.

Sandor didn't know a lot about country music but he knew this particular song. It was one that his sister had loved to sing growing up, and had never quite mastered. He used to tease her and she would laugh simply saying, "Patsy Cline is hard to sing, Sandor." Sandor had never doubted this statement, but he knew one thing. Sansa Stark could sing Patsy Cline, and she was damn good at it. He also knew that he wasn't the only one who noticed.

The room erupted into applause as Sansa walked off the stage. Sandor even noticed that all of the Barathoen's, Robert, Cersei, and Joffrey, were all stunned into speechlessness, something that never happened. Even Sandor, who prided himself on his control over his emotions, felt momentarily weak. Sansa Stark not only looked like she was made in heaven, she sounded like it too. Before he knew what was going on, he was walking toward his little bird.

Sansa saw him walking her way and stopped. Sandor was just about to tell her how beautiful she sounded when Joffrey Baratheon nudged him out of the way, took Sansa in his arms, and began to kiss her. Sandor would have called It a passionate kiss if he did not know Joffrey, but he did, and this kiss bordered on violent. Sansa must have sensed this too because she quickly pulled away flustered. By the time Cersei and Robert made their way over, Sansa Stark's, face was almost the color of her hair, and Joffrey had a death grip on her hand.

"Father, Mother," Joffrey said turning to his parents," Isn't my girl's voice is beautiful as she?" Joffrey said to his parents, all the while staring at Sansa's slightly heaving chest.

"Sansa," Robert began, not slurring half as badly as he usually did at this point in the night, "thank you for honoring us with a song. Ned had told me you could sing, but I didn't quite believe how well until just now."

"Yes," Cersei began. "Your father has always been modest about your talent." The contempt in Cersei's voice when speaking of Eddard Stark didn't go unnoticed by Sandor. Bitch can't even say his name, she hates him so damn much

"Thank you," said Sansa. "You have all been so kind to me, and I wanted a chance to express my gratitude, especially to you, Mrs. Baratheon, for helping me with my house."

Sandor knew where this was going and just sat there dumfounded watching the scene unfold. The Baratheons hadn't acknowledged his presence, but they had never made a habit of acknowledging people unless there was a reason, usually something they wanted.

"Yes, speaking of your house, Sansa," Joffrey said as he turned toward his parents, "I think it's time we called it a night and headed…"

Before he could get the words out of his mouth, Cersei gave Robert a knowing look, and Robert quickly stopped Joffrey's train of thought.

"I don't think so, Joff," started Robert. "While its unusually gallant of you to want to make sure Sansa isn't alone, which I am sure that's all you would be doing, I don't think my best friend in the world, Ned Stark, would want his little girl and you to be shacking up so quickly."

Sandor was even a little surprised at Robert's crass but accurate assessment of the situation as he watched Sansa Stark's face grow redder from embarrassment and Joffrey's heat up with anger.

"Father, I don't think your best friend, Sansa's father," Joffrey said emphasizing the father bit. "would want his grown daughter, staying in her house alone with no one to protect her. Jory has gone back to Nashville, which I am sure you know."

"No, Joff, I suppose you're right," Robert Baratheon conceded. "Ned wouldn't want Sansa alone in New Orleans before she is comfortable."

Joffrey's eyes grew wide with triumph, while his mother looked perplexed.

"That is why," Robert started, having giving his son a moment to revel in his false win before crushing his victory, "from now unitl Jory returns on Sunday, Meryn will be following you around and your Hound will be staying with Sansa."

Robert Baratheon immediately started laughing and walking away before Sandor could digest what he had just heard. He was still digesting the matter and had not moved when an angry Joffrey stormed off toward the door with Meryn stalking from the shadows in his wake. He had almost wrapped his head around his new duty as Cersei Baratheon downed her second glass of champagne from the bar in five minutes, and he finally understood what his new situation meant when he felt a small hand on his shoulder. Sandor turned to see that it was his little bird's.

"Well," she said with and indiscernible look on her face as he turned toward her. At least she's not crying. "it looks like its time to go, and I still need to go and collect my things from the hotel."

Sandor nodded in agreement as he followed her outside.