A huge thank you to LadyCyprus who edited this looong chapter!

This story is almost over. Once again, YogaWithAdriene videos inspired one of the scenes. Those of you who are familiar with her videos will tell me if I get Adriene's tone right or not...

After last update's cliffhanger, a bit of melodrama for the Lannisters and for Sansan, but it doesn't mean it can't be fun… Hope you'll enjoy it!

Trant found out you turned off one of the security cameras and he just told Joffrey. What do we do?

Once Meryn Trant had shuffled away and left her alone in the kitchen, she stared at the screen of her phone, hoping for a text. Her tone was alarming enough, she thought, to prompt an immediate response.

The grapes she had eaten with pleasure moments ago had left a sour taste in her mouth. Her eyes squeezed shut with a pained look. It's not possible. Yet it was. Sandor would get fired, at the very least. The minutes were ticking away, but Sandor remained silent. Had Joffrey told him about the CCTV and already fired him? Anything was possible with Joffrey, when he went ballistic.

Should she pack her things and run away while it was still possible? The mere notion of Joffrey finding out what was going on between his girlfriend and his employee, thanks to Trant's revelation, brought a deep queasiness to her stomach. Sandor would also get fired in this case. Or maybe something worse? She bit her lower lip. It was more difficult however to imagine what Joffrey would do with her. She already felt like a prisoner and the Lannisters controlled her family's assets. Joffrey would find something, though. He always does.

Sighing deeply, she tried to reassure herself. After all, neither Trant nor Joffrey knew her comings and goings near the swimming pool were the reason Sandor had turned off the camera: they couldn't imagine Sandor had joined her right after turning it off. This idea somewhat calmed her nerves. As long as Joffrey ignored what the head of security had done with his girlfriend, Sandor might lose his job but he would be safe.

Her phone buzzed. The sight of a new text, with Sandor's name attached to it, caused a surge of adrenaline in her body.

Fuck

She sighed. Sandor's messages tended to be even more terse than his answers in a face-to-face conversation. Her feet moved of their own accord towards the patio as she dialed his phone number; she dashed across the white granite decking and put as much space between the house and herself as she could. The sun was setting and soon darkness would swallow the mansion. No one will see me here. When he finally picked up, she was out of breath.

"Hey, it's me. Shouldn't we get away when there's still time?" she asked before he could say anything, her voice faltering towards the end of the sentence. "I can pack my stuff really quick." Gulping painfully, she scanned her surroundings, making sure no one was listening but there was only the cacti in several sizes and forms Cersei had had planted by the patio, the Italian marble sculpture of a roaring lion and the gentle breeze of the evening.

"Nope. Look, I can't talk to you now. Stay exactly where you are and calm the fuck down."

'Calm down?' Excuse me? She opened her mouth to shout then remembered where she was and what was at stake. "How am I supposed to calm down?" she hissed. "Joffrey knows what you did! What we did!"

A long, excruciating silence welcomed her interrogations. In the end, Sandor replied: "He doesn't. He doesn't know a single thing about us." Another pause. "Sorry, I can't talk. I've got this. Trust me, OK?"

Then he was gone. How did Sandor intend to deal with a furious Joffrey? He of all people ought to know how Joffrey reacted when he felt betrayed. Sandor's outward self-confidence didn't make any sense to her. She kept staring at the screen of her phone in case he called her back then she put it in the back pocket of her jeans and hugged herself. Looking at the purple sky then at the hills surrounding the house, she felt like the ground was falling away under her feet. Tears were gathering in the corners of her eyes when she heard someone behind her. Expecting to see Meryn Trant again, she tried to compose herself before turning around. Instead of Trant's red and square face she only saw the void at first, then she lowered her gaze. Tyrion Lannister observed her, a cunning smile playing about his lips. Under the scrutiny of his mismatched eyes her panic increased. I look guilty, she thought.

"Hello, Sansa. Well, that was quite an interesting conversation."

"What? What are you talking about? How long have you been here?" Arms folded, she tried to stay calm. She nonetheless knew her act was pointless; people like the Imp smelled out lies.

Tyrion shrugged, then gave her one of his most irritating looks. "Long enough to know you've done something terrible with someone else and you're considering sneaking off."

"I- I'm-"

"Let's skip the awkward part where you try to convince me you don't want to leave this place and you're madly in love with my nephew. You save your breath, I save some patience," he said, tilting his head to one side then to the other one. "I know you want to leave and I have an idea who you want to run away with."

He's telling a lie to get at the truth. Sansa shook her head. "No, you don't. You don't know who I was talking to. I never said their name."

A chortle escaped his lips. "Actually, I know who you were talking to and if you want my opinion it's quite an unexpected choice. Bad-tempered, broody… Disfigured, even… Not the kind of man girls label 'cute' as far as I know."

"You're not a girl."

"Still, a very unexpected choice."

"You expected me to fall for a short, blond, witty guy who sounds more and more self-satisfied every time I meet him?" You're pushing your luck, she scolded herself, immediately dreading the consequences of her outspokenness.

Tyrion snorted. "You've got more backbone than Cersei imagines."

"What do you want from me?" she asked, hardly softening her tone. If he had uncovered the truth, if he knew she wanted to leave, why would she handle him with kid gloves?

Tyrion grinned in the most annoying fashion. "I don't want anything from you. I want to help you!"

"Why would you help me?" This is absurd. If he thinks I'm going to fall for this...

"Do you watch old school westerns, Sansa?" As she shook her head, he went on: "Haven't you heard somewhere the saying 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend'? It is exactly the same. You hate Cersei? Welcome to the club! At this very moment, it seems to me that the best way to get my revenge on her is to help you run away."

Sansa shook her head. "I don't believe you."

The Imp shrugged, then took a step back. "Suit yourself." He turned around, waddled towards the house and stopped mid-stride. "Your secret is safe with me, by the way," he added without ever glancing back at her.

She stayed outside for a while, playing their conversation over and over in her head, unable to decide if she could trust him or not.

No messages, let alone a phone call. For the hundredth time, Sansa glanced at her phone but she already knew the answer: Sandor remained awfully quiet since their brief exchange one hour ago. She had taken refuge in her bedroom and pretended to study one of her history books. Meryn Trant was somewhere in the big house - he shuffled between the hallway and the family room. At 8 o'clock, she heard Cersei's coupé in the yard then the clicking of her heels on the floor. Later on, she made out Tommen's voice but she wasn't sure if he had come back home with his mother or if some of his friends' parents had given him a ride. As sympathetic as Tommen had been lately, she didn't feel bold enough to go and talk to him. She therefore stayed in her room, sitting cross-legged on her bed, her book open on her lap but her eyes fixed on the door, dreading what was next.

And then, around 9, the slam of a couple of doors announced the arrival of Joffrey, most likely with Sandor in tow. The end is nigh. From where she was, Sansa heard him shouting orders and summoning people to what used to be Robert's office. There were protestations and questions, Tommen asked if Sansa should come too but Joffrey answered that it wasn't her business. Finally the office door closed.

Sansa waited a minute before sticking her head around the door and sneaking out of her bedroom, heart pounding in her chest. No one in sight. She couldn't stay in her hiding place any longer and she needed to know what was going on in the office. In case someone walked in on her while she eavesdropped, she grabbed her book and sat down in the family room. As the office was next to it, she could hear Joffrey yelling at Sandor, Cersei only interrupting him to ask more details about the whole CCTV thing.

Even behind the door, it was easy to imagine those who were gathered in the office. Joffrey's face was probably reddening as he roared and spluttered; on the brief occasions when she said something, Cersei sounded incredulous. Sansa pictured Trant standing in a corner, hands buried in his pockets, lapping it up as Sandor listened to his boss' accusations. As for Tommen, he was certainly shocked: she imagined his eyes moving between Joffrey and Sandor, trying to understand what was going on and how all this was going to end.

"So, Sandor, what do you have to say in your defense?" Joffrey taunted, pretending Sandor's fate wasn't already sealed.

With a lump in her throat, Sansa waited for his answer. He remained silent at first, then she heard him say with detachment: "I did turn off the camera. I had my reasons."

Sansa shivered and tiptoed towards the office door.

"And what were these reasons that made you turn off the camera, for God's sake?" Cersei hissed.

Sandor went on: "You should ask Trant why he keeps the footage of this camera on his laptop and what he does with it."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Liar!"

"What the hell-"

On the other side of the door, Sansa's eyes widened. Nothing made sense to her.

"Tommen darling, go find Trant's laptop in his room and bring it back here." Cersei's words were laced with a wicked interest.

Sansa rushed to the nearest armchair and grasped her book before the door flung open; Tommen ran to Meryn Trant's room without even noticing her presence in the family room. Through the open door, she heard Trant's denial. Whatever this is about, it's useless and he should shut up, she mused. Protesting only piques Cersei's curiosity.

Soon enough, Tommen was back with Trant's laptop. This time he spotted Sansa and planted himself in front of her.

"Hey, I didn't know you were there. You should come with us. Methinks something interesting is about to happen…"

With an incline of his head, he motioned her inside the office. Sansa stepped in gingerly and stood in a corner, as far from the other ones as possible. Joffrey was sitting at his late father's desk, Cersei leaning against the back of his seat. Sandor stood in front of a bookshelf filled with bound books no one cared to read, opposite Meryn Trant whose stiff back betrayed his unease.

Cersei frowned. "Is Sansa's presence here necessary?"

"Of course not!" Joffrey barked.

"On the contrary! All the women living here should know how my co-worker uses the CCTV." Sandor rewarded them with a twisted smile.

Trant pointed a finger at Sandor. "You're going to regret that, Clegane!" Then, addressing his boss: "This is a waste of time. You should just fire this bastard, he admitted he turned off the camera!"

"Shut up, everyone!" Tommen commanded. "I need a password." Indifferent to the others' heated exchange, he had settled the laptop on the desk and turned it on.

Trant shook his head vehemently.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," Cersei informed him, sashaying towards her employee. "Give us your password, Meryn."

"Never!"

Tommen was already typing something. Over his shoulder Sansa saw the typical 'Incorrect password' message. She moved closer.

"'The ladies' favorite treat'?" Tommen read out loud. "How is this password hint going to help us?"

Tommen and Sansa glanced at Trant who, despite Cersei's glare, kept silent. The boy scratched his head before shifting his gaze to Sandor. "What are we supposed to find on his laptop anyway?"

"A good reason for me to turn off the camera the other day. Read the password hint again, will you?"

"'The ladies' favorite treat'... I mean, it's 2017! Is it possible that someone's password is as lame as 'chocolate' or 'peanut butter'? Even with an at sign instead of an 'a' or that kind of stuff, it's freaking ridiculous."

"Try 'mydick'," Sandor suggested, with the utmost seriousness. "Either that or... 'mynuts'."

Sansa gaped, while Tommen chuckled. After a couple of attempts - adding capital letters here and there - the boy heaved a sigh a relief. "We cracked his password!" he announced proudly. He grinned as Sansa patted his shoulder. "What are we looking for, now?"

It seemed obvious that Meryn Trant wouldn't say a word to help Tommen find whatever file he kept on his laptop. Tight-lipped and cornered by Cersei - in the literal sense - he observed the little group gravitating around his laptop with a mix of rage and apprehension.

"Look for videos," Sandor suggested. "And please stay away from the porn stuff he probably downloaded: we're just looking for CCTV footage."

A few clicks later, Sansa, Sandor and Joffrey were all standing behind Tommen as the boy opened a file containing several low quality videos. He picked a video at random and played it. The moment they saw several female members of the Tyrell family, giggling and dancing by the swimming pool at night, their gaudy beach dresses and bikinis lit by spotlights, they all recognized one of Joffrey's pool parties, months ago.

"Is this the night Elinor Tyrell performed a strip tease?" Tommen asked. Leaning against the back of his chair, Sansa saw his round cheeks reddening.

"I thought it was Megga!" Joffrey answered. "Oh, here you go, that's Megga going topless... Yes, that's her! Naughty girl... What did I tell you, Tommen? I was drunk, but I have very vivid memories of that night."

Sansa mentally facepalmed. So this is why Meryn Trant didn't want us to check his laptop? Sweating profusely, the Lannisters' employee looked them up and down. Suddenly she remembered Sandor's words and her gaze shifted back to the screen of Trant's laptop. So am I on one of these videos? Sandor implied that Cersei and I could be on them… She soon felt Sandor's eyes on her, but Joffrey's presence deterred her from glancing at him.

Focused on his task, Tommen was already turning his attention to another video kept by Meryn Trant. Sansa's heart skipped a beat; she feared to see herself this time.

Like the previous one, the video had been shot by night, the spotlights casting long shadows on the granite decking as Cersei padded across it. When she stopped by the swimming pool, she drained what looked very much like a Martini glass then unceremoniously bent forward to put it down. Sansa noticed she was barefoot.

Cersei drinking by the swimming pool… What's the matter with this video? she wondered. Next to her, Joffrey looked just as puzzled as she was.

"Holy shit!"

The second her eyes moved back to the video because of Tommen's muffled cry, she saw Cersei reaching back to unzip her sheath dress and wriggling out of it. Ill-at-ease, Sansa briefly glanced at the blond woman who kept a close eye on Trant, unaware of what her sons were watching at the same moment.

"Do we need to see more?" Sansa asked, her voice shaking, but nobody seemed to listen. The woman on the video was now taking off her underwear - some precious, lacy bra with matching panties which came either from La Perla or from Carine Gilson. Discarded by her careless owner, the bra gracefully fell in the water. Leavers lace and chlorine or how to ruin a 300 $ bra: great job, Cersei.

Instead of pausing the video, the two Lannister brothers stared helplessly at it as Cersei dipped her toes in the water. "Will you pause it, now?" Sansa tried again, finally leaning over Tommen's shoulder to press the spacebar.

"I can't believe it," Joffrey mouthed, running his hand down his face.

"What, darling? What is it you can't believe?" Cersei's question made both her sons flinch. "Is it Margaery Tyrell performing the Dance of the Seven Veils, this time?"

The silence that followed made the blond woman frown. "Speak! What is it you can't believe? What is it Sansa didn't want you to watch?"

Joffrey shifted from foot to foot. "Mother, I thought- I thought skinny dipping was more a... teenager thing."

"I guess it is. Why are you talking about skinny dipping, Joffrey?" As her son remained silent, Cersei's green eyes widened. She realized what this is about, Sansa mused. "Oh," Cersei said. Then, spinning on her heels to face the man who had kept a copy of the CCTV footage: "You, my dear, are in serious trouble!"

"How did you know?" Joffrey asked Sandor, while Tommen tried to decide what video to watch next.

"Walked in on him once, a couple of months ago. Trant was with his laptop, and… I recognized the footage of the camera overlooking the patio. There was… your mother… sunbathing and Trant was, well..."

The embarrassed silence that followed was interrupted by Cersei's gasp of horror. Quickly turning around, she gave them a puzzled look. "Was this scumbag doing what I think he was doing?" she inquired.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Jerking off to a video of my mother?" Joffrey sounded hysterical. "Is this what my father asked when we hired you, Trant?" An embarrassed silence was Trant's only reply. He stared alternatively at Cersei and at the little group around Tommen with contempt. Joffrey needed answers though and if he wasn't going to get them from Trant, he expected Sandor to satisfy his curiosity. "There's one thing I don't quite understand, Sandor. Why didn't you tell me earlier, hmm?"

"I'm telling you now."

Joffrey snorted at his remark.

"I had no proof." Sandor's defense was weak and if the stiffness in his bearing was any indication, he knew it. Over Joffrey's shoulder, Sansa saw the man she loved clench his jaw.

Cersei heaved a sigh before slowly crossing the room, the sound of her heels on the floor almost threatening. "Anyway, Sandor, it doesn't explain why you turned off the camera, the other day."

"Yes it does. I didn't want this fucker to keep doing this-" He gestured at the laptop. "I didn't want him to copy more videos."

"Joffrey said you turned off the camera in the morning, at 8 something. I wasn't sunbathing on the patio, let alone 'skinny dipping'…" Exasperated, Cersei made quotation marks in the air.

Sandor swept the room, taking in Trant's pale face, then those of the Lannisters, and finally meeting Sansa's eyes. "Sansa was there. She swam a bit, then took a shower. There's a pretty clear view on the shower from the camera, so you know… I told myself Joffrey wouldn't like it if another guy got an eyeful of his girlfriend showering."

"Of course not." Cersei's voice turned ice cold as she gazed at Sansa. "We don't want our innocent little dove being eyed up by some perv…" Again, she turned to Trant, pointing at him. "Because that's what you are, a perv!"

Tommen cleared his throat. "Shall I delete all the videos, Mom?"

Bringing her hands to her hips, Cersei sighed deeply. "Let's keep the videos and the laptop as well, for now. As evidence. Trant, go pack your things and leave. You have thirty minutes."

As expected, Trant immediately protested about his dismissal and went on a tirade about the employees' rights; Tommen and Joffrey were discussing the safest place to keep Trant's laptop and they seemed to have forgotten Sansa and Sandor's existence. While the others were more or less arguing, she met the head of security's gray eyes. Tonight he saved his skin, she thought. His skin and mine. I doubted him earlier, I convinced myself he had no idea what he was doing when he said he had a plan.

If he resented her for not trusting him about the camera, Sandor didn't let it show.

"Someone's got to check the CCTV," he announced, addressing Joffrey.

"Of course, please do." Joffrey vaguely gestured at the door then turned to his younger brother again.

Not even an apology after accusing him… Tommen and Sansa exchanged an appalled glance. Sansa decided the youngest of the Lannisters was just as sorry as she was for Sandor, who walked out of the office in two strides.

"Take a deep breath in through the nose, then a long breath out through the mouth. Good, let's come out of child's pose now… Let's try- let's try something special today, something great to release tension." The brunette on the video smiled as she looked at the camera. The decor - white walls and a wooden floor, indoor plants on the sides and a big window behind the yoga teacher - was familiar to Sansa, just like the woman's voice, friendly and reassuring.

After Trant got fired, Sansa thought it safer to forget about the yoga lessons she gave Sandor, so she was back to her favorite videos - and to her solitary practice. As a matter of fact, she had not seen Sandor since he had left the office the night before.

"So, you're sitting on your heels. Big toes to touch, knees opened as wide as your yoga mat. Now lean forward slightly and place your hands on your mat, in front of you. Part of your weight is resting on your wrists, but most of it is still on your base. If you're familiar with these videos, you know where we're heading to…" The yoga teacher gave the camera a knowing smile. "If you're new to this practice, if this is your first time joining us then… be prepared for something that seems a bit awkward. We call this 'Lion's breath'!"

The more ridiculous we look on our mats, the more cheerful she gets, Sansa thought, slowly shaking her head and suppressing an indulgent smile. She was already following the woman's instructions. God knew she needed to release tension after the hell of a time she had had lately.

"So here we go: you take a deep breath in then you stick your tongue out on the exhale and at the same time you gaze at your third eye. Like this…"

After a deep breath, the woman opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue while squinting. The gurgling sound of her breath was just as bizarre as the pose and she ended up chuckling before turning to the camera again. "OK, this, my friends, was the lion's breath. If I can do this on Youtube so can you. Let's do this three times." Then, with a mischievous look, she added: "Let the lion inside you roar."

It was one of the things Sansa loved about these videos: the instructor never took herself too seriously and therefore liberated her viewers of their complexes. Sansa chose not to ask herself if she looked silly or not - the perks of doing yoga alone - and she therefore did as she was told, exhaling noisily and squinting to look at her third eye. In a way, the name of the pose brought her back to the events of the night before, as she associated the lion with the Lannisters. They roared, like Joffrey accusing Sandor of compromising the family's safety. Their behavior frightened other people - Sansa had learned to fear them. That being said, they often made fools of themselves, trusting the wrong person, like Joffrey who probably kicked himself for relying on Trant. Cersei's skinny dipping was another proof of the Lannisters' ability to make terrible choices. Remembering Cersei's green eyes widening when she had realized what her son had seen her doing on the video, she laughed quietly. Sometimes the Lannisters didn't need anyone's help to find themselves in a difficult situation.

After what she considered a close call, Sansa had decided to keep herself on her toes; now that Meryn Trant was gone and that Sandor was in Joffrey's good graces again, getting caught would be be too stupid. She therefore didn't try to see Sandor at the Lannisters' and they kept their exchanges to a minimum. A couple of texts here and there were not enough for her: Sansa wanted some alone time to discuss the recent events and to see how Sandor envisioned the future. There she was two days after Trant's dismissal, stuck between her desire to keep a low profile and her need for a real, lengthy conversation with Sandor.

In order to pull the wool over Joffrey's eyes, she kept going to the campus as if everything was normal, attending lectures and preparing her assignments in the library. A large and non-descript building, the library used to be Sansa's safe haven in the campus. The students who haunted the library were quiet people who didn't judge her nor expect anything from her, except an occasional tip on how to coax the cantankerous employee who kept the rare books and documents. Inside the library people minded their own business and it was why Sansa felt good there.

She had been seated at a table for almost two hours, working on an essay about euergetism in the late Hellenistic period and she had serious doubts about what she had written so far. Did these donations she was writing about match Paul Veyne's definition of euergetism? Shouldn't they be considered as mere philanthropy? It was confusing. She snapped her book shut, stretched her arms over her head and finally put them behind her head, hands clasped and elbows out.

A girl shuffled past her, carrying her laptop and most likely going home. On her left, two students sat hunched over their books. Sansa sighed, hesitating. Going back to the Lannisters' house or staying there for another couple of hours? It was almost 6 PM and she suspected Joffrey was somewhere with his friends, maybe trying to flirt with Margaery. As far she knew, Joffrey's attempts to seduce Margaery weren't very successful. The night before, as she gazed through the family room French window, she had caught a glimpse of him sitting in his car as he waited for the automatic garage door to open. He had stayed there long after the garage door was open, head hanging, then at some point he had hit the steering wheel with such violence Sansa had cringed. Later, that night, Joff had announced her they were going to attend Megga's birthday party the next week and that he expected her to look her best. It was pretty easy to read between the lines. Marge drives him mad and he didn't make any progress with her.

Thinking about Joffrey gave her a good reason not to go back to the Lannisters' yet and Sansa decided to keep working on her assignment until she was halfway through it. Sansa pushed back her chair and stood up, then smoothed her denim miniskirt as she walked to the nearest bookshelf above which a sign read 'Hellenistic period'. Maybe she'd find something useful, maybe she'd just get an occasion to stretch her legs: it didn't matter at this point. She scanned the spines of the books on the shelf, trying to remember the name of an historian her teacher had mentioned once, when talking about donations. Can't be far. It's on the tip of my tongue... Coleman… No. Is it something like Colden? A frustrated sigh escaped her lips, then she crouched to check the lowest shelves. Nothing. Raising to her full height and craning her neck, she swept the top shelf unsuccessfully and it was when she turned around to go back to her seat, a look of defeat on her face, that she saw him across the large room. Her mind went blank because the campus library meant her teachers and her fellow students, not Sandor Clegane.

And yet there he was. He had spotted her and was striding toward the corner of the room where she stood, ignoring the perplexed students who visibly wondered what a man with his looks was doing in the library.

"Hey, little bird," he rasped, stopping in front of her. As she didn't answer immediately and even took a step back to lean against the bookshelf, a smile tugged the corner of his mouth and Sansa understood he took pleasure in her puzzled look.

"What- What are you doing here?" she managed to ask.

He shrugged. "Saw your car and told myself I'd stop and say hi. We didn't get many occasions to talk lately." Was it the shock of seeing him in a place where she never thought they would meet or was it his gaze on her? Her knees wobbled and she chided herself for what she considered a proof of weakness.

"What if Joffrey or one of his friends sees us?" Her tone was a bit stiff as she uttered her concerns.

A chuckle welcomed her question. "Tell me something, little bird: when was the last time you saw the little shit and his minions here?"

He scores a point. "Right. They're not exactly the bookworm types but-" She thought of the security gate and the not-so-welcoming woman who checked the comings and goings of the students. "How did you manage to get in here?"

Sandor inched forward and gave her a wry smile, before gazing down at her curves. Head hanging, the curtain of his dark face concealing part of his face, Sandor turned his attention on the mother-of-pearl buttons of her sleeveless shirt; his fingers hovered over the shiny little disks, touching them from time to time. "I can't really pose as a student anymore, can I? That's why I had to charm the lady downstairs."

Trying to forget the little game he was playing with the buttons of her shirt, she tried to imagine what he could have told the woman at the security gate: did he frighten her? Did he bribe her? Before she could decide, the lanky frame of one of the librarians came into her range of vision.

"Quiet, please!" he hissed, crossing his bony arms about his chest.

Surprised, Sandor swiveled his head and quickly answered: "Sorry, man. We'll be quiet." At this moment, as he faced him, the librarian took in the deep burns on Sandor's face and he flinched. Maybe Sandor didn't see it, or maybe he didn't give a damn because he soon turned to Sansa again and went on: "This young lady can be very quiet. She proved it once."

And suddenly, Sansa's mind went back to that morning at the Lannisters' less than a week ago. Under Sandor's scrutiny, she remembered the mutual yearning and his hands on her. She now had her back against the bookshelf and Sandor's frame made any retreat impossible. Her cheeks grew hot as the librarian frowned at them, visibly exasperated.

Come on, Sansa, do something… On an impulse, she took Sandor's hand and led him to the table where she had left her laptop and books. She started to gather her things and stuffed them in her leather tote bag, before addressing the librarian: "We're leaving. See? I'll take my things. We won't bother you any longer."

One last suspicious glance at them and the man walked away. Sansa shouldered her bag, then her eyes met Sandor's again. He looked just as confused as she did moments ago, when she had noticed his presence. "Come," she whispered, taking his hand again.

As they crossed the large room, Sansa felt the gaze of the other students on them; they moved past the librarian's desk, arrived in the hallway and kept walking towards the staircase, but just before reaching it, Sansa opened one door on the right side of the hallway and led Sandor inside. A clang made him swear under his breath; she guessed he had stumbled over something and the second she switched the light on, she saw the metallic ladder the staff used to replace bulbs.

"The broom cupboard?" he commented, taking in the shelves filled with bottles of detergent, cardboard boxes and tools in one sweeping gaze. The smell of bleach filled the air. "What a resourceful little bird. What are we doing here, hmm?"

She shrugged, before putting her tote bag down. "You said you came here so you could talk to me," she began.

A nod, then the sly little smile came back. "I sure wanted to talk to you when we were out there, with other people around…" He paused, closing the distance between them. In the confined space of the broom cupboard, escaping him was nearly impossible, assuming she had any desire to do so. "Now that we're alone, on the other hand…"

Her cheeks burned again.

"You look embarrassed," he observed, his tone more tender than she expected.

'Embarrassed' didn't quite convey what she felt at the moment. Fluster, nervousness or trouble: those were all the things she experienced as Sandor's eyes wandered on her curves, making her heart beat faster. He cupped her face and stared at her intently, the pad of his thumb lightly brushing her lips. As a reflex, she took a deep breath, expecting a kiss that didn't come. Instead, his fingers left the oval of her face to hover over the shiny buttons of her shirt - again. The mocking smile playing about his lips drove her mad.

Quit playing with my nerves, she thought, her voice so loud in her head she wondered if he could hear her words. "Are you going to kiss me?"

Sandor froze reluctantly. "Maybe. But first, this door needs to remain closed." He glanced around the small room, spotted a chair with a broken back and blocked the door with it. When their eyes met again, she read doubt in Sandor's.

"What is it?"

"I expected more than kisses, Sansa, but maybe- Maybe kisses were all you wanted."

Always that nagging impression we don't understand each other. Leaning back against the wall, she shook her head and drew him closer. "I expect more than kisses."

The gray eyes bored into hers before he lifted her so that their faces touched. Her arms wrapped around his neck, she gently kissed his chapped lips. This first kiss prompted another one, deeper, more feverish, that put a throb between her legs. It's a choice, she mused, whimpering into his mouth. I choose him and the rest doesn't matter. When she would replay this scene in her mind, Sansa would acknowledge that she didn't hitch her leg up over his hipbone on impulse, but because it was exactly what she wanted. She soon felt his hands leaving her waist to move down, until he lifted her up again and her legs wrapped his middle. He had his hands beneath her ass and a low groan escaped his lips when they were not pressed to Sansa's.

Her sleeveless shirt first hit the floor, soon followed by his own button-down. Sandor merely pushed down the straps of her bra to cup her breasts. By this time, she was rocking her hips against his and she couldn't ignore his cock was hard. The moment he gently set her back on her feet, giving her a long look, there was no need for words.

"Yes," she whispered against his neck. Her precarious position in Sandor's arms had hitched up her miniskirt. She only broke their embrace to reach beneath her skirt and to take off her panties; when she was done, she gazed at him intently, undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants and freed his cock from his underpants, her hands barely trembling. Excitement had replaced awkwardness and the fact Sandor stood still, letting her do as she pleased, felt strangely pleasant. Empowering.

Her back pressed against the wall, she sighed deeply as he hoisted her up in his arms, then she clung to him when he slid a finger inside her, mumbling something about her being wet. He shifted, placed his hands under her butt cheeks and before long he was inside her, moving slowly, visibly restraining himself. At first her face was buried against his bare chest and she breathed in his scent. When her muscles relaxed a bit, she rested her chin on his shoulder, batting her eyelashes open and taking in the incongruous decor of their secret meeting, with its old metallic shelves and the somewhat dusty light bulb hanging from the ceiling. This is really happening. We're in the broom cupboard of the campus library and I'm with the man I love and I trust. Eyes fixed on the ugly light bulb until its bright light dazzled her, she let herself go and rocked her hips against Sandor's. His pace changed too as he now pounded inside her, letting out a grunt here and there.

She came first, her moaning muffled by Sandor's kisses and her body still tingled when he found his own release, resting his head in the crook of Sansa's neck.

Later that night, as she replayed the events of the late afternoon in her head, Sansa wouldn't be able to say who had broken their embrace or who had started putting their clothes back on. She'd remember he had been the first one to speak though. "We really need to find a quiet place… A place of our own."

Sansa, who had kept her back to him while getting dressed out of modesty, turned to him at once. He sounded detached and he avoided her eyes as if what he had just said wasn't important, but she was no sucker.

It took her some time to find the right words, then she said, "I don't know what makes me happier, the fact you want to find a place for us, or this…" She gestured at him, a lump in her throat.

"What?"

"This," she repeated, her voice a little shaky. "You stating that you want to find a place for us. Finally accepting this is more than a fling."

Taking up his old habits again, he shrugged. "Fuck. It took me a while to, you know, accept it."

A long silence ensued. They were both fully clothed and it was obvious that they couldn't stay there forever.

"The strangest thing happened," Sansa confessed. "Tyrion Lannister came to me and offered his help." Mindlessly, she combed her long hair with her fingers.

"The fuck?"

"He knows about us, Sandor, and he said he'd help us run away." She then told him her exchange with the Imp in minute detail.

"Do you trust him?" Sandor finally asked her. "What does your gut feeling tell you?"

Although she had been wondering what to do about the Imp for the last couple of days, the answer came to her easily. "I think- I think we can trust him."

Sandor remained silent for a while, arms folded. "If you think he can be trusted then…" he rasped. "I'll talk to the bloody Imp. See what the little man has to say about his little plan, assuming he already has one. But first…" His hand on the doorknob, he leaned forward to kiss her. "First I'll look for a place. For us."