"Here we are! Mission: Space!" Sansa proclaimed, leading Sandor into the dark building. Their Fast passes let them move along the walkways fairly quickly, until they were standing near the loading doors. Sandor turned to read a sign nearby. "Enclosed spaces? Claustrophobia?" He didn't sound thrilled. Sansa squeezed his hand. "It's not that bad, really. You're just sitting in a small seat." Sandor twisted his mouth. "I don't fit in small seats, girl." "It's like sitting in a real rocket ship! It's cool! Besides, it's interactive. We each get a role that we have to fulfill at certain moments during the ride." He merely grunted in response.

Two middle school boys were put in the line with them, and Sansa bit her lip to hold back laughter. They took one look at Sandor and almost wetted their pants. She could hear them whispering, "Should we leave and come back? This guy might kill us!" Sansa glanced at Sandor, and instantly felt her humor deflate. It must be horrible to have people frightened of you all the time. He might not act like it; in fact, Sandor seemed to be feasting off of the boys' fear as he adopted a menacing and brooding expression with his arms folded. But she knew it was also something that contributed to his bitter and resentful attitude towards other people.

Eager to ease the tension, Sansa slipped her hands into the crook of his elbow, clasping her fingers together and resting her cheek against his arm. Sandor raised an eyebrow and looked at her, but the corner of his mouth twitched and she caught a bit of twinkle in his eye.

When it was their turn to board the ride, the two boys tried to cut in front so they could get seats away from Sandor, but he gave them a thunderous glare which stopped them in their tracks, and gave Sansa a gentle push forwards so she could board first. Giggling, she squeezed into the seat at the far end and Sandor sat next to her, with the two boys to his right. "Damn," Sandor hissed as he tried putting down the safety bar. "They weren't kidding about small spaces." His head was almost reaching the top of the compartment.

He proceeded to curse and make crewd jokes the rest of the ride, even saying he wouldn't do his role so he could see if they would crash. Sansa could barely contain her mirth, knowing he was doing this simply to frighten the wits out of the two boys, who couldn't say a word the entire time. When the ride was over they scurried out, almost tripping over the step.

"I think you almost made them cry," Sansa giggled. "Good, then my work here is done," Sandor chuckled darkly, cracking his knuckles and throwing an arm around her waist to pull her close.

Sansa insisted he not drink any more alcohol until they had used their other Fast passes; she didn't want him to get sick. He grumbled about it but relented when she pulled him behind a building and they made out for a few minutes. Sansa could barely believe her own audacity, but Sanor made her feel giddy and excited and alive. This…thing that was happening between her and Sandor had dissolved her past regrets with Joffrey and lifted her spirits. She was sure it was having a positive effect on Sandor too.

He seemed to enjoy Test Track a lot more, especially when they got to design their own car together. They came to a mutual decision that it should look as close to the Batmobile as possible, and the result was a sleek black car with terrific speed and endurance. When the ride started their car was doing the best out of all the tests, and in the end they won the highest points.

"It's because we were channeling Batman. Everyone else's car sucked," Sandor said as they walked past the room filled with expensive cars that people were taking pictures with. "I agree. You can't go wrong with anything Batman-themed," Sansa responded.

After they rode Soarin', it was reaching early evening, and they were getting tired from walking around so much. Sansa pulled the map out of her purse to glance over the meal options, but Sandor snatched it from her. "Hey!" He smirked and pulled her closer, tucking the map under his arm. "Let me take you to dinner, little bird." Her breath caught in her throat. "Like a…like a date? That kind of dinner?" He chuckled and she felt warmth spread through her. "Yes, little bird. That kind of a dinner."

"Okay." Oh my gosh! She shouted inwardly, biting her lip as he glanced over the map this time. This was going to be so romantic! Sansa wished she was wearing something a little nicer, like one of her cute sun-dresses, but she hadn't wanted to have any accidents on the rides. She started combing her fingers through her hair, trying to tame the tangled mess it probably was.

After a quick bathroom stop to clean up a little, Sandor led her back over to France and up to a very gourmet looking restaurant called Monsieur Paul. They had to make a reservation, but the wait time wasn't long so they took seats by the lake and relaxed until their name was called.

A hostess led them to the table, and Sansa stared at their surroundings. It was a beautiful restaurant, very elegant, and very French. The ambiance was relaxing and pleasant, and they were seated by a window over-looking some of the gardens with the late sun streaming in.

"This is so nice," Sansa breathed when the hostess left them. "I saw it earlier when we walked through," Sandor said, flipping his menu open. "I thought you'd like it." "I do. Thank you, Sandor," she smiled at him, wishing they were sitting closer so she could snuggle into his side. He grinned and winked at her.

Their waitress came by, and Sandor ordered some kind of drink while Sansa stuck with ice water. All the food sounded so good, and they both ended up ordering the same entrée: grilled beef tenderloin with a mushroom crust, mashed potatoes, and topped with Bordelaise sauce. The scent of someone else's dinner wafted by and Sansa felt her stomach growl in anticipation.

"Does anyone in your family know that you've been with me?" Sandor asked as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table and folding his hands loosely. "Arya knows…it was kind of hard to hide it from her since we share a room, and she's a naturally suspicious person anyways," Sansa answered, twisting the paper from her straw around her finger. "Everyone else has been too busy: Dad has the conference, Mom has Bran and Rickon…and the older boys do their own thing. Some of Arya's friends showed up in town, so she's been hanging with them. I guess they haven't noticed that I've been "by myself" the last couple of days." She made quotation marks in the air with her fingers.

"What did your sister say?" He took a sip of his drink, never taking his eyes off her.

"She…thought it was weird, but I made her promise not to tell anyone." Sansa was suddenly nervous. Did Sandor want her family to know? Or did he want to keep it a secret?

He nodded slowly, looking thoughtful. "Is that…alright? I mean…" Sansa wasn't really sure how to word the question. Joffrey had always made her hide things, and she had kept the abusive part of their relationship a secret from her family as well. She didn't really want to have to do that anymore, but things were so new with Sandor and so sudden.

"It's up to you. Though it might be best to at least let them know we've been hanging out together, rather than for someone to just see us at the parks," Sandor responded. That made sense. Her parents might not like it (in fact Sansa was certain they wouldn't) but then they wouldn't have to sneak around so much. It would be a lot easier to enjoy themselves without constantly peering over their shoulders. Though with the way their "friendship" was escalating, Sansa was certain they would have to be secretive to an extent regardless.

"If my family wasn't ok with us seeing each other…would you still want to hang out with me?" Sansa asked. The large man sitting before her gave a slight huff. "Yes. Don't get me wrong, it would make things easier, especially for you, but I don't need anyone's approval. The way I see it, we're both adults, and we can make our own decisions." He paused and reached out a finger to lightly trace her hand. "The only way I would stop trying to see you, little bird, is if you wanted me to." Sansa swallowed as a butterfly sensation filled her stomach. "I don't want you to," she whispered.

His mouth curled up slightly. "Good."

When their food arrived, the sun had reached its setting over the water. Everything was delicious and perfect, and Sansa surprised herself by eating every crumb. She hadn't really finished a whole meal in a long time…usually when she ate with Joffrey, he stressed her out to the point that she lost her appetite.

Sandor looked pleased when he saw her empty plate, and she remembered how he had urged her to eat at the Rainforest Café. "I'm guessing you enjoyed the food," he said as the waitress cleared their table. "Yes! I haven't eaten that much in a long time." "Would you like dessert?" the waitress asked smoothly, offering them a menu.

They chose a combination of vanilla ice cream and raspberry sorbet, and when the waitress left Sansa fiddled with her spoon, her thoughts still lingering on her past relationship with Joffrey. "He always said I shouldn't eat too much…he said I might gain weight and get ugly." There was no need to specify who "he" was. Sandor's eyes darkened and narrowed. "He's a damn fool, Sansa," he growled. "You'd be beautiful no matter what." Sansa studied his face for a few moments before she let a grin slip. "You wouldn't care if I got fat?" He rolled his eyes. "You could never get fat, little bird. Even if you tried." "But what if I did? What if I got so fat, I was one of those people they have to lift from their houses by a crane?" She was giggling hard, eager for his reaction. Sandor smirked and shook his head. "That is highly unlikely."

Then she realized he had called her beautiful, and the fluttering feeling returned to her stomach.

The waitress returned with their dessert, and Sansa and Sandor shared it, their sppons clinking against the plate until there was nothing left to scoop up. Sandor got her to try some of his drink, teasing her about not being old enough to drink, but the sweetness of the dessert ruined the flavor and made her cough.

"Thank you again, Sandor. This was lovely," Sansa sighed dreamily after he paid they walked out of the restaurant. He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close. "No need to keep thanking me," he said gruffly, but she saw the hint of a smile on his face. She decided to tease him more. "Really, it was! Who knew you were such a romantic, Sandor?" He snorted. "Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain." She laughed and made a cross over her heart. "Wild horses couldn't drag it from me."

Sandor wanted to try some beer from the Block & Hans, so they headed back to the America section and he ordered a Blue Point Toasted Lager, letting Sansa have a sip. She wrinkled her nose. "I like wine better." "Really? I can get you some if you want," Sandor offered. "Oh no, I shouldn't!" The good girl in her refused to drink any more that day. Her companion shrugged and finished his glass off, setting it at the counter. When he turned, Sansa giggled and reached up, wiping some foam from the corner of his mouth.

Sandor stuck his tongue out and licked her finger before she could pull away, chuckling at her blush. He placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her to sit near the water so they could watch IllumiNations, Epcot's firework display.

A/N: Kudos to LunarSinner for coming up with idea that Sandor would be a Batman fan :)

The little convo about being fat was inspired from "You've Got Mail", with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks