"WHAT?!"

Sansa is shrieking at him from behind her desk, her jaw dropped in a neat little "O" that has his mind whirring between kissing her lips or filling the space with something even more delicious, until her jaw snaps shut and her eyes light up with the most adorable fury.

He affects a bored tone and a casual stance, even flicking his eyes down towards the cell phone he has no idea how to work in his hands. "Yes, I called the Dean on your behalf but it appears the move-out deadline is final and he was in the process of having your things moved onto the curb as we spoke."

He was doing no such thing, and the deadline was in no way final until Tywin threatened to blackball him from any and every future form of employment unless he had Sansa's things packed up and deposited at his apartment. Immediately.

"But- I- How could he- are you KIDDING me?!"

Tywin thinks she rarely looks prettier than she does right now, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright, her long curls flying about as she gestures erratically.

She bolts up from her desk so quickly it appears she even takes her feet by surprise, and he barely chokes back a snicker when she stumbles to keep her balance. She marches around the corner, apparently deciding it is best to simply ignore that little display, and without a backward glance is barging towards the door until he casually calls her back.

"And where, Ms. Stark, do you think you are heading in that manner?"

He loves her for her fiery rage when she turns around and pierces him with a stare that earlier that very morning brought their accounts manager, Theon Greyjoy, to tears. "Oh, I don't know, Tywin." She cocks her hip and purses her lips, and if she weren't so damn cute he'd spank that tone right out of her.

Maybe throw her over his lap? Lift her skirt up and run his palms over her smooth-

"I had thought I'd go see about getting back my apartment and my things. Clearly. What else would I be doing?!"

He bites back his initial retort, deciding that cool and collected hero would suit him better in this instance than smug and annoyed hero. He shrugs a shoulder, flickering his gaze between her and the blank screen on his phone. "I already had your things packed up and took the liberty of sending them to my place. Since we didn't find anywhere suitable this weekend, and it wouldn't do to have an executive who is homeless, I assumed that would be the simplest solution. Unless you'd prefer the company put you up in a hotel?" He's careful to keep his eyes down until the end of the question, flicking up once to take in her dropped jaw and the warm tinge of her cheeks, before quickly glancing back down. "It is no matter to me, certainly. Whichever you'd prefer."

He waits a few beats, pretending to tap on the black screen, before glancing up to take in a smile so shy, so radiant, so utterly Sansa, that it nearly steals his breath.

"I would love to stay with you, Tywin," she breathes.

Apparently he's stolen her breath, too.

She opens her mouth, and by the embarrassed look on her face he knows she's about to walk it back, so before she can he gives her a curt nod and flips on his heel, headed towards the adjoining door to his office. "Very good. Let's head to the market on our way home at 6:00 to pick up some things to make your stay more comfortable.

As he pulls the door shut behind him, he can't resist raising his eyes to the cabinet across the room that affords him a reflective view of the starry sweet smile spread all over his pretty little redhead's face.

"What do you mean you're moving in with him Sansa?!" Margaery is squealing into the phone while Sansa briefly conveys the update in hushed whispers so that Tywin doesn't overhear from his office next door.

"I know! I mean, he made it sound like it was only temporary, but still, how exciting!" She is bouncing up out of her seat, heels tapping impatiently as she watches the clock change from 4:34 to 4:35 on her computer screen. Only a short hour and a half to go!

Margaery is extolling the virtues of sexy lingerie and the rules for living with a man while Sansa daydreams about lazy mornings and cooking dinner and all the fun things her and Tywin will now enjoy when she overhears "oh gods what will you do if you get your … monthly … while you're living together?!"

Sansa's heart sinks and her stomach flips as she realizes that little friend is supposed to visit sometime in the next week. "Oh, gods! I don't know! I mean- oh gods!"

"Let's be rational about this," Margaery muses, attempting to sound reassuring but coming off as one thousand percent unconvincing. "I mean, he was married before. So it's not like he doesn't know what occurs and hasn't lived with a woman during that time, right?"

"Right," Sansa answers reluctantly, all the while wondering if there's a pill or a shot or a something that she can take or do to make sure this mortifying occurrence never happens while she lives with him. "Or I can just move out. Immediately. As in the day after I move in. That will take care of it."

She hears Margaery swallow, and her tone is sad as she replies, "you can always stay with me if you need to, San."

Sansa blinks back a watery smile through the phone as she whispers, "thanks, Marg."

A few minutes before five, after he hears Sansa hang up with Margaery and get back to work, Tywin quickly leaves his office and heads towards a private conference room, phone in hand. Shutting the door behind him, he counts to five before dialing the maid who is presently re-arranging his, their, closet and unpacking Sansa's things in his, their, home.

"Irri, I need you to pick up whatever the lady will require in terms of feminine hygiene products and stock those in her side of the bathroom vanity as well," he orders, his tone neutral and prompt brooking no room for questions.

Irri doesn't miss a breath as she replies "certainly, Mr. Lannister, shall I also purchase toiletries as well for the shower and bath?" with so much composure and professionalism he vows then and there to give her a raise.

"Yes, that would be excellent, thank you. In fact, if you wouldn't mind purchasing a selection of products and things you think she may require based on her wardrobe and what you've unpacked, I would be very grateful to you. How much time will you need?"

There's a pause, during which he can hear her scribbling a list, before she answers "if you can wait to come home until after 7:30, Mr. Lannister, I'll have it all put away and ready for a surprise, should you wish to surprise her."

As he hangs up the phone, Tywin decides she will also receive a generous bonus come holiday season, too.

They are in the middle of the frozen foods aisle, having raided the fresh fruits and veggies as well as the snacks, when Sansa attempts to explain to him the heaven that is Ben and Jerry's Half-Baked ice cream. "Seriously Tywin, we have to have this."

He is dubious, his expression a mixture of amusement and annoyance, as she continues to needle him and extoll the ice cream's virtues when he turns his attention back to the shelf. She sees his eyes catch, and he knows she knows she has him when he suddenly seems to focus in on one pint in particular. "Do you see something you'd prefer instead?"

He shoots her a faint glare out of the corner of his eye before sighing and nodding towards the Cherry Garcia. "I suppose one carton of that flavor would be acceptable," he replies drolly, and her eyes light up as she tosses in a pint of each into the cart.

She meets his glare with a glare of her own. "You did say we were shopping for me, Tywin. You're lucky I even allowed you to put that in the cart."

Her tinkling laugh sends a shiver straight to his groin as she shoots him a sly smile over her shoulder and saunters down the aisle in the direction of the checkout line.

The checkout line, which is now a mile long. He suddenly remembers why he pays Irri to shop for groceries, too.

Sansa appears unconcerned as she flips through a gossip magazine and chatters absently to him about who is now with whom, what movies are coming out, which television shows she'd like to see. He's happy just to listen, nodding along with a faint smile tilting his lips, before the growl of her stomach makes even the gentleman in front of them shoot her a glance.

She starts to look embarrassed until she glances up and sees his smirk, and she drops her shame like a hot potato to play along with him instead. "So, what are you planning on feeding me for dinner tonight, roomie?" She asks him with a twinkle in her eye.

She's so busy smiling up at him she misses the horrified glance of the man now staring openly from in front of them. He doesn't though. And it doesn't take him more than a second to lean down and sear her lips in a heated kiss, right there in the middle of the supermarket. "Oh, were you planning on eating tonight, my dear?" He'd usually whisper, but now he wants the man to know that she is his and coming home with him, and she doesn't seem to mind based on the pleasant flush of her cheeks and her dreamy smile.

"Among other things," she teases back, and it isn't until she wraps her fingers around his and winks at him while nodding at the bright red neck of the man in front of them that he realizes she's known all along.

"If we make it out of the bedroom, that is," she continues loudly, containing her giggles until the man quickly pays for his groceries and sprints towards the exit, at which point she collapses into a fit of laughter, leaning against his arm as he swipes his credit card and grants her a smile.

Without a backward glance towards the stares in their direction, some confused, some with soft smiles, she twines her arm through his and leans her head on his shoulder as they stroll out into the night.

His hands are full of bags of groceries while hers are full of Chinese takeout as they come to a halt at the door to his, no their, she chides herself, apartment. He'd questioned why they could not simply eat at a restaurant when she pouted and batted her lashes and chastised him for not wanting to sit on the floor and binge on takeout and talk about their hopes and dreams the way she and Margaery did when they first moved into the dorms.

He had rolled his eyes and muttered something about how Lannisters do not eat on the floor, but complied and drove them to what he claimed served the best fried rice this side of Dorne.

Now here they are, shoulder to bicep (she is not nearly tall enough to be shoulder to shoulder), both staring at the closed door. She is a mixture of anxious excitement and nervous anticipation, and is beginning to wonder if he is thinking this was all a mistake before he shifts the bags, digs his keys out of his pocket, and puts them in the lock.

She waits with bated breath, shimmering with excitement, until she huffs out a breath and whines "Tywin" as he continues to rest his hand on the key.

"I thought perhaps we could open the door together, if that would be acceptable to you?" His tone is bland and his eyebrow is raised, but she can tell by the sudden stillness that sweeps through him that he is just as anxious and excited as she is.

"Yes!" She blurts, clasping her hand around his on the key and twisting it, ignoring his huff of laughter as she shoves the door open wide and marches right in.

"I cannot believe I forgot to have that done today," she hears him mutter behind her, as he gently shuts the door and she stands there in wonder, eyes sweeping the place she's been in more than a few times but searching with renewed awe now that she is to call it home.

"Done what?" She mumbles absently, still looking here and there as he strolls past her in the direction of the kitchen.

"I forgot to have your key made."

She smiles so wide her cheeks hurt as she kicks off her shoes and rushes to the coffee table, unpacking container after container while he puts away the groceries. "That's okay, it just means you're stuck with me until then."

As she tiptoes into the kitchen to grab two sets of chopsticks out of the silverware drawer, she swears she hears him mumble then perhaps I won't make you a key after all.

She is stuffed to the brim and sprawled on the sofa as he puts away their leftovers and positively refuses to thaw out their pints of icecream. "I believe we have indulged enough this evening, though if you simply must have a sweet, as you've so dramatically declared, perhaps one of these will do?"

She cranes her head in interest, trying to see what he's hiding behind his back as he walks back towards her with a smirk on his lips and a light in his eyes. "Oh?"

"Left or right."

She bites her lip in a grin and pretends to think long and hard. "Right!"

His hand shoots out and his fingers open, revealing a lemon curd cookie nestled in one long palm. Her eyes light up and she snatches it with glee, biting with a moan that makes his pants tighten noticeably from where he's standing before her.

As she licks every last crumb from the tips of her fingers she notices he still has his left hand hidden behind his back. "And if I'd said left?"

His smile makes him twenty years younger as his left hand slowly comes out in front and his fingers open, revealing a second cookie. "I had a feeling if I brought you only one, you'd threaten to leave immediately."

His tone is so serious, in contrast to the twinkle in his eyes, and her heart is pounding out of her chest as she pretends to nod in agreement. "I most certainly would have, and you wouldn't want that now, would you?"

Suddenly his eyes match his tone, and there's a warmth in his gaze that calls an answering warmth and flutter in her core when he slightly shakes his head. "No, I most certainly wouldn't, Sansa."

Her cheeks flush bright and she can't contain a bashful smile, and seeing him looking at her like that makes her want to dance and jump and climb right into his arms and call Margaery all at once.

Thankfully, he prompts her before she does something too terrifyingly embarrassing. "Would you like to have a look around to see if things are to your liking?"

With a jolt she realizes she has yet to ask where her things are and whether this is as intimate as she's assumed it is and whether she has been plopped in the guest room or will be sharing his room. Her cheeks flush bright and she nods with enthusiasm, jumping off the couch and heading down the hall, him trailing behind her.

She pauses mid-way down the hallway, glancing between the closed master bedroom and the closed guest room, and tingles all the way down to her toes when she hears a chuckle behind her. "What is a master bedroom without a mistress presiding in it?" rumbles into the shell of her ear.

She shoots him a saucy smile over her shoulder as she skips down the hall and pushes open the door.

At first glance, it looks exactly as it always does.

At second glance, it is completely different.

There are a bevy of perfumes on one side of the dressing table, and a jewelry stand with her necklaces and bracelets and earrings displayed next to a new little bench in front. There's a fresh vase of flowers and a select stack of her books on the left nightstand, and her stuffed direwolf is neatly waiting on the top of the left side of the headboard, resting feet away from a new stuffed lion on the top of the right. Her slippers are next to the bed, her robe is hung next to his on the back of the bathroom door, and there's a second row of books that are all hers on the bookshelf below his.

She is blinking back tears when he lightly rests a hand on the small of her back and leans down to whisper in her ear with wry amusement. "Explore left or explore right, but please go all the way in and explore."

She walks in a daze in the direction of the closet, and as the lights come on and the shelves come to life she sees that all of her shoes and clothes and underthings are put away in half of the shelves, along with a bunch of new items, too. She runs her fingertips lovingly over first her things, then his, and her heart is in her throat and she's smiling look a fool by the time she turns and makes her way to the bathroom. She's not sure where he's disappeared to but is in such a fog of happiness she doesn't even care as she pushes open the bathroom door and the tears start to fall.

She has a matching set of crimson towels, alternating to his gold, and a toothbrush in the holder, and several different shower necessities on the shelf. But the drawers, oh the drawers. It is the first with all new Sephora makeup, followed by the second with every hair styling product she could ever need, followed by the third with a nice variety of feminine products allaying her fears from her call with Margaery earlier, that have her completely melting into a puddle of happy tears.

His throat clearing behind her makes her spin around with a hasty smile, haphazardly wiping away her tears and jumping into his open arms. "Is everything to your liking?" His chest rumbles in her ear, and she is nodding and lifting her head as she hears him chuckle while his thumbs cup her face and brush away her tears.

"Very well then." He sounds embarrassed yet pleased, and without a second thought she wraps her hands around his neck and pulls him down for a kiss.

The second their lips touch sets her skin on fire, and waves of heat lick down to her core as his hands slide around from where they were cupping her face to twine in her hair, tendrils of curls wrapping between long skilled fingers as he takes control and angles her head, deepening the kiss and curling his tongue in a way that curls her toes.

She is breathless and shaking with excitement when he pulls away to trail kisses down her neck, pausing to lick a trail of fire back up to the shell of her ear, one hand still fisting in her hair as the other splays down her back to gently knead the cheeks of her ass. The moan it pulls out of her comes from somewhere so deep it must be her soul, and she is sure she will faint from need by the time he starts to push her further into the bathroom, not bothering to kick the door shut behind him.

She moans out his name like a question and a prayer all wrapped up into one, and shivers when his hands slide until the hem of her blouse, un-tucking it from her pencil skirt and sliding it up and over her head. "I thought perhaps with all the excitement of the day," he rumbles against her skin, peppering kisses across the tender flesh of the tops of her breasts, "a shower before bed might be in order?"

"Oh, yes," she breaks off in a hiss, tossing her head back as he nips one pert nipple over the fabric of her lace bra while his fingers slide the zipper down on her skirt.

His tongue is trailing over the smooth skin of her abdomen as she twines her fingers in his hair and steps out of the skirt at her feet while he growls at the wetness his fingers encounter through the matching lace shorts she's wearing below. "Well, if you're sure…" One long arm snakes out and around behind her to flip the faucet on high while the elegant fingers of the other hand hooks in the crotch of the lace, careful not to touch her as he goes to his knees while sliding it down past her feet. The kisses come back up, close but so very far from where she's aching and wants him most, as he makes his way back to his feet and unhooks her bra, sliding that off as well.

She's hazy with desire, bursting with happiness, and so wrapped up that when he gently pushes her into the spray of the water it momentarily stuns her before she bubbles out a laugh. He shakes his head with a smile and she turns her back and steps all the way into the deep walk-in shower, running her fingertips over the bevy shampoos before selecting her favorite bottle of the bunch. She lathers up and begins to scrub, piling her hair up high, and is dreamily soaking in the warm beat of the water on her shoulders that the second pair of hands that begin to scrub her scalp make her momentarily jump before sinking back into his bare chest with a contended sigh.

"I wondered if you'd join me," she murmurs, feeling like she's floating in a dream, as he works and lathers her hair before gently rinsing it clean and reaching for a corresponding bottle of conditioner.

"How could I resist?" He growls into her ear, gathering her hair and combing the conditioner through with his fingers.

She is putty in his hands, a ball of relaxation, her eyes closed and her muscles slack by the time he begins to wash her down with a silky soap lathered on a cloth. Her mind is in the clouds, wandering in space, until he works his way around from behind, two strong arms nearly pinning her to the back of the shower while the cloth lightly scrubs over the tips of her arched breasts, trailing down to tease over the front of her mound. He works the cloth between her legs, a delicious friction gliding over her clit, and her legs are shaking and her head is tossed back on his shoulder moaning his name when he suddenly bends his knees and thrusts into her from behind with a groan of her name.

His pace is slow and leisurely as he works her clit with the washcloth while she braces her hands on the tile. His lips are on her neck, his groans answer her moans in her ear, and the feeling of him grinding into her like he has all the time in the world makes her fall apart in no time, clenching and fluttering around him with a sigh. Instead of working to his release, however, he gives her no time to come down, and circles the cloth faster and faster around her clit as he picks up the pace with the snap and twist of his hips, pounding her harder and harder until a second orgasm so strong a strangled scream bursts forth from between her lips, his name echoing across the tile as she collapses back fully into his arms while he chases his pleasure before groaning her name into her ear.

By the time they turn the water off she's a sleepy, sated, contented mess. He towels off each drop of water, following each slip of skin with a kiss, before gently drying her hair and handing her a brush while he towels off himself. As she finishes combing the tangles she sees him slip into a pair of boxer briefs and lounge pajama pants, and with a dazed smile makes her way to the dresser to see what pajamas she might find in her top drawer.

The silken slip is new, and she doesn't waste a moment before sliding it on and turning to slide into the pulled back sheets, snuggling up until her breast is against his arm while he reclines with some tomb on stocks to read. Her eyes have gently shut and a contented sigh has fluttered past her lips when he whispers softly into her hair, "are you happy, Sansa?"

She doesn't even have to think, the words simply come, "happier than I've ever been, Tywin."

She's long since drifted off to sleep by the time he murmurs a reply. "Thank the gods."