Warnings: Canon-level coarse language (although not much of it).Discussion of murder and violence. Mention of drugs. Sexual situations. Nothing explicit.
A/N: Oh my gods: this universe turned into my own Mereenese knot. This (last!) section for this universe clocks in at ~11,800 words...I'm terrified how long the last two universes are going to end up being...O.O
Twenty-one
Karl and Morgan shake Brienne's hand and wave her to a seat in front of their desks.
"The Jazz Peckledon case has gone cold," Brienne says briskly, "and Jaime Lannister has hired me to look into it."
"Of course it's gone cold: our only person of interest has disappeared," Karl says with a bitter twist to his lips.
"Do you have any idea where he's gone?"
"We think Jaime Lannister knows but isn't talking to protect himself and his friend."
Brienne rolls her eyes. "Jaime has no motive to kill the girl. What? A lost week filled with sex and fueled by alcohol was going to destroy his reputation?"
Morgan smiles a little. "He was angry about Taena, and took it out on Pia. He wouldn't be the first. He won't be the last."
"So, you think he sent Bronn back to kill her? That doesn't fit with your theory."
"There's only a half-hour difference between the estimated time of death and Jaime's arrival at the party. For all we know, the girl was dead in the backseat of that limo."
Brienne sighs. "So, you haven't found the house where they left Jazz?"
"We've canvassed all her friends. Nobody lives in a house; nobody has come forward to say they saw her that night. With Bronn Stokeworth's disappearance, there's no way of corroborating Jaime's story."
"Have you at least found the limo?"
"Abandoned at the International Airport. It was left there an hour after Jaime arrived at the house. Besides Jaime's and Jazz's DNA in the back seat, there's nothing to connect the car to the crime."
Brienne thoughtfully taps her fingers on the table, scowling.
"Why have you come up with your theory of the crime?" she asks. "I thought you were confident Jaime couldn't be involved."
Karl and Morgan exchange a glance then Morgan shrugs in rueful surrender.
"It's gone cold," he says to Karl, "and we have other cases. Maybe she can make some headway."
"She lives with the prime suspect!"
Morgan shakes his head and flips open the file in front of him.
"You're wondering why we haven't completely ruled out Jaime Lannister? Here's why."
He lays out a picture of a dark-eyed, dark-skinned, vibrantly beautiful woman with bleached blonde hair.
"Taena Merryweather," Morgan says.
He pulls out another photo and puts it beside the first, and Brienne's heart stops. She's looking at another dark-eyed, dark-skinned, slightly-less-vibrantly-beautiful woman with bleached blonde hair.
"Pia 'Jazz' Peckledon," she whispers.
*/*/*/*/*
They give her copies of the reports and witness statements along with the autopsy and crime scene photos
Brienne takes it home and she and Nym pore over every page and every detail.
Brienne puts the last page down and sighs.
Nym raises an eyebrow.
"There's no sign of a struggle," Brienne says slowly, a frown line scrunching the centre of her forehead.
"Toxicology shows a blood alcohol level of .13," Nym says. "There are also traces of cocaine and Ecstasy in her system. So she was impaired, yes, but she shouldn't have been to the point of unconsciousness."
Brienne's frown deepens. "She also ate not long before she died: cheeseburger, fries, a soft drink and some kind of chocolate cake, possibly a brownie."
"So, what? Are you suggesting she was drugged through the food?"
Brienne sighs and shakes her head. "I don't know. But I do know there are drugs out there that don't last long in the human body." She frowns and drums her fingers once again on the table top as she stares at the crime scene photos. "I mean…you'd expect there to be some struggle when you're being strangled to death."
*/*/*/*/*
Karl and Morgan reluctantly agree to ask the crime lab to run tests on Jazz's stomach contents, even though they make it clear they think it's likely going to be a waste of time.
"Jaime's a big man," Karl says, "and Jazz only weighed 110 pounds. He could have easily subdued her. Same with Bronn."
Brienne nods. "True. But let's run the tests anyway."
*/*/*/*/*
"What do we do in the meantime?" Nym asks as they drive home and Brienne gives her a smile.
"If you promise not to wreck the place, how would you like a trip to Sunspear?"
*/*/*/*/*
Sin City—Sunspear—is even more over-the-top than Brienne expected. What she doesn't expect is to actually be charmed and entertained by it all. Yes, there's gambling and free booze and legalized prostitution, but it's also bright lights and entertainment and a sly, self-aware amusement at the sheer insanity of building such a place in the middle of a desert in the first place.
Still, she has a job to do, and after a day of taking in the sights, Brienne drags a protesting Nymeria out of the Best Little Whorehouse in Dorne and sets her to work.
"I've tracked down the hotel worker who claims to have heard Jaime arguing with Jazz during their lost week," Brienne says, "but he's not telling me anything else. Maybe you can get more out of him."
Nym just sniffs and stares out the window, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.
"Oh, come on, Nym! You can go have a holiday once we're finished!"
Nym refuses to look at her as she growls, "The Fowler Twins are the most sought after whores in Sunspear. I was just lucky they had a cancellation in their schedule. I won't get another chance with them until sometime next year!"
Brienne sighs. "Then take a holiday next year. This year we're working."
*/*/*/*/*
The hotel worker is young, handsome, and even in a city notorious for its beautiful women, he's easily bedazzled by Nymeria's charisma and self-confidence. Brienne would almost be jealous of her friend if she didn't know it's as useless as being jealous of the sun.
Still, it takes Nymeria more time than expected before he finally tells them that he heard the argument outside the penthouse suite door as he was delivering room service. When he was let into the suite, however, Jaime was already passed out again in the bedroom. He never actually saw the man.
Brienne frowns. "When was the room trashed, do you know?"
"The same day they left," he says promptly. "Mr. Lannister was raving incoherently, like a madman. His driver and his girlfriend had to practically carry him to the car."
Brienne makes a note and says, "Was the driver around the whole time?"
He shakes his head. "He only showed up the day they left." He frowns. "I think he said something about how he'd been looking for them for days."
Brienne frowns. "Weren't Mr. Lannister and Ms Peckledon in the penthouse suite for the entire week?"
"Oh, no. They showed up the night before they left. They were only here one night."
*/*/*/*/*
Brienne scrolls through the scanned case file documents on her tablet, a heavy frown on her face.
"What's bothering you?" Nym asks as she idly flips through the hotel's book of Sunspear's shows and tours and attractions.
"Every witness statement in this file says Jaime and Jazz were in the penthouse suite for a week."
"So?"
"So, we now have one of the witnesses changing his story."
*/*/*/*/*
Brienne calls Tyrion.
"Jaime's lost week," she says. "How did it start?"
Tyrion half-groans and half-laughs. "I wish I could forget it, too," he says. "How did it start...well, it started with Jaime calling me to say he suspected something was wrong with his bank accounts and that Taena was involved."
"How did he figure that out?"
"Despite appearances, Jaime actually pays attention to things. Sometimes. When the mood hits him. By that I mean he'll randomly go and check his accounts, re-read his contracts, look through past royalty payments. Question the details of my bill, the bastard."
Brienne snickers a little and says, "So he had one of those moments?"
"Yeah. And his bank accounts were almost empty, and most of his investments were gone."
"How is that possible?" Brienne says sharply. "At least the investments. Wouldn't that have caused somebody to notice something? And wouldn't those types of activities have gone through you or Addam?"
"The investigation is still underway by the Kingsguard, and it's being headed by Lord Commander Barristan Selmy himself."
"Right," Brienne says after a moment of confusion. "Personal security for the Royal Family plus investigation of organized crime, counterfeiting and financial fraud."
"Exactly."
"Okay," Brienne says, "how this happened is still being investigated. But going back to Jaime's lost week: he called to tell you he'd been robbed. And then what?"
"He told me he suspected Taena. Addam and I went immediately to the Kingsguard and they were able to confirm that piece of it immediately. Unfortunately, Taena was already in the wind. I told Jaime and he decided to go drown his sorrows and promptly dropped out of sight."
"And you couldn't find him for days, right?"
"Right. I mean, we talked on the phone—or rather, I talked and he grunted and mumbled. Gods know what actually sunk in for him. But where he was, physically...gods only know."
"So he wasn't in his penthouse suite for the whole week?"
"No. And I'm not just going on Bronn's word. I called the hotel, too, several times. They told me that suite was empty." Tyrion sighs. "Jaime still managed to trash the place, though."
*/*/*/*/*
"So, were they lying to Tyrion or to the police?" Nymeria says.
"And why lie at all?" Brienne says with a puzzled frown. She gives Nym a thoughtful look. "Do you think you can convince people to talk without necessarily ending up in bed with them? And without them realizing they're being questioned for a reason?"
Nymeria raises an eyebrow. "Well, now, I do love a challenge."
*/*/*/*/*
It takes Nymeria three days but in the end, she has information that she refuses to share with Brienne until they're safely back in King's Landing.
"Okay, now you're freaking me out," Brienne says with a puzzled scowl as Nym leads her into a diner filled with noise and clattering dishes.
"I'm freaking out," Nymeria says, glancing round. She leans closer. "Every one of the witnesses told me a different story than they told the police."
Brienne frowns. "I don't understand. Why would they do that?"
"Jazz told them to tell anyone who asked that she and Jaime were in the penthouse suite the entire time. Cash was involved."
Brienne scowls. "And the fact the girl was murdered didn't make any one of them decide to tell the truth?"
Nymeria spreads her hands and shrugs. "There's some suspicion that Jazz was connected somehow to the Brotherhood without Banners, or mayhaps the Bloody Mummers. Crossing either one of those criminal organizations, especially in Sin City, can get you killed."
"But...why would..." Brienne trails off, frowning.
Nym watches her with a quizzical lift of her eyebrow.
Brienne glances round the diner and leans closer to Nym. "Catelyn Baelish, also known as Lady Stoneheart, hates Jaime's with a passion. And she knows Beric Dondarrion."
*/*/*/*/*
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Jaime says flatly.
Brienne winces. "You said yourself, Lady Stoneheart hates your breathing guts."
"She does, but to think she might have had something to do with my lost week is ridiculous. Why would she bother? Revenge? It's been what? Ten years since Lysa Tully had her breakdown? Catelyn could have taken advantage of so many other missteps of mine...this makes no sense."
"I'm not even sure she's involved," Brienne says with a sigh. "It's just...odd that people in Sunspear think Jazz had connections to the Mob."
"Everyone who lives in Sin City has connections to the Mob," Jaime says drily. "Look," he says with a sigh, "I have no doubt Lady Stoneheart would run me over with a steamroller if she saw me in the street in front of her. But to—what? Hire a girl to take me on a bender? Just at my weakest moment? How would she even know?"
Brienne remains silent and then she hears Jaime's sharp intake of breath.
"Taena?"
"I don't know, Jaime," Brienne says gently. "I'm just exploring possibilities right now."
He heaves a sigh, and even without seeing him, Brienne imagines him pinching the bridge of his nose and a sudden desire to see his handsome face almost makes her double over with longing.
"What do you want to do?" he asks softly.
"I think I need to go to Myr."
"I think I need to go with you."
"Is that really a good idea?" she asks, her stomach dropping.
"I'm hoping that if Taena is surprised by me, she'll be more likely to spill something."
Brienne sighs. "Mayhaps," she says. "We'll go once filming's finished."
"It won't be long. Four more weeks, more or less."
"How's the movie going?"
"Pod is so wet behind the ears I feel like I should be wringing him dry. Then again, I've never acted before, so everyone thinks the same about me. But...yeah. It's been...fun."
"You sound uncertain," she says, a thread of amusement in her voice.
"I am having fun, and working hard, and everyone says I'm doing a good job. I just..."
Brienne waits, wondering if he's missing his music room, or Tyrion and Addam, or just finding acting more of a struggle than he expected.
"I miss you," he says, his voice low and husky.
It takes a moment for his words to sink in and she blushes, then sternly tells herself he doesn't miss her; he means he misses all of them.
"You just miss the home-cooked food," she says, but there's a strain in her voice she hopes he doesn't notice.
"That, too," he says and chuckles. "Tell me what else has been going on. How did you manage to control Nymeria in Sin City long enough to get any work done?"
"I promised she can go back to the Best Little Whorehouse in Dorne the next time the Fowler twins have time in their busy schedule."
Jaime lets out a low whistle. "You're paying Nym too much if she can afford those two ladies!"
Brienne frowns. "And you know that...how?"
"They're fans," he says. His tone is so smug she wishes she could reach through the phone and smack him. "Of course, I was with Taena when they met me backstage, so I didn't take them up on their offers. I'm rather sorry about that now."
Brienne huffs a soft chuckle, and then there's comfortable silence until she finally says, softly, "I should let you go."
"No, no, I'm in no hurry. Talk to me for a while."
Brienne hesitates then almost shyly says, "Okay. What do you want to talk about?"
Jaime's chuckle rumbles across her nerve endings.
"I don't know," he murmurs. "How about...what are you wearing?"
*/*/*/*/*
To Brienne's surprise, Jaime calls her every evening. Sometimes he asks her about what she's discovered about the case, but mostly he asks her about her day, how she likes Senelle, and shares stories about what's been happening on the movie set. More than once she hangs up the phone and is surprised to realize an hour has passed.
Nymeria and Nan start giving her sly, knowing looks that she ignores with as much dignity as she can muster.
As for Senelle, she, true to her word, has augmented Brienne's admittedly sparse wardrobe with several outfits worthy of the glare of the cameras, and Brienne even practices the makeup techniques Senelle taught her under Nym and Nan's watchful eyes. When she follows Senelle's suggestions, even Brienne admits she looks...better. Or at least more presentable than when she only had one frumpy dress to wear.
She rather childishly hopes Jaime likes the changes as much as she does, then is appalled by the fact she wants his approval and tells Nym she almost feels she needs to turn in her membership to the Feminists Club.
Nym only snickers and says, "You may want to put a supply of condoms in your room."
Brienne blushes. "Don't be ridiculous! Jaime would never—"
"Who mentioned Jaime?" Nym says and laughs.
*/*/*/*/*
Jaime's surprised at how he feels when he walks into his house and pauses in the foyer. He looks round and takes a deep breath.
He feels...he feels...
He feels like he's home, and he can't remember having this feeling since he left Casterly Rock to pursue a career in music. He drops his luggage on the floor and wanders to the music room. He smiles as he runs his hands over the piano.
He's lived in hotels since he was seventeen. He's had money, yes, but never anything tangible he could point to and say was his. He always thought he didn't need it.
Who knew it felt like this?
He looks up as a tall, leggy, blonde goddess walks in the door. She's dressed in blue jeans and t-shirt, her hair is sticking up in tufts, her feet are bare, and she has a scowl on her face.
And just like the house, she feels like home.
*/*/*/*/*
"You're home early," Brienne says and Jaime smiles.
"The filming wrapped a little earlier than expected. They're still working on exteriors and other shots, but they're finished with the actors." He pulls a face. "Or else they sent me home early so they can cut me from the movie."
"Cut you? You're the lead!"
He shrugs. "Maybe they'll start from scratch."
She rolls her eyes and strolls closer to the piano. "Well, I'm glad you're back. When do you want to go to Myr?"
Jaime shrugs. "A couple of days. Let me do my laundry at least."
Brienne snorts. "As if you do your own laundry."
"Let my Angel do the laundry, then," he says with a laugh. He pauses and gives her a warm smile. "It's good to see you, Brienne."
She looks down and flushes. "You should have given some warning. I would have surprised you with a new outfit and the makeup tips Senelle taught me."
"You look perfect the way you are," he says then abruptly sits down at the piano so he doesn't forget himself and do something that will likely end with another bruised jaw.
Not to mention a bruised ego.
Brienne, thankfully, just rolls her eyes. "Honestly, Jaime, do you even know how not to flirt?"
He smirks. "Obviously not."
*/*/*/*/*
After supper that evening, Brienne and Nymeria take Jaime into the den to talk about next steps and what he can expect when they get to Myr and find Taena.
"I won't let you be alone with her," she warns him.
He snorts. "Do you really think I'm going to do something to her?"
"No, but I don't want her to be able to say you did. Between me and Nym, we should be able to keep you in our sights at all times."
He widens his eyes in mock horror. "At all times? That bed is going to be pretty crowded."
"Works for me," Nymeria says cheerfully and winks.
Brienne covers her eyes and groans, "Why me?"
"Just lucky, I guess," Nym says. Jaime snickers knowingly then yelps as both Brienne and Nymeria smack his shoulders.
"Get your mind out of the gutter," Nym scolds.
"That's rich, coming from you!"
"Can we focus?" Brienne says with a sigh.
Jaime sighs in turn. "I'm sorry, Brienne. I'm just trying to distract myself from the fact that my lost week was anything more than just a well-deserved bender after finding out the love of my life had screwed me over and stolen almost everything I owned."
"It's just a theory," Brienne reminds him, "although it's supported by the fact your memory ends so early in the weekend. Quite frankly, you're notorious for your hard-partying ways so the fact you can't remember anything much after meeting Jazz in the casino is suspicious."
"You think I was drugged?"
"More than usual, yes."
Jaime whistles. "Well, that would explain a lot of things," he says and his shoulders slump. He glances from Brienne to Nymeria and back again. "Contrary to my reputation, I don't do drugs of any kind. I tend to have bad reactions to them. Ask my doctor; he can't even prescribe pain medication without having a medical team standing by. Alcohol, on the other hand, goes down well, and even if I was on a bender, it should take more than a couple of drinks to make me black out."
"So, if you'd been drugged, there would most likely have been a medical emergency of some kind?" Brienne pounces. "A maester or a nurse or somebody would be called to check on you?"
Jaime shrugs. "Or they just sat around and waited to see if I would live or die. Maybe I was supposed to die, if Taena planned this. Who knows?"
"She already had all your cash," Nymeria says.
"She was the major beneficiary of my will when we were together. Addam, Tyrion and Bronn all received a portion, as did a few charities, but the vast majority of it would have been Taena's. That was, of course, the first thing I changed after I sobered up." Jaime shrugs at their incredulous stares. "I thought she loved me and not my money. And now I find out she possibly tried to kill me."
Brienne shakes her head, frowning. "That makes no sense. If she was trying to kill you to inherit, then there was no need for her to steal your money in the first place. She would have just killed you."
Jaime blinks, struck. "You're right," he says. "But if that's the case...then whoever hired Jazz either didn't think to tell her about my reaction to drugs, or..."
"Or they didn't know about it."
*/*/*/*/*
The air in Myr is warm and sultry. The hotel they check into is elegant and classy, and Brienne raises an eyebrow at the size of the penthouse suite.
"We should have stayed in separate rooms," she says mildly.
Jaime snorts a little. "It doesn't matter. The tabloids are going to claim we're all fucking anyway so we may as well enjoy the comforts of the suite."
Brienne scowls but she can't really argue the point, mainly because it's true.
*/*/*/*/*
The next morning they drive to the lovely, secluded villa close to the beach which Brienne's sources have told her now belongs to Taena Merryweather.
Bought with Jaime's stolen money, but still.
"Do you think she'll let us in?" Nymeria asks with bright interest as they walk to the door.
Jaime says, "I don't care if she lets us in so long as she talks to us."
Brienne frowns. "What?"
Jaime shrugs. "She can talk to us outside if she wants."
Nym snickers. "Whatever works."
*/*/*/*/*
They're shown in by a sour-faced middle-aged maid who rakes Jaime with her eyes then sniffs and hurries away to find her employer. Jaime's too tense to pay much attention. He doesn't know whether Taena will actually talk to them or whether she's going to call the police and have them thrown out. He has no idea how he's going to react to seeing his ex-lover for the first time since she stole almost everything he had out from under him. He honestly doesn't know which will be worse: seeing her...or not seeing her.
He glances at Brienne and sees the muscles clenching in her jaw and realizes she's just as tense as he is. Her eyes meet his and she gives him an encouraging smile and for a moment he takes comfort in the now-familiar but still astonishing depths of her eyes.
"Gods, you two need to get a room already," Nym mutters on the other side of him, low enough so that only he can hear her.
I know, he thinks just as a door opens and Taena—gloriously beautiful, beautifully treacherous Taena—calls his name and flies, sobbing, into his arms.
He staggers back, his arms automatically going round her to steady himself.
"Oh, thank the gods you're here!" she cries against his shoulder then lifts her head and kisses him.
*/*/*/*/*
Jaime seriously wonders if he's fallen into an alternate universe. Taena is clinging to him as if he'd exiled her to this luxurious mansion on the coast of Myr for some imagined slight and he's now arrived to accept her back into his waiting arms. Her tears quickly dry and she dismisses Brienne with a flick of her eyes but peers suspiciously at Nymeria.
Taena says, "Let's go somewhere and talk, Jaime. Your...friends can wait by the pool and I'll have Mrs. Westerling serve them some refreshments."
Jaime sees Brienne's scowl and bites back an urge to laugh, even as he tries to wrap his head round what game Taena is playing.
"Where I go, they go," Jaime says, setting Taena firmly away from him. "There's nothing we can talk about that they can't hear."
A flash of confused irritation crosses Taena's face as she pouts.
"You've never said no to me before," she says.
"You've never stolen all my money before," he says drily.
Taena's eyes widen and fill with tears. "Is that why you're here? Just because of the money?"
She suddenly flings herself against his chest and almost desperately clutches at him. "I'm so sorry, Jaime! I never should have done what I did! I didn't realize how much I truly loved you until I'd thrown it all away!" She tilts her head back, her eyes pleading. "Please—tell me it's not too late. Tell me you can somehow forgive me and we can start over." She begins to weep. "Please tell me you still love me!"
Jaime's now positive he's in an alternate universe. Or rather, he hopes he is, because Taena's making him realize just how stupid he must have been while they'd been together if she truly believes he would take her back after what she's done.
Yet...
His expression softens as he stares deep into her dark eyes, then he gently pulls the weeping woman closer, enclosing her in warm, comforting hug. He avoids looking at Brienne even as he rubs a soothing hand up and down Taena's back and rests his cheek on the top of Taena's head.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he murmurs against her hair and ignores the sound of what he's positive is Brienne's teeth grinding together. "What happened?" He drops a light kiss on the top of Taena's head. "You can tell me. You know I'll forgive you anything. I love you so much."
And now, it seems, Taena's shoulders shake with real sobs.
Jaime continues making soothing noises until finally Taena says, "He—he—he—the money's gone, Jaime!" Taena's voice is thick with tears. "That fucking bastard stole it right out from under me!"
He blinks and finally dares to meet Brienne's and Nymeria's eyes. He's both pleased and guilty that Brienne's eyes are shooting blue flames at him while at the same time he can see the confusion on her face.
"Who's 'he'?" Jaime asks, his hand still rubbing soothing circles on Taena's back.
That makes her sob even harder and Jaime can't help but roll his eyes. Brienne catches it and her own eyes widen and her mouth sags open. He winks then turns back to soothing his erstwhile ex-lover.
Finally, Taena's tears slow and Jaime says again, "Who's 'he'?"
Taena hesitates, leaning back to search his face. "Will you really forgive me everything? You'll take me back?"
He smiles down at her. "Of course I will, baby." He carefully wipes the tears from her cheeks. "Who's 'he'?"
Taena sniffs and looks at him with melting, soulful eyes. "Bronn."
Jaime's jaw drops. "Bronn?"
She nods frantically. "He showed up about a week or so after I did. Said he wanted to follow the money, especially since you couldn't pay him anymore." She briefly looks guilty. "Sorry, darling!"
Jaime shrugs. "That doesn't matter right now. Bronn came here?"
"Yes! And...I can't explain it except to say I was missing you so much and he was a reminder of better times and...well..."
"You became lovers," Jaime says. "And?"
"And then...yesterday…I went shopping and my credits cards wouldn't work and I couldn't get money out of the bank. I came home and found a note from Bronn."
Jaime's sure his face is frozen with stunned disbelief. "And what did the note say?"
"That it had been fun but he's gone to Slaver's Bay, and when I checked my bank accounts, everything was gone! I've been panicking all night!" She gives him a slow smile. "You walking in today—it's a sign from the gods that we were meant to be together."
Jaime dazedly shakes his head, then says, "Oh, it's a sign from the gods all right." He puts his hands on her shoulders and gives her a besotted smile. "Now, everything's going to be all right, baby." He glances at Brienne and Nymeria, both watching with varying degrees of disbelief and disgust on their faces, then he turns back to Taena. "Listen, though, my friends here need to know about Jazz."
Taena looks honestly confused. "Jazz? The music?"
"You may have known her as Pia," Brienne says briskly. "Pia Peckledon."
Taena's eyes widen then she quickly shakes her head. "Never heard of her."
Jaime raises an eyebrow and he looks deep into Taena's eyes.
"No?" he says softly.
"No."
He slowly smirks. "You knew her—or you knew of her. I can see it in your face."
Taena flushes, and she frowns. "You sound like you're accusing me of something."
"We're just trying to get information," Brienne says briskly. "We have reason to believe that you knew Pia 'Jazz' Peckledon and that you hired her to, erm, distract Jaime while you made good your escape to a place that has no extradition treaty with Westeros."
Taena rakes Brienne with her eyes, a sneer twisting her lips. "Who is this creature, Jaime?"
"She's a private investigator I've hired to solve Jazz' murder."
Taena gasps. "Murder?"
Nymeria raises an eyebrow. "I find it hard to believe you don't know that Jaime was a suspect in a murder investigation. What? You came here and never once searched the web to see what Jaime's been doing?"
Taena's eyes narrow. "No, I didn't," she snaps. "I was too busy trying to find a place to live!"
"Right," Brienne says drily. "Tell us about Jazz."
"I told you: I don't know anything about her!"
Brienne sighs. "The police are in the process of subpoenaing Jazz' bank and phone records. It'll be better for you if you tell us what your connection is to the poor girl now rather than after they find something that connects her to you."
Taena turns her glare on Brienne then gives Jaime a pleading look.
He gives her a reassuring smile. "Remember: I'll forgive you anything, Taena. Remember how much I love you."
There's a flash of triumph on Taena's face and then she says, "Cat thought it would be a good idea if we kept you distracted for a few days when I was ready to leave for Myr."
Jaime frowns. "Cat?"
"Catelyn Baelish. She's the one who put me in touch with Jazz."
Jaime and Brienne silently stare at each other in shock.
"How did Cat know Jazz?" Nymeria asks.
Taena shrugs. "Jazz was a Baelish Bunny."
"When did you meet Catelyn?" Jaime says slowly.
Taena shrugs carelessly. "I've known her for a while now. You were always gone, and I'd run into her at the clubs and restaurants round town."
"Of course," he says faintly. "And she knew what you were planning? Taking the money, I mean."
Taena nods, then sidles closer to him. "She helped me do it, especially when it came to transferring the investments." She slides her hands up his chest and over his shoulders. "I'm sorry, darling. I was lonely, and convinced you were fucking around on me while you were roaming round the country doing your concerts."
Jaime puts his hands over Taena's then looks at Brienne and Nymeria. "Any other questions?" he asks.
Brienne says to Taena, "What did you give Catelyn for helping you?"
Taena frowns. "Nothing. She likes me. She thought I was in a bad situation and she just wanted to help me escape it." She turns back to Jaime. "But I see now she was mistaken." She lifts on her tiptoes to press a lingering kiss against Jaime's lips then looks up at him with a smile. "When do you want to go back to Westeros?"
"Tomorrow."
Taena laughs. "Oh, darling, you should know better! I'll need more time than that to get packed!"
Jaime gently lifts Taena's hands away from his body and steps away from her.
"No need to pack, Taena. You won't be coming with us," he says. "Ever."
Her eyes widen and her jaw drops. "What? You just said you'd forgiven me! You just said you loved me! You just said you'd take me back!"
Jaime shrugs. "I lied." He looks at Brienne and grins. "Looks like those acting lessons paid off after all."
*/*/*/*/*
They return to the hotel in thoughtful silence but, to Jaime's amusement and hope, Brienne is shooting death-glares at him all the way back to the hotel. Back in the penthouse suite, they briefly discuss what they've learned then Brienne goes to her bedroom to phone Morgan and Karl and get them working on the latest leads.
Once they're alone, Nymeria looks at Jaime and says, "How about we go to the bar for a few drinks?"
Jaime raises an eyebrow as he takes in the warning gleam in Nym's eyes.
"Sure," he says, and wonders what shit he's in for now.
*/*/*/*/*
They're on their third shot of Myrish Fire, a liquor that tastes like heaven and kicks like an auroch, when Jaime says, "How did you and Brienne meet?"
Nym snickers. "It took you longer than I thought to mention Brienne."
Jaime smirks and shrugs. "She's been a pretty major part of my life these last few months...and I have the bruises to prove it!"
Nym chuckles. "She's very persuasive when she wants to be," she says fondly. She turns to look at him. "You did a good job with Taena today. You played her like a fiddle."
Jaime shrugs. "It's only fair. She played me like a fiddle the entire time we were together, I think." He shakes his head. "It's hard to know what's real and what's not after a while."
Nym nods, then leans close, her dark eyes intent on his. "Brienne is a hundred percent the real deal, my friend, and I will protect her at all costs."
He raises an eyebrow. "By having orgies in my house?"
"Hey, she wasn't there, I was on a case, and the party got out of hand. We got the pictures the client needed and that's what mattered. Not to mention we saved your ass from being arrested for murder."
"I remember."
"Good. I want you to remember this, too: if you do anything—anything at all—to deliberately hurt Brienne, I will fuck you up so hard you won't know which way is up for six months." She smiles sweetly. "Deal?"
Jaime blinks owlishly then shrugs. "Deal."
*/*/*/*/*
"Should we go to Slaver's Bay?" Brienne asks at breakfast the next morning.
Her two companions stare at her with blood-shot eyes and Jaime says, "I'm planning on staying here and praying for death. I don't care what you two decide."
Nymeria simply lowers her head to the table and quietly groans.
"Well, we still need to talk to Bronn," Brienne says briskly. "Maybe I should go by myself."
"Considering we don't know if Bronn is even still in the vicinity of Slaver's Bay that would be kind of time consuming," Jaime says, and she wonders if he's speaking so carefully because he's being cautious or because he's trying to think through his massive hangover.
Brienne scowls. "Well, we still have to rule him out as a suspect and don't you want to get your money back?"
"I want to rule him out as a suspect, but I also want to get back to King's Landing and talk to Lady Stoneheart. Taena's probably already told her we were here. I still don't think she murdered Jazz, but just like with Bronn, we need to rule it out."
*/*/*/*/*
In the end, they all return to Westeros and set Morgan and Karl to discovering Bronn's whereabouts—or at least what name he's travelling under. In turn, the two detectives give Brienne copies of Jazz's bank and phone records.
"Why didn't you tell us Jazz was a Baelish Bunny?" Brienne asks. "There isn't even a mention of it in the notes you gave me. And how did it stay out of the media?"
Karl shrugs. "Her family asked us to be as discreet as possible. Besides, given the facts of the case as we knew it, it wasn't relevant."
"In other words, you were suffering from tunnel vision."
Karl's smile is thin. "We were going where the evidence led us. There was no reason to believe her job as a Baelish Bunny had any connection to her death."
Morgan says, "And as for how it stayed out of the media, well..." He shrugs. "They were more focused on the fact The Jaime Lannister was a person of interest in a murder investigation than they were on the victim. I mean, the story quickly disappeared from the public once Jaime was publicly ruled out as a suspect."
*/*/*/*/*
That night, Jaime's face is grim when Brienne tells him and the others what the two Gold Cloaks told her.
"It isn't fair," Jaime mutters.
"I know," Brienne says.
Jaime frowns, drumming his fingers on the arm of the couch.
"Maybe you need to go public," Addam says.
"Go public?" Brienne asks with a frown. "About what?"
Jaime says, quickly, "The fact I've hired you to investigate the crime. I don't think that's a good idea." He gives them a thin smile. "Besides, we don't have time to talk about it now. We need to go now and speak to a certain lady."
*/*/*/*/*
Every table at Lady Stoneheart's is full, and Jaime sees Beric Dondarrion is sitting at the same table he'd used the last time Jaime and Brienne were here. And in the middle of the room, in pride of place and with a clear view of all the tables is Lady Stoneheart and Petyr Baelish.
The hostess steps in front of them with a professional smile. "I'm sorry, we don't allow anyone in without a reservation."
Jaime's smile is just as professional. "Oh, we won't be staying long," he says and gently pushes past the young woman and leads Brienne to the centre table.
Catelyn Baelish's blue eyes are like shards of ice as they come to a stop beside them.
Petyr says, "This is a surprise, Lannister."
Jaime raises an eyebrow. "Mayhaps to you." He turns to Catelyn. "I'm assuming Taena called to warn you we'd be coming to talk to you."
"Taena's a lovely girl," Catelyn says. "You didn't deserve her."
"So because I didn't deserve her, you actively poisoned her mind against me?"
"It didn't take much. Taena was already suspicious."
"And Jazz?"
Catelyn frowns. "Jazz?"
"Jazz Peckledon." Brienne says, her eyes boring into Petyr Baelish. "One of your Bunnies."
Petyr shrugs. "There are hundreds of Baelish Bunnies. You honestly think I can remember every one? Besides, they all look alike after a while."
Brienne rolls her eyes. "Of course," she says drily. "Yet you didn't recognize the name after the girl was murdered?"
"Of course I did. I told the police immediately she was one of my Bunnies. I'm just not certain why it's relevant."
Jaime hasn't taken his eyes off Lady Stoneheart. "It's relevant because you, Catelyn, hired the girl to meet me in Sunspear and to keep me 'distracted' while Taena made her getaway with all my cash."
Catelyn snorts. "Don't be ridiculous. Why would I do that?"
"Because you blame me for something that has never been my fault. I did not cause Lysa's breakdown."
"You're a lying bastard," she hisses. "She loved you!"
"She barely knew me! We fucked for two weeks and that was the end of it! This obsessive need you have to blame somebody else for the tragedy is on you, and only you! Only this time, an innocent girl paid the ultimate price! You killed her, didn't you?"
"You're mad!"
Petyr surges to his feet. "That's absurd!"
Beric Dondarrion and Edric Dayne hurry over, and Jaime's acutely aware that everyone in the restaurant is now avidly watching them.
Brienne puts a calming hand on his forearm. "You can't go around lobbing accusations, Jaime. There's no evidence that Lady Stoneheart even met Pia Peckledon."
Jaime glares. "Whose side are you on?"
"Jazz's," Brienne says promptly, and Jaime deflates.
"You're right," he says and turns back to the four people glaring at him. He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
Lady Stoneheart's expression turns triumphant. "Taena's right; you really don't have any balls."
Jaime raises an eyebrow. "Because I know enough not to accuse somebody of a crime without evidence? I only wish you were smart enough to do the same."
"Enough," Brienne snaps. "Let me do the talking." She turns back to their audience and says, "Please. May I sit?" She glances round the restaurant. "I think we've created enough of a spectacle, don't you?"
Lady Stoneheart looks thoughtfully at her then says, "You can sit. He can leave."
Jaime glares but before he can speak, Brienne says, "That's fine." She turns to him. "Go wait in the car. Please."
"Brienne—"
"I can handle this. Just go!"
He grumbles then raises his hands in surrender as Edric Dayne takes a threatening step towards him.
"Fine. I'm going. But you have half an hour, then I'm coming back in for you."
Brienne rolls her eyes. "Go."
*/*/*/*/*
Brienne takes a seat at Lady Stoneheart's table while everyone is distracted with watching Jaime stomping from the restaurant, Beric Dondarrion and Edric Dayne trailing behind him. She pulls herself closer to the table then rubs her palms against her pant legs and turns to watch Jaime's exit from the restaurant. Her fear finally eases when she sees neither Beric nor Edric actually leaves the restaurant.
She turns back to her reluctant hosts and gives them an apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry. He's a bit...upset."
Lady Stoneheart rolls her eyes. "Am I supposed to feel sorry for him?"
"No. But I hope you feel sorry for Jazz Peckledon." Beric and Edric join them and Brienne pulls her hands out from under the table and folds them in front of her as she leans closer to Lady Stoneheart. "We know you helped Taena Merryweather steal Jaime's money," she says.
"If you say so."
"I don't say so; Taena says so. Oh, I have no doubt it was Taena's idea and you just jumped on the opportunity to stick it to Jaime. None of us care about that anymore. However, Taena also asked you to help arrange for a way to distract Jaime while she made good her escape."
"So?"
"So—you're the one who suggested Jazz. In fact, you're the one who connected the two together. Phone records prove it."
Lady Stoneheart's eyes narrow. "Again: so?"
"So the girl ended up murdered after Jaime returned her to King's Landing."
"That's unfortunate, but I have no idea what that has to do with me."
"The fact you never came forward to the police to tell them about your part in Jazz's meeting with Jaime is suspicious in itself. There's also the fact that Jazz most likely drugged Jaime to ensure he'd be out of the picture for a while. Since there was no way of knowing when or if Jaime would discover Taena's activities, that means Jazz was sent to Sunspear with the instructions to drug him and hide him away somewhere. That's kidnapping. Unfortunately, Jaime's also severely allergic to narcotics. And if the person who gave Jazz her marching orders knew about Jaime's allergy, then that's attempted murder."
Lady Stoneheart's eyes are cold and unwavering. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Just for my own amusement," Petyr says, "what's your theory? Why are you even here?"
Brienne glances at him, then at the other two cold-faced men before returning her attention to Lady Stoneheart. She tilts her head to one side as she wonders if there's any human emotion at all behind the woman's icy facade.
Brienne says, "I think you've been looking for an opportunity to destroy Jaime Lannister for the last ten years. You blame him for your sister's tragic life. Then Taena wandered into your orbit. She was obviously unhappy and easily manipulated and you jumped at the chance to get your revenge. You convinced Taena Jaime was about to leave her, leaving her broke, and you helped her steal Jaime's money and hide it in a bank in Myr. Then you suggested using Jazz to get Jaime out of the way while Taena fled to Myr. Only you also sent Jazz to Sunspear with some kind of drug and I suspect you knew about Jaime's allergy. I think you intended for Jazz to not just kidnap him, but also to kill him. When Jaime dropped her off that night, Jazz called you to pick her up; the phone records should prove that. You took her home and strangled her, maybe because she failed in her mission, or maybe because you realized she knew too much and could implicate you in the whole thing, especially if Jaime ever began to remember what actually happened."
There's dark silence as she finishes speaking. She stares calmly at Lady Stoneheart, and then the woman begins to laugh. She's joined by the three men at the table.
"You're a fool," Lady Stoneheart says. "I've done as you asked and listened to you. Now get out."
Brienne ducks her head and awkwardly pushes away from the table. She turns away and Lady Stoneheart calls her name.
Brienne turns back and gives her a questioning look.
"I hope you realize I'm going to destroy your career, thanks to these ridiculous accusations." Lady Stoneheart's smile is cruel. "I hope you'll think this was worth it when I leave you living in the gutter."
*/*/*/*/*
Brienne closes the limo door with a sigh of relief and, with a grateful smile, takes the glass of wine Jaime hands her.
"Morgan called," Jaime says. "The bug is working perfectly. They can hear everything."
Brienne lifts her glass and clinks it against Jaime's in a toast. "Here's hoping they have loose lips."
*/*/*/*/*
They do.
Two days later, they watch as on television Lady Stoneheart is led away in handcuffs through a gauntlet of flashing cameras and shouted questions.
"Do you really think she strangled the girl herself?" Tyrion asks.
Brienne grimaces. "It wouldn't surprise me at all. It would have been the work of a moment to drug Jazz's food and then strangle her once she was incapacitated."
Nymeria shakes her head. "That's just...cold."
"I looked in that woman's eyes," Brienne says quietly. "I think she's dead inside."
*/*/*/*/*
They're caught in another media hurricane after Lady Stoneheart's arrest although Jaime insists on doing their best to live as normally as possible.
He reluctantly helps her with her cases when she bribes him well enough, and one night as they're all eating dinner, he invites her to attend a red carpet movie premiere.
"Why me?" she says with a frown.
"Because while I'm fond of the leading lady in this movie, I think it's going to be a dead bore. I know I can count on you to elbow me awake if I start to snore."
"You can't depend on Tyrion to do that?"
"Oh, sure, but before he wakes me, he'll take video and post it to the web."
"Yeah, I would," Tyrion says, nodding. He leans back in his chair and rubs his stomach. "I don't know if it's your and Nan's cooking, or if it's because Jaime's been relatively well-behaved, but I haven't had to take any antacid for days."
Jaime gives his brother a wickedly teasing smile. "Is this a good time to tell you and Addam that Nymeria and I caused a bar fight in Myr? Just got the bill for the damages today."
"Oh, gods," Tyrion sighs and lowers his head to the table.
*/*/*/*/*
Brienne nervously readies herself for the movie premiere. It's the first time she's unveiling the new look that Senelle has created for her. She goes to Nymeria's room and says, "What do you think?"
Nymeria whistles, low and long. "I'm kinda sorry I love you like a sister, Brienne. You look gorgeous! And eminently fuckable."
Brienne blushes even as she rolls her eyes in fond exasperation. She takes another look at the image in the mirror: the pale peach-coloured dress that clings and reveals curves created by a magical new bra. The skirt is slit to mid-thigh and exposes her right leg with every step, and she's towering in a pair of three-inch, delicate heels.
She nervously chews her bottom lip. "Well, I can always wear flats if Jaime doesn't like being so much shorter," she mutters.
Nymeria snickers a little. "Let's go see what he says."
*/*/*/*/*
Jaime's standing at the bar in the drawing room, tall and handsome in a black tuxedo. He turns to watch her walk in and she's rewarded with his widening eyes that grow so heated they almost seem to scorch her flesh as he takes in her transformation.
He slowly smiles. "I told you you had good lines."
*/*/*/*/*
As the media frenzy quickly moves on to the next big scandal, Jaime decides the time is right to gently—or not so gently—push the boundaries of his relationship with Brienne. While they've been out regularly in the weeks since Lady Stoneheart's arrest, except for the movie premiere, they've only been out because of a case.
Jaime's pleased Brienne is getting more comfortable using the skills Senelle taught her and she looks gorgeous when she does, but he does prefer her like this, he thinks as he hands her a coffee and settles on the couch across from hers. She's in sloppy jeans and a t-shirt with her bare feet tucked up beneath her. She looks fresh-faced, her wide eyes more beautiful than ever, and she looks far too honest to be working as a private investigator.
"I'm working on my first new album and tour in five years," he says, continuing the conversation they started at dinner. "I don't know if I'm excited or terrified."
"Why terrified?"
"After a while, nobody wants to hear anything new. They just want the memories."
"And if it fails?" she asks.
He shrugs. "It fails. And if the muses allow it, I'll try again." He gives her a half-smile. "I hear the movie is coming together really well."
"That's great! When is it going to be released?"
"In about two months."
Her jaw drops. "That soon?"
"Well, it's not a big budget movie. I think the soundtrack is just Pod, humming. Anyway, he called to say he's managed to arrange for a limited release in the theatres—about a hundred screens or so—and then it'll go straight to video. One of the screens is here, if you'd like to go."
Brienne grins. "Of course I'd like to go!"
"Good. I don't think I'll be able to watch myself on screen without some moral support. And booze."
She rolls her eyes and chuckles.
Now or never, Jaime decides and leans forward, his famous smirk firmly in place.
"Listen, Brienne…how about we go out to dinner tomorrow night?" he says. "There's that new restaurant that just opened up in Old King's Landing. Northern cuisine."
She gives him a puzzled look. "Dinner?" She frowns. "We don't have a case."
"I'm asking you out to dinner," he says slowly, as if speaking to a particularly stubborn child. "This has nothing to do with a case."
Her eyes narrow. "If there's no case, why do you want to go for dinner?"
His smirk widens into a grin. "It's a date, Brienne! I'm asking you on a date! You know—dinner. Dancing. Making out in the back seat of the limo on the way home—"
She flushes and surges to her feet. "Stop mocking me," she snaps. "I thought we were friends!" She turns and stomps from the room.
Jaime winces as the door slams on Brienne's broad back then he leans back on the couch with a sigh.
This is going to be more difficult than he thought.
*/*/*/*/*
He calls in a favor and a few days later, Brienne is in the back seat of his limo in a little black dress that leaves her mile-long legs exposed to mid-thigh. It both amuses and arouses him to watch her tug futilely at the skirt.
"This dress, Jaime?" she grumbles. "Seriously? How am I supposed to get out of the limo without flashing the entire world?"
He perks up. "Did you go commando, Brienne?" he asks hopefully.
She flushes and glares. "Of course not, you idiot!" she snarls and he gives her a pout that earns him a smack on his shoulder. "Idiot," she growls but there's a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"I can ask Lewys to stop in a discreet location," he says, "and I will gladly watch you practice exiting the limo and let you know if you're flashing anyone."
"Please don't make me punch you," she sighs. "We need your handsome face to be recognizable when we get to the restaurant."
He grins and leans close. "You think I'm handsome?" he purrs in her ear.
Her flush deepens and then she looks at him, those gorgeous blue eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion.
"What is wrong with you?" she growls. "We're on a stakeout, remember?"
"I remember," he says, "but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy ourselves, right?"
Her eyes narrow even more. "So long as we don't forget we're working, Jaime."
He lets his eyes travel from her face down her long, toned torso to her even longer, even more toned legs then back to her face.
"I won't forget," he says and smirks at her red face and thinks he can hear her teeth grinding. Lewys brings the car to a gentle stop. "We're here," he says, and just as he planned, the car is surrounded by a horde of varysazzi, snapping pictures as if their lives depend on it. Who knows, he thinks as he slides from the car then positions himself so Brienne can exit with a modicum of modesty, maybe their lives do depend on it.
*/*/*/*/*
Over the next several weeks, Jaime uses every imaginative bone in his body to convince Brienne to go out with him when they're not working on a case together. Coupled with intimate evenings at home when he can manage to get her alone without Nym or Nan or Tyrion or Addam around, he thinks he may finally be making progress.
Brienne's glares aren't quite as suspicious when he invites her out and there's no case. Of course, he continues to be her partner when she does have a case and she needs someone to help her get into a location or to watch her back, and if the bribe she offers is sufficiently chocolaty enough.
Then a few days before the release of his movie, he invites Brienne out to dinner and asks her to wear his favourite little black dress that shows off her endless legs.
She frowns. "What's the occasion?" she asks.
"Besides the fact we have the house to ourselves for a few days?"
And they do: Nan has gone North to visit family while Nymeria has gone to Braavos to follow a new lead on Bronn's whereabouts. Jaime half-wonders if Nym will come back or if she'll do to Bronn what Bronn did to Taena. The thought amuses him probably more than it should.
"Yes," Brienne says, bringing him back to the present, "besides the fact we have the house to ourselves."
"It's a celebration," he says. "We finished the last track of my new album today."
Brienne's face lights up with a grin. "That's wonderful!"
"Plus the movie comes out the day after tomorrow. This may be the last time I'll be able to show my face in public."
*/*/*/*/*
Brienne wonders why she keeps torturing herself like this. She's an idiot, she thinks as they leisurely finish their after-dinner coffees and finally decide it's time to head home. Jaime's hands are warm as he smooths her shawl over her shoulders and she tries not shiver at his touch.
She's a bloody idiot. Ever since he teased her—cruelly teased her—about going on a date, she's been dying a slow death from a thousand cuts. It doesn't help that Jaime's a compulsive flirt but sometimes...sometimes she wonders if there's something more behind his teasing.
More and more often, she's begun to wonder what Jaime would do if she were to take one of his teasing comments seriously. Most of the time she knows he would simply run as quickly as he could from her life but sometimes...sometimes...sometimes what she imagines makes her body burn and ache with yearning. She thrums a little with desire just thinking about it.
She quickly shakes her thoughts away as they get into the limo. Jaime tells Lewys to take them home then raises the privacy shield between them and their driver.
Jaime turns to consider her and raises an eyebrow as he looks at her. She wonders if he can read her thoughts on her face and she blushes.
"The meal was delicious," she blurts out. "Thank you."
"Glad you enjoyed it," he says cheerfully and she catches her breath as he shifts a little closer to her. She feels like her self-control tonight is hanging on by a thin thread that's growing ever thinner. The fact there's no one else at the house hasn't been helping the last few days, and Jaime seems to revel in strolling round the house in snug jeans and t-shirts that cling to his well-defined chest and gods—
"I told you this was a night out to celebrate the completion of my new album, which is going to be released under my own label," Jaime says, startling her out of her thoughts.
She frowns. "Yes?"
"Well…I haven't told you everything."
Brienne feels a sudden stab of anxiety and her eyes widen.
"Oh?"
"The album is titled Pretty Pia, and a hundred percent of the profits are going to the Jeyne Poole Foundation, in the name of Pia 'Jazz' Peckledon. The Foundation is an activist organization whose mission is to advocate for justice for those victims of crime who get lost or overlooked by the justice system and the media. Justice for all, right? Isn't that what we're supposed to be striving for? Hopefully the album will sell enough to keep them operating for a few more years."
He gives her a grin after he finishes speaking, and but beneath his smug exterior Brienne sees a rather anxious look in his eyes and she realizes he's hoping for her approval. There's something ridiculously attractive and oddly sweet about it all, and the fact he wants her approval causes something to snap inside her and she suddenly doesn't care if she's going to make an idiot of herself—
—she launches herself at him.
He's not expecting it and he falls back beneath her weight, banging his head against the limo's door. The sudden movement makes them tumble from the seat into a heap on the floor.
"Oh, gods," she says as she sprawls awkwardly on top of him. "Oh gods," she says again as he winces and puts a hand to the back of his head.
"Oh, gods," she says for a third time and if she wasn't dying from embarrassment, she'd literally burst into tears because godsdamnit, she didn't even manage to get a single good kiss out of the deal.
She starts to scramble away, to get back to her seat, thinking wildly she'll tell him the car swerved and she just...fell..onto his lips...and gods, she hopes she can find a hole she can crawl into and never come out—
—and his arms are wrapped round her and one of his hands seems to be firmly gripping her ass, holding her still against him.
"Were you trying to kiss me?" he says and she blushes so fiercely she knows her face must be glowing in the dim interior of the limo as they glide past the streetlights. She bites her lip and she looks away as she gives a quick nod.
His hand tightens on her ass as his other hand goes to the nape of her neck to pull her down to him, and then he's kissing her and this time, there's no mistaking it.
*/*/*/*/*
Her pantyhose is in tatters, her undies tossed aside, and his fingers are doing...things...wonderful, marvelous things…to the sensitive flesh between her legs that have her seeing sparks behind her closed eyelids when Jaime suddenly stops, lifts his mouth from her neck and looks round, blinking puzzled eyes.
She frowns as she bucks her hips against his hand, trying to coax him to return to doing what he was doing.
"I think the car's stopped," Jaime says, although he rewards her with a slick slide of his thumb against the sensitive bud hidden between her legs.
Her eyes slam shut at the sensation, a low moan drawn from her throat as she bucks against him again—and then she understands his words.
Her eyes fly open. "Stopped?"
He nods and he's looking at her with a smugly pained smirk.
He slides his thumb against her again and says, "Here? Or in the house?"
It takes a moment to understand what he's asking. She's tempted to tell him here, in the limo, but the fact there's somebody on the other side of the partition who most likely knows exactly what they're doing back here is what decides her.
"The house," she rasps out then whines—literally whines—as Jaime slowly, reluctantly removes his hands from her body.
"Gods," he groans, "hold that thought."
*/*/*/*/*
They scramble to find the pieces of clothing they'd torn off each other and Brienne only then realizes Jaime's shirt no longer has any buttons. Her pantyhose and undies are ruined beyond repair, and she wraps what remnants she can find into her shawl. Jaime pulls on his jacket, she shoves her feet back into her pumps, and he gives her a dark-eyed, burning look.
"You better have the keys ready," he growls, "otherwise I'm going to end up fucking you on the front step."
For a moment, Brienne seriously considers the idea then digs for her keys.
"Maybe next time," she says and bolts from the car.
*/*/*/*/*
They leave a trail of clothes—or pieces of them—from the front door up the stairs to Brienne's bedroom, where they fall, naked, on to her bed.
There's a momentary pause when they have the horrified realization that they left any condoms they might have been carrying somewhere on the path to the bedroom.
Brienne stares up at him, panting, and seriously wondering if she'll survive the time it would take them to find Jaime's pants.
"Nym probably has some," she says.
"Do you want to risk searching her bedside drawers?"
They share another horrified stare then Jaime says, "I should hopefully have some in my bedroom."
"That's so far away!"
"Six doors," he says. "Can you make it?"
"Gods, I hope so," she says.
*/*/*/*/*
They survive the journey to Jaime's bedroom—but it's a close call.
He finds a box of condoms with a triumphant shout and Brienne says, "Thank the gods," and tackles him to the bed.
*/*/*/*/*
Later, her body boneless and sated, Brienne watches Jaime sleep and thinks she's never orgasmed so easily before—or so strongly—and she's never going to have sex that good ever again.
One night stands are just that, she thinks wistfully, then pushes the sadness away.
No regrets, she firmly tells herself as she closes her eyes and drifts towards sleep. No regrets and no expectations.
*/*/*/*/*
Jaime takes one look at her face the next morning as he walks into the drawing room and raises an eyebrow. "Coffee ready?" he says.
She nods, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, wringing her hands.
"Are you regretting last night?" Jaime asks with bright interest as he strolls to the bar.
"No, no—it was…great. As you know. But I just…you don't have to—to give me the 'don't call me, I'll call you' speech. I know I'm not the woman for you, Jaime," Brienne blurts.
"No?" he says. His voice is light and amused and she scowls that he doesn't even seem to care.
It makes her angry even as it proves she's right to stop this insanity before it goes any further...even if her libido is begging her for just one more night in his bed. She's probably never going to get laid ever again, let alone laid that well, and the thought almost makes her cry.
She realizes Jaime has said something and she snaps back to the present.
He's grinning at her. "I asked if you'd like something stronger to drink than coffee."
She flushes. "No," she snaps. "I'm trying to tell you that what happened last night—"
He laughs. "'What happened'? You mean some of the most mind-blowing sex it's ever been my pleasure to experience?"
She shivers at the husky way he says pleasure and then she shakes her head, clearing it.
"Last night was a mistake, and you know it," she snaps.
"It most definitely was not a mistake," he purrs, "but tell me why you're insisting it is?"
"Because I don't have one night stands, Jaime!" she snaps, throwing up her arms and pacing the floor. "I'm not one of your groupies! I don't want to just have sex for the sake of sex, and that's all you can offer me!"
He sips his coffee, his green eyes alight with laughter even as he watches her intently.
"I haven't offered you anything yet," he says.
She flushes. "That's my point," she mutters.
"Well, your point is a bit flawed. I would have preferred to have this conversation a few weeks from now, once you get more used to dating in the public eye, but you seem fundamentally unable to simply enjoy yourself, so I suppose we may as well have this conversation now."
She's scowling, confused. "More used to dating in the pub—we're not dating, Jaime!"
He sighs. "Of course we are, you sweet summer child! You just haven't noticed!"
"We've been working!"
He rolls his eyes. "You've been working; I've been dating! And if you paid more attention to social media and the trashy gossip sites, you'd know that as far as the public is concerned, you've been my girlfriend for months!"
She gapes at him. "That's absurd!"
He shrugs. "But true, nonetheless."
"I'm not—you're—this is some sick joke, isn't it? You're just making fun of me!"
He puts down his coffee cup and steps out from behind the bar. "I am making fun of you," he says agreeable, "because you're as amusing as you are charming."
She's mesmerized as he strolls to her and puts his hands on her shoulders.
His smile is self-deprecating. "I realize I'm not the easiest man in the world to be in a relationship with, but I'd hoped we'd at least make it to the point where you realized we were dating before you broke up with me."
Brienne feels faint, her mind racing as she remembers the last few weeks. All those dinners, and movie premieres, and shopping trips, and that trip to the park—the museum—the nightclubs—
"Oh my gods," she breathes and sinks on to the couch.
"Ah," he says happily and perches beside her.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I did tell you! I even asked you out on a date, remember? You wouldn't believe me."
She barely hears him as she slowly shakes her head. "But why?" she finally whispers.
"Because you're amazing," he says simply, "and I've been fascinated by those legs forever. You're a good influence on me, you make me want to be a better man, even if I would prefer it if you would stop getting me punched every other day. Still. What's not to love?"
She blinks and flushes.
"Oh, I don't expect you to believe me," he says, "and I don't expect you to love me, too. I just want a chance to show you that I'm good for you, too, just like you're good for me."
"Jaime..." She doesn't even sound like herself, her voice weak and breathy, like she's some delicate flower of a woman instead of the woman she is.
"So, how about it, Brienne?" he asks, his voice a low rumble. "Would you like to go out on a date with me? There's a movie's opening night tomorrow that you might like. I understand the leading man is quite talented."
That makes her snort a little and roll her eyes. "And modest, too," she says drily.
He shrugs and smirks. "How about it?"
She stares, then she flushes as she slowly smiles. "All right," she says faintly.
She's rewarded with a quick kiss, that's followed by a longer, more thorough kiss, that's followed by an almost desperate make-out session, that leads to her finding herself naked as her name-day, astride Jaime on the couch, riding him towards an orgasm that turns out to be even better than the one she experienced the night before.
As they lie together on the couch, the sweat cooling on their skin, Brienne's body still humming with satisfaction as she revels in Jaime's fingers stroking her shoulder and back, Jaime chuckles.
"I told you I'd be good for you," he murmurs.
She snickers. "And you are," she says and closes her eyes.
*/*/*/*/*