AN: it's here it's here it's here

what you've all been waiting for

the arya and sandor show!

Sandor decided if he ever made it back to Sansa, he was going to ask for a kiss as payment for this mess. He was almost beyond caring if she wanted to give it or not. It seemed like a fair trade for the torture he was currently being put through. And there was no mistaking it; this was, in fact, torture. He hated every minute of it, though he pointedly didn't reflect on why.

He sat on his bike, chain smoking. From all the maps he'd looked at, all the outcomes he'd considered, all the variables he'd accounted for, this was the most likely path that Arya would take to get down south. He had to hand it to her, she was smart. It was exactly what he would've done in her shoes. He had an almost smile, thinking of the fact that Arya might be an actual challenge for once.

He watched the road with curiosity, musing on if she would be smart enough to ditch the bike, or if her pride wouldn't allow it. He bet on pride. Robb had told him all about Arya's bike. She called it Needle and had picked it out with Jon's help. If she was anything like her sister, he was willing to bet that she wouldn't switch the bike, no matter how smart it was. She needed it. It connected her to home.

Part of him wished he had something like that. The only thing that connected him to home was the scar that destroyed his face. He didn't want to be connected to his brother. If he could scrub himself free of it, of Gregor, he would. But it stayed, and would always stay, a reminder of his inability to stop him, for the rest of his life. It was no warm momento.

Except he had something else now, something that connected him to a different home. He carried it on him at all times, kept it nearby and safe. Sansa's notebook felt like it was the only thing keeping him from going crazy, on the nights he'd had to journey south. He had nearly memorized the content of each page, devouring them with greedy eyes. It was a little bit of her that he kept with him always, and he understood then why she clung so tightly to her necklace and ring.

His thoughts were interrupted by the roar of a bike and he looked up. A tiny figure, dwarfed by the bike yet completely in control of it. All black, streaking past. With a slightly savage grin, Sandor tossed down his sandwich and got on his own rented bike, a little disappointed. He had such high hopes that she would've been more difficult. But then his shoulder twinged and he wondered if more difficult was really what he wanted anyways. Besides, the faster he got to Arya, the faster he got back to Sansa.

Following her was easy. The roadway was busy, and familiar to him after all his time with Joffrey. He stuck at a safe distance, never losing her. He moved through the traffic with ease, as they headed towards the south and towards Joffrey. He idly tried to think about her plan to actually get to Joffrey and how she would kill him. It seemed strange to think that someone who shared any relation to Sansa could be a cold blooded killer, but he was beginning to think his little bird was the exception to the rule.

He was impressed with Arya's stamina. She hardly stopped or hesitated, flying down the highway with no bathroom breaks. He wondered if she was even going to sleep or eat. She would have to, at some point. Or maybe her nerves would set in first, and she'd turn for home with her tail between her legs, unable to do anything. He sincerely doubted that.

The first stop came near sundown, when she pulled off for gas. She filled her bike up, disappearing inside. Sandor parked down the street, watching her closely. She came out with a candy bar and some water. She paused before her bike to finish it off, before getting back on. He waited until she was a good distance away before following after her, ignoring his own hunger. She managed a ways into the dark before she pulled off and into a small motel for sleep. Sandor circled the area, checking for any enemies, before deciding that it was as good enough a place as any for what he had to do.

"Hey." He tried to give the lady at the front desk a charming smile when he walked into the office. She looked up at him, clearly not buying it.

"You want a room?" She asked, with a low voice that spoke of her ceaseless dedication to smoking heavily most of her life.

"Yeah-" He started and she stuck her hand out.

"Thirty-five bucks a night. You can't pay right now, you don't stay."

"Ah, no." He gritted his teeth. "I don't need a room, I need someone that's already in a room. Short kid, here just a couple minutes ago."

"Yeah, what about 'um?" The woman turned suspicious in a heartbeat, narrowing her beady eyes at him and crossing her arms.

"Why do you fucking need to know?" Sandor questioned her. "Give me a key or I'll break down the door, you understand me?"

"Why do you need to know?" The woman questioned again tartly, leaning back and glaring at him. "I ain't having you going in there and taking 'um for the sex trade or whatever - that'd be bad for my business. I got a reputation, you hear me?"

"That kid-" Sandor yanked his shirt over so that she could see the bloodstained cloth that Talisa had used to cover his shoulder wound. "Shot me. Will shoot anyone else who gets in his way. I'm a bounty hunter you fucking moron, so tell me the room and no one gets hurt."

"Christ then, put that shit away. Blood makes me sick." She complained, tapping on the ancient computer with chipped nails. "You got a name then?"

"No. Probably using a fake." Sandor muttered. He hoped Arya was smart enough to know that she needed to use a fake name.

"Typical. Fucking criminals." The woman said, mostly to herself. "Whole goddamn place is crawling with criminals. Can't clean my rooms without finding guns and condoms and drugs. Bunch of fucking degenerates ruining my good business."

"Yeah." Sandor agreed, noncommittally, not bothering to comment on the state of her 'good business'. He tapped his fingers impatiently.

"This who you're looking for?" She demanded. "Checked in like half an hour ago, goes by the name of Nym Winter? Weird fucking name."

"Yeah, that's it." Sandor said, thinking of Nymeria and the winter snows. She was clever, he would have to give her that. Except he was smarter than she was.

"Yeah, room 15. Here's the master key, don't be breaking shit down." She tossed him a keychain. He caught it, gave her a nod of thanks and went back outside.

"If she shoots me again, I get to fucking shoot her back." He muttered under his breath, to no one in particular. "That's just fair."

He found room 15 and knocked carefully, listening for her to scramble inside. There was nothing but quiet and stillness. He frowned, wondering if she'd fallen asleep already. He knocked again, louder this time, then reached back for his gun. He knocked one last time, pressing his ear to the wooden door to listen for any noise within. Alarm rose when he heard nothing.

He shoved the key into the lock, wrenching the door open and walking in with his gun drawn. He looked around, waiting for her to come up out of the dingy darkness swinging, guns blazing and teeth snarling like she had before. Instead there was nothing but the faint smell of bleach and musty sheets. He looked around in a panic, wondering if she'd been taken, before spotting a note on the bed.

He groaned aloud, putting his gun away and reaching down to snatch it up. The thing he noticed was that Arya's handwriting was almost identical to Sansa's, except for the harsh slashing line and the fact that Sansa would never write anything like this note. He sat down to read it, sighing and mentally berating himself for his cocky stupidity and where it'd landed him.

FUCK OFF

I'VE SHOT YOU BEFORE I'LL DO IT AGAIN

DON'T COME ANYWHERE NEAR ME

I'LL KILL YOU

"Hell." He muttered, rubbing his face and crumbling up the note in his fist. Well, he'd thought her smart. He'd thought her savvy. Now she was proving it, and he was getting everything he asked for. He looked at the untouched room before getting up heavily.

Back on the road it was then.

"Did you get 'um?" The woman asked, when he opened the door to her office to toss the keys back to her. He gritted his teeth.

"Not yet."

"Damn shame, you know, those fucking-" She began but Sandor slammed the door in her face. He didn't have time for her bullshit.

Arya was more careful after that. She didn't let herself be tracked and so he was left to try to beat her to Joffrey, more and more ill at ease as he went. He had no idea how far Joffrey's control had gotten, or what it would even mean if one of the Lions came across him. All he was that if he didn't get to Arya before they did, Ned Stark wouldn't have been the only Stark to go south and die.

It was endless driving, searching and hunting for her, trying to figure out where the hell she would go. The entire time he cussed. He cussed out Ned Stark for dying, he cussed out Robb Stark for going to war, he cussed out Jon Snow because he could, he cussed out the little wolf bitch, and he even cussed out Sansa, just for a single second in a fit of anger.

He had no idea where she was, so he sighed and decided to get something to eat. He was meandering through a small town just west of Joffrey, and when he spotted a food truck advertising gyros, he rationalized that Arya wasn't going to get in serious trouble in the amount of time it took for him to pull off and scarf one down. He ordered and sat on a low wall, watching the people around him in vague disinterest.

There was some sort of fair or festival going on. Kids of all ages were running around, cheering and chasing each other. Parents stood around the town square, talking idly and watching their children. No one seemed to notice Sandor sitting, watching, thinking. It was a standard gathering for everyone involved and he was ruminating on if these people had been touched by Joffrey's war when he suddenly sat straight up.

Someone was watching him. He felt it on his back, felt the gaze and all the hair on the back of his neck rose up. He very carefully finished his gyro, licking his thumb and crumpling the wrapper in his hand. He looked around calmly, noting the garbage can a couple feet to his left. He slowly got up, wondering how to draw his gun. Then a little boy sprinted past, hooting and waving a purple monkey.

Away from the families. That was what was important then. If he could get away from them, then he could avoid anyone getting hurt. No innocents. He wondered if that was Sansa's influence as he turned and walked down a side street, hands in his pocket, whistling. He felt the eyes on him, and waited for the knife to the throat or the bullet to the gut.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" A voice hissed from a dark doorway and he started, handing going to the gun before stopping.

"Arya?" He demanded and her angry face appeared from the gloom, fury written across it. Sandor was frankly surprised that he didn't have another bullet in him.

"I said leave me the fuck alone." She reminded him fiercely, but he ignored her in favor of having a moment of self congratulation. He'd found her, without even trying. Maybe he was smarter than he thought he was, maybe he hadn't gotten so out of practice-

"Hey!" He caught her elbow when she tried to storm off past him. "Hey, no, no, no, where the fuck do you think you're going?"

"Let go of me." Arya rounded on him, eyes flashing. "I'm going to kill Trant!"

"Who?" He stared at her blankly and she stood struggling to look at him incredulously. He stared right back, uncomprehending.

"Meryn Trant. Toad? He's one of the Lions? The Toad? Known for molesting little girls?" She listed off rapidly and he blinked.

"Fucking Trant is here?"

"Yes?" Arya looked at him, less and less impressed as the conversation rolled on out. Even he was less impressed with himself.

"What?" He stared at her and Arya sighed, taking a patient breath like a teacher about to explain something to a very dumb student.

"Listen," She said, with faux politeness. "I know my brother sent you here to get me back because mom is a walking panic attack and that my sister thinks the sunshine shines out your asshole, but I don't give a fuck. I'm not here to be babysat or taken back home. Robb can go on playing his war, I'm going to get shit done. I'm going to kill every fucking Lion I can."

"Hey, hey, hey, alright." Sandor stopped her from blowing past him. "How the fuck did you know Toad would be here? How the fuck do you even know what he looks like?"

"Please." Arya looked at him like he was an idiot. It seemed to be a permanent expression of hers regarding him. "Have you ever heard of the internet?"

"Alright, fucking cut the sass." He ordered, narrowing his eyes. "You know he's here? You know which one he is? And how the fuck do you know he molests little girls?"

"The internet." Arya repeated, slower, enunciating the words pointedly. "You can find mugshots online for anyone. Probably even your scarred shit. And if they have a mugshot, they have a record. You find their records, open them up, see what's inside. He's been arrested a bunch for standard outlaw shit, but he's also a registered sex offender. He got turned in for exposing himself to a 4 year old."

"The fuck?" He looked at her in horror. Trant had always repulsed him, but he had always chalked that up to the fact that every man in the clubhouse was some form of a dirtball.

"Exactly." Arya patted his chest. "So he's going to die first."

"No, no, hey, wait." He ordered, throwing his arm out so that she stayed in the alley. She glared up at him but didn't draw a gun, so he took that as his cue to keep going. "You say he's here. You wanna kill him? Tell me where he is and how you're going to do it then."

"He's Pasty Face the Clown." Arya stated and he sighed heavily.

"That's fucking typical."

"And I'll kill him." Arya stated then shrugged. "It shouldn't be hard, it's not like he's a genius. I mean, I'm already smarter than you and - hey!" She protested, as he grabbed her around the waist and tossed her over his shoulder, marching away the from the busy town square.

"Would you- Ow!- stop kicking me?" He demanded as they went and Arya's small fists pounded into his back instead.

"I swear to god when you put me down I am going to kill you." She threatened, when he rounded a corner and went down another back alley.

"Or I'll put you down, you listen to what I have to say, and then I'll help you kill him. Just don't fucking shoot me, alright?" He bargained and Arya was still and silent.

"Fine." She said sullenly and he gave her a second to think about it. Then he unceremoniously dumped her down onto some pallets.

"No more shooting." He ordered her and she huffed, folding her arms. For a second, he saw her as the teenager she still was. "Now listen to me. What did you see back there? You're so smart then, tell me what exactly is going on out there."

"It's a thanks festival." She said, still pouting. "Some Disney moms here think that we shouldn't be celebrating the whole Pilgrims thing so instead they do this shit and-"

"Ok, fucking fast forward." He instructed her, glaring at her.

"He's a clown, he's doing balloon animals by the mini corn dog stand." She muttered sullenly. "He's probably going to-"

"No, none of that." He tapped her between her eyes and she started, opening her mouth to protest furiously but he cut her off. "Are you thinking at all?"

"Hey!" She said sharply but he went on.

"What do clowns do, you moron?"

"Clown shit." Arya threw her hands up. "I don't know, whatever the fuck clowns do, make jokes, balloon animals, that shit-"

"Aye and who do they do it for?" He pressed and for a moment she looked ready to burst before understanding came across her face.

"Kids." She said quietly and he nodded.

"Aye. Fucking kids. And do you know who you might shoot if you fucking miss the child molesting biker?" He laid out and she sighed.

"Alright. Fine. Fine. Fine." She waved her hands. "I get it. You were right, I was wrong, I get it now. So what are we going to do about it?"

"You tell me, genius." He folded his arms and stared down at her. She huffed, glaring at him for a long moment before shifting into pacing."What are we going to do?"

"We get him away from the kids." She said logically.

"How?"

"We lure him away."

"How?"

"I don't know, I…" She looked at him and frowned slightly. "Wait. Why don't you just tell me what we're going to do if you have a plan?"

"No." He sat down on an overturned bucket. "You think you're so smart and you had all these plans, then let's see them in action."

There was a long pause of silence as Arya huffed and puffed, pacing back and forth, frowning and muttering about things. She would steal furtive glances at him. He sat calmly, twiddling his thumbs and whistling, watching her. She was far shorter than Sansa and they held nothing in common besides the pale skin. She had none of Sansa's grace or poise.

"Alright." She said quietly, sitting down across from him. She'd shifted into a calmer version, losing some of her spark. "What is it then?"

"What did you do wrong?" He questioned and she looked ready to go off again but calmed herself down, taking a deep breath.

"Got sloppy." She admitted.

"You wanted revenge too bad." He corrected. "That made you sloppy. You're a good shot, and I think you might make a good killer given enough time. Don't tell anyone I said that, or I'll fucking deny it, you hear me? So right here, right now, tell me you can leave your revenge at the door."

"I am going to avenge my father-" She started hotly and he waved a hand.

"Fine, fine, fucking whatever. I get it. That's fine. But you have to promise me that you stay above it. Don't let it in. You don't fucking endanger kids, innocent people. You know your role, you always remain above it. Look around, take it in, make the best choice." He stared at her so she took in his full seriousness.

"Fine." Arya took a deep breath. "Ok, got it. My revenge blinded me. I wanted to kill him so badly I didn't think about endangering other people. Sorry."

"Good." He said stoutly and they looked at each, hesitating to see where it would go now. He stuck his hand out to her.

"Ok." Arya shook it and then straightened out her black clothes before looking up at him. "Can we go kill the bastard now?"

"Fine, but you listen to me, alright? No questions." He ordered and she gritted her teeth, struggling for a long moment before caving.

"Ok fine, can we go?"

"Alright." He turned down the alley, away from her. "And what the fuck do you mean she thinks sunshine comes out my asshole?"

"Not the moment dude. Not the fucking moment."

He watched as she got into position. Now that he was aware of Toad's presence, he saw what he'd been missing. The man's fat, cruel face was painted white with an exaggerated red smile and a rainbow wig adorned his head. He had a little boy on his lap, as kids in front of him chattered and played with toys and balloon animals. It made him grit his teeth, but it wouldn't take long. Nothing bad could happen to the kids, not in public. But that didn't mean he didn't dislike it.

A flash from his left meant the Arya was ready, so he picked up a popcorn box some child had left behind and went striding towards the clown show. He shouldered his way to the front of the crowd, taking a handful of stale popcorn and munching on it, watching Toad. He was talking and making balloon animals, and as the parents near Sandor growled and muttered in annoyance, Toad looked up.

Sandor ate another handful, looking Toad directly in the eye. He trailed off and when his beady eyes went wide, Sandor knew that his part was complete. He munched on popcorn before turning around and walking away from Toad with even steps. He heard the commotion behind him, heard Toad trying to get past people and he tossed the popcorn aside.

He kept walking, evenly, towards the alley. He stuck his hands in his pockets once again, whistling a cheery little tune. He could hear Trant behind him but he didn't look back. He kept walking, waiting for the moment that Toad would strike. It didn't take long; he wasn't even to the alley when the low voice came up from behind him like a vile cloud of smoke.

"Clegane you fucking bastard, I have a-"

Sandor turned, looking at him with a small little smile. Toad had stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. Arya stood behind him, a knife pressed to the pudgy rolls of skin at his neck. Sandor gave a little smile as Arya eased him into the darkness of the alley, her savage little smile back on her face. Sandor waited until she'd gotten him down on his knees in front of her.

"You got this?" He asked her quietly and Arya's little smile grew.

"Yeah." She said, almost tenderly, the knife biting harder into Toad's neck. "I've got this. Do you know who I am, you bastard?"

"No." Toad grunted and Sandor turned his back, watching out for any people are Arya carried on behind him, voice quiet.

"My name is Arya Stark. Do you know who my father is?"

"Ned… Ned… Ned Stark."

"Yes." Arya uttered and Sandor used his pinky nail to dig a kernel out from between his back teeth. "And you stood by while they killed him."

"He was a traitor. He deserved it." Toad spat and then went silent again. Sandor imagined that Arya's knife was biting a bit deeper.

"He was not!" Her voice was raw with pain and something inside him twinged. There was her connection to Sansa, the thing that marked them as sisters; their pain reminded identical. "He was a father! A good man! And you killed him for it!"

"Girl." Sandor said tersely, waiting for some child to wander down the wrong road and come upon them and the horror.

"Traitor!" Toad accused him and Sandor glanced back over his shoulder at him. The man's eyes were bulging and he was shaking. Sandor sniggered.

"Who the fuck said I was ever loyal to you?" He turned back around. "Get on with it then wolf-bitch, we don't have all day."

"For the north." Arya whispered and there was a spluttering wet gasp and Sandor didn't turn around, waiting until Arya stood next to him, her knife hidden back somewhere on her body. She stared straight ahead and didn't seem bothered in the slightest. He waited for her to say or do something but she simply cracked her neck and then looked up at him. "Hungry?" She asked and he paused, then gave a shrug and a nod.

"Yeah, sure." They left the alley, before getting on their bikes. They left behind the little town with it's little festival and the body of Meryn Trant, bleeding out in an alley.

They found a dingy roadside diner, with grease coated burgers and fries to eat. Sandor smiled to see that Arya dipped her fries in a milkshake, remembering that Sansa had always done just that. It wasn't looks the Stark girls shared; it was something deeper. They were two sides of a coin; always facing different directions, but forever made of the same stuff and bonded together.

Arya ate in mostly silence. He watched her curiously but her emotions didn't play out across her face like they did on Sansa's. She was silent, her eyes dark, and she ate with the flat mechanism that required no emotions on her part. He wondered what would happen now, if she would let him take her home or if she would continue to fight him on it.

"Alright." He said, once they were nearly finished. Arya slurped down the remainder of her milkshake, staring him down.

"What?"

"What are we doing then?" He demanded, taking one of her fries and eating it. "Are you going back where you belong?"

"I belong here." Arya didn't seem bothered in the slightest. Her calm was unflappable and he had to admit that he was impressed by it.

"You belong in the north, Nym Winter." He stated and she looked down at her hands for a long moment. When she looked up, he saw all ice.

"No, I don't. I belong here. I belong to revenge, to death, to this. The north is safe, it's for my mother and Sansa and the boys. But I'm going to stay here until I've killed everyone that hurt my family. So you can help me or you can go home." She said flatly.

"Listen." He said, not unkindly. "I fucking get it, ok? Most of my life has been waiting for some goddamn revenge. I get it. But you keep going after this fucking thing, it's going to kill you. And I think it's pretty fucking clear that your family won't be too happy about that. So come home, see your family, and do it right." He gave her a long stare and Arya sighed.

"Fine. I'll go but you have to tell Robb to let me come back. I'm not done." Arya bargained and Sandor stuck out his hand.

"Fucking deal. Now let's go, before they get suspicious." Hands were shook and money slapped down before two bikes roared away.

That night they sat in a motel. A part of him was amused that he was in such a similar situation as he had been in with Sansa, but things were absolutely different with Arya. Two seperate beds, two seperate bags, two separate everything. Arya cleaned her gun meticulously while he pulled the notebook out of his bag and started flipping through it.

"Why do you have that?" She demanded suddenly and he looked up at her, then back at the ragged notebook. Arya was watching it with covetous eyes. Part of him wanted to hide the notebook away from her, to keep Sansa to himself.

"She left it." He said slowly.

"And you just look through it?" Arya's frown was deepening, a large crease appearing between her eyebrows. "Give it to me."

"Why?" He automatically tried to shield it away and Arya leapt from her bed to his, grabbing for the notebook. He fought her off, trying to protect it.

"Give it to me! Give it!" She ordered and he roughly shoved her off. She fell back onto the bed and sprang up like a jack in the box, except with more rage.

"Don't fucking touch it." He said to her with a glare. "Don't you fucking touch it, or I'll take your fucking hands off you little bitch."

"It's not yours!" Arya yelled fiercely.

"Aye, but it was Sansa's." He responded.

"Why do you care?" Arya burst, rage coming forth like a toddler spurned. "Why do you even fucking care? She's my sister, she's my sister, she's my fucking sister! Mine! Show me!" He waited for her to stomp her feet and throw herself on the ground for effect.

"Why the hell do you want it so bad?" He questioned, holding her off with his feet.

"Because it's hers!" She yelled. "It's hers, it's hers, it's hers!" For the first time, he saw her heart crack open and pour out just a little bit.

"Here." He shoved it towards her, surprising even himself. "Here then, look. But if you damage it, I'll fucking rip you in two."

Arya took the notebook greedily, opening up the pages and flipping through them. She stopped on visions of the wolves, and on drawings of their family. She stared longest at the one that had her and Sansa, juxtapositized on opposite sides, their wolves mingled between them. Her fingers reached out and touched Lady's face. She went to the next one, a recreation of Winterfell.

"She did all of these." Arya muttered and Sandor wasn't sure if it was a question or a confirmation, so he stayed silent. "When she was there."

"And on the road." He grunted, seeing the next drawing. It was the range of mountain tops, and he recalled the way her hair had blown in the breeze the day she'd drawn them. Sansa had loved the mountains. She loved the damn things and now he apparently did too.

"Do you love her?" Arya looked up at him without preamble and as much as he wanted to snarl and push away, he saw the drawing of him, rough and unfinished, a study of him with guns. He remembered Sansa doing it, and how he hadn't minded.

"I spent my whole life screaming." He said instead, looking down at his scarred arms and hands. "Sansa was the first one who ever heard me… And it fucking terrified me."

"Is that why you took her?" Arya's voice was nearly soft.

"Aye." He said quietly. "It was."

"I don't think you took her." Arya said quietly and the next drawing was that of arms, intertwined. No faces belonged to them, but one was large and rough, the other thin and smooth. It wasn't difficult to imagine them onto himself and Sansa. "I think she took you."

"Might be." He decided he'd had enough of Arya Stark, with her prying eyes and her questions that felt too real. He laid down and rolled over. "Shoot anyone who tries to get in, will you?"

AN: um so the arya moodboard is my most fav, plz feel free to check it out on my tumblr and also be my friend there ok rad

i hope you all enjoyed this, i have so much fun writing it, and reviews are just the cherry on top!