Sansa rose up onto her tiptoes to kiss her husband, the tender love they had for one another lit by the halogen lights that Jefferson and Tyrion had set up hours earlier.
"Pop, if you wouldn't mind." Petyr gestured loosely to the cornered Detective Inspector when Sansa's lips left his.
Heyerdahl had just decided his best bet was to rush the little lion when suddenly Seb shoved him forwards jolting the man out of any plan he had. Heyerdahl struggled but Jefferson and Vandeveer managed to hold him still without too much of a problem.
"Well, I have alibi's to spread so, you know, have fun with the whole stabby, stabby thing." Said Tyrion as he started down the hall towards the stairs. "Bye, Red."
"Bye, Tyrion." Sansa responded kindly.
Amidst the chaos and struggling the Lannister sauntered off into the darkness, his fading footfalls being the only indication he'd ever been there to begin with.
"Don't hold him too tight, Van." The doctor told his blond friend quickly. "I can't explain away pre-mortem bruises on his wrists."
It took longer to render Oren unconscious without just clocking him over the head or choking him out but – as Jefferson had said – they couldn't leave any evidence on his body. Eventually they'd managed it and Heyerdahl had slumped heavily into Van's arms. They only needed a few moments of unconsciousness so they could move him without a hassle.
Steadily Petyr, the blonde cop and Jefferson moved their target down the dark hall that Petyr and Sansa had been stood in at the end of which were a set of dusty double doors. With a harsh creek Sebastian pushed open the door while Sansa grabbed Petyr's bag of tricks then followed the boys.
Inside was a fairly spacious room lt by two large halogen lights. The air smelt stale, certainly aged, but the four men nor Sansa didn't seem to notice; and no one cared if Oren noticed. Sansa set her husband's bag down beside Jefferson's on the long bench that had long ago been fixed to the back wall then took out several pairs of latex gloves and tossed them to each of them men who donned them quickly; Sansa slipped her own on before she hopped up onto the bench to watch.
Together Petyr, Jefferson, Sebastian and Van hoisted Heyerdahl up onto a rickety chair with a thick rope around his neck; a tease of his imminent demise. It was that moment the Inspector started to come around , his eyes fluttered open and the limp weight of him started to support itself once more. The cheepjack looking chair wobbled forcing him to full attention faster than a food bag at a kennel. Carefully Heyerdahl balanced as the CEO, two cops and doctor backed away to admire their handy work.
"You can't do this!" Heyerdahl growled as Petyr slipped off his suit jacket and handed it to Sansa who folded it neatly in her lap.
The four men shared a look then nodded in agreement.
Petyr smirked. "I think you're right. Sansa, Sweetling, would you like to put an end to Heyerdahl just as you did Joffrey?"
Petyr hadn't offered so she was just as guilty as the rest of them, no. No, if it ever truly came to something like that he'd implicate himself for everything before he let Sansa suffer the full extent of the law. No, he asked if she wanted to do the deed because he knew how important control over her own life was to Sansa. True Petyr would have been happy to just handle all the horrid situation for her but this was about Sansa's family.
Sansa didn't speak, just hopped down from her spot on the bench and calmly walked over to the man who'd started all this so many years ago. The man who'd told Cersei Lannister about her father and his knowledge. The man who'd caused the violent, horrific, deaths of her parents, her siblings and her cousin, Jon. The man who had single handedly brought down the fall of her family. The sole reason Sansa had been in Cersei's path and forced her into being a sex slave for Joffrey.
Sansa could see in Heyerdahl's face that he'd never suspected her to have been the one to end the inbreeds life. Without a single hint to the anger bubbling away inside her Sansa yanked the chair out from under Heyerdahl's feet and watched as he kicked and fought for purchase desperately. Petyr took Sansa's hand into his own and pressed a loving kiss to her temple.
Television lied, it showed hanging as quick and simple, a single snap of the neck or a waggle of feet for a few seconds before the body fell limp. All of that was a lie. Suffocation took time. Had to work its way into every inch of the body. The brain needed to starve of oxygen and the heart had to give up. For a spilt second hanging was just uncomfortable but then the pressure took over, built up as the mind panicked. The adrenaline didn't help either, forced the heart to beat faster and the body to flail like a flounder out of water. Quickly Heyerdahl would have found the vision around his eye tingle and quiver as starving blood ran through the veins. Then, as Death reached out its icy hand the detective's vision would have turned blurry and blackened at the edges while the darkness closed in. All while Baelish, his wife, Doctor Von Voltaire, Pop and Vandeveer watched on uncaring.
Heyerdahl fell silent and still then and Sebastian cast a small glance over to his lover.
"Check if he's alive would you, love?"
Jefferson nodded with a little smile. "Sure thing." The Gothic doctor retrieved the chair that the redhead had left tipped over on the ground and righted it then set about searching for a pulse. "Oh yeah, he's dead. Totally dead."
The group snickered and smirked then Petyr clapped his hands together.
"Alright, we haven't got all day here and I let Tyrion drive my car so I'd rather not let him have the keys too long. Let's get this staged."
From Petyr's bag came several printed pages about those he'd cleaned over the years; not all of them of course just the headliners and a few whose photographs he'd managed to obtain. Sansa, with help from Van, set about pinning them all up neatly in a very Heyerdahl way based off of photos Larroquette had gotten them. Pop slipped the gun Petyr had used to kill Cersei – a gun that had taken ages to dig up and reassemble – onto the end of the bench before he went to get a copy of Heyerdahl's prints direct from the source as it were, they needed to be littered around all over the gun and anything else one could have touched even by accident.
After a few seconds of debate Petyr had decided to rest the shovel he'd used to dig most of the graves in the corner beside the double doors, out of the way but easily accessible. They needed the place to look used.
"Hey, Petyr?" The CEO turned to face his best friend who eyed the shovel. "Why were you lugging that thing around when folding shovels exist?"
Petyr didn't miss a beat. "You ever tried to dig a grave in the middle of winter so you can bury a prostitute Robert Baratheon filled so full of coke and fuck knows what that she overdosed in his bed at three in the morning?"
The Detective Sergeant nodded to himself. "Touché."
"Although I do have one. They're pretty good, easy to use and strong." He shruged while they all continued to work.
"Might have to get one."
That comment instantly got Jefferson to raise a perfectly shaped eyebrow and he paused in his movements.
"Why? Burying a body or you finally taking that stump out the back yard?"
Sebastian cast his lover a teasing grin. "Maybe a little of both."
The group of men chuckled at that while Sansa smile watching her children's godfathers as they leant in for a tender kiss. Knowing Jefferson was well and truly distracted by the man he loved Van rolled his eyes and just went back to wiping down the chair and applying Heyerdahl's prints to it. The blond stepped back a few steps to assess the chair then with a single shove he knocked it over just as if Heyerdahl had kicked it out himself.
"Ready for this, Jefferson?" The slightly elder man asked when it became clear the cop and doctor had gotten distracted. Sebastian stepped back and the Gothic ME nodded to Baelish.
"Yeah, I ran DNA tests yesterday with the sample Seb got for me. The trail of evidence is all there for anyone to see."
"Good." Said Petyr as he approached Jefferson. "Hold still, this is going to hurt."
The Detective Sergeant pulled a childishly unhappy expression. "Really, Petyr? His face is so pretty."
Baelish sighed exasperatedly. "Shut up, Pop, and eat another Snickers."
Van snorted but he went mostly ignored by everyone except Sansa since she was stood right beside him.
"Jefferson, hold still." Petyr insisted again and held his hand out behind him for Sansa to drop a pair of knuckle dusters into his hand. "Sorry about this."
He slipped them on then, without a single second of hesitation, he decked the doctor square in the face knocking him to the dusty ground. Petyr miss a beat though, just stepped forwards and grabbed Jefferson by the collar so he could hit him several more times. The blows were harsh and unmerciful. Eventually Sebastian had to grab his best friend and pull him away.
"Petyr, stop! For fuck's sake you don't have to enjoy it. Shit, I know Heyerdahl would but Christ man, stop."
Petyr nodded and released the doctor, of course he did, this was the man his best friend loved. Quietly he slipped off the bloodied knuckles and tossed them over on the bench where they landed with a loud thud. Sebastian helped his lover over to the bench's leg, the entire time all they could hear was Jefferson hiss in pain as blood rolled down his face.
"Shit, baby, this isn't good."
"That's the idea, right?" Jefferson tried to smile but the blood had made his vision blurry and the pain stopped anything but a sneer from developing. "Means it's convincing."
Vandeveer helped Jefferson to take off his latex gloves while Petyr rummaged in his bag. It didn't take long for the man with ash at his temples to tug out a black zip tie and tossed it to Sebastian who bound the doctor to the table leg.
"Ouch!" Exclaimed the bloody man. "Not so fucking tight."
Petyr smriked. "Oh, I've known Pop since we were kids, he's going to tie you down as best he can because that's how he gets his rocks off. Don't pretend he won't." Sebastian muttered something that sounded like 'shut up' but none of them were quite sure. Petyr cleared his throat. "Alright, Jefferson, you're going to have to struggle out of that."
The dark-haired doctor nodded in agreement and started working on getting himself loose. "On it."
"Where is Heyerdahl's service weapon?" The CEO – and clear leader of their group – asked calmly like he hadn't just beaten Jefferson to a bloody pulp.
It took less than half a second for Sebastian to produce both Heyerdahl's primary and back up guns. He handed them over to Petyr who nodded his thanks before he turned to attention to his perfect Sansa.
"Sweetling, would you wipe his back up down and-" She cut him off with a loving smile.
"I know, Master."
Petyr grinned and kissed his ever devoted redhead. So smart, so perfect, so utterly his.
"My good girl."
Sansa made quick work of wiping down Oren's back up before she slipped the prints they'd taken from Heyerdahl back on then returned it to his ankle holster still on his body. Putting prints on evidence was one of the first things Petyr had taught her and Sansa knew how to do it well. While Sasna was doing that Petyr took Heyerdahl's primary weapon and checked it was fully loaded the carefully aimed towards the double doors they'd all entered through.
"Pop, hold that door open a bit for me, would you?"
Sebastian didn't speak, just strode over to the depopulated doors and pulled one open while Jefferson continued to struggle against the thick zip tie. Sansa watched her husband with bold blue eyes. These were the things her family was capable of.
She went back to helping Van to set up the clippings on the walls. Vandeveer had spent months practising Heyerdahl's chicken-scratch handwriting until it was perfect, just so he could write the scrawled messages that looked like those of a mad man.
Suddenly Petyr fired four shots in quick succession just inches from Sebastian's chin, the detective didn't look all that pleased.
"For fuck's sake, Petyr, that's my whole face!" He yelled as the shot door swung shut and he waved his hand in front of his face.
Baelish didn't even react, just left the room for a few seconds only for two more shots to ring out down the hall. When he came back Sansa could have sworn she saw the gun still smoking. He returned the weapon to Heyerdahl's body just as Sansa had.
Just then the sound of thick plastic snapping sounded and four sets of eyes flashed down to see Jefferson as he triumphantly got free of the zip tie, before the doctor could shuffle to his feet though Petyr stretched out a hand to him, Jefferson assumed it to bea a silent apology for punching him in the face so hard he broke his nose and may have fractured his orbital socket but no.
"I want scuff marks on the floor in the blood. Make it look convincing. Oh and make sure to put your hands on the floor and door when your run out."
Jefferson sighed, Petyr could be a hardass but he was trying to make sure all six of them got away with murder … a lot of murders.
"I knew I shouldn't have worn my good shoes." The Gothic doctor grumbled as he did exactly as Baelish had instructed.
Suddenly Jefferson surged to his feet and out the door as fast as his feet would carry him. It took longer for him to return than they'd expected but when he did it was with a self-satisfied smirk on his lips and his shoes in his hands so he'd not drip blood anywhere he shouldn't have.
"Scampered up the stairs too, gotta sell it all. Anything else, Petyr?"
Baelish shook his head. "No, it's perfectly clear what happened, thank you, Jefferson."
Sebastian leaned back so he could see Van over Petyr's shoulder. "Think we're done here, Van."
"Let me just finish this." He said with a loose gesture to the wall of incriminating evidence.
Petyr nodded to himself as he looked around the room to make sure they'd not missed anything. "Heyerdahl's phone is still in his pocket and Pop's been pickpocketing it and bringing it down here for months so we have a record." He said more to himself than the others. "We all left our cellphones so we're off the grid. Tyrion is at that café using Pop's to keep calling Jefferson and he's taken my car back to The Mockingbird." Petyr paused a moment then turned to the blond cop. "Vandeveer, when you get back to the station start calling Jefferson as well."
"Will do."
"Jefferson, you put his DNA under Cersei's nails, right? Had it lab tested and everything?" The doctor nodded. "Everything has been set up here. Yeah, we're done."
Sebastian placed a kiss to his lover's temple away from the blood. "Baby, you're going to have to wait about a half hour then go to that plant nursery for help just like we talked about."
"I know, Seb, I was there when we fucking planned it."
"Van," Petyr broke in as he started to bag away his things with Sansa's help. "take Sansa and I back to the club then drop Pop off."
The blond nodded. "Wonders of having an old car, no GPS."
"Wonders of being a Cleaner, took mine out years ago." Baelish shot back sardonically.
"Everyone good for the story?" Asked the Detective Sergeant which got a nod from everyone.
They'd all memorized their story back when they'd first come up with it. None of them were new to this.
"Wonderful." Said Petyr as he held his bag up. "Gloves in the bag."
Everyone obeyed quickly and Petyr made sure to hold the door for them all as they left since he was the only one still wearing gloves. Once they were out he left it fall shut again leaving Oren Heyerdahl's body to dangle there in silence. They all had the main 'he's caused too many problems' reason for killing him but each had their own motive as well. From all the homophobia to simply calling a man's wife a whore. No one would mourn Oren, he'd never made any friend and both times he'd conned a woman into marring him it had ended in divorce and a new woman who hated him.
Their exit meant the game was on. The little team would have some last minute things to do in order to keep Bronn off their backs until Tyrion could convince Jaime to call him off but none of them foresaw it being too much of a problem.
Sebastian didn't like leaving Jefferson behind at the abandoned factory but he didn't really have much choice but to man up and live with it; they needed to sell kidnapping after all. Jefferson had found Heyerdahl's DNA on Cersei and Heyerdahl had taken him in a bout of panic, that was the story they needed to stick to.
As Van drove them all to where they needed to be Petyr noticed that Sansa just stared out the back passenger window with a rather blank expression on her face.
"Sansa," he began slowly, "Sweetling, are you alright?"
After a moment those cerulean orbs flashed away from the road and to her husband. She nodded.
"I'm okay." She told him. "I just feel relieved now he's dead. Poppy and Tristan are safe and now my family has vengeance." Petyr offered her a loving smile as Vandeveer took a corner. For a woman twenty-eight years younger than him she truly did have a wisdom that only came with maturity. "I feel as though a weight has been lifted off of me. I'm free and nothing of my old world remains. You've told so many lies, all of them to protect me."
Sansa leant into Petyr's chest in search of warmth and love which she quickly found. Petyr had opened his mouth to reply but Vandeveer got there first and ruined the mood.
"Damn, girl. Why can't I find a woman like you?"
"Because no one is like Sansa and she's mine." Petyr told the cop sternly without taking his eyes off of his darling wife. He watched as Sansa lit up. "I love you, Baby Girl."
Sansa pressed herself further into Petyr's chest. "Love you too."
"I love you as well, Pete-Pete." Sebastian teased from the front seat which got a chuckle from Van and a groan from Petyr.
"Oh, Gods, please don't start saying that again."
"Pete-Pete?" Van questioned without taking his eyes from the road. "Seriously?"
"It pissed him off no end at university so of course I kept doing it."
"Sebastian, I can and will shoot you."
Larroquette shook his head. "Nope, you love me too much and you know it."
"Do I know that?"
Honestly, no one would have suspected that less than an hour ago they'd murdered one of KLPD's supposed finest. Then again that was the idea, no one was ever to know.
The blond officer dropped Petyr and Sansa off at club and everyone went on with their day as usual, did exactly what they did every other day. Petyr got some much needed paper word done while Sansa snuggled in his lap before the kids needed picking up from kindergarten while Sebastian and Van pretended to search for a missing Jefferson. Tyrion had kept their covers going and they'd made sure not to leave so much as a footprint in the wrong place.
They'd get away with this just like they'd gotten away with everything else for the last two decades.