Sansa Stark loved working at the The Lady and the Hound Pet Shop. She had come to know all of her regular customers - human and non-human alike - very well in the year since she had first started working there. She had her favourites of course, chief among which were Sandor Clegane and his blasphemously-named dog, Stranger. Sandor came in to purchase items - treats, jumpers, toys - for Stranger at least once a week, though it was not uncommon for Sansa to spy him in the shop more often. He doted on his little pooch and Sansa found it absolutely adorable.
She remembered the first time she had seen the pair together one fateful winter's day...
Sansa was mopping up a whoopsie wee an overly excited Springer Spaniel puppy had sprinkled everywhere when she heard a gruff voice from the next aisle over.
"I ain't picking yehr up, yeh dopey git. Yehr not the boss."
Curious, Sansa placed the mop in its bucket and propped it against a display rack. She walked to the end of the aisle and peaked her head around the corner to see who the man was talking to.
The sight that greeted her was that of an enormously tall (truly, he was the largest man she had ever encountered), scarred man crouching down and glaring at a tiny black chihuahua who was lying on the ground at the end of his leash.
"Move," the man commanded, but the dog merely blinked at him. "Here, boy."
Once again, the dog ignored the man.
The man huffed and increased the tension on the dog's leash slightly.
"It's not gonna work; I ain't carrying yeh, yeh lazy bugger," he told the dog and started to steadily draw in the leash.
The dog appeared completely nonplussed as he was dragged ever so slowly across the floor in his prone position. When he had covered about half the distance between him and the man, the dog, seemingly fine with the stand-off he found himself in, popped his little greying muzzle down onto one of his front paws.
Sansa let out a little giggle, utterly charmed by the pair.
The noise caused the man to look up and catch sight of her. He scowled and straightened to his full, impressive height. He cleared his throat and glanced away from her, clearly embarrassed about having been caught losing the stalemate between himself and his tiny dog.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but this is just adorable," Sansa said, stepping out into the aisle fully and offering the man a sheepish smile.
"He's old and stubborn," the man supplied. "Sometimes he decides he's had enough of walking for the day."
Sansa's smile grew wider. "Oh, bless him."
The big man shifted uncomfortably. He seemed unsure of what to say or do next, but unless he wanted to scoop up his disobedient chihuahua, he was stuck where he stood.
"Excuse me." A blonde woman appeared at Sansa's side. "Do you work here?"
Sansa glanced down at the smock she was wearing. It was one of several animal themed ones the pet shop had given her so that customers could easily identify her as a staff member. Today she was wearing one with little black dogs frolicking on a bright yellow background. The pet shop's name was embroidered across the back in a large, cursive font and Sansa was surprised the woman had missed it since she had approached from behind.
"I do. Can I help you with anything?" she replied politely.
"Where do you keep the hamster bits and bobs?"
"Over there by the rabbit items," Sansa replied, pointing in the direction she meant.
"Oh, I was just over there and didn't spot them."
"I'll show you where they are." Sansa and the woman started walking away, but after a couple of steps she turned around suddenly to the man. "Oh! Here," she said and held out a small, bone-shaped dog biscuit to him.
The man simply looked at it, furrows appearing on his forehead as he frowned.
"Maybe bribery will work," Sansa explained with a light chuckle and handed it to the large man before leaving him in the aisle.
Sansa did not see the scarred man and his dog again until he came to the till she was operating a little while later. She did not even try to suppress her chuckle when she saw that the chihuahua was secured firmly in the crook of the man's arm. "I guess he didn't like the treat."
Sansa reached for and scanned the man's items.
"No, he liked it," the man replied and shifted the chihuahua so that Sansa could see his greying face. The little bone-shaped biscuit was half hanging out of his mouth. "He's not got many teeth left so he gums stuff up first." The man lifted his other hand to affectionately ruffle his dog's fur. "He did get up to get it though. Just lay right back down afterwards."
Sansa laughed, amused at the dog's antics. "Perhaps it's his new way of exhorting treats from you?"
The man's lips, on the side of his face that wasn't scarred, twitched upwards slightly in what Sansa would come to learn in the coming months was his shy smile.
𓃡
Sansa saw the man again not long after a large snow storm swept into town.
"I need booties."
Sansa looked up (and up and up, gods he really was tall) from where she was kneeling on the floor, arranging the bottom shelf in the cat food section. She glanced back down at the man's feet, noting his large, large boots.
Feeling playful, she sat back on her heels, arched an eyebrow at him and said, "I don't think they make Uggs big enough to fit you."
The corner of the man's mouth ticked upwards. "For the dog."
"Oh, Uggs do make dog boots actually."
Sansa stood up and faced the man. He was frowning again, the furrows at the top of his crooked nose deepening.
"Are you looking for snow booties?" Sansa asked helpfully.
"Yes," the man nodded. The corner of his lips twitched again. "For the dog."
Sansa showed him over to where she had set up the freshly arrived canine snow boots. She picked the smallest ones off the display rack and held them out to him.
"Do you think these might be too big? They are for the chihuahua, right?" Sansa asked. "It's always tricky to know the right size when we haven't got the dog here to try them on."
The man stared at her a moment, before glancing around the shop subtly, almost as if he were checking that they were alone. Sansa turned her head side to side and looked about, not noticing anything suspicious. When she turned back to the man, he had unzipped his large winter coat just enough to reveal the snoozy face of a very cozy little black dog.
"He was in your jacket!" Sansa squealed, her voice seemingly rising an octave as she clapped her hands together in sheer delight. "That is utterly adorable."
The man huffed out what might have been a small laugh and reached into his coat to scoop out his now disgruntled pooch.
"Didn't want him getting salt and grit in his pads," the man explained as Sansa stepped closer to the pair to fit the little booties onto the chihuahua's paws.
"Ah, I thought perhaps he was still refusing to walk."
"Well… that may have played a part in it too."
Sansa's smile grew wider. She gave the little dog a scratch behind his ear and laughed when he tried to lick her hand excitedly in response.
The man put his dog on the floor and for a moment the dog walked around, lifting his feet abnormally high as he tried out his new winter accessories. After a few steps it seemed the dog decided he was not a fan and promptly lay down at his master's feet. The man rolled his eyes and leaned down to nudge his dog's bum.
"Oi, get up, boy."
The dog gave his owner an unimpressed look and remained lying down.
Sansa took a couple of steps back and reached into the pocket of her rabbit and carrot patterned blue smock for a dog treat. She lifted it up for the man to see, silently asking how about this?
The man shrugged in response. Go for it.
Sansa crouched down and made a few little kissy noises to get the dog's attention. "Hey, boy, look what I've got for you." She waved the treat, a chicken flavoured paw-shaped biscuit.
The dog seemed to consider it, scooting around on his haunches to face Sansa. Sansa adjusted herself so she was sat cross-legged on the floor.
"Come on, bo—" Sansa started, but then stopped and lifted her blue eyes to the man's grey ones. "What's his name?"
"Stranger."
"Str— Stranger?" Sansa was taken aback by the sacrilegious name and eyed the dog warily. "He's not going to take a finger, is he?"
"No teeth," the man reminded her. "He wouldn't though, but he doesn't like peop—"
The man's sentence ended abruptly as the little dog shot across the floor towards Sansa as quickly as his fabric-booted paws could carry him, inticised by the tasty morsel on offer.
"Greedy bastard," Sansa heard the man mutter under his breath as the pooch happily took the treat and hopped into her lap.
The man watched his dog try to climb up the redhead and lick her face whilst not letting go of his treat. While the chihuahua could be sweet to him, he had never shown outward affection for a stranger before.
"I think he likes yeh more than me," he only half joked.
"Oh, it's probably just because I have more treats in my pockets," Sansa replied modestly.
If she had not caught sight of a customer hovering by the till she would happily have stayed on the floor cuddling the dog for longer. As it was, she had to excuse herself and see to the other customer.
Stranger and his owner appeared at her till shortly afterwards. The man held the booted pooch in his arms once again, causing Sansa to grin.
"We have dog snowsuits as well, you know, if you're worried Stranger might get chilly. They are like padded, waterproof onesies," Sansa told the man as she scanned the boots' barcode. "Do you think he would put up with one of those?"
The man reached for his wallet in his back pocket, causing his jacket to move slightly and allowing Sansa to catch sight of a name tag pinned to his chest.
"He doesn't mind his winter jumpers," the man said before catching himself when Sansa's eyes widened in delight.
"He has jumpers? Oh, you will have to bring him into the shop in one."
The idea of the large, quiet man in front of her paired with his tiny, stubborn, jumper clad chihuahua was so enchantingly sweet.
The man took the receipt Sansa offered him and tucked his dog safely back inside his winter coat.
"Have a good day, Sandor and Stranger," Sansa said politely, smiling.
The man had been about to leave, but stopped in surprise.
"How yeh know my name?" he asked, frowning down at Sansa.
The man's done up coat was now obscuring his name tag, so Sansa tugged on her own. "Name tag."
Sandor's eyes flicked down briefly to her name tag. "Ah… Have a good day," he paused, "Sansa."
𓃡
After that day, Sandor became a regular customer and often came into the shop with Stranger. If the dog was with him, Sandor would stay a little longer and talk to Sansa while she lavished attention on a smitten Stranger. He was never talkative per say, but his comments were witty and he always listened to what she had to say. Sansa found she did not mind his laconic and sometimes rude tongue. Indeed, in the months since they had first met Sansa came to greatly enjoy their short chats and his company. She came to be able to tell when he smiled, which most of the time involved not much more than the uptick of muscles at the corner of his mouth on the unburnt side of his visage. Sansa found herself liking that smile more and more as time wore on. She found herself looking forward to seeing his large form walk through the pet shop door at least twice a week, and was sorely disappointed on days when she did not see him.
Oh, and when he called her little bird… Sansa would feel her traitorous heart beat a little faster in her chest and a rosy blush creep up her pale skin. The nickname had appeared one day when she had been whistling and singing softly to Three-Eye, the shop owner's pet black cockatoo, as she worked and the bird had been whistling back. She was not sure how long Sandor had stood there, watching her dueting and chatting with the bird, but when she had finally sensed his presence his crooked smile had been so obvious, so wide even though it was a little lopsided, that it had been worth any and all embarrassment she had felt.
"Don't stop on my account, little bird," he had said to her.
And oh, how that sweet endearment had sent her pulse racing.
It was some time in the spring that she realised her feelings for Sandor might have developed into something that was not entirely platonic. She had been preparing dinner for herself and had caught herself musing on the smile Sandor had bestowed upon her earlier that day. Even hours later the memory of it made her feel giddy and she found herself wondering what she could do to entice more of them from him.
𓃡
Sansa was feeling frazzled. She had overslept, skipped breakfast, and arrived late for work that morning. When she had shown up, the shop's weekly deliveries, which were usually staggered over the week, had arrived all at once, leaving several plastic-wrapped pallets in the middle of the shop's entryway. Then to top it off Meera had called in poorly, leaving Sansa to try and hurriedly put everything away by herself as customers started to trickle in. The small stuff was easy enough, but the numerous large, heavy bags of dog food and weighty flat packed animal enclosures soon took their toll and left her with sore and aching muscles by the time midday rolled around.
It was as she was struggling with large flat packed rabbit hutch box, just as she had eased it off the top of the second to last pallet and realised too late that she had grossly underestimated its weight, that two tree-trunk sized arms of corded muscles surrounded her and grasped the edges of the box, taking its weight completely.
"I've got it, little bird. Let go," Sandor's warm voice rumbled from behind her.
Sansa could feel his large form pressed up against her back and she found she wanted to linger in that sensation and the manly scent that had enveloped her. However, she pushed that silly notion aside, just as she did her thoughts on how delicious the woodsy soap he used smelt, and awkwardly slunk out from underneath him.
Sandor effortlessly eased the box down onto the floor before turning to her. "Ain't yeh got someone to help yeh with this?"
"Not today. It's alright though, I've done four of those pallets already and there's only—" Sansa cut off the end of her sentence as her stomach erupted in a loud, long, whale song-like groan.
Sandor lifted his one good eyebrow in surprise at the noise and a moment later it happened again. Then again.
Sansa let out an embarrassed chuckle and felt her cheeks heat as she blushed. She sheepishly patted her stomach, willing it to cease its noisy grumbling.
"I skipped breakfast and forgot my lunch at home this morning," she explained, shrugging her shoulders. "I can't pop out to the shops to pick up a sarnie because I'm the only one here today."
Sandor frowned at her and looked like he was about to say something just as Sansa caught sight of a lorry stopping in front of the shop.
"Oh gods, not another delivery!"
Sansa excused herself to deal with the unexpected arrival and by the time she returned Sandor had unloaded the two pallets full of heavy, flat packed boxes and placed the boxes in their correct aisles, leaving Sansa only the much lighter products to put away. She looked around for his tall form, usually easily visible towering above the top of the aisles, but found that he had already left the shop.
That's odd, Sansa thought, he didn't buy anything… Or say goodbye to me.
Sansa did not have time to dwell on the disappointment she felt about only seeing Sandor for a few moments, or thoughts about how wonderful it had felt to be encased in his big, strong arms, as by the time she had finished unpacking the most recent delivery, a flood of afternoon customers continuously streamed in and out of the shop and kept her very busy.
Less than an hour later, as she was talking through all the flea treatments the shop had and that what would be most appropriate for Mrs Tyrell's old, grouchy moggy, Tywin, she heard the little bell that hung above the shop's front entrance ring, letting her know that yet another customer had entered the bustling pet shop. Sansa glanced over to the entrance quickly and was taken aback to see Sandor for a second time that day, this time with Stranger in tow, standing next to the till.
"Of course, I told the vet Tywin would not like it, not one bit," the older woman was telling Sansa. "But did he listen? Ha! As soon as the vet stuck that thermometer up Tywin's arse, he turned around and bit him."
One minute, Sansa mouthed to Sandor, holding up her index finger.
She saw Sandor glance at his watch and grimace. He deposited a small brown paper bag onto the counter beside the till, far enough over to her side of it that a customer would not accidentally take it, then nodded to her in farewell before leaving.
After Mrs Tyrell had made her purchases and there was a very brief lull in the flow of customers, Sansa finally had the chance to peek inside the bag Sandor had left for her.
Oh, bless him, Sansa thought as she pulled out a large ploughman's sandwich on sourdough bread. The lovely smell of the freshly baked bread wafted up to her nostrils and her stomach rumbled loudly in response. Sansa wasted no time in taking a large bite out of the sandwich and moaned in delight at its deliciousness. She picked up the brown paper bag, noting the label Hot Pie's Bakery and decided to pay it a visit when she next had time.
Sandor's simple act of kindness stayed with her throughout the day, and by the time she had made and eaten dinner, she was resolved to return the gesture in some small way.
𓃡
"Oooh, look who it is," Meera said coyly, nodding her head slightly towards the shop's door. Sandor and Stranger had just entered. He glanced around, spotting Sansa and Meera at the back of the store restocking shelves. He nodded in greeting to Sansa and she waved and smiled in return.
"It's your pet shop boys," Meera giggled.
Sansa felt her heart speed up. "They're not my boys," she replied, trying for casual but failing if the knowing grin Meera gave her was any indication. "Really, they're not. They're just regular customers, the same as anyone else."
Meera scoffed. "Suuuuure, he just comes in here all the time for our great selection of dog biscuits and squeaky toys." She took the bag of degu food Sansa was holding out of her hands and said, "Go on, go to your boys. I'll finish this." She gave the redhead a friendly nudge with her hip.
Sansa refrained from commenting again that Sandor and Stranger were not hers and set off to find the pair. She found them by the aquaria. Sandor had lifted Stranger up to look at the fishes and the little dog was eagerly following a plump, bubble-eyed goldfish around his tank.
"Hello boys," Sansa smiled. My boys. "What are you looking for today? You know, we got some of those doggy strollers in yesterday."
Sandor covered Stranger's ears and jokingly hissed, "Shhh! Don't let him hear yeh. He'll never walk again!"
Sansa laughed and reached out to pet the little chihuahua.
"Oh well," she replied with mock seriousness, "then I definitely should not tell you about the canine papooses that came in that delivery either."
"Pap-what?"
"Those things that go around yourself—" Sansa crossed her arms around her torso in explanation, "—and you strap a baby - or pooch, in this case - into it."
Sandor scowled at her, but Sansa knew him well enough by now to know he was not actually irritated by her. He gave himself away by the corner of his mouth twitching upwards and Sansa knew he was trying not to smile.
"I have something for you," Sansa said after a moment where she and Sandor stood side by side silently watching Stranger watch the colourful array of fishes. She felt nervous all of a sudden. She wanted Sandor to like the little gift she had spent all night making him. She tried to surreptitiously wipe her sweaty palms on her frog and lily pad patterned smock.
Sandor lifted his one eyebrow, silently saying Oh?
"Yeah, I'll, um, I'll give it to you when you stop by my till," Sansa said, her belly filling with fluttery butterflies. She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly and cleared her throat. "Err, I'd better, you know..." Sansa awkwardly gestured to the shop floor before she all but scurried away. She felt Sandor's gaze following her every step and set about busying herself until he approached the till.
Sansa felt her blush progressively building, her cheeks no doubt turning from creamy porcelain, to rosy pink and finally to what Arya liked to call tomato red. Curse pale redhead complexion.
Maybe I won't give it to him? Yeah, I won't give it to him. He has probably already forgotten that I mentioned it.
Sandor, however, had most certainly not forgotten and when she had given him his change and receipt, he stood on the other side of the counter looking at her expectantly. Sansa twisted the bottom of her smock in her hands nervously.
Oh well, here goes nothing…
Sansa reached inside her pocket, clasped her hand around the very small item inside it, took it out and held out her hand balled around the item. Sandor narrowed his eyes slightly and placed his much larger hand underneath hers, ready to receive whatever she wanted to give him.
Sansa opened her hand and placed a tiny, tiny black crocheted chihuahua on the end of a keyring chain onto his open palm. The vast expanse of Sandor's work-worn, roughened palm made the little dog look all the more miniscule.
Sandor frowned down at the little yarn creation. Sansa gulped.
"I made it. It's to say thank-you for the sandwich the other day. I was really touched by your thoughtfulness," she tried to explain, but Sandor was still staring at the chihuahua in his hand. Oh no, he thinks it's daft. "But if you don't like it—" Sansa reached for the crocheted dog, intending to take it back, but the second she did, Sandor's massive hand closed in a fist around the gift and it disappeared into his pocket.
"I like it."
Relief rushed through Sansa and she smiled. Sandor's answering smile, though a little hesitant, was even wider.
𓃡
The coolness of spring soon gave way to blazing heat of summer and throughout the changing of the seasons Sansa came to realise that she was increasingly less able to convince herself that Sandor and Stranger were not her pet shop boys.
The day she finally admitted to herself that her slight crush had well and truly bloomed like the wildflower meadows surrounding the town of Winterfell into something more was a balmy Tuesday.
"Have yeh been unwell?" Sandor asked her.
Sansa stopped her scanning of his items, confused. "No, why?"
Sandor glanced away. He seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden. "Yeh haven't been in all week."
That was true, but did that mean Sandor had visited the shop every day that week, or was he just referring to a time or two he had visited the shop and seen that she was not working her usual hours? If the former, did Sansa dare to hope he had kept visiting each day in the hope of finally seeing her?
Oh foolish heart, do not go making up sweet fantasies. I thought you knew better than that by now.
"Oh, no... My brother's baby came four weeks early, so I took a week off work to help him and his wife out while she recovered," Sansa explained as she resumed scanning Stranger's treats.
Sandor hmmm-ed. "Robb's bairn's alright though?" he inquired.
Oh, he even remembers which brother it is!
"Yes, small but he's got a proper set of Stark lungs on him," Sansa laughed lightly.
"Doesn't chirp like this aunt then?"
"I think he is more of a squawker than a chirper."
Sandor chuckled, a deep, velvety rumbling noise like far off thunder. The sound had the very odd, but strangely pleasant, effect of making Sansa's scalp tingle. Oh, how she very much wanted to hear more of that.
Meera chose that moment to sidle up to the till then, newspaper in hand. "Hey, Sansa, I need some help with my crossword. It's eight down, the clue is: '80s synth-pop duo, most known for their smash hit West End Girls.' It's three words, three-four-four, and starts with a P. Any ideas?"
Sansa gritted her teeth together and narrowed her eyes at the faux innocent facade Meera was sporting. She tried to convey the message I am going to smack you with that newspaper when Sandor leaves with her eyes while not outwardly changing her facial expression.
Meera smirked.
"No idea, sorry," Sansa lied, flushing her signature shade of tomato red.
"You sure?" Meera asked, her shit eating grin growing wider.
"Yes, I'm sure," Sansa replied stiffly, shooting her friend a glare.
Sandor glanced between the two women, sensing something was going on, but he was lost as to what it might be. Somehow though, for some inexplicable reason, he had an eerie feeling it concerned him.
𓃡
The Lady and the Hound had ordered a new range of organic dog treats and Sansa had snagged a bag of the softest, smallest ones for Stranger. There was a lull in the flow of customers, with the store set to close in twenty minutes, so she did not feel too guilty about spending a little more time than usual today chatting with her two favourite customers.
"Yehr spoiling him, little bird," Sandor grunted, watching Sansa feed Stranger tiny bites of soft treats as she held the chihuahua in her arms. Stranger was very happily making his way through them, his little tail wagging excitedly.
"You say that, yet I know you are going to buy him a bag of these," Sansa replied smuggly.
Sandor huffed, but took a bag off the display rack and started towards the tills. Sansa followed and handed Stranger back to his master.
"Oh, I put something aside I thought you would like for Stranger!" Sansa pulled out a couple of small garments from underneath the counter. "What do you think of this one?" She held up a tiny bright pink ballet leotard with a sewn on tutu, just the right size for Stranger.
Sandor stared at it blankly and Sansa smiled brightly.
"He's a boy," he said simply.
"It's the twenty-first century, Sandor, clothes are not gendered," Sansa retorted smartly.
"No."
Not yet defeated, Sansa held up the second garment. "Now, I made this one myself as a prototype for the shop owner."
Sandor's silvery eyes landed on a black cotton canine jumper, with the words I get all the bitches scrawled across the back in white. The laugh that escaped him was quite unbidden, rumbling up from deep within his belly and pouring forth. He was not a man prone to laughter, but the little bird seemed to be able to pry it out of him.
"He's too old for any of that," Sandor said, shaking his head in amusement.
Feeling brave all of a sudden, and perhaps a little flirty, Sansa pointedly replied, "Some women prefer an older man." She looked Sandor in the eye as she said it. He was not that much older than herself, only 9 years, but he had referred to himself as old a time or two.
Sandor was the first to look away and Sansa swore she could see a light blush creeping up his unblemished cheek.
Sandor's mobile rang then, breaking the moment. As he answered it, Sansa finished ringing up his items and took the coins he held out to her. As his receipt printed, Sansa pondered on whether there was any truth to what Meera had been mercilessly teasing her about for weeks. Was Sandor Clegane the pet shop's most frequent customer because he came in just to see her? Could he have feelings for her that resembled the strong ones she had for him? If he did, did he want their relationship to progress past what it was now?
A timid unfurling of hope in her heart and a burst of courageous impulsiveness is why Sansa did what she did next.
Sandor was still distracted, telling someone called Tormund don't fucking touch anything yeh twat, I'll be right there so he did not notice her grab the printed receipt and hastily scribble something on the bottom of it before she handed it to him.
He took the receipt, stuffed it in the back pocket of his jeans, then scooped up the dog treats and Stranger in one, beefy arm. He nodded a goodbye to Sansa and strode out the pet shop door, totally unaware of how the redheaded woman's heart was pounding an allegro rhythm against her rib cage or how her hand was clasped so tightly around the pen she was holding that her fingertips were starting to turn white.
𓃡
It was two days later, as Sandor was checking his jeans' pockets for bits of paper or cash in an effort to save his laundry load from being confettied that he found the receipt Sansa had written on. He would have thrown it out if he had not caught sight of the loopy, cursive writing in red ink at the bottom of the scrunched up bit of paper.
He unfolded it, read the message Sansa had written and proceeded to stare at it unblinkingly in astonishment. He was not sure just how long he stood gaping at the receipt, unbelieving of the words scribbled across the bottom, but it must have been quite a substantial amount of time because Stranger snapped him out of it by pawing at his trouser leg. The chihuahua's dinner was late and the little dog was not best pleased.
Sandor checked his watch; it was just gone seven in the evening. The Lady and the Hound did not open until nine the following morning. So, he had fourteen hours to agonisingly torture himself over what sweet, beautiful Sansa had written.
𓃡
At 08:58 Sansa turned over the Open sign on the shop's front door. She had just stepped away from it and turned around when she heard the bell chime, announcing the first customer of the day. She spun back around and came face to chest (a very large, broad chest) with her favourite customer. She took a step back and looked up at him, smiling.
"Oh, hello S—"
Sandor thrust out his arm, the receipt from a couple of days ago clutched in his hand. "Is this your number?"
Sansa blinked and eyed the receipt that was now right in front of her face. She cocked her head to one side which allowed her to once again see Sandor. "Well, it does say Sansa right above it."
"Why did you give it to me?"
Sansa frowned, her ocean-blue eyes flicking to the receipt, then back to Sandor. "I also wrote that there too." She tapped the receipt, right where the words 𝓦𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓰𝓸 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮? were written.
Sandor opened his mouth, but no sound came out so he closed it after a moment. He stood there, arm out, dumbfounded.
"I mean, you are under no obligation to go out on a date with me—" Sansa started hurriedly.
"Date?" Sandor choked out, his voice strangled by shock.
"—and I really hope I have not made you uncomfortable—" she pressed on.
"Date?"
"—that really was not my attention at all—"
"Date?"
Sansa stopped, feeling immensely foolish. "Yes, date."
"With me?" Sandor's voice had recovered somewhat, but he still sounded mystified by what was happening.
"Yes."
"And you?"
Sansa let out a nervous chuckle, a little confused. "Well, yes…? I just thought perhaps we could go to the Weirwood National Park together one weekend. It's so beautiful in autumn. You could bring Stranger and I could bring Lady. There's this amazing little spot that serves the most delicious hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows on top..." Sansa trailed off. He doesn't want to hear about your silly hot chocolate. Stop embarrassing yourself further! "But don't worry about it, I can see you're not interested—"
Sandor cut her off. "Yes."
"Yes?" Sansa was still confused. "Yes, you are not interested?"
A muscle underneath Sandor's one eyebrow twitched in frustration. "No."
"No… You do not want to go on a date with me?"
Sandor exhaled loudly through his nose and the muscles in his jaw jumped slightly as he clenched his teeth together tightly. He lowered his arm and took a deep breath. "I want to go on a date with yeh."
Quick as a flash, Sansa responded, "Oh, you don't have to if you don't want to! Honestly, you do not have to feel bad about saying no."
Sandor barked out a laugh. She thought he did not want to go on a date with her? The woman had surely lost her damn mind! He was completely and utterly infatuated with her; held spellbound by her kind manner and gentle smiles; taken in by the way she had never once looked at him with fear lingering in her pretty azure eyes. Every time she joked with him or laughed at something he had said, he felt a smidgen more human and less like the scarred, old dog that he truly was. He had been visiting the pet shop several times a week for the better part of a year just to be able to steal a few precious moments of her company, and here she was telling him not to feel obligated to go on a date she was asking him out on!
"Sansa," Sandor said, looking her in the eye so that she would be under no illusions that he was anything less than completely and utterly sincere. "I want to go on a date with yeh."
A blinding smile settled on Sansa's face. "Truly?"
"Truly, little bird."
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Thank-you so much for reading! This is my first one-shot and I really hope you enjoyed it. I might write a follow-up one-shot for their date if there is any interest in that. Please leave me a review, I reply to all of them.
I made a cute picset for this fic. You can find it on the fic on my AO3 account (Zosimos_Zinky).