A/N: And, I'm back. Not a super long chapter this time because I'm...tired. Yeah, that's about it. But there's some shipping goodness and I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 46: Help

Jaime and Brienne met for lunch a few days after his visit with Tyrion at the same diner where they first discussed her case nearly nine months ago. She seemed to be in a particularly good mood today, a little smile on her face as she sipped her water and looked over the menu. Her blue eyes were bright as sapphires.

"What is it?" Jaime asked.

"Hmm?" Brienne blinked, looking up as if she had forgotten he was there for a moment. He was tempted to feel offended by that. "What's what?"

"You're usually not so cheerful during your lunch break," he said. "Usually you're more…exhausted."

"Well, I've made some break throughs with some cases," Brienne said.

"With the sex workers?" Jaime asked hopefully.

"No, unfortunately not. Though I appreciate the additional info," she said. "It's Slynt's old cases. After Jon and I turned him in, I got some of his workload. I've managed to close a few. Selmy is starting to see that I'm reliable."

"As well he should," Jaime said. "Good for you, Tarth. You deserve it."

She smiled a bit. "Well, I guess I owe you some thanks. You're the only reason we got Slynt kicked."

"I might have helped with that, sure. But the detective work is all yours," Jaime said. "Wish I could be helping you for real."

Brienne opened her mouth to reply, but a new voice interrupted her.

"Tarth!"

Jaime glanced up as another officer passed by the table. He didn't recognize this one. Must've been a more recent recruit.

"Hunt," Brienne looked up at him. "Something wrong?"

"No, no. Just wanted to say good work on those armed robbery cases," he said. "Heard you closed them this morning."

"Lucky bit of info fell into my lap," Brienne said.

"You sell yourself short," Hunt said. "I actually have a case I've been working on. I could use another pair of eyes." He glanced at Jaime for only the briefest second. "After your break obviously."

"Sure. No problem," Brienne said. Hunt clapped her on the shoulder as he walked away, and Jaime's eyes narrowed slightly.

On one hand, this was good. Back when he was on the force, Brienne was the butt of many jokes. She deserved this respect and trust from the other officers. But a bolt of irritation went through him at the sight of her chatting with Officer Hunt.

He'd meant what he said. He wished he could be working cases with her. The only case they had together was that of the sex workers with winged tattoos. And after that was over…well she wouldn't have much reason to talk to him anymore, would she?

"What's wrong?"

He focused on Brienne who was raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," Jaime played with his straw. "Who's that? He seems…nice."

"Hyle Hunt. He's actually kind of an asshole," Brienne said. "But I'm used to working with assholes."

"I hope he's not as fun of an asshole as me," Jaime said lightly.

Brienne laughed. "You think I'm going to replace you?"

"No, no," Jaime said, looking down at the menu. Yes, maybe.

"Don't worry, Lannister," Brienne said. "You really are one of a kind."

"Do you mean that in a good way or a bad way?"

"Yes."

Jaime grinned a little, but the tightness in his chest didn't go away. That longing to be back on the force. To have some purpose again. And more than that…the longing to keep Brienne in his life even when this was all over.

Jon sometimes took his lunch breaks in the park a few blocks from the station. He liked to circle the property a few times and get lost in thought. Sometimes it helped him work through a difficult case. And he was juggling a lot of difficult cases these days.

He'd been taking these sorts of breaks less and less lately, of course. Over the past few months, he'd made more friends with the new recruits. Grenn. Pyp. Edd. They ran a gambit of interesting personalities. But still, sometimes it was good to take some time alone.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the shadow falling in step with his own. Didn't realize he was being followed until his pursuer spoke up.

"Hey stranger."

He turned. A flash of curly orange hair. A slightly gap toothed grin. Ygritte. A smile lit up his face before he could stop it. "Hey."

Ygritte fell into step beside him. "I think coppers should be a bit harder to sneak up on, don't you?"

"I'm on my break," Jon told her.

"And you think no one will try to jump you on your break?"

"Are you going to jump me?"

She smirked. "Haven't decided yet."

Jon smiled. "Well…its nice to meet you under less dramatic circumstances."

"Really? And I thought that the life-or-death situations added spice to our relationship," Ygritte said. "No high-speed chases, no you trying to arrest me. No hooligans trying to rip your face off. It's almost boring."

"Well, I like my face where it is," Jon said.

"So do I," Ygritte said lightly, and Jon felt his ears grow warm.

"I actually did have a question about those dramatic circumstances," he said. "You seem to know a lot about Long Night."

"If you're trying to get a tip out of me, don't," Ygritte said. "You're off duty, but you're still with the Watch."

"I'm not looking for a tip," he said. "It's more about people who use it regularly. Like…is it common among sex workers?"

"Don't know a lot of sex workers, but I wouldn't be surprised," Ygritte said. "It's highly addictive. If you want to keep someone work for ya, might as well keep them on a drug they can't shake." She raised an eyebrow. "Why are you interested in sex workers? If you ask nice enough, you can have what they sell for no charge."

Jon coughed into his hand, looking away from her. But he could feel his face burning. "It's related to this case I'm helping out with. A lot of sex workers have ended up dead over this past year. We found one recently…had a lot of the drug in her system. I thought it might be a good lead to follow. Like maybe a dealer of Long Night has had contact with their pimp, you know?"

"Sure. You'd have to find the right dealer though," Ygritte stuffed her hands in her pockets. "It's too bad about those girls. Lot of them don't have nowhere else to turn. You ask me it's the people who hire them that should be ending up dead."

"Well, some of them have," Jon said, thinking of Joffrey. "In any case, I was just wondering. There's still a lot of questions I haven't answered and you…well you've been helpful so far."

"Helpful to a member of the Watch? My fellow wildlings would be ashamed," Ygritte said.

"You can avoid me if you want," Jon said. "I assumed that's what you were doing. You didn't text me much even after you got my number."

"I thought about avoiding you, yeah," Ygritte said, shifting to stand in front of him, blocking his path. "But then I thought… life's too short to avoid pretty things."

Jon looked away awkwardly wondering how often one woman could make him blush in a single day. She laughed.

"Poor Jon Stark. Your pale skin gives you right away." She inched closer to him. "I'm thinking of doing something else that would shame my fellow wildlings."

"And what's that?" he asked.

"Why don't you lean down and find out?"

Jon should have hesitated. Maybe even stepped back. He liked Ygritte a lot, but with everything else going on…could he handle her?

But like she said…life was too short to avoid pretty things.

So he leaned down, letting her grasp his collar and press her lips to his. He cupped her cheek in one hand, kissing her back. And for a moment he let himself forget his troubles.

He was, after all, on his lunch break.

Robb hoped that after a few years as CEO, board meetings would get a little easier. They never did. It was always a cacophony of squabbling—of men many years his senior shouting at each other across the table while Robb tried to mediate and make the best decisions.

Arguing was an expected feature of the Stark boardroom. His father always said it was important to let all of their high-level employees make their opinions known. Otherwise, they might whisper in private or seethe quietly. That made for more problems in the long run. But gods if Robb didn't sometimes want to stand up, bang his hand against the table and shout "Everyone shut your damn mouths".

The topic of today was whether they could still trust the Baratheons. Should they shift their focus to their competitors? Shore up their connections overseas? Should they try to deal with the Tyrells before they absorbed the Baratheon company completely into their fold?

"Renly hasn't broken any deals with us yet," Robb said. "He's been consistent with the contracts set up by his brother. There is no reason to fray our relationship with the Baratheons."

"He's trying to lull us into a state of complacency," Karstark said.

"We can't be led by paranoia in this," Robb said. "Or we'll end up making things worse."

"But we need to be prepared," Roose Bolton said, calmer than Karstark. He was always calm, but his words never failed to make an impact. "We need to have options in case they make a step away from us. Toward the Tyrells or worse, toward the Lannisters."

"And if the Baratheons get wind of us making those moves, we lose their trust," Robb said. "And make no mistake, they will find out. Nothing stays secret for long in this city."

"Then why keep it quiet?" Karstark asked. "Why not go on the offense. There are holes left by Stannis' death. Weaknesses in the market that we're letting up and comers fill. We need to snuff them out. Take advantage of the situation."

"You want us to take advantage of a man's death?" Glover asked. Robb was grateful that someone was speaking up against the idea.

"It's what the Lannisters did when your father died," Bolton pointed out.

"Are we the Lannisters?" Robb's mother spoke from the other side of the table. "We spend a quite a bit of time decrying Tywin Lannister in this room. And yet you're eager to mimic him?"

"He's successful in business, is he not?" Bolton asked. "We should at least be adjusting our contracts. Renly is a less experienced businessman. We can slip a few more things past him. Things that Stannis would catch but he won't. This is our chance to gain more influence over him before the Tyrells dig their thorns in entirely."

"No," Robb said firmly. "We keep the contracts as they are as a show of respect for the family we've dealt with for many years." Bolton opened his mouth to protest, and Robb held up a hand. "That's all I have to say. We're out of time. If you have any more words, put them into writing."

There was some grumbling amongst the board. But they all must have been eager to get out of the meeting as well. They stood, making their way out and Robb knew that he would be reading some very long emails later.

Only his mother stayed behind. She stood with a sigh, smoothing down a few loose strands of her red hair. "Well, that went as well as it ever does."

Robb's mouth twitched. "Is it just me, or are they getting…more disagreeable lately?"

"It's not just you," his mother said. "It's the change in the market. They're worried about Renly. The Tyrells. And there have been some new competitors rising over the last few months."

"Like Baelish," Robb said. "That start up of his has been taking off, hasn't it?"

"Very much so," Catelyn said. "He always has been a shrewd man. Even when we were young. Any chance to climb a ladder and he does it."

"He's climbing high," Robb said. "I don't suppose he'll take your friendship into account if he starts competing with us?"

His mother's mouth twitched. "I don't think we should count on that, no. But knowing him, he's more likely to find holes in the market than take us on directly."

"Holes in the market can be a problem if they're allowed to grow." Robb rubbed a hand over his face. "This is going to be a long day."

"Don't let it be too long," Catelyn said. "Dinner is at seven. Arya is coming over tonight."

"That's right. Family dinner." He exhaled. "I'll make it home. But…forgive me if I'm a few minutes late."

"I'll do my best." His mother lay a hand on his shoulder as she passed him by. Then she left Robb alone with his thoughts.

He was trying. Trying to live up to the expectations his father and grandfather set. Trying to keep the company afloat. Trying to keep as many people as possible happy. But more than ever, it felt as if he was walking on a knife's edge. He would have already fallen if not for his mother.

He just wanted things to calm down for a bit. For his work. For his family. He figured that the Starks deserved that.

Sansa was at the library again with a tall stack of books beside her. She had been reading for two hours now and her brain was starting to go a little fuzzy. She sat back, stretching her arms high in the air, and rolling her neck to work out the tension.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled again. That sensation of being watched. But this time when she looked up, she noticed the spy. A young woman peering from behind a bookcase. She ducked away as soon as Sansa made eye contact.

"Did you want something?" she called out.

The woman peaked back into view. She had beautiful, pale golden hair which fell to her shoulders in waves. She wore heavy makeup, but it was slightly smeared, and Sansa could make out a fading bruise at her jaw.

"Hey," she repeated. "Are you okay?"

"No," the woman murmured. "I'm…hiding."

"From who?" Sansa asked.

"Boyfriend," she mumbled. "He didn't follow me into the library, but I'm worried he might be waiting outside. My apartment isn't far but he's…faster than me."

"We could call the police," Sansa said.

"No," the girl said quickly. "No. Please don't. I'll just wait here for a while. I'm fine. I don't want to deal with police."

Sansa glanced from her to her bare arm. There were marks there. Evidence of drug use. She understood her wanting to avoid the cops, especially if she had anything on her.

"You said your apartment is close?" Sansa asked, standing.

"Two blocks," she said.

"Bet your boyfriend will be less willing to approach if you have company," she said. Especially famous company that would drag him for filth in the papers if he tried anything.

"Oh, you don't have to do that, miss," the woman said. "Really. I'll be fine."

"No. We're going to get you somewhere safe." Sansa adjusted her back, going to the woman's side. "I've dealt with shitty boyfriends before. I'm not letting someone else deal with one alone."

The woman hesitated then nodded, dropping her gaze. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Sansa said. "What's your name?"

The woman smiled. "It's Pearl."

Sansa walked out of the library first, scanning to see any creepy men out in the open. When she found none, she motioned to Pearl who lead the way down the street. Two blocks away, they came to a rundown looking apartment building. No one crept out of the bushes or tried to stop them.

"Do you mind walking up with me?" Pearl asked. "He doesn't have a key but the locks on the place aren't great."

"No problem," Sansa said, reaching into her bag to put a hand on her phone. Pearl didn't want to deal with police, but she'd call them if there was serious trouble.

They walked inside the lobby and up the stairs since the elevator was broken. Pearl fumbled with her keys to the door. Her hands were shaking.

"Are you okay?" Sansa asked.

"Nervous," she mumbled before opening the door and entering. "Hello?" she called into the space. Nothing answered and she crept slowly in. Sansa followed after, scanning the apartment for any sign of trouble. Pearl certainly didn't own much. Just a few boxes of things and furniture that she might have dragged out of a dumpster. She was on hard times. Maybe Sansa could give her something to help her out.

She circled through the kitchen and back to the living room. No one in sight.

"I think it's safe," she said, turning to Pearl who was still shifting nervously in the middle of the room.

"Yes," she whispered. "I think so."

"Hey," Sansa approached her. "You're going to be okay. Trust me. Why don't you give me your number? I can get you more help than this."

"You don't have to—"

"I don't have to, but I will. I can spare the money," Sansa said.

"I could never accept," Pearl said. She stepped forward, extending her hand. "Please just…you've done enough. I'll be all right."

Sansa frowned, squeezing her hand. "Pearl. There's no shame in asking for help. I've needed a lot of it in my life." She glanced down at her arms. The evidence of drug use. With help, maybe she wouldn't be so desperate for money. Maybe she could get a better job and a better place and a better boyfriend.

And amongst the marks, she saw a tattoo. A pair of wings. She had seen it somewhere before. She supposed wings were a popular enough tattoo but still.

"That's a nice tattoo," she said, looking up at Pearl. "Where'd you get it?"

She expected a thank you or an explanation, but instead the woman had tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

Then something sharp jabbed into the side neck and all went blurry. Then black.

A/N: All right, you guys got two peaceful chapters, hope you enjoyed, back into the fire! As always, thanks for your support :) Review, subscribe and I'll see you next time