A/N: Here's another one. It's a little longer than the others so I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, you get it? Abso-freakin-lutely nothing!

Sandry swept through the crowded room balancing several drinks on a tray. It was a difficult skill to learn, but after several lessons of the severe posture of nobles, grace was not a problem for her.

There were so many people; from the off duty soldiers singing merrily, to the poor heartbroken saps trying to drown themselves in their mugs, to the traveling families with children and pets alike crawling about on the floor. Side stepping one such toddler, Sandry made it to the bar where a middle age woman was preparing drinks. She was short and stocky, with strong arms and broad shoulders. Brown curly hair was tamed into a loose bun at the back of her head, revealing a round face. Hazel eyes, set over a straight nose, observed the world around her sharply and were softened by a wide laughing mouth and flush cheeks. The woman wore a simple but comfortable dress of lavender, with a linen shift and apron. Well used leather boots laced up to her ankles.

Sandry put her tray on the bar top and unloaded empty mugs. "Kellen, I need 3 pints, a round of shots, 2 bottles of travelers' wine, and an ox to carry it all." Kellen grinned and patted Sandry's shoulder in mock sympathy.

"You're doing quite fine on your own, dearie," she said, then busied herself with drink preparations.

With a heavy sigh Sandry settled herself on a stool, wiping her hands on her apron. It was her second night of real work, and it was hard to get used to. She had come to the Border Tavern a week ago, and had settled in rather nicely. Kellen, part owner with her husband Ben, had taken Sandry in and offered her a job. After a few days of dish duty and being shown the ropes, she was ready to take on full time serving.

"Where's Ben?" Sandry asked as Kellen handed her the loaded tray.

"In the kitchen with Sam unloadin' the latest shipment of supplies." Sam Gebber was cook and longtime friend of Ben and Kellen. He was a big man who could curse like a sailor; he had become a good friend of Sandry's in the past few days, regaling her with tales of his days as a soldier in the war. How he went from soldier to tavern cook, Sandry had still yet to discover.

Hitching the tray up on her hip, Sandry waved to Kellen and continued serving.

A few hours later, the main room was emptying, customers off to their rooms or stumbling home. Yawning, Sandry went from table to table, collecting table scraps from the plates and dumping them in a wooden bucket. Once she was done with that, she hauled it out back to the pigpen and dumped it in the feed trough. The pigs woke from their slumber with a grunt and jostled each other for the closest spot, munching away. Sandry paused before going back in, leaning on the fence and looking up at the stars. Without meaning to, she found herself thinking about the family she had left behind. She missed them terribly (even Briar, she grudgingly admitted to herself) and wondered if they missed her at all. Sandry didn't regret her decision, no, this needed to be done, but she wondered if she'd ever see them again… Tris with her flashing temper, Daja with her good sense and patience, Briar with his wicked humor and startling green eyes, his teasing smile, soft black hair, strong arms… Sandry stood abruptly, breaking that line of thought, and blushed deep red. What on earth was she thinking! Briar was like a brother to her, right? He infuriated her, right? Right? Nobody answered her thoughts, which actually surprised Sandry, she was so used to holding conversations in her head with the others. Which led to her thinking of Briar all over again.

Sighing, Sandry slumped back on the fence and absentmindedly twirled a short lock of hair around her finger. Vaguely she wondered if she should start drinking whiskey, then pushed that out of her mind. She just needed sleep. And time to sort this out. That's it. In the morning, the thought of me and Briar… Sandry blushed… will seem silly.

Sandry pushed off the fence again and reached for her bucket. Suddenly a hand closed around her own. Rough and dirty, it jerked her forward and she fell against a man's chest. Alcohol clouded her senses as it was breathed onto her face and Sandry felt the need to gag. Looking up revealed the red bearded face of a drunk Ben had kicked out of the tavern last night.

"'ello there, pretty," he leered curving an arm around Sandry's waist. She stared at him waiting for some defensive instinct to kick in. It was clear of the man's intention's and the thought caused fear to rush through her, scattering her brain to the point that she couldn't react at all. "I saw ye last nigh', I did. Ye look like a girly who likes a bit o' fun." He gave a coughing laugh and pushed her against the wall of the building. One hand reached for laces of her dress as the drunk pressed his lips onto hers.

Sandry completely froze up.

He's going to rape me, she thought vaguely, and I can't do a thing about it. Sandry didn't even realize that she had started screaming.

A/N: sorry to leave it off with such a bad cliffie… I know im evil…well there was a bit of B/S in here, don't worry, there will be plenty of fluffy goodness in the future. remember I love reviews!