Disclaimer: I own nothing, just loving my couch creation time!

Note: This chapter is a short one, I just need to progress the story to its climax. Though I can promise you the next chapter is the sex chapter WHOOOOOT! :-) I know it's giving something away, but I think it was pretty obvious where this story would go between the two characters. Thanks for reading and please don't forget to leave a comment or show your appreciation with a fave or a follow. Cheers!

Chapter 5: Revenge is a Bitch

Two things were immediately obvious when Sandor Clegane opened his eyes, that it was dark and that he did not know where the fuck he was. He inhaled deeply allowing time for his eyes to adjust and to get his bearings on the situation. Slowly the smell of synthetic cucumber entered his nostrils, the weight of another person became more noticeable on his body and a headache like no other tore through his skull.

"Fuck." Was the only fitting word he could think of to describe the situation.

His deep revelation prompted a stirr from the person next to him. A yawn escaped her mouth and she stretched, leaving warm patches across his bare legs.

"Sandor, is everything ok?" She was whispering, though he wasn't exactly sure why. Her hand was on his chest and her sexy little body dangerously bunched up against his.

He sat up quickly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and putting his head in his hands. He was in pain, but needed to keep in under control in front of her. A light clicked on behind him, bringing the room and a rather large morning wood into focus. Sandor quickly threw a blanket over himself before Sansa slid over to him, on her knees on the mattress beside him.

'Well I couldn't have been injured too badly.' he thought to himself. But he couldn't remember certain parts of the evening.

"Just tell me what the fuck happened." His head was pounding, he was in no mood for chit chat.

"Ok." She began rubbing his back with one of her hands, "You...uh...took a tire iron in the head for me."

The Hound shook his head in disgust, he should have expected the little prick to not play fair. Memories of the night came flooding back to him.

"It's probably about the sweetest thing any man has ever done for me." She said with an uneasy chuckle.

"What kind of men have you been dating?" He asked, finally turning his head to face her. She smiled faintly, indicating she felt the same then looked away.

She continued, trying quickly to change the subject, "You were quite a professional out there. No one had ever seen anything quite like it. You have quite a fan club now as it seems, fighting against Baratheon supremacy and all that."

Sandor wondered if she was prying for something more. Either way he was in no mood to answer any questions, no now and not ever. Baratheon though, 'The last name of that blonde headed little prick?'

It was clear that she wasn't going to get anything more out of him, "Look it's 4am. I've got to work in the morning. How about you make your way over to the shop if you feel well enough? You're not getting out of your promise." She smiled.

The Hound nodded slightly, not wanting to jar his head more than he needed.

"Oh and uh…" she started.

"Don't." Sandor said simply. "There's no need."

She was confused but didn't challenge his request. Of all things he deserved a 'Thank You.' Sansa nodded, and crawled back to her side of the bed.

A hard swallow went through Sandor's throat as he caught a glimpse of that great ass of hers moving to the other side of the bed. The gods were either torturing him or rewarding him, which he couldn't be exactly sure. He waited until she turned out the light again, before laying down next to her. It wasn't like his erection had gotten any smaller in the meantime, no need complicating the night any further.

'Joffrey Baratheon.' He repeated to himself. 'Shouldn't be too difficult to find out where he lives. Even less difficult to teach him a lesson before heading into the shop.'

Sandor pondered what that could be as his half sleepy host cozied up to him. He'd never spent a night in a bed with a woman he hadn't fucked before. Rarely even stayed the night when they did fuck.

'Oh to hell with it.' He lifted up his left arm and scooped her in between his body and his arm, her bum warm against his thigh.

He was getting soft staying here, soft and comfortable. Two things that didn't serve him well. He would have to leave, it was inevitable. Not because he wanted to but because he wanted her to be safe. He knew Gregor would stop at nothing to get his money back, and to silence him if he had to. Him and everybody around him.

'Revenge is a bitch.' he declared to himself as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

It was almost 11am when a familiar car pulled up to the shop. Sansa didn't even need to turn away from the radiator she was repairing to know it was Arya. She grabbed a cloth from her pocket and wiped off her hands, it wasn't like Arya to come around for a chat at the shop.

'Must be official business.' Sansa thought.

When Arya got close enough Sansa greeted her, "Hey stranger! It's been a few days."

Her sister smiled, but it was only half a smile. A clear sign the little woman was stressed, busy and not in the mood for pleasantries. "We gotta talk about that dog of yours."

"You mean Lady?" Sansa offered, being facetious of course.

"Nope. I mean Ugly." Arya corrected, not getting the joke. "Where's his bike? I need to run his license plate."

"Don't you need a warrant for that kind of thing?" Sansa asked, affronted by the bruskness of her sister.

"Nope. Now which one is it?" The brunette looked around the shop, knowing it almost as well as her sister. "Oh well that was predictable." She walked over to the only bike in the shop.

Sansa threw her sister a questioning look.

"That he'd have a bike like that and that he's from Texas." Araya answered, writing down the license plate on a notepad.

"Could you tell me what in the seven hells is going on here?" Sansa's voice got higher.

"Your man is a dangerous man that's what this is about." There was a fear in Arya's eyes. "I'm sure Tormund told you about the trouble we were having down south? That man can never keep his mouth shut about those things."

Sansa nodded.

"Well, seems like there are some unsightly characters looking for somebody. Somebody matching the description of your disfigured man friend." Arya waited, judging Sansa's expression of disbelief before continuing. "I don't know what he did, and I don't give a fuck."

"He hasn't done anything. He's been with me the whole time." Sansa said, defensive.

"He hasn't done anything in my jurisdiction, but that doesn't mean he hasn't been racking up some kind of a record somewhere else. You don't want to cross those men Sansa. You best get that man out of your house and out of this town."

"Why do you have to do this? Every guy I kind of like you have to go and do this!"

"Do what?"

"This!" Sansa yelled.

It was the sound of throat clearing that made the girls turn their heads. They didn't know how long Sandor had been standing there and what he had heard, just that he finally decided it was time he be seen.

"Speak of the devil." Aray said, walking toward him. "Have anything you want to tell me?" Arya asked him, approaching the much larger man without fear.

"Who are you again?" Sandor asked, in faux confusion. "Head injury you know, hard to remember shit."

"I bet it is." Arya spat, sneering at her opponent. Then her radio started up, "Arya 2121, there's a call of multiple fires at the Baratheon Ranch. Do you copy?"

She never took her eyes off of Sandor, "Yeah I copy. Be there in a sec." She narrowed her eyes at the big man.

"Well if you want to get something off your chest, anything at all, come by." Arya gave him one final glare before turning on her heel and leaving.

The Hound just grinned, waiting for her to leave. He turned his gaze to Sansa, who had her arms crossed in front of her, standing with her hip jutted out.

"So now you're mad at me?"

"I'm just confused." Sansa was unsure about how to broach the subject. "Are you running from something Sandor?" She came up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Just passing through." He said, attempting to quell the anger inside of him. He didn't care if the little Sheriff hated him. It was much more difficult to live with the look that Sansa's face now had. It was a mixture of disappointment and sadness.

The next two days passed in a similar fashion, a kind of professional kindness that ripped Sandor up. He hated to admit it, but it did. It was like there was some kind of distrust that had been planted between them, a wall that would be almost impossible to overcome. The only good thing that had come out of the last few days, was that the parts for his bike had come in. He'd be on his way soon, and all this would be a distant, distant memory.

"I'm headed to the store, do you need something?" came Sansa's voice from the other room.

"No, I'm ok." He answered, not wanting to burden her anymore than he already had.

Sandor went back to what he was doing, clearing some heavy parts from a store room. All the work he was doing were things she could surly do, but it would have taken her much more time and ingenuity. Some of these car parts weighed well over 50 lbs and they needed a big person to move them.

He was in the middle of moving one such part when he heard some big heavy pairs of footsteps coming his way.

"Wait in the office, no customers allowed in the shop." He said, not looking back to see who it was. The steps continued.

"I said, go wait in the office…" he finally turned and his intruders and got that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Well well brother, we've been looking for you all over." It was a voice he knew only too well, the voice of his brother Gregor.

Sandor needed to walk his brother out of here before Sansa came back, if there was one thing he could do, it would be to save her from any sort of misfortune. That was why the adrenaline rushed through him, why the fear set in. "Congratulations, it took you long enough."

The two men on either side of Gregor crossed their arms and shot him angry looks. Gregor always had goons, always had extra muscle to back him up.

"I had a little help." Gregor said. Seems you haven't made very many friends in your short time here."

'Fucking Joffrey Baratheon' Sandor cursed to himself.

"You owe me some money brother, with interest of course."

"I bought myself out so to say. Can't abide by that business Gregor." Sandor moved toward his brother slightly, trying to figure out how he could get them out of the shop.

"You don't have a choice." Gregor said, narrowing his eyes at his brother, "You either get on board or you get dead."

The sound of a shotgun getting pumped turned everybody's attention from themselves to the left. Where Sansa stood, red hair flowing, a double-barreled shotgun pointed square at Gregor.

The mountain of a man chuckled, "Well well, what do we have here Sandor?"

Sandor shook his head, not thrilled that his brother had caught wind of his 'crush'. The last girl he'd had, Gregor had raped. He'd raped her and then had her disappear, Sandor never knew exactly what had happened. Though he had his suspicions.

"I think she'd look better on my cock than yours." Gregor continued, taking a few steps toward Sansa.

Sansa lowered the shotgun toward Gregor's crotch, "Even with a target that small I'm not gonna miss. Now leave!"

The giant man nodded, giving her a smirk and went back to his brother, "Anywhere you go I'll find you Sandor."

Gregor snapped his fingers, taking the goons with him out the front door. Sansa followed them with her shotgun, until she heard the ignition of their truck turn and the tires spin.

Sandor turned to her, "Sansa I…"

"Nope." She answered, turning the shotgun to him. "No more bullshit, you tell me what's going on here and you tell me now."

He admired her fire, loved the way she looked when she was angry. He'd have to come clean now, he'd have to tell her everything - to protect her. If they were lucky they could run, they could pack up and leave, keeping Gregor guessing...they could be free.

"I'll tell you everything if you put the gun down and we sit down in the house."

She raised an eyebrow in apprehension.

"It's a long story." He sighed, running his fingers through his long hair.

Sansa nodded, putting the gun to her side and following him out back to her home, curious as to what she just saw and how everything she knew would fit together.