A/N: Here's a few definitions for words and phrases in this chapter:
dressing down-scolding
tizzy- a frenzy, a state of anxiety
part and parcel-an essential part of a job
drop of a hat-as soon as the slightest provocation is given
chit chat- small talk, basic conversation
rings you up-makes a purchase at the cash register-old fashioned models have a bell that rings when you open the cash drawer.
talk out of turn-gossip
hot brown sandwich-similar to a turkey club except it is served with a hot cream based sauce poured over it.
The day passed very slowly for Sansa, so eager was she to see Sandor again. She could hardly keep her mind on her work and barely heard the polite attempts at conversation that her customers made, leading to an exceptionally low number of tips in the jar by the register.
After the morning break, she resolved to improve her focus. I need to do better; it isn't right that both Margaery and Loras will earn less today simply because I have turned into a lovesick fool and can't control myself.
Once Sandor left the coffee shop, it took a few hours before Loras and Margaery resumed teasing her about being a lovesick puppy for the Hound. Whatever Sandor had said to them must have made an impression, for neither of them used vulgar language or meanness of tone in their joking when they started up again.
For a fleeting moment she wondered if she should apologize to them for Sandor's behavior, but since she was enjoying a respite from their endless goading as a result of him, Sansa decided she would not. In truth, Sansa knew they didn't mean anything by their mischievous ribbing but it annoyed her just the same. They were used to taunting each other in such a way, as siblings often do, but sometimes they took things too far in Sansa's opinion.
Though she was lost in thought, Sansa could feel Margaery and Loras watching her, but she didn't care. They didn't try to interrupt her musings, much to her surprise. They are just biding their time, she fumed silently. Instead of dealing with their questions, Sansa decided she would take inventory in the stock room and leave the floor to them.
Briefly Sansa tried to picture what it would be like to tease her brothers about the women they brought home in a similar manner to the way Loras and Margaery razzed each other. The thought brought a despondent, barely there smile to her lips, for there could not be two more different families than the Tyrells and the Starks, or what was left of the Starks, anyway.
Mrs. Olenna always spoke very frankly with her grandchildren on all subjects; however it seemed to Sansa that sex was foremost on her list. Perhaps it was because she knew they were both somewhat promiscuous, and in spite of her age, she neither condemned them for it nor did she pry. She did, however, make sure they were responsible.
Not long after she moved in to her apartment, Sansa overheard a conversation in which Olenna grilled Loras on his use of condoms and then gave Margaery a thorough dressing down for not regularly getting tested for sexually transmitted diseases.
Sansa had been so stunned she just about choked on her coffee, for she could not imagine having such a conversation with her own mother and father, let alone her grandparents. The more Sansa thought on it, though, she decided it was a healthy, if a bit unorthodox, attitude that the Tyrells had toward sex-perhaps far healthier than her own family's closed- mouthed behavior.
The Starks talking openly about sex? A more ridiculous idea Sansa could not conceive and she laughed out loud at the very idea. Aside from calling it her "wifely duty" Sansa's mother never mentioned sex, and her father, well, Sansa was certain he would have rather faced a firing squad than discuss such a thing with her.
Robb would have never spoken so crudely to her as Loras did Margaery, and the two younger boys were far too young for such talk. As for Jon, well, who knew, really? Certainly not Sansa, for she had avoided him when they were children. Since he had served in the National Guard for ten years along the border in Canada, she really had no idea what he was like as a grown man, and it shamed her to the core.
Sadly, her sister Arya would be better informed on the subject of Jon, but Sansa had not seen her in the years since she left Alaska either. Undoubtedly though, Arya would be far more open on the subject, just as she was in nearly all things.
She wished her sister and brothers lived close by now. The new onset of emotions and desires Sandor awakened in her left Sansa with many questions, not on the mechanics of sex (for she was studying to be a nurse, after all) but on the right time to advance the relationship.
How did people know when their relationships had matured enough to engage in such intimacies? With Joffrey, Sansa had never felt ready; with Sandor though, everything was different. Sansa had to admit that despite the relatively short amount of time they known one another, she held no such reservations with Sandor.
She inexplicably felt like they already knew each other far more intimately than she had ever known Joffrey. Certainly there was an tenderness there that was far beyond mere physical attraction; it was an invisible bond of sorts between them that seemed to irresistibly draw Sansa to him. Perhaps it was because Sandor did not hide his true nature from her, and she, in turn, did not feel the need to hide behind her courtesies with him. Sandor felt the same toward her, for in both speech and actions, he had already had proven a number of times that he could read her quite easily as well as anticipate her wants and needs.
As for the physical, Sandor seemed just as ready for it as she felt she was. Her mind kept wandering back to him and the way they woke up together: his Scottish brogue whispering into her ear had sent a pleasurable tingle through her with every word he spoke; his arms and chest felt strong and muscular around her waist, pulling her ever closer to him. And when Sandor touched and kissed her, he made her feel things she hadnever felt before.
She had seen (and felt) the evidence of his arousal as well as that of her own, and Sansa could not deny that in spite of her best intentions, she had developed an insatiable hunger for him that could only be quelled by taking their relationship to the next level.
During her musings, Sansa's mind also wandered into less pleasant areas of the relationship. Sandor's distracted manner, incredibly short temper in the coffee house, his desperate need to avoid crowds, and the frantic way he clung to her during the night all distressed her greatly.
As a second year nursing student, Sansa knew the signs of PTSD all too well, and there was no doubt that Sandor had been displaying them in abundance. Still, she knew she shouldn't try to diagnose him, a habit which many nursing students tended to develop, or form her entire analysis of Sandor's behavior based on the way he acted on his first day home from war.
Her inventory completed, Sansa knew she could not avoid Margaery and Loras any longer and so she made her way to the register once more. Most of the customers had already left, she was glad to see.
Turning to Margaery, she said quietly, "You and Loras should split the tips between you today. I have been so distracted I feel I haven't earned any of them."
Margaery raised her perfectly arched brow at her. "Far be it from me to turn down money, Sansa, but we can't let you do that."
"Please, I insist, I-"
"Sansa, let me finish. We were a bit over the line with you earlier. Why don't you just take the rest of the day off, then? You only have an hour left on your shift anyway and that will even things up. I'll brook no refusals."
"Y-yes I think I will at that. I needs think over a few things..."
Loras moved beside her. "That big serviceman really has you in a tizzy, doesn't he?"
Sansa laughed in spite of herself. "Yes, I suppose he does."
"Well come on, girl, let's talk about it." Loras sat her down and poured her a cup of coffee.
"This conversation requires lemon cakes." Margaery took three of the confections out of the bakery case and put them on a plate before her.
"And whiskey," Loras grinned, pulled out a flask from his pocket and poured its contents into their coffee cups. "Let's make these Irish, shall we? Now, tell us what's troubling you, Sansa. Don't make me winkle it out of you."
Sansa sighed and took a big gulp of her now "Irish" coffee. "It's just that…he…Sandor is really is having trouble with being home from the war. He's so nervous and edgy, and he has these nightmares…"
Loras and Margaery's eyebrows immediately arched in unison, their surprised faces mirroring one another. "Hmm, nightmares, eh?"
Blushing, Sansa shook her head. "It isn't like that. We fell asleep watching a movie and then later, he awakened me, shaking and pleading with me to stay with him. He didn't push me into doing anything more-he just wanted to hold me." She looked between them to see Margaery and Loras now wore matching expressions of understanding.
Shrugging, Loras sighed sadly. "Renly was like that when he would come home on leave. It seemed to get worse with each deployment as well."
Margaery nodded. "Osney was the same way. Always jittery, drinking heavily, willing to fight at the drop of a hat; it comes part and parcel with going to war, I'm afraid."
"What did you guys do about it?"
"There's not much that can be done, unfortunately," Loras spoke quietly. "Have you asked him if he wants to talk to someone? Maybe that woman he's friends with-what's her name, Margaery? Brianna? Brianne? Remember her, she was in love with Renly at one time. She didn't know he was gay. He liked her very much though, and said she was very loyal too."
"Brienne. Her name is Brienne Lannister." Margaery corrected. "She's married to Jaime Lannister now."
"Yes, she's the one. Tell Brienne about his behavior, Sansa. She can help, I'm sure of it. Sandor might be willing to talk to her, since she was a soldier too. You just have to be there for him, comfort him in any way you can," Loras held her hand. "And not just, you know, physically. Try to get him to talk to you about his experiences over there."
"But don't push him to talk if he doesn't want to," Margaery quickly added. "That just makes them clam up even more. I know Osney did. And you can hold him, you know, comfort him-without sex even, if you're not ready."
"How do you know when you're ready, though?" The words spilled out of Sansa and once she broke the ice she couldn't contain her curiosity. "I have so many feelings for him, even though I haven't really known him that long and-"
"Time alone does not determine intimacy, my dear girl," Loras laughed. "Haven't you seen the many married couples who barely speak to one another when they come in here?"
She nodded slowly.
"No, time isn't the only determining factor in closeness, especially with deployment looming over you-in fact, it speeds things up. At least, that's how it was for me and Renly. Besides, you've known him almost a year. He came in every day until he was deployed-didn't you think anything of it at the time?"
"Well, we did have some nice chit chat, but still I never thought he liked me. I just thought he was interested in getting to know me and-"
"Well, that's how you get to know one another!" Margaery rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Sansa, you need to read more Cosmo and less Martha Stewart Living," she thrust her copy of the magazine into Sansa hands. "Men don't spill their guts when they talk to us; they reveal little bits and pieces about themselves over a long period of time."
Sansa glanced down at the cover of the magazine. The headline screamed in bold lettering: How to Do All The Sex Positions From Fifty Shades of Grey!
"Oh, gross, Margaery!" Sansa slammed the magazine cover side down on the table, then glanced around to see if anyone saw her looking at it.
"Not that one, this one," Margaery turned to an article entitled, How Men and Women Communicate Differently. "It's got everything you need to know in it."
"Fuck, Margaery, can we just forget the Cosmo advice for a minute?" Loras jerked it out of her hands. "Sansa, honey, you don't need that. Now, listen to me: opening up slowly is a guy's way of letting you know their trust in you is growing. First we start off by confiding something small, like where we grew up if our parents are still alive and so forth. By the time we invite you over, we figure you know everything there is to know about us! Girl, the most important is to listen to your heart-what is it telling you?"
"That I love him," Sansa whispered automatically. "That I want to be with him always. That I would marry him tomorrow if he asked me, even though it is far too soon."
"Shut up!" Loras leaned in with his mouth agape. "Marry him? You want to marry him."
"Yes," Sansa whispered and then buried her burning face in her hands.
"Holy fuck-you're in love with him?!" Margaery jumped up out of her seat, drawing the attention of several customers. She cupped Sansa's face in her hands. "No way! Loras, our baby girl is in love!"
Sansa could not help the huge smile that spread across her face. "It's true, I am in love. I love Sandor." Just saying the words out loud felt so good to Sansa, as though by giving voice to her feelings a huge burden had been lifted from her shoulders.
"Oh baby girl, we just thought you wanted to fuck him, we didn't know you were in love with him!" Margaery threw her arms around Sansa, squeezing her close as she and Loras laughed happily along with her.
"This changes everything!" Loras teased, needling her in the side. "You best have Sandor come in for an interview so we can see whether or not he deserves our little dove."
Margaery shook her head. "No, Sansa, for the love of God, don't let him know you've told us that you love him before you tell him. It will cause a huge clusterfuck between the two of you, trust me. You have to make him believe that you have told him first or he'll feel betrayed-men are funny that way."
Loras frowned at her. "Why should he care? Sansa's a beautiful woman and kind, too. As a member of the male sex, I beg to differ, sis."
"Okay, then," Margaery rolled her eyes. "Straight men are funny that way. They don't like thinking their woman confided in someone else first."
"Alright, I'll give you that one," Loras grinned at her. "Sansa, you best not wait; tell him as soon as it feels right."
Sansa's mind began to race. "When would be the right time?"
"Tonight!" Loras and Margaery said in unison.
"We're going to dinner tonight, but afterward, I will have to go back to class-surely not tonight! I should ask him out on a more formal date, and then I'll get a new dress and have my hair and nails done, and-"
Margaery said, "Yeah, you better go ahead and wait-but not too long. Go to the salon and get the works done, Sweetie, and have them do some landscaping on your lady bits, too, if you know what I mean. You'll thank me later." Margaery winked at her, her implication causing Sansa to blush crimson. "I know I embarrass you, but I don't have a sister and I'm only telling you what I would tell her."
"For the love of God, Margaery, if Sandor is the kind of man who cares if there's a bit of grass growing on the field then he isn't mature enough to be with a woman as good as Sansa!" Turning to Sansa, he added, "Now seriously, find out his health situation, get protection and then have some fun!"
Margaery tittered excitedly. "From the looks of him, you're in for a good time!"
Blushing, Sansa lowered her eyes. She did want this with Sandor, there was no denying it, but still she wanted to wait for more of a commitment on his end before she slept with him. Still, she could not help but ask, "What kind of…c-condoms are best?"
Loras shook his head. "Darling, he's a grown ass man-he should have that situation handled. And if he doesn't, then you might think twice about sleeping with him, no matter how big and built he is." Loras reached into his wallet, pulled out a small purple package, discreetly placed it in Sansa's palm and then folded her hand into a fist afterward. "That being said, if you really want him anyway, get this brand, okay? They are thebest, trust me, and you can get them delivered to your door from Amazon. No embarrassing trips to the drug store complete with stuffy old Miss Mordane's glaring, judging-your-life-choices looks as she rings you up!"
Margaery nodded. "Trust Loras, he knows his stuff."
Blinking, Sansa could hardly believe what was happening. "Th-thank you," she barely managed to stammer out. She would much prefer to have such personal items sent to the house then face anyone at the drug store.
Loras arched his brow at her before giving her a devilish grin. "You're very welcome, though I must admit your blushing makes it a bit fun for me, too."
Rolling her eyes at Sansa's horrified expression, Margaery added, "Come now, stop that blushing, Sansa. We're all adults here. You're to be a nurse, for fuck's sake, so get over yourself!"
"You're right," Sansa heard herself admit weakly. "I do need to stop being so embarrassed about this sort of thing. I doubt I will ever be as straightforward as you two but I must learn to be more open, especially with Sandor. It's just that, well, if I had my mother to talk to as you do Mrs. Olenna-"
At her admission, Margaery softened at once and pulled Sansa into another warm embrace. "I know, Honey, I know, it's not the same as having your mother to confide in, but Loras and I can help if you let us. Our grandma thinks the world of you, and I know she would be more than happy to answer any of your questions if you think you would feel more comfortable with her. I know we tease you something awful but Loras and I both care for you very much. Everything you've told us will stay just between the three of us, we swear it."
Loras nodded emphatically. "You just have to have a bit of faith in us is all."
Deeply touched, Sansa felt her tears begin streaming down her cheeks. "Thank you both so much. I don't know anyone else to whom I could speak so freely about this."
Loras hugged her close. "You can always talk openly with us, and even though we talk a lot of shit, we would never talk out of turn about you."
"Gods, no! Not when it involves Sandor! Who knows what that man would do to us?!" Margaery added dramatically, causing all three to burst into laughter.
The bell chiming announcing another customer turned their attention back to work. To Sansa's surprise, it was Brienne, Sandor's friend.
"A Venti pumpkin pie spice latte, please," she softly spoke to Loras, averting her eyes from him. It seemed to Sansa the woman looked as though she would rather turn and run out of the building than talk to Loras. Curiously Sansa moved closer so she could hear what they were talking about.
"I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for your loss," Brienne fidgeted with her napkin. "Renly was a good man. Before I met Jaime, I cared for him deeply and I had hoped we could be more than friends; that is, before he came out. Forgive me, I didn't know about you at the time or I would never have…he had to keep it a secret. 'Don't ask, don't tell' and all that." Brienne looked so uncomfortable that for a moment Sansa was sure the woman would burst into tears.
"I know. Renly spoke of you often and thought highly of you, too." Loras sadly admitted as he placed his hand over hers. "And I thank you for your condolences. If Renly had been, you know, into women, he would have chosen you, I'm sure of it."
Brienne smiled, though her pain shone deeply in her eyes. "It's most kind of you to say so. I'm glad Renly had you, that he had love in his life."
"Thanks." Clearing his throat, Loras wiped his eyes on his apron and hurried about preparing her order.
Margaery leaned over and whispered, "Brienne and Sandor were with Renly when he was killed in Kandahar. It was their first deployment over there. In fact, they were the only ones to survive that firefight. Though she tried, Brienne could not save him from a suicide bomber, and poor thing, until today she could never bring herself to face Loras. She quit the military over it. He never blamed her, even though he can't bring himself to speak of Renly's death; I wish she could know that."
Sansa dabbed away the tears in her eyes. "That is so terrible. I never had the chance to meet Renly but everyone in town loved him, that much is obvious." It was true, there were many tributes, photos and memorials set up all over town for the affable young man.
"Oh, he was a character, always joking and laughing! He had a kind word for everyone, and he dressed beautifully, too, and he taught me how. He used to help me pluck my eyebrows and do my nails, too. He was a wonderful brother in law."
"They were married?"
"Yes, they had a private ceremony. Elder brother, the Buddhist monk who serves as a counselor on the base married them. The government wouldn't allow it then, you know, officially, but it didn't matter. Everyone knew they were married, and yet the military wouldn't even acknowledge Loras as Renly's spouse at the funeral," Margaery added sadly. "It was unthinkably cruel." She turned to Sansa. "Only Sandor acknowledged Loras. He presented him with the folded flag, even though it cost him rank and several more years of active duty."
Deeply touched, Sansa squeezed Margaery's arm. "I'm glad he did."
Margaery shushed her. "You best go over and talk to her before she leaves."
When Sansa noticed their private moment was over, she approached Brienne. "Brienne! What a pleasant surprise. I was just thinking of you."
Smiling broadly, Brienne turned toward her. "Truly? Do you have ESP or something, Sansa?"
"No," Sansa laughed, "Though you are the second person in town to ask me that. I was thinking I would very much like to have lunch with you. When are you free?"
Brienne shrugged. "We could go now, if you like. I don't have to get back to work until two."
"That's only fifteen minutes from now," Loras interrupted. "Why not stay here? I'll run out and get sandwiches and you two can eat them here." Before either woman could speak, the young man was out the door.
"That's okay with me," Sansa smiled. "What do you think?"
"Suits me just fine. I usually luncheon in my car." Brienne took a long sip of coffee. "So, tell me: how is Clegane doing since he returned home?"
Sighing heavily, Sansa shrugged. "I'm no expert but I can say with a certainty that he's not doing well."
Brienne nodded understandingly.
"He-he doesn't want to be in crowded places. He has terrible, frightening nightmares that he believes I can keep away from him. He seems quick to anger." When Brienne's eyes grew wide with alarm, Sansa clarified, "Not at me but with others, you understand."
"I do indeed," Brienne sighed heavily. "I've been there many times myself. He believes you will keep away the nightmares because he feels secure, comfortable, even cared for when he is with you. He would never admit it, but he thinks that love will keep him safe; I know I did."
"Oh I do care for him, so very much! Please, how can I help him?" Sansa reached out and placed her hand on Brienne's arm, her eyes filling with tears as she beseeched her. "I-I am afraid for him but I don't know what to do, or what he needs from me. Please, tell me what to do and I will do it. I'll do anything for him."
"Get him to talk if you can. Listen to him. Show him that you care," Brienne began. "Be patient. Beyond that, there isn't a whole lot you can do. Time heals some of it, but the rest, well, I'm afraid he needs to go back to counselling for PTSD." When Sansa's eyes widened, Brienne added, "You did know he had been in counselling, right?"
Sansa shook her head. "No."
"Oh please don't judge him for it," Brienne pursed her lips anxiously. "I've been to counselling, too. I still go. Sandor's a good man and a fierce soldier; after what he's been though-what we both have been through together-it was bound to happen to him, sooner or later."
Sansa squeezed Brienne's hands in her own. "I would never think less of anyone for reaching out and getting help. In fact, it relieves me to know he has taken this step before."
Visibly relieved, Brienne sighed deeply. "We both have seen Elder brother on the base for it. But I should not have broken confidentiality. Please don't tell him I told you."
"Oh, no, I won't," Sansa shook her head adamantly. "Nor will I pressure him for his confidence. Sandor should be allowed to tell me himself when he's ready. Frankly, I'm relieved you both have so much help available to you and that you take advantage of the resources offered by the Army."
"Yes, well, the Army is much better about treating PTSD than they used to be," Brienne admitted. "And it helps, the therapy sessions."
"Would the Army doctors and counsellors allow me to go with him to treatment?" Sansa asked cautiously. "I mean, just to support him?"
"Let me ask Elder brother." Brienne said after a moment. "I don't think you can come to group sessions but perhaps he will agree to see you in person."
Smiling, Sansa nodded eagerly. "I don't want Sandor to think I'm going behind his back but he needs help and I want to do all I can for him."
Brienne studied Sansa, narrowing her large blue eyes as she did so. Smiling, she then took her hand and patted it gently. "I can see that you care for him very deeply, Sansa, and I am glad of it."
Just then Loras bustled back into the coffee shop bearing hot brown sandwiches, cheese grits and two large chocolate cupcakes. "Here you are, ladies, compliments of the house."
"Thank you so much, Loras!" Sansa kissed his cheek, to which he blushingly turned away.
"Yes, thank you. I'm glad we got a chance to speak, too." Brienne added somewhat solemnly.
"Me, too." Loras offered her a smile before he headed into the back to join Margaery.
Sansa and Brienne spent the rest of their limited time together eating, laughing, and talking about their funniest experiences on their respective jobs. Before Sansa knew it, the fifteen minutes was up.
Brienne heartily embraced her before leaving. "Let's do this again next week."
"Oh, yes, I would like that very much," Sansa beamed at her. "Aside from Sandor and those two, I haven't really made any friends here."
"Well, you have one in me, Sansa Stark. You're as honest as they come and kind, too. If you ever need help with Clegane, call me, day or night." She pressed her business card into Sansa's hand. "We'll keep it between us. Goodbye." Brienne waved as she made her way down the street.