A/N - So I think I made a little continuity mistake in the story. I don't think I ever specifically wrote a scene where Arya told Gendry that Jon was her brother, but in my mind, when Arya revealed the rest of her family drama to Gendry, she also told him about Jon. SO let's just pretend that I didn't eff up, and from this point forward, just assume to Gendry knows about everyone in Arya's family. Okay thanks! And also sorry it took me so long to update! And sorry this author's note is kind of long! And also you guys are great!

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Gendry asks. They're sitting in Arya's car, speeding down open roads towards Cajon Cross.

"Of course it's a good idea," Arya responds.

"But what if you lose?"

"I won't lose."

"But what if you win?"

"Well that's sort of the point, isn't it? To beat Joffrey in a race?"

"But won't that piss him off?"

Arya bites the bottom of her lip. Gendry knows about her family, and he knows how much they hate the Baratheons, but he doesn't know that Sansa is planning to sabotage the entire family, including Gendry's father. Even though Gendry hates Robert, Arya isn't sure if it's a good idea to tell Gendry that Sansa's doing everything in her power to land Robert Baratheon and his son in jail or at least bankrupt their company.

He'd probably just want to help, Arya thinks. He hates his father, and he hates what his father did to his mother, but still, I probably shouldn't risk it. At least not without talking to Sansa first.

"Of course it'll piss him off," Arya responds, choosing not to tell Gendry that pissing him off is the purpose of the whole race. "I'm not scared of him."

"Yeah, but what if he doesn't let you race again?"

Arya shrugs her shoulders. "I'll call him a coward and make sure the entire circuit knows that he's scared of a girl."

"That will just make things worse."

"I'll figure it out, Gendry. Stop worrying so much."

"I only worry because you don't. Someone has to look out for you."

"I can look out for myself."

Gendry raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure? Because you seem to lack any sense of self-preservation. In fact, you just ran a red light at sixty miles an hour without blinking an eye. What if a car was coming from the other direction? What if there's a camera at the light and you just got ticketed?"

"There wasn't a car coming from the other direction. I looked. Try using your eyes for something besides traffic lights, and you'll be a much better driver. As for tickets, there is a camera at that intersection, but yesterday, I noticed that someone spray painted the screen black, and they still haven't fixed it."

"Fine. All right. You're smarter than you look."

"Smarter than I look? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Smarter than you act. Smarter than you look. Same thing. My point is that you could be a little more careful considering that you spend your time with dangerous people and participate in a dangerous sport."

Arya starts to open her mouth, but Gendry cuts her off. "And don't you dare say that racing isn't a dangerous sport because I seem to remember finding you bleeding in my garage about a week ago."

That was exactly what Arya was about to say, so when she finally responds, all she can mutter is, "Fine. We're almost there anyways, so let's just drop it."

Gendry smirks and leans back in his seat, crossing his strong arms over his chest. "You just want to drop it because I won the argument."

"No. I just want to drop it because if you keep talking I'm going to punch you in the face."

Gendry is about to respond when, in the distance, a car appears. There are two figures standing outside of it. "Looks like they're already here. Do you know who Joffrey's witness is?"

"Not sure. Maybe Sansa or Sandor." Arya hopes that it isn't her sister. Distracting Joffrey tonight won't prove very useful if Joffrey just drags Sansa along with him.

"Congratulations by the way," Gendry says sarcastically and with a bitter tone, "On Sansa's upcoming wedding."

Arya snaps her head towards Gendry. "How'd you hear about that?"

Gendry narrows his eyes, as if trying to read Arya's expression. "People on the circuit talk," he says slowly. "If you listen, you'll hear some interesting things. It was a bit of a shock to hear it from a stranger instead of you though."

"I didn't think you'd care."

Gendry's eyes flicker. "Of course I'd care. That has to be- really rough for you, upsetting. I want you to share things like that with me."

"I think I've shared enough with you."

"You share facts, not feelings, Arya. You tell me your father was fired, but you don't tell me how that makes you feel. You tell me that Joffrey is blackmailing your sister, but you don't show me your reaction to it. You keep holding me at this distance, and I don't understand why."

The car suddenly feels very small, and as Arya drives closer and closer to Joffrey and his guest, she can feel the walls closing in around her. She cracks her window to let the night breeze inside. "I don't know what you're talking about Gendry. We've only known each other for a couple of weeks now. You can't expect me to share every tiny little detail of my life with you."

"Yes because your sister being blackmailed into marriage is a tiny little detail."

"Just stop it, okay?" Arya snaps. She pulls the car to a stop. "You keep pushing and pushing. I said I'd let you into my life, but that doesn't make every part of my life your business."

Gendry leans over. His blue eyes lock onto Arya's, and her breath catches in her throat. She hates it when he stares at her like this. Like he can see everything she's thinking. "You're hiding something from me, aren't you?" Gendry asks.

"What are you talking about?"

"You wouldn't be so defensive if you weren't hiding something."

"I'm not-" Arya steadies her voice. "Fine. Maybe I am hiding something. So what?"

Hurt passes through Gendry's gaze. "You don't trust me."

It's a statement, not a question.

Arya wants to say, of course I trust you or you've become one of the most important people in my life or why would you think that?

She wants to say so many things. She wants to ease Gendry's suspicions. She wants to curl her fingers along the nape of his neck and gently kiss his soft lips. She wants to turn the car around, take Gendry with her, and drive far, far away from the Baratheons and the circuit and her family. She wants to leave it all behind and just be free.

But she can't. Because as much as she craves freedom, she knows she has to protect her family. It's her duty.

So Arya responds, "No. I don't trust you." Gendry flinches away from her; his eyes are a mask. Fuck, Arya thinks. Why didn't I just lie? She quickly tries to soften her harsh response."I don't trust anyone Gendry, not entirely. I- I want to trust you, but we barely know each other, and-"

"That's bullshit."

"What?"

"That's bullshit. Don't say we barely know each other. You know more about my family than people who have known me for years. And I bet you anything that I'm one of the only people in the world who knows about your family. Don't you dare say we don't know each other."

"The point remains that we've only been friends or whatever you want to call us for less than a month. That's hardly enough time to build trust."

Gendry turns back towards Arya. His voice is low, and his eyes are cold. "You don't know what trust is."

The words hit hard. It's true. Arya has never been able to trust anyone, even her family. If her own mother could abandon her son, than how could Arya ever truly trust her for anything? The back of Arya's throat feels swollen, scratchy, and there's a pressure behind her eyes.

Trust no one but yourself.

The advice was scrawled on Jon's final note to Arya before he left home, the note that sat on the seat of his old racing car. It's advice that she has stood by every day, and it's gotten her this far, but will it get her further?

She glances at Gendry. He's staring out the window, sharp jaw set rigidly, hands furled into tight fists. He cares about you, Arya tells herself, probably more than any other man will for the rest of your life. And he hasn't betrayed you once. You've told him your secrets, at least some of them, and he's kept them. He's only supported you while you've bullied him and hurt him again and again. Is it really so wrong to trust him?

She takes a short, shaky breath and tries to speak. At first her voice falters, but when she tries again, the words are soft and steady. "Gendry, look at me." Blue eyes flash to hers. "You're right. I don't know what trust is, but, maybe I can learn."

There's a long pause before Gendry answers. Outside, Arya can see Joffrey pacing with impatience. "Maybe you can." He sighs heavily. "Come on, it's time to race."

Before Arya has a chance to respond, Gendry opens the car door and walks outside. She watches as Joffrey offers Gendry his hand. Gendry hesitates before shaking it. His face is blank, but Arya can see the disdain in his eyes.

Arya bites her lip and tugs down her cap. At least she's getting used to driving with it. She knows her conversation with Gendry isn't finished, but at least they managed to avoid a huge fight. The last thing she needs to be thinking about while racing is the state of her romantic life.

"Cat, so happy you could finally join us," Joffrey says as Arya gets out of the car. "I believe you haven't had the honor of meeting my uncle yet."

"You're uncle?" And that's when Arya notices that there is an extremely short man standing next to Joffrey. He barely reaches Joffrey's waist. He has a rather large head and mismatched eyes.

"Tyrion," the dwarf says, extending a small hand. Of course, Arya thinks, Robert's brother-in-law. They always kept him out of the Christmas cards.

Arya leans over to shake his hand, and she swears that Tyrion locks eyes with her. A hat isn't of much use when someone half her height is standing beneath her. "Cat," she responds.

Tyrion grins, and his eyes seem to sparkle with mischief. "Cat of El Cajon. I've heard so much about you. Quite the mystery. The legend. Who's the girl beneath the cap?"

"I like to remain anonymous."

"That's smart thinking. I like smart thinking. What's the point of having a brain if it never gets used? Perhaps Joffrey can enlighten us."

"Enough, uncle. I didn't ask you here to insult me."

"No, you asked me here because your blushing bride was busy, your racer was drunk, and my dear brother Jaime and my dear sister Cersei choose to turn the other eye to your illegal pastime." Tyrion claps his hands and rubs them together. "Now, shall we get on with it? Midnight is dangerously close to my bedtime. I may be a short man, but I'm not a young one anymore, and there's a stack of books I'd like to bite into before the sun starts to rise."

Joffrey's voice drips with annoyance. "If you're bored uncle, I assure you that I can find someone else to witness."

Tyrion waves him off. "No, no, I'd rather like to see this Cat girl race you. You get so mad when you lose. It's very amusing."

"What makes you think I'll lose?"

"Have you seen the girl race? She's more comfortable in a car than you are in a bathtub of money. You don't have a chance against her."

"I haven't seen you at the track before," Arya says.

Tyrion smiles. "I tend to blend in and disappear quite easily. There are a few advantages to my stature."

"Right. I guess that makes sense."

"So. Shall we get started? Gendry, I assume you and I will just come stand over here, and Arya and Joffrey will do the rest."

"Wait!" Joffrey says. "There's one more matter to be settled."

"And what's that?" Arya asks.

"We can't race without a bet, can we? No, of course not."

Arya chews her lip. She doesn't want to admit her financial problems to Joffrey, but the fact is that she doesn't have any money to bet. Her new job will barely cover food and rent as it is. "I don't have a lot of spare money to throw around," Arya says. "Some of us weren't born into trust funds."

"That's all right. If you win, I'll pay you $3,000."

$3,000?

Arya can't believe it. That'll be enough to cover her for months. There has to be a catch.

"What about if you win? Not that it's likely," she responds.

"That's simple. If I win, I get your car."

Arya's stomach drops. Of course. She walked right into that one, didn't she?

"My car?"

"Yes." Joffrey smirks. He knows he's backed her into a corner. "Is that a problem?"

She can't bet her car. What if she loses? She'll have to go home or cook burritos for the rest of her life. But she can't admit that to Joffrey. She can't let him think that she's weak. Besides, she'll win. Of course she'll win.

Right?

"Fine," she responds. She extends her hand. "It's a deal."

The rules for the race are simple. Drive all the way down one length of Cajon Cross, flip your car around, and head back the same way. The start line is the finish line.

It'll be a piece of cake, Arya tells herself as she grips the steering wheel. You've driven this road hundreds of times now. It'll be fine.

She looks at Joffrey, and she notices that his jaw is rigid and his hands are shaking slightly. He's a nervous racer. She smiles.

Tyrion waits for the signal, and they both nod to say they're ready, and then he blows the whistle. Arya bursts forward, gaining at least a half-second on Joffrey with her fast start, but as she shifts gears and increases her speed, she notices that Joffrey is gaining ground behind her. His car gets nearer and nearer until he slides by and rushes ahead of her.

"Dammit!" She screams, wondering how much money Joffrey has put into his car over the years. His engine probably costs ten times as much as hers. How can she beat him when her car just isn't as fast?

It won't be your car if you lose this race, she reminds herself.

She continues to shift her car, and it starts to rattle under the pressure. She's never had to drive this fast except for the last few seconds of a race, and yet, it's still not as fast as Joffrey's car.

Arya bites her lip, trying to think of how she could make up for his speed. The road is a straight shot. It's doubtful that he'll mess up somewhere, and there are no other racers to distract him.

The turn! She thinks. There's no way he can handle his car like I can handle mine, and he'll have to slow down to cut the turn without overthrowing his car.

Usually when Arya has to make a full flip in a race, she cuts her speed by about half. Any faster than that and she runs the risk of toppling her car over.

I guess I'll have to play things risky, Arya thinks. In the back of her head, she thinks of Gendry's self-preservation comment from earlier. Maybe he's right. Maybe I am an idiot. But I have to win this race.

Just as Arya predicted, as Joffrey nears the turn, he slams his breaks and almost entirely loses his speed. Arya rushes towards him, refusing to slow down. She gets closer and closer to his car, eyeing the exact radius she'll need to turn around. It'll be a close fit to keep from hitting Joffrey.

She grips her wheel tightly, takes a short breath and yanks her steering wheel to the left. Her car lifts dangerously off the ground, tipping backwards, more and more, but Arya manages to maintain control. Out of the corner of the eye, she notices that Joffrey is still turning behind her. If she can land this, she'll be in the lead by a few car lengths.

"Come on," she whispers. "Do it. Come on."

Her tires screech on the ground, hot rubber burning up beneath her. And when her car lands fully back onto the road, it crashes down with such ferocity that Arya's neck whips back, and a sharp pain shoots through her head.

"Ignore it," she says, her foot slamming down on the accelerator.

She glances in her rearview mirror, and sure enough, Joffrey is now seconds behind her. The question is whether or not it's a big enough lead to see her through the end. Her car is racing down the road at its top speed. At this point, it's a game of chance. Will Joffrey catch up to her? Or will the race be over before then?

The finish line is approaching, and Arya stills her breath in anxiety. Joffrey is getting closer and closer. She can see him on her tail and then inching along the side of her car.

"Come on, come on, come on."

Closer.

Just a little more.

Almost.

"Yes!" She pitches across the finish line half a second before Joffrey does. Even though it's a close match, the results show a clear defeat. She did it.

She gets out of her car and Gendry strides up to her, smiling widely. Arya's first instinct is to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him, but she stops herself, knowing it would peak Joffrey's curiosity a bit too much. She'll have to celebrate her victory with Gendry later tonight.

"Congratulations," Tyrion says. He's smiling, and again, Arya gets the feeling that he knows more than he should.

"Thank you," Arya responds. She turns towards Joffrey. "I wish we had bet car for car. If I had something that ran that fast, I'd never lose a race again."

Joffrey is fuming. She can she his cheeks flushing in anger. "I'll wire the money to your account," he says coldly.

"No you won't. I don't have an account." Or I do, and I'm just not going to give you access to it. Or my fucking name.

"You'll give it to me in cash. Tomorrow. Meet me at Gendry's garage at noon."

Joffrey narrows his eyes. "Don't think you can tell me what to do just because you won the race."

"A bet is a bet. I expect the money by tomorrow."

"And you'll get it." Joffrey crosses his arms. "I always pay my debts."

A/N – Sorry for the cheesiness that is that final line, but I had to put it in there. It just fit too nicely. Sorry that it took me so long to update! This is what happens when I'm back in school.

What did you guys think of Tyrion? GRRM just writes him so well, and I feel like I can't make him half as good, but maybe points for effort?

Also, sorry there hasn't been a ton of Arya x Gendry interaction lately, but like I warned in the beginning, this is a slow burn, so I can only devote so much time to romance and keep the story moving. But I promise some fun time in the next chapter or two.

On that note- I think next chapter is going to be San x San.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!