"You are going to roast if you stay in the sun one more minute."

"Shut up."

"You are going to get skin cancer," he insisted.

"No, I won't," she protested.

"Yes, you will."

Sansa opened her eyes and glared at Sandor. He was leaning against the frame of the French windows that led to the back garden and the pool of the mansion, and he was observing her from behind his dark glasses. Even though Sansa couldn't see his grey eyes behind the black crystal, she could sense his knowing look, and when he raised an eyebrow she scoffed, pretending to be offended. However, mere seconds later a soft smile pulled her lips into a flirty curve.

"Maybe if you brought me a parasol, like I've been asking you to do for the past five days..."

"I think I'll pass. Instead, you could leave that damn deck chair and come inside the house!"

"I don't know if you have noticed, Sandor, but it is summer. It's not going to be summer forever, and once I'm back in the capital I won't see another little bit of sunlight in weeks. Now, if you don't mind..."

"When did you become so bossy, Miss Stark?" Sandor joked, watching as Sansa adopted a more comfortable position on the deck chair that had become her favorite spot in the backyard, and reached out to take her sunglasses and her iPod from the small round table at her side.

Sansa turned her head to look at him again, and winked playfully before putting her big and fashionable sunglasses on.

"Maybe I've always been, Mr Clegane," she said before letting her head rest on the deck chair and plugging her earphones in. The music that she was listening to, some modern pop song, could be heard from where Sandor was standing.

He stayed there, leaning on the frame of the French windows, watching Sansa while she sunbathed and listened to her music, quietly humming the lyrics and moving her body a bit to the rhythm of the song. He admired her beautiful and perfect body, which had been of a creamy pale color when they arrived at Sapphire Isle and now had turned into a light golden color beneath the sun. A tan line could be appreciated on her hips, where some of her bikinis covered her and this the skin had not been as exposed at the rest of her. She was definitely a different girl than the one that had left King's Landing a week ago; not just physically, but emotionally Sansa was much healthier in that place. She had been livelier than in the capital the first day that they had arrived there, yes. While back with her fiancé she had been quiet and shy and did as she was told and always stood in the background, constantly afraid, in Sapphire Isle she had instantly become a fun and sweet and smiling person. But now, since the first night that she and Sandor had spent together, she seemed like there was a sun in her core, and she radiated light from every pore in her body.

Sandor hadn't slept a single night in his own bed; he had officially found his place next to Sansa every night for as long as they got to stay on that mansion alone. In that past week, Sandor had given Sansa everything that she wanted, whenever she wanted it. Some of those nights, Sansa had sought out his body. She hadn't directly jumped on him like the first night (which had been something incredibly unexpected of her), but instead she had shyly and innocently kissed him and gotten a little closer to him, until he got the silent message. Not that it took him long to get the message. As soon as Sansa's lips touched his own and her body was slightly pressed into his, he always felt his blood go up and his cock ache for her. His entire body and would craved her, hungered for her body and went thirsty for the entirety of her being.

Other nights, like last night, Sansa had only needed his company, and he had gladly given it to her. She was a lonely girl, and had lacked love and affection for a long time while she was locked up in the Red Keep, away from her family and those she loved, afraid that anything might happen to them if she didn't keep her fiancé happy and didn't do as she was told. Sandor had held her in his strong arms in a protective way, and he hadn't let go of her for a single second until the sun rose up in the morning and they both woke up. Sansa had fallen asleep with her leg tangled with his, and her small and delicate body had been curled up against his muscular one. She had placed her ear right above his chest and she had fallen asleep listening to the steady beat of his heart, which was better than any lullaby ever heard in the entire world. Sandor had stayed awake longer than her, feeling her relaxing in his arms. He had stared at the darkness while he smelled the sweet scent of her beautiful and soft hair and felt the softness of her skin against his body. It was paradise, and he still couldn't figure out what he had done to deserve it. Neither could he figure out why anyone would like to hurt that beautiful, sweet, pure and defenseless creature, why anyone would want to mistreat her and abuse her. Well, he did know: the world was shut, and was full of even bigger shit. And though there was little that he could do, at least he could make a few of Sansa's moments in that terrible life of hers feel happy.

He knew he had succeeded because, as soon as his grey eyes got accustomed to the darkness and he could see Sansa almost perfectly in the darkness of her bedroom, asleep in his arms, he saw her lips pulled into a happy smile. That made him happy too. Nothing had been able to make him happy before, not in a long time.

Not until she appeared in his life like a hurricane, turning everything upside down.

Life before Sansa had not been happy, but it had been simple. Sandor had a routine, he had a set of rules that were always the same. He was a fighter, he was a servant, he was a bodyguard. He had protected Joffrey Baratheon since the douche was a bawling pompous puff ball of golden hair. He knew that all he had to do every day was protect his boss, and that was it. There was nothing else. Nothing was right or wrong, because it didn't matter. Sandor didn't care about anything or how things were done, he only had to care about his job. But shortly after he had met Sansa, everything started to change. Sandor had started questioning things that he should or not should be doing, and even though he had just unconsciously thought about them, those thoughts were becoming stronger. He now didn't just dislike Joffrey. He truly despised him.

It went against Sandor's instincts as the best bodyguard in Westeros, but he knew that he should have fucking let Joffrey be killed the other day.

Sandor had kept his promise of spending the whole time with Sansa while they were in Sapphire Isle. He always had breakfast, lunch and dinner with her. He spent the sunny hours of the day in the pool with her, sometimes joining her in the water and foolishly playing with her like a stupid teenager, and sometimes he just sat at her side in the backyard. In the evening they watched some TV together, even though they fought about what channel to put. They had come to the agreement that they would take turns each day, and last night had been Sansa's turn: she had made Sandor watch a movie called "French Kiss." Sandor didn't complain much about the movie, because after it had had its happy ending and Sansa had shed a couple of happy tears, they had continued their evening with intense kissing.

At that moment, Sansa was laying by herself on the deck chair and Sandor was standing several feet away from her, fully dressed in his black bodyguard suit and looking all professional, because the cleaning service had arrived that day. Joffrey had hired some servants and maids and cooks to take care of the mansion while no one occupied it, and now that Sandor and Sansa were staying there they had come to clean up after them and prepare some food for the next days. Sandor had made sure to mess up his almost unused bedroom so that it seemed that he had been sleeping there. The staff hired by Joffrey would only be there some hours, but it felt like an eternity to Sandor. He couldn't wait for them to be gone and finally be able to jump over his little bird and attack her with passionate kisses all over her gorgeous body.

In order to not raise suspicion among the staff by following Sansa around the whole day like a lost puppy, Sandor occupied himself with some stuff during the first hours that they were there. The first thing he did was go to the security room, where all the monitors for the surveillance cameras and the tapes were located, and he took a look around. He should have done that the first day they were there, but he totally forgot.

As he had mentioned to Sansa some days ago, there were only two surveillance cameras in that mansion; one in the front gate, and one in the back gate that led to the backyard from outside. If he spoke the truth, that was one of the reasons why Sandor had chosen that mansion out if all the others that Joffrey possessed: the security was shit. Which meant less control on Sansa and her movements, and more privacy and chances to relax and enjoy for her. Sandor wasn't worried about the lack of security; he himself was enough security, and besides, Sapphire Isle was incredibly underpopulated. There was a town a couple miles away for where they were, and it was almost tiny. The biggest towns were in the other side of the island, mainly occupied by tourists. Sansa was perfectly fine in that mansion with Sandor, but he wanted to check the surveillance cameras to see if they had accidentally caught any of their... extra activities.

He was relieved when he saw that there was no way that the front gate camera had caught anything about them, other than the fact that they walked inside the mansion together when they arrived the first day. When he turned his attention to the monitor for the other camera, the one in the back gate, he found that, much to his surprise, the camera wasn't working. All that could be seen were black and white stripes. Sandor frowned and tried to turn the monitor in, but it wouldn't work, it was broken. He wondered how that had happened, and supposed that something must have broken it while everyone was away. After a few minutes he decided to forget all about it, but he would have to call at some point and request it to be fixed. He didn't really like the idea of almost no surveillance at all.

Later Sandor had taken care of some little things that he had found to do here and there, and then, after he could no longer find any excuse to be away from Sansa while the cleaning and cooking staff finished their job. So there he was, watching Sansa from the French windows, waiting for the other fuckers to finally leave. They should be done soon enough, and while he waited, Sandor decided to go back to the bar inside the mansion and pour himself a drink. He grabbed a bottle of wine and purred the dark red liquid into a cup, which he drank in one single gulp. He though about pouring himself a second cup, but decided against it and out the bottle away before returning to the backyard. He felt the urge to smoke to kill the boredom of the moment, but he cursed when he didn't find any cigars or even a lighter in his pockets.

He didn't have to wait much longer. The maids and servants and cooks hired by Joffrey started leaving one by one and one of them announced their departure. Sandor dismissed them, and felt a deep relief when they all finally left, and the house was again only for Sansa and him.

"Well," he rasped. "I guess those buggers won't be coming back anytime soon again..."

He had been facing the front gate while he spoke, and had turned his back on the backyard, so he didn't expect it when he turned around and he suddenly found Sansa running towards him. He could barely react before she happily jumped in his arms and threw her arms around his neck, and put her legs around his waist. Sandor was thrown a few steps back by the force of the impact, but he managed to keep standing on his feet and he immediately put his arms around Sansa, holding her tight against him. He laughed with her, sharing her joy over their regained liberty, and then he kissed her full in the mouth. Sansa squealed with delight and smiled against his mouth, and parted her lips for him when he licked them with his tongue. It was a long and passionate, intense, and deep kiss that did not end until they were both breathless and burning up.

When they parted from each other, their breathing was heavy. Sandor didn't know how he looked, but Sansa's face was completely blushed. It was in moments like those, when her face was of a deep pink color, that she looked half like a girl, a little bird, and half like the passionate grown woman that she really was. He loved it. Besides, her face matched her hair.

"I thought they would never leave!" she exclaimed then, still a bit breathless. She cupped his face with her hands, no longer putting her arms around his neck but not afraid of falling, she knew that she was completely safe in his arms. "You looked a bit impatient back there in the backyard. Where you mad that I was ignoring you?"

"Of course not," he scoffed, and Sansa grinned.

"You were. You were mad because I was all by myself, with my music and my sun, and I wasn't paying you any attention!"

"You prefer to think that I get mad over some egotistical reason, rather than believe that I was genuinely concerned about your skin's safety?"

"You don't strike me as a man that concerns about those things," she retorted teasingly.

"You have very beautiful skin. It would be a shame if you ended up looking like a cooked crab."

Sansa threw her head back and laughed harder than Sandor had ever heard her laugh. She laughed long and plenty, and it made Sandor smile satisfied. Making Sansa laugh like that was definitely a win.

"Cooked crab is not bad at all!" she chuckled then. "It's delicious. Have you ever tasted it?"

"I rather taste you," he said, with hungry eyes full of lust.

Sansa squealed once again an jumped from Sandor's arms, running around the room of the mansion, playfully getting away from Sandor. He rolled his eyes before setting off to chase after her around the main floor of the mansion, across all the rooms, until they ended up in the huge living room that was a mixture of modern and classic, and he managed to grab her by the waist and push her flat in her back on the couch.

Sandor jumped over her, careful not to crash her with the weight if his body. For several minutes they were a tangled mess if limbs, caressing and kissing each other like there was no tomorrow, and Sandor felt like a hormonal teenager all over again. Well, fuck it, it was well worth it!

The TV was on, and some music program was being broadcasted video clips. At that moment, the video clip that was showing was of some man with black hair and an excessive amount of make up, dressed in the most outrageous outfit that Sandor had ever seen. It kind of reminded him of the outfits that Renly Baratheon wore to parties when he was alive. Sandor didn't pay any attention to the video clip, he had just seen some details from the corner of his eye, and instead focused of kissing Sansa. She was a sight to be seen, covered only with a bikini and squirming under him, giggling when his lips kissed and bit and tickled the side of her neck.

"Sandor!" Sansa exclaimed, still giggling, when he lowered her head and buried his face in her bosom, kissing the top of her breasts.

"You are delicious, little bird..." he rasped, and his voice sounded muffled against her breasts. "I want you, all of you..."

He surrounded her small body with his arms and pressed her against him. Then he sat up on the couch and took Sansa with him, sitting her on his lap, with her legs at his sides. He continued kissing the top of her breasts, and his hands hungrily roamed all the bare skin of her body. Responding to his passionate affections, Sansa rocked her hips against his, feeling him hard through the thin layers of fabric that separated him from her. When Sansa did that, Sandor groaned. Satisfied with his response, Sansa rocked her hips against his again, making another groan escape his mouth.

"You'll be the death of me, Sansa..."

They continued their passionate kissing session on the couch. Sandor felt like he was about to explode, and he could feel that Sansa was on fire. He would have never, not ever in his life, thought that he could provoke such reaction on a woman like that. Sansa was everything that was out of his reach, everything that he had always known that he could never have. But there she was, all his. Even though he knew that would not be for long, the fact that Sansa was with him willingly, because she wanted to, was what made him feel like the luckiest bugger in the entire fucking world. What she had seen in him to make her want him, he didn't know.

His fingers found the lace of the too of her bikini in her back. He took one of them between his thumb and index finger and he pulled, making the lace come undone. Sansa gasped when she felt the too of her bikini being undone in the back, and she opened her eyes to look at Sandor, who was grinning with passion and lust shinning furiously in his grey eyes. There was still another lace in the back of Sansa's neck that held the bikini top in place, covering her breast. He had every intention of undoing that one too, and Sansa looked like she had every intention of letting him do it. However, he never got the chance to do it, because at that moment Sansa's stomach started growling like a dying whale.

Sansa gasped, surprised by the sudden interruption of her belly, and stared at Sandor with eyes wide as plates. She jumped on his lap when her belly started growling again, and after it had gone silent she started laughing. Despite she inconvenient interruption, Sandor smiled amused.

"The little bird is hungry?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Red with embarrassment, Sansa nodded, but not before her tummy started growling again. Sandor was amazed that such a tiny belly could do so much noise. Sansa started cracking up and rolled off his lap, falling on her back on the couch. Sandor started laughing too, amused by everything, and he rubbed Sansa's belly playfully before standing up from the couch and heading to the kitchen, where the cooks had left food for an entire week.

While he was at the kitchen, putting some food in some dishes for Sansa, he heard the music get louder in the huge living room of the mansion. He frowned, wondering what Sansa was up to during his short absence. He found out when he returned to the living room. Sansa had tied the laces of her bikini again, fetched a light green cover up and put it on. She had turned the volume of the TV up so much that the music seemed deafening: she was now listening to some pop song sung by a blond woman that looked familiar to Sandor but he couldn't put a name to her face. Sansa was dancing around the living room and singing along some of the lyrics of the song. Sandor stared at her in silence, enjoying the view of her being so happy, and listening to her sing. Even though she was just singing a few lines at the too of her lungs at that moment, she still had a beautiful voice. Sandor remembered the first time that he had seen her when he had to act as her bodyguard during one of her concerts, and he recalled the way in which her voice had captivated him and caught him in a spell from which he could not escape. He had often desired to her her sing again; he had never enjoyed music very very much or cared about it, but Sansa's singing voice had caused the effect of a drug on him.

"Will you sing a song for me one day?" he asked, announcing his presence back in the living room.

Sansa stopped dancing and singing and jumping around and turned to face him. She was expressionless for a few seconds, just looking at him in silence. Then she smiled sweetly and nodded.

"Yes. Maybe someday I will."

That promise was good enough for him, and he liked seeing the way in which Sansa's cheeks started blushing after that for no reason. He took a few steps towards her and he kissed her briefly before giving her the plate full of food that he had taken from the kitchen for her.

"Here. I don't want you starving."

They sat together on the couch again, and Sandor lowered the sound of the TV and then watched as Sansa are the food that he had brought for her. She devoured it, but she kept her manners the whole time. She was really hungry.

"Fuck, girl, when was the last time you ate?" he asked, surprised by her hunger. It wasn't that late in the day to be that hungry, and he wasn't starving her!

"At breakfast," she said, shrugging and continuing to eat. "Are you not hungry?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, I guess I wasn't eating very well before coming here. I'm making up for all the missing meals."

"Does your agent make you stay super thin for your damn job or what?"

"No, I'm naturally very thin. I just don't feel like eating with the Baratheons and the Lannisters every day," she responded, shrugging again.

"I don't blame you," he rasped.

They spent the next daylight hours talking. First, Sansa went upstairs to change into warmer clothes, because in the evening, although the sun was still up (it was February, but it was summer in the south of Westeros because it was located in the Southern Hemisphere) the breeze that came from the ocean was a bit cold. She returned downstairs with a normal white T-shirt and tight jeans and socks. Even in those clothes she was the most beautiful woman that Sandor had seen in his life, and her auburn hair seemed even brighter in contrast to the white fabric of her clothes.

She sat down comfortably on the couch and talked for hours about her childhood, and Winterfell, her home, and her family, and how her teenage years had been. Sandor believed her when she told him that she had been an insufferable spoiled brat, and when he told her so she pretended to be offended, grabbed a cushion of the sofa and hit him in the head with it. Sandor allowed her to hit him with the cushion, he didn't even feel it, and the little play fight amused him. He wasn't lying, he could perfectly imagine her as some little spoiled daddy's girl, even though now he could see that she wasn't like that anymore. Sansa laughed it off and then she told him about how her mother, Catelyn, had encouraged her to become a singer when she finished her studies (she had gone to college and had studied an English major before starting her music career) and had introduced her to an old friend of hers, who was now Sansa's agent. Though engaged to Joffrey, she had spent years stuck in recording studios and traveling around the world on tours and filming the movie that had made her get two Oscar nominations; she hadn't travelled to King's Landing until recently before her father died.
She told Sandor about her brothers and her sister, and about how much she loved and missed them. By the time when she was done talking, Sandoe felt like he had known Sansa for an eternity, and he felt that he understood her a lot better. He also felt that she had been very happy before all that shit had come into her life and turned it upside down.

After telling her story, Sansa wanted to know his. Sandor had hesitated, because his life was not something that he usually talked about to anyone. But it was Sansa, she wasn't anyone. Besides, she had shared the story of her life with him, so he owed her a story in return.

Sandor had been born in a town right next to Lannisport, and his family had worked for the Lannisters, so he was constantly around them. He told Sansa that he had a brother, though she already knew that. He also told her that he had a younger sister, but he hadn't met her. His parents had decided to give her up for adoption for some reason when she was born, and Sandor had never had the opportunity to be an older brother. However, he always figured that his sister had been lucky, because life in the Clegane family wasn't happy. When Sandor was 10 his mother died of cancer, and when he was 12 his father had been killed in a car crash. His older brother Gregor had been in the car too, in the passenger seat, but he had survived. Sandor had always believed that Gregor had provoked the accident during one of his rage fits. He did not have a good relationship with his father, and Sandor suspected that during a fight in the car, Gregor had grabbed the steering wheel and made their father lose control of the vehicle, making it fall down the ravine. The fall had killed their father instantly and left the car in a catastrophic state. Gregor had miraculously survived with only a broken arm, some broken ribs, a broken leg, some bruises and cuts all over his body, but it was nothing compared to what should have really happened to him. He had been fucking lucky, and Sandor hated him for it.

He had absolutely no repairs telling Sansa exactly how much he hated Gregor. He had hated him since he was a little kid, first because of the beatings, and later because of what happened to his face. Sansa already knew that Gregor was guilty for Sandor's scars, but she did not know why exactly he was guilty. Sandor told her. He told her how, when he was seven years old, he had been near a gas station with his family. His parents had gone away to but some stuff and pay for the gasoline that they had just put inside the car, and they had left Sandor and Gregor alone in the car. Gregor was not a patient boy back then, just as he wasn't a patient man in the present, and he had gone out of the car. Sandor had followed him to tell him to come back, because he was going to get in trouble if he left and left his little brother alone. Sandor was naive enough back then to try and avoid a future quarrel between his brother and his parents. Gregor had been playing with a lighter that he had stolen from their father, and Sandor asked him to put it away before their dad came back and got mad. Instead of putting the lighter away, Gregor had grabbed the gasoline hose and swung it in Sandor's direction. A few drops of gasoline had fallen on Sandor's face, and when he complained about it, Gregor had lit the lighter and he had thrown it against Sandor's face. Because of the gasoline, the side of his face immediately caught fire. His screams alerted their parents and the people from the gas station, who had run towards him and put out the fire as fast as they could outing bottles of water on him, but the damage had been very extensive. Everybody thought that it had just been an accident and that Gregor hadn't hurt his brother on purpose, though Sandor always thought that his parents knew that that was a lie but they didn't dare to say anything against their eldest son.

Sandor knew that Sansa had been scared of Gregor the first time that she saw him, back in the Lannister mansion of Casterly Rock, but what he saw in her eyes wasn't just fear: it was pure horror and terror. She stared at him wide-eyed and with a hand out over her mouth to cover her horrified expression. Two horrified tears fell from her eyes, and after a few seconds she moved from her side to the sofa towards where Sandor was sitting and threw her arms around him in a protective and comforting embrace. Sandor closed his eyes and accepted her hug, grateful that someone finally cared about him after all that time.

"I'm so sorry..." Sansa whispered. "He's a monster."

"He is," he nodded with a barely audible voice.

He told her what had happened later in is life. He had been put in some foster families at first before the Lannisters took him in, and later he went to boot camp and became a fine and fierce soldier. At the young age of 21 he had impressed the Lannisters and had been hired by Cersei Lannister. He became Joffrey's bodyguard and more or less his babysitter, and here he was now.

Sansa listened to him finishing his story, and Sandor noticed how quiet she was and how deep in thought she seemed to be. He wanted to know what was going through her mind, and then he realized that they both had tragic at some point of their stories. Gregor was the monster in his story, and Joffrey was the monster in her story. They both were afraid of someone that had taken so much from them and hurt them so much. If he thought about it, Sansa and him were much more similar than he originally thought they would be.

Sansa caressed his cheek with his thumb and then, without notice, she placed a gentle kiss on Sandor's burn cheek. He stiffened, completely taken by surprise by that sudden and unexpected action, and he stared at Sansa in awe after she slowly leaned back from him. He expected to see disgust and revulsion on her face after having done that, but he found none of it. It was as if the skin she had just kissed what normal instead of leather-hard, blackened, and cratered. Sandor had to admit that, with each passions minute, his admiration for Sansa Stark only grew more and more.

"Did you ever try to find your sister?" Sansa asked shyly, wondering if it was maybe improper to ask that question.

Sandor sighed and shook his head lightly.

"No. Why would I do it! She's better off wherever she is, not knowing what hell of a shithole she escaped from," he rasped. Truth was, he had never even thought about looking for her, not even when he felt more lonely than ever. He didn't want to drag some innocent person into his world and open her eyes to the horror that her biological family was.

"I would do whatever I could to be able to see my sister again," Sansa whispered with deep sadness.

The shooter, Sandor recalled, remembering the small woman with short brown hair and grey eyes with a gun that had tried to blow Joffrey's brains all over the steps of the Sept of Baelor. Only the gods know what the fuck drove that girl to try something so stupid!

They stood there in silence for some time, with their energy drained after sharing their stories. Sandor didn't regret any of it, because now he felt a much deeper connection with Sansa, a connection that not even sleeping with her a thousand times could create, and he was grateful for that connection. He felt like he had something now, something that definitely only belonged to him and no one else. He had a piece of Sansa's soul, and she had a piece of his. Instead of cursing himself for thinking like a bloody romantic old stupid dog, he thought that he really enjoyed the feeling of freedom that that conversation had brought to him, he hadn't realized until them how much it hurt to hold things in for a long time.

The sky was already dark outside, and it was covered with bright stars all over it. Because the nearest town was very small and a couple of miles away, there want light pollution around there and the stars could be seen perfectly, unlike in the capital where the sky was always pitch black and lifeless. They had turned the TV off, so they could hear the crickets in the backyard and the sound of the distant waves in the beach.

They say there with their arms around each other for a while longer, lost in their thoughts, until the peace was broken by the sound of a motorcycle approaching the mansion. At first they ignored it, but then the noise because louder until it suddenly stopped. Some seconds later, the bell of the main door of the mansion rang.

"Maybe the people that were here before forgot something?" Sansa asked, wondering who could be ringing the bell at that time and that place. No one else knew there were there! A sudden panic took over her expression. "Maybe Joffrey had sent something for me already?"

"No, I don't think so," Sandor rasped, taking his arms away from around Sansa's body and standing up on the couch.

He left the living room, unaware that he was being closely followed by Sansa, and he looked through the peephole before opening the door. Outside was a man with red and white hair, talk and tan, dressed as a pizza deliverer and holding a box. He looked extremely bored. Sandor frowned when he saw him.

"What the fuck?" he murmured before opening the door after the man insisted and rang the bell a second time. After opening the door, Sandor glared at the man.

"Sandor Clegane?" the man asked before Sandor could say anything. He had a strong foreign accent that made Sandor drown even more.

"Who's asking?"

"No one, I'm just delivering the order."

"I didn't order any fucking pizza."

"It says right here that you did."

"Bugger off."

"Sandor, don't be rude!" Sansa exclaimed, scandalized by his use of vulgar language in front of other people. It was just then that Sandor realized that the girl had been hiding behind him.

Oh, for fuck's sake!

"Go back inside, girl," he said. He didn't want to say her name in front of the man for fear that he then might recognize her, either for her political connections of for her fame as a singer, and then they would be fucked because Sandor wasn't about to tolerate fanboys. Or fanmen, in that case, because the man seemed to be in his thirties.

The pizza deliverer had noticed Sansa indeed.

"You look familiar," he said then with his strong accent.

Oh, fuck, here we go… Sandor thought, waiting for the man to suddenly ask for her autograph or something.

He did nothing of the sorts.

"You remind me of a friend of mine," the man said, much to Sandor and Sansa's surprise. He narrowed his eyes with interest as he stared at Sansa, still holding the box of pizza in his hands. "She's a very funny girl. Very short too, she doesn't look like you in that aspect, but she is very pretty. She had a nickname when she was younger, though… Underfoot, I think it was."

Sansa gasped all of a sudden and covered her mouth with her hand in shock. Sandor didn't understand what was so shocking about what the man had said, but again he didn't have time to ask any questions, because he saw that the man had put his index finger over his lips, asking for silence. Sansa slowly lowered her hand again and tried to maintain a neutral expression. The man lowered his finger from his lips and searched for something in his pocket, a paper, which he then handed over to Sandor. It was a receipts for the pizza, and Sandor recognized the name of the only pizza place in the town a couple miles away. But then he looked better and sew that there was something handwritten in the receipt.

Are there are micros or bugs around here?

He had no fucking idea what that was all about. All his instincts as a bodyguard and as a rational man told him to push Sansa back inside the house and slam the door in the man's face. But when he saw the pleasing look in Sansa's eyes he knew that she knew something about the man that he did not.

No, there weren't any listening devices around there, but there was a fucking camera in the front gate. Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head to answer the man's question. It was clear by now to Sandor that that man was no pizza delivered. What bugged him was the connection that that man somehow had with Sansa. What was going on?

"I'm going to meet my friend tonight, you know? She's waiting for me not far from here. She wants me to reunite her with some people... I hope they can come," the man said very casually, like he was just doing some small talk while he waited for the payment for the pizza. "She will be really disappointed if they don't show up."

Sandor gave him a bill for the pizza, to pretend in front of the surveillance camera. Then he took the pizza box and retreated back inside the house, taking Sansa with him.

"Have a good night, Miss Stark," the mysterious man said before Sandor closed the door in his face.

Both him and Sansa stood in silence for a couple of seconds until they heard the man driving off in the same motorcycle in which he had arrived there, and then Sansa gasped again.

"Oh my God!"

"Can you explain to me what the fuck was that, Sansa?"

"My sister!" she almost screamed.

What?

"Underfoot! That was my sister's nickname when she was little! Some mean kids from out neighborhood have it to her, they were my friends at the time, but... Oh, whatever, give me that!"

She snatched the pizza box from Sandor's hands and opened it. Inside they didn't find a pizza, but what they did find was an envelope. Sansa quickly grabbed it and threw the cardboard box to the floor, and she opened the envelope. Sandor tried to stop her.

"Sansa, wait!"

"I can't, Sandor, he knows my sister!"

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do! He knew her nickname! He knew who I was! Don't you get it, Sandor?! My sister is here!"

"It's impossible. It's ridiculous! How would your sister-"

Sansa wasn't listening to him. She opened the envelope that she had found inside the cardboard pizza box, and she took a letter from inside of it. It was handwritten, and as soon as she saw it she gasped again.

"It's... It's Arya's handwriting..." she said with a trembling voice.

Sandor guessed that Sansa would recognize her own sister's handwriting and wouldn't be wrong about it, so he shut up and read the letter over Sansa's shoulder. It was hard to read it at first because Sansa's hands were shaking so much, but he held them with his own big and steady hands and helped her hold the letter so that they both could read it.

Dear Sansa,

I'm in Sapphire Isle. I want to see you, there is much that I have to tell you, much that you have to understand. I'm sorry it has to be this way, but this will be our only chance to meet and be able to do this. Trust Jaqen, he is a good friend. Bring Clegane with you, you will probably need him. Jaqen will be waiting for you a midnight a mile north from the mansion.

If Sansa is not reading this, Clegane, and you do not show it to her, know that if you don't bring my sister to me by midnight I will suppose that you have decided to keep this a secret from her, this you are not worth trusting. I have reasons to believe you are a man that can be trusted, but my mind can easily be changed on that matter. Don't try to call the Lannisters, because we will get to you first.

I really hope things don't have to get to that.

Good luck Sansa, and I'm looking forward to finally see you again. I'll explain everything, I promise. You will be safe.

In case you are wondering, this is not a trap.

A.S

After finishing reading the letter, Sansa folded it. Silence reigned between her and Sandor before Sandor rasped:

"You are not going."

"Oh yes, I am," Sansa muttered, walking away with him and running up the stairs.