Chapter Four

Sansa had slept like utter shit the night before. She couldn't get comfortable, she kept tossing and turning.

She kept thinking about Jon and Ygritte.

Now, she sat before the baby grand in her music room waiting for Dr. Jaime Lannister to show up and she tinkered on the keys, just pressing high C and singing, "I am a freak…I need to stop thinking about it…what the fuck is wrong with meeeee?"

"New song?"

Sansa jumped and turned to find Jaime coming inside. He put a briefcase and suit jacket (he was always in a suit, sometimes with a tie, sometimes without. Today he was without) down on a desk and smiled at her. Sansa smiled back thinly and felt a blush coming on. Now she couldn't look at Jaime without thinking about Jon had said last night about Jaime looking at her like he wanted to have her as a snack. Jaime was a handsome older guy, that much had never escaped her notice. Fair-haired, tall, and blue-eyed, Jaime held himself with confidence. He spoke with ease and nothing seemed to ruffle him. He was quite charming, which was probably what Jon mistook for him wanting her. He asked everyone to call him Jaime, but Sansa knew that was probably to distinguish himself from his brother Tyrion, another professor (of history) who did go by Dr. Lannister.

Well, Jon was wrong. Jaime was charming to everyone, and Jon was just…paranoid. And weird. And clueless. Seriously, he even missed some girl crushing on him when it was so obvious –

Stop. Just stop.

"You seem down this morning, Miss Stark. Something on your mind?" Jaime asked as he came over and sat down beside her.

"Oh, just stupid freshman girl drama," she joked.

"Ah, I remember having freshman boy drama. Want to tell me about it?"

She sighed. She kind of did, weirdly enough. Jaime was older, perhaps he could give her perspective. He had been the one to tell her that she should switch her major from undeclared to music. It was a source of contention with her parents that she didn't start with a major. Her entire family seemed bent on doing something with politics or law enforcement. Their predilection had even rubbed off on Jon, though he claimed he had his own personal reasons for wanting to be an attorney. She thought perhaps it had something to do with what had happened to him before being adopted. Another thing she never asked him about. That was wrong, wasn't it? Being as close as they were? Were they really so close then? Or was it proximity and their familial connection that dictated they be so?

Crap on a crayfish, why was she questioning her entire relationship with Jon?

"Oh, just boys," Sansa said with a little laugh, trying to make light of the whole thing.

He nudged her. "Tell me."

"I have this friend. Jon."

"The one that sometimes comes by to pick you up?"

"Yes."

"He's just a friend?" Jaime sounded surprised.

Sansa sighed and buried her face in her hands. "Oh my God, you thought we were together? What is with everyone thinking we're a couple?" She didn't mention that Margaery knew they weren't but just suggested that they acted like one. But if Jaime thought so too…

Jaime laughed softly. "I take it that's a problem?"

"Jon and I are – he's my best friend. My best guy friend. Last night we went to the movies and he ran into a classmate and I could tell she had a thing for him. He was clueless about it, but I told him he totally has a shot with this girl and now…"

"And now you're worried he might ask her out."

"Yes! And it's so stupid, Jaime." She turned slightly to face him. "I love Jon, but I don't love Jon. My best girlfriend thinks we act like a couple and that my stupid jealousy and fear of him asking her out all stems from these deep buried feelings I have for him and now I can't stop thinking about it."

"You know yourself better than anyone, Sansa. Do you think that's the case or is it the power of suggestion that has you second guessing everything?"

She threw up her hands. "Okay, see, yes! That's exactly it. Margaery planted the seed – which she's really good at – and now I'm all questioning what I truly feel for him. I mean I was, but not like that, not really." She frowned. "Maybe a little. But in my head it was just the change in our relationship. If he started dating then it stands to reason that he won't have as much time for me and we spend a lot of time together now."

"Worrying about changes in a relationship as tight as yours and Jon's is normal, Sansa. It could be that you're feeling you could be abandoned in some way. Perhaps it also stirred up the feeling that you'd like to date, too."

Sansa smiled. "Date. Yeah. I mean, why not, right?"

Jaime placed his hand over hers where it rested between them on the piano bench and smiled at her. Sansa looked up at him, a bit jolted by his touch. "You are a beautiful young woman, Sansa," he said, his voice deep and slightly hypnotic. "I'm sure you could have anyone man you want."

Sansa couldn't seem to form words; she could only stare at him. He didn't move, he didn't break his gaze and then, finally, Sansa had to look away. Something had just happened there and though he didn't look at her like he wanted her for a snack, there had still been…something. A spark of some sort.

Her heart racing, she turned to the piano and Jaime broke the weighted silence by saying, "How about we start with what we worked on last week?"

It was business as usual from then on. If Jaime touched her arm more than usual, or lean in closer than he needed at times, Sansa just chalked it up to the moment that had passed between them earlier and it meant nothing.

At least she didn't think so. It probably didn't.

Right?

xxxxxx

Ygritte was blunt. She said what she thought and at times it felt as though she didn't really leave a lot of room for discussion. A few times Jon felt differently than she did about what she was saying, but felt that maybe he couldn't really say anything.

He liked her though; she was different. She had some hard edges that he wasn't used to, but it wasn't necessarily bad. She reminded him of Val in some ways. He wondered if he attracted a certain type. Sansa was so different from both women. Sansa was funny in a different way – more sarcastic and less dry like Ygritte – and much more girly than Val and Ygritte.

Ygritte liked hard rock and was a feminist to the core. Jon didn't know if Sansa was a feminist. Ygritte wore t-shirts with bands name on them and went makeup less. Sansa didn't leave her dorm without makeup, and she tended to dress up more than down. Sansa's idea of dressing down was a pair of jeans and a flowing top of some sort that hugged her curves.

Jon had seen Ygritte show up to their psych class with pajama bottoms and bedhead. Sansa was always always perfectly put together, her hair always sleek and soft looking.

"I had fun," Ygritte said after Jon had finished buying Sansa her favorite indulgence at this particular coffee shop – a cheese Danish.

They walked outside together and Jon smiled shyly at her. "I did, too. Thanks for e-mailing me."

Ygritte grinned at him and before he could say anything else, she kissed him. Jon didn't have enough time to even react before she was pulling away and sauntering off, one hand up in the air and calling out, "See you later, Jon Snow!"

Jon just stood there, gobsmacked and disoriented. He rubbed the back of his neck in what Sansa called his 'nervous tick' and he went to his car (an old Honda Civic), feeling as though he was floating. He placed the white paper bag with Sansa's Danish on the passenger side seat and then he just sat there, hand on the steering wheel, and stared out the window. Slowly, a smile spread across his face.

Well, that had been quite a success then.

xxxxxxxx

Sansa was sitting in the quad on a bench, she had her legs crossed and was hunched over one of her textbooks for English when someone sat down beside her and placed a wrinkled white paper bag on her book.

She looked over at Jon. "Hey."

He smiled. "Hey."

Jon smiles were rare. Especially ones that lit up his whole face. She smiled back. "What's up?" She gestured to the bag. "What's this?"

"Look inside."

So she did and then squealed as she dug the Danish out of the bag. "You went without me, you brat!"

He laughed. "Yes, I did. I, uh, I went with Ygritte."

Sansa paused mid-bite. Sugar dissolved on her tongue. It tasted like ash. She finished taking the huge chunk out of her Danish and nodded slowly. "Oh?"

"Yeah, she e-mailed me last night so you're uh, 'wingman' stuff worked."

"Fantastic," Sansa said around a mouthful of Danish.

"She even kissed me."

Sansa dumped the rest of the cheese Danish in the bag.

"What's wrong? Is it not good?" Jon asked.

"It's fine. I'm just not hungry."

He frowned. "You said that last night, too. Are you feeling okay, San?"

"Peachy, with a side of keen."

"You don't sound fine… and you won't look at me." He put his hand on the side of her face and turned her head to face him. "San, what's going on?"

She looked at Jon, her Jon, and knew that Jaime had been right. Things were changing between her and Jon or rather, he was and she wasn't. He went on a date. He got kissed. And he seemed so very happy about it.

He'd thought of her though. He'd brought her the Danish. He knew it was her favorite and so she'd been on his mind in some capacity…but why did it hurt so much that he'd been there with someone else? That he hadn't been thinking of her when he'd gotten kissed, that he hadn't even told her this morning he was going on a date.

Why was she being so covetous and selfish when it came to him? Margaery had really gotten in her head this time…

Sansa pulled his hand away and unfolded her legs. She got up, book in hand, and grabbed her backpack that was sitting on the ground. "I need to get to class."

"Sansa, you don't have class for a half an hour," Jon pointed out.

"I need to speak with Dr. Lannister before then about my paper."

"What is going on with you?" Jon demanded. He sounded angry now.

"Nothing, geez! Relax!"

"Can I see you later?"

"Um, no, I think Margaery and I are going out tonight." She started running off before he could go after her or say something else. "I'll call you!"

Sansa ran until she was inside the building for her next class. Once inside, she ran up to the second floor where her class was and sank down onto the floor outside her classroom.

Her stomach growled and she dug in her bag for the Danish, even if it tasted like bitterness and confusion. She sighed when she realized she'd left it on the bench. That's telling, she thought and buried her face in her hands.