Chapter Seventeen

Before Sansa could even get one word out, someone was pounding on the door. Margaery ran over and seemed not at all surprised to see Daenerys standing there. She stormed into the room, practically pushing Margaery aside and Sansa knew it: she was about to get punched.

But then Jon stood in front of her. As pissed as he was at her, he was still protecting her.

"What the hell, Sansa?" Daenerys demanded. "Are you hooking up with my boyfriend?"

"No, I'm not. I don't think he even knows who I am," Sansa said. God, she was really in it now. "I," she cleared her throat, "I lied to Jon because I knew he didn't approve of the guy I was seeing and your boyfriend was the first name that came to me and it just came out and I went with it and - shit, I'm just so sorry."

Daenerys glared at her over Jon's shoulder. "Is that the truth?"

Sansa nodded. "Yes."

"Who is the guy that your friend here wouldn't approve of?" Daenerys asked.

"I...I can't tell you that," Sansa said.

"You better not be fucking lying to me, Sansa," Daenerys said.

"I'm not. I'm pretty sure that your boyfriend doesn't even know who the hell I am."

"He says he doesn't," Daenerys said slowly.

"Then I would definitely trust him on that."

Daenerys just stared at her for a long few seconds and then stormed out as quickly as she'd stormed in, and slammed the door behind her.

Jon turned slowly to face Sansa. "Who is it, Sansa? Who is the guy?"

"I'm um, I'm gonna go..." Margaery said and then she was out the door before Sansa could say a word.

Sansa looked at Jon, who looked ready to erupt. "Can I um, can I just find something for that eye?" she asked softly.

"I don't care about my fucking eye," he growled. "Tell me who it is, Sansa. Now."

Jon never got demanding like that. Never. So she let it go because he a. he was never bossy, b. he'd gotten punched because of her and c. she had been lying to him this whole time so he had a right to be pissed.

"Jaime. It is Jaime. Or was because—"

He let out an inhuman roar, his whole being vibrating with rage. "I can't fucking believe you!"

"Jon—"

"I'm going to kill him," Jon said furiously and started for the door.

Sansa leapt after him and grabbed his arm. "Jon, no, you can't—"

"Don't tell me what I can't do, Sansa. That prick is asking for it—"

"Jon, he's left the school!"

"Then I'll find out where he lives—"

"No, Jon, he's been asked to leave the school is what I'm saying. Or at least that's what I gather. He's going on an extended sabbatical. He might have even been fired. It's apparently all over the school that he was fooling around with a student."

"And is that student you?" Jon said with a calm that was just as lethal and deadly as his rage.

"No. Some other student."

Jon pointed at her. "I told you. I told you he was scum."

"Yes, well, I can imagine how good it feels to have been right about that," Sansa snapped and turned away from him. She went over to her bed and sat down.

"Don't you dare, Sansa, don't you dare turn this around and make me the bad guy here. You lied to me."

"I know."

"Every time you said you were going to see Drogo it was that fucker you were going to see, wasn't it?"

She nodded.

"What did he do to you?"

She looked at him, brows furrowed in question. "What do you mean what did he do to me? He didn't blackmail me—"

"Did you have sex with him?" Jon demanded.

"Jesus – how is that any of your business?!"

"Because you're mine to protect!"

"I told you I released you from your duties!" she shouted as she stood back up.

"I'm not talking about what I promised your parents or Robb," he practically spat. "I don't care about that, I care about what happens to you, and the idea of that ass touching you…"

"He didn't rape me, Jon," she told him. "Anything that he and I did I did willingly."

He shut his eyes and wiped a hand down his face. "Did you have sex with him, Sansa?"

"No! God! Why is that the big deal?"

"Because your first time shouldn't be with someone like that."

She looked at him incredulously. "I didn't know that my first time was such a big deal to you. When it happens do you want me to give you a ring and let you know? Are you planning on throwing a party – I mean, what is the big deal for you if I do or—"

"I know it's a big deal to you, so it's a big deal to me. I can't—" He broke off, the very picture of frustration.

"Can't what?"

"Forget it," he muttered and raked a hand through his hair. "I can't believe you lied to me. How long was this going on for? Before we went to the movies that night and I asked you specifically—"

"No. It started after the night of Theon's party when Ramsay… you know."

He shut his eyes again briefly. "God, I wish I would have been there with you."

"You can't be with me every second of every day," she told him. "And you can't tell me who I can and can't see. You're not my keeper, Jon. I do make my own decisions and I made the choice to date Jaime—"

"That wasn't dating, Sansa. That was sordid and wrong and—"

"Oh, fuck you! Just because you don't approve…"

"Yeah?"

She folded her arms across her chest. "I get it, okay? I was wrong and you were right. I shouldn't have dated him, I shouldn't have lied to you – I get it. I have egg on my face as it is. As stupid as it must make me, I thought he genuinely cared about me, Jon. He pushed me to audition for that show, he pushed me to change my major…"

"Well, the one thing he could do right was his job. Sansa, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you would have flipped out the way you are now!"

He looked like he wanted to throttle her. "No, see, I just got my ass handed to me because I wanted to finally meet the guy who I was told was your boyfriend. I accused that guy of cheating on his girlfriend! He punched me three times, Sansa. And the whole time you were just lying to me while you did something dangerous with your professor!"

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. I know I shouldn't have done it – not any of it, but I didn't care at the time. I just wanted…I just wanted…"

"What, Sansa, what did you want?" Jon demanded.

"I wanted someone to want me! I wanted someone because you already did and I didn't. He made me feel good. He was sweet to me. He got Ramsay kicked out of this school. He supported me—"

"I support you."

"It isn't a competition!"

Silence fell. Jon looked like there were a million things he wanted to say, but for some reason he was now quiet. He heaved a sigh, shook his head, and then stormed out of the room. Sansa started to cry.

xxxxxx

Jon was so angry he just wanted to punch something. Someone. Specifically Jaime fucking Lannister. He stopped abruptly in the middle of the path to his dorm and narrowed his eyes. Sam was a genius when it came to finding people…

Maybe he could actually punch Jaime Lannister. If the douchebag got him arrested well…

It would be worth it.

xxxxx

It took nothing to find Jaime Lannister. Google was a marvel. And, thanks to his GPS, it didn't take Jon long to find the rat bastards house.

When the other man answered the door, Jon didn't even have to think about it. He didn't hesitate. He punched him. Hard. Dr. Lannister stumbled backwards and brought his hand to his nose. When he got a look at Jon he sighed and said, "Jon right? Sansa's friend?"

Jon nodded, fists still balled up at his sides.

"I deserved that then I suppose," Dr. Lannister said. He grabbed a tissue off the table against the wall and brought it to his nose. Jon saw him pull away the tissue with blood on it.

"I've never liked you," Jon snarled.

"Well, no, I don't suppose you would like me I mean, you are in love with Sansa and all."

Jon's fists went lax. He looked at Dr. Lannister as if he didn't know what to make of that – and he didn't. In love with Sansa?

Dr. Lannister chuckled. "Oh, you didn't know, huh?"

Jon just continued to stare at him, just utterly reeling from that.

"Well, Jon, it's been quite obvious to me. Sansa doesn't have a clue. And if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure she is, or was, in love with you, too. She was pretty distraught when you started to date. But then, that helped me slip in, so…"

Jon went after him again and Dr. Lannister held up his hands. "Just stop, son, just stop."

"It seems to me that if you can call me that, then you are aware that there is a significant age gap between us. I'm only two years older than Sansa, so you know that she is younger than I am."

"I am aware, yes, but that's what makes me the predator in this scenario isn't it?"

"You admit it?"

"What choice do I have? It's the reason I have left the school."

"Were you fired?" Please say you were fired, Jon thought.

"Is that the rumor? No, I wasn't fired. I was strongly encouraged to go by my brother who threatened to have me fired. He found out about the other girl…saw us together or some shit. Anyway, I went to the school and told them I had to leave, that there were personal issues keeping me from being able to continue teaching. I'm pretty sure they knew what that meant."

"Because it wasn't the first time."

Dr. Lannister just shrugged, nonplussed. "Listen, Jon, will you give Sansa a message for me?"

"Maybe I didn't break your face enough," Jon said and started after him again.

Dr. Lannister held up his hands again and Jon thought – he's not some knight in shining armor. He's a fucking chicken shit.

"Just tell her that I'm sorry. Tell her that she does have talent and that whatever else she may think of me, I do truly believe in her."

Jon wanted to hit him again. Badly. He forced himself to leave before he did.

When he returned to the dorm room, Sam informed him that Ygritte had stopped by looking for him, but Jon just didn't care. He sat down next to Sam on the couch, hunched over.

"Did you hit him?" Sam asked.

"Yes. Once. I wanted to hit him a lot more than that though."

"What does it say about a guy that would defend the honor of his best friend the way you just did," Sam said.

Jon looked at him wearily. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I just think that you went to a lot of trouble to defend Sansa's honor. It wasn't as though Dr. Lannister was on campus and you could go to his office or find him in the quad. You came here, we looked him up online, and you drove to his house to punch him."

"What's your point, Sam?" Jon snapped.

"Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

Jon pursed his lips together and shook his head. He got up from the sofa and went to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

He got the gist of what Sam meant. It was the same thing Dr. Lannister had accused him of.

"…I mean, you are in love with Sansa and all."

And then Sansa with her "It's not a competition."

It felt like one. How did Dr. Lannister rate? How did he get to touch her and kiss her and hold her – that was, of course, assuming Jon even wanted that which he did not. . .

Except that he did.

And how did Dr. Lannister get to be her champion? He saved her from Ramsay, he got Ramsay kicked out, he gets her to declare a major and audition for a performance…all these things that Jon wished he had done for her.

But he'd been with Ygritte…

Not that he couldn't have his own life and do his own thing – and that included dating, but…

Jon sat down on his bed. There was a tremble in his hands. Oh, God. Was Dr. Lannister right? Was he in love with Sansa?

He thought of their friendship, their very special friendship. How he knew her so well. How she knew him so well. Sansa knew what he was thinking at all times just by the look on his face and it was the same for him with her. He thought about how he felt as though she was in his blood, in his bones…how much a part of him she was.

He hadn't been able to stand the idea of her with someone this whole time. When he was with Ygritte, his mind was on Sansa. When he wasn't with Ygritte, his mind was on Sansa.

His mind was always on Sansa.

He hated that Dr. Lannister was able to get as close to her as he obviously had. He'd been her champion, her hero, and Jon hated it. He was her hero.

"Have I ever told you that you're my hero?"

"Not this again. Do I have to?"

"Yes!"

"Sansa, no. Let me retain some dignity, please?"

Jon's heart was racing. He felt like it might just race right out of his chest. He wanted her smiles. Her touches. He wanted her.

Sam knocked on the door and when Jon didn't answer, he entered anyway. "Listen, I was out of line. I'm sorry—"

"I think I'm in love with Sansa," Jon blurted out.

Sam just looked at him and then slowly broke in a wide smile. "Yes, Jon. I think you are, too."