A/N: Hey, guys. Sorry for the super long, like...basically one year break I accidentally went on. Life happened, ya know? I'm almost done with my Master's and I went and did research abroad and my boyfriend and I are apartment hunting now, which is all very exciting, but did unfortunately push writing to the back burner. I'm back with a Valentine's update, and hopefully won't be too long before another one. This one was inspired by a scene in the middle of When Harry Met Sally. If you've seen it, you'll know what I'm talking about, and if you haven't, I recommend it. Anyway, I hope everyone's who still reading or any new arrivals are all doing well, and happy Valentine's/Galentine's/Single's Awareness Day to you all! Thank you to magnus374 for reviewing ch. 13.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to George R. R. Martin

Rating: M for some strong language and sexual content.

A particularly ordinary and uneventful Monday night found Sansa Stark sitting on her couch with a box of tissues, watching a John Hughes classic on her television with little interest. She was raised from her languid stupor by a knock at the door and rose from her couch with a heavy sigh.

When she opened the door she was greeted with the sight of a tall, imposing man, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. The burnt side of his mouth twitched upward, suggesting a smile, and he held out a thin cardboard box to the woman before him.

"One cheese pizza for a Miss Sansa Stark."

Sansa sighed again and stepped aside. "Thanks for coming. I was feeling lonely and didn't want to cook anything."

As she curled up on the couch again, Sandor closed the door and joined her. He put one arm around her shoulders as she leaned into his side and left the other free for pizza. After taking a slice, he looked toward the TV and raised his eyebrow.

"Pretty in Pink? Wow. You really were lonely."

Sansa's lips turned down and her friend turned his gaze back to her face.

"I don't even know why I feel this way," Sansa whined. "It's been four months and I don't miss Harry, but I just miss…having someone. Does that make sense?"

Sandor shrugged. "Sure, so, what you mean is, you miss the sex?" he asked around a mouthful of pizza.

Sansa blushed and pursed her lips. "I wish. I can take care of myself better than he ever could."

Sandor cocked his eyebrow but stayed silent.

Sandor Clegane and Sansa Stark had first met seven years before and became unlikely friends from that moment on. At various points there had been a tension that suggested a possibility beyond friendship, but they had both agreed, in unspoken terms, that their friendship was too valuable to put at risk. Even so, Sandor had never felt anything for anyone else since he had first laid eyes on her and he had supported her through a couple of lackluster relationships and inevitable break-ups, suffering in silence.

"What if I set you up with someone?" he suggested, ignoring the dull jealousy that throbbed in his chest.

"Who do you know that you think I'd want to date?" Sansa asked curiously.

Sandor got up and walked to the fridge, answering as he popped open two bottles of cider. "There's a guy who works at the place we're contracting with right now. A surgeon. Rich and pretty, just the way you like 'em."

Sansa stuck out her tongue but didn't refute the point. "A blind date though? I don't know about that."

"Well, do you have a friend for me?" Sandor asked, returning to the couch. "We could make it a double if you'd be more comfortable with that."

"Aww..." Sansa teased, placing a hand on his chest and feigning an expression of pity. "Is big, strong, Sandor Clegane feeling lonely too?"

He snorted. "Just trying to get you to stop moping, little bird. But what's the harm in having fun for a night and then never calling again?"

Sansa wrinkled her nose and gave him a half-hearted flick in his ribs. "This is why you don't have a girlfriend."

"Really?" he answered sarcastically, hiding a scowl behind his bottle. "I thought it was because of my face."

Sansa's expression softened and she leaned over him to place a kiss on his burned cheek. "If a woman can't see how wonderful you are, she isn't worth your time."

Sandor grunted noncommittally and they watched Andie flirt with Blane for a moment in silence.

"Alright," Sansa said finally. "Friday night at Victoria's? 7:00?"

"Sure," Sandor replied, shrugging and trying in vain to ignore her hopeful smile. "It's a date."

On Friday morning, Sansa found herself on the steps of her sister's apartment, her hands stuck in the pockets of her coat as she debated whether or not to knock. She had already gotten this far, so she figured she might as well, but before she got the chance, the door swung open. Arya stood in the doorway, one eyebrow cocked.

"How long were you planning on just standing out there, Sans?"

Sansa floundered for a moment, a blush rising to her cheeks. Finally, she sighed. "Can I come in?"

Arya smirked and nodded, standing aside and closing the door behind them. "I heard those ridiculous heels of yours on the steps and then watched you stand in front of my door for three minutes, so...what's up? Mom didn't you send you over for an intervention did she?"

Sansa shook her head, shedding her coat on the back of one of the available chairs and then settling into it. "No. I haven't talked to her for a few weeks. The last time I did, she told me she had seen Harry around town with someone else and I just...didn't want to deal with that."

Arya shrugged and joined her sister in the living room. "Eh. You're better off without him."

Sansa nodded absently in agreement and then hesitated before speaking again. "What about you? How are you feeling after…"

She trailed off and Arya raised her eyebrows. "After Gendry fucked a woman old enough to be his mother on our couch?" When Sansa's cheeks flushed, Arya snorted and then shrugged. "Fine I guess. Don't miss him if that's what you're asking."

Sansa nodded again, her gaze on the couch in mention and then after a long silence, she looked back at her sister. "Would you be willing to go on a date with a friend of mine tonight? He's trying to set me up with someone and said he'd double so I wouldn't have to go on a blind date alone."

Arya looked surprised. "Would I have any obligation to see him after tonight? Or tomorrow morning."

Sansa avoided her gaze, trying to suppress the sudden flare of jealousy that answered her sister's words, and their implication.

"No."

"Then sure, what's the harm? Might be good for me. I don't miss Gendry, but I do miss the sex."

Sansa scowled. Arya gave her a cheeky grin.

"So what's this friend's name? Do I know him? It isn't Loras is it? Everybody knows he's fucking Renly."

"No, it isn't Loras," Sansa responded. "Believe it or not he and Renly are actually officially dating now."

Arya hummed absently. "Would not have believed it before now."

Sansa nodded and sighed softly. "His name is Sandor."

Arya cocked her eyebrow and Sansa finally met her gaze again. "Wait. Sandor? Like...the Sandor? The one that you've mentioned in every other sentence since you were eighteen? The one with..." She gestured toward her face and then grimaced.

Sansa frowned but nodded. "I do not. But, yes. That one. He's a really great guy, and I think you two might have a lot in common."

As a matter of fact, Sansa knew they did, and she would never admit it, but it was part of the reason why she had avoiding having them meet. She knew she had no right, but she'd always worried that Sandor would realize he had befriended the wrong Stark and start hanging out with Arya. Or worse.

"Okay, then yeah," Arya answered. "For sure. I'm intrigued now. Who's the guy he's setting you up with?"

Sansa shrugged. "I'm not sure. The company he works for is contracting with a plastic surgery firm right now for some renovations and he said he's a surgeon there. I didn't get a name but he described him as 'rich and pretty'."

Arya snorted and stood, moving to the fridge for a can of beer. "Sounds like your type."

Sansa's lips turned down in a frown and she picked absently at some lint on her coat as she pouted. It was true that the men she had dated were of a certain type, but her attractions did not lie exclusively with wealthy and well-manicured gentlemen. In fact, though she had never spoken or acted on it, she had spent many of their afternoons together admiring Sandor's dark, muscular frame, with less than innocent thoughts. She knew he didn't feel the same way for her, and wasn't willing to risk their friendship for the sake of her crush, so she would take her daydreams about her best friend to her grave.

"Sans? I asked you a question."

Sansa looked up in alarm to see Arya regarding her with an expression of confused amusement. "What?"

"I asked what time we were meeting tonight. I figure I can take a cab to your place and we can drive together?"

"Oh. Of course," Sansa answered, standing and retrieving her coat. "We're meeting at the restaurant at 7:00. And it's fairly formal, so you should wear something nicer than that."

She gestured toward her sister's ensemble of a t-shirt with torn jeans and combat boots. Arya scowled but gave a nod of concession.

"Fine. 7:00 in a dress it is."

Arya saw her sister to the door and then waved her goodbye with a promise to be on time. When the door closed behind her, Sansa sighed heavily. She was beginning to think that she was going to regret what she had done.

In the span of three minutes, a car, a cab, and a motorcycle pulled up to Victoria's Pasta Shop, dropping off the four parties of that evening's blind double date. Sandor Clegane stood against the exterior wall, one foot propped against it as he absently scrolled through his phone, trying to keep his face turned down from view. He was wearing a suit, at Sansa's request, and felt supremely uncomfortable.

Jaqen H'ghar arrived next, looking far more at ease in his pressed three-piece suit. He stepped from the cab, tipping the driver handsomely and checking his watch before catching sight of Sandor and approaching him somewhat hesitantly. He didn't know the older man well or truly know why he had accepted when Sandor had approached him at his office the night before. He wasn't expecting to meet the love of his life, but where was the harm in trying?

The two men were saved from small talk by the arrival of their dates. Sansa walked over to Sandor and returned his crooked smile with one of her own, before gesturing to her sister. "Sandor, this is my sister, Arya. Arya, this is Sandor Clegane."

They exchanged nods of greeting as Sandor dug his hand from his pocket, waving a hand toward his companion. "Sansa, Jaqen H'ghar. Jaqen, Sansa Stark."

"Pleased to meet you," Sansa said timidly.

Jaqen smiled. "Likewise."

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Sansa led the way inside and they secured their table, ordering drinks before returning to silence once more. Sansa exchanged a glance with Sandor and he gave her a small shrug. Such was the nature of blind dates, they supposed.

When the drinks arrived, Sansa broke the silence. "So, Arya, I don't know if I've told you, but, Sandor is actually a boxing instructor at a gym downtown on the weekends." Arya raised her eyebrows and Sansa nodded encouragingly.

"Really?" She directed the question at Sandor and he nodded. "I've been taking boxing lessons for a few years now."

Satisfied that they had found something to discuss, Sansa turned to look at Jaqen. "Sandor said you're a surgeon?"

Jaqen sipped at his wine and nodded. "Yes. A plastic surgeon, with the Faceless Men. Where do you work?"

"Oh, um." Sansa hesitated, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I'm a fashion consultant with a magazine in the city. Highgarden. Do you know it?"

He shook his head, looking apologetic, and she nodded with a small sigh. After taking another drink of her wine she tried again.

"Have you had any clients you think I'd know? Anyone famous?" She asked it teasingly and was surprised when he answered in the affirmative.

"Yes, actually. I did some work for Beric Dondarrion."

"Oh?" Sansa deflated slightly and saw when she glanced sideways that Arya and Sandor had fallen back into silence. "I don't think I know him."

"He's the lead singer for a rock band," Jaqen replied. "They're called the Brotherhood Without Banners."

"Oh. I'm not really a rock fan."

Jaqen shrugged. "That's okay. Maybe they aren't as famous as I thought, but I've actually been to a few of their shows and I think they're rather—"

He was cut off by Arya, who leaned toward him with wide eyes. "Did you just say you've met Beric Dondarrion?"

Caught off guard, Jaqen stopped with his wine glass halfway to his lips. "Umm...yes." He set it down. "Yes, I did."

"Oh my god!" Arya squealed, a sound which Sansa had never thought she would hear out of her younger sister. Arya scooted her chair closer to Jaqen's and leaned forward on an elbow. "I've been to all of the Brotherhood's shows. They're my favorite band."

Jaqen's eyes lit up and he shifted unconsciously away from Sansa. "Really?"

They began an animated conversation about the nuances of rock music and Sansa turned away with a sigh, draining her glass of wine and looking over at Sandor. He gave her an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, little bird," he murmured. "Maybe this wasn't the best idea."

"No, it's okay," she soothed. "He's..." She hesitated and then settled lamely for an answer. "Handsome."

Sandor snorted and she hid a giggle behind her hand.

"Can't believe you two are sisters," he said, nodding in Arya's direction. He didn't fail to notice that her fingers had traveled to rest on Jaqen's arm, or that he hadn't moved away.

"Yes, we've always been...different." Sansa laughed quietly at Sandor's answering expression.

When the waiter arrived, Jaqen and Arya's conversation was interrupted and as they ordered they each returned to their original positions, looking sheepish as they realized they had been neglecting their respective dates. For a while, Sandor and Arya were able to make fun of Sansa, a comfortable middle ground they shared. Across the table, Sansa and Jaqen discussed their preference in television shows for as long as humanly possible, which, when they did not intersect at all, turned out to be approximately ten minutes.

As their conversations fell to their natural end, the food arrived, saving them from another uncomfortable silence.

"This is one of my favorite restaurants," Sansa said as she twirled her noodles around her fork. "I don't know if you've ever been, but, it's very good."

The others nodded in agreement as they began to eat and after a moment, Arya looked across the table. "I'm sorry, Jaqen, did I hear you telling Sansa that you just started watching Ozark?"

The innocuous question sent them headlong into another deep conversation and after a moment Sandor nudged Sansa's foot under the table. When she looked up, he cocked an eyebrow.

"What are your plans for the evening?"

"I thought I would take my date home for a night of intense passion." They both looked toward Jaqen and when he gave no indication of hearing her, Sansa shook her head in amusement. "Can't you tell we're hitting it off?"

Sandor chuckled and shrugged. "I thought I might go home and finally read that book you gave me."

Sansa raised her eyebrows. "Which one? I've given you a couple, none of which you've read yet."

He waved aside her complaint. "The most recent one. The Princess Bride? Sounds stupid but I've heard the movie's decent."

Sansa scoffed. "Decent? I'm offended."

Sandor smiled. "Well I haven't seen it, little bird. You'll have to educate me."

"Done. As soon as you've finished the book, you're coming straight over and we're going to watch it."

He nodded and pushed aside his empty plate. "Fine by me."

Sansa smiled happily and reached across the table to give his hand a quick squeeze of gratitude before flagging down a waiter for a to-go box.

When the check arrived they all paid separately and after it was settled they retrieved their coats and made their way back outside into the cold. Before either of the men could attempt an awkward goodbye, Arya linked her arm through Sansa's.

"Hey, Sans, can I talk to you for a second?" When Sansa nodded, she smiled at Jaqen and Sandor. "We'll be just a moment."

Once they were out of earshot, Arya glanced over her shoulder and Sansa's brow furrowed. "Arya, what is it?"

"Well..." she began hesitantly. "What did you think of Jaqen?"

Sansa couldn't help the knowing smile that formed in answer. "I thought he was just fine. Why?"

"Well, it's just..." Arya bit her lip and looked back at him again, the gesture becoming decidedly less innocent when he met her gaze. She turned back to Sansa, her cheeks tinted with an uncharacteristic flush. "I feel like we really hit it off, you know? And I mean...I don't want to...get in your way or anything. I mean, I know you've been feeling lonely since Harry left you, and I kinda feel bad for saying it, but..."

"But you really like him."

Arya sighed. "Yeah."

Sansa smiled and shrugged. "That's okay, Arya. Honestly. I don't mind."

Arya's expression turned hopeful, but she quickly schooled it. "Yeah? I mean, it's not like I'm going home with him tonight or anything, that would be a dick move on my part, but, I might...call him later."

Sansa laughed softly. "Good. I think you should. I think you two might make a good couple."

"Yeah?" She let her gaze wander over to him again. "Yeah..."

Shaking her head, Sansa put a hand on her sister's back and steered her back toward the men, whispering beside her ear as they approached. "I'm serious. You should go for it."

Sandor and Jaqen looked up as they approached and Sansa smiled politely. "Well, it's getting late and I need to work on a few things in the morning, so I'm going to head home. It was really nice to meet you, Jaqen."

"You too, Sansa," he replied, but his eyes didn't quite meet hers.

"I'm gonna head out too," Arya offered, sticking out a hand for Sandor to shake. "Good finally meeting you."

"Yeah," Sandor said, shaking her hand and then burying his hands back in his pockets. "Dinner was...good...too." Sansa cast him a glance and he shrugged helplessly.

A cab turned the far corner and Jaqen stepped to the curb and extended a hand as he waved. "Have a good rest of your evening. I need to get a cab."

The taxi pulled to the curb and as Jaqen opened the back door, Arya looked toward her sister. "Well, I drove with Sansa, so if she's heading home, then uh, I need one too." She ducked in and then stuck her hand back out the window and waved. "Night, Sans!"

Before Sandor or Sansa could respond, they cab had pulled away, leaving the two of them alone. Sandor watched it go in bewilderment and Sansa laughed.

"Well that...didn't go as planned."

Sandor nodded in agreement and scuffed the toe of his shoe against the sidewalk for a moment before looking back at Sansa.

"How are you feeling? I know you don't want me to wait another minute to read that silly book of yours, but, do you want to come over for a bit first?"

Sansa hesitated, considering the offer, then nodded. "If you don't mind."

Sandor returned the gesture, looking relieved, and he walked her to her car before hopping on his motorcycle and starting the engine. With a wave, he pulled out and started off in the direction of her apartment. After a moment, wondering what she was intending to do, Sansa followed.

"What if they end up getting married and it's all because you don't like rock music and I don't watch gritty crime dramas?"

Sansa sighed and joined Sandor in the kitchen, gratefully taking a beer when he handed one to her and leaning against the counter across from him. "I don't know about getting married, but knowing my sister she's already gotten off all three pieces of that suit by now."

Sandor snorted in amusement and loosened his tie. "Wouldn't mind getting out of my own. I did it for you, little bird, but suits are damned uncomfortable."

"But you look so handsome!" she protested, running her hand down one of the lapels and then moving away to offer a twirl.

"What did you think of my dress? It's new."

It was a pale blue that brought out her eyes and fell just above her knees, giving just the slightest suggestion of what was beneath every time it swished across her thighs. Sandor had noticed it the moment she'd arrived and hadn't thought of much else since.

"It looks good."

Sansa wrinkled her nose and stopped mid-twirl in front of him, close enough that she had to crane her neck to frown up at him. She had already had enough wine for her head to feel pleasantly fuzzy and the twirl had her head spinning.

"Just 'good'?"

Sandor washed down the sudden lump in his throat with a long drink of beer and then set the bottle down on the counter, meeting her gaze squarely and shaking his head.

"No, you're right. It's better than that. It reminds me of what you were wearing when we first met. You look..." He hesitated, his mind hazy from her sudden proximity and before he could help it, the words came out. "Fucking beautiful, Sansa."

"Fucking beautiful?" She echoed his words in a whisper, and though he knew she meant it to be teasing, he couldn't help his reaction to hearing a genuine swear from the lips of perfect and proper Sansa Stark.

Sansa looked up at him, leaning closer, and didn't miss the way his eyes darkened. She knew she was already tipsy and was perhaps projecting her fantasies onto her current situation, but she had just spent the evening being inadvertently rejected by her blind date who was, she was almost certain, currently in bed with her sister. If she was going to throw caution to the wind, now was as good a time as ever.

The same progression of thoughts crossed Sandor's mind as she looked at him and at the same moment that she stood on her toes he leaned down to meet her, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist as hers slipped around his neck.

Their lips met clumsily at first and Sansa reveled in the strange feeling of his half-burnt mouth against her own. She had imagined it for years, but in the moment it was even better than she had expected and by the time he lifted her onto the counter and her legs found their way around his waist, her tongue had found its way between his lips.

As Sansa grinded her hips instinctually against his Sandor groaned, pulling away to pant heavily and lick his way across her jaw to her neck. Sansa's eyes fluttered open and she was met with the full reality of the situation when she saw their reflection in the kitchen window behind Sandor.

She stilled, frozen with Sandor's lips on her throat and her hands on his ass. "Wait. What are we doing?" she whispered. "This is..."

Their eyes met for a long moment before Sandor spoke, his voice low and rough. "Please don't say a mistake. I've been waiting seven years for this. It's not something I want you to regret in the morning."

"No," Sansa replied softly. She leaned up to kiss him again and his nostrils flared when her hands slipped beneath his jeans. "Not that. It's just crazy. You're my best friend. I set you up on a date tonight. With my sister!"

"We never would've worked out," Sandor assured her, running a thumb across her collarbone to the curve of her cleavage. "I'm too hung up on a different Stark."

Sansa sighed and pulled him back to her with a hand around his neck, kissing him deeply as her free hand worked his belt through its buckle. When her fingers brushed against the bulge at the front of his dress pants he broke away, dropping his head to her shoulder.

"Fuck, Sansa," he murmured. "Is this real? Are you real?"

She hummed quietly and led one of his hands beneath her dress, moaning and arching into him when his fingers pushed aside her panties and found her slick with arousal. "Do I feel real?"

Swearing softly, Sandor dropped to his knees in front of her, holding her down with a hand on her stomach when she made to lower herself off of the counter. "Stay there," he commanded. "I want to taste you."

Sansa's cheeks flushed, but she obeyed, laying back flat on the counter and bracing her feet against his back. He kept his eyes on hers as he tossed her panties in the living room and then buried his face between her thighs. He inhaled deeply and when his tongue flicked across her clit, Sansa gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair. Joffrey and Harry had certainly never done that.

"God I've never been so glad to be rejected in my life," Sansa said, panting, her hips bucking hard against his nose as he brought her closer and closer to her building orgasm with each sweep of his tongue. She could feel Sandor smile a moment before he responded.

"Don't think the pretty surgeon would get on his knees for you?"

She laughed breathlessly, the sound melting into a low moan. "I suppose I can ask Arya in the morning."

Chuckling, Sandor pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh and stood again, making her whine in protest.

"I can't wait any longer, little bird," he whispered lowly, in answer to her frustrated pout. "I need to be inside you."

Sansa nodded in agreement, holding onto him for support as she lowered herself to the floor and led him to her bedroom. When they reached the doorway he swept her up into his arms and tossed her onto the bed as she shrieked with laughter. He joined her with an answering grin and brought their lips together again, pressing her into the mattress and turning her laughter to a breathless moan.

Pulling away, she sat up and tugged off his tie and dress shirt impatiently, running her hands across his chest when he was bared to her touch. As he stood to fumble with his trousers she pulled her dress off over her head and tossed it aside with her bra, settling back against her pillows as she watched him stumble back toward her.

"I've wanted you for so long," she confessed, grazing her nails lightly down his back as he positioned himself between her thighs.

"Then I'm the luckiest bastard in the world, Sansa Stark," he answered, kissing the tip of her nose.

Before he could move, she laid a hand gently on his chest, looking up into his eyes. "Sandor, what...what does this mean? What...what is this?"

He smiled softly and shrugged, running his thumb across her cheek. "It's us," he answered. "For now, that's all that matters. Just you and me. When morning comes, we'll worry about the rest."

As he filled her, and held her, and kissed her, and loved her, it was enough. They were enough.

And when morning came, worry was the last thing they did.