Arya Stark sat perched in her window seat, absentmindedly nibbling away at the chipped black nail polish on her fingernails while flipping through her biology text book, trying not to think about how much better life would be if she burned the damn thing.

"Out," she snapped, not even looking up. Her half brother, Jon, gave a sputter of disbelief.

"How did you even hear me?" He demanded. "I wore extra thick socks and applied every ninja skill I posses. I swear you have a hidden camera somewhere."

"No hidden camera," she said, turning a page in her book, "just saw your reflection in the window."

"Unbelievable," Jon said with a chuckle. "No wonder you're so good at sneaking out."

"Yeah, and no wonder you're so bad at it. Tell me, has there even been one time you were successful before mom caught you?" she snorted, giving her older brother a patronizing look. Jon crossed his arms, looking smug.

"What?" Arya demanded, knowing that look only meant trouble.

"It's just... I wouldn't really be bragging if I were you," he said casually, admiring the set of pictures on her dresser.

"What?" she said, more sharply this time, snapping her book closed.

"Dad came home from the conference early," Jon said with a smile as Arya's face began to turn white. "Five in the morning, to be precise. And your car wasn't there."

"Fuck!" she shrieked, tossing the book aside and leaping for her shoes, which were strewn about the room.

"He wasn't too pleased to say the least, wanted to talk to you this morning, but Robert called him in, so he had to leave," Jon said, and she noted with dissatisfaction the look of amusement on his face.

"Where is he?" She demanded through gritted teeth, forcing her red high tops on and then racing to her closet, snatching out a jean jacket.

"You know where he is," Jon said, giving her a pointed look.

"YOU TOLD HIM?" She screeched.

"No," Jon said at once, "I'm not a snitch. It was Sansa."

"Just wait 'till I get my hands on her," Arya muttered darkly, fishing around her bag for her car keys. "She is so dead."

"Yeah, and Gendry will be too if you don't hurry," Jon said seriously. "Go save his life, will you? He said I could use his flat this weekend."

"Yeah right," Arya scoffed, already half way out the door, "like any of us are getting out of the house after this."

And with that, she sprinted out of the house, leaped into her car and speed like mad towards the Forge.

Work had never been Gendry's favorite thing, but going to work with a massive hangover was torture. His head pounding, he decided to take a well deserved break, ducking into the dark, cool office for a moments peace without the blaring of cheesy 80's music his boss, Yoren, insisted was 'the classics.'

It wasn't that he didn't like his job, Gendry told himself as he sat down in Yoren's chair, closing his eyes. In fact, he loved his job. He loved working with metal, with cars. The Forge was his home (it was true, he spent more time there than his apartment, which seemed to be constantly occupied by a different Stark family member anyway, non of which was the one he actually wanted to be there). The complaining voice inside his head was probably the hangover.

He let out a groan in spite of himself. He hadn't meant to get pissed, he really hadn't. But his dad just drove him to such madness that the only thing that seemed to quench the rage inside him was alcohol.

Robert Baratheon, of Stag industries, the even mention of him made Gendry want to vomit. He hated him, the man who was famous for sleeping around and being a fat drunk, but still managed to be the most powerful and rich man around. The man who hadn't even bothered to help out his mom with child support when he had millions and she was scrapping just to fed them. The man who hadn't even bothered to come to her funeral. Even now it filled him with a boiling rage.

Lucky Arya had been there though. She always had a habit of finding him out. Sometimes he wondered if she had installed an ankle bracelet on him or something, because it seemed that once he got even the slightest bit of alcohol in himself, she was there, keys in hand, ready to drive him home because he couldn't drive himself. Somehow, she just always knew. He didn't question it. It sort of came with the best friend category.

She never spent the night though. Usually she just dumped him on his doorstep without so much as a goodbye. But this morning had been different. He had been shocked when he woke up, face sticking to the leather of his couch, to see her in his flat, perched on the top of his sofa chair, looking through his CD's.

He had groaned, pulling himself up, his mouth tasting foul as he wiped the stream of drool from his face. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed she hadn't just been rifling through his CD's, but his collection of video games as well. They were scattered on the floor around her, along with some of his CD's. She kept chucking them over her shoulder.

"Not bad," she said idly, lazily depositing another CD on the floor. Gendry blinked, rubbing his eyes.

"Whatareyoudoinghere?" he moaned, barely understandable, his tongue dry in his mouth. She didn't answer, but instead flipped over one of his CD cases, reading the back.

"Coffee's almost ready," she said instead, setting that CD aside.

Gendry blinked again, narrowing his eyes at her. Was that his band shirt she was wearing?

"What are you doing here?" He asked again, this time more clearly.

"You seemed pretty pissed," she said, shrugging and hopping off the chair, "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Sighing, he got to his feet, staggering a bit.

"Don't lie," he said, practically crawling to the kitchenette, "you've left me on my doorstep in worse conditions. I remember one time I passed out at a party and woke up on my doorstep, literally on the doorstep. You could have dragged me inside, you know."

She let out a long sigh.

"Fine," she snapped curtly. "I stayed because I knew what day it was."

"Oh? And what day was that?" He demanded, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"The day your mum died three years ago."

The words hit him harder than he had expected. He was surprised, and almost touched that she had remembered. He was even more surprised, and still more touched that she had taken it upon herself to look after him. It was almost something a girlfrien-

"You've got some impressive collections," Arya said, quickly changing the subject and hoping up onto a barstool.

"Yeah?" He said, taking a sip of coffee. "What other stuff have you been through?"

"Just your porn collection."

He spat the coffee all over her face, nearly dropping the cup, coughing madly, as she let out a yell of disgust, leaping from the barstool to avoid his spray.

"You WHAT?"

"Oh yuck! Gendry you idiot!" She yelled, shaking coffee off her arms and running to get a towel to wipe herself off.

"THAT'S PRIVATE!" Gendry shouted, snatching back the towel to wipe off the counter, his face burning with humiliation.

"Oh honestly," she snapped, shaking droplets of coffee off his band shirt, "it wasn't like I was looking for it. I just went to your dresser to look for something to change into for bed and it was just there."

He couldn't even look at her he was so humiliated. Sometimes, he just wanted to kill Arya Stark.

"Don't look so embarrassed," she said, sounding almost put out. "Yours isn't nearly as bad as Jon's."

"Jon's?" Gendry choked out, still coughing slightly.

"Yeah, remember when he took that purity pledge? It was the worst. He was in such a bad mood all the time. Anyway, I went to burrow a sweater from him one time, and I happened across it. Honestly! If you lot don't want it to be found, you should hide it better. At least put it under the bed or something! Mum found it a week later. You should have heard the screaming," Arya said very quickly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Gendry couldn't help it, he chuckled.

"You should have seen it," she said. "You would have laughed. Robb, Bran and I took the mickey out him for ages until he hooked up with Ygritte."

"Yeah, I bet you did," Gendry said into his coffee, taking another swig.

"I won't do that to you though," she said at once, almost sounding frightened.

"S'all right," Gendry sighed, waving her off. "Maybe you've just given me the solution to my problem. Maybe I just need to be like Jon and get myself a girlfriend."

He had meant it as a joke, so he hadn't expected to look up and see Arya looking furious with herself, glaring at him. An awkward silence settled in, and he had no clue what to say, but then she seemed to shake whatever was bothering her off.

"Whatever," she said dismissively. "I should get going. My Dad's coming home this afternoon from his business trip in King's Landing, and I don't think he'd enjoy knowing I spent the night at some strange man's house, even if I'm seventeen."

"Especially since you're seventeen, I reckon," Gendry said, tipping his coffee cup to her before padding to the fridge in search of food.

"I made you some toast," she said curtly as she walked towards his room, where her cloths probably were. "I'd have made you eggs, but you said they make you sick when you're hungover."

It had been good toast too, and had stayed down. As he sighed in the cool of the office, Gendry couldn't help but wonder why he had chosen to wear this shirt, as it still reeked of coffee, so much so that it was making his head spin.

Suddenly, the door to the office banged open and Gendry let out a yell, leaping to his feet so violently that he almost fell over.

"Are you Gendry Waters?" A cold voice asked, and Gendry felt his heart drop.

He was face to face with Eddard Stark, the head of the Wolf branch in Stag industries. Right-hand man to his father, Robert Baratheon.

Gendry had never met Ned, funnily enough. His father never invited him to anything, not even family holiday gatherings. There was a real possibility that Ned had no clue that Gendry was even Robert's son, but if that were the case, then why would he be here? And why would he be looking so murderous? Gendry knew it couldn't be good, whatever the case.

He also knew it would be a very, very bad idea to lie and say no, Ned Stark must be mistaken, he was not Gendry Waters. Ned was respected and loved, and had a reputation for being a good man, but he also had a reputation for being a man that was not to be trifled with.

"Yes," Gendry croaked out, feeling his tongue suddenly incapable of working properly.

Ned's eyes sparked in fury.

"You!" he shouted. "Keep your filthy, perverted hands off my daughter!"

Gendry jumped as Ned jabbed his finger at him, as if to run him through. He almost felt it to, a pang in his chest as his heart beat wildly.

"Sir, there's no need, I can explain-"

"You can explain nothing!" Ned Stark roared, effectively cutting Gendry off. "You'll be lucky if I don't press charges, you sick bastard! Do you know how old she is?"

"Seventeen," Gendry said before he could stop himself, instantly regretting it.

"Seventeen!" Ned Stark bellowed, loud enough to wake the dead. "And I will not have some greasy, uneducated-"

"I'm not uneducated!" Gendry shouted, his temper flaring as well.

"-white-trash loser violating her!"

"DAD!"

Both men whipped around to see Arya standing in the door way of the office looking murderous. Behind her all the workers in the shop had gathered around, craning to see what was going on.

"Is there a problem here, sir?" Yoren asked, poking his head in, giving Gendry a questioning look. Gendry shook his head.

"No," Arya snapped before her father could answer. "This will only take up a moment of Gendry's time, if that's all right."

"S'ppose," Yoren said, shooting Gendry another regretful look before slouching out, glaring at Ned Stark as he did so, no doubt perturbed that his afternoon nap had been disturbed.

"Dad," Arya said quickly, "don't be mad."

"Don't be mad?" Ned Stark raged, shooting daggers at Gendry. "Don't be mad?"

"Oh honestly Dad! It's nothing!"

"NOTHING?" Ned Stark bellowed, his voice ringing in Gendry's ears. "Your safety is not nothing!"

"We're not having sex, if that's what you're worried about," Arya said flippantly, crossing her arms over her chest. Her father gave a visible wince at the word 'sex'.

"Yeah," Gendry said quickly, cutting in, "and I'd never ever think of Arya in that way anyway. I have a girlfriend."

It was a lie, obviously, both parts, but he figured it could only help him in his case that Ned Stark should not kill him because he had not touched Arya. No matter how much he sometimes wanted to. No, not that last part. Definitely not that last part. What was he even thinking? It was probably the hangover again.

He had thought that Arya would be pleased with him for coming up with something so clever (it was working too, Ned Stark was looking increasingly relieved), but she wasn't. There was no mistaking the look of hurt and betrayal that flashed across her face.

"You do?" Ned Stark said, rocking back on his feet and almost loosing about four inches in height, even letting a ghost of a relieved smile pass over his face.

"Yeah," Arya said quietly, shifting from foot to foot and looking down, "we're just friends."

"Friends?" Ned Stark repeated, as if seeing whether or not he liked the taste.

"Yeah," Gendry said. "Yeah, umm actually, it's sort of funny, but Robert Baratheon's my dad."

Ned had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"Of course he is!" he said. "I'm sorry, I came down here in such a hurry, I really only had one thing on my mind, which reminds me, Arya, where were you last night?"

Arya's eyes flickered to Gendry.

"I umm, had a little too much to drink," she lied easily. "Gendry took me back to his place to sleep it off. Nothing happened Dad, I swear. I'm still a virgin, you can check."

Ned blanched and Gendry felt his cheeks explode in a blush. She was a virgin? Well, it figured, she'd never had a boyfriend. Still, it was easy to forget that Arya often acted like she knew more than she did.

"I don't think that's necessary," Ned said hastily, frowning, "but Arya, we've talked about this. You promised me you wouldn't drink anymore."

She shrugged.

"I slipped up," she said, refusing to look at Gendry.

Ned sighed.

"I have half a mind to ground you," he said, causing Arya to look distressed, "but I doubt that'll do any good. You'll just sneak out anyway. So I'll make a compromise. You have to go to prom-"

"No! Dad!"

"-and you have to go to the awards banquet, AND the end of the year banquet!"

"UGH!" Arya cried out, stamping her feet comically. "DAD!"

Ned looked like he was fighting the urge to laugh.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," he said, "maybe this will convince you to keep your promises."

There was an awkward silence where Gendry desperately tried to catch Arya's eye, to silently thank her, but she was avoiding his gaze.

"Well," Ned Stark said, clapping his hands with a sense of awkwardness and bravado, "Gendry, I'm sure you have to get back to work."

"Yes," Gendry said, running a hand through his matted black hair.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Ned said, looking embarrassed. "It's obvious that you're, erm, a good friend to Arya."

"Yeah," Gendry said stupidly, "yeah we're good mates."

Arya gave a snort of laughter which she quickly disguised as a cough.

"Well," Ned said, putting a hand on his daughter's back to steer her out, "we best be off. Nice to meet you, Gendry."

"Same," Gendry said, cursing himself again for sounding like such a dolt. Ned gave him an incredulous look as he left, as though he couldn't quiet believe his clever, quick-witted daughter chose to hand around a dirty mechanic.

You aren't the only one, Gendry thought, rubbing his hands over his face. You aren't the only one