He had BARELY dozed off! Barely - as in his mind was JUST lingering in that lovely in between place on the edge of a really good, refreshing sleep after his body had well and truly pushed beyond the curtain and was very happily soaking up the complete satiation of being well fucked - repeatedly, and now cuddled. When there was some sort of cacophony of exploding fury at the fucking door. He wrapped her in his arms and rolled, tucking her well and truly under himself, his heart racing like a rabbit on the run. His instincts honed to react, protect, assess, kill. He pressed a finger to her lips and listened to the banging and cursing and then groaned as his mind caught on. She wasn’t in ‘danger’ from some enemy insurgent. She wasn’t under attack necessarily speaking. No one was ‘breaking in’ to her apartment - strictly speaking. He leaned in a kissed her quickly. Ignoring the curious way she kept blinking at him. He wasn’t about to explain a fucking thing. And pulled back to sit and search out his underwear. “I should answer that.”
He snorted rudely and almost cheered when he found them poking out from under the bed, and proceeded to pull them up before standing and pointing a menacing finger at her adorable little nose. She was beautiful, even well fucked, sleepy and feigning haughty amusement to hide the confusion and vulnerability under the surface. “I’m answering that. Do you often answer the door to angry men in the dark of night?” He relaxed his hand at her wincing and patted her hair gently in almost an apologetic manner as she sat, tucking her knees to her chest and pulling the sheet around herself in a protective manner. He relaxed his stance so he didn’t scare her, but his rage was rapidly growing, and tipping over as the banging started anew. “My shirt is...” He reached out and snagged it off the blanket box at the foot of the bed and held it out awkwardly. “Just here. Better than a sheet hmm? At least if I need you to run and hide in the bathroom? It’s still only me who knows what this beautiful body looks like bare hmm? Less chances tripping too.”
He kissed her head hard and stalked off. More than a little concerned, and absolutely lost to his anger and frustration and instincts. He was supposed to be enjoying the influx of very different hormones and chemical reactions in his brain in that moment. He didn’t do more than note a single person through the peephole. It’s all he needed to know. He whipped the door open wide, grabbed the rude fucker by the front of his shirt, dragged him through the open door, kicking it shut as he did - just in case he wasn’t actually alone, and slammed him into the bricks beside the heavy door. No wonder he reacted as he had! He didn’t notice on his way in - though he had been rather nicely distracted too! The door was curiously? Industrial steel. It soothed the beast inside him, a little. To know that no one was getting in that door, had he not ‘let’ them. Even if it was a curious design choice. Though it fit with the exposed bricks and the steal beams he supposed.
“Stop fighting and carrying on. I can kill you a number of ways without having to reach for a weapon at all. Actually? Could be more than that? I’ve never tested the robot hand out?” He ignored the scoffing and renewed, rage filled carry on. It would do the idiot no good, he had his face and chest pinned to the bricks and his arm twisted back so he couldn’t actually move. “Seriously? You want to keep fighting? Very well. Have at it. I can wait.”
He knew who it was. He wasn’t a complete idiot. Didn’t mean he wasn’t going to play the unexpectedly menacing ‘victim’ of a home invasion here. Even if it was purely to prove himself willing and capable of protecting her, and as an ego boost for himself. As well a just a little bit of revenge for triggering an ALMOST episode at all, let alone in front of the girl he spent all night inside of and unexpectedly developing a curiosity over. “Robb? Are you kidding me? Jaime let him go.” He snorted rudely at his lover and cocked a brow. “Let the raging lunatic who woke us up before sunrise go? Not a chance little wolf. I’d prefer to not have to kill him for scaring you or worse. He stays exactly where he is until he calms down.”
“Don’t be ridiculous Lannister. He’s my brother, he won’t hurt me.” He snorted rudely and cocked a brow at her, more than a little amused, despite his still, very present anger, at her rolling her eyes and strutting into the kitchenette to flick the coffee maker on, wearing nothing but his shirt and a lacy scrap of wannabe panties over her perky little ass, that he absolutely would be stealing at some point.
“Sansa? Call your guard dog off. I’m not going to fucking hurt my sister. It’s you I want Lannister.” He snorted rudely again and cocked his head at the idiot, taking in his red face and the fire still burning bright in those Tully eyes. “How’s that working out for you champ? You stay there until the GUARD DOG is satisfied that your anger is abating and my girl there isn’t in any danger from an obviously controlling, potentially dangerous, raging family member.” Sansa sighed dramatically behind him, he could even see her closing her eyes in exasperation with BOTH of their posturing. But he was serious. The power dynamics weren’t in her favour, and if her brother willingly travelled all the way to her door in through the dead of the night and carried on as he had once he arrived? He didn’t respect her at all either. Combinations bordering abuse of another kind. The kind HE KNEW WELL, after years of suffering it. And it was only a small leap from emotional to physical abuse, especially when there was no attempt to curtail such heavy emotions. He didn’t doubt she understood that’s exactly what her family were guilty of there, he didn’t doubt that like him, she simply accepted it and found ways around it rather than taking them to task. But he wasn’t going to risk it turning physical when he could prevent it.
“You have to be fucking kidding me? You have the hide to question ME? You taking advantage of my drunk sister is the whole reason I’m here! I’m not the danger here! You are!” He leaned in close to his ear with a low growl. “I’m not the one scaring her you fucking idiot. I’m not the one disrespecting or disregarding or belittling and judging her or her choices. Think about it? You flew here in the middle of the night - over a half the continent in distance, and banged on her door like a complete asshole, scaring the seven hells out of her, and you are currently making assumptions on what she wants and needs. I’m not the danger here. I didn’t do a damned thing I didn’t have consent for asshole.”
“Jaime? Let him go. He isn’t going to physically hurt me. If he looks like doing so? You may intervene. Robb? Any menacing, chest puffing ridiculousness at either myself or MY GUEST? And I call a friend of mine at KLPD and I’ll make sure that the media gets wind of it too. Coffee is there. SIT! AWAY FROM EACH OTHER.”
He didn’t want to. Not even a little bit. But he did as she asked. Noting the slight waiver in her ice cold voice. She was angry, yes. VERY. But she was also hurt. Having clearly read the same implications he did. They had known that they were stirring the pot, that WAS kind of the point. Yet it was clear as the first rays of sun breaking outside the bank of windows along the outer wall of the studio she lived in, that she hadn’t expected THIS. He let go slowly and turned the man child to shove him towards the kitchen island pointedly, and well out of reach from a flying swing, and took up post, with his folded arms over his chest, leaning back into the bricks he had just had the idiot pinned. He knew he was a soldier too, if he hadn’t been aware of it beforehand, laying eyes on him would have told him anyway. His stance and posture was a dead give away. Jaime was just a faster, slightly more experienced one. And he had learned long ago, to channel and control his own emotions, so he didn’t make blustering, and foolish mistakes anymore. Not as Robb Stark had just done at any rate.
“Go and put pants on Lannister.” He clenched his jaw tight and cocked his head in arrogant dismissal of her command. He wasn’t taking his eyes off of her brother and she would just have to accept that as fact. Which she did apparently, grumbling and gesticulating at him dramatically as she stomped back towards the bed. He held the little bastards eye though, refusing to back down. Even though he could both hear her muttering and ratting about, and see her out of the corner of his eye searching out pants for the both of them. He nodded in thanks when she shoved his pants at him and pulled them on quickly. Still refusing to take his eyes off the still VERY angry Stark primed and honed at the counter, still taking note of her frustration and anger and embarrassment, in her every gesture as she grabbed up her own coffee cup and turned to glare at her brother. And he probably should be uncomfortable about the whole ridiculous situation! He likely should be getting ready to slink off into the lingering shadows of the final moments of the ‘night’. Except that he was NOT about to abandon her to the unexpected results of THEIR actions, anymore than he was going to actually crawl away like she really was a genuine one night stand. They BOTH knew long before they left that bar, that it would never be that between people like them. Even if it was JUST sex.
“Explain yourself. Now.”
“ME? I’m not the one whoring myself out, shaming our family AND making it public knowledge!” He growled low in his throat and pinned the little bastard with wildfire eyes. But he didn’t move, even if he was set to do so, and do so quickly. “Call her a whore again and I’ll break that pretty face open asshole.” He may look calm and even nonchalant. His words may have been delivered in a falsely easy manner. But he was ready to take the arrogant little fuckers head clean off for how he was carrying on at his sister. “Jaime? Enough. Tell me why you are here Robb, or get out and come back when you can speak civilly. Those are your only options.” The fool looked like he had been slapped. Apparently he was unused to his sister speaking for herself. “Civil? You expect me to be CIVIL? Do you hav any IDEA what your little game here has caused? Our MOTHER is pitching a fit hard enough to bring The Wall down, and our FATHER was immediately dragged into conference calls with Robert Baratheon and Tywin Fucking Lannister! There are media rats calling the house and staking out the gates of Winterfell! And that was within HOURS of your post! You wouldn’t answer your phone!” He let out a dark, rueful laugh and cracked his neck. Of course they had all overreacted. How utterly ridiculous they all were. “The media would have left you all well enough alone, had you not carried on like idiots over something that is NONE of you concern. I can almost see at least one headline now! STARKS GOING INTO A FRENZIED MADNESS BECAUSE ELDEST DAUGHTER MAKES HER OWN CHOICES LIKE A GROWN WOMAN.”
“Fuck You, Lannister!” He grinned wickedly. “I prefer my Starks a little less hostile, but I’m flattered.”
“JAIME! SHUT UP!” He cocked a brow at the victorious sneer on the idiots face. He was going to break his nose. At least. Maybe knock out a few teeth for good measure. “He’s being a dick right now? But he’s also RIGHT Robb! I’m an adult, and I can actually choose who I sleep with, contrary to popular belief!” He scoffed harshly and glared at the both! Were they fucking serious? “You DO realise that YOU are the ONLY ONE who should be deciding who you sleep with? Tell me you understand that Sansa - or so help me, I won’t be responsible for what I do to your brother and any other family member who thinks they have a right to have a say in that!”
“You! STAY OUT OF IT!” The attempts to look intimidating pissed him off more than being commanded by this little boy, playing at being a man. He was going to kick his ass. “You are getting dangerously close to learning exactly why it is, I have the reputation I do you arrogant little fuck.”
He leaned back again and sipped at his coffee silently. He would respect her right to speak for herself, but he was not going to stay silent on such blatant disrespect and malice being thrown at her either. Curious, how invested he had managed to become in Stark affairs. “Now? Let me clarify a few things. DID Dad send you here, and was he actually angry about having to speak with Mr. Lannister and Mr. Baratheon?” He growled low and subdued what wanted to be an explosive reaction, forcing the boy into hissing his answer through clenched teeth instead. “He did not send me, he didn’t HAVE TO. But he was angry.” Sansa nodded deftly and sipped at her own cup, clearly thinking over his answer. “Did he react in anyway that was indicative of his having come to ANY sort of conclusion before you went off on your own tangent and booked a flight here?”
“No.” She hummed in cocky and condescending affirmation. And he was struck once more, but just how switched on the sex rumpled beauty before him was. She had her brother on the hook and he didn’t even know it. “Does. He. know. You. Are. Here?” He didn’t need to answer. The angry glare was all she needed. “I see. But our Mother does?” He nodded. “Of course she does. Because me choosing to sleep with someone of my own choosing, rather than the despicable lech that she was not so subtly handing me over to, all wrapped up in a lucrative Stark Industries contract, wasn’t what she expected. I stepped out of line and you were sent to pull me back into it, before my acting an adult with free will, costs the company an investor contract, because I jeopardised some of the merchandise huh?”
“What the fuck did you just say?” He saw red. Surely she wasn’t serious? Surely not? He could the blood surging through him, burning hot with a rage unlike most he had known. He could feel his fingers tingling - even the ghost fingers of his long since amputated hand. “Don’t be ridiculous Sansa! You’re carrying on as if our MOTHER is soliciting you out to the highest bidder! What RUBBISH! What she is doing? Is worrying, as Mothers are WANT TO DO, over their child’s poor choices! And HE is a poor choice! Just like every other fucking scumbag you’ve DATED! Of course she’d encourage a decent relationship if the option to do so came up!”
“Was encouraging you to date Roslin Frey, even though you were in a stable and happy relationship at the time, not the same thing? Did you know that this apartment was supposed to be leased for a full six months, whilst I - me, who isn’t actually trained or ‘experienced’ enough to be meeting and negotiating with investors yet, set to work with a particular investor who happens to have an unmarried son, for up to six months, on something that should be done and dusted in one? Did you KNOW that the two actual ex-boyfriends I have, that I know the be those you are referring to with your little spiel about MY POOR CHOICES, were the only relationships I’ve had her approval and encouragement for? You DO know it was Aunt Lysa who introduced me to Harry right?” He was seething. Robb Stark looked like he’d been slapped. “She said you were getting along really well with some guy here. Said that he was all you spoke of. And that you going home drunk with Lannister would ruin it.” Sansa snorted rudely and nodded, staring hard out the bank of windows as the morning sun painting the city scape pinks and oranges and purples. “And there it is. Confirmation.” He swallowed hard and followed, glaring hard at the idiot who thought to get in his way, as she pressed her coffee cup to her chest and her forehead to the cool glass of the window.
“Giles Rosby is his name, and he is the son of Vic Rosby, whom I have been negotiating with this week. And YES, I have spoken of him, because he is a vile, despicable bastard whom I overheard boasting to his coworkers how he intends to ‘break in’ the only acceptable term of offer, Stark Industries has made. Can you GUESS what that might imply brother? Because I can. Especially if you seem to be under the misguided notion that I have any interest in ANY man in this city - besides the one you’ve been carrying on like a right fool in front of?” He didn’t give the idiot a chance to react at all. Obviously he heard her, from the look of horror and disbelief and pure judgement on his face. He also didn’t know what to actually think or believe. Jaime didn’t fucking care. He was reeling. She had made it obvious that she was using him to piss her family off. Just as he was using her for the same. But that was before he realised the depth of betrayal she was weathering too.
“Fuck you. Sansa? Talk to me?” He looked over at her in question, hesitating only long enough for her to acknowledge his look. And then he cursed softly at her denying him his silent request to forcibly remove her prick of a brother, and stalked over to the bedside table and took up his phone. Not even blinking before hitting the contact he did and pressing it to his ear. His place or not? His business or not? This ended immediately. The phone line clicked almost before it rang. “Good Of you to get back to me. Now explain yourself.” He sneered in annoyance and rolled his eyes. “I’ll come see you later. For now? I need all you can tell me about a Vic Rosby and his son Giles. Get me that information, and keep Joffrey and Cersei leashed and well away from Sansa Stark - and myself if they know what’s good for them? And I’ll come talk to you directly. I’ll even weather a phone call from Stark for you. Deal?”
“I have questions.”
“I’ll answer them later.”
“Deal. I’ll get Varys to email you what he finds.”
He sighed heavily and tossed his phone onto the still mussed bedding pointedly, before meeting two sets of incredulous Tully eyes. One curiously astonished, the other obviously offended at his high handed behaviour. “Get comfortable Stark. And it goes without saying, but upset her again? And I won’t wait for her permission as I have been doing up until this point. I believe we mentioned breakfast little wolf? Let’s eat whilst we wait hmm?” He clapped his hands and strolled to the kitchen. Not nearly as carefree and relaxed as he was putting across. This was absolutely NOT what he had intended when he walked into that bar. But it certainly was the ‘war’ they joked about starting, he supposed. Luckily? He was rather adept at war. And a pretty girl, who was incredible in the sack and could actually make him laugh was as good a reason as any he supposed. “That was your Father wasn’t it?” He hummed in affirmation and turned his attention to the fridge. He didn’t WANT to think on his complete turnaround in attitude. He didn’t want to explain why he had dismissed his own anger at his Father, to deal with her situation for her. He just wanted to eat breakfast with her and go back to bed, also with her. Except that it wouldn’t be happening now. “I’m not seeing bacon in here Stark?”
“And you won’t because I don’t have any.”
“Well? I suppose you were bound to have some flaws - besides the overbearing and intrusive and judgemental brother that is. Eggs without bacon it is I guess.”