@blackdyed - Meg! Ahhhhhhhhhh! You are so TALENTED! I am blown away by all of your gorgeous art! I am in awe of your artistic ideas and how you make them come to life in your art. Thank you for chatting with me and being so helpful and caring. You are FANTASTIC! <3!
for @blackdyed
Sansa Stark/Tyrion Lannister
966 words
Rated T
In a Fog
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When his phone rang, Tyrion wasn’t expecting to see her number when he looked at the phone screen. He actually wasn’t expecting anyone to ring him on Valentine’s Day, but the very last person he expected to see ringing him was Sansa.
They’d broken up. For good, according to her.
She’d finally realized she was too good for him. Or as she’d put it, she’d finally realized ‘what was truly important’ to him. That part was all bollocks, of course. She had been truly important to him, but he was shit at showing it.
Whatever the reason, she’d gotten sick of his garbage and left him. Smartest thing she’d ever done, really. But that had been nearly two weeks before. And she had kept her word on her promise to never ring him again.
But here she was, ringing him.
It was probably a pocket dial. He’d answer it and get treated to an earful of her with her new man. But instead of ignoring, he answered anyway. Because Tyrion was nothing if not a glutton for punishment.
“Hello?” he said uncertainly.
“Tyrion! You picked up!” Sansa sounded happy to hear his voice.
“Indeed, what’s going--”
“I gotta favour to ashk ya, Tyr…” she slurred. He suddenly understood. She was clearly drunk. At two in the afternoon. On Valentine’s Day.
Frowning, he responded. “What is it?”
“My mouth is all wiggly and ummmmmm...” He heard an exasperated ‘all right, give that to me, ma’am,’ in the background before another voice spoke into the phone.
“Tyrion Lannister, I presume?” a woman’s voice asked.
“Um, yes. This is he.”
“I’m here with Sansa Stark, who had a procedure done here today and had no one to drive her home from the office. As you can tell, she’s rather out of it and I didn’t feel comfortable sending her in an Uber. When I asked her if she had anyone she could ring, she told me she did, and then rang you. So are you able to come up to the office and escort her home?”
As if it were really a question. Tyrion sighed. “Yes, I can. Where’s your office? I’ll be there shortly.”
“Thank you,” the woman gushed and spouted off the address, which he input into his maps app and went promptly to his car to drive down and pick up his ex-girlfriend.
And take her where? Home? Her home, most likely. He sighed and shook his head, muttering to himself about how unfair it was.
But the entire time he was whinging, he couldn’t help but smile. It was funny, wasn’t it? He wasn’t sure if Sansa would find it quite as humorous as he did. Someone as straight-laced as Sansa was, going on and on about her ‘wiggly’ teeth.
He arrived shortly thereafter, walking into the dentist’s office and ignoring the looks from the woman behind the counter as she handed him a post-op sheet for Sansa. He was perfectly able to both drive and help his stumbling ex out to the car. And he did so with great dexterity, considering she was stumbling a lot and laughing even more than that. From the looks of her, she’d had her wisdom teeth out finally.
“Do you see what I mean?” she asked him approximately five minutes into the ride.
“See what?” he asked.
“How wiggly my mouth is.”
“Indeed,” he replied. “Wiggliest I’ve ever seen it.”
“That’s what I told them,” she protested dramatically.
She sang the wrong song to the tune of the one playing on the radio and he had to hold back his laughter.
When he pulled into the drive-through pharmacy, she fell asleep against the window, fogging up the glass as he asked about her prescription. The attendant laughed softly at Sansa, face pressed against the passenger side window and he paid for and tucked the paper bag between the seats.
Once they arrived at her flat, he helped her out of the car and up the stairs, she went promptly to the bathroom and then collapsed on her sofa, falling asleep again seconds after she hit it.
Tyrion waffled on what to do but ended up taking a seat in her armchair to watch Netflix on his phone and wait for her to wake up.
He’d gotten through almost four episodes of his current binge-fest when she groaned.
“Tyrion?” she muttered, sitting up and wincing, bringing her hand up to her swollen cheek. “What’re you doing here?”
“You rang me from your dentist,” he replied. “I gave you a ride home.”
“Gods,” she closed her eyes and leaned back on the sofa. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I didn’t mean to ring you… I meant to ring Robb.”
“I’m sorry,” he said uncertainly. “I only stayed because I wanted to be sure you were alright. You fell asleep upon your arrival, so I sat over here.” He swallowed and went to get up.
“Could you…” she started, wincing again. “I didn’t happen to come home with any pain pills, did I?”
“You did, they are on your kitchen counter. If you’ll wait, I’ll get them for you.”
He brought her a bottle of water and the pills. She squinted at the bottle and then took one out, swallowed it with the water, and lay back against the sofa.
“Thank you, Tyrion. For picking me up. And making sure I was safe. And everything…”
“You’re very welcome, Sansa. Don’t hesitate to ring if you need anything else.”
He had his hand on the doorknob when she spoke again.
“You could… stay for a while longer, if you’d like?”
Smiling, he turned back to face her. “You already know what I’d like. The question is, would you like that?”
She was silent for a moment before nodding. “Yes. I would.”
@blackdyed - Meg, you have been an amazing friend and such a wonderful person to get to know better over the course of the past year or so. You're so incredibly talented and I love what you're doing for the art side of Inception fandom. Also, Mal/Saito? Nnng. Yeah, heck yeah.
