Chapter Text
Brienne grits her teeth angrily as she tugs her robe tightly around herself in an attempt to stave off the morning chill.
The fire alarm in her apartment complex has been sounded for the third time this week, and she is less than pleased with the fact she has had to drag herself out of the warmth of her bed at 6 am and into the freezing street because of it. Who in their right mind gets up at that time anyways? And why in the name of the seven do they have to set the fucking fire alarms off?
She takes a deep breath to calm herself, sensing that she could snap into a fit of rage at any moment.
The twenty or so other residents of the building mill around the street. Some chat to one another, some are occupied with their phones, some smoke. But all of them have one thing in common- they’re pissed off.
All but one, that is.
Jaime Lannister.
He’s dressed in dark slacks and a crisp white shirt. His hair is perfectly styled, flowing gently to the sides of his cleanly shaven face. Brienne is sure that he must be some kind of robot, because real people aren’t that well put together at this time of day. On the first morning when the alarm sounded, she’d accused him of being the culprit, since he’d waltzed out of the building like he’d just stepped onto a red carpet. She thought that maybe he’d don’t it on purpose, just to gather everyone and remind them of his perfection.
She has lived across the hall from Jaime for three years and their relationship has been… unusual to say the least.
For the first six months, she never saw him, only heard him though the wall. More specifically, she heard him having sex. Very, very loudly. She’d seen the woman in question once or twice, she was tall, slim and had golden flowing hair. That was her first indication of who Jaime was as a person. He liked pretty things. Petite women with expensive taste, who sound like porn stars in bed.
She did not think they would get along at all.
Then, they’d met. She’d gotten home after a long day of work and climbed the seven flights of stairs to get up to her level. As she pushed open the stairwell door, she heard a string of profanities followed by the sound of keys being dropped to the floor, and that’s when she saw him.
He crouched down to pick up his keys then turned back to face her. He looked exhausted. His hair was long and limp against his face and he looked like he hadn’t shaved in weeks. The bags under his eyes appeared almost painfully heavy. He dressed in old, ragged looking clothes and was nothing like how she pictured him to be.
He didn’t have a right hand.
The wrist was covered with a tight fitting medical bandage. Whatever had happened, it had been recent.
She must’ve stared for a little too long as his face twisted into a disgusted grimace. “Can I help you?” He spat angrily.
“N-no. Sorry.” She stammered. “Can I help you?” She said, but without the sarcasm.
“No. I don’t need any fucking help so fuck off and stop staring, you giant.” He practically yelled.
She tried not to take it personally. ‘Giant’ was amongst the more tame of the insults that had been hurled at her, and he was clearly going through something. But the words still stung.
Eventually, when she saw glimpses of him in the hallway or parking lot, she noticed that he was starting to look a little better. She realised that when his hair was well groomed and he wasn’t wearing old sweats, he was actually stunningly handsome. His attitude never improved throughout the years however. She imagined that he would never stop being bitter with her for their first encounter, even though she hadn’t really done anything wrong.
He was, and still is, rude to her at any given opportunity, yet somehow, the nature of his insults changed. Instead of muttering insults under his breath, he began saying them to her face with a smirk, his eyes lighting up when she retorted back. It seems that he gets a kick out of teasing and taunting her.
It is frustrating as all hell.
It definitely isn’t the highlight of her day.
She rolls her eyes aggressively as he saunters towards her. “You’re much uglier at this time of day, wench.” He says with a grin, looking her up and down.
“Fuck off, Jaime.” She grumbles.
“Good one.” He says sarcastically.
She’s too tired for anything witty.
“Do we know who’s doing this?” He asks, glancing down at the expensive looking watch on his wrist.
It has always perplexed her that he spends his money on lavish personal items and continues to live in the same shitty old apartment building. Although having said that, Brienne is thirty five years old and still hasn’t gotten round to moving out of what was supposed to be her starter apartment.
“I just assumed it was you, since you’re the only one that gets up at this time.” She mutters dryly.
“Well I assumed it was you, since our floor has started smelling like burnt toast in the mornings.”
She snorts a laugh out. She kickboxes four times a week and hasn’t eaten a carb in years. If anyone is going to be burning toast, it’s not her.
“All clear.” She hears the fire marshal yell from the building’s entrance, indicating that the tenants may re-enter. Thank the seven. The small gathering of people begin to filter into the apartment block, as Brienne waits impatiently to get through. Jaime, for some reason, waits with her.
“Cute slippers.” He teases her under his breath and her lips form a scowl.
Eventually, they manage to trudge back up to their floor, but as Brienne is pushing the hallway door open, Jaime grabs her by the wrist and pulls her back into the stairwell.
“What are you doing? Unhand me.” She hisses but he shushes her.
“Look, someone’s going into apartment 7C. I thought I heard someone a few days ago but I wasn’t sure.” He whispered, pressing his face up to the small window,so she couldn’t have seen even if she had wanted to.
7C had been empty for years, leaving them as the only two tenants on their floor, but a new neighbour didn’t even crack the top ten list of things she cared about right now. “So?” She sighs.
“So, he must be the one making the hallways smell of burnt toast and setting off the fire alarms!” He says as though he were a detective cracking a case.
“Jaime. We don’t even know if those two things are related.” She groaned. If she hurries, she might be able to squeeze in an extra half an hour of sleep before she has to get up for work. She doesn’t have time for this.
“There’s only one way to find out.” He fires back with a devilish smirk. Before she can protest, he’s pushing the door open excitedly and practically skipping towards the apartment.
She follows him, purely for the reason that if 7C were the culprit of the fire alarms she would know who’s teeth to knock out if it happens again.
Jaime taps on the door with his knuckles and they wait. She’s about to give up and go back to her own apartment when the door swings open. Before them stands a very young looking boy. Her eyes glance to Jaime and he’s already looking at her with confusion, then they both look back to the boy.
“Do you live here?” He Jaime says sceptically.
The boys eyes go wide with fear as he glances between Jaime and Brienne. She isn’t surprised, since they are both at least a head taller than him and she was most definitely glaring. “Y-yes, sir.” He stutters. His voice is a little deeper than she expected, so she estimates that he is about 15. She wonders if he thinks Jaime is some kind of building manager on account of his suit. Which would make her his odd, gawky, robe wearing companion.
“Have you been setting off the fire alarms?” Jaime asks, cutting straight to the chase.
The boy looks as though he might burst into tears. “Um. It was an accident. I can’t turn the setting on my toaster down. I’m really sorry. Please don’t kick me out. I didn’t mean to.” He stammers and Jaime turns to her, laughing in disbelief.
“Relax, kid. We’re your neighbours.” He says through his laughter.
“Oh.”
“I’m Jaime and I live in 7B and Brienne lives in 7A. “ He explained and the boy nodded.
“I’m Podrick.” He says, smiling slightly. He then looks up with worry at Jaime once more. “Am I going to get in trouble?”
Jaime laughs. “The only thing you need to worry about is this woman right here. She has the temperament a bear with a sore head if she doesn’t get her beauty sleep.”
Brienne scowls at Jaime, then realises that she hasn’t actually said a word since he opened the door. “It’s very inconvenient.” She snaps coldly.
“See.” Jaime smirks. Podrick looks like he might smirk too, so she shoots him a preemptive nasty glare and he stops.
“Well I guess we will see you around. Just maybe not at 6 in the morning next time.” Jaime says with a laugh, and she’s very grateful that the conversation is over.
“Yeah, I guess. Bye then. It was um, nice to meet you. I really am sorry by the way.” The kid fumbles over his words like a fool.
Once the door is closed, Jaime turns to her with his eyes wide in shock and a huge grin on his face.
“What?” She grumbles.
“What?” He repeats back in shock. “Don’t you find it intriguing that there’s a kid living alone in that apparent? What the hell is he doing there?”
She sighs and rolls her eyes. “First of all, we don’t know he’s a kid, he might just look young. Second, you don’t know that he lives alone. And third, I really don’t care.”
He shakes his head and follows her to the doorway of the apartment. “Come on, he was clearly no older than sixteen at most. And these apartments are only single bedrooms.”
“Some people share single rooms.” She mutters.
She spent a great deal of her early childhood living in a single bedroom apparent with her father, after her mother’s medical bills had sent him spiralling into debt.
“No, I’ve definitely only heard one person.” He insisted.
“Like I said, I still don’t care.” She reminded him.
He grinned at her once more. “Not even a little bit?” He teased.
“Nope.” She snapped curtly, opening the door to her apartment. “Now, if you will excuse me?” She said, gesturing for him to leave.
“Well I’m going to find out what he’s doing here.” Jaime pouted like a child who hadn’t got his way.
“Fine. Just leave me out of it. I don’t want anything to do with this kid, understand?”
He smiles at her knowingly.
Infuriatingly.
“Sure thing, wench.”