Chapter Text
"Yes Robb, I'm just leaving now." Sansa says down the phone as she struggles putting an earring in and sliding a black heel onto her foot at the same time. "No, I won't be rude to him. I know how badly you want this to go well, for some reason. Okay, bye. I love you too. Tell Margaery I said hi."
Sansa just gets to glance at herself in the mirror, satisfied with her appearance, before there's a knock at her door. Breathlessly she opens it, and sees Theon Greyjoy standing before her. He's wearing a black biker jacket and grey jeans. His hair is wild and beard scruffy, like he rolled out of bed, put on some clothes and showed up at her door all within 15 minutes. Sansa thinks how she started getting ready an hour and a half ago, and only just managed to finish in time.
"Hello love." Theon smiles lopsidedly, and Sansa smiles gracefully back.
"Hello yourself. Ready to go?"
"Ready when you are."
They make their way down the steps of Sansa's block of flats. Theon's converse are scuffed and the laces are grey. The sounds their foot steps make as they walk down the stairway differ so greatly that Sansa listens intently as they walk.
"So, Robb tells me you've just moved to Winterfell." Sansa starts the conversation between the two.
"Yup," Theon replies, "I used to live in Pyke, but there wasn't really anything for me there. My sister, and a dead-beat dad but, that's about it."
Sansa nods, not relating but understanding all the same. She came with emotional baggage too.
As they step outside she glances around. "Where's your car?" She asks.
"Car?" Theon scoffs. "I haven't got a car love, but I have got a motorbike, with an extra helmet and enough room for two if you hold on. I promise I won't read into it too much if you want to hold on really tight."
Sansa looks at Theon incredulously. "A motorbike? Nope. No way. Do I look dressed to go through 40mph winds to you? We’ll take my car instead. I’ll drive.”
They cram into Sansa’s car and pause for a second, taking in the last 5 minutes. Robb and Margaery don’t know her as well as she thought, and Robb’s her fucking brother for pete’s sake.
“So, where to?” Theon asks, words travelling out of mouth and hanging in the space between them in Sansa’s car, so forced that Sansa wants to grab on to them and stuff them back into his mouth.
“Wherever you made reservations for, like you said you would, Theon.”
“Right. Yes. Reservations. Didn’t make those. Um, you choose where we go, and we’ll just go grab a table.”
“Just grab a table? Just grab a ta—” Sansa sighs, rubs her temple. “I’ll see if Hotpie can squeeze us in. He’s an old friend from culinary school. “
Just as she says that Theon’s phone starts ringing, Sir Mix-A-Lot’s Baby Got Back serenading the two of them.
“You going to— are you going to answer that?” Sansa queries, disbelief leaking in her tone at how her night is ending up.
“Nah, I’ll just let it ring out,” Theon shrugs.
“Just answer it.”
Theon looks at her, raises his eyebrows, and draws his phone out his pocket.
“Hello…you…” He trails off, glancing over at Sansa. Sansa watches him with rising annoyance. “Tonight? Okay, Yeah. Eleven.” Sana can’t believe her ears now. “How about-“ Theon pauses, lowering his voice, “half ten. Alright.” Theon hangs up. “Sick friend.” He says to her with no conviction.
“We don’t have to do this.” Sansa suggests, staring in front of her, waiting for his answer.
“Really? Okay.” Theon replies, and turns to leave the car.
“Are you taking the piss?”
“Look, we both know that the best way this night is going to end is us getting drunk, having sex, and disappointing Robb and Margaery because we can never be in the same room again after that. So let’s just skip the bullshit. Go do whatever it is you do on a Saturday night. Do you read? You look like you read.”
Sansa splutters: “What kind of prick are you? Robb and Margaery set this up for us, and we owe it to them.”
“Look, love, it’s a Saturday night, I’m in a new city, and I want to have some fun.”
“Of course, of course, you want to have some fun. Well get the hell out of my car and go have it, Theon Greyjoy.” She spits, grabbing her bag and slamming the door she only opened 2 minute ago.
“Okay. I will. Robb and Margaery clearly weren’t thinking straight when they set us up."
“Clearly.” Sansa retorts, then pulls up the phone to Margaery audibly in front of Theon.
“Marg, the only way you and that twat of a brother of mine are going to make it up to me for this is if you promise me I never have to be in the same room as Theon Greyjoy again.”