Chapter Text
If you asked Sansa about her neighbors, she'd have a lot and a little to say.
The Tyrells are great. Marg and Loras are two of her best friends, she used to have the hugest crush on Willas, there's a giant rose garden in their backyard, and Garlan's girlfriend makes the world's best apple pie and brings one over to the Starks every big holiday.
But the Targaryens down the road? Their house is huge and Edward Scissorhands-scary― dragon shrubbery and everything― and the people who live in it are all so gorgeous that Sansa's a bit thankful they don't come outside much. Sansa used to be besties with Dany up until the middle of 7th grade, when Dany switched to being home-schooled and the Tyrells moved into the house next door, but they're friends on Facebook and still text each other every now and then, just never about anything substantial.
So when Sansa's pink-cased iPhone buzzes against her vanity one Sunday afternoon, screen lighting up because Dany is calling, she picks up without even putting down her curling iron.
"Hello?" Sansa said, resting her iron-holding hand against the tabletop.
"Hey Sansa! It's Dany. Long time no talk, huh?" It's been a couple years, actually, since they'd last heard each other's voice, which is a little sad considering all the 'BFF's and hearts they drew in each other's middle school yearbooks.
"Listen, I know it's kinda crazy but can I ask you a favor?" Dany sounds uncomfortable, more than Sansa ever remembered her sounding, so Sansa tries to encourage her.
"Yeah, of course, go ahead." She unplugs the curling iron, sets it down, and shifts her phone to the other hand.
"We're going away for the summer, but my nephew isn't coming along," She took a crackly breath before rushing through the rest of her request.
"He doesn't really get along with my cats, and I was just wondering if you'd be free to take care of them?"
Sansa doesn't reply for a beat, biting her lower lip and trying to make sense of what Dany just told her.
"We'll be gone for two months, but they're all pretty low maintenance," Dany says during the pause. Sansa remembers Dany's cats― the three of them are more like children than pets and the opposite of 'low maintenance'― so maybe her nephew's included in the roundup of Sansa's new charge.
"Just maybe check by the house every few days to see if everything's still ok?"
"Yeah, yeah, sure," Sansa replies, if only just to stop Dany from saying more in that frantic, embarrassed tone. "I'd love to help."
A sigh of relief crackles from the other end. "Thanks so much, Sansa! You're amazing. You can come by anytime today and I'll introduce you two."
"Today?" Sansa glanced at the wall clock, whose thin pink arms told her it was 3 o'clock, almost time for Joff to take her to the movies. "Are you leaving soon?"
"Uh, yeah. Tonight, actually." There's a beat before she goes on. "Sorry for the short notice, I hope it's alright."
Sansa shakes her head and halfheartedly waves her free hand.
"Oh no, it's no problem at all! Completely fine. I'll go over at about… six?"
Dany thanked her profusely, again, and leaves Sansa to finish curling her hair.
About eye level on the door is a finely wrought silver knocker, which Sansa gently raps three times. She wipes off some smeared lipgloss with the back of her hand and waits until she hears shuffling steps that stop by the peephole. Then the door swings open, revealing an interior not much brighter than the exterior and Dany, radiant in a lavender dress.
"Sansa!" Dany pulls her into a tight hug as if it hasn't been 5 years since their last.
"It's so nice to see you again," Sansa says, not that surprised at how genuine the comment sounds. Dany always had so much heart, something Sansa misses when she thinks of how petty the other girls at King's Landing High can be.
"And you! We have to catch up sometime," Dany says, shutting the door after Sansa steps inside, and glances towards the second floor. "Jon's probably up in his room, as always."
There are five large suitcases by the door to the garage and another one coming down the stairs, carried by a tall man who has a streak of blue in his messy bun of white hair. He smiles and nods at Sansa when Dany unceremoniously introduces him as Aegon, her other nephew who's a handful of years older. Aegon confirms that Jon is indeed wallowing in his room, and is likely to stay there until the rest of them return from their two-month trip to Dragonstone. "Some sunshine would do the hermit some good," he jokes. Dany just rolls her eyes.
The house, Sansa thinks as she follows Dany up the stairs, isn't as haunted-mansion as the outside suggests. It's darker than most and a little dustier too, but there's nothing too wrong or strange about that. There are sugary cereals in the kitchen and a massive flatscreen in the family room and plenty of other things that wouldn't be out of place at the Starks' or Tyrells'
They reach the top of the stairs and turn down a hallway, walking past framed photos and closed doors until Dany stops by the fourth (Sansa counted) room on the left. Dany knocks two knuckles against the door and calls out "Jon" before setting her slim hand on the handle and pushing down.
Jon seems to have jumped out of bed and tried, in vain, to pick up or hide away the clothes that litter his bedroom floor. His dark curls are messy from sleep and he drops a crumpled black hoodie to run his fingers through them, quickly glancing from Sansa to Dany and then the ground.
There's nothing strange about the messy room; Bran and Rickon's both look like war zones, it's just that Jon is considerably older than her brothers. Older than her too, by the look of his shoulders and stubble. Sansa was expecting another rowdy twelve year old boy to look after, not an adult who can't handle a few cats, and tries to hide her surprise.
Jon taps a soccer ball into the corner of the room to clear the way for him to walk up and shake Sansa's hand. She's not very practiced in hand shakes, but it doesn't take experience to know that this is a good one: firm and sure. He just doesn't make eye contact with her when they mumbles their names and 'nice to meet you's.
Dany's just handing over her house key when a car horn honks and she runs out of the room in a blur of white and purple for Sansa and Jon to follow. She doesn't feel too comfortable walking side-by-side with Jon, so she hurries to keep up with Dany. Sansa's stuck standing next to Jon as the rest of the Targaryens pull out of the driveway, but she smiles and waves as cheerfully as she can as they drive off.
It'll still be a couple hours till sunset, but standing next to Jon in an awkward silence has Sansa shivering. She says something about going home before it gets dark and Jon nods in agreement, hands stuck in the pockets of his grey sweatpants, eyes trained on the sidewalk.
Sansa turns and starts the 50 yard journey back home, and she's taken two steps when Jon calls out to her.
"See you tomorrow," he says, his voice lilting at the end so the goodbye sounds more like a question. Sansa turns around, patting the right pocket of her jeans to make sure the key is still there.
"Yeah, tomorrow!"
Jon smiles at that, and takes a hand out to push a curl out of his eyes.
Sansa turns back around and walks back home, grinning the entire time.