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There used to be a strict rule that the band had for themselves that while in the recording studio, no girlfriends or wives were allowed. Robb blew that rule to Hell though when he and Daenerys became attached at the hip and she was a constant presence in every session the band had so when Jon asked her if she would mind coming to Apple Records for the day, Sansa hadn’t said no. Jon was so immersed in new songwriting and recording with the band for the next album, she was hardly seeing him until he came home at night, exhausted and not wanting to talk. She just wanted to be near him for a bit.
She knew things were far from good with the guys – to put it mildly. Sansa had witnessed some of it for herself. The tension. The bickering. The full blown fights. All four guys musing at separate times that it would be better if Sam was still alive and here with them because the man could keep them on a schedule and tell them what to do. He also could stop their fights before they even started. Without him, they were all floundering and doing whatever the Hell they wanted. Jon tried to get them to work on certain things at certain times but most times, that just pissed the other three off as if he was acting like he was the boss of them. But if Jon didn’t try, nothing really would get done. But there were other reasons for the implosion. So many other deeper reasons.
Today didn’t seem so bad though. They were in the basement studio, which was kept on the cooler side because of all of the instruments, amps and wires. Even with the air circulating, it still didn’t smell that great, Sansa told no one but herself. The guys weren’t big on showering at the moment, too consumed with their songs and the stress to remember to bathe often. They were also smoking like chimneys. When Sansa came into the studio, she saw toast and cups of tea on top of the piano and she knew that this was basically all they were eating.
She would change that today. She would make Davos, their sound engineer, make them break for an actual lunch with actual food.
They were working on so many things but at the moment, they were practicing one of Theon’s songs, which made Theon happy because most days, he felt like Jon and Robb did nothing but ignore him and the songs he had written. Sansa was sitting on the floor, her back against the side of an amp with her legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. She was reading a magazine and able to tune out most things around her. She didn’t hate the song – not at all. She knew it wasn’t their best or most memorable but it was a perfectly good song. Sansa certainly couldn’t have written it and as always, she liked when the guys tried something different with their music.
The guys, except for Grenn who obviously had to sit behind his drums, would move around while playing. Theon was standing behind his mike while Robb was sitting down, Daenerys next to him – of course. For this song, Robb was playing the lap steel guitar, bent over the instrument. And Jon, playing bass for this one, was sitting on the floor with his mike dropped down to be at his level.
Sansa would sometimes lift her eyes and look to Jon as he focused on Theon and his particular vision for his song though she could also see the tenseness of his body. She knew he wanted to make his own suggestions but he knew if he did, Theon would storm out and quit the band again and that couldn’t happen. She also looked at his thick beard from not shaving for days and the greasiness of his hair. She wondered if she could actually throw him into the shower when they got home from the studio later tonight.
She could always threaten him. “You can’t kiss me again until you bathe.” That might work.
“Wonderful!” Robb suddenly exclaimed and did a slide on the guitar as Grenn did a roll on the drums. Sansa moved her eyes to Theon who was taking his guitar off. “That was good, Theon,” Robb said as he moved the guitar from off his lap and leaned back in his chair, taking the lit cigarette Daenerys was handing to him. She then began to play with his hair. The grease did not seem to bother her.
Theon shook his head though. “I want to see what Dickon thought. I didn’t like how my guitar sounded on that last take.” He headed off to the sound booth.
Jon exhaled a breath and began to lay back. Sansa smiled as he rested his head in her lap and continued plucking on the strings of the bass. She turned a page in the magazine and kept reading though she hardly actually saw any of the words in front of her.
“Can you play like that?” She asked.
“Course I can,” Jon grinned up at her in that cock-sure grin of his that he sometimes had and then he laughed when she rolled her eyes.
“MEOW!” Sansa turned her head and smiled when little Heather burst into the studio, her hands held up into claws like a cat and she meowed again. Behind her, Beth Cassel entered. Grenn grinned and stood at the sight of them both and stubbing out his cigarette, he came around his drums to greet them.
Beth was a celebrity photographer who had been at one of the Direwolves’ album launch parties. The instant Grenn saw her from across the room, he went to go speak with her and the two didn’t leave one another’s sides all night, only talking with each other. Beth had a young daughter, Heather, from a previous relationship, who Grenn already loved like his own. The girl now leapt into the air and Grenn easily caught her. He then leaned in and gave Beth a kiss.
“There’s a cat in the garage!” Heather excitedly told everyone in the studio.
“What kind of cat?” Sansa asked with a smile.
“Black! The best kind!”
“Are you going to eat it?” Robb asked. The lap steel guitar was back across his legs and he was pressing the bar against the strings, practicing different notes. Heather looked at him, her mouth open, aghast. “You need to eat it. Nothing better than cat.”
“Robb,” Grenn said, trying to hide his laugh, as Heather continued looking horrified.
They heard some kind of screeching scream and Sansa looked to see that it was Daenerys. She had taken it upon herself to start singing into the microphone. Sansa wasn’t actually sure if that was considered singing or not. It sounded like Heather’s cat was dying. Sansa must have been making some kind of face because she looked to Heather and Beth, who were both making faces, and she had to lift the magazine to her face to hide her grin.
“Robb! Robb! ROBB!” Daenerys “sang” into the microphone, calling for Robb’s name again and again, getting louder as she did until she was screaming.
Sansa winced but looking to Jon, he didn’t even seem to notice. Sadly, he was used to it.
“Whatever you say, dear!” Robb called back with a grin. God, they were both just awful and Sansa hated that she had such a thought but she couldn’t help it.
Sansa rolled her eyes at her brother and his… whatever she was and went back to reading. Jon’s head was still in her lap and she wanted to run her fingers through his hair but she didn’t dare. It was too greasy and she didn’t want to have to get up to go wash her hands. She heard a click but didn’t look up. Beth was taking pictures and they were all used to acting like a photographer – even if that photographer was Beth – wasn’t actually there. It would ruin their “natural” shots.
“I’m hungry!” Heather, still in Grenn’s arms, exclaimed.
“Oh, thank God,” Sansa said before she could stop herself.
“We have toast, tea and I can get some beer if you want,” Jon offered.
“I’m going to pretend you said none of that,” Sansa informed him.
With a grin, Jon sat up again and slid the bass guitar away. Staying on his butt, he turned towards her and slid his hands up her thighs so he could grasp her hips. He began to lean in so he could kiss her but before he could, she held the magazine up in front of her lips so he wound up kissing that instead. He pulled back with a frown and she smiled at him.
“Did you brush your teeth today?” She asked because she couldn’t remember seeing him do it this morning before he left for the studio. And Jon paused because it was clear he couldn’t remember either. “You can’t kiss me again until you brush your teeth. And wash your hair. And get me something more than toast to eat.”
Jon blinked at her, clearly not believing her. He began to smile but Sansa just kept looking at him, daring him to keep not believing her. Without a word, Jon sprang to his feet.
“Dickon!” He called to their producer in the booth. “I’ll be back in an hour!”
With that, he left the studio as fast as he could and Sansa felt awful because the Direwolves had things to do and get done but she couldn’t help it. Even if she wasn’t holding her kisses as a bargaining chip, Jon really needed to brush his teeth and wash his hair. She looked to Grenn and Robb and then Theon when he came back into the studio.
What could she do to get the others to bathe and eat something?
…