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Three year old Eddard “Little Ned” Stark was, in fact, the cutest child alive. All parents said that about their children, but Sansa wasn't Ned's mother. Therefore, it had to be true when she said it. Check and mate.
Ned had Robb's red curls and bright blue eyes and a sweet smile and playful nature that was all Jeyne. Sansa had been besotted with her nephew from the moment he was born, and she desperately wanted to see him more often. When she'd found a job near Wintertown after graduation, she thought her prayers had been answered. She'd get to see actual angel baby Ned all the time!
However, it had not worked out that way. She did get to see her nephew a lot more often now than she did when she still lived in King's Landing—at least twice a month—but she wasn't Robb's go-to babysitter.
No, that honor went to Robb's best friend, Jon Snow. Every time Robb or Jeyne had something they needed to do, Jon was the first person they called. Even worse, Ned adored him.
Sansa couldn't understand it. Sure, Jon was nice enough. He was polite and good-looking, if you liked the brooding pretty-boy type, but he was also quiet and a more than a little distant. Whenever they were in the same place, he would give her a polite “Hullo, Sansa” and then avoid her until one of them left. If she entered a room, he quickly found a reason to leave it. If she was already in it, he'd turn around and leave. Attempts at conversation got monosyllabic responses. The worst thing was that it seemed like he could barely stand to look at her.
Sansa shook her head and focused on the road in front of her.
Her issues with Jon Snow were mostly irrelevant, but the point still stood. Jon was way too distant to hold a toddler's attention. It didn't make sense for little Ned to love him so much. However, that wasn't going to last forever.
After today, she would be the baby's favorite. And then, she would rub it in Jon “I'm-so-aloof” Snow's pretty face. Said pretty face had been out of town for almost a week. He wasn't due back for a couple of days, so his standing Saturday morning babysitting gig was wide open. It was Sansa's time to shine. She had so many fun things planned. She was almost squirming with excitement when she pulled up in front of Robb's house at 10:30. She bounced up the front steps, unlocked the door, and stepped inside, opening her mouth to call for her favorite nephew.
“I'M NOT GOING BACK TO JAIL!!” a child's voice shrieked right before something crashed.
Sansa's jaw dropped, and she immediately hurried inside, flinging the door shut behind her. What was going on?! Her answer sprinted out of the hallway to her right, wearing a smile that seemed to take up half his little face. Ned shrieked at the sight of her and then lunged, wrapping himself tight around her knees.
“Sans! Sans, save me!” he cried, trying to climb up her legs.
She snatched him up and placed him on her hip, looking him over for injuries. “Of course, baby, what's happening? Who's chasing you?”
“Suspect is northbound, taking the hallway toward the living room.” Jon Snow bounded into the living room, face set in a mask of determination. His dark eyes went wide at the sight of her, and he almost tripped over the coffee table before he staggered to a stop. A light pink flush appeared on his cheeks. “Oh. Um, hullo, Sansa.”
He looked down, and Sansa absolutely did not think his embarrassment was adorable. He should be be embarrassed! Putting Ned in “jail,” whatever that was. The way Ned had clung to her, it was clear he didn't deserve whatever Jon Snow was doing to him.
“Jon,” she replied, voice cool. “I thought you were out of town.”
He looked up. “I was, but I finished my work up early and got back in time to take care of Ned as usual.” His eyes widened again, and then his expression became chagrined. “Robb didn't tell you I was back.”
It wasn't a question, but Sansa answered anyway. “No, he didn't.”
“Oh. Well, I'm sorry you had to come all this way. Erm, do you want me to go?”
“No!” Ned whined, startling Sansa. He flung himself out of Sansa's arms and marched up to Jon, hands on his little hips. “You're s'posed to take me to baby jail!”
Sansa's eyebrows shot up. Ned wanted to go to 'baby jail?' She looked at Jon. “Baby jail?”
The flush returned. “It's a game we play.”
“Uh-huh.” Sansa wasn't sure she believed him. What kind of game was 'Baby Jail?'
“Please, Jon?” Ned asked, tugging on Jon's hand.
Jon glanced at Sansa and then looked down at Ned. “I don't know, buddy. Aunt Sansa's here. Don't you wanna play with her?”
“She can play too,” Ned insisted. “Pleeeeease take me to baby jail? Take me to baby jail, and wrap me up like a taco!” He stared up at Jon, blue eyes wide and pleading and lower lip almost pushed into a pout.
Sansa didn't know how Jon didn't melt into a puddle of goo on the spot. She herself made some sort of involuntary squeaking sound, making Jon's head snap up. He watched her for a second then looked back down at Ned's pleading eyes. Jon looked back up at Sansa and seemed to steel himself. Then, he turned to Ned and roared.
Sansa started in surprise, but Ned shrieked in delight and then took off toward the dining room, Jon hot on his heels.
Curious, Sansa ran into the dining room after them and watched as Jon chased Ned around the table a few times before following him into the kitchen. She followed them through the kitchen and back into the living room.
“You're gonna go to baby jail!” Jon yelled.
“No!” Ned squealed and dove behind the couch.
Jon stopped in the middle of the living room and narrowed his eyes. “Now, where did Ned go?”
Ned giggled, but Jon pretended not to hear it. Sansa stifled a giggle of her own when Jon looked behind the chair right next to the couch. Ned looked so smug.
“Well, I can't seem to find Ned anywhere,” Jon sighed, turning away from the couch. He smiled slightly when he caught her eye and then turned away again. “I guess I'll have to—AHA!” He dove behind the couch and snatched up a screaming Ned, letting out a deep, villainous laugh that was better suited to a Disney antagonist.
Sansa should not have found it as hot as she did.
“Gotcha now, you're gonna go to baby jail!” Jon chortled.
“No!” Ned yelled, trying to flail away. He let out an outraged squawk when Jon tossed him over his shoulder and smacked him lightly on the backside. Jon marched toward the hallway. Wondering what would happen next, Sansa followed. Jon walked into Ned's bedroom and swung the little boy around before gently tossing him onto the bed. He immediately tried to crawl away, but Jon grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him back. Then, he descended, tickling Ned until he was red-faced and breathless.
Sansa was about ninety percent sure she felt her ovaries explode.
Smiling hard enough to make her cheeks hurt, she watched as Jon picked up the messy bedding and wrapped it tightly around a panting and exhausted Ned.
“And now that I have caught this dangerous criminal,” Jon said. “I'm going to take a nap.” He collapsed onto the bed next to Ned, draping one arm over him. Comically loud snoring started up right away.
Sansa couldn't help it. She giggled.
Jon stiffened, and Ned shot her a betrayed look, pressing a finger to his lips.
“Sorry,” she mouthed, and then clapped a hand over her mouth.
Shooting looks at Jon, Ned slid out of the blanket he'd been rolled into and then dropped off the bed. He tiptoed toward the doorway, chancing another couple of looks back at Jon to make sure he hadn't “woken up.” Once Ned was past Sansa, just outside the door, he screeched, “I ESCAPE!”
Jon 'startled awake' and looked around, mouth dropping open when he realized his 'prisoner' was gone. “Oh no, he escaped!” He jumped up and ran out the door, muttering an “excuse me” at Sansa as he passed.
The boys continued to play for a long time, Ned never seeming to tire of the silly game. Each time he'd “escape” from Jon, he laughed like he was having the time of his life, and Jon seemed to enjoy it just as much. He'd laughed more in the last hour than Sansa had ever seen. It was like they were in their own world, and, for the first time, Sansa felt like an intruder. Her nephew may not have been related to Jon, but it clear they had a very special relationship.
Sansa was surprised at how torn she felt. Part of her felt like the polite thing to do would be to leave and let them have their fun. However, she couldn't find it in herself to break their focus long enough to tell them that she had to go. Her own ingrained politeness also refused to let her sneak out. Finally, a small, masochistic part of herself relished seeing Jon so carefree, even if she wasn't the one who made him that happy. So, she stayed and watched them play, laughing when Ned pulled something especially clever.
It was almost noon when Jon finally scooped Ned up only to sit him on the couch next to Sansa. “It's almost lunch time, buddy, which means you get to watch Power Rangers.”
“Power Rangers,” Ned repeated with a solemn nod.
Jon returned the node and then switched the TV to Netflix, queuing up whichever version of Power Rangers was on now. Then, he made his way to the kitchen.
He hadn't looked at Sansa at all.
Suddenly indignant, Sansa kissed the top of Ned's head—he was already so engrossed in his show that he didn't notice—and walked into the kitchen after Jon. She was going to find out what his problem was. She found him taking a box of macaroni out of the cabinet. He froze when he saw her.
“Oh. Do you want to take it from here?”
“What do you mean?” Sansa asked.
Jon shrugged and tilted his head toward the back door. “I can go home, if you'd like. Leave you to watch Ned since you came all this way.”
Sansa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “It's a half hour drive. It's not like I was making the trip up from King's Landing.”
“Right...” Jon looked at the box in his hands and carefully put it on the counter. He watched it like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
“What is your problem with me?” Sansa asked before she could stop herself.
Jon's head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. His mouth opened and then closed.
“I know we weren't close as kids,” Sansa said, on a roll now. “But we're adults now. I get along with everyone else better, even Arya, and you remember what we were like. But us...we're worse, and I'm not sure what I did.” Her last few words sounded far more vulnerable than she wanted them to.
Jon looked stricken. “You didn't do anything.”
“So, do you just not like me then?”
“I like you,” he said, voice soft.
Sansa gave him a dubious look.
“I do,” he insisted. He let out a rueful huff of a laugh, and then his black gaze focused on her face. “A lot, actually. Enough that I forget how to talk.” For what felt like the first time, his eyes stayed on her face for longer than a second or two. It was long enough for Sansa to see a very familiar look in them, one she assumed that she often had herself.
She took a breath. “Okay.”
Jon's eyebrows furrowed. “Okay?” He sounded like he didn't know what to make of the word.
“This is the part where you're supposed to ask me out,” Sansa prodded.
“Wait, what?” Jon asked, startled.
“Or, do you not want to?” Sansa asked, suddenly that terrified she'd misread the entire situation.
“No! I mean—yes. Yes, I do,” Jon said with a firm nod.
Sansa looked at him expectantly.
Jon stared back for a moment before he got the hint. “Oh, right. Um, do you want to go out some time?”
Sansa smiled. “Yes.”
“Okay, good.” Jon looked a bit dazed, and Sansa's smile widened.
“Does this mean I can stay?”
“Of course.”
“Good.” Sansa's smile turned teasing. “Because, right now, Ned loves you more than me, and that's unacceptable.”