It was dark and muggy. Bright, colorful lights danced over the sweating, moving bodies, rubbing against each other. The music was so loud, you could feel the beat running through your body. At some point, white light flashed up quickly, making every move look choppy.
Jaime Lannister stood next to one of the big amps, his grip on the beer bottle so tight, his knuckles turned white. Next to him a couple of young girls, dressed in almost nothing and their faces covered in make-up, danced seductive, always glancing and smiling at him, licking their lips, shaking their body to try to make their breasts and asses stand out more. They were almost young enough to be his daughters, but that didn't seem to bother them. He was by far the most handsome man in the whole club – even just dressed in a simple red shirt and dark jeans – and they wanted him.
He didn't even noticed them.
His green eyes were drawn to his lover – his former lover, he reminded himself and grinned his teeth – who was dancing in the middle of the dance floor. One delicate, perfect hand ran through her golden locks. Her hips swayed to the beat of the song, her deep red dressed hugged her body so perfectly, that she looked dangerously sexy and classy at the same time. Slowly she rolled her head back, her red lips slightly open, her emerald eyes closed, and exposed her slender neck.
She was him, just as a woman. His mirror. His other half. His twin.
And Jaime wanted nothing more than to dance together with her; running his hands up and down her body, over her breasts, her hips, her ass, touching every curve of her body. Kissing her lips, her neck, her collarbone. Pressing her against himself, letting her feel how hard he was. Seven hells, he would even fuck her here, on the middle of the dance floor, with everyone watching. He couldn't care less about anyone but her.
It weren't his hands that explored her body, though. It wasn't him who looked down at her with a lustful smile. It wasn't his neck, that Cersei hold onto. She didn't whispered something in his ear and it wasn't his mouth that covered her neck with sloppy kisses.
It was Osmund fucking Kettleblack.
Jaime took another, long gulp from his beer. Since he was fourteen, Cersei was the only woman he ever slept with. Hells, she was the only woman he had ever loved. After all they were one soul in one body and that were her words. He never even looked at another woman and he truly thought that Cersei would feel the same.
Now he realized that she never felt the same.
Even while she was married to Robert Baratheon – a marriage made by Father – Jaime had still fucked her. He didn't liked sharing her with Baratheon, but he could understand that Cersei had to marry him. It wasn't easy to disobey Father. She told him that she just loved Jaime, not Robert or anyone else. Only him.
So when Robert was murdered, Jaime had thought that they finally had a chance to be together. Of course not officially, because it would be the death of Cersei's career, but it would have worked out if both of them stayed single, not seeing anyone, saying they wanted to concentrate on their career, but seeing each other in secret.
Cersei had had other plans. She started seeing a lot of different guys, as long as they could help her out. Her newest one was Osmund Kettleblack, who had the power to make her the next CEO of the fashion magazine she was working at.
Slowly Jaime saw that he had just been one of her pawns. He couldn't remember the last time they saw each other without her asking him to speak to Father, to make him let her have power over Casterly Rock; and every time Jaime had to say, that he couldn't do anything, that he couldn't change Father's mind. Cersei had been angry and as soon as she was finished with him – or rather with his cock – she shoved him out of her apartment, not even waiting for him to get fully dressed.
She never loved me, he thought. Not the way I loved her.
With his eyes still fixed on Cersei, he downed his beer. There was a strange, boiling feeling inside him. With a frown he realized it was anger. Jaime had always been jealous of all her lovers, but never really angry. Until now. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he wanted to pay her back. Make her jealous, make her furies and admit that she wanted just him.
Slowly he looked over to the other girls who were still dancing next to him. They were winking at him, smiling, shaking their hips and breasts and trying to seduce him. He was even too angry to be charming towards them. Without even a little wink, he turned around to get another beer from the bar.
He had to fight his way to the bar. The small, but popular club was busier than ever. If Jaime wasn't mistaken, all the students just finished their exams a few days ago. It took him twice as long as usual to get to the bar and the bartender served a guy to his left first, than two girls to his right. At this point, Jaime was pretty close to leaving and just going home, but he needed the alcohol. He needed something to distract him from Cersei or he would go crazy.
As the bartender brought him his bottle, Jaime noticed that the tall guy next to him wasn't a guy but a girl. And not just any girl, it was the girl from his gym.
They had met a few weeks ago, as he entered the gym just to find his usual treadmill occupied by a big person. A woman – though you could easily mistake her for a guy – ran on it. As he got closer, he realized that she was quite young and much more uglier than he had thought, but she did had pretty blue eyes. Her pace was fast and steady.
Jaime had told her that it was his treadmill.
She asked if he had brought it. As he shook his head, she said that it wasn't his treadmill then and didn't looked at him again.
The next day he went to the gym half an hour earlier to be sure to get the treadmill. She was already there, doing a workout for her arms. He had flashed her a wide grin as he jumped on the machine, but she just growled at him. Twenty five minutes later she asked him how long he planned to be on there. She did the running for her cool down and there was no free treadmill. With his best grin he told her that he planned to stay on the treadmill for at least another hour; and that he could stay on there as long as he liked because he brought it earlier. She had blushed badly, turned around and waited until there was another free treadmill. He kept running until she was gone, which was at least twice as long as he usual did. Jaime couldn't feel his legs for three days, but it was worth the victory.
Slowly they started to do their workout together – not that they would ever admit it. They couldn't say when they went to the gym at the same time or when they started to have the same routine. At some point they started their little challenges; who could run faster, who could pull more weight, who could do more push ups, who was better? Jaime wouldn't tell anyone – not even Tyrion –, but he actually enjoyed their time together.
He never had asked her for her name though.
He called her Missy, which seemed to annoy her, because she would just roll her eyes. To be honest he didn't know anything about her, not what she was doing, where she lived, where she was from. All he knew was that she was fit, competitive and enjoyed water with a slightly lemony flavor.
She called him Lannister, because there wasn't a person in Westeros who didn't know him or his family. He was in the tabloids too often to not be recognized at some point. She never asked him any questions about his life.
"Missy," he called her. She couldn't hear him over the loud music, so he leaned closer and touched her shoulder. She jumped at his touched and turned to him. Her eyes were even bigger than usual. Jaime thought one more time, that her eyes were the only pretty thing on her. She was taller than him, her straw-like hair was thin, her face ugly, her skin freckled, her body more mannish than feminine and … Slightly he crocked his head to one side. She covered the huge scar on her face with some make-up. She never bothered to do it at the gym – on the other hand the gym wasn't really a place to dress up and put make-up on. Her cloths were pretty nice too. She is on a date, he thought.
"How are you, Missy?" he asked again, louder this time, and standing closer. This time she could understand him. Jaime saw her knitting her eyebrows together, something she always did when he said something that annoyed her.
She answered, but he couldn't make out the words. He leaned closer and saw her stiffen with the sudden closeness. Shyly she leaned closer as well, until there were barely a few inches between them. "It's Brienne, not Missy," she said.
"Brienne?" he asked, unsure if he had understood her correctly while the music blazed into his ears. Somehow he had expected a more masculine name.
She nodded. "Brienne Tarth."
"Jaime Lannister, I know." She rolled her eyes. "I knew who you are the first time we met."
"Really?" That surprised him. He kinda thought that she looked him up at some point, not that she knew him from the start.
"Yes. Only you could be stupid enough to buy a treadmill to annoy somebody." She gave him a hard look, but Jaime just laughed. She – Brienne – was bolder than usual, but it could be the alcohol. Jaime saw an empty glass in front of her, the ice cubs melting slowly and the condensed water ran down the glass.
"As much as I like to see you all sweaty and red and rolling your eyes at me, I do wonder what you are doing here," he said and winked. It did amuse him to annoy her and after Cersei he needed a bit of fun.
Brienne rolled her eyes again, but blushed, and Jaime just smiled wider, happy that he got that reaction. "What do you think I'm doing here?" She ordered another drink, whether as a clue or because she needed more alcohol to endure Jaime, he didn't know.
"Are you even old enough to drink?" Jaime asked playfully as the bartender gave her another glass with a golden liquid and ice.
"I'm twenty four," she said matter-of-factly, raising her glass to take a sip. Quickly Jaime bumped his bottle against her glass and took a gulp the same time she did. Even though Jaime tried not to show it, he was surprised. She was fourteen years younger than him, which was way younger than he had expected. Somehow he had always thought her older. But maybe it was just her attitude.
"Celebrating your finished exams?" With his head, he nodded towards some of the young students, who where all – female and male – dressed in something short and flashy, dancing on a table, a bottle or a glass in one hand and singing loudly. You couldn't hear their singing though, the music was still too loud. Jaime was glad for it.
Brienne shook her head. "I already graduate."
"Are you on a date then?" he asked, leaning closer because he was tired of screaming. This time she didn't stiffen, obviously used to his closeness now.
"I don't want to talk about it," she said, looking straight ahead, her jaw set and taking another big, really big gulp. In fact, she downed all of it. Jaime raised his eyebrows while Brienne ordered another drink.
"I guess, it was a bad date?"
"I said, I don't want to talk about it."
"Oh, but I want to talk about it." Grinning from ear to ear he leaned closer until his shoulder was almost touching hers. She glanced at him. He touched her covered scar with one finger; she flinched slightly, but didn't move away. "You covered your scar -" his finger traveled from her scar to the hem of her blue blouse. It matches her eyes. "- and you're wearing nice stuff. Well, not nice, but nicer, which I guess is the nicest you have."
"I would like to punch you right now," Brienne growled, but she didn't punch him. Jaime was relieved. They did some boxing exercises at the gym and he knew how good she was at punching something; or someone.
"But you won't do it. So, tell me, why was your date so horrible?" Self-confidently he leaned back, sipping at his beer. For a moment Brienne looked at him – looked down at him, because he was just about two inches taller; actual they did measure themselves because of another challenge –, thinking and biting her big lips. Strangely Jaime's eyes darted to them and for a second he wasn't able to look away from them. They were nothing like Cersei's perfect lips; they were big, plump and chapped. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to stroke over them with his thumb, to kiss them, to move his tongue over them and then enter her mouth and -
"See that guy over there?" she asked and pointed to a dark-haired guy in a corner, bringing him back to reality. The guy was talking to a girl in a really short skirt – she looked like one of the students who had way too much to drink –, one arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him, and saying something in her ear. Jaime couldn't see him that well, but he decided that he wasn't pretty. Not as pretty as him at least.
On the other hand, there were basically no other man as handsome as him.
He nodded, looking back at her; not at her lips or his thoughts would start to wander off again and that would lead to another problem.
"I met him here today," Brienne said slowly, leaning closer to him, so she didn't had to scream. Her eyes, however, were fixed on her almost empty glass. Jaime hadn't even noticed when she got that drink. Or when she drank from it. She was definitely a fast drinker. "We're working together and over the last couple of weeks, he … he started to flirt with me. Said nice things, gave me some flowers and all that stuff. So as he asked me to come here today, I thought he would … y'know … actual like me."
She looked like she was having having pain to tell him about it. To comfort her, he rested his hand on her back, which moved lower than he expected. Yet he didn't moved it somewhere else. If it bothered her, she didn't show it.
"Anyway, we met here, and talked and drank something and … well …" She blushed. That was the Brienne he knew; always red as a tomato as soon as she even think about holding hands with someone. For a second Brienne looked at him with her pretty, really pretty eyes, but then looked away again. "I tried to … kiss him."
She sounded like she tried to murder someone, not trying to kiss her date in a bar. Briefly Jaime thought about making some joke about it, but it was so obviously that she was deadly embarrassed that he hadn't had the heart for it. Brienne didn't continue speaking. Instead she just looked down at her glass and drummed with her fingers against it.
"He didn't want to." That wasn't a question. Jaime already knew the answer. Frankly, he could understand that that guy didn't want to kiss someone that looked as unfortunate as her – but then again, Jaime thought that Brienne was worth to be kissed. Not for her looks, but for who she was. And if that guy couldn't see it, then he was an idiot.
Jaime wondered where that thought came from, but he blamed the alcohol and the tiny bit of loyalty he had for his training partner.
"Of course he didn't," Brienne said bitterly, but didn't look up from her drink. "He and some other guys had a bet who could get me to sleep with him. But he seemed to realized that he could never do it, even it he would be totally drunk. He just tried so hard, because he needs the money. In the end, even the money wasn't enough to make me bearable for him. Nobody would ever kiss me, not even if he was drunk and blind." She was quite for a moment and downed the rest of her drink again. "That were his words."
Jaime felt the anger boiling up inside of him. It was a different kind of anger that he felt when he looked at Cersei. With Cersei it had been partly jealousy, but now he was disgusted. How could any man treat a woman like that? He looked to the guy who was still talking into the girl's ear. "That's him?"
There must have been something in his voice that gave his intention away, because Brienne suddenly looked up and followed his gaze. He could take two long steps, than she grabbed his arm. "Don't".
"I just want to talk to him."
"No, you want to punch him."
"As if he wouldn't deserve it."
She didn't disagree. With her blue eyes she just starred at him, searching for something in his eyes. Somehow Jaime found it very hard to look away from her. "Why would you do it?"
"Because you don't deserve to be treated like that. If he could see past your looks, he would gladly kiss you. But if he can't do that, it's probably better he didn't kiss you."
"And you can see past my looks," Brienne said, obviously not believing him and thinking that he was mocking her. It struck him that she probably dealt with guys like him for all her life. Jaime leaned closer to her until there was barely any space left between them.
This time it was her who had to look away, her cheeks turning pink. Slowly she let go of his arm and turned back to her glass – which was again replaced with a full glass –, but Jaime didn't rush over to the guy to punch some sense into him. Instead, he had another idea. Carefully he went back to his spot next to her, just an inch between the two of them, and leaned forward to her ear. "You want to pay him back?"
"I'm not going to punch him."
"I don't mean that." She looked at him and raised one eyebrow. "Well, maybe you should punch him. But I had a different idea in my head."
"What kind of idea?" she asked wary. He gave her his most charming smile.
"Show him that someone would kiss you. Someone much more attractive than he'll ever be. Well, not just more attractive, but the most attractive guy in the whole city."
Her face turned red faster than ever before. At first Jaime thought Brienne would throw the her drink in his face; luckily she didn't seem like she wanted to waist the alcohol. Then he thought she would actually hit him, because he could see her clenching her fist. But she hesitated and Jaime thanked the Seven for it. Or the alcohol.
He didn't even know why he suggested it. Never once in his life did he think about kissing or touching anyone else than Cersei. However, Cersei was busy rubbing herself against Kettleblack. Besides, Jaime couldn't stop thinking what it would be like to kiss her big lips. Would kissing her be like working out with her? Would their tongues be fighting and wrestling to see who was better, just like every time in the gym? It was basically killing two, no, three birds with one stone; he could get back at Cersei, Brienne could get back at that asshole-guy and Jaime would find out what it would be like to kiss her. He told himself that he would surely stop thinking about kissing her, as soon as he knew what it would be like.
Utterly shocked with her mouth agape, Brienne looked at him. Patiently Jaime waited until she made her mind up. He hoped she would say yes. Several times it looked like she wanted to say something, but stopped at thought about it again.
"You're serious," she finally said.
"Of course I am."
"Why would you do that?" Before he could even open his mouth, she was talking again. Slowly he started to miss her more mute-like, sober self. At least he had enough time to speak then. "Is that some stupid joke or another bet? Are you in the same boat with them?"
"What? No! Why would I do that?"
"Well, tell me why you would offer to kiss me." She put her chin out and there was a glint in her eyes … Jaime recognized it as a wall. Brienne didn't believe that someone could have an actual interest in her, and definitely not someone as handsome as Jaime.
For a second he thought about telling her that he was deeply in love with her, that he always had been; but he throw the idea away pretty fast. She didn't deserve that. She deserved the truth.
However, Jaime thought it would be better if he didn't mentioned that he was having a hard time not attacking her lips right now. And that he had some kind of feeling for her, that he labeled as loyalty and somewhat friendship; but to be honest, he wasn't sure if it was the right name for the feeling.
"Look, just like you, I want to get back at someone. If we do this, we can make them both angry. It's a win-win situation."
She was still looking at him like he would start to laugh or do something equally cruel. Jaime wished she would drink more, because maybe it'll be more likely that she accept his offer when she is more relaxed or utterly drunk. But, no, she seemed to want to make the decision as sober as she could. It was three drinks too late for that though.
As she finally nodded, Jaime couldn't really believed it. Even though he had suggested it, he never really thought that she would accept it. Brienne never struck him as the kind of person who would just make out with a stranger. On the other hand, he wasn't really a stranger.
"You sure?" he asked. Maybe he had missed something and he didn't want to get his hope up – well, get his hope higher up, because his heart had start to beat rather fast.
"I am," she said and downed her drink. Maybe for courage. "Just do it, Lannister."
He couldn't stop grinning as he saw her really grim expression. She looked like she was facing a battle instead of making out with him. Gracefully he stepped closer, until he was only an inch away from her. Her eyes were as blue and as gorgeous as ever, even the flashing neon-ish lights couldn't change that. With one finger, he brushed a strand of her blond hair out of her forehead and leaned to her ear.
"We need to play it out the right way, Missy," he whispered, his lips almost touching her skin. His right hand traveled down the side of her body, until it stopped at the light curve at her hips. Why I am enjoying this so much? "It won't look real if we just start making out. We have to make them see that we want each other."
"M-Making out?" Jaime couldn't see her blush, but he could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks. He couldn't help but chuckle. "You said we should just kiss."
"To be honest, I don't think a simple kiss will do. We want to make them jealous, don't we? It'll take more than a little peck on the cheek to do that." Her eyes widened and for a second he thought she would back out.
Just as he wanted to ask her if she would rather stop, he saw the change in her eyes. Determination. She wanted to do it. Her hand was shaking as rested it on her chest, obviously trying to look like she was attracted to him. It would have worked better, if she wasn't tense and wouldn't be scowling at him. "I said, do it, Lannister."
Grinning, he raised his other hand and cupped her cheek with it. Slowly he brushed his thumb over her big lips. They were softer than he expected. His heart felt like he just ran a marathon and he leaned closer. "My name is Jaime," he whispered before he pressed his lips softly against hers.
Kissing Brienne was very different from kissing Cersei. For once, she was taller than him. He had to tilt his head in an unfamiliar – but not in a bad way – angle to kiss her. Her lips were so much bigger and plumper than Cersei's, chapped from biting on them in worry all the time. Not as skilled as Cersei, Brienne copied his moves. Under his fingertips he could feel that she was still tense and nervous; Jaime hoped that she wouldn't notice that he was just as nervous. He never kissed anyone else than his sister. He didn't even know if Brienne liked what he was doing. He didn't know how to please another woman.
Slowly he ran his tongue over her lips. She flinched slightly out of surprise, but didn't pull away; instead, she just parted her lips and his tongue darted in her mouth. He could taste her drink – whiskey – on her tongue and as soon she was used to the feeling of his tongue in her mouth, she relaxed and their tongues started to wrestle in their mouths. Jaime couldn't help but smile. It was better than he imagined. Brienne turned out to be very competitive in kissing as well. They battled for dominance, never backing away, trying to prove the other one to be better.
His hand have start to move on their own. At some point he had pulled her so close, not even a paper could fit between them. His hand on her cheek moved to her neck, making sure that her mouth stayed right there against his. The other hand started to explore her body. Her almost invisible curves, her ass, her small breasts, her endless legs – he just couldn't stop. It seemed like he always discovered something new. Her hands neither stood still. At first one hand ran over his beard stubble, the other moved up and down his chest. Right now, they were tangled in his golden hair, pressing him against her.
It was that moment; the moment she started to moan into his mouth, the moment he was harder than he expected, his cock twitching inside his jeans, the moment his heart wouldn't stop racing and his thoughts wouldn't stop turning to his blue-eyes Missy, that he realized, that he miscalculated.
He wouldn't be able to stop thinking about kissing her.
On the contrary: Jaime could never stop thinking about kissing her. And not just kissing.
He broke away from the kiss, breathing heavily and rested his fore headagainst hers. His eyes were closed because he had the slight feeling that he would do something very, very stupid if he looked into her eyes. He felt Brienne's hand entangled themselves out of his hair and resting on his shoulders. For a moment he had the horrible feeling, that she would just push him away, like Cersei always did. Jaime didn't want that. He didn't want Brienne to leave.
At least not without him.
"It would make them furious if we leave together." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. That wasn't the reason why he wanted to leave together with her, but he was afraid, that she would never say yes if she knew that. To be honest, he didn't know if she would say yes at all.
She was quite, so quite that Jaime thought that she hadn't heard his words. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked straight in the blueness of her eyes. She was just looking at him, her cheeks still flushed, her lips swollen from kissing and her breathing heavy. Unconsciously his hand went back to her cheek.
"You're right," she said finally. Jaime's eyes widened. "They would be."
Was that a yes? Did she just said yes? Jaime's mind was suddenly filled with pictures and scenarios how this night could end. What they could do; her long, long legs, her hips, her breasts, her - He willed himself to think of something differently. His cock was hard enough already.
Brienne took a step back and nodded toward the exit, looking at him questionably. Still not really believing that he had just so much luck, he nodded and followed her through the crowd, one hand a bit possessively around her waist. A part of him told him he was just touching her for the act. The bigger part told him that was a lie. If it bothered her, she didn't say anything.
The next day he remembered that he didn't looked back to Cersei and hadn't thought about her at all.
Jaime had to let go of her to get through the door. She could slip through it before him and it annoyed him that there were so many people around him, making at difficult for him to follow her at once. As soon as they were outside in the cold, fresh air, he looked around to find the tall, blond woman. He spotted her a few meters away, walking down the pavement. Quickly he jogged toward her, grinning widely as soon as he was next to her. Brienne smiled politely, but kept moving.
"So, should we go to your place?" he asked.
"What?" she asked back confused, but didn't stop walking.
"Well, you just keep walking, so I thought -"
"Oh no!" She stopped dead in her tracks. Jaime actually took another step, before he stopped and looked at her. With the poor light he couldn't read the emotions on her face well enough to know what she was thinking."No. Not your place and not my place. No place at all. You will go home and I will go home. By myself."
"What? But we just-"
"You said they would be furious if we leave together. We left. We don't have to keep up the act, they're not here to see it. You don't have to do anything."
Jaime would almost have believed her, if it wasn't for the blush that crept up her neck and face. She thought he wasn't serious. That it was all an act to make them jealous. Well, it had been an act. But that had been before he had kissed her and his body had reacted in such a way. Definitely before his thoughts wouldn't stop returning to her.
Slowly without looking away from her eyes, he moved closer to her. Brienne didn't took a step back, but she couldn't meet his gaze. "Tell me you didn't had any fun just right now," he said in a quiet voice. "Tell me you didn't had any fun and I will just leave." As she didn't say anything, he kept talking. Maybe he could convince her to just believe him that he didn't asked her to leave because of the others. "I had a lot of fun. And I would be more than happy to repeat it … or take it even further." Her face was almost crimson, but her feet were still more interesting than him. "I thought you would like to do that as well, Missy."
"I did like it," she said so quietly, he had almost missed it. A grin spread out on his face and a warm, fuzzy feeling swelled inside of his chest. She did like it. That was a start. Happily he raised a hand to her cheek again. But before he could touch her, she looked up and he saw at once that her stubbornness had returned. Of course. It was the stubborn Missy he was talking to."But I won't go home with you tonight. I guess, I see you at the gym. Good night, Jaime." Without another word, she stepped around him and continued to walk away from him.
Jaime didn't waited one second. He was next to her as fast as lightning. If she thought he would just let her go … well, then she hadn't met the real Jamie Lannister until now. "Where are you going then?"
"To eat something. I always get hungry when I drink something."
"Sounds perfect! I know the best burger place in King's Landing! You will love it."
Brienne tried to get rid of Jaime, but he wouldn't allow it. He stuck to her side like glue. She tried to make up some excuses, to turn another way, but he just put his arm around her waist to move her in the right direction. He insisted to buy the food and he was somewhat satisfied to see that Brienne ate just as much as he did. He couldn't say why; and as he saw how utterly ungraceful she ate her burger, not bothered by his presence or trying to impress him because she was way too hungry, he couldn't help but laugh.
They sat in the little restaurant for hours and Jaime asked her every question he hadn't asked before. Where she was from, where did she study, what is she doing, what is her favorite and her least favorite color, what is her favorite hobby, does she have any siblings and so much more. Basically every question that popped up in his head. She answered every question and as she said she was doing an internship at Winterfell Enterprise under Catelyn Stark, Jaime immediately offered her a job at Lannister Cooperation. She refused though. He was very disappointed and tried to convince her, but she wouldn't hear any of it. Brienne asked him a few questions herself, but most of the time Jaime just talked without being asked anything at all.
As the owner of the restaurant threw them out around 4.30 AM, Brienne had to drag Jaime out of the door, because Jaime didn't like to be thrown out somewhere and made a scene. Even though Brienne said she didn't needed to be seen home, Jaime walked all the way with her. She couldn't really stop him; she did try though, but then he just followed her like a stalker, talking to himself loudly, making sure she couldn't ignore him. Jaime's smug smirk wouldn't leave his face as she gave him her phone number and he was more than cocky as he could steal a goodnight-kiss from her. It was fairly innocent and short compared to the kiss they shared before, but it was better than nothing. On his way home, after Brienne closed the door in front of his nose because he had tried to get inside – just to tease her –, Jaime already made plans to ask her out properly.
A/N: I don't know why, but I had some problems to finish this one-shot. Maybe it's because I usually don't go partying in clubs. Or because I just arrived home after 8 months a week ago. So sorry if it's a bit OOC, I tried my best. What do you think of drunk/tipsy Brienne? Do you imagine her like that or completely different? Because in my eyes she would just turn bold and do things she regrets in the morning. Also, if you want to know some updates of my work, follow me on tumblr! All characters belong to GRRM. Cheers!