I own nothing! It all belongs to George R. R. Martin.

I really wanted to make a modern Sansan fanfiction, and I have had this idea in my head for such a long time! So I decided to write it and post it, I hope that you guys like it!

Almost all characters are aged up, but they don't have the same age difference as in the book/show. Sansa is 25, Joffrey is 27, and Sandor is 44, I hope no one has a problem with that (at least no one is underage in this fic!)

This first chapter is a little (okay, VERY!) inspired by the movie "The Bodyguard", and as you can see, the title is also taken from that movie ^^

Enjoy! And remember that reviews are love!

Sandor Clegane was the best bodyguard in the city, probably in the entire country, and everybody knew it, especially him. That's why when he was ordered by his boss to do this job, he felt so angry.

He had been trained to deal with extremely dangerous situations. He could fight against the most skilled assassins and all kinds of other scum with an ease that made it look like he was born to fight. He had fought in the civil war that had ended the Dictatorship in Westeros. He had spent his entire career protecting important people: the Lannisters, no less, the richest family in the country of Westeros. He had protected even the President, Robert Baratheon, and he was completely sure that if he had been with Robert when he was killed, he wouldn't have been killed. And he'd been working protecting that Presindent's son since the boy was a little four-year-old brat. Joffrey Baratheon was a young spoiled brat that had a big mouth and no brains, but he was an important person nonetheless. He was going to be the next President, although he was only twenty-seven years old.

So when that little prick had ordered him to take care of another person that night, Sandor had been furious…

…Because Joffrey had sent him to take care of a singer.

Not that that singer in particular wasn't important. She was Joffrey's fiancée, Sansa Stark. She also came from a wealthy and very influential family. Her father had been the Vice President and the childhood best friend of Robert Baratheon. He had also died shortly after the President and no one knew who did it. They did know, however, that it had been a very messy business, with a lot of blood and gore involved. Sandor didn't know the details, and it was no hair off his arse.

Sandor arrived at the stadium were his boss's fiancée was going to sing that night, and walked in through the backstage door dressed in his black work suit and dark glasses, just like always. Nobody stopped him because they all recognized him immediately: tall, fierce-looking and with half his face burnt. He was never mistaken for someone else.

"Sandor!" a man exclaimed, approaching him. Sandor raised his eyebrows, bothered at being treated with such familiarity by a stranger. "We were waiting for you! We were so worried you were not going to come."

He looked around him to check the place out and get familiar with it. He frowned when he saw no other security there.

"Am I the only one here?" he rasped.

"Yes…well, others were going to come, as always, but… We don't know what happened; they didn't pick up their phones, and none of them showed up. We were desperate, but when Sansa called her boyfriend he told us that you would come. You were our only hope, or she would have been alone tonight" the man said, a bit nervous after seeing Sandor's expression.

"And can't she be alone? It's only a fucking concert," again he rasped, irritated. He didn't see how a buggering artist could be threatened, and he had better things to do than wasting his time watching over an annoying girl's back.

"There are thousands of hysterical fans out there that want to get to her!" the man exclaimed, alarmed. "They would crush her if they managed to get past the security lines!"

Sandor grunted and rolled his eyes. He didn't really think that it was that much of a big deal, but he shut up. His boss had decided that he was to do this job, and it was only one night, so he accepted like the good dog that he was. He would take care of the bloody girl singer and take her home safe and sound so that he was free of her.

He didn't give much thought to the fact that, even if the girl lived in the Red Keep (the President's house) with the rest of the Baratheon/Lannister family, he had never seen her. Either she was always locked in her room or she was out practicing for a concert or recording a new album or on a world tour. Sandor had never, ever, seen the girl. He had heard that she was a beauty, he sometimes heard other bodyguards talking about her, but not Joffrey. Sandor thought that his boss didn't really care too much for his fiancée, but it wasn't his business. Maybe that was better, that way maybe he would get rid of having to go and take care of her.

He checked the perimeter to make sure that everything was in order. Not that he thought that anything would be out of place, but it was pure simple routine and he was used to it as any good bodyguard was. When he saw that everything was alright, he approached the stage. The concert hadn't started yet, and the fans that had come to see their idol were getting impatient. It was way too loud. Sandor had expected to see only little girls and preteens or something, but he found that there were people of both genders and of all ages, all calling loudly for the star to finally come out. He saw girls, boys, teenagers, women and men, all shouting and waving little sticks with lights of bright colors, and some of them were holding posters with messages. A group of young men in their twenties had a huge poster with the words 'MARRY ME SANSA!' written on it. It only made Sandor frown even more.

All this because of a fucking singer? The world is crowded with useless idiots, he thought irritated.

He didn't like singers, or any kind of artists, with their beautiful faces, their fake smiles, the drama, the lies (although he didn't like politicians because of that either), their glamorous lifestyles and all that shit. They only had birds in their fucking empty heads, and no sense of the real world. And worse, they created more air-headed people with their buggering songs about romance and shit like that. It was all useless.

Suddenly the lights faded away in the stadium and colorful ones lit up the stage, and fog filled the place while music started to pound loudly through the speakers and the people that played the instruments came out. The concert had started. After a small intro, Sansa Stark appeared on stage, greeting her fans with her arms wide open, and thousands of people screamed her name.

Sandor found himself staring in awe at the young woman, unaware of the stunned face that he had. He couldn't take his eyes off her, she was beautiful. No, she was more than beautiful. She was fucking perfect.

She was younger than her fiancée, having recently turned twenty-five. She had long auburn curls that looked red under a certain light. She was tall but very fit, with long legs, a tiny waist, and big round breasts. Her face was that of an angel, all white perfection. He couldn't see the color of her eyes from where he was standing, but he imagined that they would also be beautiful, judging by everything else that he could see. Sansa was dressed for the concert in a very girly pink and puffy mini dress.

And when she sang… Fucking buggering hells, he forgot for a moment that he despised music. He had never heard a more beautiful sound in the world, even though it was pop music and he despised that genre of music more than the others. He despised all music, but he loved that voice. It was sweet, like honey.

He didn't even notice that he had been standing in the same place for two hours, watching the entire show, watching Sansa singing all her songs and dancing and smiling and going away for a few minutes every now and then, only to come back with a different outfit every time. He just couldn't take his eyes off her…

…Until she went backstage again, only this time through the side of the stage where Sandor was standing. She wasn't looking to where she was going and she almost crashed into him, but he moved out of the way. His movement caught her attention and she stopped walking, raising her head to look at him.

"Pardon me, ser…" her words died in her mouth when she saw him. But she wasn't looking him in the eyes, she was looking at the side of his face, where the flesh was burnt and horribly scarred. Sandor could finally see her eyes; they were amazingly blue and beautiful, big and bright. But they were instantly filled with horror upon seeing his face, and it angered him.

"What? You've got no pretty words for this?" he rasped mockingly, trying to control the anger in his voice.

She tried to say something, but she couldn't. She knew that he was her bodyguard that night, sent by her fiancée to protect her, so she tried to hide the horror and terror in her face.

"I'm sorry" she repeated, and she walked away from him. She picked up a bottle of water and drank from it while a guitar solo was going on outside on the stage to entertain the people, and once she was refreshed, she went back out to keep singing, and her smile was back on her face. That angered Sandor as well, the fact that she could smile to all those thousands of buggers, but she had not managed to even look at him.

Are you surprised? Stupid dog, why would she look at you? She'll probably be praying that she'll never have to see your horrible face ever again.

He didn't want to watch her anymore. He walked away from where he had been standing for hours watching her, admiring her. But he could not stop listening to her. Suddenly he hated the sound of her voice and he didn't want to hear it for a single minute more.

Then he realized that while he'd been watching her, he hadn't taken care of his duties as bodyguard. He mentally cursed at her for distracting him from his job, something that no one ever done in his life.

The concert ended not long after that. The music stopped, and Sansa came backstage, sweaty and tired, but with a big smile on her face. Her crew cheered and applauded her for her successful night.

"You were fantastic, Sansa!" a woman exclaimed.

Yes, she was, Sandor thought spitefully.

A crashing sound caught his attention. He didn't know where it came from at first, until he saw the riot of fans that had somehow broken their way in, and were now screaming like madmen and running towards Sansa, who was frozen in place.

"How did they get back here?!" the man that had spoken before with Sandor shouted. "Get them out! GET THEM OUT!"

There were hundreds of people in there and it was chaos. A sea of hands reached out to Sansa, and suddenly she was lost between all of the crazy fans.

"SANSA!" shouted someone of the crew.

Sandor didn't give it a second thought. He ran towards where all the people were, and he pushed them to the side, carelessly throwing them to the floor as he made his way to Sansa. She had lost her balance and fallen to the floor with all those people pushing and pulling from her, and she was covering her head with her little hands, trying to protect herself from being crushed. Sandor arrived at her side and picked her up in his arms. When the fans saw such a huge man with such a terrifying face picking up their idol, they were scared and finally stepped back, a moment that he used to get away from there. Those who hadn't seen Sandor tried to follow him, but he ran to the back exit and kicked it open, rushing towards his black car parked out back. He opened the door and left Sansa in the back seat and quickly put her safety belt on before closing the door, and going around the car to get inside the driver's seat. He drove away from the parking just as the riot of hysterical fans came running out of the stadium. They tried to follow the black car, but in a matter of seconds it had left them all behind, and Sansa was safely on her way home.

Sandor didn't speak, and there was silence until he heard the girl weeping in the back seat. He raised his eyes to look at her through the rearview mirror. Sansa had curled up in a fetal position on her seat and she was leaning against the door and the window, as far away from him as possible.

"Do I frighten you so much, girl?" he rasped. She met his eyes on the mirror, and she looked confused. Her hair was a mess from the little incident with the mob, and her tears had made her makeup run all over the place. But it was undeniable that even with those pitiful looks, she was still incredibly beautiful.

Slowly, she shook her head.

"N-no… No, it's not you" she said in a quiet voice, almost a whisper. "Thank you… for saving me."

Sandor wanted to scoff and make some sarcastic comment, but he found himself unable to. Instead, he just slightly nodded and kept driving.