Drink Me
Tyrion rubbed his hands together, watching the girls and his brother at the bar.
Sansa and Arianne were chatting warily. Well, warily for them. His children’s librarian slash assistant extraordinare was giving a warmer version of her show smile, carefully pinned red curls one head shake from falling over her face. Arianne was leaning forward with her shoulders folded in, something she probably didn’t recognize she was doing.
"Which one do you think has better…" Shae sounded properly amused, at least.
“Freckles,” Tyrion interrupted, a touch more dreamily than he intended. But the pretty white peasant blouse… Shae poked him with a stirrer.
Rhaenys and Jaime were talking, the scary-pretty programmer coaxing Jaime into animation. Rhaenys turned to look at them, with her skeptical eyebrows in place. “Are we planning drinks or what?”
"The skittles vodka thing?" Sansa asked curiously. Tyrion waved his list around.
"Already there, Stark," he said.
"Can we do chocolate screwdrivers?" Arianne asked. "I’ve always meant to try making them." Tyrion thought about it.
"We should be tasting these, shouldn’t we? We need lots of girly drinks," he said.
"Girly drinks?" Shae asked. "I’m sorry, who drinks cosmos in this relationship?”
Sansa at least tried not to smile.
"You do know I hang out with Tony Stark, right?" Rhaenys pointed out.
"Hanging out?" Tyrion waggled his eyebrows. He and the Greyjoy boy had a bet running on what exactly that friendship was about. Had been about. Whatever.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m really surprised this is place won’t have female dancers.”
"I’m trying to get Jaime to dance," he said brightly.
Arianne and Sansa looked at Jaime speculatively.