Work Text:
Sansa hates Marjorie--MarGAERY. From the way her name is spelt right down to the way she smirks at Sansa. MarGAERY is the worst customer to have ever graced the shop.
It's only been one week.
In a single week, Margaery turned from the most beautiful, simplest woman in the world to the most seductive, complicated business woman ever (even if her sister, Arya, disagrees that it's hardly a bad thing to have those qualities).
It starts on Monday.
She enters, striding in with ease, pushing her sunglasses up into her flowing tresses of chestnut revealing her alarmingly blue eyes. Sansa balks at the woman as she approaches the register.
"Hello," she has the crispest accent Sansa has ever heard that she swears is like sweet nectar. "Largo iced coffee black. For Marjorie."
Sansa swallows hard as she scrambles for a cup and scratches down the order. "Anything else for you today?" She tries not to feel flustered but the woman is staring at her with a smirk and her ears warm.
"Not today, Sansa."
When Tuesday rolls around, Sansa assumes she's going to be a regular.
This time Marjorie comes in with a mission. As soon as the bell rings, Sansa's ears perk up and their eyes meet immediately.
"What can I get for you?" Sansa tries to be cool.
"Midi iced green tea latte."
Not a difficult drink but who is Sansa to judge? As she begins to write down her name as hand falls on hers.
"You should know..." the woman begins with her sweet voice, "my name is spelled differently. It's actually M-a-r-G-A-E-R-Y."
Her sweet voice gets Sansa and she just nods numbly as she corrects herself. It isn't like she wants Margaery to like her or anything. She is just doing her job.
But she totally commits it to memory by the end of her shift.
Wednesday and Sansa is already wondering what Margaery is planning to order. Maybe this time (she hopes) she will be able to say something more than her usual script followed by a stream of unsure grunts. Arya insists that it's hilarious but she's also her annoying sister and coworker.
She's in the middle of bringing out a fresh batch of pastries when the bell rings and Arya practically yells, "Sans, your girl is here!"
The older Stark wants to strangle her sister but doesn't as the brunette approaches the counter. Sansa shoves the large tray of pastries at Arya and takes her post back at the register. She plasters a smile on her face.
It's met with a busy executive though because Margaery has her phone in her hand today with her Bluetooth ear piece blinking blue as Sansa catches mid-spout, "Don't think about letting that Baratheon into my office, Arianne, and tell her she can wait like everyone else who needs a loan."
Sansa looks at Margaery with inquisitive eyes and she immediately says with a huff, "What was that? Okay...One second, Arianne--" she looks back at Sansa with an award winning smile that warms her heart. "Midi iced mocha latte with soy milk, light on the ice."
The red head remains diligent as she scratches off the order onto a cup and spells Margaery's name with confidence. Before Sansa can even say anything, Margaery hands her card to swipe.
She tries her best not to pout as she gives Arya the cup to fix her drink. It gets even worse when Margaery remains on the phone the whole time and when Arya hands her drink, she turns the cup and wrinkles her nose. She doesn't say anything to either of the Stark sisters and leaves in a rush.
It's Thursday and Sansa doesn't know whether she should look forward to Margaery’s presence. How could she not though? Margaery looked like a goddess, exuded power like a queen, and smiled like an angel. Her only downfall was her displeasure in receiving her drink.
Sansa was sure she'd never get it wrong, her name and all. On top of that, Arya was the best barista (arguably next to Sansa) in the shop.
The only thing that kept Sansa positive was the fact that it was pay day.
"What is Ms. Exec going to order today, you think?" Arya mutters as she shuffles behind the bar next to and around Sansa to take care of the rush.
Sansa nearly burns her finger off with the hot water for tea as she turns to give it to the customer. She quickly takes the next order, hands Arya, the cup, takes the money, and slips in, "Why do you think I would have an answer for that?" before taking another order.
"Don't even kid with me," Arya says as she looks at the cup. She huffs loudly before picking up another cup and a pen. "I saw you looking at her LinkedIn last night."
Sansa blushes brightly as she gives the customer his coffee, takes his money, and asks for the next customer. After a stream of several hot drink orders, she catches a breath to hand Arya an order for a blended choco chip mocha.
"I was looking for purely professional reasons," the red head finally argues back before taking another order.
Arya growls at the cup and picks up another with her pen. "Suuuure you were," she jokes to her sister, "I am sure it's professional to gawk over her headshot for ten minutes."
Sansa can't dignify a response as the rush continues to teem in the shop. She's sure if she's actually looked behind or around her, their area would've looked like a tornado had blown through.
Just as the rush seems to end much later than usual, Sansa thinks they could catch a break, but the doorbell rings and they groan. That is until Sansa hears a familiar click of designer heels and her ear perk up akin to her dog, Lady. Arya snickers beside her and Sansa tries to ignore her subtle Pavlovian response.
It was worth it regardless because Margaery approaches the register looking even more amazing than the day before. And thank the gods, she's the last customer for the rush, because Sansa can soak in her appearance. Margaery’s suit is an onyx black (Sansa can see this with the lighting because it can't be just black), her silk blouse is an off white with green trimming that brings out her piercing eyes (it was not because she was staring at Margaery’s LinkedIn headshot to know her eye color), and her hair is in a high ponytail that exposes her neck down to her clavicle (and she is absolutely not thinking impure thoughts concerning the expanse of her neck).
Margaery raises an eyebrow as Sansa's eyes meet hers.
The older Stark rasps, "What can I get for you?" Margaery stifles her laugh just as Arya gives her sister an incredulous look before slapping her on the back.
Sansa coughs out a breath before clearing her throat to compose herself. It doesn't help the blush creeping up her neck straight to her ears though.
"I'm aware of the effect I can have, but you flatter me," Margaery teases as she playfully leans toward Sansa. She has this conspiratorial look on her face as she adds, "you should see me at work."
Sansa desperately tries not to get turned on by thinking of Margaery as her boss. Instead she stutters, "G-good morning, then?"
Margaery laughs this time and Sansa decides that she's embarrassed herself enough for one morning. Before anything else can be said a beep goes off consecutively. Margaery furrows her brow and pulls her phone out from her blazer. She glances at it and the intensity returns.
"Duty calls?" Sansa adds conversationally.
The business woman glances at Sansa almost regretfully before nodding. "Could I get a midi mocha frap with skim milk and caramel walls?" She asks with a sigh.
"Uh...okay," Sansa utters quietly, unsure of how to take Margaery’s sudden change in mood. What can she do? She works in the service industry. She writes the order quickly and finishes Margaery’s name with a smiley face. Hopefully that will cheer her up.
Arya takes the cup Sansa hands her and lets out an exasperated, "What?!"
"You alright?" Sansa asks her sister curiously.
Before she can get a response, a man rushes up to the counter out of breath, "Box of your best brew and a dozen donuts, as fast as you can please!" He throws the money on the counter and Sansa rushes to help what seems to be an intern from the finance building. They all dress the same. Poor guys.
By the time she finishes getting the intern's order (he rushes out leaving the change, which means excellent tip), Arya has finished Margaery's drink and places it on the counter saying, "Blended mocha, skim milk, caramel walls."
Sansa smiles at Margaery brightly as she grabs her cup, hoping to lighten her mood, but is instantly met with a look of disbelief. Her lips suddenly thin and she glares at Sansa as she walks out of the shop.
"What in seven hells did I do?" Sansa exclaims when Margaery is clearly on the other side of the doors.
It was a pretty shit day after that.
Thank the seven it's Friday. After a 6 day work week, Sansa is free to enjoy her weekend. The only thing is she swears to the Maiden that Margaery best not show up. If she does, she'll give that woman a piece of her mind.
"She is so infuriating," Sansa rants as she lets out her frustration by taking on the drinks during the rush this time. "Frankus!" Sansa yells as she slams down the blended coffee. "Honestly, Arya, just because she's some money making, sexy, woman in power, does not mean she gets to go all moody on us."
"Preach it, sister!" Arya eggs on as she throws her a stack of 4 cups at her.
Sansa rushes to make all of the lattes and continues, "One second she flirts and the next she glares at me as if I've offended her whole ancestry." If there's one thing she's better than Arya at it is making cold and blended drinks without complaint and of course, getting people's names correctly. She finishes the four latte orders and reads off the names, "Sule, Annie, Gelean, Pal!"
Arya was always better at screaming the order itself. She seemed to think people knew their orders better than their own names. Then again, in all honesty, Arya didn't care for their names; she wanted people to get their orders and leave.
Friday rushes are far worse than Thursday because everyone seems to try and spend a few less minutes at the office by stopping in for a coffee. Excellent for business but a terror for Arya and Sansa. It doesn't help when two of four blenders suddenly break and Sansa gets backed up with 6 blended coffees on two working blenders.
She hopes beyond hope Margaery doesn't show up because on top of a bad morning, she really hates that beautiful, professional, pretentious, business, succubus right now.
By the time she finishes, she is too flustered to care who walks in and hopes it is the last customer for the rush. Sansa leans against the counter with her head bowed to mentally prepare herself for the last drink.
Arya slips the cup under arm into her line of vision.
It's an order for a largo, half-caff ristretto, breve upside down caramel macchiato, extra caramel, light ice, with a mocha wHIP AND SUGAR CRUMBLE? You've got to be kidding! Sansa snatches up the cup and looks for the name of the god awfully complicated human who was sick enough to order it.
Margo.
!!! Sansa tries her hardest not to internally screech. She keeps her head down to remain professional and makes the disgustingly pretentious drink as she can.
Mocha whip...and sugar crumble, DONE! Sansa slams the drink on the counter and practically seethes as she yells, "MarGO!"
"Excuse me?!" An all too familiar voice exclaims in return with an even more familiar click of designer heels.
Sansa would blanch on any other day, but she feels the wolf spirit of her family snap and she returns with, "What?!"
Margaery looks so flustered at Sansa's reaction. It's the first time, Sansa sees the brunette anything if not composed or flirtatious. It makes her heart sort of swell and race inappropriately.
"How hard is it to get a name right?" Margaery answers as she snatches up the drink.
"Come off it, Margaery, it's not even yours!" Sansa rolls her eyes.
"Of course, it's mine, I ordered it!"
Sansa pauses for a second and looks at Arya, who merely shrugs. "Arya!"
Her little sister still has the audacity to hold back a brimming laughter
"ARYA!" Sansa actually screeches this time. Realizing what could have gone wrong. This whole effing time.
Arya falls into a full bodied laugh, forcing her sister to snatch her up by twisting her ear. "Ow! Ow ow ow ow ow! Sansa calm down! By the old gods, you're bloody killing me!"
"Why on earth?! You know Margaery’s name!"
Arya is shrinking in pain while Sansa keeps her vice grip on Arya's ear between her index and middle fingers. "You talk about her all the time, of course, I know!" She holds back a whimper before adding, "Let me go, Xena!"
Sansa flushes at the admission and tugs a bit harder. "Have you been messing with her order all week?"
"How could I not?!" Arya argues as she tries to slap her older sister's hand away. "She orders complicated arse drinks along with these other mindless blokes!"
"Arya!" She scolds.
She doesn't get to finish when Margaery yells with her authoritative and business like voice, "Can someone explain to me what in gods name is going on?!"
The yelling and yelping cease immediately. Sansa drops her grip on her little sister and Arya lets out a relieved sigh. The two of them look completely embarrassed and are thankful that their mother is out of town or she would've had a cow at them fighting in the shop.
"Well?" Margaery stands there with an expectant look.
Sansa sighs when Arya doesn't speak. "Look, I am sorry for the misunderstanding. My sister enjoys tormenting the customers who order ridiculous drinks by messing up their names." Margaery raises an eyebrow. "Not to say you're ridiculous! By no means at all!" Her eyes seem to tell Sansa to continue and it freaks her out to be able to read Margaery’s expressions. "Usually, she does it when she's at the register but I suppose she's been trying to mess with me as of recent."
Margaery looks between the two as if they had dragons’ heads.
That's when Arya finally steps forward and tells the truth, "She's telling the truth. Honest! She's commit your name, spelling and all, to memory since you told her. She has a huge lesbian crush on you like no other, so she has been trying to get on you all week."
"Arya!" Sansa screams for what seems like the 30th time that morning. She feels her cheek blaze at her sister's stupid confession and feels the tire marks on her back.
When the red head turns to apologize profusely, Margaery merely stands there with her cheeks just as flushed as Sansa's. It was ridiculously cute because Margaery starts to stammer suddenly.
The stammers are so uncharacteristic and incoherent. Sansa can't even translate them or begin to understand what Margaery intends to say.
The doorbell suddenly jingles and a loud clacking of heels follow from a woman with beautifully sun kissed skin and wavy black hair. Undoubtedly the most beautiful woman from Dorne the Starks had ever seen.
The woman looks like she ran a distance with her dress coming askew and hair like wind blew through it as she yells, "I SAW ON TWITTER THE STARK SISTERS WERE FIGHTING! I CAME TO CHECK ON YOU MARG!"
Both of the sisters look at each other with a blush. Mother was going to see that tweet soon enough. Regardless, Sansa's heart sort of drops at this beautiful woman now clinging to Margaery's expensive suit affectionately.
Margaery blushes and stiffens in place as the woman practically drapes her. "I am quite alright, Arianne. No need for you to have left your desk."
The woman, Arianne, laughs and slaps at the brunette's arm playfully much to Sansa's displeasure. "Come on, Marg, the work is already done and you were taking too long with my coffee."
Arya and Sansa simultaneously raise their eyebrows at the woman they thought was the executive.
"Oh! My drink!" Arianne notices and snatches it out of Margaery’s grip for a taste. She lets out a moan of satisfaction. "This is delightful! Have you tipped the barista you've been on all week about yet?"
Arya lets out a low (and childish), "Oooooooh."
Both Sansa and Margaery just stare at one another. Far too embarrassed to say anything. They were relieved to at least know the feelings were mutual. Right?
"Arianne, can you go back to the office?" Margaery's voice tightens. Arianne pouts because she knows that voice but proceeds to leave the shop.
"Thank you, hot red haired barista!" Arianne all but yells from the door.
When the Dornish woman is gone, Margaery slowly approaches the register with an apologetic voice.
"Sorry, my personal assistant is the mindless bloke that enjoys ridiculous," Margaery apologizes sincerely.
"I'm sure she's not a mindless bloke," Arya reddens at her apology. "Sorry, if it ruined anything with my sister."
Sansa hushes her sister. "Could you clean this mess, Arya?" She says instead with her eyes still on Margaery. Arya nods and takes her leave, pretending not to listen to what they were going to start discussing. "So none of those drinks were yours?"
Margaery purses her lips playfully and shakes her head, "Just the iced coffee. Then I realized we had a stock room full of black coffee."
"Oh."
"My assistant decided to send me on the coffee run so I could work up the nerve to speak to you."
Sansa looks at her, confused. "You always looked busy."
"Like half of the time." There's this sheepish smile with the admission.
"Oh."
They lapse into silence.
Sansa bites her bottom lip before blurting out at the same time Margaery requests, "Can I buy you a drink?" "Can I take you to dinner?"
They both shared an awkward and abashed laugh but it feels easy. Margaery smiles more genuinely like a weight has been lifted off her chest. Sansa smiles ear to ear because this has been the best moment of her week.
Margaery asks lightly, "Shall we go for drinks or dinner?"
For a business woman, Margaery sure was shy. Sansa liked it very much because it seemed Margaery was shy around her.
"How about dinner and we can see if we make it to drinks?"
Margaery has a devilish grin and Sansa realizes what she had implied from her response. Sansa doesn't even get to apologize because Margaery flirts right back, "I love a woman who can negotiate." Her cheeks blush once more and she swears she is going to pass out one day. "Tomorrow at 6?"
"You're both gross!" Arya groans as she pauses sweeping. Blatantly interrupting the mood.
Sansa rolls her eyes and turns back to the woman. She nods in response to contain her excitement.
Then Margaery does the most business like thing but it's suave and sort of sexy because her watch beeps. She stretches out her arm and it's one of those watches connected to her phone. She taps it quickly. "I am sorry, I've got a meeting in 10." Then reaches into her blazer and pulls out a card between her index and middle finger. It's seductive as she leans slightly forward to hand the card to Sansa. "My personal number is on the back. Call me."
Sansa definitely has to remind herself to breathe as she plucks the card out of Margaery's fingers because Margaery winks at her and turns with her hair whipping elegantly behind her as she exits. There's a lingering look through the glass that sends Sansa in a loop.
Arya lets out an audible gag that makes her laugh. All Sansa does instead is look down at the card embossed with
Tyrell Corporation
Margaery Tyrell
Chief Executive Officer
It's a bit pretentious but Sansa could do far worse.