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All Brienne Wants for Sevenmas

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  • A feather boa.
  • A corset and thong.
  • Garter belt with stockings.
  • 6” Lucite platform heels.

Brienne Tarth grinned to herself as she completed her Sevenmas list for the office exchange. She’d been working at Baratheon & Stark for almost ten years, beginning when she’d interned while in college. She’d participated in every Sevenmas gift exchange. Not once had she ever gotten something on her list. Not once.

It wasn’t just that she hadn’t gotten something off her list, it was that she’d never even gotten anything close to one of her requests. The year she’d put ankle and arm weights on her list, she’d gotten a pasta maker. The time she’d asked for a kitchen herb garden, she’d gotten concert tickets to a band she didn’t even like. When Hyle Hunt had gotten her name, he’d given her a bottle of Connington tequila, which was so terrible it would eat the enamel off of her teeth. 

Every year, Brienne put thought and care to each and every gift she gave. When she’d drawn Loras Tyrell and he’d requested a Luwin Airwrap hair dryer (an item costing five times more than the stated gifting limit), she’d instead gotten him a gift certificate for a scalp massage and hair deep conditioning treatment. He’d been thrilled. When Sansa Stark had put, “something pretty” on her list, Brienne had found her an antique brush, comb and mirror set, engraved with roses and direwolves. Sansa had almost cried. 

It wasn’t just that Brienne’s co-workers weren’t very thoughtful in their gift-giving, it was that Brienne was certain that no one ever opened her list. Two years ago, she’d put, “a punch in the face,” on her list and gotten a complete set of bakeware. Last year, she’d asked for an autopsy and gotten a basket of coconut-scented body wash and lotions. Brienne hated coconut and just gave the whole thing to a local homeless shelter.

This year, she’d decided to have even more fun with her list. She’d probably get a set of candles that smelled like food. She sealed up her envelope and wrote her name on the front and slipped it into the Sevenmas exchange box with a grin. 

Two days later Brienne sat down at her desk and looked at the envelope she’d drawn for the Sevenmas gift exchange. Podrick Payne. Drawing him was a treat. He’d only been with the company for six months, coming in with Jaime Lannister’s auditing team一

Brienne’s brain screeched to a halt. If Podrick had put his name in for the exchange, had the rest of the auditing team done so as well? Oh gods! She took three deep breaths. It might be alright if Pia Peckledon drew her envelope. She’d developed a decent relationship with Pia. The woman would know it was a joke. If Podrick had drawn her name he would probably be embarrassed and give her a MaesterCard gift card. She could explain. He would understand and appreciate her frustration with her co-workers.

Jaime though? If Jaime had drawn her envelope…

Brienne felt as if a combination of ice and fire were flowing through her veins. Though her relationship with Jaime had started out rocky, in the past three months, they’d become friends. It began with working lunches, then had moved to them ordering in dinner when they worked late. They even met at the gym four mornings each week to work out together before heading into the office. Twice last week, they’d gone out for dinner after work and not talked about the audit at all. She thought of him as her closest friend.

Oh hells, who was she kidding? She had a massive crush on him. What woman wouldn’t? Jaime Lannister was god-like. Wait, no he wasn’t. The Seven were sexless beings on pedestals. Jaime was lust in human form. His abs looked like they were carved in Tarthian marble. His skin glowed with health. His hair was like a halo of gold. She’d actually touched that hair once when she’d helped him wrap his Tarthian wool scarf around his neck in the proper manner. His hair was soft and silky and sexy. Jaime’s eyes? Dear gods, his eyes. They were green, and not that sort of green that was on the border of being brown, like a bad avocado. No, Jaime’s eyes were green like emeralds, and they sparkled. Sometimes those eyes sparkled at her. When she’d taken all of the carrots out of his mixed vegetables because she knew he hated them, and given him all of her cauliflower, those damn eyes of his blazed like wildfire. Then he’d smiled at her and she’d smiled back, showing her teeth and everything. 

There was not a sane, heterosexual woman in Westeros who wouldn’t have a crush on Jaime Lannister after that. 

Brienne acknowledged to herself that the raciness of her Sevenmas exchange list might have, just might have, been somewhat, slightly influenced by that dream she had about Jaime the other night. The one where she’d shown up at his office wearing nothing but a trench coat, lingerie and heels. She’d peeled off the trench; he’d cleared off his desk and then things had gotten steamy. Her list had nothing at all to do with the dream she had of being in the shower at the gym and Jaime joining her carrying a bottle of pink body wash and wearing nothing but his winter scarf. 

Truly, she’d never meant Jaime to see the list. Dear gods, she hoped that Renly had pulled her envelope. No matter what her list said, he’d get her a four dozen perfectly ripe Arbor pears, certain to go bad before she could eat them all.

Brienne took a deep breath. If Jaime and his team were in the gift exchange, that would mean there was an eleven to one chance of Jaime choosing her envelope. There was no need to panic. No need to panic at all. She could remain perfectly calm. She was a professional. Everything would be fine. Just fine. She could hold it together the next time she saw Jaime…which would be in his office after five to go over those reports and maybe grab dinner afterwards.

Oh gods, she thought as she covered her face with her hands. She had to meet with him in less than an hour. She had to find out if he’d drawn her for the exchange.

Jaime Lannister sat alone in the bathroom stall hoping no one would come in. Back when they were children, Tyrion had bought him a can of fart spray as a gag gift. He actually wished he had it with him now. He wasn’t above faking dropping a deuce in the 10th floor men’s room just to get some time alone.

He looked down at the pale blue paper in his hand. If he hadn’t suspected it before, he was certain of it now.

Brienne Tarth was trying to murder him.

When he’d first brought his team in for the audit, she had worn pants every day. Nice pants that showed off her fantastic ass, especially when she wore those cropped suit jackets. Sometimes her blouse would come a little untucked though, so there would be a peek of white between the bottom of the jacket and the waistband of her pants, drawing his attention to that amazing ass.

Then, after they’d started having meetings in his office during lunch, and often working late, she’d begun wearing skirts. During the warmer months, her legs would be bare, all caress-able muscle and captivating freckles. As it had gotten colder, she’d begun wearing sheer stockings and damn if her legs didn’t look even sexier with the sheen of the tights emphasizing the length of her legs. A few weeks ago, she’d slipped off her shoes and flexed her feet, showing off her sparkly blue toenails.

Like her eyes. So damn blue. The other day when she’d adjusted his scarf, standing so close to him he could smell the warmth of her skin, those eyes had locked with his and then she’d licked her lips before smiling at him. Jaime almost exploded right then and there.

But it wasn’t just how innately sexy Brienne was that was killing him. It was her incredible kindness. When she ordered in Pentoshi for them, she always asked for no garlic in the rice, just the way he liked it. It was Brienne who’d arranged for the maintenance department to fix the wheel on his desk chair. Brienne listened to him and talked to him and laughed with him. She was so incredibly good.

She was definitely trying to kill him.

Just the other day, she’d mentioned the office Sevenmas gift exchange, and made a joke about always asking for exactly what she wanted before she did that flirty thing where she looked over her shoulder at him and smiled as she was leaving his office. Of course that meant he was supposed to sign up for the exchange. Then she’d submitted her list on her distinctive pale blue stationary, just so he’d know to choose her envelope. And he had.

Now he sat on a toilet, alone and pathetic in the men’s room, praying someone would think he was taking a healthy one, when in reality all he wanted was to unzip his pants, pull his cock out and relive that fantasy he’d been having about walking into his office to find Brienne sitting on his desk wearing nothing but her bra, panties and sheer tights. Only in this new fantasy, she’d be wearing a feather boa, a corset, a thong, a garter belt, thigh high stockings and heels.   

Jaime had to get himself under control before their meeting. While he’d suggested the meeting at five, she’s the one who said they should grab dinner after. Gods. Did she mean dinner at her place? Or his? Had she’d been sending him signals all along and he’d been missing them? How many months of incredible sex with her had he missed because he was completely oblivious?

Tyrion had told him that his flirting skills were lacking, but Jaime really thought Brienne would get the picture that he wanted to date her when he ogled her at the gym and complimented her deadlift form. Or at least she had to know when he compared her eyes to the neon blue of her sports drink. Hells, he even wiped a bit spicy sauce off of her lip with his thumb last week. He’d been certain she’d picked up on his signals and would launch herself at him right there in the office. But she hadn’t.

Maybe his flirting skills weren’t up to par. Or maybe she wanted him to make the first move. He’d never made a first move before. What did a first move even entail? It was his experience that women did that. 

Whatever the confusion before, it was clear that Brienne had finally gotten tired of waiting for him and had used the Sevenmas exchange to make her intentions known.

What was he supposed to do? Buy her everything on the list, and invite her over to model it? 

Jaime closed his eyes and took three deep breaths. The very thought of Brienne in 6” heels and skimpy underwear… She’d shimmy up to him and wrap that boa around his neck, pulling his face to hers and they’d…

Jaime grabbed a bit of toilet paper to mop his brow. He needed to get himself in control. He could do this. He stood up and looked down at the front of his tented trousers. Godsdammit, he would not masturbate in the office washroom. Maybe he could find an icepack.

He stuffed Brienne’s Sevenmas list in his pocket and proceeded to replay his last meeting with Walder Frey in his mind. That would take care of the problem.

Fifteen minutes later, when he thought he had the issue under control, Jaime walked into his office, and the problem returned with a vengeance.


Brienne had made a circuit of the entire department, casually mentioning the Sevenmas exchange. Perhaps she was being paranoid, well, she knew she was being paranoid, but she had a strong suspicion that Jaime had drawn her envelope.

She had to get it back before he opened it. She had almost no chance, but she had no other choice. It wouldn’t look strange if she went into Jaime’s office, not at all. She was in his office or he in hers on most days. There had even been some jokes made about them sharing a desk. They did. Sometimes. Share a desk that is. It was just easier to look over the audit data if they sat together. Jaime liked to perch on the arm of her chair and lean over her. It only made sense that she’d occasionally put an arm around his waist to help him balance. 

Brienne smiled, not at all awkwardly, at Podrick as she walked into Jaime’s office and shut the door. She made her way around his desk and began riffling through the documents on top. No envelope. A lot of doodles on his blotting pad though. She’d not noticed that before. Swoopy alphabet letters, Bs and Ls, Ts and Js all interspersed with little curlicues. In between the letter designs were little notes in less elaborate script, “Loras is a snotrag,” “Check Pia’s dental plan” and “Film Brienne’s lift intervals at gym???” What was that about?

Brienne couldn’t let herself get distracted, at the same time she felt guilty about going through Jaime’s drawers. What if there were something personal in there? She steeled herself. It was either violate his privacy or die of her own Sevenmas-induced humiliation. She opened the first drawer. Just some blue pens, sticky notes, general office supplies. The second drawer down only held neatly ordered hanging files. 

The other side of the desk was up against the wall. If she went all the way around the desk to that side, anyone who came in would certainly know what she’d been up to, but she had long arms. She could just reach across. She pulled out the desk chair, leaned over and opened the top drawer. There was an envelope in there! A blue one! She prayed it hadn’t been opened. She had just gotten her fingers on the envelope when the desk chair began to slide out from underneath her. She twisted and grabbed at it to regain her balance.

Jaime thanked all the Seven gods, the Old Gods, the Drowned God, the Fire God and whatever the fuck it was they worshiped in Qohor. Brienne had been tired of waiting for him! She was in the midst of laying herself out on his desk chair, firm bottom in the air, legs on display and the way her blouse was draped showed the top of her breasts peeking out above pale pink lace. She looked even better than in any of his fantasies.

She was making the first move! Thanks gods!

Jaime slammed the door shut as Brienne repositioned herself to look even more enticing, not that he needed more encouragement. He finally understood what was meant by a “come hither look.” Her eyes were wide as if in surprise, her mouth slightly open and teeth biting that luscious lower lip. He knew exactly what he should do.

Jaime came around the desk, put his hands around her waist, twisted her to face him, lifting her up and sitting her on his desk in front of him. He made his own move, smashing his face against hers in the world’s most awkward first kiss.

Brienne blinked her eyes open, noting the morning light streaming through the gaps in the curtains. Jaime’s curtains. Jaime’s bedroom curtains. The very Jaime who was wrapped around her and lightly snoring in her ear. She wasn’t quite sure how she had gone from trying to steal her exchange list to making out with Jaime on his desk, but they’d left the office soon after, heading back to her house ‘because it was closer’. She’d barely gotten a wink of sleep that night. She thanked all the gods that the condoms she’d gotten three years ago from Theon Greyjoy in his “dirty weekend” Sevenmas gift basket hadn’t yet expired.

They had, of course, to come up for air at some point. Air and Pentoshi takeout, no garlic. It had given them a chance to talk, and once Jaime began talking, there was no stopping him. Not that she’d wanted to, considering every other sentence out of his mouth was a compliment. Unbelievably he was just as enamored of her as she was of him. They’d spent every single night together since doing things that were much, much better than her dreams.

What they had done last night though? She blushed to the tips of her toes.

For the first time ever, Brienne had gotten every single item on her Sevenmas gift exchange list.