Chapter Text
“Bolton!” Roose heard the deep voice barking at him and looked up as Tywin came into his office, Ramsay in tow. “I come bearing gifts.”
“He’s not really my type” Roose grimaced.
“Funny” Tywin stated. “He’s your new partner, practically begged to work with you on these medical murders.”
“Yeah well he likes knives almost as much as I do” Roose chuckled.
“Thank you, Director Lannister” Ramsay gave a nod, carrying his things to the open desk.
“Don’t let me down, Snow” Tywin warned and Roose could see that the Director enjoyed intimidating the younger agent.
After Aerys was released from his position as Director of the FBI, Tywin had smoothly moved into the position. His first order of business was to offer Sansa her job back, but after lengthy deliberation, and quite a bit of back and forth, she declined.
She chose instead to take the offer from Chief Stannis Baratheon, allowing her to work patrol in the community and with their homicide detectives to chase down local murderers. She was more than local police could have hoped for, and they treated her well. Though she still occasionally visited the offices, indulging himself and Tywin in too many sweets, she was happy with the local department.
By the time they married, nearly three years ago now, Sansa had already made a place for herself at the police department. Detective Bolton now, she was well-respected by her peers and even taught supplementary courses to other detectives, helping them to get better at their jobs. That of course, led to neighboring departments sending cases across her desk for review, making her something of a crime-celebrity.
Their paths hadn’t had occasion to cross professionally until his current case, a slew of slayings where the man used medical-grade precision to butcher his victims with a series of blades, had its current victim land in her jurisdiction.
“Feds” Roose heard the local cops warning each other as he emerged from his unmarked car. He chuckled, removing his sunglasses as he made his way into the crime scene. It was an abandoned house on the edge of town, the windows broken or boarded up and a thick layer of dust all around.
He followed the sound of Sansa’s voice to the back of the house and a filthy bedroom with a blood-soaked mattress in the corner. She wore her dress shirt, slacks, badge and gun that she had pulled on this morning, but her long, red hair was in a messy ponytail. He had enjoyed watching it grow back, the thick waves stunning as they filled in.
“Who called the feds?” she smirked over at him.
“Honey, I’m home” he glanced to the body. “My guy?”
She nodded, “Yeah, we’ve only been in this room and hall to the door, any other dust hasn’t been disturbed by us.”
“How kind of you” he replied.
“Yeah, don’t say I never did anything for you, Special Agent Bolton.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Detective Bolton.”
“You two start to fuck in my crime scene and I will throw up” the voice of Sansa’s partner, Bronn Blackwater broke in as he chuckled.
“Bronn,” Roose greeted the man, shaking his hand. “You being good to my wife?”
“Bitch runs me ragged” Bronn winked at Sansa.
“Better you than me” Roose’s phone chimes, signalling that crime scene techs had arrived. “Well, the Bureau thanks you for your cooperation, we will take over the investigation from here.”
“Yeah, yeah” Bronn grumbled. “I am going to take your wife to lunch, how do you like that?”
“Bronn” Roose met the man’s gaze with a cool expression. “I know exactly where to slice to ensure you will never enjoy those little badge bunnies again. It wouldn’t even be painful, just devastating.”
“Cute” Sansa kissed Roose’s cheek. “We’re going, I will have local clear the call and send the info to you. Don’t be late for dinner.”
“Never” he promised.
Roose looked to the photo on his desk, it was of him and Sansa on their wedding day, his arms around her from behind, his forehead resting against her temple as she smiled radiantly into the camera. Theirs had been a small, quiet wedding that suited them perfectly. For their honeymoon they had travelled to Ireland, back to his home country to see the sights, enjoy the pub and relax. And of course, lots and lots of sex.
Next week they will have been married for three years and he knew he was going to cave into Sansa’s hints about starting their family. She hadn’t exactly been subtle about them, not that he minded. It was time, he decided, they were both settled in their careers, they had a house on the edge of town and the dogs were grown and would make good protectors.
“Alright then” Ramsay smiled as Tywin took his leave. Roose jolted back to the present, having zoned out while staring at the photo on his desk. “Where do we start?”
“Start?” Roose chuckled. “You’re months behind. Time for you to read everything from every scene. Starting with that wall” he pointed to the large collage of photos, notes and leads on the opposite wall. “Get to work.”
“Happy Anniversary, hubby” Sansa’s whisper greeted him as he woke to the early morning light.
“Happy Anniversary, Mrs. Bolton” he wrapped his arms around her, grateful they were both off work today.
“Three years you’ve been stuck with me” she cuddled to his side, propping herself up on his chest to look at him.
“I don’t feel stuck with you” he chuckled, running a hand through her hair, trying to smooth out the rat’s nest that it was from sleeping and their sexy romp before bed last night.
“You might” she reasoned.
“Quite the opposite, I am going to have children with you,” he replied.
“About that” she nibbled her bottom lip.
“What?”
“I was going to tell you later today,” she said. “But now works, I mean since we’re on the subject.”
“Gods you’re already pregnant” he laughed, hauling her close.
“How do you know that?” she laughed. “You and your damned sharp mind!”
“How far?”
“Seven weeks” she kissed him gently.
“Incredible” he smiled. “My wife is incredible.”
“My husband is no slouch either,” she replied, laughing as he rolled her beneath him, moving the sheets and blankets away.
He kissed her deeply, her lips parting on a sigh as her legs wrapped around him. He ground himself against her, feeling her fluids as they leaked from her folds and spread across his shaft.
He loved the way her body responded so readily to his, the way she would cling to him, moan for him. His wife carried his child, there was nothing sexier than that. The man who always felt out of place, weird compared to the rest of the world had found his perfect mate and she carried their child, a being made from both of their blood.
Braced on one elbow, he trailed a hand to her hip, lifting her to the perfect angle and slid inside of her.
“Roose” she sighed, her hands in his greying hair. “Fuck…”
“Mine” he whispered, rocking slowly within her. “All mine.”
“As you are mine,” she said, arching beneath him. “My husband.”
He made love to her slowly, savouring every sigh and every touch, imprinting them all on his memory so that he would always be able to remember their third wedding anniversary where she told him he was going to be a father.
He felt her race toward her peak, her body shaking as her breath caught and then she came around him, legs locking behind his back and holding him within her as she cried out his name. He was powerless to stop his own climax, growling deeply as he poured into her.
“Fuck” he cursed, trying to catch his breath, their bodies still entwined.
“Mmmhm” she sighed, placing kisses along his jaw. “I love you.”
“I love you” he replied, moving beside her but keeping her close. “Both of you.”
“You have to promise me something” she said softly.
“Anything” he told her.
“No knives or leeches until they’re a teenager” she smirked.
“I can’t promise that” he laughed.
“Roose---”
“Fine, fine” he kissed the tip of her nose. “Does 12 count---”
“No” she laughed, pinching his side. “Crazy man.”
“I hope its a girl, with red hair like her mother” he cupped her cheek, smoothing his thumb over her cheekbone.
“Yeah?” she smiled across the pillow at him. “You don’t want a little boy you can teach all about flaying?”
“I could just as easily teach a girl about it” he reasoned.
“I suppose so” Sansa replied. “I love you, Doctor Bolton.”
“I love you, Doctor Bolton” he hand moved to her still-flat stomach. “And I love you, Baby Bolton.”