Seated comfortably next to Sheriff Brienne, and engaged in conversation with the rest of the people in the pub, Deputy Jaime began retelling his favorite story: how he met Brienne four years ago.

That night, saving a damsel in distress was nowhere on Jaime's to-do list. At the top of the list was not losing anything: his wallet, his driver's license (already marked with 2 DUIs), and his temper. He had also planned to make it home in one piece and to avoid blacking out after a long night of barhopping with his pals.

It was a good thing he wasn't expecting to save anyone, because she definitely did not need saving. He had left the last bar around 3 am, beginning his tipsy walk home, when he saw a flash of black streak past him. The black blob was carrying a brown purse and almost rammed straight into Jaime, before barreling past him. Jaime only hesitated for a few seconds, deciding whether or not he should chase after the thief and return the purse to its rightful owner, before he was shoved to the ground. When he looked up, a tall, blonde woman was clutching her purse in one hand and pummeling the thief with the other.

So, he ended up saving the thief instead, somehow wedging himself between the woman's terrifying fury and the poor guy. The lady, who introduced herself curtly as "Brienne," delivered another painful kick to the thief's side before allowing Jaime to call the cops. By the time the thief was finally handcuffed, Brienne had disappeared.

By the next week, Jaime's memory of Brienne was nothing more than a foggy recollection of a tough woman who may or may not have existed, given his predisposition to having drunken hallucinations. Three months later, he moved to Tarth, the nearby town where his twin sister lived. Immediately identifying his alcoholism, his sister intervened and forced him to get a job as the sheriff's deputy. Though it had been months, the minute he saw the muscular and intimidating sheriff, he had recognized her. She was just as tough as she had seemed that first night and her no nonsense attitude pulled Jaime out of his three year long alcohol stupor within months. She taught him how to fire a gun and forced him to stay in shape so that they could run after criminals. After years of working together, their minds began to work in sync and here they were, two best friends taking a break in a pub.

Just as Jaime's story ended, the crowd thoroughly entertained by his skills as a storyteller, Brienne received an alert for a burglary. The duo headed out, Brienne shooting Jaime a glare when he paused to bow to the crowd before racing to the cruiser. With Brienne at the wheel, the cruiser tore through traffic to Mayor Jon Snow's house.

"What kind of stupid burglar would try to rob Mayor Snow's house?" Jaime mused incredulously, while fixing the position of his holster.

Brienne pulled the cruiser to a sudden stop and grabbed a pair of handcuffs as she exited the car. "The kind that knows the house is empty because the Mayor is visiting Ygritte across town. We're only here because the burglars were dumb enough to trip the alarm."

Jaime immediately shut up as they crept to the front door. They always did the sneaking up in dead silence, sans Jaime's snarky remarks. The rest of the procedure was routine: Brienne tiptoed upstairs to check the mayor's safe while Jaime dispatched the burglar on lookout downstairs. By the time Jaime had handcuffed the burglar, he had to maneuver his way around three unconscious bodies to find Brienne. She was already on the phone with the mayor and counting the money in the opened safe to make sure none of the burglars had taken anything. When she walked towards him, however, he noticed that she was limping.

"Are you good?" he asked, concerned.

Brienne merely glared at him grumpily. "Of course. I just tripped over one of the bodies and I think I twisted my ankle. It's no big deal, but we should—"

Jaime cut her off by sweeping her off her feet, literally. He started carrying her down the stairs, ignoring her as she swiped at him furiously. "Don't make me hurt you, deputy."

He rolled his eyes and continued walking. "You're just going to injure yourself more if you try to walk. Then I'll have to be the interim sheriff, and no one wants that."

Brienne pursed her lips and relented, only to lurch forwards when Jaime nearly collided with the wall.

"Oops," he said sheepishly. "I swear that wall wasn't there earlier."

"Please put me down," Brienne responded, rolling her eyes. "It's just a sprained ankle." As soon as Jaime helped her stand, however, she grunted in pain and leaned on him for support. "This is ridiculous," she muttered, before letting loose a string of curse words that made Jaime raise his eyebrow in disbelief.

Earning a dirty look when he tried to carry her again, he resigned himself to acting as a human crutch while Brienne hopped around, handcuffing the remaining burglars to the staircase. When she reached for her last handcuff, however, she lost her balance and toppled into him, knocking him into the ground. Suddenly eye to eye, Jaime and Brienne gazed at each other.

Jaime cleared his throat, conscious that he was centimeters from Brienne's face. The sheriff scrunched her nose. "I would get off of you," she murmured awkwardly, "but I can't put any weight on my right leg."

Something about their proximity and her smell – a mix of berry shampoo and the leather from her holster – gave Jaime the shot of bravery he needed after working with Brienne for so many years. "Then don't," he responded simply, pulling her into a kiss.

When Mayor Snow arrived, his dog, Ghost, pounced into the room with him. Brienne and Jaime broke from their embrace, cheeks flushed. The mayor and his dog both looked at them, cocking their heads to the right.

"That was very unprofessional of you," Brienne reprimanded harshly, crossing her arms and stepping away from her deputy. Jaime dipped his head in embarrassment, but when the mayor left the room, Brienne leaned over and kissed him again. "I like unprofessional."