Hunger Games 1. Prologue

"Katniss, your order is ready."

The woman in her mid-twenties rises from her seat on the hard, wooden bench across from the pick-up counter. Having worked well passed her regular hours at the sporting goods store, her stomach just wouldn't wait the extra 45 minutes that the bus ride home would take.

She was never one to feel at ease in most of the restaurants that were located on her walk to the bus stop. The majority of them gave off a pretentious, affected vibe; their customers sitting under the umbrellas on the sidewalk, or gathered around in the dimly lit dining areas inside, trying much too hard to act aloof and as if they didn't care how they were perceived by the outside world. Their iPads and overpriced shoes said differently.

This place, though, it had a more _homey _quality to it.

The wide, open storefront was brightly lit and welcoming. As soon as she'd walked in, the smell of freshly baked bread hit her. It was almost overwhelming, and made her stomach feel even more hollow. She'd placed her order for what the woman behind the counter told her was their best selling sandwich, along with a turkey melt to take back to the apartment she shared with her younger sister.

"Sorry about the wait," a friendly voice from behind the counter apologizes. "I had to wait for another loaf of sour dough before I could finish your order."

"Oh, it's fine," Katniss answers as she reaches a hand out to take the plain, white paper bag with 'Mellarks' printed on it in bold, blocky letters. She stills instantly as her fingers brush against those already holding the bag out for her. The feeling that could only be described as a low current of electricity traveling up her arm gives her reason to pause.

When she brings her gaze upward, she finds herself looking into quite possibly the bluest eyes she's ever seen. Rendered momentarily speechless, she takes the time to study the man those eyes belong to. She appraises the fair skin, strong jawline, and tousled blond curls before realizing that she's been openly staring at him, mouth agape. Beyond embarrassed, she urges herself to think of something quick.

Her eyes dart to the name badge pinned to the front of his flour-covered shirt.

_'Peeta.' _

The thought of how odd a name it was briefly crosses her mind, followed immediately by the thought that she had little room to talk herself.

"I'm sorry," she starts; grasping at straws. "But... have we, have we met before?"

She knows that she's being ridiculous. She's never seen this man before, but there _is _something about him. Something inherently familiar. Something that tells her that if they had truly met before, she would be more than quick to remember.

When he smiles at her and starts to shake his head, she hopes that he's forgotten about her showcase of social awkwardness just seconds before. She tries not to focus on the dimple in his chin that has appeared with his grin, but fails miserably.

"No, I don't think so." His voice is soft and kind. "You do seem kind of familiar, though."

She knows he is lying; trying to make her feel better. His overwhelming kindness is evident with the tone of his voice and earnest smile on his face. She carefully takes the bag from his hands and offers him a small smile of her own.

'_Maybe in another life', _she thinks to herself. _'Whatever you do, do not say that out loud. Don't need him thinking you're any more of a weirdo than he must already.'_

"Maybe in another life," he offers with a shrug of his shoulders.

She freezes in place, the bag containing her purchase hanging from her hand in mid-air between them.

_'God. Now she's going to think you're some kind of weirdo,' _He mentally berates himself. Peeta prepares himself for her inevitabley exiting the deli without speaking another word to him.

"Maybe," she says instead, and secures the strap of her purse over her shoulder. He watches the long line of her neck as she pulls her braid out from under it, and feels his throat go dry. His eyes follow her hand as she picks up a take-out menu from their stack on the counter. Noting the lack of ring on her finger, he smiles to himself. He wonders when he got old enough to start checking for that atttribute.

It's not until she looks up at him in an expectant manner that he remembers that he, in fact, does not know this woman. He remembers that she is a paying customer, and he has an impression to make.

"Well, I hope to see you back again," He starts, the smile never leaving his face and his eyes never leaving hers. Eye contact usually makes her nervous, but somehow she doesn't mind it so much at the moment. "Have a good night."

"Thanks," her voice comes out softer than she's used to hearing it. "You, too."

He watches as she disappears through the glass double doors and crosses the street in front of the deli. His eyes follows the sway of her hips and the way her braid swings back and forth as she walks. It's not until his brother elbows him in the side that he realizes how he must look; leaning against the counter, staring after a woman he's just met.

When she is finally able to board her bus, she sinks down into the worn seat, and immediately tears into the bag in her hands. She takes a bite and immediately wonders if the sandwich in her hand is, in fact, the best she's ever had in her life, or if her stomach is just that empty. Stealing one last glance at the restaurant she'd exited only moments before as the bus pulls away from the curb, she smiles to herself a little.

An image of the blond haired, blue eyed man behind the counter comes to mind. Her reflection in the bus's window shows the smile on her face grow even wider. She flexes her fingers a little, looking down at them as she recalls the way they'd brushed against his.

_'Yep,' _she thinks. _'Definitely the best sandwich ever.'_

* * *

**Author's Note: **I honestly have no idea where I'm going with this, but it kept rattling around in my head the other day. I figured I would share it here. If there's no real interest, I'll probably keep it to myself as I go along. _  
_

Thanks for reading!

**(Also) **For anyone who read this as soon as I posted it, I went back in and changed a few things. I wasn't happy with the tense that I was using, but other than that, things are pretty much the same as they were. _  
_


	2. Standing a Chance

"You know," Katniss yells over the music as she watches Prim throw back her third shot of the night. "You could at least pretend to go easy over there! I'm still not used to the fact that my _little sister _is old enough to get into bars with me!"

"Your _little sister _has been old enough for the past year, Katniss!" The blonde girl laughs and leans over toplace her chin on the shoulder the dark-haired boy beside her. He looks down at her and is unable to stop the smile that spreads over his face before kissing the top of her head.

"Besides," Prim starts to speak again and places her left hand on the bar in front of her for Katniss to see. The older woman can feel her eyes widen and swallows hard once she spots the small, diamond and sapphire ring adorning her sister's finger. "It's not every day that you get to celebrate something like this!"

"What..." She suddenly finds herself at a loss for words. She knows what's expected of her. She should be the happy, congratulatory, older sister. She should be grabbing Prim's hand and squealing over how beautiful the ring is. She should _not_ be focused on how young they are, and how similar the situation in front of her is to the one she faced herself when she was Prim's age. She grabs the drink in front of her and downs its remnants quickly. "What does this mean?"

"It _means _that Rory proposed!"

She turns her gaze to the boy seated across the table from her and he lowers his eyes slightly. Katniss watches as Prim squeezes his elbow gently and he finally looks back up at her.

"Sorry, Kat." He still looks uncomfortable and pushes his hand back through his hair, slowly letting it come to rest on the back of his neck. He rubs at it nervously and the action makes her heart clench in her chest. He looks just like his older brother. "I was going to ask you for Prim's hand, but... well, you can be more than just a little intimidating."

"He asked Uncle Haymitch instead."

Katniss actually snorts at this piece of information. She glances between the two people in front of her and a small smile eventually graces her features.

"Sure he was sober enough to understand the question?"

Rory's shoulders relax and he grins at her.

"Maybe not at first, but eventually." He pauses to laugh before continuing. "After I told him why I was there, the first thing he said was-"

His words are cut off by Prim's small, sharp elbow pushing its way into his side. Her eyes are wide and she's attempting to shake her head in an imperceptive manner. Her current level of intoxication makes her gestures wildly more exaggerated than she wants, though.

"The first thing he said was_ what_?" She asks.

_'This can't be good,'_ she thinks. For a few brief seconds, she wonders if he's going to answer her at all. Rory isn't dumb, though. He knows that she'll get it out of him eventually. She watches as he chews on his bottom lip a little before responding.

"He asked if I was going to try my luck again. He obviously thought he was talking to-"

"That's Uncle Haymitch for you!" Prim interjects, gesturing for the bartender to bring another round of shots for the table.

Katniss shouldn't be surprised. Rory, while a good guy, has a habit of putting his foot in his mouth whenever possible. Hell, he had barely been able to even string a sentence together around Prim for the first two years that he knew her.

Knowing this doesn't make Katniss feel any better at the moment, however. Instead, the only thing she can focus on is the gnawing feeling of guilt eating away at her gut just as it does whenever her failed engagement is brought up. They all sit there in silence until the waitress shows up with their shots, and she doesn't feel bad as she downs her own, as well as the one placed in front of Rory.

"Does Gale know?"

Prim nods at her and Katniss returns the gesture.

"He should be here any minute, actually."

Almost on cue she watches as the door on the other side of the bar opens and Rory's older brother enters. He sees her immediately and the smile that breaks out over his face is bright and familiar. Her heart clenches tightly in her chest for the second time tonight.

Regardless of their failed relationship, she can't help but feel grateful that they'd managed to salvage their friendship through it all. He's been so amazing over the years, to the point where there are times that she's able to forget about what they've been through together. To the point where she can pretend that they're still the same kids from back in high school; best friends with no emotional baggage between them.

She smiles at Gale, lifting her hand in a wave, and watches as Prim and Rory turn around. Rory lifts the arm that's not around Prim's waist to greet his older brother. She looks between the two men, so much alike that they're both even clad in what she dubbed years ago as the 'Hawthorne Uniform'; faded, worn jeans, boots, and a black t-shirt.

Placing a hand on Prim's forearm, she smiles at her little sister, and is surprised at the sting of tears in her eyes. _Maybe it's the alcohol. _Swallowing once, she slides her arm down to rest atop her hand. She gives the younger girl's fingers a squeeze.

"Congratulations, Little Duck."

Prim is out of her seat and around the table in a flash. She throws herself into Katniss's lap and hugs her tightly. After a moment, she's pulling her older sister out of her seat and dragging her to the dance floor. Katniss catches Gale's eye as they pass by him and he gives her a nod. Prim yanks harder on her arm and she stumbles a little. Breaking out into laughter, she follows and allows herself to be happy for her sister who somehow managed to grow up when she wasn't paying attention.

Across the bar, sitting in a booth along the opposite wall, he's nursing his third beer of the night. Peeta doesn't know why he bothers to actually show up at the time his friends tell him anymore; they're never on time, and always leave him waiting.

He pulls out his cellphone again to check the time.

_'Yup,' _he thinks. _'Late, as usual.'_

He slips the phone back into his pocket and is getting ready to go settle his tab at the bar when he feels the telltale buzz against his leg. He sighs and reaches into his pocket once again, rolling his eyes as soon as he sees Finnick's name on the screen. He opens the text message, already knowing what it's bound to say.

**Running late. Be there in 5.**

He knows that in Finnick-land, five minutes equals fifteen. He heads to the bar to order another beer.

The bartender, obviously overwhelmed with the crowd tonight, signals to him that she'll be right with him. He nods and leans forward onto his elbow, casually observing the room's occupants.

He's never been here before; he's actually much more apt to spend a Saturday night working late, making sure that the Sunday shift at the deli is bound to go smoothly without him. This choice has never been a big hit with his girlfriend, however, and she's leaving tomorrow for a month-long tour of the Greek islands with her family. He couldn't exactly tell Glimmer that he'd rather be baking tonight.

His eyes are drawn to the dance floor by a loud shriek of laughter. Its source is a pretty blonde girl, currently being spun in a circle by a dark-haired woman. The taller woman pulls the other close to her, pressing her back to her chest and rocks carelessly back and forth with her arms over the top of the blonde's.

The fair-haired girl lets out another loud laugh, and he finds himself smiling at their antics. Though the blonde is the one laughing, he is unable to take his eyes off her dance partner. Her face is obscured by a sheet of her dark brown hair, but her exaggerated, theatrical movements have caught his attention. He watches as she sways with the music and can't help but admire the inch or two of bare skin that peeks out from between her low-cut jeans and olive colored tank top.

_'Great. Now I'm that skeevy guy who stares at girls in bars.'_

One glance around the room tells him that he's not the only one staring.

A group of younger, barely legal, guys sitting at the opposite end of the bar are openly gaping at the scene in front of them. Their actions come to a halt mere seconds after he's noticed them, however, and all four boys avert their eyes back to their drinks; suddenly fidgety and nervous looking. One is brave enough to return his gaze back in the direction of whatever made them look away in the first place, and Peeta follows his stare.

A dark-haired, muscular man in a black t-shirt, seated beside a guy that has to be his brother, is shooting a glare toward the boys that could turn fire into ice. _'Boyfriend?' _He thinks. _'Brother, maybe?'_ He quickly decides that it doesn't matter, but is still relieved that the man in question caught that group staring instead of him.

It's not until the end of the song, when she comically dips her partner backward that he realizes that this is the second time this week that he's found himself staring at this woman.

_'Katniss,' _he thinks. He tells himself that it's not odd for him to remember her name out all of the customers they've had in the deli over the past week. It's an odd name. It stands out. It's easy to remember. _ She's _easy to remember.

He tracks her movement from the dance floor, over to the table where the two men in black are still seated. The blonde sinks happily into the booth beside the younger man, and Katniss takes a seat beside the other. While she is sitting beside him, it's obvious from the friendly shove to his shoulder that the man is not her boyfriend. It's also pretty obvious from the way that his eyes never leave her face as she leans over the table to talk to the blonde girl that he probably wants to be.

A pair of tanned, slender arms wrap their way around Peeta's neck. He snaps out of his reverie so quickly that he ends up slamming his beer bottle into his teeth. Cringing from the impact, he turns to see a leggy blonde behind him with a sheepish grin on her face. Judging from the slightly glassy look in her eyes, she's also had a few pre-bar cocktails.

"Sorry, babe."

Her voice is light and airy, confirming his suspicions. Before he can even say a word to her, she's leaning over the bar, legs lifted into the air behind her, summoning the bartender over. When she gets the same 'be right with you' signal as he did before, she huffs and lets her feet hit the floor. Peeta laughs a little at the pout on her face and turns to greet the rest of his friends.

Katniss tries not to stare at her sister and Rory on the dancefloor. She really does. She manages to look at nothing but them, however.

She can feel Gale's eyes on her. She knows he's been watching her pretty much all night. Gauging her actions carefully and readying himself for what he thinks will be an emotional fallout of sorts. She doesn't turn to face him, but finally decides to speak.

"They're just so young."

She hears him shift in his seat; can picture the tense look on his face, dark eyebrows knitted together. He inhales deeply and she realizes that she's gripping the glass in her hand so tightly that her knuckles have turned white.

"So were we."

"Yeah, and we all know how that turned out."

The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. She should apologize, she knows this, but she still can't bring herself to turn and face him.

"Yeah, well they're not us, Katniss." She stiffens when he uses her real name. Gale never calls her by her real name. Bracing herself because she knows whatever is coming next won't be good, she remains silent. "Especially Prim. She's nothing like you."

He's hurt by her comment and she's aware that's the majority of the reason he just said what he did. Hell, she knows that he's still hurt by her actions four years ago as well. She's no idiot. This knowledge doesn't stop the hurt that she feels, though.

His words are true, of course. Prim is sweet, and open, and lovable. She is sullen, and closed off, and barely even likable on her good days. She doesn't need a reminder of it.

Her eyes never leaving the dance floor, she gathers her purse from the back of her chair. As she stands to leave, she says one last thing that she's sure she'll regret later.

"You're right, Prim's nothing like me. Rory's got something on you, too, though. He may actually stand a chance."

She rushes toward the door before the tears that are blurring her vision are able to fall. Pushing her way out onto the sidewalk, she's relieved to see that there's already a cab waiting at the curb. The buses stopped running hours ago and she and Prim had hitched a ride with Rory earlier.

She's just situated herself in the seat when she hears a shrill voice come from the patio outside the bar. As she turns to look out the window, she sees a tall blonde woman teetering toward the edge of the sidewalk in heels that look much too dangerous to actually walk in.

"That _bitch_ took our cab!"

Katniss doesn't have time for this. She tells the driver to please, just go, for the love of god. He nods and she looks back out the window once more. The girl's friends have joined her outside, though they don't seem to be nearly as upset with the stolen cab as she is.

That's when she sees him.

Putting a hand around the blonde's waist to stop her from falling over is the man from the deli. _'Peeta,' _she thinks. Their eyes meet for a split second and she thinks that she sees a spark of recognition in his. With all of the tears in hers, however, it's hard to be sure.

He lifts his hand in an awkward, half-wave gesture, his mouth open as if he's about to yell something. She turns away, though. The name-slinging girl that's made completely of legs is obviously his girlfriend. He was probably just going to agree with her sentiments of Katniss being a bitch for stealing their cab. She's embarrassed enough as it is; she doesn't need to add even more insult to injury.

Peeta watches the cab as it pulls away from the curb. It's not until Finnick lowers his arm for him that he realizes that it was still raised in an attempt to get her attention. He looks over at his friend, who stares back at him with an eyebrow raised.

"That bitch," Glimmer mutters from his left. Truthfully, he had almost forgotten that she was even there.

Shooting Finnick a look that says '_later_,' he watches as his friend pulls his phone from his pocket and calls for another cab.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much for the reviews and alerts on this story! Looks like I'll be continuing on, after all. :) For those that have mentioned it, I haven't forgotten about _Maybe It's Just Me_ at all, and I'm still working on it as well.

Thanks again!


	3. There's No Need to Apologize

She peers cautiously through the glass store front, taking note of the staff on duty. Checking her cell, she realizes that she's been standing outside like a weirdo on the sidewalk in front of Mellark's for almost five minutes now. She's due at work in twenty. As positive as she's ever going to be that he's not working, she pushes through the door.

She physically cringes as the bells above her head ring out, signaling her entrance to everyone inside. When she looks at the counter, though, her shoulders instantly relax. Peeta is nowhere in sight.

Katniss places her order and takes a seat on the bench provided for take-out customers. It's been five days since she made her uncharacteristically dramatic exit from the bar. She still hasn't spoken to Gale, and has no plans to do so in the immediate future.

She's also been avoiding the deli she currently sits in; afraid of being recognized as the cab thief that she is. Of course, she knew that it was only a (short) matter of time before her craving for another of their sandwiches hit her. Prim had agreed, this place has the best sandwiches either of them has ever tasted.

Her name is called and she looks down at the phone in her hands. She still has ten minutes to make it to work.

"There you go," a deep voice greets her. "Wait... Katniss, why does that name sound familiar?"

_'Oh, for the love of...,' _She looks up at the man that still has the bag carrying her order held firmly in his grip. Even if he's not her type, she has to admit, he is insanely attractive. Bronze colored hair that falls into his green eyes, tanned skin, muscular build. Maybe it's a requirement that you have to reach a certain level of physical appeal in order to work here.

Offering him a small, tight smile, she shakes her head.

"Sorry, no idea."

Her words are clipped and she reaches out to grab her purchase in an agitated manner, but it goes unnoticed by the man whose name tag reads 'Finn'. He adjusts his hand so that his fingers lightly brush hers and sends her a smile that she's sure would make most women drop to their knees. She can't help but compare the position she's in now with the one involving Peeta from a little over a week ago. This Finn fellow's touch doesn't have nearly the same effect as his did.

She pulls her hand away harshly, gripping the bag so that it crinkles around her fingertips.

"Katniss... That's a beautiful name. Is it foreign?"

She resists the urge to roll her eyes at the man.

"If you consider a plant to be foreign, then yes."

She hopes that her rudeness will deter his want to try and make any more conversation.

"You're sure we've never met?"

"Positive," she responds, all traces of her smile from earlier gone.

_'Stick to one word answers,'_ she thinks. _'Maybe he'll get the point.'_

He leans over the counter a little, causing the sleeve of his t-shirt to strain against the muscles of his arm. Only human, she does find herself momentarily distracted, but forces her eyes upward once again. The cocky grin on his face causes her to give in and actually roll her eyes this time. To her surprise, he actually lets out a laugh.

"You know, you're probably right," he says with a wink that makes her back up a step. "I'd never be able to forget a face like yours."

She actually stops for a moment, hardly able to believe the words coming from this guy's mouth. Finally, she lets out an exhale that's a mix of laughter and disbelief. He quirks an eyebrow at her, his smile growing even wider.

"_Right_," she says as she takes another step back. She's halfway to the exit when she hears his voice ring out behind her.

"Have a great day! Don't be a stranger!"

Peeta pushes through the door from the kitchen to see Finnick practically dangling over the pick-up counter. His head is straining in the direction of the door and he moves to stand next to his friend, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever has caught the man's eye.

"I think I'm in love," Finnick says in a dreamy tone that's obviously put-on and well practiced. Peeta laughs and slaps him on the back; hard enough that he lets out an 'oof' and is holding his ribcage dramatically when he lowers his feet back to the ground.

"You're in love with a new girl each week, man."

"Ah," Finnick starts, still holding his torso with one hand and doubled over in faux pain. He lifts the index finger of his free hand and points in the direction of the door. "But you see, this one is different, I can feel it!"

"Oh? And why is that?" Peeta sidesteps his friend and reaches for the ticket that Finnick had just stabbed on the skewer with all of the other completed orders of the day.

"She wasn't intimidated by the Odair charm," he says with a smirk. He turns, expecting Peeta to come back with a smart ass comment, but is disappointed. Instead, he finds his best friend clutching the white take-out ticket in his hand tightly, eyes glued to the paper. He takes a step forward and waves his hand in front of the blond man's face. "Uhm... Hello? Peeta?"

His blue eyes dart up to meet Finnick's, and he presses the ticket into his friend's hand.

"Was this her?"

Finnick stares at the item he's just been handed and nods slowly, wondering where exactly Peeta is going with this. A slow smile takes over his face, and it leaves Finnick feeling even more confused.

"She's the same woman," he offers without further explanation. When he takes in the puzzled look on Finnick's face, he realizes that, of course, his friend has no idea what he's talking about. He's been the only one obsessing over her since last week. He sighs, taking the ticket from his friend's hand and placing it back on top of the pile. "The one that I told you about a few days ago... The woman that 'stole our cab' at the bar the other night."

Recognition finally dawns on Finnick's face and he nods his approval.

"Dude, she's hot. You should go for it."

Peeta laughs, "Thought you were in love?"

"Well, you know there are many fish in sea, my friend. I'm sure that another will come along and catch my eye. Anyway, you saw her first."

Peeta shifts from foot to foot and nervously runs a hand through his hair. Hell, he hasn't even told the man standing in front of him that he's been by the sporting good store she works at twice since Saturday night. He's been desperate to not only see her again, but apologize for his girlfriend's drunken name-calling. He's almost managed to convince himself that it's not creepy that he remembers the name of the store on the work shirt she had worn that night in the deli. He'd missed her on both occasions, of course, but has plans for stopping by again after his shift today.

_'Would it be weird if I asked whether or not she was wearing a work shirt?'_

This is his best friend, and he has no reason to lie to him, but he can't stop himself from feeling uncomfortable with his growing attraction to the woman they're talking about. What he has with Glimmer may not be love, but he still feels guilty acting as if she doesn't exist. It makes him feel disloyal, and Peeta Mellark is anything but.

"Let's not forget that I'm the one with the girlfriend, though."

"Glimmer? Pffft! She's probably on some sunset cruise right with a heavily-muscled Greek fisherman with some name that she can't even spell, much less pronounce."

His lips straighten into a thin line and he nods his head several times before he starts to laugh a little. He shoves Finnick's shoulder.

"Thanks, man. Now I feel so much better."

She manages to slide in through the front door of Seneca Sporting Goods with almost a full minute to spare. By the time that she throws her purse into her locker in the back and removes her sandwich from its bag and shoves it into the fridge, she manages to clock in precisely on time.

The owner, Mr. Crane, waves to her from behind his newspaper and she returns the gesture. He's only five or six years older than her, but exhibits a very authoritative presence. Truthfully, he's always made her a little nervous. She's sure that it's nothing, but something about the way that she sometimes catches him staring at her while she runs the register makes her squirm. He's never been anything but nice and respectful, though; stating several times that he admires her spark and determined personality.

Maybe it's the beard that throws her off.

She still has the bag from Mellark's in her hand as she takes her place behind the sales counter, and she places it in front of the girl who's just getting ready to leave for the day. Her co-worker pushes her long, dark hair from her face, running her hands behind her ears in a manner that would come off as nervous if you didn't know her. Her dark green eyes find Katniss's and she shoots her a quizzical look.

"For you," Katniss slides it toward her. "As a 'thank you' for covering my shift Sunday morning."

"Oh no, Katniss, it's fine! I need the extra hours anyway," the girl tries to refuse the bag.

"Annie, you know that I'm not going to let you leave without it. Besides," she continues as she presses the bag into her friend's hand. "This place has the _best_ sandwiches. Trust me."

"Fine," Annie relents, taking the bag and giving her co-worker a smile. "But next time, remember that there's no thanks needed."

"Seriously," a snarky voice comes from behind them, and Katniss turns around. "I mean, I'm the one who actually has to put up with you during your shift today. Where's my sandwich?"

She rolls her eyes and throws her hand up in a dismissive wave.

"Whatever, Jo. I didn't even know you were working today."

"Minor details," Johanna replies, cocking her head to one side.

She lets out a short laugh as she leans underneath the counter to grab the purse that Annie's about to leave behind. Poor girl is too scatter-brained for her own good sometimes. After a quiet 'thanks', Annie leaves and the two women behind the counter are alone in the store front. Katniss watches from the corner of her eyes as Johanna leans forward on an elbow and turns to face her.

"So, I heard the big news. About Prim, I mean," she laughs. "Have to say, I'm surprised Rory had it in him. Probably took him three tries to get the question out."

"Ugh, don't remind me. Our apartment is already littered with bridal magazines."

Johanna laughs at her response, but doesn't press the issue. She's grateful for the fact because if Jo's already heard about the engagement, then she's more than likely heard about the blow up she had with Gale over the weekend as well. It's times like this that having so few, yet such tightly-knit, friends gets to be exasperating. Instead, they both work for the next several hours in a companionable silence; one of her favorite things about the spiky-haired brunette - lack of constant chatter.

Always one to keep her eye on the clock while at work, when the there's only half an hour left before the store's closing time, Katniss is filled with relief. She hasn't been getting much sleep lately, whether it's due to her fight with Gale or the fact that her little sister is now all grown up, she's not sure. Either way, all she can think about is soaking in her apartment's much too small tub, _maybe_ reading a chapter of her book, and passing out for the night.

"Hey, I'm going to step out back for a cigarette before I start counting down the drawer," Johanna's voice comes from behind her as she's tidying a section destroyed by a group of pre-teen kids earlier. "Oh, and you might want to help out blondie over there. He's been staring at you for like, the last ten minutes."

Katniss spins around to follow Johanna's gaze. Standing only a few yards away, in the archery section, Peeta was doing a terrible job of pretending to have not overheard her co-workers words. She turns back around quickly, eager to try and convince her friend to ask if he needs help instead. Faced with only the sight of Johanna's retreating form, her fingers flicking the lighter on and off as it dangles from her right hand, she exhales deeply.

_'I can do this. He's just a customer. He probably doesn't even remember me,' _she thinks. _'Hell, even if he does, I can pretend that I don't remember him! That's it; aloof! I can be aloof.'_

As she bends down to the pick up the last paintball mask that's lying on the floor in front of her, she can't help but glance over at him. Was it ridiculous for her to think that he's somehow managed to get even more handsome since the other night? The light grey t-shirt that is stretched tightly over his chest showcases muscles that she would have otherwise been unaware of, and she silently thanks it for doing such a superb job.

Realizing that there were no other customers in the store, giving her no excuse from assisting him, she starts to make her way over. Her fingers fidgeting with the end of her braid, she repeats her mantra to _be aloof _silently to herself. Unfortunately, all she can focus on is just how stupid the word sounds when said over and over.

"Hi," she starts and inwardly cringes at the loud volume of her voice. She adjusts it and continues. "Is there anything that I can help you with?"

He turns to face her and they're both momentarily rendered speechless. His eyes seem even bluer to her, and her face even lovelier than he remembered. Both being so caught up in their own embarrassment, neither notice the unconscious step they've taken toward each other.

Finally snapping out of it, he runs one hand through his hair and gestures to the bow he's currently holding in the other. For some reason, he just can't quite start the conversation that he came here to have yet.

"Uhm... Yeah, I was just looking at this bow here."

_'God, I'm such an idiot,' _he mentally berates himself.

Katniss looks from his face to the bow in his hands and nods knowingly. She tries not to laugh, but a small giggle escapes her lips before she starts to speak.

"Sure. Do you... Do you have any experience with archery?"

He rolls his eyes upward, staring at the ceiling for a moment as if lost in thought. He takes a deep breath and Katniss has to force her eyes away from the way his shirt stretches even tighter across his chest. She hopes that her face isn't as red as it feels.

"Not at all," he lets out all at once, making it sound like one, big word. He chuckles softly and she joins him.

"I figured as much."

"What makes you say that? I don't look like a rugged, outdoorsman to you?"

She steps forward and takes the bow from his hands, maintaining eye contact with him as she adjusts his grip on it.

"For starters, you're holding it upside down."

Peeta can feel the laughter rumbling in his chest before it escapes his lips. He places the bow back on its rack and turns to face the woman in front of him. A small smile is playing on her mouth and it does things to his stomach that he's not sure he's ever felt before. Placing his hands in front of him, palms out, he concedes to her words.

"Alright, you caught me."

She smiles at him, and asks if there's anything that she can _actually _help him with.

"Uh, yeah. I... I just wanted to apologize," he says, rocking back onto the heel of his shoe. She can tell he's nervous, and it makes her nervous as well. "For three things, actually."

_'Three?' _She thinks, and wonders if the leggy blonde had flung more insults her way than she had originally heard. She then reminds herself, _'Aloof!'_

"For...?"

"First, for Glimmer calling you a bitch the other night," he starts, raising one finger into the air. He's getting ready to continue when Katniss turns her face away from him. He thinks that maybe he's upset her, or _'Oh, god. Maybe she doesn't even remember.' _He's getting ready to explain exactly what he's talking about when he hears a muffled snort coming from the direction of her turned head.

"I'm sorry, but _Glimmer_?" She chokes out the words into between short laughs and puts her hand up. "I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!"

Peeta lets out a laugh of his own as he comes to understand what's going on.

"Yeah... Even I'll admit that it's a pretty awful name. Her mom was a jewelry designer."

Unfortunately, this little nugget of information only sends Katniss back into hysterics. She turns her face away from Peeta again, bending at the waist to try and calm herself down. He watches with a smile on his face, secretly glad that he's not the only one that thinks the story behind his girlfriend's name is absurd. And if he thought Katniss's smile from before had an effect on him, her laughter puts that earlier feeling to shame.

"I'm sorry. I'm better now, promise," she turns to face him again and stands up straight. "She was right, though. Not... Not about me being a bitch, but I, I mean I did_ inadvertently _steal your cab. Sorry about that."

"You don't need to apologize," Peeta says as he stuffs his hands into his pockets. "Like you said, inadvertent. Also, it wasn't even a big deal. The second thing I need to apologize for is my friend hitting on you at the deli earlier."

She rolls her eyes at the memory and listens as he explains to her that he's known Finnick for years. He says that underneath the cocky, playboy act there's a pretty decent human being.

"I mean, the guy's my best friend, but even I have to admit that he can come off as a douche bag."

"Do you always say such sweet things about your friends?" She laughs.

"Only when they deserve it."

"Understandable," she replies as she idly straightens the bows on the rack in front of them. He watches her hands, and the way that her fingertips lightly trail over one's length. He swallows hard and his face turns red when he realizes that she's been staring at him, awaiting an answer to a question he didn't hear, for who knows how long.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I asked what the third thing was." The look of confusion on his face is evident, so she helps him out. "That you came here to apologize for?"

"Oh, that," he says, suddenly much more nervous. He glances around the store quickly, happy to see that what he's looking for is on the opposite side of the building. It'll give him an excuse to spend just a little more time with her. "Let me just start off by saying that I really did come in here to buy something. Well, I mean, there is something that I need to buy. That I know you guys sell here..."

Usually so good with words, this is not going as well as he had planned. Thankfully, she doesn't call him on it. Instead, she nods at him encouragingly, an amused expression on her face.

"Okay, here goes. I feel like I should apologize about being such a creeper for remembering where you work because of your shirt in the deli last week."

She laughs a little at his odd admission.

_'I'm doing that a lot tonight.' _

"You know what, Peeta," she starts, gesturing down to her lime green shirt with neon pink lettering. "Don't worry about it. It's pretty hard to forget a shirt quite as horrendous as this one."

She realizes her mistake of letting his first name slip and hopes that he didn't notice. He does, but let's it slide because he can't stop from smiling at the thought that she had remembered him. At least now they're on a level playing field as far as creeper status goes.

"Anyway," she looks down, her cheeks slightly tinged a soft pink. "What was it that you _really_ came to buy?"

"A few size four soccer balls."

"Size four?" She raises an eyebrow but starts to lead him in the direction of the soccer equipment regardless. "Seems a little..._ small _for someone of your size."

He feigns hurt, placing a hand over his heart, but fills her in quickly.

"I coach my niece's soccer team. She's ten. They have their first game on Saturday."

"That's really nice of you. You know, my friend Thresh's little sister has a game this Saturday, too. She made me promise that I'd come," she grins, thinking of the sweet little girl that's nothing but a joy to be around. She actually reminds Katniss a lot of Prim when she was younger. "She's always going on and on about how hot her coach, Peter, is..."

She looks up to see a smile slowly stretching across Peeta's face and he chuckles at the spark of recognition in her eyes.

"_You're_ Peter."

"Well, no. Obviously, I'm not Peter, but if you're talking about Rue, then yeah... I'm her coach."

"You should know that she absolutely adores you."

"Yeah, well, must be because I'm so hot."

He puffs out his chest a little, making her roll her eyes at him. She helps him gather his purchases to carry to the counter, but not before she playfully shoves his shoulder. As they're walking to the register, she can't help but wonder exactly what the hell has gotten into her. If she didn't know any better, or was an outside observer, she'd say that she was actually flirting. But no, Katniss Everdeen does not flirt.

_'What do you call it then?' _The voice in her head asks, causing her inner turmoil surrounding the situation to continue.

She rings up his items and hands the large bag to him over the counter top. After taking it, he sets it on the floor and hesitates for just a second before thrusting his hand out to her. She hesitantly places her palm in his and he speaks.

"Let's start over and do this the right way. I'm Peeta Mellark," he starts to shake her hand, and she can't help but smile at his dorkiness. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm Katniss Everdeen, and it's to meet you, too, Peeta. Have a good night."

He drops her hand and both parties immediately regret the loss of contact, but say nothing. She can't take her eyes off him as he gets closer and closer to the door. When he suddenly turns back to face her, she averts her gaze downward and starts straightening items on counter that are already as straight as they're going to get.

"I'll see you Saturday, Katniss!"

She looks up at him and the smile that he offers her is probably one of the most breathtaking things she's ever seen. Something inside of her chest tightens and she closes her hand like a vice grip around the novelty golf tee she's holding.

She smiles back at him, sure that her attempt is nowhere near as beautiful as his.

He would have to disagree.

"I'll see you on Saturday."

She waits until the door closes behind him before opening her hand; a perfect imprint of the tee in her palm. She's just let out a long exhale when an overly exaggerated, singsong voice comes from somewhere to her left.

"I'll see you Saturday!"

Her shoulders drop and she leans forward, resting her hands on the counter. Rolling her eyes, even though the woman can't see her, she lets out an annoyed grunt.

"_Shut up, Johanna!_"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much for all of the reviews and alerts! They're all very appreciated. :) I have a pretty clear view on the way that I want this story to go now, so look for semi-regular updates!


	4. Reintroduction to Dating

_'This is so stupid,' _Katniss thinks to herself. _'Stupid, stupid, stupid.'_

After seeing Peeta again last night at work, she hasn't been able to think of much else. The cooking show that Prim's currently watching in the living room serves as her latest reminder of the man who works in the deli. Of course, the tall, gorgeous blonde woman hosting said show just makes her think of his ridiculously named girlfriend.

_'Stupid.'_

She shouldn't even be allowing herself to think this way of him. She has a boyfriend. Well, there's a guy that she's been seeing. Okay, so they've been on one date, and it wasn't even a very good one. Still, at the end of the night, when Cato had asked if he could see her again, she had agreed.

She remembers the way he had gone in for a goodnight kiss, lips parted slightly, his heavily muscled arm lifted above his head as he leaned against the door frame. Katniss had cringed a little as he had lowered his face to hers, and turned her cheek at the last minute. The barely concealed look of disappointment on his face had made her feel the slightest bit guilty. She's pretty sure that guilt had been to blame for her agreeing to see him again.

And now she feels guilty again, thinking of Peeta, while she's waiting on Cato to pick her up for their second date tonight. Looking at the clock on the wall above the television, she realizes that he should be here any minute now. Prim eyes her from where she sits, curled up on the opposite end of the couch, bridal magazine in hand.

"You look nice," she offers. Katniss smiles knowingly at her little sister. Prim should think that. After all, what Katniss is wearing came from her closet. "Where's he taking you?"

"One of his friends is having a party."

Prim's nose scrunches up a little, and Katniss laughs at her.

"Really? He's taking you to a party on your second date? Shouldn't you two be, I don't know... getting to know each other better before he thrusts you into a situation with a bunch of people that you don't know?"

"One would think," Katniss replies as there's a knock on the door. She lowers her voice to a conspiratory whisper. "Don't worry, I already have plans to duck out early. Expect a phone call."

They share a smile and Katniss moves to open the door. When she opens it, Cato stands on the other side. She suppresses the urge to laugh when she takes in the way he's leaning in what she's sure is supposed to be a casual manner against the wall opposite her apartment's door.

_'He does that a lot.'_

"Hey," he says, lifting his chin a little in greeting. "You ready to head out?"

_'Straight to the point, I see.'_

"Yeah, just a sec," she replies, turning to grab her purse from the floor just inside the door. She makes a point to catch Prim's eye while still bent at the waist and mimics holding a phone up to her ear. Prim hides her laugh behind her Modern Bride and nods. Katniss turns back to face Cato and straightens up, pretending that she didn't just catch him checking out her ass. "Ready."

Across town, Peeta lowers himself to sit beside Finnick on the edge of the swimming pool. Truthfully, he shouldn't be out this late. He has an early morning shift at the deli, and then the soccer game later, just after lunch. There was never any saying 'no' to Finnick Odair, though. Well, he _had _said no, actually. That hadn't stopped the man from showing up at Peeta's front door, asking why he wasn't ready to leave yet.

He hasn't been to a party at Clove's in a long time, though, and this definitely beats sitting at home, watching re-runs of Iron Chef all night. He lifts his cup to his lips and grimaces as he notices the name that's been written on it in Finnick's messy scrawl. _Gimpy. _He never saw the nickname as being nearly as funny as his friends back in high school did, and punches Finnick in the shoulder when he sees his shoulders shaking in laughter.

"Real funny, Finn."

Finnick doesn't reply, just laughs a little and stands to go get himself a refill.

Peeta sits there, his feet in the water and his drink in his hand. He tells himself that he shouldn't feel so out of place. He knows almost everyone here; even if he hasn't hung out with a lot of them in a while, they're friends of his. He's known most of them for years.

Looking around the backyard, though, he suddenly feels so old.

There's a crowd of people around the keg and, from the sound of things, he wouldn't be surprised if one of them actually attempts a keg stand before the night is up. Someone, probably Clove herself, has cranked up the karaoke machine on the deck. She's always had (misguided) aspirations of one day becoming a singer. A couple is making out in the hot tub, and he laughs a little to himself because the last time he saw anything like that, he was still in high school. The doors to the poolhouse are wide open and he can see where two guys are playing some videogame on the huge, flatscreen television. He couldn't tell you what game it is, though; it seems like years since he's even had time to think about things like that.

Running the deli takes up most of his time, but he wouldn't change that for the world. He's known Clove since they were fifteen, and can't even remember her ever having a job. He tries to imagine what it would be like to have things handed to him the way that they have been to her; the way that they've been handed to most of the people in attendance tonight. While he can't deny that it would undoubtedly make things easier, the idea leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

Granted, his father did hand the restaurant over to him after he decided to retire, but it wasn't as if Peeta hadn't been working there since he was fourteen. And he could certainly hire someone else to manage it, but that idea doesn't sit well with him, either.

His thoughts are interrupted by a pair of feet being inserted into the pool beside his. One of them kicks out a little, splashing his leg and getting the edge of the pants he's rolled up to his knees wet.

"Fancy seeing you here, Mr. Mellark," a sweet voice says from his right.

"Hey, Delly." He turns to smile at one of his oldest friends. He peers over her shoulder, as if looking for someone. "Thom with you tonight?"

"Yeah," she waves a hand and her wedding ring catches one of the lights that surround the yard. "He's inside getting drinks."

"I thought he hated Clove?"

Delly laughs, "Oh, he does. Free booze, though. This is our first night out since we had Molly. After four months of nothing but diapers and bottles, he would have gone with me to get matching Edward Cullen tattoos, if I'd asked him."

Delly continues to chatter on, but Peeta stops paying attention as he sees Katniss step through the backdoor out onto the patio. She wears a light blue sundress, its thin spaghetti straps leaving her shoulders and arms bare. The hemline floats around the middle of the thighs. Her hair is down, falling in soft waves, skimming the middle of her back.

He's suddenly having a terribly hard time remembering how to breathe.

"She's really pretty, Peeta." Delly's soft, teasing voice causes him to pull his eyes away from the dark-haired woman across the lawn.

He looks over at his friend and knows that playing the clueless card won't work with her. He is a terrible liar and Delly knows him far too well anyway. Instead, he gives her a small shrug and looks back toward the patio. He smiles a little because he just can't help himself.

"Yeah, she is."

Katniss has only been at this party for a total of, maybe, ten minutes and already, she's more than ready to leave. Since they walked through the door, Cato has already had two shots, failed to introduce her to a single person, and ditched her. Well, he'd actually told her to 'hang tight' for a second and then had disappeared into another room.

With no intention of 'hanging tight' for any amount of time in a room filled to the brim with people that she doesn't know, she finds her way outside. It's better out there. She can breathe.

Looking around the huge backyard, she feels incredibly out of place. She clutches the drink that Cato did manage to deliver to her before his disappearance tightly, wrapping her free hand around her waist. The whole scene seems a little ridiculous to her. When she thinks 'party', she pictures her few, close friends, hanging around one of their apartments (not _mansions_), drinking a few beers (not having multiple kegs and a create your own cocktail bar), and talking (not making out in a hot tub).

_'Ugh,' _she thinks as she steps away from the hot tub that she hadn't really noticed she was so close to. _'Are they really doing that here? What are they, sixteen?'_

She takes another step back without looking and loses her balance as her foot finds someone else's shoe to trip over. She turns, an apology already on her lips.

"I'm so sorr- Heeeey."

The last word is dragged out and sounds funny coming from her mouth. She can't focus on that, though. Peeta Mellark is standing in front of her and suddenly she can't think of anything else.

"Hey," he replies. They stand there in silence for a moment before Katniss blushes and looks down at her feet. He can't help but think just how cute she looks embarrassed, but tries to recover quickly when her grey eyes dart back up to meet his. "I, uh... I didn't know that you knew Clove..."

Confusion is clear on her face.

_'Embarrassed... confused... Yup, cute no matter what,' _he thinks absentmindedly.

"Umm... I don't. Should I?"

Peeta laughs lightly. He doubts very seriously everyone at this party knows exactly who Clove is.

"Maybe. It's her house."

Katniss nods a little and cranes her neck to look at the huge 'house' looming over them.

"Nice house," she says in a low voice.

Peeta lowers his own to a conspiratorial tone and leans in close to her ear.

"Don't tell anyone, but I'm pretty sure that her parents paid for it."

She laughs and the movement causes his lips to brush her cheek. This, combined with the sound of her laughter makes his stomach tighten to the point of almost being uncomfortable. They both straighten instantly and she can feel her skin burning a little where his lips touched it. Her insides are in a knot.

_'Calm down,' _she tells herself. _'You're acting like an idiot.'_

Peeta unconsciously wets his lips and can almost swear that he tastes pears.

_'Calm down,' _he tells himself. _'You're being ridiculous.'_

Suddenly, the patio's flood lights turn off and the area becomes illuminated by hundreds of twinkling, overhead lights. Katniss recovers and laughs a little. He can't help but admire the way that the planes of her face shine in the dim lighting.

"You know," she starts, leaning forward to mimic his posture from before. He doesn't even bother to suppress the shudder that runs through him as her lips brush against the shell of his ear. "I think you may be right. At least her parents have good taste, though."

A pair of arms wind their way around her waist at this moment, throwing her off balance. Her breath is pushed out of her lungs as the grip tightens. She watches as Peeta's eyes grow harder than she's seen them before. He pushes his shoulders back and stands up just a little bit straighter.

Cato ignores the glare he's receiving from Peeta and pulls her in tight to his body. Her back is uncomfortably close to his front.

"Hey, Babe."

_'Babe?' _Katniss and Peeta think simultaneously.

She leans forward, extracting herself from his arms as nonchalantly as possible. He smells like a mixture of Axe body spray, Red Bull, and beer. Quite frankly, it's turning her stomach. She turns to face Cato, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

"Cato." Peeta's voice is cool.

The taller blond nods to him.

"Mellark."

_'Awkward...' _Katniss thinks, and wonders what the story is here. She takes in the set of Peeta's jaw; the way the muscles twitch slightly. His hands are clenched, causing the veins in his forearms to appear more prominent. She also catches the way that his eyes harden when he lingers on how Cato's arm is draped across her shoulders. When he notices her staring, they soften, though. She feels her insides soften as well.

"Come on," Cato says, perfectly content with pretending the other man isn't present. "I want to introduce you to Clove."

Peeta stiffens, but doesn't say a word. It's none of his business, even if he can't understand exactly why should would even want to be here with this guy. Katniss gives him an apologetic smile, and says that she'll catch up with him later. He silently chastises himself for letting hope well up inside of him.

He can't stop himself from watching her as she walks away with Cato. The larger man's hand is placed low on her back and seeing it there leaves a bad taste in his mouth. He leans against the porch's railing until they've stopped only a few feet away from where Clove stands. As soon as the incredibly petite, raven-haired woman turns to face the two of them, he straightens. Peeta can tell, even from a distance, that this will not go well.

"You have a lovely home," Katniss compliments Clove as soon as introductions have been made. She receives nothing more than a tight-lipped expression that she thinks is supposed to be a smile.

Katniss wonders just what she's done to offend the woman in front of her so awfully. She had seemed pleasant enough when she first turned to face them. In fact, her face had practically light up when she'd seen Cato... _'Oh.'_

She looks back and forth between the party hostess and the man who is supposed to be her date. Noticing how their bodies are turned in toward each other and how Cato's stance has somehow managed to put Katniss slightly, alright, almost _completely _behind his broad form. This doesn't manage to deter the icy glare she's still receiving from Clove, however.

She would be upset if she actually liked the guy, but she just doesn't have the energy for that right now. Instead, she just crosses her arms over her chest and rocks backward onto one foot. She looks over her shoulder and catches Peeta's eyes from across the backyard. The fact that she could feel them on her even before seeing them sends a not entirely unwelcome shiver down her spine. She tries to tell herself that his presence here tonight is not the cause for her low level of irritation toward Cato's actions.

He smirks and it leaves her with a funny feeling in her stomach. He leans over the railing and, with a boyish grin that affects her even more than the smirk, starts to wave her back over. She raises her eyebrows and peeks back at her 'date' and the woman that he's currently lost in conversation with.

_'He probably won't even notice that I'm gone.' _

Turning back to face Peeta, she shrugs and starts to move in his direction. After barely two steps, a hand grabs her arm, just below the elbow. She turns to look at Cato and the sweet smile that he gives her makes her just a little queasy. Clove's face is screwed up into a sour expression that Katniss wants to tell her will surely give her wrinkles.

"Where ya going, babe?"

She suppresses the urge to roll her eyes at the 'term of endearment'. Instead, she just exhales a little louder than normal and answers in a flat tone.

"I'm just going to go find the restroom."

She tries to turn again, but he manages to catch her. He places a kiss, too wet for her liking, to her temple and tells her to hurry back. She doesn't reply, instead wiping the side of her head, and moving away more quickly than before. When she feels his eyes still on her, she turns to confirm that Cato is, in fact, still watching her. She faces forward quickly and notices that Peeta is trying desperately not to laugh at what must be the horrified expression on her face. He jerks his head a little to the side, indicating that he'll meet her inside.

She shouldn't be smiling this much. She shouldn't be, but she can't stop herself.

_'What the hell am I doing?'_

She turns one last time as she reaches the entryway and, sure enough, Cato's eyes are still trained on her. He gives her a wink that doesn't go unnoticed by his petite companion. She faces front quickly, unwilling to deal with the hostess's inhospitable attitude for the moment. Realizing that she has no idea where's she's going, she starts to scan the room for Peeta. There are so many people that's it hard to distinguish the back of one blond man's head from another.

"Looking for someone?"

She turns to see Peeta leaning casually against the wall just inside the door. There's a small smile on his face and she can feel the heat start to rush to her cheeks.

_'How did I miss him?'_

"Just some guy that was trying to drag me away from my date," she starts, then stops and puts her finger up to her chin as if thinking hard about something. "Not that the gesture was unwelcome by _any_ means, now that I think about it."

When she locks eyes with Peeta, they both smile a little. He walks by her and hesitates for half a second before placing his hand on her elbow. He once again has the feeling of being back in high school, too nervous to even touch the woman beside him. She follows him without question and they soon find themselves sitting on the huge front porch swing. It's quieter with everyone either inside or out back.

He hands her a full cup, and she nods graciously while placing it inside the one that she's already emptied. She hadn't even noticed that he had been carrying two of them in one hand until now. It might have had something to do with the way his fingertips had been making the skin of her elbow tingle so much. It had been... distracting.

"So..." he leans onto the cushioned seat and gently starts to rock the swing back and forth. She pulls one leg up underneath her and he tries not to let his gaze linger on her movements. He blinks a few times and isn't quite aware of how long of a pause he's taken, but the look on Katniss's face says that it might have been longer than he intended. He takes a sip of his drink and starts over. "So, you're here with Cato, right?"

It's hard not to notice the way he practically spits the other man's name out.

"Yeah..." She's embarrassed by the fact. There's no hiding it.

"He doesn't seem like your type."

The words are out of his mouth before he can think better of them. He doesn't even really know her, but he understands that making assumptions about this sort of thing is dangerous territory when it comes to anyone. He closes his eyes for a second and has just started to frown when her laughter catches him off guard. He looks over to see her smiling at him, idly playing with the ends of her hair.

"I don't really think that I'm his type, either." She leans back onto the cushioned seat of the swing and stretches a leg out to help him with the rocking motion. Her calf muscles tense and he has to look away. She peers at him over the top of her cup before taking another sip. "What's going on with those two, anyway?"

He wonders if she actually cares, or if she's just trying to make conversation. He prays that it's the latter of the two.

"They dated for a while... Years, actually."

"Huh," Katniss lets out the noise in a way that says she's not angry, just a little annoyed. "So he asked me to come with him in order to make his ex-girlfriend jealous."

It wasn't a question, and Peeta doesn't know what to say anyway, so he just watches her. She nods a little to herself, her mouth pulled to one side, and then looks back over at him.

"Sounds about right. I mean, I don't usually date, so it seems fitting that this situation would be part of my re-introduction." She speaks with her hands, and his eyes follow the lines of her thin wrists.

He wants to say that it's not fitting; that it's bullshit. That she shouldn't have to deal with some guy just using her to make some other woman jealous. Especially when any man should feel lucky to have her on his arm. He wants to say all of these things, but has to bite his tongue.

_'You have a girlfriend,' _he has to tell himself. _'She knows that you have a girlfriend. You can't be that guy. You flirt with her, and she thinks you're a jerk who can't stay focused on one woman. No better than Cato.'_

It briefly crosses his mind that a _good _boyfriend would be worried about how Glimmer would react to the situation, instead of the woman in front of him. He's a terrible boyfriend at the moment.

Instead of sharing what he really wants to say, he settles on telling her another, undeniable, truth.

"Cato's an idiot."

She starts to laugh, but having just taken a sip of her drink, it comes out as more of a snort. She's mortified, and covers her mouth with her hand. He thinks it's the cutest thing he's ever seen. Once she's recovered, she sits her cup down beside the swing.

"I take it you guys are good friends then?" She teases, and wonders what the hell she's doing.

_'He has a girlfriend. He knows that YOU know he has a girlfriend.'_

"Oh yeah," he rolls his eyes at her sarcasm. "We went to the same high school. Never been a fan of the guy..."

"Really?" She raises an eyebrow and continues to give him a hard time. "It doesn't show."

He shrugs and brings his drink up to his lips. Her eyes narrow a little and when he starts to lower his arm, she reaches forward to turn the cup in his hands. A drop of condensation rolls over her thumb and onto his. He laughs when she doesn't think twice of wiping the dampness on the leg of his pants. She offers him a wry smile, and points back to the cup, an eyebrow raised.

"Gimpy?"

He groans a little and silently curses Finnick.

"Damn it, Finnick."

Okay, so maybe he curses him not-so-silently as well.

Realizing that she may have overstepped her boundaries, she quickly tries to backtrack.

"You don't have to explain!" She seems to have lost control of her voice's volume, causing the sentence to come out louder than she meant for it to. She looks away and adjusts it before continuing. "I mean, I understand if you'd rather not share the details..."

He reaches out to place a hand on her knee.

"Katniss, it's fine."

She turns to face him, his palm still open across the bare skin of her leg. Being a grown woman, she is almost ashamed at how instantly her body reacts to his simple touch. The warmth that grows in her stomach is intense and something she hasn't felt in a very long time. When she doesn't answer him, his squeezes her knee gently and she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from letting out a very embarrassing noise.

"It's stupid, really...," he starts. Peeta knows that he should remove his hand and, quite frankly, is surprised that she hasn't told him to. He saw how uncomfortable she was with Cato's touch earlier. He can't bring himself to, though. Her skin is warm and smooth, and he likes the way it feels underneath his fingertips. "I played a lot of sports back in high school."

Katniss wants to laugh and say something to the effect of 'Of course you did', given his naturally athletic build and just the overall vibe of 'popular guy' that he gives off. She could picture him as captain of the football team, prom king, maybe even class president. She had been on the track team her freshman and sophomore years, but all of that, and any trace of popularity she had somehow attained, went away after the summer she lost her parents.

She doesn't say anything, though. Despite the dull pain that hits just as it does every time she thinks of her mom and dad, his hand on her knee has left her tongue-tied. She wonders what would happen if she placed her palm on top of his, but doesn't progress any farther than the thought.

"Senior year, I got hit with a pretty hard tackle. Well, truthfully, I got hit with a tackle executed by a guy built like a freight train. Anyway, it screwed my knee up pretty bad. After more surgeries than I would've liked, I had to walk with a cane for about a year and half. Hence, the nickname. _Gimpy. _Man, the guys thought that they were hilarious."

Something passes over his face that Katniss doesn't quite recognize. She leans forward a little, and tries not to react to the fact that her shifting causes his hand to now rest several inches above her knee.

"Something tells me that you didn't think it was all that funny."

"Yeah, well... I lost my soccer scholarship because of it," he lifts one shoulder in a lopsided shrug. "Made it a little harder to laugh about it. I never told them that, though. I'm sure at _some _of them would've laid off if they'd known. I've never really been good being on the receiving end of sympathy, though."

She remembers how she locked herself in her room for weeks after the funeral, unable to stand another 'I'm so sorry for your loss'.

"I can understand that."

He smiles and reluctantly lifts his hand from her leg. The loss of contact is palpable on both ends.

"What about you? Any humiliating nicknames?" He watches as she stays quiet for a moment. "C'mon... I'm sure there are more than a few cat-related ones that you've heard."

She lets out a short, quiet laugh and faces forward. He studies her profile in the dim, evening light. The freckles that are sparsely scattered across her cheeks have him in a trance of sorts.

"Catnip," she finally says with what he can only interpret as a sad smile on her face. "And my dad called me Kitty."

Peeta doesn't miss the past tense, but chooses not to acknowledge it. Instead, he starts to shake his head. This causes her to look over at him, a quizzical look on her face.

"Those are too cute to be embarrassing. They don't count."

One corner of her mouth lifts up, and she unfolds her leg from underneath her. She places both feet on the porch and leans forward, her elbows on her knees. Looking over at him, she rolls her eyes, not believing what she's about to tell him.

"Alright, alright... When I, God... When I was in the first grade, I wet my pants during recess. This little jerk called me Katpiss for the next two weeks before I punched him in the gut."

A loud laugh escapes Peeta's lips and she finds herself following his lead. Once his laughter subsides, he mimics her stance; leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. He smiles over at her.

"See, that's what I was looking for. Although, that is pretty god awful." He leans toward her a little, and she follows his example. "I promise to never call you Katpiss."

She places her hand over her heart and pretends to be touched by his words. She leans in farther, unable to ignore just how close they are now. The outside of their thighs are flush against each other, and the ends of her hair brush his forearms. They lock eyes and she puts on her most sincere face.

"And I promise never to call you Gimpy."

He's just bumped his shoulder with hers in a playful manner when someone comes bursting through the front door and out onto the porch. They both turn quickly, and that, in combination with the way they've been perched on the edge of the seat, causes the swing to unceremoniously dump them onto the floor below.

"Oh, shit!" Peeta exclaims as he scrambles to help Katniss to her feet.

He's only allowed a few seconds to enjoy the feeling of her hands in his before she removes them to readjust her dress. Being a gentleman, he looks away. Of course, doing so only allows him to see Finnick, standing a few feet away, a smirk on his face, _decidedly_ not being a gentlemen. He steps in between his friend and Katniss, trying to make his movements seem nonchalant and without purpose. Finnick knows him too well, though, and his smirk only gets bigger.

Peeta ignores the man in front of him and turns back to face Katniss.

"Are you okay?" He asks, cursing his clumsiness. Her face is flushed, but otherwise, she seems to be fine.

"Yeah," she laughs. "You?"

"Yeah," he answers, and they stand there for a moment, just staring at each other.

"Oh! Hi, Finnick!" The man behind them exclaims in a mocking tone. "Nice to see you, Finnick! What do you need, Finnick?"

Peeta rolls his eyes to Katniss and she grins. He turns to face his best friend and gives him a look that's much more fierce than the words that come out of his mouth.

"Hi, Finnick. Did you need something?"

The bronze-haired man steps forward, in what Peeta has actually heard him refer to as 'saunter mode'. He smiles at Peeta, and then side-steps him to give Katniss a little wave. Peeta sees her reciprocate the gesture from the corner of his eye. Finnick then turns to Peeta.

"So glad that you asked. I was looking for you earlier. You didn't answer your phone, so I checked to see if you'd gone to the car. You left your phone on the dash." He hands Peeta his cellphone, and lets his finger press the button on the side, illuminating the screen so that his friend can see the list of calls that he's missed.

Peeta's shoulders drop. Glimmer has called thirteen times in the past half hour. Finnick shoots him an apologetic look, and turns to Katniss. He smiles the same smile that Peeta has seen him beam in the direction of literally hundreds of girls, but Katniss doesn't return it.

"So, we meet again."

"So we do," she replies in a flat tone that makes Peeta chuckle. "You'll have to excuse me for falling off the swing like that. I was obviously overwhelmed by your presence."

At this, Peeta is unable to hold back his laughter. He regrettably informs Katniss that he has to return a call.

"Don't worry about Finn. He's not nearly as bad as he seems," he says, pausing when the other man elbows him in the side. "Especially now that you've knocked him down a peg, or two."

After a few moments, Katniss has to admit that when he's not trying his best to hit on her, Finnick is actually a pretty enjoyable person to be around. He laughs when she tells him who she's here with, but she's not offended in the least. This doesn't stop her from glancing over to the far side of the porch where Peeta currently stands, cellphone pressed to his ear, every few seconds, however. If Finnick notices, which she's sure that he does, he doesn't say a word.

Peeta's back is to her, and she notes the way that his muscles are tensed. His voice is low, so even if she wanted to hear him (which she _doesn't_, she absolutely, positively _doesn't_), she wouldn't be able to. She can tell that he's upset, though. His pacing grows quicker and when he finally does stop, he grips the railing so hard that she can see how his knuckles turn white from where she's standing.

Finnick lets out a sigh from where he stands and she looks over at him. He's watching Peeta as well, a disappointed look on his face. She gestures to the blond man and speaks.

"Trouble in paradise?"

Finnick scoffs and meets her eyes for a second before looking back to his friend.

"If that's paradise, I think I'd rather stay single forever."

She suddenly feels uncomfortable again. This is a situation that she shouldn't have let herself get into in the first place. She shifts from foot to foot and excuses herself for a moment. Pulling her cellphone from her bag, she dials the number of a cab company and arranges for one to pick her up just down the block. When she's done, she walks back over to where Finnick stands and extends her hand to him. He takes it with an eyebrow raised.

"It was nice actually meeting you," she says, and he offers a smile that's much more genuine than any he threw her way at the deli the day before. She wants to tell him that this one is much more attractive than the other, but doesn't want to risk egging him on.

"You're leaving?" He asks, throwing a quick glance in Peeta's direction.

"Yeah... My date kind of sucks. I doubt he'll even miss me. Will you tell Peeta that I said good night?"

Finnick nods, and she smiles at him. She doesn't look in Peeta's direction as the makes her way down the steps and across the front lawn. She's almost at the end of the block before she hears footsteps hitting the sidewalk behind her. Already reaching into her purse for her taser, she lets out a sigh of relief when she hears Peeta's voice.

"Katniss, hey!"

She stops walking and he catches up to her. He's out of breath and the thought that he actually ran to catch her before she could leave makes her stomach knot up.

"Sorry about that back there," his eyes have a hopeful gleam to them. "Trying to leave without saying goodbye?"

"Er... sorry," she starts, feeling instantly foolish for her abrupt exit. "It's just... I should probably get home. Also, I wanted to avoid running into Cato before I left."

"Well, in that case," a mischievious glint appears in his eyes. "I completely understand. I could have given you a lift home, though."

She just smiles at him, and he understands that she's thinking about the irate girlfriend that he was on the phone with just moments before. Her cab pulls up to the curb a few minutes later and she turns as she's getting into the backseat.

"I'll see you at the game tomorrow, Peeta. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Katniss."

Once they're each home, in their beds, it's embarrassing how little sleep either of them gets.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much for the reviews, PMs, alerts, and favorites for this story! Sorry for the lack of updates lately, though! I started a new job last week, and figured that I should probably wait a little while before busting out the old laptop to write fanfic while on the clock! lol


	5. Hard to Get Over

"You came!" A young, dark-skinned girl with skinny, lanky limbs throws her arms around Katniss's waist. The woman laughs and squeezes the tops of Rue's shoulders before bending down to hug her.

"I told you that I would, silly," she says affectionately as she musses the hair on top of the girl's head. She looks up just in time to catch Peeta's eyes on her. A light shade of pink dusts both of their cheeks, and he raises a hand to greet her. She smiles and nods in return. When she looks back down at Rue, she realizes that the girl has seen the entire exchange and now looks at her with an eyebrow raised. In order to ward off any questions, she motions with her hand, telling Rue to turn around. "Let me see what number I need to be cheering for."

She turns, arms extended from her sides. Katniss laughs at her antics and Rue's smile grows even wider.

"Eleven," she eyes the back of the girl's jersey appreciatively. "My favorite number. Perfect. Now go kick some butt!"

Rue giggles and Katniss smiles to herself as she watches her run off to join her teammates, warming up on the field. She is about to turn to go join Rue's older brother, Thresh, on the bleachers when she feels him beside her.

_ "Get a grip, Katniss... You _feel_ him?" _ She thinks to herself, embarrassed at how desperate she sounds; even if it is only in her own mind.

"You know that they don't actually start keeping score until the next age division, right?" There is a smile in his voice that causes a fluttering feeling in her stomach. She takes a second to collect herself before she turns to face him.

"I did not know that."

The hint of flirtation in her words and tone makes a knot form in his gut. He reaches up with one hand to rub at the back of his neck. The way that she's looking at him, a smirk on her lips, one hip dropped, and a thumb hooked through one of the belt loops on her shorts, makes a corner of his mouth twitch upward.

"Yep," he states simply.

"Well," she starts as she begins to walk backwards. "I fail to see why that means she can't kick some butt."

He laughs at her and waits until she reaches her seat before turning his attention back to his team. Rue gives him a pointed look, but he just shakes his head.

Back on the bleachers, Katniss knocks her shoulder against Rue's older brother's. Thresh just smiles at her, offering her a bottle of water from the cooler between his feet. She accepts it and they watch the first half of the game in relative silence. Well, Thresh does anyway. Katniss spends almost equal amounts of times cheering for Rue and paying closer attention than she probably should to the little girl's coach.

At half-time, after a quick huddle with the team, Peeta makes his way over to where she sits. Rue, running full-speed ahead, beats him, however. She hastily grabs the Gatorade that her brother offers her and launches into question after question, all starting with 'did you see when I'. Katniss listens with rapt attention, nodding in all of the right spots.

Peeta watches her, a deeper fondness for the woman that he still doesn't really know anything about growing in his chest. He knows that he shouldn't, but is unable to stop himself from thinking of how Glimmer has ever shown any interest whatsoever in his coaching endeavors. Peeta had brought her along with him to practice once. She had seemed to enjoy the endless compliments all of the girls had bestowed upon her; how shiny her hair was, how pretty she was. When the actual practice started, she had sequestered herself to the shady end of the bleachers, her iPhone in hand. He knows that she has nieces and nephews of her own, but he's only ever heard her mention them in passing, and never with any type of affection.

"So, Coach," Katniss steps closer to him once Thresh has grabbed his little sister's attention. "Your team's looking pretty good out there."

He notes how she's stepped closer, but hasn't made any effort to make eye contact with him. He takes the opportunity to observe the way that she stands, with one hand bridged over her eyes to shade them from the sun, looking out at the now almost empty field. He shoves his hands down into his pockets and lessens the distance between them with another step. Suddenly, it's like he's back in middle school, nervous and tongue-tied around the pretty girl by their lockers. Meanwhile, Katniss looks perfectly at ease; the end of her dark braid blowing in the breeze.

_ 'She has no idea of the effect she can have.'_

He realizes that he hasn't responded to her when she turns her head, effectively meeting his gaze with her own.

_'Oh God,' _She thinks. _'Am I making a fool of myself? Are they playing shitty and I'm just too dumb to realize it?'_

She pushes her hair behind her ear and lets out an uneasy laugh.

"Not that I would know the difference, really. My knowledge of soccer is about as extensive as... Well, it's not."

When he bursts into laughter because he just thinks she's so damned cute, she is surprised at the lack of mortifications she feels. Instead, she simply inhales deeply, trying to fight the smile that's trying to take over her face. She bites the inside of her cheek to stop it, but nothing seems to work.

She brings her hand up to playfully swat at the man currently laughing at her poorly structured sentence. Peeta sees it coming, though, and steps forward, into her swing. He holds her wrist loosely, his eyes filling with mirth. This is the exact moment that they realize just how close they are. Neither of them makes a move to increase the distance between their bodies.

"Now, now," a voice comes from somewhere behind them. "No fighting in front of the children."

Peeta tries not to be mad at his best friend, he really does. He knows that he should probably thank Finnick for stopping him from doing something stupid, actually.

_'Like kissing her,'_ he thinks as he regretfully tears his eyes away from Katniss's.

"Hi, Finnick," he says aloud, his voice more monotone than he means for it to be. He's almost irritated with himself for the way that he sounds, but when he sees Katniss break out into a small grin, the irritation fades quickly.

"Hi, Peeta," Finnick let's out in a singsong voice. "Hi, Katniss."

She turns, her eyes mid-roll already, but greets him with a smile just the same.

"Hi, Finnick," she offers before turning back to face Peeta again. "I'm just going to go rejoin Thresh over there..."

Peeta wants to follow her; forget the game and follow her. Instead, he simply nods and watches her head back to her seat. He already recognizes that he's been nothing but a shit boyfriend since the day Katniss walked into his deli, so he allows his eyes to linger on the sway of her hips as she walks away. Finnick doesn't miss this and sends a cheeky grin Peeta's way.

"Yes, I think that I'm going to mosey on over there myself. See you after the game, Peet," he calls as he hurries after Katniss. He throws a wink over his shoulder for good measure, knowing that it will get a rise out of him.

Katniss lowers herself onto the hard, metal bleachers. When Thresh raises an eyebrow at her, she immediately knows that he's making a silent reference to whatever had just transpired between she and Peeta. Not wanting to talk about it, she settles for playing dumb.

"What?"

Thresh has known her long enough to know that she's a terrible liar, however. He just shakes his head before leaning forward and staring at something over her shoulder. She doesn't even have time to turn before she feels Finnick settling beside her. He's so close that their thighs touch. She slaps his leg away and he just chuckles.

"Finnick," he says, leaning over Katniss's knees to offer his hand to the man sitting on the opposite side of her.

"Thresh," the large man nods, his voice deep and booming.

Finnick leans back in his seat and widens his eyes at the man's rather imposing demeanor. Katniss just gives him a look that says _'Oh, please'_, and allows her gaze to flicker back to where Peeta stands on the sidelines. Getting ready to send his team back out onto the field, he's bent at the waist, leaning down to deliver the roster for the second half. The bottom of his t-shirt is riding up slightly, exposing the lightly tanned skin of his lower back and the band of his navy blue underwear.

Feeling suddenly flushed, she tears her eyes away from the scene, only to notice that pretty much every other female in the stands is also focused on Peeta's posterier. Those that aren't are busy sneaking glances at Finnick beside her. The bronze-haired man does not fail to notice this, and smirks at her before sending a dark-haired woman a few rows away a wink.

Finnick rarely shuts up throughout the rest of the game, leaving Katniss to wonder just why he even came. However, since Rue got to play for the entire first half, she sits most of this one out, leaving Katniss without anyone to cheer for anyway. She listens to Finnick yammer on beside her, and tries not to get caught staring at Peeta.

"So," Finnick starts after what Katniss is sure must have been an agonizing 30 seconds of silence for him. "Any plans tonight?"

Katniss, caught up in another bout of Peeta examining, misses part of the sentence. The confused look on her face leads to a mischevious grin from Finnick who is now obviously aware as to the focal point of her attention.

_'Shoot me now.'_

Finnick doesn't wait for her to ask him to repeat the question, which she is grateful for. An odd feeling of affection for the goofy man seated to her right comes over her and, like last night, she thinks that he's not nearly as bad as she originally thought. So when he asks his question again, she doesn't even think before replying. Normally, even with simple details such as how she plans to spend her Saturday night, she is more gaurded.

"Headed to the Blind Pig for my friend Madge's birthday."

Finnick sits up perfectly straight, his mouth falling open. Katniss sees disbelief in his eyes just before he starts to speak, and feels unexplicably nervous.

"I love the Blind Pig! I can't believe Madge didn't invite me."

"You know Madge?" Katniss asks, eyebrow raised.

"Well, no, but I might want to! Is she cute?"

Katniss laughs, and it comes out loud and clear, but doesn't answer him. He leans over, motioning for Thresh.

"Thresh, man, is this Madge girl cute?" Finnick asks, and Katniss can't quite stop herself from chuckling at his antics. Thresh simply nods his head, his lips pursed in a manly sign of appreciation. Finnick's smile widens, and he turns back to the woman beside him. "Can I come? Please, please, please?"

She knows it's rude to invite someone that Madge doesn't even know to her get together. She knows that it is. However, it's not like it's a private event. It's at a _bar_, for Christ's sake; hardly exclusive. Still, it would be rude.

Taking one look back at the field, her eyes catch Peeta's for a second. The smile that breaks out over his face almost causes her breath to catch in her throat. Finnick tracks her gaze with his eyes and smiles sweetly at her.

"Maybe I'll even bring Peeta."

_ 'Manners be damned.'_

Unfortunately, by the time that Peeta and Finnick make an appearance at the Blind Pig, Katniss is in a mood that she'd rather not have them see. All thanks to the tall, dark, handsome man that's currently got his arms wrapped around the birthday girl.

Gale.

He arrived at the bar not long after Katniss and hasn't spoken a word to her so far. She knows how he works, though, and she knows that he's still hurt and upset about their fight. Hell, she is, too. That doesn't mean that she's going to pull the same shit he's trying to, though.

Gale knows that she's not a jealous person; she's just never really understood the concept. He does know, however, that Madge is one of Katniss's best friends. He also knows that she's aware of the crush Madge has had on him for years. It's common knowledge amongst their friends, really. Gale's never had any interest in the sweet, mild-mannered blonde woman, however.

No, Katniss is not one to get jealous. However, the act of leading on one of her dearest friends; dancing, flirting, touching; is one of the easiest ways to piss her off. She's been silently seething so far, her fingers wrapped around her whiskey sour to stop her hand from clenching into a fist.

She turns her head, almost on instinct, as soon as Peeta walks through the door to the bar. She's never been so happy to see someone she barely knows in her life.

As soon as Peeta crosses the threshhold into the Blind Pig, his eyes find her immediately. It's almost as if she's some kind of magnet, pulling him in.

_'Jesus, Peeta. Even in your head you sound like a sap.'_

He looks back over his shoulder to ensure that Finnick is still following him, and hasn't already been sidetracked by the first pretty girl he sees. Once that's covered, he turns back in Katniss's direction and makes his way over to where she sits. Even though there's a smile on her face, and she sounds perfectly normal when she greets them, he has the feeling that something is off.

They order their drinks and make idle chitchat until they arrive. Peeta's eyebrows raise a little when Katniss orders not only another drink for herself, but a round of shots for the three of them. She catches his surprise and shrugs a little, giving a small sigh.

"Sorry, it's been an... interesting night. Figured I'd take the edge off a little."

"Works for me!" Finnick adds loudly. "I'm always down for taking the edge off!"

Peeta rolls his eyes. Finnick is probably the most carefree, happy-go-lucky guy that he's ever met. It's seriously doubtful that he's ever even been on edge.

"So," Finnick continues after they've all done their shots. "Where's this birthday girl?"

Katniss's eyes flicker over to where Madge is currently pressed up against Gale on the dance floor. Peeta follows her gaze and immediately recognizes the man she's staring at as the same intimidating guy from the other bar.

_'Shit. Not him again.'_

He wants to just ask Katniss outright what the deal is between her and this guy who has at least 3 inches and 25 lbs. on him. He knows that's not an option, though, so he instead runs some possible, though highly unlikely scenarios through his head. Co-worker. Parole Officer. Arch nemesis. Cousin. Oh, god, he hopes the man is her cousin.

Instead of answering Finnick, she orders another round of shots, plus an extra for herself. Peeta knows that whatever's going on, it certainly isn't good.

After the shots have been downed, Katniss stands, motioning for them to follow her. If Finnick wants to meet Madge, then who the hell is Gale to stand in her way of introducing them? She starts to move and immediately sways a little on her feet. Pausing to steady herself, she feels Peeta's hand at her elbow, ready to help her if needed. She glances at him over her shoulder and offers a smile of gratitude. An unexplainable urge to brush his blonde curls from his eyes runs through her, but she manages to suppress it.

When she turns to face forward again, she sees that Gale's eyes are now on her. Even though she knows that he doesn't put it there on purpose, she wishes that the sad, haunted look would disappear from his eyes. She doesn't stumble, but has to slow down for a second or two due to the floor suddenly seemed just a bit off-kilter.

_'Probably should've eaten before coming out,' _she thinks to herself, looking over at Peeta once more. He has moved to her side now, as if he anticipates she'll need his help. Normally, someone assuming anything about what she needs would be enough to tick Katniss off. Somehow, coming from him, in this situation, it seems more sweet than annoying. She smiles up at him, and he returns the expression. At this precise moment, she teeters in his direction and he quickly grasps her forearm. _'Damn it, he's cute.'_

"Katniss, who are your friends?" Madge's voice cuts through her thoughts.

She stares at the woman, a vision of pink, in front of her for a few seconds before she sees Gale's arm snake around the blonde's waist. That's enough to remind her not only why's she's approached them, but also why she's so pissed off.

"Madge, this is Finnick," she says as she gestures to the man currently shooting the woman in front of them his most charming smile. "And this is Peeta."

When she tilts her head to the side, indicating the broad-shouldered blond man beside her, she's surprised by just how close he is. Her cheek brushes against his shoulder and in her slightly tipsy (okay, maybe a bit more than _slightly_ tipsy) state, her eyes close involuntarily as she takes in the smell of freshly baked bread. Earlier he had mentioned being at the deli before they closed, and now she's wondering she didn't notice this heavenly aroma sooner.

Gale's eyes flicker down to where Peeta's hand still rests on her forearm. When he looks up at her, she narrows her eyes slightly. While Finnick and Peeta are greeting Madge, he leans in close, lowering his voice so that only Katniss can hear.

"How much have you had to drink already, Katniss?"

She takes a step back, feeling Peeta's grip on her arm tighten slightly. She understands Gale's concern, despite his nasty tone. They've been friends for years, and suddenly she's here with two men he's never met before while (for lack of a better term) drunk. She's still angry with him, though, and doesn't think he currently has the right to voice his concern. Deciding not to grace his question with a response, she turns to Madge.

"So, birthday girl," she starts, stepping forward to link her elbow with Madge's. She instantly misses the feel of Peeta's hand on her skin, but tries not to dwell on it. "What are you drinkin'?"

After she has effectively removed Madge from Gale's company and downed more than a few additional shots, Katniss excuses herself to go use the restroom. Peeta watches her from their table, moving slowly across the crowded dancefloor, arms down at her sides, but with her palms facing the floor. She seems to be doing okay, though, so he chooses to stay put instead of try to assist her once more. He doesn't sit back in his seat until the bathroom door has fully closed behind her, and immediately turns red once he sees he's been caught.

"She's not usually like this, you know," Madge offers with a smile to ease his embarrassment.

"Oh? What's she usually like?" Finnick asks when he sees that Peeta is tongue-tied.

"Katniss is the best. She's always a lot of fun, but in a more... muted, reserved way, I suppose." Madge lets her eyes roam over to where Gale is standing along the wall that the restrooms are located on. Whatever is about to happen, probably won't be pretty, so she may as well warn the brunette's new friends. "She's not usually one for drama, either. So... whatever you may see tonight, just try to remember that."

This has Peeta's full attention. He follows Madge's gaze to see the tall, brooding man that had been introduced to them as Gale. In the two instances he's seen Katniss out, this man seems to have been the cause of all of her distress.

He doesn't like it. He doesn't like _him_. Judging by the tight, brusque handshake they'd shared earlier, Gale doesn't care too much for Peeta, either.

Peeta sees Katniss reappear from behind the restroom's door and stiffens when Gale takes a step in her direction. Finnick and Madge are too busy with their drunken flirting to notice that he's no longer a part of the conversation. Katniss steps closer to Gale, and he can see both of their lips moving, the conversation seeming to be amicable for the time being.

"What are you doing, Katniss?" Gale's voice is low, but lacks the harsh quality it had taken on earlier. She arches her eyebrow, feeling the effects of the last round of shots more than ever. Choosing not to look him in the eye, she leans against the wall, staring at a spot on his shoulder instead.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, you do," Gale says with a faint smile that's more sad than anything else. "Bringing Blondie and Mr. Self-Assured here with you tonight."

"_Peeta_ and _Finnick_ are just friends, Gale." She can tell that the man in front of her is busy glaring over at the two men in question. She just sighs and tries to quell the infuriating emotions that are rising into her chest. "Madge is a friend, too. A really good one. So, what exactly are _you_ doing."

_'He's going to avoid the question,' _she thinks as he leans back, bending his knee to rest one foot flat against the wall behind him. He stuffs one hand in his pocket, and rubs the back of his neck with the other.

"I thought that I was a friend, too."

"Don't avoid the question."

"Jesus, Katniss, Madge is nice... I... I like her."

In an instant, she's stretching her entire 5'4" frame up to be as 'in his face' as she can. The stupid, cocky grin on his face only makes her anger grow tenfold, and she pushes her index finger hard into his chest.

"Bullshit! That's bullshit, and you know it! You know how she feels about you, Gale. You know that it's not fair to her. So don't you dare hurt her because you're pissed off at me."

The image of Katniss right now is almost too much for Gale to take. He always did think she was incredibly hot when she was angry. That, in combination with how mad he is at the moment causes his next words to tumble from his lips.

"Jesus! Maybe I just want to know what it's like to be with someone who actually wants me!"

She flinches as if she's just been slapped. He tries to reach out for her as she takes a step back, but she just pushes his hands away. As he watches her violently shove her way through the swinging door that leads out onto the bar's patio, he winces a little. She's still unsteady on her feet, but he knows that if he even attempts to go to her, it will only increase her hostility.

Peeta passes him not even a moment later, not even bothering to spare a glance in Gale's direction. Even if he doesn't like the blond man, he can't snuff out the sense of gratitude he feels toward him. _Somebody_ needs to make sure that she's okay.

Katniss already has another drink in her hand by the time Peeta catches up to her. Seated at the end of the establishment's outdoor bar, she rests her forehead against the heel of one hand, and lifts the glass to her lips with the other. When he sits down beside her, she looks at him, instantly ashamed of her behavior; even in the state that she's in. He slowly turns his barstool to where he's facing her.

"Are you okay?"

His voice is just so sweet, and gentle, and caring.

_ 'The complete opposite of Jackass's.'_

She wants to say that she's fine. That she's going to catch a cab home. That she'll see him another time.

Her mouth doesn't cooperate with her mind, however. Katniss's lips have always managed to be loosened by alcohol.

"No, not... Not really."

She stops suddenly, and Peeta gets the feeling that she wants to say more. He nudges her shoulder gently with his hand. She looks back up at, idly playing with the tiny straw in her drink.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No," she says, but is still so irritated with Gale, as well as herself. So irritated that she launches into a long speech about how Gale is being a jackass with no concern for anyone but himself. By the end, she's finished her drink and feels like the room is spinning around her.

To his credit, Peeta sits and listens to every word that comes out of her enebriated mouth. Even the incoherent, mumbled ones. When she pushes her empty glass out of its spot on the counter in front of her and tries to lay her head down, however, he has to jump into action. He positions himself behind her, and threads his arms underneath hers in order to lift her from her seat.

"Nope, nope, nope," he says quickly. "You don't want to go to sleep there."

"But why?"

He's amazed that, even as far gone as she is, her voice doesn't take on that stereotypical whiny, drunk girl quality that's always bugged him. Glimmer's pretty good at it. He shakes the thought of her out of his head, and slips his arms around Katniss's waist, pulling her to her feet. He takes a look back down at the sticky, wet surface her face was only inches from a few seconds ago and shudders.

"Just trust me, okay?"

"Okay..." She trails off for a second before standing up a little straighter, a sudden awareness dawning over her features. "Wait! I can't go home like this! Prim will want to kill me!"

Peeta's not quite sure who Prim is, or why this person would kill Katniss for her current condition. He doesn't even think before he replies.

"I'll make you some coffee at my place to get you sobered up, then we'll get you home."

He could have said Starbucks. He _should_ have said Starbucks.

The cab they call drops Finnick off first. As he's climbing out of the car, he gives Peeta a knowing look. One that says to expect a phonecall from him tomorrow. Afternoon, of course, not morning. Finnick never gets up earlier than he needs to, and he has tomorrow off. Katniss rouses from her half-asleep state to see that he's leaving, and immediately shuffles to the open door. She motions for him to bend down, and he's surprised when she plants a kiss on his cheek.

"Night, Finn," she smiles before settling back against the seat.

Finnick raises a brow and tells them both goodnight.

Peeta thankfully manages to get Katniss to stand and walk (mostly) on her own once they arrive at his apartment building. In the elevator, he tries his best to talk his body out reacting to way that she's leaning fully into his side, head resting just over his heart, her hip brushing against his thigh. When she lets out a little sigh and he feels her breath fanning over his chest, however, he instinctively wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her closer. He'll just have to hope that she doesn't notice.

He helps her through the door, and she immediately deposits herself on the couch. Letting out a low whistle, she surveys the place. It's not much larger than the apartment that she shares with Prim, but the floorplan is much more open. The hardwood floors are a lot nicer than the cheap, beige carpeting in her place and instead of family photos littering the walls, there are some really fantastic pieces of artwork. She slips her shoes from her feet and brings her legs up to her knees. She briefly wonders if she's being rude, but her mind is too hazy to allow her to linger too long on this thought.

"Nice place," she offers, watching Peeta place her purse on the over-stuffed, grey leather chair beside the sofa.

_'Huh.' _ She didn't even realize he was carrying it for her.

"Thanks," he smiles over at her, and she tilts her head to the side, a goofy grin on her face. He stares for what he's sure if just a few seconds too long, and then shakes his head a little from side to side before turning to walk to the kitchen. "My coffee maker's kind of old, so it may take a few minutes. I'm going to go ahead and get it started."

When he comes back just a minute later, Katniss scoots over from her spot in the middle of the couch to make room for him. She pulls her knees closer to her chest when he doesn't look at her, and starts to feel immediately uncomfortable.

_'Oh god, I'm such an idiot. He must think that I'm such a mess...'_

_ 'Don't look at her legs in those tiny shorts. Do NOT look at her legs in those tiny shorts...'_

"I'm so sorry, Peeta. You must really think that I'm a basketcase... I, I mean, this is the second time that you've seen me make a fool of myself in public."

He looks over at her, and smiles, shaking his head. Her braid is dangling over her shoulder, and the strands around her face are loose. He knows that he's being nosey, and that he really has no right to know her history with this Gale guy, but this doesn't stop the question from falling from his lips.

"What exactly is the story with you two?"

Her eyes dart down and her mouth opens slightly, then closes again. He rushes to repair any damage he might have just caused.

"You don't have to tell me, of course. It's none of my business, really."

"No, it's okay," she says, repositioning herself so that her back is against the arm of the sofa and she's facing him.

_'Do not look at her legs in those tiny shor... Damn it.'_

"My little sister, Prim, is marrying his brother. They're both really young, only 22, and that scares me. We don't really see eye to eye on the subject."

_'Well, that doesn't seem so bad,'_ he thinks to himself. Her expression changes, though, to something a little more forlorn, and he waits for her to continue.

"Gale proposed to me when I was 22. He had always been my best friend, and when my parents died... Well, he just helped us _so_ much. He helped _me_ so much. And I loved him, I really did. I guess I just also felt like I... Like I _owed_ it to him, so I said yes." She knows, somewhere in the back of her mind, that there is no way that she would be opening up to the man in front of her right now without the help of all the alchohol swimming in her system. She can't stop now, though. She realizes that her eyes are filled with irrational tears around the same time that she feels Peeta take her hand into his. "Obviously, it didn't work out all that well. We managed to stay friends after it all, but I know that he's never really gotten over it... what I did to him. I guess the engagement just brought all of that stuff back to the surface."

It was a lot of information to take in at one time. On one hand, Peeta couldn't really blame Gale. A situation like that couldn't be an easy one to move on from in the first place, but the fact that it was with Katniss must have only made it harder. On the other hand, it was hardly fair of him to make her reexperience the guilt that he can see in her eyes she never really stopped feeling in the first place.

He squeezes her hand a little, and tells her that Gale's being an ass. He tells her that men are fragile creatures that take decades to get over their bruised and broken egos. She laughs a little, and he's happy to see even a hint of a smile on her face.

"Of course," he starts as he stands from the couch to go get their coffee. "That doesn't mean that he's right. Like I said, it just means he's being an ass."

She watches him as he walks into the kitchen, her chest filling with warmth for the man. She tells herself to shy away from it; that she has no business feeling this way for him when she's just met him, and when he clearly has a girlfriend. As she absent-mindedly pulls a blanket off of the back of couch, snuggling into the fabric that smells so much like him, she just can't seem to find the want to fend off the affection she feels.

When Peeta makes his way back into the living room, two steaming mugs in his hands, he stops short. He turns to place the coffee on top of his bookcase, and then faces the couch once more. Katniss is laying, legs stretched out across the cushions, tucked underneath the throw his Grandma Mellark had made for him years ago. Soft snores are coming from her slightly open mouth and her hands rest, shoved underneath her cheek.

Nope, he really can't blame Gale. While he definitely doesn't agree with the way the other man has managed to throw the woman in front of him into such a state of distress, he can only imagine what it must feel like to miss her the way that Gale must.

He leans down to turn the lamp located on the end table off. Before straightening himself, he pushes a strand of hair from her face.

"Katniss Everdeen, I bet you are one hard woman to get over."

When he gets up in the morning, she's already gone.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much for all of the alerts/favorites/reviews so far! They really do help as far as inspiration to continue goes! This chapter was very hastily edited, so please excuse any mistakes you find. Thanks again. :)


	6. Friends, right?

"So," Johanna starts, dragging out the word as she pins her nametag onto her work shirt. "How was your date Saturday?"

Katniss groans as she shoots the woman a look of irritation. Johanna's grin only widens, successfully managing to annoy her friend even more. The short-haired woman makes a mock pouty face before throwing another barb her friend's way.

"What's wrong? Blondie didn't put out?"

"Jo, please!" She cries, not wanting to relive the humiliation that was Saturday night. It's been four days, and she's still not over it. She knows that there's no way that Johanna will simply let it go, however. She'd much rather get this conversation over with than deal with the woman's teasing for the rest of her shift. "First of all, it wasn't a date."

"Whatever."

"He has a girlfriend, Johanna," Katniss says, her voice stern as she glares at her co-worker. She's only treated to another ridiculous grin.

"Whatever."

"You're terrible. The game was fine. He and his friend came out to Madge's birthday thing later on, though," she pauses, turning away to place her purse in her locker. She also doesn't really want to be facing Johanna for her next words. "But Gale was there, and things got stupid."

The low growl coming from the woman behind her was to be expected. She turns to face Johanna and sees her gripping the top of a chair tightly; her knuckles an angry, splotchy white color.

"I hate that prick. What did he do this time?"

Johanna's reaction doesn't surprise her one bit. One blind date, set up by Katniss herself that had gone horribly wrong, had managed to cement Johanna's poor opinion of the man. She has never offered up details of what exactly had gone wrong on said date, and Katniss has never taken it upon herself to pry for information from either party. She's always been curious, but supposes that it's really none of her business.

She blanches a little at the word 'prick', since she would never use that adjective to describe the man herself. He may be acting like an insecure ass at the moment, but she still somehow feels a protectiveness toward him that she's sure will never really go away. There is too much history between them, both before and after their failed relationship, for her to just toss away all of the feelings she has for him.

Knowing that there's no way that she'll ever change her co-worker's view on Gale, especially given the story she's about to relate to her, she soldiers on. Johanna's only met Madge a handful of times, but Katniss doesn't have to explain the blonde woman's crush on her ex fiance. Anyone who has ever been in the same room with the two of them has been made blatantly aware of it.

It's not until she gets to the part involving her excessive word vomit around Peeta, as well as the tidbit about waking up on his couch the next morning, that she notices the way that Johanna is having to hold back her laughter. She stops speaking, narrowing her eyes at the woman in front of her. When her shoulders finally stop shaking, she gives Katniss the most inncocent look she can muster.

"What?" Katniss asks, no trace of humor in her voice. She's still much too humiliated to even consider finding what happened amusing.

"Nothing. It's just... It's funny, that's all."

"And what exactly makes this whole thing so funny to you?"

Johanna lets out a loud sigh and crosses her arms over her chest. It's a stance that Katniss has grown used to seeing over the years.

"It just is, okay? Big, bad Katniss Everdeen. Miss Emotionally Unavailable, airing her dirty laundry, baring her heart and soul, both of which have only been alluded to having existed in myth, by the way, to Mr. Tall, Blond, and Beautiful."

She lets out a short laugh and turns to grab her food to stuff in the fridge. Katniss huffs in indignation.

"You're a horrible, cruel creature, Johanna Mason."

"I've never claimed to be anything but," Johanna smiles and throws a wink over her shoulder before turning, a Mellark's Deli bag in hand. "Blondie says 'hello', by the way."

A few hours later, and a few blocks away, Peeta is in the process of washing up after his shift. He's changing out of his God awful 'restaurant shoes' when Finnick strides into the kitchen, his index finger raised in triumph.

"Agamemnom!"

Peeta raises a brow, unsure of exactly what his best friend is trying to tell him. Finnick crosses the room in two, giant strides, and slaps his hand across Peeta's back. Still completely clueless, he finally asks the obvious question.

"Other than the fact that you've obviously been watching 'Troy', that should mean something to me because...?"

"Because_ that _is probably the name of the Greek fisherman that Glimmer is most likely have a sordid love affair with as we speak," Finnick answers. His voice has a teasing quality, but his eyes hold something a little more serious. The look passes as soon as it came, though, and is replaced with the comical waggling of his eyebrows. "All the more reason for you to, you know, break up with her and go after that pretty little brunette you're obviously crazy about."

Peeta just rolls his eyes before moving to hang his apron on its hook. He turns to face his friend, and leans back against a countertop. When he runs a hand through his hair, causing his curls to stick out at odd angles, it's obvious that he's totally exasperated.

"You know it's not that simple, Finn."

"I know that it's a lot simpler than you're making it out to be."

Peeta has to resist the urge to roll his eyes again. It probably _does _seem much easier to the man standing in front of him. Over the years, he's watched Finnick break the hearts of what must have been at least a hundred girls. It can't be too difficult of a task when you can't even be bothered to remember over half of their names. He tells his friend this much, and isn't terribly surprised when Finnick just laughs in response.

"I'll have you know, Peeta, that I remember _all _of their names. Well,... most of their names. Okay, but still! I never forget a face!"

He can't help but laugh, regardless of how ridiculous the whole situation is. Lifting his body up, he hoists himself onto the countertop and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"Still, Finn. Glimmer and I have been dating for almost a year now. I can't just end it in a phone call. I'm not that guy. I don't want to be that guy."

Finnick pushes a stack of take-out boxes to the side and settles in on top of a table directly in front of Peeta. His posture mirrors the blond's, and it's moments like this that remind Peeta just why the man sitting in front of him is his best friend. Moments when he drops the bravado, the sly, sarcastic comments, and is the same, mild-mannered, kind Finnick that he met at a YMCA summer camp when they were both eight years old.

"But you do want to end it."

It's not a question, not really. Finnick has never been able to figure out exactly what had ever brought Peeta and Glimmer, two people who couldn't be less alike, together in the first place. He's always had a sneaking suspicion that the answer has to the over-bearing, hard to please matriarch of the Mellark brood, but has never asked. While pretty, he knows that the tall, leggy blonde woman has never really what Peeta's looking for.

Peeta tries for a non-committal shrug, but knows that Finnick will see through it.

"Glimmer's nice."

Finnick's laugh rings out loudly over the room.

"No, she's not, Peeta. She's self-centered, spoiled, rude, judgemental, and not good enough for you. She is hot, though," he pauses, unsure of how to go on. After a second, he decides to just go for it. "She's a lot like your mom, actually. Minus the hot part."

"God, she's not that bad," Peeta lets out a long sigh, and starts to pick at a thread hanging from the bottom of his t-shirt. "Hasn't really been working for a while, though, you're right. I don't really know if it ever worked at all, now that I think about it."

"It didn't," Finnick says with a slight shake of his head. The smile on his lips is small and a bit remorseful. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner. A better friend would've said something."

Even though this is the side of Finnick that few people get to see, the side that he likes the most, the need to lighten the mood is adamant. Peeta hops down from the counter, and flings an apron at his friend, a smile on his face.

"Yeah, man, what's up with that?"

* * *

_'Calm down, Katniss. You've got this. You can handle a simple apology,' _she tells herself as she briskly makes her way toward the deli after her shift. _'A simple "I'm not usually such a drama queen" will do. It'll be ea-.'_

_ 'You got this, Peeta,' _he thinks as he rounds the corner at the end of the block, on his way to the sporting goods store. _'You got thi-'_

Both trains of thought are derailed as the two of them somehow manage to run right into one another. They both stop, dead in their tracks, and are lucky for the lack of foot traffic on this particular sidewalk during this time of day.

Katniss takes in his appearance, and offers him a small smile. He's standing in front of her, absolutely covered in flour as well as what looks and smells like some sort of sticky glaze. His shirt and worn, fraying at the ends jeans make him look even more approachable than usual. His hair is more disheveled than she's seen it before, and even it has patches of flour scattered throughout. It's as if he left work in a such a rush that he hadn't had the time to even spare a glance at his reflection.

Her stomach clenches into one giant knot when he smiles at her.

Peeta looks at her, absolutely unable to stop the smile from widening across his face. The fluorescent green of her shirt clashes with everything that he knows about this woman. While it makes the very bright statement of 'look at me! look at me!', Katniss herself is equally demanding of attention, though in a more muted way. In a way that he is positive she is blissfully unaware of altogether. She has no idea.

"Hi," he finally offers, once he notices her start to fidget with the strap of her bag.

"Hi," she replies before taking a deep breath. She tells herself that she might as well get this over with. In a fast, flat tone that almost verges on timid, she continues. "I'm really sorry about the other night. _Really _sorry. As in, if I could go back in time I would be sure to make it so that you wouldn't have had to bare witness to me behaving like a complete jackass."

Peeta laughs at her rush of words and the sound makes the muscles in Katniss's shoulders loosen a little. The fact that he doesn't seem to be completely repulsed by her display Saturday night, along with the disappearing act she pulled the following morning is a relief.

Ever the observant one, Peeta notes the change in her posture. He feels his own relief at hers, and the nervous butterflies in his stomach calm slightly. He's not sure that they'll ever disappear completely while in her presence, though.

"Well, I should apologize, too." He pauses, enjoying the confused look that's taken up residence on Katniss's face just a little too much. He waits until she's starting to open her mouth in protest before he starts speaking again. "That couch is _not_ comfortable. If someone had left me to sleep on it, I probably would have left as soon as I woke up, too."

She just rolls her eyes at him while her lips break into a grin. Not even trying to fight the blush that's spreading across her face, she inclines her head to the Jittery Joe's across the street.

"Let me buy you a coffee to make up for the one that you wasted on me the other night."

He looks across the street at the small cafe. Even though a cup of their coffee is far more expensive than the one he'd offered her the other night, and he really doesn't feel the need for her to buy him anything, he can't say no. He doesn't want to say no.

"Sure," he smiles over at her and starts to step out into the street from where he stands.

A panicked look crosses her face and suddenly her hand is closing tightly around his elbow. She jerks him back onto the sidewalk with more force than he previously thought her capable of. Katniss looks away from him quickly, but doesn't relinquish the hold she has on his arm as she drags him a few feet away to the pedestrian crossing button. She reaches up to press it and waits, despite the lack of traffic, until the image of the little man illuminates, signaling that it's safe for them to cross the street.

"Sorry," she mutters, still not meeting his eyes, when they reach the other side. "I have this thing about jaywalking. Very dangerous."

He can tell that she's trying for a light, jovial, somewhat ironic tone. She falls just short of her goal, though. When he leans forward in order to look down at her face, however, she just throws an uneasy smile in his direction. He chooses not to question it.

_'Aversion to jaywalking,' _he thinks, adding it to his mental list of things about Katniss Everdeen that he hopes to one day understand.

"You're a lot stronger than you look," he says, trying to lighten the mood. They're almost at the door of the coffee shop now.

"Yeah, well..." Katniss shrugs and lets her words hang in the air between them. Her eyes dart away from his, and she reaches out to open the door. She's starting to wish for a hole to appear in the sidewalk and swallow her up. Luckily, a familiar, friendly voice comes to her rescue.

"Katniss! How are you?"

Peeta looks up to see a tall, lanky man with short, sandy blond hair making his way toward them. His arms are open wide, and within seconds they're wrapped around Katniss, pulling her close. The man even goes as far as lifting her from the ground for a second before putting her down. He places a kiss on her now smiling lips, and Peeta feels an uneasiness growing inside of him.

"I'm great! What about you? It's been too long," Katniss says, seeming incredibly comfortable with the show of affection the man's just bestowed upon her.

"I'm great, we've both been great!" The man smiles down at the woman in front of him, and then his eyes settle on where Peeta stands a few feet away. He smiles at him and extends his hand. "Sorry, man. And who is this, Katniss?"

"Oh, God. I'm sorry," Katniss steps back and places her hand on Peeta's shoulder. He wishes that he could quench the absurd feeling of self-importance he gets when she leaves it there as she continues. "Marvel, this is Peeta. Peeta, this is my friend, Marvel."

"Nice to meet you, " Peeta nods as he shakes Marvel's hand.

"Likewise," he says, then turns to Katniss with an apologetic smile. He gestures to the coffee carrier that he picks up from the counter behind him that holds two cups. "It was good running into you, but I've gotta' get going. Caffeine run, you know, don't want to take too long. We'll see you at Prim's engagement party next weekend, though, right?"

"Right!" She smiles and rocks up onto her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Tell everyone at the shop I said hi."

"Will do," he replies, and turns to Peeta before exiting the store. "It was nice meeting you."

Katniss watches the man go with a slight smile still on her face, and Peeta nudges her with his shoulder. She looks over at him and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. He's so hypnotized by the action that his next words are out of his mouth before he can think twice of them.

"Another jilted lover?"

It takes the look of pain that briefly crosses her features for him to realize what he's said. He reaches out immediately, placing his hand on her forearm, and breathes a short sigh of relief when she doesn't rip it from his grasp.

_'I'm such a fucking tool,'_ he thinks.

"Oh God, I'm sorry. I... I didn't mean it that way," he says, his words coming out quickly.

She believes him. She really does. Normally, callous words are spoken in much harsher tones than what he's used, and Katniss is unsure of whether or not she's ever seen someone turn so red so quickly. So she ignores her initial flight or fight tendencies, and surprises even herself when she starts to laugh.

"It's okay, I guess I can sort of see where you're coming from," she pauses in order to place her order with the barista. After making her selection, she moves to the side and indicates that she'll be paying for whatever Peeta orders as well.

She finds herself slightly bristling at the way the girl behind the counter is openly batting her eyelashes at him. Even covered in remnants of food from the deli, with his hair slightly sweaty and plastered to his forehead, he makes quite the impression. She unconsciously takes a step closer to him, closing her fingers around his elbow. When he smiles down at her, she hands the cashier her credit card without even glancing in the woman's direction.

_ 'Stop it, Katniss. Don't play the part of the jealous girlfriend. You're not allowed.'_

Something tells her that he doesn't really mind, though. Maybe it's the way that he's leaning into her touch. Or the way that he hasn't spared the cashier a second glance. Realizing that she never actually responded to his earlier query, she starts to speak again.

"Marvel's an old friend. He's also as gay as they come," she laughs lightly and tries not to let herself feel a little hopeful when a look akin to relief crosses his face. "His husband, Cinna, is designing Prim's dress for her."

He nods, stepping forward to collect their drinks from the barista. The tall blonde behind the counter bats her eyelashes at him once more, and once more he ignores her completely. Katniss can't help but feel a little better about herself as they walk to find a seat.

As they settle on a table by the window, Peeta watches the way that she instantly folds her legs up underneath each other to sit Indian-style in her chair. Her thin, nimble fingers rip the top off three sugar packets simultaneously and he takes in the way that she bites the inside of her cheek as she stirs their contents into her drink. He doesn't take sugar in his own coffee, but finds it important to know just how she likes hers.

"So, yeah..." She twists the cardboard sleeve around her paper cup. "About the other night..."

She almost wishes that he wouldn't smile at her the way that he is now. It makes it very difficult for her to concentrate on anything that she wants to say. The way that his eyes crinkle at the sides only manages to distract her even more so. He laughs and she becomes acutely aware of just how long she's been sitting there, staring, leaving her sentence hanging, unfinished, in mid-air.

"You must think I'm a real piece of work."

"Hardly," he says, biting back all of the things that he wants to tell her he thinks she is. "We all have those days. And those people that can set us off."

"Still," she rolls her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Still," he mimics her, and she laughs as he even throws in an exaggerated version of her eye roll. "No apology needed. Just know that the next time that I have an emotional episode in a bar that I fully expect a spot on your couch."

Katniss laughs at the mental image of Peeta's tall frame curled up on the small sofa in her apartment.

"Well, if you wait about six months to have that episode, I'll have a guest room that you can use," she says, her eyes suddenly growing wide at the realization. "Oh God, my baby sister is getting married and moving out in six months."

Peeta would laugh, but she honestly looks so distraught and, well, terrified over the thought that he finds himself reaching across the table for her hand instead. He lays his palm over the top of hers, and gives it what he hopes is a reassuring squeeze. She looks up at him and shakes her head a little.

"Sorry, I'm just taking it a little... harder than I thought I would," she says, fully aware that she should take her hand away from his. "Aside from our Uncle Haymitch, lovable drunk that he is, Prim's all I have left."

"Makes sense," Peeta offers. "I wish that I was as close to my brothers as you two seem to be."

"Yeah, well, I doubt your brothers would expect for you to throw them an engagement party with barely a week's notice," she laughs. "I hope that Rory knows what he's getting into. I think that I might have spoiled her just a bit over the years."

As she goes on, talking about her little sister with a light in her eyes that he's seeing for the first time, he listens intently. It's obvious that Primrose Everdeen is, by far, the most important person in this woman's life. And, yes, the things that she says lead to no conclusion other than the fact that Katniss has spent most of her life spoiling her. This leaves Peeta wondering just who's been taking care of her all of these years.

"I'm totally monopolizing the conversation," she says suddenly, her face turning a light shade of pink. "I'm pretty overwhelmed with this whole party, though, and I had to work with Johanna this morning..."

Peeta is mid-sip and snorts a little, trying desperately not to spit his coffee everywhere. Katniss's co-worker had made quite the impression at the deli earlier in the day. Not only had she managed to completely unnerve him by addressing him as 'Blondie', but she'd also somehow managed to throw a thinly veiled threat into the conversation. A very thinly veiled threat. Her exact wording had been 'And just so you know, if you hurt her, I'm very good with a pick-axe. Or any kind of axe, really.' When he still didn't seem to know what she was talking about, she simply rolled her eyes and tapped the company logo on the right side of her work shirt. Muttering something about him being 'just as brainless as Kat', she had left without another word.

"She makes quite the impression," he offers when he sees that she's looking at him with an amused grin on her face.

"You're telling me. The only advice that she had to offer me was to _'make sure the food's not shitty'_.Which only sent me into another tailspin because I'm an _awful_ cook."

"I could help."

Her eyes widen at his words, and she leans forward on her elbows.

"What?"

"I said that I could help. I do have some experience at this sort of thing, you know." He pauses and smirks at her. "I can give you references, if you'd like."

"You'd do that? Peeta, you are a life saver! Seriously, just let me know how much I owe you, and then-"

"I'm not going to charge you anything, Katniss."

"But-," she starts, only to be interrupted again. Peeta's raised palm irks her, but instead of getting mad, she simply reaches out to lower it to the table.

He watches the brief, but pointed look of irritation that she gives him, and notes to never interrupt her in that way again.

"Look at it as a favor from a friend. We're friends, right?"

"Right," she says as she nods her head. "I'm still going to pay you back somehow."

When he smiles at her, she feels her stomach clench into what feels like a very small coil. She's acutely aware that her hand still lies on top of his in the middle of the table. Katniss barely feels the twitch of his fingers before he flips his palm over and entwines them with her own. The heat that radiates up her arm makes her swallow hard. She watches as Peeta duplicates her action, tracking the movements of his adam's apple as it bobs up and down. Her thoughts stray into dangerous territory when she wonders just how the skin of his throat might taste underneath her lips. Luckily, his next words bring her out of her reverie, and she hopes he's not somehow able to read her thoughts.

"I'm sure we'll be able to figure something out."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks for all of the reviews, alerts, etc. that this story has received so far! They all mean so much to me. :) I hope this filler chapter will prove enjoyable to read.


	7. Take This Sinking Ship

They've barely been in the van for five minutes and Katniss's knuckles have already turned white from the death grip she has on the sides of her seat. Peeta's been watching her from the corner of his eye since they started their trip to go set up for her sister's engagement party. Her Uncle Haymitch lives about thirty minutes outside of the city, and has graciously offered up his residence for the celebration.

Of course, according to Katniss, his hermit-like ways probably have more to do with the offering than anything else. Earlier in the week, she had told him about the sour-faced, perpetually drunk man that she had spent the majority of her teen years living with. She had explained that, while harsh and a little rough around the edges, he had opened his home to them after the death of her parents. When Katniss's maternal grandparents had attempted to make a sudden reappearance in their lives, Haymitch had fought tooth and nail to keep the Everdeen girls with him.

"I still hate the old bastard about 75% of the time, though," Katniss had laughed as they'd gone over the menu options one night. Peeta could tell, however, by the warmth in her eyes and voice when she spoke of her uncle that her words weren't entirely true.

Katniss can feel his eyes on her now, and tries her best to loosen her fingers from the seat cushion. She turns her head to stare out the window instead of meeting his gaze, trying her damnedest to will the blush that's worked its way onto her cheeks away. Idly, she wonders if she's had a single encounter with the handsome man to her left that's not left her with a flushed face at one point or another. The answer, simply put, is no.

They've spent a lot of time together over the past week. Well, in Katniss speak, the two separate days that they got together is equal to a lot of time. They both know that neither meeting was absolutely necesary; the menu could have been just as easily decided over the phone, afterall. Yet somehow, they had found reasons to touch base, almost daily over the phone, and twice in person. In an attempt to get over her previous mortification, Katniss had even joked one afternoon, over their take-out meal of Pad Thai, that being back in Peeta's apartment felt a little like returning to the scene of the crime.

It is hard for her to deny the growing attraction that she feels toward him. Peeta silently shares her dilemma.

She's caught up in the memory of just how cute his face looked when she'd informed him that she'd never had Pad Thai before when she's shaken from her thoughts. A bump in the road causes her entire body to tense. She can practically feel the color draining from her face. Peeta's tone is teasing as he reaches over to squeeze her fingers with his own.

"My driving's not _that_ bad, is it?"

For the briefest of moments, when her head whips around to face him, he sees the fear in her eyes. He pulls her hand into his and allows his gaze to flicker between Katniss and the road in front of them. When he runs his thumb along the outside of hers, she allows herself to focus on this movement instead of the way every dip and pothole makes her want to curl into a ball.

"Hey," his voice is quiet and the concern she hears in it is so palpable that her breath almost catches in her throat. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," she laughs a little at herself, and squeezes his hand. "I don't do too well in cars. Although, having your hand to hold onto is a lot better than the seat cushion."

_'My God, Katniss... Could you be any cheesier?'_

Peeta smirks and that now all too familiar feeling of her stomach tightening into a knot reappears.

"I'll add that to my list," he says, looking back at the road.

"List?" Her forehead creases as her eyebrows rise.

_'Shit,' _he thinks as he keeps his eyes firmly directed toward the windshield.

"Uh...," he starts, mentally chastising how inarticulate he sounds. When he sees that she's trying her best to hold back a chuckle, he laughs at himself. Deciding not to inform her that the list he refers to is solely about her, he continues. "Just my ever-growing list of important things, Miss Everdeen."

She raises her eyebrows once more and her mouth forms an 'o' shape. Trying not to let her surprise show, she tilts her head back to the window beside her. She doesn't let go of his hand and, to her, it doesn't seem that he minds.

"So is it just cars? I mean, you ride the bus to work almost every day."

"Bus crash statistics are much less frightening than car crashes."

Her tone is flat and factual. Peeta hasn't quite gotten a good enough grasp on her use of sarcasm to tell whether not or not what's just she's said is meant to be funny. So he just swings their clasped hands between their seats.

"Is that so?"

"Yep," she says, popping the 'p' at the end of the word as she assists Peeta in making their hands swing higher. Something about the casual manner of their conversation makes it easier for her to continue. "I know it's irrational, but since the accident... Since I lost my parents, cars make me nervous... The same goes for jaywalking. A pedestrian stepped out in front of their car, right in the middle of the street. They swerved and collided, head-on, with a tow truck..."

She lets her words taper off and turns to look at Peeta, one brow raised. He merely looks back at her and continues the to and fro movements of their hands. She's glad when she doesn't see pity on his face as he says he's sorry.

"I know that you were wondering about that whole crosswalk thing the other day. Even if you are too much of a gentleman to ask."

He smiles at her and playfully shrugs one shoulder. They sit in silence for a moment, and it's not that it's uncomfortable, or unnerving, but Katniss feels the need to ask.

"So, does that go on the list, too?"

He doesn't look at her when he answers. Instead, he smiles and her heartbeat speeds up when she notices his cheeks flushing slightly. His thumb runs along the outside of hers once more.

"Everything I learn about you goes on the list, Katniss."

_'Jesus Christ, Peeta. Cheesy much?' _He thinks as he tries his best to focus his attention fully on driving.

"I love how you're so unabashedly cheesy," Katniss laughs as she unhooks their hands. As she's leaning forward to turn on the radio, she already misses the feeling of his large, calloused palm against her own. She knows that it's not practical to hold the hand of someone driving a large delivery van, though. She prefers to think of this as the reason it's not right instead of the fact that he has a girlfriend.

Settling on a station, she shifts a little in her seat. Her hand is itching to reach for his again, but she curls her fingers into a fist instead, and plants it firmly in her lap. A comfortable silence falls over the car, so when Peeta lets out a low whistle a few moments later, it startles her.

"Nice house," he murmurs, not taking his eyes off of the huge Tudor Revival style home at the end of the long, winding drive. Both the driveway and the house are surrounded by tall Spruce tress. "You grew up here?"

"Yeah," Katniss smiles at little as she looks up at her old bedroom window. She had absolutely hated this place for the first year that she and Prim had lived here. It was too big, too empty. She had grown so used to sharing a room with her younger sister that having basically an entire wing to herself was overwhelming to say the least. Most nights, she was relieved when Prim would crawl into bed with her and stay, huddled against her, until morning. "Uncle Haymitch is kind of loaded."

Peeta looks over at her with mock surprise on his face.

"_No_."

She rolls her eyes and playfully slaps at his shoulder as he pulls the van around back. After they've parked and exited the vehicle, Peeta can't keep his eyes off of Katniss as she stretches out her muscles gracefully. It's late afternoon, and the way that the sun is shining through the trees casts a shifting shadow across her skin. He's mesmerized by watching the pattern change as it dances across her bare shoulders. The light catches her eyes as she turns to face him and he's wishing, not for the first time, that he was free to give in and just kiss her.

"Sweetheart," a gruff voice comes from the now open backdoor of the kitchen entrance. "You don't call. You don't write. And now I see that you're slumming it with the hired help."

Peeta turns to see a man in his mid-forties striding across the gravel, arms open, ready to pull Katniss into an embrace. His dirty blond hair falls almost to his chin and when he shakes it out of his eyes, he gives the younger man a conspiratorial wink. After their quick hug is over with, Katniss steps back to smile at her uncle, as well as give his shoulder a light, playful shove.

"Actually," Peeta starts, stepping forward to offer his hand to the man. "Today she's slumming it with the guy who offered to help her out for free. Peeta Mellark. Nice to meet you, Mr. Abernathy."

Haymitch steps forward, running a cursory glance over Peeta's form, and takes the hand he's been offered. The younger man can't help but notice the slight tremble that runs through Katniss's uncle's palm. He thinks back to the way that she had referred to him as a 'lovely old drunk', but doesn't let his shock at seeing the truth behind her words show.

"Call me Haymitch."

Katniss steps forward, effectively creating a semi-circle with their three bodies. She starts to pat down the jacket that her uncle wears, and he swats her hands away. When she turns to fully face him, arms crossed over her chest, her back brushes against Peeta's front. He doesn't have time to dwell on it however because her voice is serious when she addresses the older man.

"Where is it?"

Peeta watches as the other man narrows his eyes slightly, but then gives a reluctant sigh. He reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a silver flask. Katniss rips it from his hand immediately, and lifts it over her shoulder for Peeta to take. He wraps his fingers around it, but is unsure where to go from there. She turns her head to face him, momentarily intoxicated by how close he is and just how good he smells.

"Hold on to that for me, please. And, no matter what, don't give it back to him until the end of the night," she says before she rounds back on her uncle. "Remember, you promised Prim."

"And as soon as people start to show up, I'll live up to that promise," he starts to reach over, attempting to retrieve his flask from Peeta's hand. When the younger man takes a step back and slips the object into his back pocket, Haymitch raises an eyebrow. He looks between the two young people in front of him and takes in the small smile that passes between the two of them. He rocks back on the heel of his boot and holds his hands out in front of him. "Fine, fine. I guess I'll have to deal with that tyrannical, crazy woman while sober. You should know that I can't be held responsible for anything that I might say to her."

Katniss pokes a finger into his chest as she moves passed him.

"Effie's here to help, old man. Be nice."

Haymitch turns to face Peeta, watching how the young man's eyes track his niece's movements into the house. He leans forward a little and extends his hand, motioning for him to return his flask. Peeta merely smirks and shakes his head from side to side. Haymitch laughs.

"Smart move, boy. Best to stay on that one's good side."

Almost an hour later, Madge arrives to help Katniss and Effie set everything up for the night. They finally manage to casually, as opposed to 'haphazardly', drape the final string of lights over the plants that surround the pool area. Satisfied with their work at last, Effie has taken a break from supervising and sashayed back into the house. No doubt to find its owner and bend his ear about one thing or another.

"So," Madge starts as she takes hold of one end of the tablecloth that her friend is holding. "What's up with you and Peeta?"

At the mention of his name, Katniss turns her head in the direction of the open french doors. The man in question is just inside, currently chatting with Sae, the woman that her uncle had hired to handle the general running of his home years ago. The older woman is obviously just as charmed by him as she is, and laughs at something the blond man says before swatting at his hand.

Almost as if he can feel her eyes on him, Peeta turns to look toward the patio. He offers her a bright smile, which she returns, and then continues his conversation. Madge clears her throat and Katniss jumps, banging her hip into the edge of the table in the process.

"Shit! Ow, ow, ow!"

Madge watches as Katniss doubles over in pain, both of her hands clutching at the point of her injury. She tries not to laugh at the way that Peeta is at the dark-haired woman's side in a matter of seconds. His head is close to hers and he lays a hand gently between her shoulder blades as he asks if she's okay.

It's impossible to miss the way that he looks at her. In fact, Madge is pretty sure that even Katniss - clueless when it comes to everything romance-related, Katniss - is vaguely aware of the way that he clearly feels about her. Of course, her friend has always been one to surprise her, so maybe she hasn't realized it yet after all.

Once he's been assured that she's just fine, Peeta returns to the kitchen to continue prepping everything for the party. Madge steps forward, straightening the tablecloth. When she looks up, she sees that Katniss's eyes are still glued to his retreating form.

"So... You plan on answering my question?" She gives Katniss a pointed look once she has her attention again. "And, I swear to God, if you say that you're _just friends_..."

"But that's all that we _are_, Madge," she answers, averting her eyes. She places a candle holder in the middle of the table before continuing in a mutter. "I mean, he has a girlfriend. And I... well, I'm just not ready for any of that."

"Okay, I don't even know which of those points I want to address first," Madge blows her bangs out of her eyes before plopping down in the nearest chair. Katniss gives her a look that clearly says 'do we really have to do this now', and she nods, using her index finger to indicate that the brunette should have a seat as well. "Look, as far as the whole you-not-being-ready thing... At the rate you're going, you're never going to be ready. You took this giant leap, that you _knew_ you weren't prepared to take. And, yeah, people got hurt, and it sucked. It still sucks, but you can't punish yourself forever by closing off your heart."

Katniss opens her mouth, already forming a retort, but Madge lifts a finger in that way that she knows her friend hates. It doesn't matter, though. She's sat by and watched the woman in front of her think her past mistakes and choices have left her unworthy of happiness for long enough.

"Second, where is this supposed girlfriend? Because it seems like he's been spending a lot more time with you than anyone would want their boyfriend to."

Katniss rolls her eyes.

"Please. The girlfriend is real, she's just _out of the country_. You know, _island hopping in Greece with mommy and daddy_," Katniss says as she exaggerates the words and flips her hair theatrically over her shoulder.

"Seriously, Katniss. Don't even act like you couldn't do the same thing with Haymitch's money if you felt like it."

"Whatever," she mutters before her eyes flicker back to the doorway. Peeta's nowhere to be seen, so she looks back to where Madge sits across the table from her. "That doesn't change the fact that the girlfriend exists."

She doesn't mention the tense phone conversation she overheard a few weeks ago. Nor does she say anything about the way that Finnick had alluded to the couple's ongoing troubles. And she certainly doesn't bring up the way that he never talks about her, or brings her name up in conversation.

"Well," Madge sighs heavily and thinks to herself that she could really use a drink. "I'm pretty sure, judging by the way that he looks at you like the sun shines out of your ass, that said girlfriend won't be a problem for too much longer..."

"You haven't seen this chick, Madge," Katniss says as she pushes her chair back and stands. "For Christ's sake, her name is _Glimmer_. And it suits her."

The blonde woman follows her friend's lead and scoots her chair away from the table. She knows what Katniss is implying; that she's shiny, and radiant, and beautiful. It doesn't stop her from trying to lighten the mood as they head inside to change for the party, however. She nudges Katniss's side with her elbow and smirks at her.

"So you're telling me that she has really oily skin?"

Guests started trickling in just as the sun began to set, making the glowing lights around the pool a nice backdrop for the celebration. So far, everything has gone off without a hitch. Plenty of space, plenty of (delicious) food, and plenty of people on their best behavior. Haymitch hasn't had a drink all night. Effie's normally demanding personality has been toned down as she actually enjoys the party rather than attempt to control it. Even Gale has managed not to do anything to piss Katniss (or anyone else) off.

Peeta, currently seated at the small bar by himself, watches Katniss from across the yard. She's currently wrapped up in some complicated, fast-paced danced with the man that had been introduced to him as Cinna, Marvel's husband. He can just make out her laugh over the music that's playing, and it's something that he's pretty sure he'll never tire of hearing. The fabric of the deep, plum-colored dress that she's wearing swishes around the legs that he can't stop staring at.

He chuckles to himself when she kicks off her nude pumps and continues to dance barefoot. In fact, he's so caught up in watching her that he doesn't notice that Prim's settled into the chair beside him until she waves her hand, fingers splayed, in front of his face. He jerks back quickly and the younger Everdeen giggles a little at his expense.

That, in itself, Peeta's decides, is a pretty good way to compare the two sisters. While Katniss's laugh is just that, Primrose Everdeen is more of a giggler. The sweet, girly mannerism suits her much better than her older sister. Not to say that Katniss is neither of these things; he's sure that she can be at times... and if she so chooses. Her laugh is much harder to earn, however, giving it a certain depth. A depth that, despite her obvious charm and persona that is impossible not to love, he isn't sure that Prim possesses.

He's sure that his internal monologue concerning what sets Katniss apart from her sister, along with everyone else, could go on for hours. For now, though, he turns his attention to her younger sister, smiling as he swivels his chair to face her. Before he speaks, he notes that Rory is situated across the patio, deep in conversation with his older brother. However, he is still unable to look anywhere but at his fiance.

"He can't take his eyes off of you," Peeta says with a smile.

Prim glances over and a blush makes its way to her cheeks. She casts her eyes downward before replying.

"Kind of like you with my sister, right?"

Apparently, Katniss is not the only Everdeen woman with the ability to render him speechless. He opens and closes his mouth several times before finally settling on a defeated look. Leaning forward on his elbows, he sighs and simply shrugs his shoulders. Prim doesn't respond. Instead, she nods a little as she watches Katniss dance her way between Cinna and Marvel. When she finally turns back to Peeta, her eyes are serious.

"She likes you, too, you know. Katniss doesn't usually like anyone, especially when doing so puts her heart on the line." Prim pauses and takes a deep breath. "Which is what worries me about this situation."

Peeta wants to stop her. He wants to reassure her that he has no intention of hurting her older sister. He wants to tell her that is the last thing that he ever wants to do. The look in her eyes tells him it's best not to interrupt, however. It's a trait she shares with Katniss; they are both undeniably good at letting you know when you need to just shut up and listen.

"I know that you have a girlfriend, Peeta. Oddly enough, that's not really what worries me. It's pretty obvious that you're a good guy. Taking that into account, it's also obvious that whatever it is that you feel for my sister has already surpassed what you feel for Glitter, Dazzle, or whatever her name is."

Peeta lets out a soft chuckle as Prim waves her hand through the air in a dismissive manner.

_'Would such a _good guy _really be laughing at this?' _He asks himself. After a second, he shakes the thought away. The look on Prim's face makes him wonder if she's able to read his mind.

"What worries me is what Katniss might do once you do end things with your girlfriend. Right now, she's free to feel the way that she does about you because you're not available, which means that she's not able to get hurt," Prim says as she starts to stand. The song has ended, and Rory is making his way across the patio. "Just promise me that you won't let her push you away. I love my sister, but she's a real piece of work when it comes things like this."

"Things like what exactly?" Peeta asks, even though he has a pretty good idea.

"Her happiness."

Katniss, spent from having danced the last three songs in a row, bends down to retrieve her heels from the ground. She's looking forward to finally taking a seat when she hears Peeta move to stand behind her. Instead of just knowing he is there as she had at the soccer game, she's become quite used to his loud footsteps and the overall way that it sounds when he walks; the fall of his left foot being slightly heavier than the right depending on the time of day and how long he's been on his feet. She's not sure if this is just as, or even creepier, than 'feeling' his presence.

"You shouldn't put those on just yet," his voice is soft as she straightens herself.

She turns to face him, that stupid, giddy feeling bubbling in her stomach. Trying hard not to let it show, she tilts her head to one side.

"Oh?"

"Well, unless you're going to outright deny me, that is. In that case, feel free to continue what you were doing."

"I don't recall you asking anything..." She smiles as she trails off, wondering, just as she has with every other encounter of theirs, just where this flirty aspect of her personality hides on a regular basis. She laughs as he stoops into a low, overly dramatic bow, extending his hand to her.

"Katniss Everdeen, may I have this dance?"

Her hand is in his before he even finishes the sentence.

_I don't know you, but I want you all the more that. _

The song is a slow one that she remembers from a movie that she and Prim watched once when they were both sick with the flu. Her baby sister had immediately insist that she download the soundtrack. This song played on repeat for days.

She links her hands behind his neck and tries to ignore the way that his fingers, loosely gripping her waist, burn through the fabric of her dress. In fact, she's so focused on their warmth, that she doesn't know when she starts to idly play with the curls at the nape of Peeta's neck. He smiles down at her, though, so she doesn't stop.

_Words fall through me and always fool me, and I can't react. _

"I'm surprised to see so many of your friends here tonight."

"Everyone loves Prim. It hard not to."

_Games that never amount to more than they're meant will play themselves out. _

He wants to tell her that Prim isn't the only one in attendance tonight that makes it hard not to love her. However, he bites his tongue, knowing that his words would only manage to scare her off. Guilt washes over him as he also has to remind himself that he's not yet free to speak his mind when it comes to the matter. He thinks of Glimmer and how she'll be back from her trip tomorrow, as well as the conversation that he's looking forward to and dreading all at the same time.

It's hard to think of anything for too long with Katniss in his arms, though. The feel of her fingers in his hair is fairly distracting as well.

_Take this sinking boat and point it home. We've still got time._

"You know," Katniss says, interrupting their brief silence. "I don't think that I've danced like this since prom."

Peeta chuckles.

"Same here. You're much prettier than my date was, though."

_Raise your hopeful voice. You have a choice. You've made it known._

She laughs and drifts closer to his body.

"I went with Gale. He said that I was shitty dancer," she smiles faintly. "Of course, I did manage to step on his toes at least a dozen times, so I guess I can't really blame him."

She's being stupid. She knows that this is a dangerous situation for her. Katniss has always worked much better on her own. No distractions have always meant no complications, though she's beginning to wonder what she would be distracting herself from in the first place. It used to be Prim that her life revolved around, but she's got Rory now. Being pre-med and engaged, she won't be needing her big sister as much.

Peeta's girlfriend will be home soon, though, and then maybe she'll be able to get on with her usual routine. She'll work, help Prim plan her wedding, and go on with her life. Maybe she'll stop by the deli on occasion, though she doubts it. She'll find a way to manage without this man occupying her time and thoughts. She'll pretend as if what she feels now was just a fleeting attraction. They'll simply be two ships that passed in the night.

_Falling slowly; eyes that know me, and I can't go back._

"Your uncle's been watching us like a hawk," he leans forward to whisper in her ear. She is unable to suppress the small shiver than runs down her spine. "And Gale, but he's had his eye on you all night."

Katniss turns her head slightly, catching Gale's eye for a split second before he turns in the opposite direction. She notes that Johanna stands only a few feet away, and is surprised at the fact. Normally, they avoid each other like the plague.

"Dare I say that Mr. Hawthorne doesn't care much for me?" Peeta's words are still a whisper, though he's removed his lips from near her ear. She has to lean forward a little in order to catch them all.

"Yes, well, Mr. Hawthorne will just have to get over it. He's still on my shit list."

Somewhere deep down, Peeta actually feels bad for the guy. _ Really _deep down.

_ And moods that take me and erase me and I'm painted black._

"Sounds like a list I'd be smart to avoid."

"So I've been told."

_ Well, you have suffered enough. And warred with yourself. It's time that you won._

Peeta thinks of what Prim said to him just a little while ago. He hopes that when it's all said and done with Glimmer that Katniss won't push him away like her sister predicts. Knowing that it makes him seem like a lovesick thirteen year old, he's already admitted to himself that he's pretty sure that any kind of rejection from the woman currently in his arms would be almost, if not impossible, to bare.

_Take this sinking boat, and point it home. We've still got time._

"Thanks again for helping me out with this, Peeta. I really do appreciate it."

"It was no problem, I swear. Plus," he pauses to grin at her. They're much closer now than they were at the beginning of this song. "I get to dance with a pretty girl. _And _it's a party with no couples making out in the hot tub."

_Raise your hopeful voice. You have a choice. You've made it known._

Katniss laughs and his stomach tightens at the sound. The way the corners of her eyes crinkle and her nose slightly scrunches shouldn't be allowed. It's far too cute for him to ignore.

_Falling slowly, sing your melody. I'll sing along. _

When he joins her with laughter of his own, Katniss feels as if everything inside of her stills. It scares her. Terrifies her, even. She wonders, briefly, if the draw she feels now is similar to what Gale has always felt for her.

The music stops suddenly and there's an odd transition into the next song. It throws Peeta off momentarily. He and Katniss are still; arms remaining folded around each other. When she starts to chuckle, he looks at her skeptically. She shakes her head briefly and explains.

"Prim's always thought the last couple of lines in the song are too sad. Too final. I didn't realize she'd go as far as cutting them off, though," she pauses and looks over to where her sister stands, head leaning against Rory. Prim lifts one shoulder in a shrug and the sisters share a smile. She turns back to Peeta. "You know, I'm still going to find some way to pay you back."

_'Holding you like this is enough,' _he thinks to himself, his fingers involuntarily squeezing her waist a little. He grins and echoes his words from the coffee shop.

"I'm sure we'll be able to figure something out." He reluctantly releases his hold on her and they withdraw from one another. As she starts to move away in order to retrieve her shoes, he calls out to her. "Oh, and Katniss? You're a wonderful dancer. Gale's an idiot."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thanks again for all of the reviews, pm's, and alerts! I really do appreciate every one of them. Sorry that my updates have been lacking some serious speed lately, but I guess that's just the way that life goes. A lot going on.

I did want to touch on one subject very briefly. I've gotten a few reviews on this story about how Gale is portrayed. Honestly, Gale is one of my favorite characters in the series simply because of how realistic he is. That being said, I've tried to write him the same way. I never intended for anyone to feel that he's 'manipulating' Katniss into feeling guilty or sorry for him. I personally think that the way he expresses his feelings toward Katniss in both my story, as well as the books, is a very realistic response when given their history.

Just wanted to get that out. Since he is one of my favorites, I think he gets a lot of undeserved flak, and I wanted to stand up for him. :)


	8. At Their Worst

Most nights that Katniss is unable to sleep, it's due to the barrage of reccurring nightmares involving her parents.

There's the one where she and Prim are somehow with them in the car, and she's the only survivor. There's the one where she's the pedestrian that causes the accident. There's also the variation where she's the one to die, and her entire family is able to move on as if she never existed in the first place. She's not sure which one is the worst.

None of them are the reason that she's currently flipping through the stations on the television, jumping from infomercial to infomercial, however. Nope, that would be due to the fact that each time she tries to close her eyes and settle down to sleep, her mind conjures up the memory of the way his hands felt on her waist last night. Of the warm, tingly feeling that reached all the way down to her toes when she was wrapped in his arms. Of just how blue his eyes are.

Trying not to think of Peeta Mellark is proving to be quite the challenge.

Prim's already turned in for the night, leaving her older sister alone in her silent struggle. After finally growing tired of seeing at least half a dozen washed-up celebrities hock second-rate products, Katniss finally settles on popping in her 'Dirty Dancing' dvd. It'll be at least 2AM before the movie is over with, and she's glad that she has tomorrow off.

Johnny Castle has just made his appearance on the screen when her phone starts to vibrate from its spot on the coffee table. She leans forward to retrieve it and freezes at the name displayed on the screen. Checking the time, she wonders why in the world would he be calling her after midnight.

"Hello?"

There are muffled sounds coming from the other end; loud, obnoxious music and voices trying to be heard over it. When she doesn't hear a response, she repeats herself, adding his name onto the end of the greeting.

"Hello? Peeta?"

Still nothing.

_'Great. He freaking pocket-dialed me. I've managed to get all worked up over a pocket-dial.'_

She's just getting ready to press the 'end' button on her phone when it gets noticeably quieter on the other side. She can hear what sounds like a heavy door falling closed.

"Katniss, can you hear me?"

His voice is loud and his words are coming out slurred and clumsy. She's not sure if this is going to make talking to him easier or that much harder.

"Yeah, Peeta. I can hear you. What's up?" Her voice is thick as her throat threatens to close up on her. She coughs a little and gets up to walk toward the kitchen in order to fill a glass with water. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Well, no... Not really at the moment, but yeah..." His voice trails off and Katniss can almost picture him shaking his head from side to side in an attempt to get his thoughts in order. He clears his throat and continues after a beat. "If it's okay, I kind of need to cash in on that favor..."

Half an hour later, after giving her apartment a thorough run-through to ensure lack of embarrassment, Katniss is pacing the sidewalk in front of her apartment building. Seconds after hanging up from their phone call, she had sent her address to Peeta in a text. They had stayed on the phone until a cab had shown up, and Peeta should really have been here by now. The bar he had apparently been 'drowning his sorrows' in was only a, maybe, ten minute drive.

She's getting ready to head back inside, convinced that Peeta's changed his mind, when she hears the sound of a car approaching. The cause of his delay is obvious as she watches him pass a Mellark's Deli bag over the seat and into the taxi driver's hand, along with his cab fare. He stumbles a little when he pulls himself out of the backseat, and she's shocked when the driver rolls down the passenger side window to inquire whether or not he's okay. It seems that even while drunk, Peeta Mellark is still able to charm just about anyone.

"Katniss!" His tone sounds happier than it did over the phone. "I brought us a snack... a midnight snack. Well, an hour passed midnight snack."

He stops in his tracks, and she watches his eyes wander over her form. From where he stands just a few feet away, his gaze somehow manages to make her both squirm as well as relish the feeling the of his eyes on her. Self-consciously, she pulls at the edges of her gym shorts and wraps her sweatshirt clad arms tight around her torso.

"I have a feeling that we should probably get you to bed soon, Peeta," Katniss says, smiling as she steps forward just as he trips over his own feet. Her hands land on his forearms, doing her best to hold him upright in his not-so-steady state. Avoiding eye contact, she starts to move him to the building's entryway. She wrinkles her nose her a little. "After you take a shower that is. You smell like Uncle Haymitch on a bad day."

He doesn't seem to be embarrassed and just gives her a shrug in response. While her statement isn't entirely false, she's amazed that underneath the stench of cheap booze and cigar smoke his scent still manages to draw her in. She leans farther into his side, using his current state as an excuse to be close. The amount of weight he's actually putting on her leads her to believe that he's probably much more intoxicated than she originally thought. The trek up to her fourth floor apartment takes significantly longer than usual.

He's too drunk to pretend that he's not relishing the feel of her body pressed tightly against his side, her small hand wrapped around his waist. He's surprised that they make it to the top of the stairs before he relents and buries his nose in her hair. She must have showered not long before he had called; it's still damp.

"Your hair smells like honeysuckle."

She shoots him a surprised look and he chuckles softly.

"What? A guy can't know what honeysuckle smells like?"

Katniss doesn't say a word, ushering him into her apartment as quietly as possible. If Prim were to catch a very drunk Peeta Mellark hanging all over her she would surely never hear the end of it. She relinquishes her hold on him in order to shut the door behind them. The throw rug in the entryway gets caught in the process and she has to bend down flip the corner over.

When she turns, the sight of Peeta leaning against the arm of the couch, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck, makes her freeze. There's a crooked smile playing on his face, but it's his eyes that have her breath catching in her throat. Katniss has never particularly understood the use of the word 'primal' when used outside of referencing wild animals, but she's pretty sure that's the only way to describe the look he's giving her at the moment.

_'Oh shit,'_ she thinks, completely unsure of what to do now.

_'What the hell, Mellark?'_ He asks himself when he sees the way that her muscles tense slightly after turning to face him again.

He thinks back to earlier in the night and how he had told himself that all of those tequila shots were probably a bad idea. They were free, though, courtesy of the three middle-aged women seated at the opposite side of the bar. He couldn't very well turn them down.

Of course, a non-tequila enhanced Peeta would have never had the balls to call Katniss and ask to stay at her place for the night. He wouldn't be standing in her living room eyeing her like she's a meal, either. And he certainly wouldn't be as apathetic to those first two things as he is right now. Or maybe he would. The pull that the woman standing only a few feet away has over him is pretty damn intense.

_'And those gym shorts don't help...'_

"Alright, drunkie," Katniss starts, choosing to ignore the warm feeling in her gut. "Come with me."

She moves passed him, her hand latching onto his elbow to pull him along. Once they're in her room, she pushes him gently in the direction of the bathroom and tells him that towels are in the cabinet over the sink. When she shuts the door behind him, she lets out a long breath and practically throws her head into her hands. Waiting until she hears the shower turn on, she straightens up and lifts her face from her palms only to start pacing the room like a madwoman.

_'Calm down. Calm down. He's drunk. You can handle drunk. He managed to deal with you when you were wasted. You can do this.'_

She's doesn't stop walking in circles until the shower stops running.

_'Oh God... He's not going to want to put those smelly clothes back on,'_ she tells herself, rifling through her underwear drawer and pulling out a pair of boxers that she sometimes sleeps in. She wonders if they would even fit him. _'How the hell do boxer sizes work anyway?'_

"Uh, I figured if I smelled as bad as you said I did, you wouldn't want me to put those rank clothes back on..."

Katniss looks over her shoulder when she hears his voice; the boxers in one hand and an embarrassingly see-through pair of red panties in the other. He's peeking out from the behind the bathroom door, only one half of his body visible. Unfortunately, the boxers are not what she's holding in the only hand that Peeta has a clear view of.

"Didn't think you'd want me in those, though," he says, nodding his head down at her hand.

She glances down and the mortification that takes over her very being is clear as her face turns just as red as the scrap of lace she's holding. To make matters worse, when she looks back up to explain, Peeta has moved from his spot behind the door.

Less than ten feet away, the man that she's been imagining naked for weeks now is standing in nothing but a pair of navy blue boxer-briefs. He's running a towel over his wet curls and she's more interested than she should be in the way that his darkened locks drip water onto and down his chest. She unconsciously pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and follows a singular drop of moisture down the planes of his torso.

A slight chuckle forces her attention upward. Whens she sees the smirk on Peeta's face. She hopes that he's so drunk that he won't remember any of this tomorrow. She hopes that he's so drunk that he doesn't notice the way that she involuntarily squeezes her thighs together.

He doesn't miss it. He's been so highly attuned to the placement of her body since he walked out of the steamy bathroom that there's no way that he could. His Adam's apple bobs up and down harshly as he swallows, and he's pretty sure that his current inebriated state isn't the only cause of his unsteady stance.

"Th-these aren't going to fit you," she stammers, holding up the boxers and giving his body another once-over before realizing what a creep she sounds like. Shoving the shorts back into her drawer, she has to look away as he raises an eyebrow at her. "Uhm... God, I, er... I didn't mean it like that..."

"And how did you mean it, Katniss?"

She bites her bottom lip and tries her best to look irritated. It's hard when he has that stupid, charming smile on his face, though.

"Oh, shut up and get in the bed."

He can't resist; not really. Her face is already so red, and his head feels so fuzzy. He attempts to pull a serious expression, but is pretty sure that he's failing miserably.

"Yes, ma'am," he says simply, taking a few steps forward to lean down for her hand. She's rooted to her spot though, still kneeling down in front of her dresser. When he hooks his fingers around Katniss's elbow, the look on her face brings his laughter bubbling to the surface.

"God, Peeta." She yanks her arm away and moves to stand upright. "You... Fuck, you... Just get in the bed. I'm taking the couch tonight."

"I'm not going to steal your bed. I'll take the couch," he says, even as he's lowering his suddenly too heavy to stand body onto the mattress.

"A," Katniss starts, smiling a little at the way he sinks back onto the pillow. "There's no way that you would even fit on that sofa. B, you're pretty much naked. Prim is an early riser. I don't want to have to answer any questions. And 3, you're _already in the bed_."

"You switched from letters to numbers," he says as he rolls over onto his side; his smile getting buried in the pillow.

_'Yeah. Well, see point B,' _she thinks.

"You need anything before I head out there?"

She wonders if he's already fallen asleep when he doesn't answer her. When she goes to grab her cellphone from the nightstand however, he reaches out and proves her wrong.

"Just stay with me. You'll have to answer questions if _either_ of us sleeps on the couch, really."

Katniss doesn't say a word, and he's briefly worried. She spends a few seconds with her eyes slightly unfocused, and he can almost see the wheels turning inside her head. He thinks that maybe he should take it back somehow; make her feel not quite so uncomfortable. She sits on the edge of the bed, though, slipping her arms out of the sleeves of her sweatshirt, and he's glad that his mouth hadn't managed to catch up with his brain. The back of her tank top rides up a little, and he has to urge himself not to reach out and touch her bare skin.

"Scoot over," she shoots him a pointed look. Her hand nudges his side, and he complies. "This is my side."

"Good to know."

A warm feeling creeps into her stomach, and she decides it's probably best if she just ignores the words that he would probably never say if sober. Less than a minute later, with the light on her bedside table turned off, they lie in complete silence; both staring at the ceiling above them, arms flush against their sides. Katniss thinks that the hum of the ceiling fan has never seemed louder.

"I broke up with my girlfriend."

His voice seems louder than usual to the both of them.

"I sort of figured... Do you, do you want to talk about it?"

"No, not really."

He's in a pretty good mood at the moment, room spinning and all, and would rather not ruin it. He waits a beat before speaking again.

"What were you doing before?"

"Huh?" She turns her head to face him. In the light coming in through the blinds, she can see that his eyes are closed, their lashes brushing the skin underneath. "Before what?"

"Before I called."

"I was watching a movie."

"What movie?"

His voice is slow and sleep-filled, and doing strange things to her.

"Oh, uh... _Dirty Dancing_," she says in a rush, hoping that he either won't care enough to tease, or has already fallen asleep. When she feels his shoulders lift and he shifts to face her, though, she knows she isn't that lucky.

"Katniss," he says in a serious voice. His hand seeks out her shoulder, and he lays his palm over it, gripping her gently. "I had no idea that I interrupted your time alone with Patrick Swayze. Please, tell me what I can do to make it up to you."

Peeta laughs as she throws his hand off, and then proceeds to slap playfully at his chest. He traps her hand in his, and the feeling of lacing his fingers with hers makes him feel especially bold. His current location and state of undress should already have him feeling this way, but no. It's the simple act of holding her hand like a seventh grader with his first crush that has his heart beating harder in his chest.

Until she pulls it away to smack him again.

"Oh, shut up and go to sleep, Mellark."

He laughs and throws an arm up to rest over his eyes. She falls asleep thinking of the smile on his lips.

* * *

It has literally been years since Katniss Everdeen has woken up in a bed and not been alone. Even so, she feels like she should still be embarrassed with the way her body irrefutably sold her out during the night.

She's fairly sure that she would normally be ashamed of the way that her left leg is hitched up over Peeta's hip. Her foot is hooked behind his calf, pulling their lower bodies much closer together than the solid two feet that had separated them when they'd fallen asleep. One of her arms is trapped between their torsos, her palm splayed flat against his stomach.

Yes, she would definitely be embarrassed... If it weren't for the obvious ways that Peeta's body has betrayed him as well. Instead, she finds the way that his erection is currently pressed tight against her groin and how his fingers have dipped themselves into the waistband of her gym shorts, near her hip, more arousing than anything else. It's a pretty easy way to ignore the mortification, really.

Angling her chin slightly upward, she takes in the way that his nose twitches just a little as the hair on top of her head brushes against it. It's not until his eyelids begin to flutter that she realizes he's waking up and starts to panic. She shimmies her hips a little, trying to untangle their limbs, and his involuntary response of mimicking her movements helps her to understand just how stupid the idea really is.

She hisses a little at the way that he feels against her, and looks up just in time to see his eyes open. Just a crack at first, and then impossibly wide; the short amount of time between the two would be comical if she didn't feel like hiding in a hole.

"Morning," he says slowly, his throat dry and voice thick from sleep. He swallows hard and looks down at their bodies, jumbled together and half-clothed. "Oh, God... I, I'm sorry."

Peeta watches as she ducks her already reddened face down and slides her leg over and away from him. He tries to cover up his sharp intake of breath with a weird, strangled sounding laugh, but it's no use. It's not like she doesn't already know what's going on down there right now.

"No need to apologize. Judging by the way... Well, judging by all of... _this_, it looked pretty mutual."

He closes his eyes and goes to roll over so that he's fully on his back when he becomes conscious of the fact that he still has his hand stuck down her pants. Well, _essentially_ stuck down her pants. He pulls it away and wishes for a hole to hide in.

"You're going to need water... And a massive, greasy breakfast to help with the hangover," she says as she climbs out of the bed. "And clothes. I'm going to throw yours from last night in the wash. None... Er, none of my clothes are going to fit you, but there's a robe on the back of the bathroom door."

He watches as she makes her way in and out of the bathroom, emerging with an armful of his clothes. She leaves the room a second later without bothering to look back.

_'Damn it,'_ he thinks. Rolling over onto his side, he pushes his body off the mattress. His head aches a little as he sits up, and he leans over to hold it in his hands. His skin smells like honeysuckle, and it vaguely brings back the memory of him standing in Katniss's shower. Despite his growing embarrassment, he smiles.

_'Katniss, you are 26 years old. This sort of shit happens every day to other people... I think. Does it? Damn it.'_

She's pacing the kitchen. The washing machine is steadily filling with water, and the hashbrowns are already starting to sizzle and pop in the frying pan on the stove.

It's been too long. She seemed too eager. Surely she scared him off. What had she been trying to do in the first place, though?

All of these things, and more, are running through her head. She's so distracted that she doesn't even hear him as he enters the kitchen.

"I think those are burning."

His voice, still deep and foreign sounding this early in the morning, causes her to jump. He's right, though.

"Shit!"

Scrambling to the stove, she picks up the pan in one hand and the spatula in the other. Noting that there's not too much damage, she sighs and turns to tell him that they're still salvageable. Of course, at the sight of the large, blond man standing just a few feet away, wearing her cerulean blue terrycloth robe, she just bursts into laughter instead.

Peeta chuckles good naturedly and does a little spin, extending his arms out to the sides. When he plops down into one of the chairs at the tiny kitchen table, resting his elbows on the peeling laminate top, a good chunk of the awkwardness surrounding the situation dissipates. Still, she feels more at ease with her back to him, so she speaks as she fills two glasses with water.

"So... Ready to talk about exactly why you felt the need the go out and get wasted last night?"

"Maybe after you hand me that water," he says, and she can almost hear the smile in his voice.

Without looking back, she extends her arm, with the glass in her hand, out behind her. Without the sizzling of the hashbrowns in the skillet to fill the room, his swallows are audible as he drains the glass in less than a minute. He pushes his chair back and moves to help himself to the water pitcher in the fridge. Katniss watches him from the corner of her eye, unable to help the smirk on her face at the way his pale, muscled legs peek out from the bottom of her robe.

"I wish that I could say that my behavior last night was due to the fact that was I simply celebrating my freedom."

Peeta watches as Katniss pushes a plate filled with the (mostly) unburnt hashbrowns in front of him. As she slides into the chair across from him, she looks up and raises her eyebrows, urging him to go on.

"Everything was going fine... Until she decided that I wasn't nearly as heartbroken and upset as she thought I should be..."

Katniss chews slowly as he continues his tale of what had transpired the night before. He keeps his eyes fixed on his plate as he recounts the way that Glimmer had gone on about how it was like he'd 'never loved her at all'. He gives a slight shrug when he lets Katniss in on the fact that he hadn't, really.

"I never told her that I loved her. I wouldn't lie about something like that," he says, running a hand through his still messy hair.

She can tell that he feels as if he owes her this explanation after the way that he had invited himself to her apartment last night. His discomfort is obvious, though, and she places her hand on the table, contemplating reaching out for his. Instead, she lets it sit there, fingers tensed and slightly curled under.

"You don't have to talk about it, you know... It's not like you owe it to me, or anything."

He looks up then, reaching his hand across the table to lay atop hers. After a second, he removes it, but leaves it close enough to where their fingertips barely brush. He gives her a look that says that he knows, but continues to talk anyway.

"That's awful, though, isn't it? To be with someone for almost a year and never tell them that you love them? Or hell, to be with someone that you know you don't love for that long. I don't know which is worse."

"Maybe you thought you could love her one day," she states simply, shoving her now empty plate to the side.

Peeta doesn't say anything, and just shakes his head slightly. He's not sure how to let the woman in front of him know that he's just spent the last year of his life with a woman he didn't love simply to appease his witch of a mother.

"You're giving me too much credit," he sighs. "At any rate, she started to cry and eventually asked if there was someone else."

Katniss immediately wonders what he told her. She tries not to let her curiosity show, standing to take their plates to the sink.

He watches her closely, wishing that he could see her face to get a read on her reaction.

"After the, _maybe_, three seconds of silence that followed, she picked up a book from the coffee table and threw it at the wall."

Katniss turns around, returning to her seat, with one eyebrow raised.

"I really just sat there and let her fling insults at me and books at the wall until she ran out of both. She cried some more and then tried to kiss me... And that's about the time that I saw the fading hickeys along the side of her neck."

"Oh God... I'm sorry," Katniss cringes.

"I started to laugh, actually. Said something to the effect of how I, unlike her, had been able to keep it in my pants. Not my finest moment. I kind of felt bad about it, to tell the truth."

The washing machine stops its last spin cycle and Katniss hurries over to it. When she bends down to throw his clothes into the dryer, he tries his best to concentrate on his words instead of her ass.

"Sounds pretty tame compared to what I would've said to her," she calls over her shoulder as she throws a couple of dryer sheets into the machine.

"Well, I'm much nicer than you," he teases and he watches her start to fiddle with the coffee machine on the counter. "That's when she started getting nasty, though. Called me an 'emotional adulterer'."

"Big words for someone named after a half-assed verb."

He smirks, and the muscles in her stomach tense.

"She watches a lot of soaps," he says with a laugh. "She said that she should've known that was more my style because, apparently, I'm about as passionate as a rock. Which lead to even more yelling, and me going out and getting shitfaced."

_'And making a fool of myself in front of you,' _he thinks.

Katniss winces and motions for him to get up and follow her into the living room. She folds her legs up underneath her as she sits on the sofa, and tries not to grin at the way Peeta tries to find a way to sit without the robe falling open. Eventually, he gives up, splaying his legs and holding a throw pillow over his crotch.

"She's wrong, you know," she says, trying her best to keep a straight face. Peeta just shoots her a confused look and she gestures down at the spot where his hands lie. "The way that you just went for it and shoved that pillow against your crotch... _That_ was pretty passionate."

_'And the way you were holding me this morning... That was pretty passionat, too,' _she tacks on silently.

He shakes his head, grins, and rolls his eyes all at the same time. Before he can think twice about it, he takes the throw pillow and smacks the side of her head with it. She gives him a look that says,_ 'Really?'_, and he laughs a little while shrugging.

She gets up then, picking the remote up from the opposite end of the coffee table. Once she settles back into her spot, she's relieved to see that he's returned the cushion back to the spot on his lap. She stretches her legs out in front of her, crossing them at the ankles on the tabletop and presses a few buttons on the remote.

"Now," she says, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. "You're going to watch 'Dirty Dancing' with me until your clothes are dry, and then you've got to go. I have to meet Cinna to get fitted for my dress for the wedding at ten."

Roughly half an hour later, she walks him to her door to say goodbye. He makes a joke about how now they've both seen each other at their worst, and Katniss groans as she thinks back to the disappearing act she pulled. She thanks him for actually sticking around and not complaining about the half-burnt breakfast she'd served him.

He's already moved into the hallway when she says his name. He turns around and she lays a hand on his forearm. She looks down at the floor for a second before she's able to find her voice.

"She's an idiot, you know. You deserve a lot better than that."

He smiles down at the petite brunette and thanks her.

She almost has the door shut behind her when she hears him call her name. Poking her head out, she answers him.

"Yeah?"

"I was just... Look, I know that my timing is weird, or whatever, but yeah...," he flounders around a little before snapping out of it. "Do you want to maybe get together sometime later this week? Have dinner, or go to a movie, or something?"

Katniss studies him for a second. Both of his hands are stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans, and he rocks back onto the heels of his feet. If she had to guess, she would say that he's nervous, and the very thought makes her feel light-headed.

"I'd like that," she says, and is rewarded with what she's quite sure is the largest smile she's ever seen.

Peeta nods and turns toward the stairs. There's something akin to a strut in his walk as he walks away. He makes his way home, the small, sweet smile she had given him with her reply playing on a constant loop in his head.

So he certainly doesn't understand why every call he makes to her over the next three days goes unanswered.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks again for all of the reviews, alerts, and favorites you guys have given to this story. It's greatly appreciated. :)

I'm sorry that it's taken so long for an update, but you know... life happens, other story ideas pop up (Infinity), and other stories needed to be brought to their close (Maybe It's Just Me). Thanks for hanging in there and being patient.


	9. Rendered Speechless

"And then you had one of your inner panic attacks and just lied about having the dress fitting so that he would leave?"

Johanna's brow is raised, as she takes another drag of her cigarette. The woman seated at the table behind them starts to cough loudly, and the pixie-haired brunette just rolls her eyes, making sure to send another cloud of smoke in the same direction.

"Johanna!" Annie scolds, leaning around her friend's seat to throw the coughing woman an apologetic look.

"What? She should've sat inside."

Katniss nervously picks at the crust of her sandwich, hoping that Jo is about to go off on her usual tangent about how awful non-smokers are at trying to make her feel like shit for her habit. She doesn't want to talk about Peeta, or his phone calls that she hasn't been returning.

She doesn't even know why she brought it up in the first place.

_'Because you do want to talk about it,' _she scolds herself.

For the past three days, it's been hard for her to think of anything but that ridiculously cute smile he'd had on his face standing in the hallway outside of her apartment. Of course, the words that he'd said only a moment before had come crashing into her thoughts as well. They had managed to turn her mind into a chaotic, mess of a thing.

_'Now that we've both seen each other at our worst...'_

The sentence rattles around her head relentlessly.

It's ridiculous how quickly, when strung together, those ten little words have managed to put her in a complete tailspin. Anyone else wouldn't give them a second thought. They would laugh at his harmless joke and then forget it completely.

She can't stop thinking about it.

It's probably true on Peeta's end, of course. She's convinced herself that the most dreadful he can truly be is a drunken flirt who's just broken up with a girlfriend that didn't deserve him anyway. Surely a man with a smile like his is incapable of anything worse.

Hell, if Peeta had thought that Katniss, drunk and a little rambly was her worst, he was sadly mistaken. At her worst, she was much more than drunk and confrontational. Spilling her guts and then disappearing the follow morning was_ nothing _compared to her worst.

No, Katniss at her most atrocious destroys people. She ruins them for others and is completely unable to fix it. She runs from her problems and buries her feelings. When she was younger, she threw herself into taking care of Prim. Without that excuse, she doesn't know what she'll do now if she needs to avoid the reality of her actions. Surely it won't be too hard to figure out. She's always been good at creating distractions for herself.

She just silently hopes that it doesn't come to that. That Peeta Mellark can forget her and move on. That he is able to dismiss whatever this feeling is that she's trying so hard to ignore herself. She hopes that she's thinking too highly of herself; that his is just a passing attraction - brief and fleeting.

She hopes that he has the good sense to retreat before she can ruin him, too.

Jo snaps her fingers in front of Katniss's face, and she jumps a little.

"_What?_"

"I _asked_ if you knew that guy over there," she says, her voice turning into an irritable mutter as she continues. "_Like four fucking times_."

Annie chimes in, hoping to diffuse any tension as she lays a hand on Katniss's forearm.

"The tall blond in line for the ATM near the corner. He keeps looking over here at you."

She looks up and tries to stifle a groan when she spots Cato's hulking form a few yards away. He's busy stuffing some cash and his print out he's just received from the machine into his wallet, and she thinks that maybe he hasn't spotted her. His head swivels back toward their table and she's just a half-second too slow when trying to avert her eyes.

_'Shit.'_

"Katniss, hey," he says as he approaches. He stops beside their table, on the other side of the wrought iron gate surrounding the restaurant's patio.

_'Why? Why would you make this more awkward than it has to be? You take me on two shitty dates, we both essentially ditch each other for someone else's company, and now you want to actually speak to me? Just act like any normal person and pretend like you never saw me here.'_

"Hi, Cato."

Her voice is flat and she offers him a tight-lipped smile. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Johanna mouth _'Cato' _to Annie with one eyebrow raised. She knows that the polite thing would be to introduce them, but the polite thing for him to have done would have been not taking her to his ex-girlfriend's party in order to make her jealous.

"How've you been?"

He stuffs his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, and she can't help the small smirk that appears on her lips at how uncomfortable he seems to be.

"I'm good."

She doesn't ask how he's been. Mostly because she doesn't care, but also because she'd rather this be over as soon as possible. The look of unease on his face ensures her that the rest of their conversation will be quick.

"Well, uh... It was, it was good seeing you," he runs a hand through his hair in an almost timid manner. "Maybe I can call you sometime?"

_'...the hell?' _

"I don't really think that's necessary, do you?"

The corner of his lip curls up in an odd, embarrassed sort of smile. He nods, and then walks off, his hands still deep in his pockets.

"Okay, so let me get this straight," Johanna starts, leaning to the side in order to watch Cato as he walks away. "Don't get me wrong, he's pretty cute, but still... You went on two dates with _that_, but won't even give Peeta a shot at one?"

Katniss sighs and places the napkin that she's been wringing around her hands on top of the plate that's holding her half-eaten sandwich. It wasn't nearly as good as anything she could have gotten at Mellarks. She inwardly cringes at the way that her subconscious is betraying her before answering.

"To be fair-"

"What? He has a really nice car? A huge dick?" Johanna interrupts her, and she has to resist the urge to knock the cigarette out of her friend's hand. "Because, honestly, the guy took you to his ex-girlfriend's party, ditched you, and just had the balls to ask if he could call you again."

Annie snorts and Katniss cuts her eyes over at her much quieter friend. A sheepish look crosses her face and she just shrugs a little before continuing to sip her sweet tea.

"I was _going_ to say that he was first guy that had actually asked me out in years." She looks away, staring at a random point over Jo's shoulder. The rest of her reply is a mutter, but she makes sure it's loud enough to reach her friends' ears. "Besides, I ditched him, too..."

"Yeah... for Peeta." Annie smiles as she says it and Katniss barely has time to scowl at her before Johanna starts to almost howl with laughter.

"Exactly!" Jo's declaration is loud, and earns a wayward glance from more than just one nearby diner. Oblivious to this fact, she crushes her cigarette into the ashtray situated by her drink glass, and throws her hands into the air. "Exactly! You ditched that d-bag for Peeta, who, let's see... Coaches his niece's soccer team, carried your drunk ass home without even trying to put the moves on you, catered your little sister's engagement party _free of freak'n charge_, and looks at you like the sun shines out of your ass. So please, enlighten us as to why you won't even call him back."

Katniss opens her mouth to speak, but closes it a second later, completely unsure of what to say. She looks at Annie, thinking that surely she'll say something to calm Johanna down; something to rescue her. Instead, she sits there, wrapping a lock of her long, wavy hair around her index finger, refusing to look up.

_'Traitor.'_

"Fine," she says, her voice flat, and eyes glued to the table in front of her. "You know how I am. I wreck things. I wreck people. I ruined Gale, and I don't want to do the same thing to Peeta. He deserves better."

She doesn't elaborate, and neither woman listening expects for her to. In fact, they're both in a mild state of shock that they've managed to get this much out of her. Johanna kicks Katniss's foot under the table, and lights up another cigarette before offering her thoughts.

"I think he's a big boy, Katniss. He can decide what he deserves and what he wants all on his own. If you're what he wants, and you want him, I think it'll just hurt him more if you don't even bother to try," she pauses and there's an uncharacteristically soft look in her eyes for a fraction of a second before a saucy grin splits over her face. "Besides, I have seen that ass. You don't just let an ass like that pass you by."

* * *

"No moping around the lake house this weekend, man. I mean it," Finnick threatens, balling up his apron to throw at Peeta's face. "If I were a chick, I might think this whole brooding thing was sexy, but alas, that is not the case."

"Brooding? My son... brooding? There's no way."

Peeta turns his head to see his father, crossing the threshold into the kitchen. He raises his hand a little from the dough he's currently kneading, and lifts his fingers in a silent greeting.

"Oh, Sir," Finnick slings an arm over the shoulders of the kitchen's newest arrival. "Our dear Peeta here has become the _King_ of brooding over the past couple of days. Yes, long gone are the days of the cheerful, always a smile on his face Peeta."

Finnick leads Mr. Mellark over to stand across from his friend and they both stare at the blond man as he attempts to blow his hair from his forehead. Peeta glances up at them and shakes his head a little, his lips in a hard line.

"Woman troubles, you see. It's terrible," the bronze-haired man continues, his flair for the dramatic having fully taken over. "Checks his phone every five minutes like a sixteen year old girl. His awful mood makes it much harder to slack off here at work, too."

Peeta finally gives up on trying to concentrate, and slams the heels of his hands down forcibly into the dough on the counter. He gives Finn a hard stare before moving to the sink to wash up. Hearing a chair scrape across the floor, he turns to see his dad seated at an empty prep table and Finnick hoisting himself onto a nearby counter top. Peeta runs his hands over his eyes and leans back against one of the fridges, readying himself for the onslaught of inevitable questions.

"I didn't know that you were taking the breakup with Glimmer this badly, Peet."

One look at his father leaves him feeling slightly guilty. He's always been closer to his dad than either of his brothers are. Leif, too caught up in being a father himself, and Chord, too much like their mother. His father is the one that helped him get through losing his soccer scholarship and had driven him to all of his therapy sessions. He helped him through his first heartbreak, helped him find his first apartment, and helped make the transition from regular employee to owner when he'd decided to retire. Other than Finnick, his father is his closest friend.

And he hasn't mentioned Katniss to him at all. He doesn't even know why.

_'Because you didn't want to look like the asshole that falls for one girl while dating another.'_

The look on Finnick's face is dangerous, and Peeta sends a glare his way to let him know to keep his mouth shut.

"Uhm," he starts, scratching at the side of his neck nervously. "It's not Glimmer that has me so upset."

His words hang in the air for a moment, and he's sure that his father can only think of how disappointed he is with him. He's confused when a small smile takes over the older man's face.

"Thank God, son. I never really understood you with her anyway."

Finnick's laugh is loud, and Peeta is sure that if it weren't for the radio playing in the corner of the room, it would echo off the walls. He joins in with a quieter chuckle of his own. Looking over at his father, he sees a soft look in the blue eyes that are so much like his own.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

He watches as his dad waves a dismissive hand in his direction.

"I figured it was none of this old man's business," he says.

Peeta sees his father's gaze flicker briefly down to the simple gold wedding band on his left hand. Maybe what he wants to say is that he didn't want to be a hypocrite. He didn't want to chastise his son for being with a woman out of convenience rather than love. The moment is fleeting, however, and his eyes meet his son's once more.

"This one, though... Is she worth it? Is she worth all of this supposed moping you've been doing?"

He nods once, his movement sure and steady, but finds himself without words. It's hard for him to actually say just what about Katniss makes his shitty mood over these last few days worth it. He's soon wrapped up in thoughts of the woman in question.

The way his chest had tightened the first time their fingers brushed when he handed her order to her that day in the deli.

How he watched her dance with her sister that night in the bar, her moves more silly than sexy, and the warm feeling he'd been left with.

The small smile that was playing on her lips as she'd called him out on not knowing how to use a bow that night at the sporting goods store, half an hour before closing.

Her promise to never call him Gimpy, followed by Finnick's interruption and the porch swing's upheaval.

How she listened closely to Rue's vivid recall of every play she made on the soccer field that morning, followed by the way she'd looked wrapped up in his grandmother's blanket on the couch later that night.

The feeling of her fingers wrapped around his elbow while the cashier at the coffee shop batted her eyelashes at him.

Their hands swinging between the seats of the van.

Her body drifting closer and closer to his as they danced at Prim's engagement party.

The heat of her leg thrown over his hip when they'd woken up together just three days ago... The genuinely sweet smile on her face when he walked away, down the hallway outside of her apartment, feeling like he'd just won the lottery.

Yes. He's sure that she is more than worth these three days.

"Well," his father's voice interrupts his thoughts and he pries his eyes away from the spot on the wall just above the older man's head. "I see that someone's finally managed to render you speechless. _Must_ be worth it."

* * *

"Quit squirming so much."

"Quit sticking me so much and I'll quit squirming."

"I'm only sticking you because you're squirming," Cinna's voice comes out in more of an exasperated sigh than anything else. He places his hands firmly on her hips before forcing her to face the mirror once more. "And it's a mirror, Katniss. I can see you rolling your eyes at me."

She rolls her eyes again, this time sure that he's seen it, and offers him an empathetic smile. She knows how irritable she's been since arriving at his shop less than an hour ago. Opening her mouth to apologize, he places a straight pin in between his teeth and raises a hand to stop her.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"You know, Prim really should have been here by now," she breaths in deeply. "It's just like her to be late after telling me over and over that I have to be here by five on the dot."

Cinna looks up for a second before rising from his knees to stand in front of her. His eyes meet hers in the mirror, and he raises a brow as he checks to see if the straps will need to be taken up.

"No, it's not."

His words are simple, straightforward, and true. Cinna doesn't meet her gaze again, instead continuing to fiddle with the straps of dress number one. He knows that she'll elaborate given enough time. He's always found that the best way to coax the truth out of his friend is to simply allow her time to get her thoughts into order.

"You're right. Sorry, I'm just a little stressed right now," she says as she turns to examine the dress in the mirror.

"You seemed fine at the party this weekend. One might even say that you looked downright _jubilant_."

"Are we talking about Saturday night? You must be talking about Saturday night," Marvel enters the fitting area, armed with a drink holder filled with coffee. He places it on the floor beside a large, overstuffed sofa, and then makes himself comfortable, leaning his back against one armrest and propping his feet up on the cushions. "I swear, he has used the word 'jubilant' more in the past week when describing you at that party than I've ever heard _anyone_ use it."

"Yes," Cinna starts, turning to shoot his husband a glare. "Because she looked it."

Marvel's forehead creases and he looks over to where Katniss stands. He purses his lips and tries his best to look deep in thought, as if trying to conjure the memory of the woman in front of him dancing in the moonlight on Haymitch's patio. She squirms a little under his scrutiny, and he cracks a grin before reaffirming Cinna's observation.

"How is that handsome man, by the way?" he asks, his voice teasing.

Katniss rolls her eyes and pointedly ignores him. Reaching for her purse on the table beside the sofa, she pulls out her phone and starts to dial.

"I'm calling Prim. She really should have been here by now."

"Don't bother," Marvel pulls his own cell from his pocket and waves it in the air. "Just talked to her. She said she's on her way, but to go ahead and take a picture of this one for her... Sooo... say cheese!"

The flash of his cell phone's camera goes off, and he smirks a little at the scowl he's just captured. She doesn't even respond, and just turns dutifully to the sides and back so that he can take photos from each angle. Cinna follows her to her spot on the small platform in front of the mirrors and gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze before starting to unpin the dress. She offers him a small, apologetic smile.

"The dress really is lovely, Cinna."

"Thank you," he says, leading her over to the couch. He pushes Marvel's feet from the cushion and motions for her to take a seat. "Now, do you want to talk about whatever's going on with you and Mr. Mellark before your sister gets here?"

"No, not really."

_'Yes, I do.'_

"Yes, you do."

_'Damn it.' _

"I wouldn't even know where to start, Cinna." She looks down and starts to fiddle with the end of her braid.

"That's the problem, really..." He selects a garment bag from a rack along the far wall and moves to place it inside the dressing room for her. "You're so focused on how things may end that you completely neglect the beginning and middle. I'm not sure if you realize this, but those tend to have a pretty big effect on what you're so fixated on. And not everything ends in heartbreak."

_'It's not my heartbreak that I'm worried about here...'_

"And don't you dare say that you're worried what you might do to him."

Her head jerks upward and she narrows her eyes at Cinna. He does nothing but shrug his shoulders, and then shoo her back into the fitting room. After unzipping her dress, he lets his voice carry over the soft click of the door shutting.

"What happened with Gale was a long time ago, Katniss. You were both young. I know you think you've perpetrated some terrible wrong, but even if that were true... You can't let yourself believe that you're the same person you were back then. Why should you continue to punish yourself?"

Katniss doesn't speak. Instead, she turns to face dress number two, slipping the straps of the one she has on down her arms. Taking the hanger from its hook, she examines the article of clothing closely. Already, she can tell that this will win over the one she's just stepped out of.

Midnight blue, with a fitted bodice that flares slightly, just below her hips. The skirt, slightly swishy, and slightly pleated, is made to hit right above the knee. She fastens the two, tiny, fabric-covered buttons that secure the dress behind her neck; leaving the expanse of the her back bare down to spot just between her waist line and curve of her backside. Another column of tiny buttons, at least five or six, lead farther down, the bottom button skimming the waistband of her panties.

She slides her palms over the skirt and the cool, silky material reminds her of the fabric of the dress she wore to Prim's party. Immediately, her mind recalls the feeling of Peeta's hands, burning through the layer of clothing as they rested low on her waist. She wonders exactly how many times since meeting him that she's pictured those hands cradling the sides of her face, pulling her mouth closer to his. She pushes her long bangs behind her ear and releases a heavy exhale. Not paying attention to her actions, the ring she's wearing snags on a section of hair and pulls it from her braid. She shakes her head a little, and deftly undoes the entire thing, all the while plagued with thoughts of how he had buried his nose into her hair the other night, his body pulled tight against her own.

'_Great. You can't even try on a dress without thinking of him._'

Rolling her neck from side to side, she gathers her hair over one shoulder and backs out of the doorway. She hears Prim's voice coming from the storefront, happily chattering with Marvel, and can't wait to get this over with so that she can go home and curl up on the couch. Maybe mind-numbing reality television will help clear her thoughts of Peeta.

"Can you get these bottom buttons for me?"

She waits for Cinna to help her, but at the first touch on her lower back, she stiffens. Goosebumps break out over her skin in spite of the warmth that radiates from the fingers that are nimbly securing the buttons into place. Once the last one is fastened, she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and looks up into the mirror that hangs on the wall of the dressing room.

Peeta's blue-eyed gaze reflects back at her and she feels a little unsteady on her feet. His fingers are still fixed on the top button, and as he pulls his hand away, its knuckles graze the skin of her back. His touch on her bare skin is even more enticing than she remembers.

"Hi," he offers, flexing his fingers slightly at his side. He wants to touch her again; splay his fingers across her skin and explore the remainder of her flesh.

'_If she'd returned your calls, maybe you'd be at that point by now, Mellark._'

"Hey," she replies, admonishing herself for immediately missing the feel of his hand. She blinks a few times and then turns to face him. He's obviously just gotten off from work; the flour that dusts his jeans reminding her of the day she ran into him in the middle of the sidewalk. "What are you... What are you doing here?"

'_Breathe, Katniss.'_

"I, umm, I stopped by your apartment and Prim pretty much insisted that I come with her."

He watches as she takes a deep breath and tries in vain not to let his eyes flicker down to watch the way that her chest strains against the dress's neckline. The heat that he feels rush to his face, however, is sure to give him away. When he looks back at her face, though, she's more transfixed on the way that his hand is now curled into a tight ball at his side. She straightens her back and glances up at him as he goes on.

"Can we talk?"

'_No. Run. Run as fast as you can. Put as much space between us as you can. Don't give me a chance to fuck everything up,'_ she thinks, but is already nodding her head.

"Yeah, sure. Just let me... Let me show this dress to Prim really quick."

She passes her body between his and the door of the fitting room that still stands open. Her arm brushes his and his stomach fills with warmth. He notes the way that her hair leaves the scent of honeysuckles in her wake.

The squeal that he hears seconds later coming from Prim over how beautiful her big sister looks brings a smile to his face. He watches as Katniss is marched back into the room, Prim's hands clasped onto her shoulders. Her little sister pushes her up to the platform in front of the mirrors and motions for Cinna to step forward.

"This is perfect!" Prim says, practically dancing in place with glee. "The color is amazing! The back goes with the back of my dress! And I don't even think you'd have to do any alterations..."

Prim goes on, but Peeta finds himself too wrapped up in her last sentence to continue following her words. She's right; no alterations are needed for this dress. His eyes skim over her bare back, following the curve of her spine down to admire how the article of clothing clings to her hips. It fits like a second skin, and he can't help the way that his mouth goes dry while looking at her.

When he drags his gaze back up, he immediately finds himself blushing when he sees that he's been caught staring. Katniss's grey eyes are fixed on him and despite the look of embarrassment on her face, she offers him a small smile. He feels just a little bit lighter seeing it; his nerves slightly calmed.

"You've got a little something," Marvel's voice comes from his left. He hadn't even noticed him there. The man grins at him, tapping at a spot on his own chin while simultaneously nodding to Peeta's. "Right there."

Peeta rolls his eyes and tries not to turn an even deeper shade of red. Marvel just laughs and claps the blond man on the shoulder. Cinna grabs for his husband's hand and leads him from the room a second later with Prim following along behind them.

Now that they've been left alone, Katniss turns to face him. His eyes roam her form once more and, as he takes her in, she finds it hard not to notice how his lips part slightly and his chest muscles strain against his t-shirt when he inhales.

He looks flustered for a split second when he realizes that he's been caught staring once again, but recovers quickly. Pushing himself off the wall he's been leaning against, he takes a step forward and speaks.

"Is everything okay?"

His voice is soft and Katniss blinks slowly, still trying to take in the fact that he's gone through this much already just to talk to her.

_'I really am a horrible person,'_ she thinks before answering.

"I'm sorry. I just... I'm sorry that I didn't answer, or call you back..."

"It's fine, really," he says, trying to help her. It's obvious that she's grasping at straws for what to say here.

She stands there for a moment, her teeth biting at the inside of her cheek, thinking of how most guys would just let her apologize. They would let her struggle for words and feel as uncomfortable as possible. Actually, most guys would have already written her off; forgotten all about her and moved on. She may not have known him very long, but she knows that Peeta Mellark is not like most guys.

"It's not fine, though. It's not fine, Peeta."

Her voice goes up an octave and she sounds almost distraught. He takes another step closer and has to stop himself from reaching for her. It's not the time; he knows this. He also knows that if anyone's going to make that move, it'll have to be her. He doesn't want to scare her off.

Rocking back on his heels, he runs a hand through his hair.

"I'm just sorry if it seemed like I was trying to come on too strong. I didn't mean to come off as -"

"No, that's not it. I'm just a mess when it comes to... _this stuff_," she replies, waving one hand in the air and refusing to meet his eyes. He wishes more than anything that she would look at him.

"This stuff?"

"You know... Have... having a good looking guy that I know for a fact is not an asshole ask me out. I'm... Yeah..."

_'Also not too good with words, are ya, Katniss?'_

"You think I'm a good looking guy?"

The corner of his mouth lifts up and she finally meets his eyes. That damned smirk makes her take a step in his direction before she can stop herself and a light, fluttering feeling assaults her stomach.

"Yes," she says pointedly before a small smile makes its way to her lips. "I also think that was a pretty cliche line that you just used."

"Served its purpose," he shrugs, laughing lightly. His next words slip out, and he's not even sure why he says them. "As long as you don't think I'm ugly, then I'll be fine. I'm no Greek fisherman, by any means, but..."

Her eyes widen and she steps forward instantly, putting a hand on each of his forearms. She's somehow managed to forget, through all of this, that the man in front of her has just recently found out he was cheated on. Granted, it wasn't a relationship that he had been happy in, or planned on continuing, but still. She has learned from Madge, and Johanna, and even from Marvel's tales of his single life before meeting Cinna, the effect that having someone you're loyal to betray you in that way can have. How it can leave a lasting impression on things like your confidence and feelings of self worth.

"Peeta, I-"

He cuts her off, and slides his arms out of her grasp. Before she can lower them fully, though, he takes her hands into his.

"Katniss, I was just kidding. Really, though... I just wanted to make sure that you were okay, and that I hadn't done anything to offend you."

_'Damn it. He is way too good for you,'_ she thinks.

"I'm fine, and you didn't. The thing is-"

"She's just a bit of an emotional cripple," Prim's voice cuts into the conversation, and Katniss spins around to shoot her baby sister a glare that could freeze a man's soul. The blonde woman just rolls her eyes and takes a small step into the room, saying what she came to before anyone can stop her. "Sorry to interrupt, but Cinna's got another appointment waiting and they're going to need the room. And _we're_ meeting Uncle Haymitch at East-West Bistro in twenty minutes."

She turns on her heel and exits, leaving them standing there, their hands still clasped together. Katniss tries to back away, but his grip tightens just enough to stop her, and she looks up at him.

"I guess I should go now, but... Katniss, is it..." He shakes his head a little and starts over. "Would it be too much, too _forward_ of me to ask again if you'd want to hang out sometime?"

_ 'Hang out? What are we, in high school?' _He thinks, hoping that she doesn't laugh in his face. She remains silent, and he starts to panic internally.

"Maybe go on a few _non_ dates?"

Peeta's thumb brushes along the outside of hers as he speaks, and she's starting to feel as if all of the nervous energy inside of her may cause her to burst into flame at any second.

"I think that would be safe," she replies after a beat as she disconnects their hands. If she doesn't stop touching him now, she's bound to do something stupid. She starts to retreat into the dressing room, ready to change back into her clothes so that she can maybe try to forget the way that his eyes roamed her body in this dress.

"Good," he smiles, trying to mask his disappointment at the loss of contact. "Are you working tomorrow?"

"Just 'til four."

"You can help me with soccer practice, then."

Katniss starts to protest, saying that she doesn't know the first thing about soccer. Peeta will have none of it, though. He assures her that she'll only be dealing with a bunch of ten year olds, and that she'll be fine. They'll love her, and it'll be much more fun than she thinks. _He'll_ make it fun. He says that if she does a good job, he might even treat her to frozen yogurt afterward. She rolls her eyes, but gives in anyway.

"So, it's not a date then," he says with a wink when he turns to leave.

"It's not a date," Katniss answers, lifting her hand in a wave as she closes the door.

_'You'll be fine,'_ she thinks to herself, leaning heavily on the wall behind her. _'It's not a date.'_

That's right. It's not a date... but she's going to shave her legs anyway. Just in case.


	10. Inferno

"Are you sure you've got the right address?"

Annie's hands are gripping the steering wheel tightly as she slows the car to a crawl. She shifts forward in her seat, leaning as close to the windshield as possible in order to check the upcoming street signs. The fact that she's such a cautious driver makes her one of the few people Katniss actually feels somewhat comfortable being in a car with.

Of course, it would help if the GPS hadn't decided to take them down a labyrinth of unmarked, backcountry roads. It had crapped out on them five minutes ago, and according to its screen, they were now driving somewhere that roads didn't even exist.

"He wrote it down himself..." She trails off, checking the back of the receipt in her hand once more.

Peeta's handwriting is impeccable; much more legible than her own messy scrawl. When she had watched his hand guide the pen over the thin, thermal paper, she'd found it hard to concentrate. Something about the way that his fingers curled loosely around the pen had made her breathing pick up just slightly. She had managed to get so caught up in thinking of how those fingers had felt gripping her hip underneath the waistband of her sleep shorts less than a week before and how their knuckles had trailed along her lower back in the dressing room of Cinna's shop.

When she finally realized he had been speaking to her, she'd looked up only to be distracted once more by the way he held the cap of the writing instrument in his teeth. The slight slur that it gave his words made her wonder if that's the way he would sound if he tried to speak with his lips on her. And, again, she had missed what he was saying completely.

_'Probably had something to do with how this place is hard as shit to find.'_

"Wait, I think that's it up ahead," Annie says as she puts on her blinker.

Sure enough, the sign marking the street is partially hidden by a tree branch, and completely turned sideways. The transition between paved and dirt road makes Katniss cringe a little. Annie just smiles sympathetically and tries to make the ride as smooth as possible.

"Thanks for coming," Katniss says, trying to pry her thoughts away from the vehicle's jostling. "Even if it is under duress."

The quiet, dark-haired woman in the driver seat just laughs softly, but never takes her eyes from the road

* * *

Peeta had almost convinced himself that she wasn't going to show. When Thresh had dropped Rue off for practice, he was almost tempted to ask the large, physically imposing man if he'd spoken to her recently. As much as he'd like to think otherwise, he certainly was not above using the 'has she mentioned me' line.

In fact, he was only seconds away from making his way over to do just that when the loud air brakes of the city bus caught his attention. He looked to his left just as it pulled away from the stop across the street from the practice field. She made her way over, careful to look both ways several times before crossing the road and he could have kicked himself.

_'You could have offered her a ride, dumbass.'_

Content with leaving the girls to continue their warm-ups, he jogged over to meet her with a smile on his face. She raised her hand in a small wave.

"Hey," he said as they reached the midway point. He turned to walk beside her as they traveled toward the field. "You made it."

No more than two seconds after the words are out, he wanted to kick himself yet again. He had told himself, while trying to fall asleep last night, that he wouldn't bring up the unreturned phone calls. He wouldn't mention how she had, essentially, stood him up. Even if he hadn't come right out and said it, he was scared that his words could be misinterpreted as some sort of passive aggressive jab.

He searched her face for any sign of resentment at his words, but thankfully found none.

"Of course," she replied, not having thought anything of the sentence. "I said that I would be."

_'Oh, God. Good job, Katniss. Just like said you would go out with him...'_

His face turned away from hers, tilted slightly to the ground, and he gave her an awkward smile. She felt like an absolute ass.

She stopped walking, and placed a hand on his forearm. When she opened her mouth to speak, he leaned in close, silently urging her to go on. It was hard to ignore his close proximity and she struggled to keep her eyes from fluttering closed. She hoped that her split-second pause went unnoticed, and met his gaze.

"Do you think that I'll be able to manage helping you today without sticking my foot in my mouth again?"

Her cheeks had turned pink as she spoke, and Peeta tried not to laugh (_too hard_) at the look of embarrassment on her face. After a second, one corner of her mouth lifted up and she nudged him in the side with her elbow. He feigned injury and then, feeling slightly emboldened, lifted an arm to wrap around her shoulders. When he pulled her close his side, his large hand encompassing her upper arm, she froze for a fraction of a second. It felt good, though; so undeniably nice. She let her arm slip from between their bodies and tried not to over think her actions as she placed her hand across the middle of his back.

When they'd broken apart so that she could place her bag down beside the players' bench and he could call all of the girls over, he let his hand slide across her back. His palm traveled down the length of her arm and he let their fingers tangle for a split second before he pulled away completely. She had tried to hide her smile, but seeing as his back was already to her, decided against it. It was still plastered across her face when he looked over his shoulder and winked at her almost a full thirty seconds later.

It hadn't taken him long to figure out that if he was actually going to get anything accomplished during their practice, he would need to physically separate himself from her. After nearly getting beamed in the head with the ball courtesy of a wayward kick, it became apparent that her close proximity wasn't helping. Of course, after he had shown her how to run a simple dribbling warm up for half of the team, it had been almost as hard for him to keep his eyes off of her.

Being naturally athletic, Katniss had taken easily to his instructions. He wasn't surprised that a woman in her mid-twenties was able to keep up with a group of ten year olds. What surprised him was the way she had instantly seemed to click with the girls she was helping. He watched as she smiled widely at something one of the players had said and couldn't help but picture a younger Katniss, doing the same sort of thing with her little sister.

He blinked and could just as easily see her doing the same with an even younger child; one with her long, dark hair and his blue eyes.

He could feel his cheeks burning at just the thought.

_'You should probably at least get her to go on a date with you before you start thinking like that, dumbass.'_

The distraction had only lead to another soccer ball to the head.

Peeta's loud cry of 'Ow', followed by the giggles that came from the half of the team that he had been working with, grabbed Katniss's attention. She turned her head in his direction and found herself locking eyes with him. The blush on his face, followed by the way that he rolled his eyes and made to rub at the side of his head, left her smiling.

He pointed a finger in the direction of whoever had kicked the ball, and pretended to threaten her. The boyish grin on his face made it impossible for him to seem even the slightest bit angry, though. The ball made its way back into play, but she was unable to drag her gaze away from how his thin, grey t-shirt clung to his back. That, in combination with the way the end of his curls had started to both flip up and cling to his neck with sweat, left her feeling flustered and suddenly much warmer than before.

"My uncle likes you."

The voice had come from behind her and she turned to look down at the sweet, still round with baby fat, face of McKynley Mellark. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a french braid and she had the same bluer than blue eyes as Peeta. Katniss wondered if all of the Mellark family had them. She wondered if maybe, one day, she would get to find out.

For a second, she wasn't sure which she was more shocked by - McKynley's statement or her own thoughts. The girl's smile just grew wider the longer that the woman in front of her was silent, however, and she grinned over at Rue.

"It's true, Katniss. He does."

"Well, that's good," she addressed the two girls; both of them looked up at her expectantly. "I like Peeta, too."

"No, you don't get it. My uncle _likes you _likes you."

_'I know,' _she thought as he caught her eye and gave her a small wave.

At the end of practice, after three failed attempts to call for all of the players' attention, she moved in to stand close to him. His eyes drifted closed before he could stop them, and that damned honeysuckle shampoo invaded his senses once more. When she'd reached her arm up over her shoulder and covered one of his ears with her hand, he had no idea what to expect. He wasn't sure he could think of anything beyond the way that her thumb lightly trailed over the sensitive skin just behind his ear.

Until the sharp, shrill sound of the whistle he had hanging around his neck rang out through the air.

Even with his one ear covered, he tensed slightly, and one of the hands that hung at his side immediately found the curve of her hip. His fingers lingered on the spot just above the waistline of her shorts and he could feel dip just beside her hipbone through the cotton of her t-shirt.

If they'd each been able to see inside the other's head, the image of them tangled together in her bed sheets Sunday morning would have been nearly identical.

When all of the players had either gone, or were in the process of packing their things into their parents' cars, he offered her a ride home. As she watched him load his niece's duffel bag into the back of his SUV and reach out to tug lightly on her braid, Katniss told herself that the raw, nagging feeling in her gut was just because she'd skipped lunch.

"You are such a dork, Uncle Peeta!"

"Whatever," he said as he grinned and winked over at Katniss. "You know I'm still your favorite uncle."

No matter how hard she tried to hide it, the grin on McKynley's face told them both that he was right. The car ride was quiet and should have only taken fifteen minutes, but Peeta drove so carefully that it tacked on an extra ten. Katniss wasn't sure whether it was for her benefit, or because he had his niece in the car. She gave his forearm a gentle squeeze as they pulled to a stop outside her building. He smiled over at her. A muffled laugh came from the backseat and he rolled his eyes at McKynley in the rearview mirror.

She had thanked him for the ride and said her goodbyes. She was almost to the door when Peeta felt a kick to the back of his seat. He turned with his eyebrows raised, and the ten year old in the backseat didn't even bat an eye before she lifted her hand to motion for him to get out of the car.

"Katniss!"

She turned, a smile having appeared on her face as soon as she heard his voice, and cocked her head to one side. He swore the only thing that could have made her more adorable in that moment was if she had been biting her lip. The blush that took over her face the longer that he stood there without saying anything made up for it, though.

"Yes?"

It didn't matter what he was going to ask her. The sight of him standing there, looking at her like she hung the moon, one hand running nervously through his hair, would have never allowed to her to deny him anything.

* * *

After she's spent the last ten minutes wishing her hardest for a cellphone signal, they see Peeta waiting at the end of the driveway when they finally pull in. Annie slows the car to a stop and he climbs into the backseat so they can continue on to the house.

"Good to see you again, Annie," Peeta says as he leans forward and places a hand on her shoulder. She smiles at him in the rearview and nods her head a little.

He catches Katniss's eye and she turns to face him. His smile is infectious and she doesn't even have to think before she returns it.

"I didn't think we were ever going to find this place."

He laughs and it's like all of her apprehension about coming in the first place melts away. Leaning forward, he reaches out to tug on the end of her braid. It somehow manages to not come off as a young boy pestering the girl that he has a crush on.

"Did you forget what I told you about the sign?" He teases her with that crooked smile she's gotten used to.

_'Yep. I was too busy remembering waking up with you in my bed to pay attention to what you were saying,'_ she thinks.

She just shrugs in response, and then looks back to the windshield. After a full minute of driving with the house still not in sight, her brow furrows. Turning to look at him once again, she narrows her eyes.

"You walked all the way to the end of the driveway to meet us?"

"Uh... Yeah." He pulls his phone from his pocket and waves it from side to side. "Reception's pretty shitty down by the lake and I just wanted to make sure you could reach me if you called. The house isn't much farther."

She doesn't mention that the reception is pretty shitty at the top of the driveway, as well as the five miles leading up to it. Surely he already knows this. She just settles back into her seat and bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

They reach the lake house, basically an oversized log cabin, and Peeta announces that pretty much everyone else is already down by the water. He shows them where they can get dressed and offers to wait around in order to escort them once they're ready.

"I'm sure we can manage, Peeta," Katniss rolls her eyes and he holds up his hands in a defensive manner. He laughs a little as he backs away.

Less than ten minutes later, the two women are making their way down the rocky slope that leads to the dock and sandy beach. Katniss is suddenly incredibly grateful for the way that Peeta had suggested she bring a friend along. There don't seem to be many people here, only a handful, really, but the only ones that she knows are Peeta and Finnick.

Johanna would have volunteered herself for the position if she didn't have to work. She had basically threatened to disown Annie if she didn't take her place by Katniss's side. The soft-spoken woman had pretended to have to think on the proposal, but any opportunity to be even near the lake was enough to get her to say yes.

Annie's one true love is the water. The first time that Katniss had accompanied her to her gym, she had been amazed at the finesse and grace her friend exhibited while crossing from one side of the pool to the other. If they existed, she was sure that the quiet, dark-haired woman beside her was at least half mermaid.

She's even wearing her swimsuit from her college swim team. Katniss can appreciate the way that she's not one to try and impress anyone with a skimpy bikini. Her own suit, while not quite as modest, is a simple, black two-piece that's more for functionality than showing anything off. Of course, when they make it down to the water, and the time comes for the two women to strip off their tank tops and shorts, the way that Peeta's eyes become glued to Katniss's form would have one think differently.

She can feel his eyes on her, but doesn't acknowledge it. She's already seen him in less than the olive green swim trunks that he's wearing, but she's sure that if she turns her head right now, there's no way she won't be caught staring.

Luckily, she's saved by an incredibly leery looking Finnick.

She braces herself and waits for an abrasive greeting, or a flirty _hello there_ to be thrown in Annie's direction. It doesn't come, though. Instead, she's surprised to hear a scoff escape his mouth and turns to look at him. He's staring at Annie, arms crossed over his heavily muscled and ridiculously tanned chest. One of his eyebrows is raised and the way that his mouth is curled up on one side comes close to making him unattractive. He nods down at the school crest over the left breast of her suit.

"Tech's swim team, huh?" His words come out clipped and Katniss and Peeta are both thrown at how rude he sounds.

Katniss waits for Annie to shy away from his words. She's so nonconfrontational that she'll probably try to laugh it off, or simply ignore his question. It's a shock when she stands up just a little bit taller, her shoulders pushed back, and looks him dead in the eye.

"State champions all four years that I was on the team. I'm going to assume you're not a fan."

Filled with a sudden understanding for Finnick's behavior, Peeta grabs Katniss's hand and pulls her to his side. She looks up at him, and then down at their intertwined fingers when he doesn't let go. He pretends not to notice the way that her eyes flicker down and drops her hand nonchalantly. It doesn't stop him from leaning in close, though. His breath tickles her ear and she shivers just the tiniest bit.

"Finn's college swim team lost their state championship title his last year there," he says in a low voice. "To Tech. He still hasn't gotten over it."

She glances back to where he and Annie are currently in what looks to be a quite heated debate and nods.

"Looks that way." She pauses to observe the man beside her while he's still busy watching their friends bicker. His shoulders, which she'd already gotten more than a glimpse of the other night, seem even more impressive with the sun hitting them. A light spray of freckles that she hadn't noticed before catches her attention, but she's somehow able to pull her mind back to the conversation at hand. "I'm not really surprised. Annie's like a damned fish in the water."

Peeta just chuckles and places a hand on her lower back, no longer able to resist the temptation. He wonders if he's imagining the way that she seems to lean into his touch.

He's not imagining it, but she hopes that he doesn't notice the way that her body responds to him.

"Come on. I'll introduce you to everyone."

Delly is beyond nice and, before long, she and Katniss are seated, side by side, in slightly sandy lounge chairs. The blonde's sunny disposition makes it easy for even Katniss to join in on the conversation. It's a good thing, really, because Annie's attention is dominated by Finnick as they each take turns trying to outdo the other in the water.

"I think that Finnick might be in love," Delly says in a stage whisper. She's already four whiskey sours in and each sentence that she's said so far has come out with a giggle. Thom's mother is keeping the baby tonight, though, so she says she's going to take advantage of her responsibility-free time.

Katniss watches while Finnick's eyes track the way that Annie's body cuts through the water with ease.

"Doesn't he fall in love every week, though?"

"Oh no, Delly's right." Peeta's voice comes from behind them and the women turn to see him making his way over. Thom walks beside him and they both are carrying two red Solo cups in their hands. Katniss notes that his is free of the scrawl that would identify it as belonging to 'Gimpy', and smirks. "This is the first time that I've ever seen him meet an attractive woman and not hit on her. Something's definitely up."

"Damn," she deadpans. "And here I thought that his love for me was pure and true."

"Nope," Delly declares a little too loud as she pushes herself up. She walks, a bit unsteady on her feet, over to her husband and grabs her cup from his hand while placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek. A little bit of her drink ends up dripping down the side of her arm. "Looks like you're stuck with Peet here!"

Katniss's face turns red almost as quickly as Thom starts to apologize for his wife. He wraps his arms around her middle and she let's out a little 'oops' as they start to walk toward the dock.

"She's, umm, she's never been able to hold her liquor." Peeta thrusts the cup in his hand out to her, and gives her an embarrassed smile. "Rum and Coke. That's what you were drinking at your friend's birthday thing, so I just went ahead..."

"Thanks," she nods as she takes it, immediately bringing the drink to her mouth.

She's not sure how much longer she can be around Peeta with the sun glinting off his shoulders and adorable blond curls while being so close to sober.

He just hopes that the shots he downed with Thom in the kitchen help him stop staring at her olive skin and wondering how it would feel underneath his lips.

_'Good God, Mellark.'_

"I think that I'm going to go hit the water. Want to make sure that Finn hasn't scared Annie off yet?"

Before she's even halfway through her nod, he's taken off running toward the dock. She follows at a slower pace and watches as he completely blindsides Finnick, tackling the taller man into the water. Not bothering to cover her laughter, she joins Annie at the end of the dock and watches as the two men surface a few yards out. Finnick immediately places both hands on top of Peeta's head and dunks him back under.

"Your boyfriend's friend is kind of an asshole."

She's so shocked to hear the woman beside her say a bad word about anyone that she doesn't bother to respond to the fact that she's called Peeta her boyfriend.

"He is hot, though. I'll give him that."

Katniss knows that Annie dates, but has never heard her mention specific boyfriends or exes. She's never seen firsthand what she's like when she's into someone, but something about the look on her friend's face says it all. She places her cup down on the picnic table that's set up on her right-hand side, and tries not to give in to the urge to tease her.

"You _like_ him."

Okay, so maybe she's still a little ticked at Annie for not sticking up for her with Johanna the other day.

A moment of silence stretches out between them and the corner of Annie's mouth finally lifts up in a slight smile. She places her small hand in the middle of Katniss's back and takes advantage of the way that her eyes are too busy following Peeta's movements in the water. One, surprisingly strong, push is all that it takes to shove Katniss into the lake. When she sputters to the surface a few seconds later, she gives the petite woman that's still on the dock a hard look. Annie's hands go to her hip and she rolls her eyes as she responds.

"So?"

Katniss just laughs and backstrokes farther away.

A couple of hours, three or four rum and Cokes, and one volleyball game later, she feels the need to finally let the back of her lounge chair down and just rest. It's been nice to have a day where she's not bogged down with work or needed for wedding planning. She'll do anything for her little sister, but the stress of her upcoming nuptials and having to deal with Effie Trinkett, wedding coordinator extraordinaire, is beginning to wear her thin.

Annie and Finnick had hit the water again, though this time on jet skis, and Delly has been passed out cold in her chair for the last twenty minutes. Thom came over to spray her down with sunscreen a few minutes ago and she hadn't even stirred. He's over by the grill with Peeta now.

She takes advantage of the safety her sunglasses bring and watches the way that the muscles in his back move underneath his skin as he throws his hands into the air. He seems to use his hands more to talk when he's buzzed and she's never found such a miniscule trait to be so damned adorable before. He continues the conversation as he flips the burgers, still using the long-handled spatula as an extension of his arm as he gestures to the air.

"Katniss, how'd you get sand all in your hair...?"

The lazy, drawn out words that fall from Delly's mouth disrupt the quiet that's settled over her and she feels her body tense. She waits for a second before turning to reply, letting her heart rate calm. She sneaks another glance at Peeta over her shoulder and lifts her drink to her lips to help with the fact that her throat seems to have gone dry.

_'Probably because you lost all your saliva drooling over him.'_

"Katniss?"

"What? Oh, yeah... Uhm, the sand, right," she sputters out. Bringing a hand up to run through her hair she discovers that Delly really wasn't kidding when she said it was all in there. She recalls the tumble she took during the volleyball game, and her face starts to heat. Falling flat on her ass only to have Peeta land in a heap on top of her hadn't been an easy thing to get off her mind in the first place.

Delly flops back down in her chair and waves a hand toward the house.

"There's a shower on the back deck you can use to get it out."

She stands and says thank you before slipping away and back up the walkway to the house. Even with the lake right in front of her, a cold shower sounds good right about now.

* * *

"Oh! Sorry!"

Peeta takes a step back and promptly runs right into a wheelbarrow filled with gardening tools that's leaning against the side of the outdoor shower. The entire thing is upended, sending a small collection of hand trowels, weeders, and pruning shears across the wet pavement. He somehow manages to avoid falling down as well, but is too slow to stop the rake that was previously leaning against the wall from making a racket as it clatters to the ground.

His eyes are glued to his feet, no matter how badly he wants to allow them to travel up the length of her body. He can't even look at her face, too afraid that he'll slip up and she'll catch him staring at her. When he swallows, it's so loud that he's sure she can hear it over the still running water.

"I, uhm... I didn't realize you were back here. Figured it was Finn," he says as he manages to lift his head. Of course, he's careful to face in the direction that he came. Not at her... at least not until she starts to laugh and it causes his resolve to slip. He just means for it to be a quick peek. He just wants to see her eyes crinkle at the sides and the way that her nose scrunches up. The way that the showerhead is still sending streams of water down over her shoulders and on... downward proves to be distracting, however.

_'God damn it.'_

"Were you looking forward to showering with Finnick?"

She's having a hard time holding back her grin. She's also having a hard time holding back just how much she likes the feeling of his eyes on her. The odd sense of confidence that his stare, complete with mouth that's hanging open just slightly, gives her is foreign, but not unwelcome. The fact that he's still only clad in his damp green swim trunks doesn't help, either.

He laughs at her words and she's pretty sure that both of their faces are red. They lock eyes for a split second and he instantly looks away again. When a handful of cool water splashes against his chest, it catches him off guard. His head hangs down, but he brings his gaze up; mouth open in mock surprise.

Shrugging her shoulders, she looks away. She clasps her hands behind her back while pretending to whistle and he struggles not to become fixated with the way that the movement pushes her breasts forward just slightly. It's much easier once she slowly turns her head back to face him and offers him a sly smile.

"It's not a real shower, you know. You can look at me when we're talking. Besides, I've seen you in less."

She's feeling almost sassy enough to wink. Katniss Everdeen never really feels sassy, though, so she doesn't.

"I know," he starts, rubbing at the back of his neck once he realizes that he has no pockets to stuff his hands into. "I just... I didn't want to..."

He's noticeably flustered and it has everything to do with those two little scraps of black fabric that she's wearing. Trying to swallow down his nerves, he tries to start over.

Something about the way that he's standing there, so wrapped up in his head and pink in the face, ties her stomach in an even tighter knot. The sunlight is slipping through the limbs of the pine trees that surround this side of the house and there's one beam that's falling directly over the top of his chest and shoulders. His torso is almost dry, but she can see the bits of sand from their earlier fall clinging to it in spots.

The sentence is out of her mouth before she gives it a second (or hell,_ first_) thought.

"Actually, the water pressure sucks. Can you help me get the sand out of my hair...? Since you _are_ the one that put most of it there."

_'What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing?'_

She doesn't have to ask him twice.

It only takes two long strides for him to reach her side. Once he's there, he has a good mind to be embarrassed once again by how quickly he's responded to her request, but figures he'll just have to ignore it in order to play it off.

_'She asked you to do this, Mellark. Calm down.'_

Even though the shower is only partially enclosed, the space is clearly meant for only one person to occupy it at a time. Katniss turns her body sideways in order to make enough room for them to share the spray from the showerhead. No longer facing him makes it just the tiniest bit easier for her to breathe. When she feels him place a hesitant hand on her shoulder, she almost melts into his touch.

"You're right. The, uh, the water pressure here has always sucked."

She turns her shoulder slightly so that she can see him over it and finds most of her upper body pressed against his chest. The hand that's been lightly resting just beyond the crook of her neck slides down and his fingers loosely curl around her arm. Her face starts to warm just at the simple contact and she tries to cover it up by ducking her head directly underneath the spray.

He can't help himself. When she raises her arm to push the hair from her face, he slips his hand along the underside of it; stopping at the elbow, and then making his way back up. She doesn't say anything, but he can see that she's holding her breath and feel the Goosebumps that appear on her skin.

"Sorry," he starts to apologize, but she places a hand over his and says that it's okay.

She cranes her neck to the side again and he watches as she tries to rinse the sand from underneath the bikini strings knotted at the base of her neck. The way that she pulls the fabric away from her skin and runs her fingers underneath makes him think that perhaps being in such a confined space with her isn't the best idea. He breathes in deeply in a useless attempt to calm himself down.

"You don't have to help if you don't want to, I just thought..."

Her sentence trails off as soon as she feels his fingers thread themselves into her hair. Even though she's still facing away from him, it no longer makes it any easier to breathe. Her scalp tingles and the gentle pulls that his movements elicit feel so impossibly good. A sharp intake of breath escapes her lips, and she's so mortified that her attempt to cover it up is almost just as embarrassing.

"You should really work in a salon."

_'God damn it, Katniss. You're a moron. A fucking moron.' _

His fingers stop moving and he lets out a laugh that's more of a strangled exhale than anything else. He had almost missed her sentence completely. It was easy to get caught up in the feel of her hair slipping in between his fingers and watching the rise and fall of her shoulders when he tugged at the strands in a certain way. He thinks that it might be information that will prove useful later on... and then feels like a tool for not only getting ahead of himself, but being a little sleazy as well.

"A salon, _really?_"

She's flustered and her hands come up to gesture at absolutely nothing as she tries to voice an explanation. Turning to face him, it suddenly becomes very apparent to her just how close they really are and just how little clothing either of them is wearing. He still has a lock of her hair between his finger tips, and is holding it out barely an inch from her skin. As she looks down at his hand, the only thing that she can hear is the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears.

Peeta follows her eyes and lets go of her hair. He pulls his hand away, but not before he brushes his thumb slowly over her collarbone. It's a bold move, but then again, this whole scenario that they've gotten themselves into is just that. There's less than half a foot of space between them and when she looks up at him, he can see that there are tiny flecks of green in her eyes. Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip and he almost gives up then.

Reaching up to swipe at a sandy patch on the left side of his chest, she breaks eye contact.

"You're really good at that." She motions to her hair with her free hand and wishes that she could convince her mouth not to run ahead of her mind. "You know when you go to get your hair cut and it always feels better when they wash your hair... I'm going to shut up now."

She tries to laugh at herself, but Peeta's silence stops her. When she peers back up at him, an intense burning feeling ignites deep in her belly. His eyes are downcast, making it hard to tell whether he's focused on her chest, or the hand on his own. He's pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and she swallows hard as her fingers twitch slightly against their spot just above his heart.

Katniss has always laughed at the way writers and storytellers and hell, even Jo on one occasion, will note the way that someone's eyes _darken with desire_. When he looks up at her, though, that's the only way that she can think to describe what she sees. Suddenly, the notion doesn't seem the least bit ridiculous. Nope. There is nothing silly about the way that Peeta Mellark is looking at her right now.

But it does scare her.

"You, uh... You had some sand," she says, thankful that her voice, though sounding a little strangled, doesn't shake. Spotting another patch over his shoulder, she runs her hand over it, helping the water wash it away.

_'Stop touching him. Are you even allowed to touch him like this?' _She thinks, but gets distracted by the water that's running down the muscles that cover his chest and stomach.

Maybe if he didn't have those damned v-shaped indentions along the lines of his hips it would be easier for her to pull her hand away. It would be easier for her not to want to run her fingers down the length of his body. She doesn't even realize that she's started to drag her nails across the skin of his back until he lets out a low hiss. She jerks her hand back to her own body, pressing her palm flat against her chest. He follows it with his eyes and then they flicker back up to meet hers.

And there's that look again.

_'Shit. Shit. Calm down,' _he thinks.

It's never been this hard for him to control himself around a woman before. He's never had anyone else have quite the same effect. He has to get himself out of this situation before he does something he's going to regret. He doesn't want to screw this up.

He lets his gaze flicker back down to her hand, its heel nestled in the valley between her breasts. The water from the shower is running in streams down over her shoulder and there's one current from a thick section of her hair that's falling over her splayed fingers. He can't stop watching the water as it pools against the exposed skin between her fingers and then rolls back over the top them.

Katniss tries not to feel overwhelmed when he meets her eyes and then glances down to her mouth. She also tries not to feel disappointed when he blinks several times and backs away to increase the distance between their bodies.

"Thanks," he says a little too loud. It makes him cringe internally, and he takes another step back; toward the shower's opening. "I think that I got all of the sand out, so yeah... I'll leave you to it."

Katniss can feel her heart hammering against her palm as she nods at him. She smiles a little, hoping that she doesn't come across as being too let down. Watching the muscles in his back as he starts to walk away, she tries to remind herself that this is for the best. He should stay away. This is what she wanted.

_'Want. This is what you _want_. Not wanted.' _

When he turns to exit the shower completely, the light filtering through the trees catches his eyelashes. She gets so caught up in their light golden color and just how long they are that it takes a second for her to become aware that he's facing her again.

Peeta takes a deep breath and she watches as his chest expands; all the while wondering why she keeps lying to herself.

He stops and turns his entire body back in her direction. There's a dazed look on her face and his hands clench at his sides for a split second before he makes up his mind.

"Fuck it."

He doesn't know if the words are out loud or only in his head.

He doesn't care.

He can barely breathe as he brings his body back to where she stands, still looking at him with her mouth just barely hanging open. Peeta hardly gives her time to blink before his hands come up to cradle each side of her face and he swiftly brings his mouth down to meet hers. The feeling of her arms snaking their way around his waist registers somewhere in the back of his mind, but it's the feeling of her lips that he's been wondering about since the first day he saw her that is front and center. That's the feeling that he's concentrating on right now.

If she's surprised by his actions (and she is), she certainly doesn't show it. There's not even a fraction of a second's hesitation before she responds to his kiss. Peeta's lips slanting over hers turns the burning from earlier into an outright inferno and she suddenly can't seem to get close enough. Her fingers almost claw at his back in order to bring him flush against her body and the cool water that pools between them feels good against her flushed skin. He sucks her bottom lip into his mouth and the action swallows the sound of her contented sigh.

He doesn't worry if he's being too forward when he pushes her back up against the wall. His hands drift down from her cheeks and one curls around the back of her neck, pulling softly at the roots of her hair. She tilts her chin up to allow for better access and he almost growls at the sensation of her tongue brushing against his lower lip.

If he were in his right frame of mind, he would wonder where that growl came from. He's not, though. His mind is completely occupied with the woman in front of him. He's almost positive that maybe this is the only frame of mind that he ever wants to be in again.

She brings a hand up to run along his jaw. Following its strong line upward, she traces the shell of his ear with her fingertip and her eyes almost fly open at the way that his hips are suddenly pinning her to the wall. The way that it makes her feel causes her to melt a little instead, and she's not sure she'd have the strength to open her eyes anyway.

When they finally pull away, his forehead pressed to the wall behind her head, he looks down at her. They're both breathing heavily and she still has one arm holding his torso tightly to her. Her chest bumps against his ribs as she tries to steady her heartbeat. When the tiny beads of water that fall from his eyelashes splash down on her cheeks and he brings a thumb up to brush them away, she knows that it's no use.

She's in big trouble. They both are.


	11. Next Bold Move

He knows that he must look like a real dope right now. He can't stop staring at her, though. And when he stares at her, he can't stop smiling. Then she smiles back, and he doesn't care what he looks like to others.

He's perfectly content with everyone else thinking that maybe he's just a little bit simple.

The way that Katniss is leaning on her elbows against the pick-up counter, though, completely unaware of the way that she's chewing at her bottom lip makes it impossible for his face to remain passive. She looks up at him through her dark lashes, the uncertainty still clear on her face, and leans forward just a little bit more. He swallows hard at the way that her chest expands when she finally sighs in defeat. He's beginning to wonder if she wore that shirt on purpose, and is thankful for both his apron and the counter that stands between them.

_'Jesus Christ, Peeta. You're not in high school anymore. Get a grip on it,' _he thinks, just seconds before his traitorous mind provides him with a mental picture of the woman in front of him doing just that. _'Shit. Not helping.'_

"Fine," she huffs, and he's glad for something else to focus on other than her chest and the physical effect she has on him. "I'll try it, but I still say that there's no way that this is going to top the buffalo pastrami."

He laughs, and she fixes him with a pointed look. He's almost as endeared by her scowl as he is her smile, to be honest. He's not sure if he's overstepping some sort of unspoken boundary, but he can't stop himself from laying his palm over hers on the counter as he replies.

"Just trust me."

_'Please,' _he silently tacks on.

He hopes that she can't feel the way that his pulse seems to pick up speed when she looks him directly in the eye. Her hand twitches slightly, and he lifts his just high enough for her to retract it if she wants to. She turns it over, instead, and threads her fingers with his for the briefest of moments before pulling away.

"I'll try."

_'Promise,' _she adds to herself.

It's an odd situation that she's found herself in with this man. Caught in between wanting to keep him at arm's-length while simultaneously craving his touch and the feel of his lips on her skin isn't something that she's prepared herself for. She had honestly thought that they were going to be able to pull off this whole 'just friends' thing.

Sure, she'd readied herself for moments of weakness - Moments when his smile was just a little too irresistible, or when his blond curls would beg for her fingers to run themselves through them. She could handle that, though. She could easily remind herself that someone as wonderful and kind as Peeta Mellark didn't need someone like her in his life to ruin it.

But then he'd gone and kissed her.

And, by God, she's never been kissed like that before. Even a week later, she swears that she can still feel the way that he had drawn her bottom lip into his mouth. The way that his hips had pressed her into the wall.

_'The earth-shattering orgasm that you gave yourself later that night when you thought back on all of that,'_ she thinks, and hopes that her face isn't turning pink.

At the time, she wasn't sure whether she should curse Delly, or thank her when she'd tripped on her way up the steps of the porch. Stuck in a staring contest that was really only going to end one way, she'd felt both deflated and relieved at the inebriated woman's cries of_ 'Oh shit, oh shit! My ankle!'_. Peeta, being the undeniably nice guy that he is, had let out of a shaky exhale, his lips curling into a suddenly shy smile, and gone to make sure his friend hadn't broken anything important.

By the time the injured woman had gotten patched up, Katniss had emerged from one of the downstairs bedrooms, fully dressed and completely unable to make eye contact with the man who'd had his tongue in her mouth less than half an hour before. It wasn't until they'd gathered on the deck outside for dinner that she could even bring herself to look at him. He'd sidled up to her, their calves brushing underneath the table, and bumped his shoulder into hers.

He'd smiled down at her, though and she would've been lying if she denied the surprise she felt when she found herself smiling back.

Peeta didn't try anything else that night, or any night since. The small, sharp intake of breath he had taken when she'd rocked up onto her toes to kiss his cheek before climbing into the passenger seat of Annie's car a week ago is something that she still thinks about every time that they say goodbye, though.

If it hadn't been for the way that his fingers had gripped at the roots of her hair and the growl that he'd let out (and she's subsequently replayed numerous times in her head) before they had broken apart, she would probably be wondering if she was a shitty kisser. After all, it had literally been years between kisses on her end. So now, every time that they part ways, her pressing her lips to his cheek, and he looks at her with a gaze so intense it starts a fire in her belly, she wonders what he's waiting for.

She tries to curb her want; knows that it would be better for the both of them if she were able to. She can't help but wonder, though.

"Well, well. Miss Everdeen, fancy seeing you here."

Finnick slides up to the counter next to where Peeta stands, still in the process of securing the apron ties around his waist. Sighing theatrically, he mimics his friend's posture and leans forward on his elbows, then cocks his head to one side, resting it on the blond's shoulder.

"Hi, Finn," she says, biting back a smile at the way Finnick's hair seems to be tickling Peeta's nose. Watching the skin along its bridge crinkle as he reaches up to swipe it away tugs at something in her stomach that she has to concentrate hard to ignore. The memory of her own hair doing the exact same thing the morning that they woke up together refuses to leave her, though.

"So... Your friend, Annie," Finn starts, and then subsequently trails off. He actually looks a little unsure of himself, so she finishes his sentence for him.

"Is too good for you."

"Oh, but you haven't even seen me at my best!" He laughs, and leans farther over the counter, closing the distance between their faces. "If you'd like, I can show you."

Leaning forward just slightly, she sees Peeta tense out of the corner of her eye. Careful not to crush the bag containing her lunch, she gets as close to Finnick's ear as possible without touching it, and lets out a low _'hmm' _sound.

"No, thanks." She abruptly drops herself back onto her feet and winks at him. She turns to face Peeta, whose crooked grin is currently making an appearance. "I'll see you at the game tomorrow. Now, though, I've got to go see a man about... a man. Well, first I've got to meet Rory about a limo, but yeah... then, seeing a man about a man."

_'Note to self: Work harder to make her blush,'_ Peeta thinks to himself as he watches her cheeks turn a rosy pink color.

Finnick is looking at them funny, so he decides to volunteer the information so that she doesn't have to.

"Katniss is in the process of planning her little sister's bachelorette party," he explains, watching his best friend's eyes light up with what can only be a bad idea.

"You know, I've been told that I have some pretty impressive moves myself. And I wouldn't charge nearly as much as a professional, so-"

Peeta rolls his eyes at the same time that Katniss lets out a short laugh, followed by another _'no, thanks'_. He can feel his cheeks actually starting to hurt from smiling so much, but when she glances back over at him, he ceases to feel anything other than the pull she seems to have over him. He watches as she places her hands back on the counter, pushing up onto her tiptoes to lean across it. If he could think straight, he might be able to muster up some embarrassment at the way that his heart seems to sputter inside his chest and how he automatically leans forward.

"I'll see you at the game tomorrow, Peeta," she says again.

He can smell her shampoo as she leans closer. He knows that Finnick will inevitably give him shit for the way that his eyes actually drift to a close at the feeling of her slightly chapped lips against his cheek. He can deal with that. He's pretty sure that he can deal with anything as long as this woman in front of him doesn't start to pull away. And he had been terrified that's what she was going to do after he'd kissed her at the lake the other day.

_'And you're still so terrified that you don't have the balls to do it again.'_

He notices how her lips are just a fraction of an inch closer to his own than they were the last time that she kissed him goodbye, and it eases his mind the tiniest bit. His smile is bright when he pulls away, picking up the bag between them to place securely in her hands.

"See you tomorrow."

* * *

Katniss eyes him from across the yellow, laminate table. She's still not sure that she buys the story he'd spun about Rory having something come up at the last minute, but figures that it's her own damn fault that she said yes to actually talking to him after paying the deposit for the limo.

She hasn't seen Gale since the night of Prim's engagement party, or really spoken to him since their fight at the bar. Right now, he's spinning his empty coffee mug in his hands. When he'd asked if she wanted anything, she had wordlessly lifted the cup that she'd brought from the deli, and he'd given a nod. An almost full plate of steak fries sits in the space between them, even after she had insisted that she wasn't hungry. (She'd eaten her sandwich on the bus across town to the rental place, and Peeta had been right. The Bacon Turkey Bravo_ is _much better than her previous favorite.)

The steak fries are a peace offering. She realizes this, thinking back to the nights years ago where the only thing that could really end a disagreement between her and the man in front of her had been some kind of comfort food.

She watches as their waitress comes over to ask if she can refill his coffee. As he declines the offer and asks for water instead, the woman looks relieved and snatches the still spinning mug off the table. He has the common decency to look bashful at the way his nervous tick has obviously been annoying most of the restaurant.

He goes to pluck another fry from the plate, but retracts his hand at the last second.

"Look, Catnip... I, I'm sorry about what I said at the bar that night, and I'm sorry for stringing Madge along, or whatever it was that I was doing," he says while looking anywhere but at her face and running a hand through his dark hair. It seems longer than it had been at the engagement party, and reminds her of how he wore it back when they were together. The thought pulls at something in her chest, and she starts to pick at a thread that's unraveling from the strap of her bag that sits in her lap. "I was being an ass. And, well... I shouldn't continue to bring up something that happened years ago every time we have an argument."

She sits there for a minute, still spinning the brown thread between her thumb and index finger, unsure of just how to respond. When she finally glances up, the look of apprehension on his face is clear and she wonders just how long the man that she's considered to be her best friend for years has felt nervous just to talk to her. Lord knows that she hasn't been one to hold back her thoughts from him for quite some time.

"That sounds rehearsed as hell, Hawthorne."

It starts with just one corner of his mouth lifting just slightly, but the other side follows shortly after. She can't remember the last time that she actually made him smile. And there's no denying that it makes her feel good.

"Yeah, well, Prim might have lectured me a couple of times on the subject."

Her eyebrows shoot up and he lifts his hand in her direction, as if he's thinking about laying it on her forearm. He drops it after a second of hesitation, though, and wipes his palm on the front of his jeans.

"Just because she had to give me a nudge doesn't make it any less true, though."

She's almost cut off the circulation to her index finger now; the thread wrapped tight enough to turn the skin underneath purple. Finally unraveling it, she opens her mouth to speak.

"Gale, why do you still talk to me? I mean, why... Why put up with me after what I put you through?"

"Aw, shit, Catnip." Gale leans forward; resting his elbows on the table in front of him and closes his eyes for a moment.

"No, I really want to know. I was so horrible, and I..., and Gale... Gale, I basically ruined you."

Katniss isn't sure what to expect really, but the laugh that escapes Gale Hawthorne's mouth is close to the last thing she saw coming.

"First of all, you didn't ruin me. Second of all, it would say a lot more about me than it would about you if you had."

"But -," she starts, and then stops when he looks up to meet her eyes.

"I'm not going to lie and say that it didn't hurt like a son of a bitch. It did, and sometimes... Sometimes, it still does. But, even if I don't act like it all of the time, I'm a big boy and more than capable of moving on." He sighs and looks like he could use something to do with his hands. She slides her coffee cup across the table, and watches as he lifts it to his lips. It's quick, but there's a flicker of something in his eyes as he reads the name of the deli off the label that had been obscured by her hand earlier. "I guess I just always kind of thought that it would be us. Even after... everything. And I held onto that thought for a while. I really did, but I got over it... even if I never really got over you. But that's not your fault."

She opens her mouth to speak, but he cuts her off again.

"I guess it was always supposed to be Prim and Rory, though."

He's taken the words straight from her mouth, and she's relieved that she hasn't been the one to say them. The wounded look in his eyes is one that she's been the cause of enough as it is.

She doesn't know what else to say. There's so much that could be said, and even more that probably needs to be said between the pair, but reaching this understanding, as inconclusive as it might be, is something that she's more than happy to take.

"Just... Just apologize to Madge, okay? Or at least stop leading her on if you're not actually interested, you big jerk," she says, trying to lighten the mood before she grabs her coffee cup from his hands. Lifting it to her lips, she's relieved to see another small smile on his face.

He drops his gaze back to the table and she thinks that maybe she's mistaken. That maybe her attempt at a joke has missed its target after all, but then he mumbles something to himself. Something about having bigger fish to fry. She cocks her head to one side, completely confused.

"So," he looks up and quickly changes the subject by flicking his index finger against the cup in her hand. "What's up with this?"

"Gale... Don't," she warns. She's barely ready to admit to herself anything about the way Peeta Mellark makes her feel, and she's certainly not ready to talk to the man that she dumped a week before their wedding about it.

"Rory says he has a girlfriend."

_"Had _a girlfriend," she mutters, just before popping one of the greasy fries into her mouth.

* * *

He's not quite sure what he's ever done to deserve a mother like the one that he has. He loves her, of course. She is his mother after all, and he's sure that she loves him as well... in her own way, but...

_'This has really got to stop,' _he thinks as he watches his entire family making their way to a spot on the bleachers.

His father pulls out three stadium seats, placing them in the stands before offering one to his daughter-in-law, another to his wife, and the last to _Glimmer_. The look on his father's face when he meets his son's gaze is apologetic, but Peeta can hardly concentrate on that. Instead, he focuses on his mother, wrapped up in a warm looking fleece blanket as she nudges the younger woman's side and points to her son out on the field. The smile that takes over the Mellark matriarch's face makes him grit his teeth.

He's grateful that they're late. The game is just starting, so at least he'll be able to avoid having to speak to any of them until half-time. Unfortunately, Katniss won't be arriving until then, either. He grins to himself, thinking of the text that she had sent him not half an hour ago. He decides that he doesn't care if it's lame that thinking of the little winky face at the end of her message makes him feel better than he has all day.

Of course, he snaps out of his thoughts just in time to see that Glimmer has misinterpreted his smile. Her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth and her eyes have become hooded and intense.

_'Shit.'_

The weather has taken a sudden turn for the cooler over the last two days. He tries to focus on that, on something trivial, as he watches his team take the field. A couple of his players have already made the transition to wearing long-sleeved thermals underneath their jerseys, and it makes it hard for him to believe that it was only a week ago that he was at the lake with Katniss. Only a week ago that he kissed her...

"Hey, Coach."

Hoping that the fact that he was thinking about being pressed against a half-naked woman in a shower stall isn't evident, he looks over to where Rue sits a few feet away. He nods his head and she scoots along the bench until she's right beside him. She tries, in a way that only a ten year-old truly can, to be sneaky as she glances over her shoulder at the bleachers. If he wasn't attempting to avoid looking in that very direction, he would no doubt be trying not to laugh over her transparency. Instead, all he can do is hope that the little girl's actions have gone unnoticed.

"Where's Katniss?" Rue's voice cuts through his thoughts.

"She'll be here at half-time," he answers, looking up to see that there are twenty-eight long minutes still left in the first half.

"Good," she nods her approval.

Thankfully, the clock seems to speed up once the action does. The team that they're playing, coached by a fairly intense looking man named Brutus, seems to have a pretty good grip on the game. They know how to handle themselves on the field, and he gets pretty caught up in the process of switching up players and explaining strategy and tactics to the girls on the bench.

He's so caught up, in fact, that he misses the bus arriving five minutes ahead of schedule.

Katniss slides onto the bleachers next to Thresh and nudges his side. He smiles over at her, and fills her in on the fact that the 'score' is currently tied, 1-1, when she asks. She scans the girls currently playing, spotting McKynley making her way across the field. Peeta's niece is nowhere near the goal, but her passing skills are pretty impressive and she makes a mental note to tell her so later.

"Peeta really is fantastic at working with the girls," a female voice from a couple of rows down catches her attention.

Another pipes in just as the buzzer signaling their half-time break rings out, causing Katniss to seek out its source.

"He's definite father material. Just look at how he dotes on McKynley."

There are three blonde heads all in a line, and she watches as the woman speaking lifts her hand out to where Peeta is currently mussing his niece's hair. She starts to get up to go say hi, but when the ladies down front stand, the sight of the leggy one on the end, completely decked out in winter gear, makes her hesitate. Even if she's only seen her once, there's no mistaking Peeta's ex-girlfriend.

She's frozen, unable to move from her spot, as Glimmer makes her way over to the field, a woman that _has_ to be his mother, following along behind her. Thresh has moved from beside her, going to stand next to his little sister. Katniss is pretty sure the chill that she feels is more than just the lack of his body heat next to her and the fact that she left her jacket at work, though. The women get closer and she watches as Peeta offers up a smile that doesn't seem to quite reach his eyes.

_'Or you're at least hoping that it doesn't,' _she thinks as she glances from Glimmer's curve-hugging sweater and equally clingy leggings, down to the god awful, neon green work shirt she's wearing, and her jeans that are practically worn through in spots.

She observes the group of people gathering around the players' bench, quickly able to discern the fact that nearly the entire Mellark family is at today's game. There's an older man, obviously Peeta's father, who even has the same stance as his youngest son – feet shoulder-width apart, hands tucked into his front pockets. It's almost comical how alike they all look, really. A sea of blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin.

She swallows hard at the realization of how perfectly Glimmer seems to fit into the equation. Even if it is obvious how hard Peeta is currently working to ignore the way that she keeps trying to break into the conversation he's having with his father.

"Katniss!"

Looking up to see Rue waving her over from a spot not five feet shy of the Mellark family, Katniss lifts a hand, then hesitantly goes to stand. She lets out an _'oof'_ as the girl's arms wrap around her waist, much like they had when she'd shown up at their first game of the season

"You're just in time to see me go in for the second half!"

"Hey, Rue," she says, smiling down at her. "You should've known that I wouldn't miss it. Even if I did have to cover for your big brother at work this morning."

"Hey, now," Thresh speaks up from beside her, nudging her side with his elbow.

She glances over to where Peeta stands. He extricates his arm from the tight hold that Glimmer has on it, not even looking at the blonde woman while doing so, and begins to move in Katniss' direction. His niece beats him to the punch, however.

"Yeah, but you did miss _me_ out there," McKynley says with what could possibly be the most fake pout that Katniss has ever seen.

"Oh, I don't know... I definitely didn't miss that awesome pass that you made to Carmen out there a few minutes ago."

Peeta grins as his niece actually blushes at Katniss' words. He watches the smile that the woman in front of him gives so easily to the two girls gathered around her, as well as the small wave she directs toward the players standing nearby. He also sees the way that she crosses her arms over her chest immediately afterwards, noticing the goose bumps that they're covered in. Removing his hoodie, he steps forward.

"Here, take this," he says, placing it in her arms. She smiles at him and murmurs her thanks, and he knows that he's got that look on his face again. That dopey, stupid grin that makes it painfully obvious just how much he likes this girl. He stands beside her as she slips the article of clothing on over her head, not even thinking as he reaches behind her to pull her hair out from underneath the collar.

When she goes rigid as he lays a hand on her lower back, he instantly realizes the source of her discomfort. The very obvious clearing of a throat from behind them causes him to tense up as well. Mrs. Mellark's severe gaze rests on the spot where his arm disappears behind Katniss. He wishes that there was a way that he could immediately apologize for his mother's blatant rudeness, but has to hope that the circles his fingers are tracing over her back are as reassuring as he means for them to be.

"Son, why don't you introduce us," his father steps forward, extending a hand to Katniss.

"Sorry," he starts, momentarily thrown by the number of faces looking back at him. "Everyone this is my..."

_'Shit,'_ he thinks, cutting himself short.

"Katniss. I'm Katniss," she takes over, her own thoughts a bit scrambled at the moment.

His father takes her hand with both of his own, smiling widely at her. When the older Mellark lets go, he meets Peeta's eyes over her shoulder and lifts his eyebrows in a silent question. Thinking back to the conversation the two men had with Finnick in the deli not all that long ago, he shrugs just slightly. He feels good at the moment, with Katniss standing beside him, not pulling away from his touch, and the nod that his father gives him only leaves him feeling even better.

"So, Kat... Katniss, was it?" His mother's voice manages to deflate his mood just a bit. "Do you have a daughter on the team, or...?"

"Oh, ummm... No. No, ma'am," she starts, leaning back into Peeta's touch. He's not sure if it's an unconscious move on her part, or not. He lets his palm slide across the soft fabric of the sweatshirt, his fingers coming to a rest as they curl gently around her side.

"Katniss is kind of like an assistant coach," McKynley chimes in. "She's been helping out at practices and stuff."

"Oh, so you play?"

He can feel the way that her ribcage expands with a deep, nervous inhale. Leif is only trying to help ease the conversation along, but also seems to be blissfully unaware of the underlying tension being caused by their mother and his little brother's ex-girlfriend.

"No," she says, letting out a short laugh. "Not at all... But I work at a sporting goods store, and Peeta's been teaching me."

"A sporting goods store? How... _nice_," Glimmer offers in a manner that's anything but sincere.

_ 'Listen, bitch, I could go island hopping in the Mediterranean just as easily as you did...'_

Peeta's touch helps her to resist taking the bait. No matter how badly she'd like to get into a bitch fit with the woman in front of her, she knows that she's above it. Or she at least _should_ be.

"Speaking of coaching," Peeta says, hooking a hand through Katniss' elbow. "I should probably get to that. I'll catch up with you guys after the game?"

He raises a brow, and sighs internally as his family members begin to disperse. When Katniss goes to follow, he gives her arm a gentle squeeze.

"You'll stay, right? I mean, now that you're an unofficial assistant coach, and all..."

The smile that he hits her with is another one that would be able to get to her do just about anything that he asks of her, and she can only nod.

The rest of the game passes in a blur. He's somehow able to focus his attention on more than just the woman beside him, and she's surprised when her thoughts are more on the field than on the two women in the stands that hold an obvious dislike for her. Watching Peeta's face as he goes into detail, explaining just what makes the man on the other side of the field such an impressive coach, takes her mind off everything else.

Well, almost everything. The tight, thermal Henley that he wears is pretty distracting.

After the game is over, he insists that she join him in shaking the other team's hands in the middle of the field. He likes the way that she looks in his clothes, and allows his gaze to linger just a little lower, past the hem of the hoodie, as she walks back to his team's bench.

As players start to make their departures, he says his goodbyes and reminds everyone of their next practice. He hopes it isn't too obvious that he's switched their normally scheduled days to ensure that the brunette standing next to him will be able to attend. He's not above conning her into spending more time with him using her newly decreed title of his assistant.

"You know, if you actually want me to help you out more at practices, you're going to have to show me some more moves," she says. Wiggling her fingers out in front of her, she continues. "You know, so I can be more hands on."

'_Damn it, Katniss. Do you just jazz hands him?' _She thinks, admonishing herself for her poor choice of words.

His eyes do that thing again, though. Where they seem suddenly darker – stormy even – and he takes a step closer. She watches the lines of his throat as he swallows.

"You can't use your hands in soccer, Katniss. You know that, but I'm sure we can work something out."

His voice is quiet and he knows that this has to be the worst, most awkward attempt at flirting ever. There's the threat of embarrassment lying in wait, somewhere low in his stomach, but the way that her pupils are suddenly dilated causes the feeling to recede. She takes a step closer and opens her mouth.

"I—,"

"Peeta!"

Glimmer hurries over, placing a hand on Peeta's arm as she squeezes her body to where she's effectively cutting off the view he has of Katniss.

'_What the hell,'_ she thinks, taking a step back and wrapping her arms tight across her stomach. She wonders which romantic comedy this girl has stepped out of, as she observes the way that the blonde drops one hip and lowers her voice to what she's pretty sure is supposed to be a purr_. 'A freak'n _purr_.' _

"So everyone is going out to dinner. I can't wait to catch up." She pauses, throwing a glance over her shoulder to where Katniss stands. Tossing a dismissive hand up, she looks back to the man in front of her. "Whenever you're done with _this_, of course."

"Uh... Yeah. I – I'll be over there in a minute," he stammers, too put off by the whole situation to come up with any other reply. Glimmer squeezes his arm, a little too tightly, and turns to go.

The words come out before she even has time to think of them.

"I heard there's a really good Greek place that's just opened down the street. If you're into that sort of thing."

The taller woman stills for just a moment before continuing to walk away. It's just enough to know that her words have served their purpose, though, and Katniss can't help the way that one corner of her mouth pulls up. Her eyes are trained on the blonde, and the way that her hands curl into fists at her sides, until she reaches the spot where the Mellarks have gathered.

Suddenly scared that she's overstepped some sort of line, she turns to face Peeta again. The look on his face is familiar, though, its intensity so reminiscent of their time together only a week ago that she swears she can almost feel the spray of the shower head.

"Wow..." He trails off, moving closer to where she stands. "That was..."

"Too far, I know. Especially since she's obviously still close with your moth—,"

He interrupts her before she can go any farther, thinking that maybe his next words are going to be too daunting, but deciding just to go for it.

"I was going to say incredibly sexy."

Her words, and worries, die in her throat when she meets his eyes.

She lies to herself - tells herself that she has no idea why she's doing it. He's right in front of her, though... and his family, along with that idiot girl who actually thought that she could do better than him, is still in the parking lot. Still within eyesight as they tell McKynley what a good job she did and discuss what restaurant to go to.

She can feel Glimmer's cold, hard stare on her back. It serves as a reminder that she does know why she's doing this. She's actually_ jealous_. The feeling is foreign, but she knows that's precisely what it is when it's so easy for her to replay the way that her stomach rolled at the sight of the blonde woman's hand wrapped around Peeta's forearm. Jealousy... Jealousy is the reason that she's leaning closer,_ farther _into the man in front of her.

_'Well, part of the reason.'_

The nearer that his face draws, admitting that she actually wants this gets easier and easier.

Her fingers lock loosely around his forearms, close to the crook of his elbow. She can feel the slightest tremble running through his limbs, and it makes her heart beat hopelessly out of time. His eyes flit down to her neck, and she's almost positive that he can see the thrum of her pulse pounding there. She's certainly able to feel it. She lets a hand drop as he lifts his own, brushing it over the side of her throat. The tips of his fingers are cool and feel good as he tangles them into the fine, shorter hairs that have come loose from the confines of its braid.

He pauses, and she knows that he's waiting for her. Not for her permission, but for her to make the next bold move. Brushing the hair back from his face, she allows her hand to linger. Her palm carefully cups his jaw; thumb tracing over a faint scar that she noticed only a few days ago.

It's not until her elbow folds back against her chest that she's aware of the way that she's pulled herself into his body. His hand, the one not currently cradling the back of her head, moves down to rest on her hip, and her chest tightens as she draws in each suddenly shortened breath. Looking up to meet his eyes, she feels his fingers flex just above the waistband of her jeans. His thumb slides across the slant of her hipbone and comes to rest over the sensitive patch of skin along the dip there.

Peeta's face lowers close to her own, and she can feel his exhalations, ragged, as they fall across her lips.

"Katniss," he starts, not making a move to close the distance between them. "You know that if you kiss me right now, I don't think that I'm going to be able to hold back from here on out. Fair warning."

He barely hears the mumbled declaration of_ 'noted'_ before her lips press against his.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I suck, I know. I'm sorry for the wait for this chapter, and hope that this will tide you over until I can write the _next_ one - i.e., the one that I realllllly want to get to. Regardless of my awful update frequency, I want to say thank you to everyone that's taken the time to read, review, favorite, or put this story on their alerts list. It really means a lot. :)


	12. Whenever It Feels Right

"So...," Johanna starts, using the tip of her index finger to swipe the remaining salt off the rim of her already drained margarita. "Tomorrow's the big one. Are you going to, you know, succumb to the customary third date rule?"

Katniss feels her mouth drop open at the same time that she hears Madge snort from her spot across the table. She feels her face heat and picks up her discarded straw wrapper to twist around her finger. Taking a deep breath, she looks Johanna right in the eye as she replies.

"Number one - Is that even a real thing? Because I'm pretty sure that it only exists in movies and tv shows. Number two - I find it a little odd that you've been keeping up with the number of dates that Peeta and I have been on. Especially when even_ I'm _confused as to what is and isn't considered to be a real date. Number three," she pauses, letting a little smirk creep its way onto her lips as an unexpected sense of confidence comes over her. "How do you know we haven't done it already?"

Jo practically throws her head back with laughter, which only manages to tick Katniss off. She'd been pretty proud of her quick response to her friend's question, but as usual, she's left feeling like maybe she's missing something.

"Fuck if I know whether or not it's a real thing, brainless." She lifts her glass toward the waiter across the room, making Katniss cringe with the less than refined action. "I just wanted a nice segue into talking about you getting Blondie naked."

The server, who's managed to make his way over to refill their water glasses and clear away the empty containers of chips and queso mid-sentence, raises an eyebrow. Jo lifts a palm toward him as if to say_ 'see, he knows what's up'_, and gets her other swatted when she tries to reach for Annie's drink.

"Just wait for the next pitcher," Annie says, her voice no closer to threatening than usual, even when Johanna refuses to heed her words.

"And how do I know that you haven't done it yet, Katniss?" She arches an eyebrow. "Because it's always the nice, gentlemanly, mild-mannered ones that leave you walking funny for days. And you, miss, have been walking around just fine."

She can feel her cheeks slowly start to heat, but isn't sure whether it's out of embarrassment or the possibility behind her friend's words.

"Oh, leave her alone, Johanna," Madge speaks up, rolling her eyes.

The pixie-haired brunette looks slightly more than annoyed at the request, and Katniss watches as the hand her co-worker has placed on the table momentarily balls into a tight fist. It's not unusual for the two women to trade snarky comments, but the fact that this is the first time Katniss has actually been in the same room with both of them at the same time in close to six months makes her pause for a second. If she weren't so caught up in her thoughts of whether or not Peeta Mellark would, in fact, be making her walk funny any time soon, she'd probably pay more attention to the fact.

_'Really, though? Is that even a thing...' _she thinks to herself. _'Fuck. Has it really been so long that I don't even know whether something's a _thing_, or not?'_

"Besides, it's really more of a three date _minimum_ kind of deal, if you ask me."

She's can't decide whether she should thank Madge for basically reading her mind, or crawl underneath the table and hide until the conversation is over.

"Heh. Of course," Johanna snorts.

Madge lifts an eyebrow, and rolls her eyes as she purposely takes the bait.

"Not everyone has the _'why does it even have to be a date' _rule."

Jo's head cocks to one side and Katniss watches as she pokes at the inside of her bottom lip with her tongue. It's never been a sign of anything good (the last time served as the prelude to a jerk at a bar leaving with a black eye), and she locks eyes with Annie. Ever the peacemaker, the quiet woman speaks up, placing her hand over Johanna's as she does so in order to redirect her friend's attention.

"Well, I think that it should be whenever it feels right," she says with a shrug, and then continues as if it's the most mundane topic in the world. "I mean, I had sex with Finnick on the first date."

The simultaneous sounds of Katniss' choking, Madge's fork hitting her plate, and Johanna's laughter ring out over their previously quiet corner of the restaurant.

"Shit," Johanna says between chuckles. "When was this?"

"Yeah," Katniss speaks up, wondering how exactly she's missed this particular development. "When did this happen? Why didn't you say anything?"

"I just didn't think any of you would care..." She trails off, with the good sense to at least look a little sheepish about it now that everyone's staring at her.

"Are you kidding?" Johanna leans forward onto her elbows, gesturing around the table. "None of us are getting laid at the moment, Annie. We have to live vicariously through someone."

* * *

"Where are you taking Katniss tomorrow night?"

Peeta tears his eyes away from the television to look over at where Finnick's taking up about 95% of the space on his sofa. He watches as his friend digs deeper into the noisy, plastic bag and pops the last remaining crumbles of Peeta's favorite pretzels into his mouth. Shaking his head, he turns back his attention back to Cupcake Wars, briefly wondering if maybe he should introduce more sweets to the deli's menu.

He'd ask for Finn's opinion but the rate that his friend goes through anything sugary is really the answer that he needs.

"That little place on the corner of Merchant and Seam Avenue. Sae's."

Finnick lets out a sigh and Peeta can see him stretch his legs out even farther over the couch cushions.

"Man, there is nothing better than when you're at that point in a relationship where it's nothing but food and fucking."

"Christ, Finn," he lets out as he reaches for the remote, set on turning the volume up.

"What? You know that it's true..." He trails off for a minute before sitting up suddenly, swinging his feet down to the floor. The pretzel bag falls off his lap and lands near his feet, but he makes no move to pick it up. "Wait. You two haven't...?"

Peeta's not really sure why his best friend is so surprised. He's spent years poking fun at the 'snail's pace' in which the blond man seems to move things along with women. He pushes himself up from the chair and walks to the kitchen to grab something to drink. Mostly so that he doesn't have to look at the other man's face when he responds, but also due to the way that even thinking about having sex with Katniss leaves him suddenly parched.

"No, we haven't. I don't want to push her. Katniss... She's skiddish. I want her to feel comfortable with things and I'm perfectly happy to let things progress at whatever speed she wants to set."

He doesn't mention that he'd spend months alone just kissing her. Even if the action does lead to thoughts of just what else she can do with that talented mouth of hers. He's so lost in his musings that he finds his way back into the living room, drink in hand, before he even realizes it. Finnick is crouched in front of the entertainment center, popping a disc into the 360. He tosses a controller onto the arm of Peeta's chair and settles back into his own seat before speaking up.

"Yeah, uh huh. Perfectly happy..." Finn gestures toward the hallway as the start menu pops up. "I'm guessing that's why both the bathroom and your bedroom are fucking spotless?"

"My place is always clean, Finn," he replies, going through the motions of selecting his character and the game stage. And it is. Not everyone can live with empty snack containers littering their floor.

"There's a scented candle on your sink, dude."

_'And in the bedroom,' _he thinks, but doesn't share with the other man.

"Which means," Finnick continues as he leans forward, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "That even if though you're going along at her pace that you've still been thinking however many steps ahead. Steps ahead meaning into the bedroom, of course. For sex."

Peeta rolls his eyes and chooses to ignore his friend's words.

"There's a pipe bomb over in this corner if you want it," he offers instead, turning his attention to their game. Or at least _trying _to.

He wonders what trying to stay as prepared as possible says about him - if he's crossing some unseen line of trust by just assuming that it's going to happen. And so soon? Should he feel guilty for being as eager as he is?

He tries to focus on Finnick's words, but can only listen to him go on about how important sex is in a healthy relationship for so long. He's picked up on the way the bronze-haired man's voice has managed to stress the word 'relationship' at least three times now, and knows that's his cue.

"So, Finnick," he says, voice as monotone as he can possibly make it. "How are things going with Annie?"

"Oh, God, Peet..."

* * *

She's always made fun of couples who insist on sitting beside each other at restaurants. The idea of not being able to even eat a meal without the need to be next to the person you're with just seemed silly to her. It still seems silly, and she tells Peeta this when she spots a couple doing just that a few booths down.

"I don't know," he starts, reaching out to play with her fingers before sliding his in between them. The fact that he's freely allowed to do this now has made holding her hand (along with leaning down to kiss her hello, or goodbye, or breathless for no reason) one of his favorite things to do. "I think it's kind of sweet... But what you're telling me is that I'd better stay on my side of the table?"

She shrugs and grins over at him.

"Something like that."

_'Besides, I like looking at you way too much,' _she thinks, admiring the way that the restaurant's low-hanging pendant light fixtures highlight the planes of his face.

She swirls her thumb in a circle over his knuckle and can't decide whether she hates or loves the way that her cheeks feels like they could start to spasm at any moment from smiling so much.

"What if we're in a restaurant that has televisions, though. And _what if_ there's something really good on? Do I have your permission to share your side of the booth then?"

She laughs at the look of mock sincerity on his face. She starts to answer, but he doesn't give her the opportunity.

"Have I told you how pretty you look tonight?"

"You did," she says with a grin.

And he had. As soon as she'd opened the door to her apartment, the words had tumbled out of his mouth before she could even say hello.

"Well then, did I tell you how beautiful you are when you laugh?"

One of the easiest things to learn about Katniss Everdeen (mainly because it doesn't involve her having to open up in any way, shape, or form) is just how incapable of taking a compliment she is. She gets all flustered and her forehead crinkles up just slightly while her mouth opens and closes at a loss for words.

Peeta isn't sure if this is because she honestly doesn't believe the praise that she's receiving, or because she hasn't been given enough of it over the years. His theory is that it's just a little bit of both. He plans to do his best to rectify this situation, though.

She tries to respond, an undetermined syllable already making its way from her mouth, when their food arrives. While their plates are being placed on the table, he raises his eyes to her and smirks.

"I'm sorry. What were you about to say? Something along the lines of 'thank you', right?"

Katniss looks up at the server, who is silently gathering their used bread dishes, and then purses her lips at Peeta. She tries to place a soft kick to his shin since she can't think of any other response, but he must somehow sense it coming because he traps her foot between his legs, and lifts an eyebrow at her. She leaves her foot dangling there, caught between the muscles of his calves, as they're asked if there's anything else that they need. Her voice is still stuck in her throat, so she just shakes her head 'no' in reply.

The heat that's coming off his body is a welcome change from the cool air in the restaurant. It feels good surrounding her ankle, and she tries not to let the way that she can feel his calf muscles shifting underneath the dark denim effect her.

She fails.

Maybe it's the thoughts that still linger from her conversation with the girls last night, or just the way that he keeps smirking at her like that. But the air between them feels even more electrically charged than usual, and she can't get the thought of how he might look between her thighs out of her head. She takes a long sip of her sweet tea and closes her eyes, trying to calm herself by focusing on the sensation of the cool liquid making its way down her throat.

It works until she opens her eyes again and sees the way that he's looking at her.

Peeta smiles distractedly at the woman that's brought their food as she leaves their table, but never takes his eyes from the one in front of him. He can't deny that he's spent most of the day, and at least half of the night before, thinking of his talk with Finn. A part of him wishes that their chat had ended after his friend had gone on about Annie for damn near half an hour instead of allowing Finnick to steer the topic back to just what exactly he and Katniss are waiting on. That's an entirely different part than the one that's presently enjoying the way that her ankle is rolling back and forth between his legs, however.

It's not even a particularly sexy action, but it's more than enough to get him thinking of what other parts of her body would feel like rolling against his.

The food is delicious, but neither of them really notice it. Instead (in between conversation revolving around work, and friends, and a certain little sister's wedding), they each take note of_ other _things. She notices things like the way that his fingers skim the skin just behind his ear when he goes to rub at the back of his neck and how the tip of his tongue peeks out lick his lower lip after each bite he takes. He notices the lacy, black bra strap peeking out from the over-sized neck of her dress, and how her fingertips curl underneath the tiniest bit at the first taste of her tiramisu.

When he asks if she wants to just hang out as his place afterward, she answers with a 'yes' so quickly that he jokes about not even having to use the allure of his classic Swayze DVD collection.

The rain that's falling as they exit the restaurant is expected. It's been overcast and the forecast nothing but gloomy for the last few days. Her anxiety at having to be in a car while the weather is so nasty is even anticipated. She won't let him hold her hand, though, insisting that both of them should stay on the wheel, so he tries his best to distract her with conversation. It's hard when she places her hand on his thigh and he finds himself distracted instead.

The lack of an umbrella in his car, along with the jerk that's stolen his parking space, however, is not expected.

He tries his best to shield her from the rain as they cross the parking lot, removing his pullover to hold above her head. Of course, he doesn't account for the wind, and she laughs at the sheepish smile he gives her when they finally reach the lobby of his apartment building. He's absolutely soaked, and she isn't much better off - the dark patches on her dress mirror those that cover his t-shirt and jeans.

They're in the elevator when he pulls her close and places a kiss to her temple, mumbling out an apology.

"For what?" She asks, using her hand to push the damp hair from his eyes. He leans into her touch without really meaning to and she grins before pulling his face down to the same level as hers. He follows the line of her movements without a second thought, his lips landing over her mouth as he runs a hand down her arm. When they finally pull away, the elevator has reached his floor and they've somehow managed to navigate their way to his door. Her shoulders are pressed to the wall behind her and he has the fabric of her dress that covers her hip bunched into one hand.

"Going to tell me what you're sorry for?" She asks, a little breathless as she runs a hand over her hair.

"That you're all wet."

_'Oh my fucking god...'_ he thinks, casting his eyes up at the ceiling and exhaling slowly through his nose. _'If anyone is listening right now, just let the ground open up and swallow me whole.'_

She tries not to laugh. She really, truly does. Even his ears are turning pink, though, making it harder and harder to resist. He finally looks down at her when the snort she's attempting to hold in refuses to be contained any longer and she fixes him with the best pointed glare that she can.

"Well," she starts, nodding her head toward the door. "Are you going to let me into your apartment? I am all wet, after all."

She fails to keep her amusement hidden on the last couple of words and subsequently buries her face into his chest as her shoulders begin to shake. A few seconds pass before she feels Peeta's own laughter, rumbling deep in the spot against her cheek. He pinches her side a moment later and she looks up at him with a flushed cheeks and a grin on her face. His face is still red, but he just shakes his head and turns his key in the lock.

"God damn it, you're cute," he says, throwing his sodden, useless as an umbrella shirt over the arm of his couch.

_'You're not so bad yourself,'_ she thinks, admiring the curve of his back as he places one hand to wall so he can kick off his shoes. The rapid heartbeat from their kiss is something that not even a laughing fit has managed to get rid of, and she starts to wonder if this is the kind of thing that Annie meant when she said she'd know when the time was right. If the growing heat that she feels between her thighs at the sight of him bent over to place his discarded shoes against the wall is any indication, she would say so.

"Come on," he waves his hand for her to follow him. "I'll get you something to change into."

She follows him into his bedroom. She's only seen it once before - weeks ago when she had stopped over during one of their not entirely necessary meetings to work out the menu of Prim's engagement party, but it's just as neat as she remembers it being. Toeing off her flats, she watches him stoop down to grab something from his dresser drawer.

She thinks back to the night when their positions were reversed. When it was her, rifling through her clothes, and him waiting on the other side of the room as she tried to find something for him to wear. She thinks of the way that her mouth had gone dry at the sight of him, standing there in nothing but his underwear, his hair still dripping.

Her arms are slipping out of the sleeves of her dress and it's falling over her hips and to the floor before she knows it.

_'Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,'_ she thinks, over and over as she waits for him to turn back to her. Her chest rises and falls rapidly in anticipation.

"I think these'll fit you without fallin-"

_'Oh, fuck.' _ He drops the flannel pants back into their drawer and stands up slowly. He's shocked that he can stand at all - considering that his heart has stopped, lodged somewhere in his throat.

Her eyes don't leave his as he comes closer, and when he swallows hard, she thinks that he looks almost as nervous as she feels.

"This feels familiar." He smiles when he says it, his voice quiet.

"Umm... Well, I... I just thought that, you know," her hands flounders around in the air beside her nearly naked hip and he takes it in his own.

"What was it that you said to me that night? Something along the lines of _'Shut up and get in the bed'_?"

Her posture slips into something infinitely more comfortable as her muscles relax. His hands comes out to push her hair behind her shoulder and she smiles at the feeling of his thumb drawing a line over her collar bone.

"Yeah, I think it was something like that."

His mouth is on hers again for before she can blink and she's tearing at his clothes just a second after that. His pants hit the ground around the same time that their bodies fall onto the bed.

Time seems to slow down then, as if they've both just realized the position that they've put themselves into. He pulls her to him, rolling over onto his side, his large form hovering just slightly over where she lies flat on her back. He kisses his way from her mouth down to her jaw then - studying, memorizing every hitch of her breath and each sigh she releases.

Lifting his lips just slightly from her flushed skin, he skims his nose down the column of her throat. The lingering scent of her soap - a light, sweet, vanilla - combined with the honeysuckle shampoo that the rain managed to unleash invades his senses as he stops to place a kiss to the spot where her neck and shoulder meet.

_'Screw the scented candles,' _he thinks, gently drawing the skin into his mouth and feeling her body as it tenses and then melts back down into the mattress.

The hand that's not tracing haphazard, lazy circles on his back sits, fingertips curled under and almost clawing at the skin below her collar bone. He takes his own and covers hers with it, gently unfurling her fingers and bringing her palm to his mouth. He drops a kiss to the center and lays it back flat just above the swell of her breast. Unable to resist, he lets his lips follow and leaves a trail of kisses over her chest, tracing the line of her bra, back to her curve of her shoulder.

When he looks up, using his nose to nudge the bra strap down until it falls slack over her upper arm, her eyes are clouded and almost as stormy as the sky outside. He tries his best to keep his gaze locked on hers, but when he lets a warm breath fall over her exposed nipple, her mouth goes slack and she shuts her eyes tightly. Leaning up, he pulls her bottom lip into his mouth just long enough for her to arch her body up into his. He takes the opportunity to undo the clasp of her bra. Once she's extricated her arms and dropped the garment over the side of the bed, he holds her even tighter - bringing her torso flush against his own and getting lost in the sensation of her skin against his before returning her back to the sheets.

He shifts so that his hips are trapped between her thighs, and leans just far enough away to drink in the sight before him. His eyes dart to Katniss' face, and she bites at the inside of her lip as she watches him. Her breathing is ragged from just what little they've done so far, and he's suddenly filled with the need to see exactly how out of breath he can make her.

He couldn't speak right now if he wanted to.

She doesn't say a word because they're all caught in her throat.

But the breathy sigh that she releases when he drags his lips back down to where they left off says everything that he wants to hear. When she balls the sheet beside her in a fist as his mouth closes over the peak of her breast, it's just an added bonus.

She's trying desperately to keep her eyes on him - to keep them roaming over his strong shoulders, on the silky curls that are still damp from the rain, or focused on the way that his eyelashes flutter against her skin - but it's difficult when each move that he makes, every flick of his tongue, leaves her pushing her head a little bit farther back into the pillow. She watches him the best she can, though. Watches as he uses one, large palm to frame the side of her breast, his thumb coming up to pass over her hardened nipple right before he takes it into his mouth again.

The jolt of heat that she feels goes straight to the space between her legs, and makes her release a sound that she would normally be embarrassed by. The corners of his mouth tug up the slightest bit, though, and the vibrations of the low hum that he lets out in response has her forgetting all hints of her inhibition. He leaves hot, wet kisses over her sternum and moves to treat the other side of her chest with the same attention. She releases her hold on the soft cotton she's lying on and brings a hand up to shakily run through his hair. Burying her fingers into the blond strands at the nape of his neck, she tugs lightly and the grip of the hand he has on her hip tightens. His thumb traces over the dip beside her hipbone, and she remembers the look he'd given her just before their kiss on the soccer field a few weeks ago.

She wants to see that look again.

She's only seconds away from saying his name, if only she could get her damn mouth to work (if only he wasn't so damn good with his), when he lifts his eyes to meet her gaze. It's not until his mouth is descending on hers once again that she realizes she's had her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. He sucks her upper lip into his mouth and his tongue grazes the underside of it. If he wasn't nestled between them already, she's sure her thighs would be clenched together as tightly as possible.

He nips gently at her mouth as he pulls away, and his voice is low when he speaks.

"If you keep looking at me like that, I'm not going to be able to stop kissing you," he begins, illustrating his words with another slant of his lips over hers. "And, as much as I enjoy kissing you..."

His words trail off, along with his lips as he slowly drags them farther down her body. He lingers in the valley between her breasts, his nose sweeping the soft skin there as he lets his fingers roam. He feels her legs, almost desperate for something to cling to, wrap around his hips and it takes all of his resolve to flatten his palms over her thighs and press them back into the mattress.

There's no time for her to question his actions because he doesn't give it to her.

His limbs are shaking, and he's sure that she can feel the tremors running through them from where her hands are currently gripping his shoulders. She doesn't say anything, though, because it's obvious from the accelerated rise and fall of her stomach when he passes over it with the tip of his tongue that they're both on the same page.

His descent is slow. It gives him time to not only appreciate the sight of her uncovered skin, but to reassure himself (with each shiver and sigh that his movements elicit) that this is really happening.

Anticipation is buzzing, like electricity running through her veins, as he reaches the waistband of her simple, black panties. His chin rests just below where the fabric begins, and as he releases the grip he has on her hips - letting his fingertips dip underneath the scalloped hem that her legs emerge from, following the lines her hipbones, and over the curve of her ass. Her hips jerk at his actions and he smiles up at her before crooking an elbow to lay his forearm over her stomach.

Her hand surprises him when it closes around his wrist.

"Don't," she says, shaking her head. "It's harder for me to see you that way."

Her voice is higher than normal - more breathy and uneven - and the sound of it goes straight to his groin. Tilting his head down, he keeps his gaze locked onto hers as his mouth passes over the front of her panties. He inches lower and lower, grazing the tip of his nose across the damp patch of fabric there. Following the lines of her body downward, he lets his chin touch the bed before he opens his mouth, hovering just above the smooth, stretchy material that does little to hide the contours of what lies beneath. He holds back from what he really wants to do - from exploring the area with his fingers, tongue, and teeth. Her eyes are screwed shut again, despite her protests of him blocking her view, but he'll wait.

She can feel his breath, hot and muggy, directly over the spot that's aching more than she ever really thought possible. It's been a long time, yes, but she can't recall ever experiencing this kind of anticipation before. She wonders if he can feel her pulse from where his hands are placed on her thighs because it's practically pounding right now. The tightening deep in her stomach, a combination of nerves and arousal, has taken over and it takes a second for her to realize that aside from the steady stream of warm breath, Peeta isn't moving.

There's barely a split second between Katniss opening her eyes and Peeta's tongue flattening over the outline of her folds through her panties.

_'Fuck.' _

The thought is simultaneous. Her at the sensation of his tongue on her and him at the way her eyes darken and momentarily lose their focus.

Once he's licked his way up, he peers up at her as he places an open mouth kiss over her covered sex. He then allows his top teeth to drag lightly over the thin fabric before bringing his lips back to a close for a brief second. Continuing with a series of varied licks, he can see (and _hear_, and _feel_) her breathing pick up speed as his fingers creep up to push the now soaked cloth to one side. His index finger brushes over her clit and the noise that she makes sounds, to him, like Heaven.

Katniss is almost positive that her skin is the only thing holding her together at the moment, and that without it, she would surely fall apart. Her body feels boneless as she looks down at the man in front of her with heavily lidded eyes.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thinks of how she has to remember to thank Prim for talking her into shaving. Then Peeta uses his fingers to spread her, dipping one inside, but soon replacing it with his tongue, and any coherent thought she has flies out the window.

It's only moments later, her hands buried in his hair and his lips latched around her clit, that her legs are shaking and he can feel the way that her walls pulse around his fingers. She feels like all of the air has left her body, but is relatively quiet as she comes. Her hold on his hair loosens and he almost laughs at the way her legs falls slack - one over his shoulder and the other off to one side.

He sits up, kissing her calf as he pulls away and looks up at her. There's a lazy smile creeping its way across her face and he grins at the way that she can barely lift her arms to beckon him to her.

"You're going to have to come to me because I don't think I can move right now," she lets out with an uneven laugh; her voice still raspy and low.

_'That's fine,' _he thinks. _'Pretty sure that I'm happy with you laying in my bed, half-naked, and spent forever.'_

He laughs and crawls over her, taking the spot beside her. Her eyes sweep his bare torso and down to where his erection currently strains against the fabric of his boxer-briefs, and she's suddenly filled with a renewed sense of urgency.

She tries not to think of how long it's been since she's found herself in a situation like this. About how long it's been since she's swung her leg over a man's hip the way that she is now, or how much time has passed since she last pushed her body as deliciously close to someone else's as she currently is to Peeta's.

She can taste herself when she kisses him and the noise he makes when she sucks the tip of his tongue into her makes mouth the coil in her stomach start to tighten all over again. His hips buck up against hers and, feeling bold, she slips an arm down between their bodies to cup her hand over him. She tightens her grip and runs her palm up and down his length several times, gasping when she reaches the thick elastic band at the top only to have her fingers ghost over the head that peeks out there.

"Shit," he mutters, barely breaking their kiss as he takes hold of the side of her panties and pushes them down her legs. She follows his lead, having to use her foot to remove his underwear once she's gotten them to his knees. It tangles their limbs together, but she supposes that's really the point of it all once he's pressed against her, sliding across the slick surface of her arousal. She holds him closer, hooking her foot behind his knee, and attacks the skin just behind his ear with her tongue and teeth.

"Peeta," she says, and it comes out sounding almost like a whine. If that's whining, though, he could listen to her do so for the rest of his life.

He doesn't ask her if she wants to slow down, or if she's sure. Instead, he reaches over her, opening the drawer of his nightstand to fumble around for one of the shiny, foil packets that he knows is there somewhere. It takes three, four tries before he successfully produces one, Katniss' lips proving to be a distraction that he's more than happy to endure.

Rolling the condom on, he drops a kiss to the corner of her mouth and rests his forehead on hers. He wants to savor this moment - wants to memorize the rise and fall of her chest as it brushes his and the way that her mouth puckers just slightly with every move he makes against her. She must have the same idea, he determines as she refuses to speak or break eye contact while snaking her hand down to take hold of him.

She's sure that the certainty she feels has little to do with herself and everything to do with the man in front of her. Just like with that look in his eyes just before their first kiss, she's terrified, but she can't pull away. She's unable to - frozen, but by want instead of fear... She doesn't want to retreat. She _wants_ this.

Shifting her hips, Katniss is unaware of how she holds her breath as he guides himself into her. Peeta is pretty sure that he'll never forget the gentle exhale that sweeps over his face when she lets it out, though.

It's difficult for either of them to concentrate on anything once their movements sync together. They start off slow, building a rhythm that blissfully allows them each to feel every sensation the other has to offer (tight and wet, versus smooth and rigid), but she surprises him when her motions become more intense. Raising her leg and forcing him deeper, she buries her face between his neck and the pillow - clinging to his torso as she sucks at the skin just above his collarbone.

The sensation of his stubble, scratching her shoulder, and her hair, tickling his nose, matches up perfectly with the tightness they both feel growing stronger deep down inside. The muscles in her stomach clench and her legs stiffen around his waist just a moment before he follows with his own release. The feeling of her walls clenching around him still evident as he comes.

Later, after the rain has died down, Katniss moves to the window, opening it to allow the cool night breeze to flow into the still-muggy room. Peeta smiles at her from where he stands, remembering a conversation they had about odd sleeping habits. He's correct in his assumption that this is her, inviting herself back into his bed and asking to stay.

It's the best night of sleep either has had in quite some time.


	13. Girlfriend

**Author's Note: **First off, let me apologize for being a big, dumb, bag of crap and not updating this story in so long. It's been months, I know. I'm sorry. Needless to say, if you've stuck by this story, I appreciate it more than you'll ever know. That being said, I also understand if you have to go back and reread to remind yourself of exactly what's been going on. Thank you guys again for all of the follows, favorites, and reviews. They mean the world.

Also - In case you missed it, I did post an outtake from this story back in February, called 'Fair Warning'. The outtake takes place place immediately after chapter 11, and chronicles Katniss and Peeta's 'first date'.

* * *

_'Damn it,'_he thinks as he misses the keyhole for the fourth, or maybe it's the fifth, time in a row.

Not that he wants her to remove her lips from his neck, but he certainly does want to get the door to this apartment open so that he can enjoy the feeling with her stretched out underneath him. Or over him. Or beside him. Or... well, anyway that she wants, really.

She must have had more to drink at his parents' house than he thought. Normally she's not so assertive - perfectly willing to let him initiate and take control. It's a role that he doesn't mind in the least because she's allowing him to do these things, and he knows that's hard enough for her as it is.

She stands on her tiptoes, fingers sliding the collar of his shirt to the side, and nips at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. His hand pushes forward as the key finally slides into place.

"Oh, thank God," he mutters, practically falling through the door with her wrapped tightly around him.

She laughs as her heel gets caught up in his pants leg and leans down to pluck it from her foot. Pushing a little on his chest, she maneuvers him into and across the living room. He watches as she tosses her shoe off to the side, pushing on his chest again until he's falling backward into the overstuffed chair beside the couch. The other high heel lands on the carpet with a soft thud a second later and he momentarily mourns the loss of being able to worship the length of her legs in those black peep-toes.

'_For such a tiny thing, she has the longest fucking legs.'_

She has one eyebrow raised when she looks up at him again, though, and he forgets about everything else. Other than the sway of her hips as she approaches the chair that is...

"I don't think that your mother likes me very much," she breathes, pulling a knee over his lap to settle against the outside of his thigh. Her hair tickles his face as she leans in close, worrying the line of his jaw with lips, tongue, and teeth.

"My mother doesn't like anyone."

His hands ghost over her thighs before tightening around her hips as she rocks into him. The long, shaky exhale that he releases is cut short by the kiss that she presses to his lips.

"She seems to like your ex-girlfriend just fine..."

"Ugh." He wants to tell her to stop worrying so much about what his materialistic, tyrant of a mother thinks about anything - because Katniss is wonderful, and he doesn't want or expect her to be anything other than the amazing woman that she already is - but he doesn't think that he could get out that many words right now if he tried. "Do we really have to talk about my _mother_right now?"

"Well, no..." She looks down at him, and he swears he can practically feel his heart stutter inside his chest. A car passes on the street below and the lights streaming in through the window, that he normally wouldn't even be aware of (in fact, he's not sure that he's _ever_ noticed this before), make her grey eyes flash in the darkened room. "But she just looks at me like I'm one of those girls that's going to be a bad influence on her precious baby boy."

His chest bumps up into hers as he laughs.

"Are you?" He asks, spreading his fingers across the expanse of her lower back, anchoring her against him in a way that leaves him close to writhing underneath. "Because I don't think I'd mind that so much..."

The fabric of her skirt slides farther and farther up the more that she angles her body toward him, and, in this moment, he couldn't be more thankful that he lives alone. As his fingers inch upward to the hem of her underwear, she smirks at him and runs her tongue over her bottom lip.

There's a part of her, a relatively large part, that wants nothing more than to reply with _'I'll be whatever you want me to be'_. She can't do that, though. Not when just the word _'girlfriend'_ scares the shit out of her.

"If that's what you want," she whispers instead, focusing on how dilated his pupils are, on how firm his grip is - on _anything_ other than the hang ups that she has about almost _everything_.

"I just want you... However you'll let me have you," he whispers, maybe a little more drunk than he'd realized himself. He's pretty sure that he'd never be so bold with his words otherwise. They've been seeing each other for close to two months now, and he's spent that time being extra cautious. He can't deny how good it feels to be so free with his thoughts, though. And he knows it might just be the multiple mugs of hard cider, but judging by the way that her fingers are starting to work the fly of his jeans, he thinks that maybe she's feeling just as good as he is right now.

* * *

He knows that she cannot stand her boss. He can't say that he's the guy's biggest fan, either. From the creepy beard and mustache combo that he's got going on, to the way that his eyes always seem to be subtly following the petite brunette around the room, something about the guy just seems off. Regardless, it's obvious that Katniss is much more comfortable in this party atmosphere than she was at his parents' last night.

'_Of course,'_ he thinks, _'no one here thought to invite my ex-girlfriend the way that my mother had, so I'm sure that helps.'_

When they'd each finally managed to stop undoing the other's attempts at getting ready, he'd asked why exactly her workplace was even having a party tonight. Most companies didn't go through the trouble until Christmas. She'd just laughed and said that Seneca was a bit eccentric about his time off during the holidays, adding that there was probably some yearly beard convention that he had to jet off to. Now, watching the way that the man almost obsessively looks for reflective surfaces to ensure there's not a hair out of place, he thinks that she might just be right.

"Hey, Man." Finnick sidles up to where Peeta stands at one of tall tables lining the wall. He hands his friend a beer and gets this big, dumb grin on his face as he nods to where Annie and Katniss are talking to one of their co-workers across the room. "I like this. Let's always date girls that are friends."

Peeta laughs a little.

"Well, that would mean you dating the same girl for more than three weeks, Finn."

"Dude. Let's not forget that I've been with Annie just as long as you've been seeing Katniss."

He nods his head absentmindedly and takes a swig from his bottle of beer. Finnick continues to talk, but the blond man at his side barely hears a word. Peeta's much more interested in watching his date as she talks to the fair-skinned redhead that she told him had only started a few weeks ago. He can't for the life of him remember what the woman's name is, but it really doesn't matter nearly as much as the way that Katniss' eyes crinkle in the corners when she smiles at whatever they're talking about.

He's so caught up in those crinkles that he almost misses the rush of words that comes out of Finnick's mouth.

"I'm going to tell her that I love her."

'_Wait… What?'_

He places his bottle down on the table in front of him and turns to face his friend. An unusually red-faced Finnick runs a hand over the back of his head. Now, Peeta knows that it takes an almost embarrassing amount of time for the man in front of him to get ready for a night out. An embarrassing amount meaning that once even Glimmer was ready to leave before Finnick had been. He must be nervous if he's not immediately attempting to fix the mess that he's just made of his hair.

Peeta remains quiet. He knows that Finn will start talking eventually, no prodding needed.

"I'm fucking terrified, Peet."

'_Nope. No prodding at all.'_

"I mean, you know me… I don't exactly put myself out there…" He waves his hand in the air between their bodies as if searching for just the right word. "_Emotionally_, or whatever. Ugh. You know what I'm trying to say."

And Peeta does know what he's saying. Finnick has never been the one to put his heart on the line, or even get far enough into something that putting it on the line ever becomes a possibility.

He should be happy for his friend. Happy that he's found someone that he feels such a strong connection with. Happy that the quiet, dark-haired girl on the other side of the room makes his best friend smile, and laugh, and feel brave enough to even fathom throwing out a declaration of love.

And he is happy for him. He really, truly is. He just has to wade through the jealousy and resentment that he wishes he could say that he didn't feel first. Luckily, taking in the nervous smile the man beside him offers and the way that he sees his friend's eyes wander over to where Annie's standing, it doesn't take him long. If there's one thing that Peeta Mellark knows how to be, it's a good friend.

"Annie's great, Finn," he says as he smacks his hand against the man's shoulder. "She'd have to be to make your ass fall in love with her."

Finnick laughs and rolls his eyes before allowing them to flit over in his girlfriend's direction once more.

"I don't know. I'm nervous, I guess." He takes a gulp of his drink to cover up exactly how anxious he really is.

"Don't be. Katniss has mentioned more than a few times just how crazy Annie is about you."

For a split second, Peeta finds himself wondering if the same could be said for him if things were turned around. And the look on the other man's face lets him know just how transparent that thought must be.

As soon as Finn starts to open his mouth, Peeta simply holds up a hand to stop him, putting on a brave face as he speaks.

"You've got this. Trust me." Peeta smiles, meaning every word.

The other man nods, biting the inside of his cheek and keeping his eyes on his drink as he places it on the table.

"Everyone's different, Peet. Just because Katniss isn't a gusher doesn't mean anything. Wait… She's not a gusher is she?" Finnick's eyes widen as he leans in just the slightest bit closer. The look on Peeta's face has him leaning back just as quickly, though, hands raised in surrender. "Sorry, sorry. Completely inappropriate time for sexual innuendo. Got it."

"I swear to God, Finn," Peeta mumbles under his breath as he works to keep his flush under control. He doesn't even want to look up; already able to picture the smirk on the other man's face clearly enough in his mind.

Peeta would give just about anything to hear Finnick, or anyone really, say how obvious it is that Katniss is crazy about him. There are a lot of things that he can tell you about Katniss Everdeen, but the depth of her feelings for him remain a bit of a mystery.

He can tell you everything about the way that she sleeps - half on her stomach, half on her side, and almost always partly on top of him, her ear resting over his chest to help match her breathing to his. And always better in his bed than her own. He can say that there's this small, secret smile that snakes its way onto her face whenever she's thinking something dirty. And he can point out the exact shade of pink that she blushes whenever he asks her to share. She also has about fourteen different scowls that he's managed to decipher over time – from sleepy, to hungry, to secretly amused. His favorite is the one that she gives when he's said something dumb just to get under her skin.

The object of his inner musing catches him watching her across the room and shoots a small smile over Annie's shoulder before turning back to her conversation. The knot that his stomach has worked itself into loosens just a little.

And he can tell you that he's been tumbling, head over heels, since the moment that she called him 'Peter'… Hell, maybe even since the first day that she showed up in his restaurant. He has fallen in love with this woman and has no idea what to do about it, but knows that there's absolutely no going back.

* * *

As much as Katniss loves Annie, and how inherently _nice_ she is, she's pretty sure that if she has to stand here and listen to her pretend to be interested in what their new co-worker has to say for one more minute, she's going to rip her own hair out. And she has nothing against the new girl, whose name has a habit of evading her memory. She seemed nice enough, if not a little quiet.

_'Well, I _thought _she was quiet at least…'_

After listening to her go on for the last five minutes about the new, high powered, strong magnification binoculars that the store carries that she just started using for _'uh… bird watching'_, the woman seems more weird than anything else. She silently wonders how much longer she has to continue standing, nodding her head before she can slip away without seeming rude. Thank God Jo isn't here to deal with this. She'd probably have the poor girl in tears by now with some snarky comment or another.

Speaking of which…

"Where the hell is Jo?" She blurts out before she can catch herself. The startled look on her new co-worker's face makes her backtrack as quickly as she can. "Sorry! I just… I thought she'd be here by now."

_'You're such a tool, Katniss,'_ she thinks, her eyes darting between the redhead's uneasy smile and the way that Annie tries to cover her grin with the back of her hand.

"It's fine," the woman that she's just interrupted waves her hand dismissively. "Actually, there's Johanna now."

Katniss sees the anxious look in Annie's eyes and turns toward the door, confused.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary at first. Unless you count the fact that Johanna's actually wrangled herself into a dress for the occasion. Yeah, everything seems perfectly normal, until…

"Gale?"

The man in question locks eyes with her over Jo's head and offers a sheepish smile. Katniss' eyebrows knit together briefly, and she takes a step in their direction before she even realizes it. There are only a few feet between the three of them when Johanna steps to the side, laying her coat over the back of a chair. She turns to face Katniss, her hands gesturing aimlessly into the air in front of her.

"I was going to," she says, cutting herself off to glance over her shoulder at the man still standing behind her. "I wanted to say something, but he convinced me that this was a conversation better had between the two of you…"

Jo stands in silence for a beat longer, and then, when she feels Gale's hand at her elbow, nods her head a little and moves off to the side. Katniss watches as Johanna, unable to meet her eye, practically attaches herself to Annie's hip once she reaches the table.

She's never really seen the other woman feeling anything less than sure of herself. If she were better at reading people, more intuitive, she might realize that underneath her rough exterior, Johanna's really just worried about damaging one of the few close friendships that she has. Instead, the apprehension that she shows just leaves Katniss confused.

There's something oddly comforting about the way that she and Gale fall into step beside one another, making their way to the end of the bar. She waits as he orders two beers from the man behind the counter, studying the way that he nervously drums his fingers against the side of his leg. He slides one of the bottles in her direction and, wordlessly, they make their way to a nearby table.

He's nervous, and it reminds her of how he'd spun his coffee cup in his hands that day, months ago, at the diner. When he starts to pick at the edge of a coaster with his thumbnail, she decides there's only so much of his stalling that she can take.

"So, you and Jo, huh?" Katniss lifts an eyebrow along with one side of her mouth. She allows her gaze to flit over to where Johanna is now seated, throwing back a shot of what looks like whiskey. Annie must have had it waiting on her.

Gale shrugs, leaning forward against the bar instead of sitting on the stool behind him.

"She told me to call her when I got my head out of my ass. Well, she said your ass, actually, but yeah… And then, at the engagement party, when I saw you, so happy with Bread Boy over there…"

"Bread Boy? Really, Gale? He owns a deli, not a Panera."

"Doesn't mean that he can't smell exactly like the inside of one. Don't tell me that you haven't noticed," he laughs, glancing across the room to where Peeta is trying not to be obvious in his staring. He's failing miserably, but the fact that they're being watched doesn't bother Gale the way that he thought it might. "Makes me a little uncomfortable to be honest. No man should smell that delicious."

She smiles softly at his attempt to lighten the mood, but it doesn't stop her from following up with a more stern expression a second later when he's rubbing the back of his neck and refusing to look at her.

"You're stalling. Again."

He chuckles a little before dropping his hand back to his side and then finally turns to face her.

"Heh… I guess that I am. Sorry. It's just… I guess you look happy, and now I'm letting myself be happy, too."

Katniss takes an unconscious step to the side, leaning out from behind Gale's broad shoulders to get a better look around the room. When her eyes lock onto Peeta, one side of her mouth quirks up at just the sight of him there, listening to Finnick go on about who knows what while picking at the peeling label of his beer bottle. She watches him as he nods absentmindedly and feels her stomach tighten when his eyes lift to meet hers through the crowd between them.

He raises his eyebrows, tilting his head the slightest bit in Gale's direction, silently asking if everything's okay. The way that her eyes soften eases his worry, and he smiles at her – sweet, slightly crooked, and completely capable of making her forget about everyone else in the room.

So it's not surprising when she jumps as Gale clears his throat a few seconds later. She blushes a little at being caught, but refuses to acknowledge it.

"Jo makes you happy then?"

"She does. It's weird and still makes next to no sense to me, but she really does."

There's a soft smile on his face – one that's so at odds with the tough, hardened exterior that Gale usually puts up. There's a tug from somewhere deep in her chest that she knows has more to do with the man in front of her having been her best friend and (only) confidant for so long than the fact that he was once hers. It's an odd mix of happiness, tension and, above anything else, relief.

She moves around to stand on the same side of the table and nudges him in the side with her elbow. He grins down at her while she takes the long pull needed to empty her bottle and waits for the inevitable teasing that's to come. She doesn't disappoint and starts in as they both start to move in unison back to the bar for another drink.

"I thought that she hated you," she says with quiet laughter.

He lifts a shoulder along with his response, "I thought that she did, too."

"And I thought that you hated her."

They ease up to the bar, and he leans forward, resting both of his elbows on the slick, mahogany surface. She recognizes the look on his face; it's the one that he gets whenever he can't decide if saying what's on his mind is really the best idea.

"I thought for a while that I did, too. But now… I don't know…I think that I might even love her."

* * *

"Are you okay?" Peeta's voice comes behind her, and she looks up to meet his eyes in the mirror. His shirt is gone now, probably folded neatly on top of her dresser in that endearing way that makes her feel like just a little bit of a slob when she thinks of the dress she wore earlier being tossed haphazardly on the floor. He moves to stand behind her, letting his hands settle onto her hips. She tries not to squirm when his thumbs trace over her skin, even though he knows damn well that she's ticklish there.

"I'm fine," she attempts, talking the best that she can around her toothbrush. A tiny bit of foam leaks from the corner of her mouth and he smirks at her as she wipes it away.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

There's no use in trying to suppress her eye roll, and he just gives a short chuckle at the gesture. His hands are still loosely gripping her hips when she bends at the waist to rinse. It's ridiculous how her body reacts to his despite the fact that her mind is little more than a muddled mess at the moment. She tries not to overthink everything, smacking playfully at him with one hand while the other cups water from the faucet to bring to her lips. With a full-out laugh now, he traps her hand in his and kisses the back of her neck as she moves to stand up straight.

"I _said_ 'I'm fine'." She turns in his arms, offering him a small smile before rocking up onto her toes to kiss his stubbled jaw.

"You sure?"

His eyebrow is slightly raised, and the fact that she's maybe, possibly, not telling the entire truth tugs at her conscience.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Her mumble gets muffled, almost lost in the scant amount of space between her lips and his collar bone as she folds herself into him even more.

"Because you don't like change."

She leans her head back to get a better look at his face, fully intent on voicing her denial. She's ready to point out that change doesn't bother her _that_ much. In fact, she's even ready to say that it's something that she welcomes with open arms.

_'But that's a big, damn lie,' _she thinks, dropping her chin back to the spot on his chest. _'It's like pulling teeth to get you to even try a new freak'n sandwich at the deli, Everdeen.'_

And it is. Something as simple as trying a new sandwich or allowing Peeta to pick her up from work instead of riding the bus home nearly makes her stomach cramp with anxiety. In fact, she still only lets him give her a ride a couple of times a week…

So maybe she's not the biggest fan of change. And, yes, maybe it does make her feel just the tiniest bit off knowing that things between two of the more prominent people in her life are changing so drastically. That doesn't mean that what she says next is any less true.

"I'm happy for Gale and Jo," she shrugs, linking her hands behind his neck.

Peeta makes some small, simple 'hmm' noise in the back of his throat as he watches her. The skin between her eyebrows pinches together, and one side of her mouth is drawn in tightly.

_'And there's my favorite scowl…'_

"I _am_," she insists, a mild level of irritation creeping into her voice that makes him want to smirk.

"Okay," he mutters, looking at the mirror behind her while pretending to be thinking over her answer. He's quickly becoming much more focused on the way that his hands look lying across the small of her back, pale fingers disappearing underneath the hem of her tank top. He moves them lower, until they start creeping their way across the waistband of the boyshorts she's wearing, and he feels her stiffen in his arms. There's a smile in her voice when she speaks, replacing the annoyance that was there a second ago.

"You're just staring at my ass, aren't you?"

His fingers rove over the curve of her ass, running along the hem of her underwear and making her laugh and shimmy a little against him.

"Nope." He leans down to nip playfully at the side of her neck. "Not at all."

Something that sounds like a mix between a snort and a scoff leaves her mouth, but she doesn't make any attempt to pull away. He decides to take the opportunity and run with it.

"I have to ask, though, what'd Gale say that made you shove him so hard toward the end of the night?"

Katniss groans a little, shaking her head. The memory of Gale stumbling into that table is still fresh in her mind.

"I didn't push him that hard."

"Uh huh. Tell that to Annie's drink that spilled all over the place." He tugs a little on the end of her braid before letting his hand slip lower, back to where it rested just seconds ago. "What did he say?"

"Nothing," she mumbles, suddenly overcome with the need to hide her face again. "He just told me that I'd better be getting back to my boyfriend; that's all."

"Oh?"

"Yeah…"

His heart rate picks up speed at the word, and he wishes that he felt more confident. He wonders why he doesn't; she's right here, wrapped in his arms after all. He's torn between wishing that she didn't make him feel so nervous, and appreciating the fact that she's even allowed him close enough to feel as much as he does.

He ignores the urge to just keep quiet, and let it go on as if she never said anything.

"So, does that mean that I'm your boyfriend now?"

Her stomach threatens to make its way into her throat, and she chances a look up at his face. She's not sure exactly what she was expecting, but the openly apprehensive look that clouds his features is a surprise. Maybe he's just as scared about fucking this up as she is.

"What else would you be?" She asks before she can stop herself.

"I don't know," he starts, tracing circles over the skin of her lower back with one hand. "I mean… You always just introduce me as 'Peeta', so I wasn't sure…"

'_And now you sound like a needy bitch…'_ he chastises himself.

Her throat threatens to close, and she has to take a deep breath in order for her next sentence to come out as light and playful as she wants it to.

"Do you want to be introduced as my boyfriend?"

'_I'm 26 goddamned years old. I should not be so afraid of this, damn it,' _she thinks, her fingertips toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

The look that he gives her, starting off with one corner of his mouth lifting and ending with a full-fledged smile that reaches all the way up to his eyes, is breathtaking. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as his fingers stop mid circle, tightening and curling gently into the skin of her back.

"Does that mean that you'll be my girlfriend?"

She laughs at the goofy look on his face, and is amazed at the way it's enough to disarm her completely – putting any fear of the word that had scared her so much just the night before out of her mind.

"Is this where you make me wear your letterman jacket, Mellark?"

Before she knows it, his hands are on the backs of her thighs, and he's lifted her to sit on the sink in front of him. He leans down, and his words hit her mouth seconds before his lips do.

"Nah. I'm pretty content with what you're wearing right now."


End file.
