A/N: Moment of honesty... Writing Chapter 9 of "The Lover and The Best Friend" is proving to be a superhuman feat, so when this story took form in my mind, I decided to pursue it and to try to write it quickly (I am a recovering perfectionist, so trying to write it quickly should help with my recovery). Anyhow, I hope to write this while continuing to work on my other fic. I hope you enjoy!

Amaranthine: (adj.) Unfading, undying, everlasting

It was 2:24 p.m.

Daniel Mellark assumed his usual spot at the far end of the display case where loaves of honey wheat and sourdough waited to be claimed by human hands instead of the hooves and snouts that would inherit what hadn't sold by the end of the day.

This time of day always seemed to speed by, and it would soon be 4 p.m. Rye and Peeta would return from wrestling practice and fill their father's ears with stories of their increased prowess with headlocks and takedowns and grappling holds as they washed their hands and tied their Mellark Bakery aprons around their waists. After about 15 minutes of giving his full attention and agreeing wholeheartedly, Daniel would retreat upstairs and leave the shop to his two younger sons who would take turns running the cash register and filling orders that were scheduled for an early morning pick up.

At 5:30 p.m., the front door would chime for Thatch, the eldest son, who'd already worked the 7 a.m. – 2 p.m. shift alongside his parents. He would return from Natalie Minson's house with the furtive, lopsided grin of a young man in love to tally the receipts and padlock the entrance door when the shop closed at 6 p.m.

A year ago, the then 21-year-old Thatch had requested a meeting with his parents. He'd told them that since the bakery would be his one day, he wanted increased responsibilities with managing the family business. And after more than two decades of shoulders that permanently ached from mixing batter, and eyes that almost shut from squinting to see the small type on receipts and supply forms, Daniel and Nance Mellark were more than happy to oblige. With minimal oversight from his father, Thatch managed the day-to-day finances, ensured all orders were ready on time, served as the contact person for vendors and suppliers, and made sure all clean-up duties were completed before the close of each work day.

But for now, it was 2:24 p.m., and in six minutes, they would walk by. Primrose and Katniss Everdeen. Maura's girls.

As with every afternoon between 2 and 4 p.m., when business crawled and his wife and sons were elsewhere, Daniel would perch on a stool at the far end of the display case, out of view of passersby, and he would wait to see Primrose moisten her lips and stare longingly at the cakes on display. Unlike her sister who would only allow a quick glance at what they couldn't afford, Primrose would crane her neck, her final gaze landing on the strawberry shortcake until her older sister's gentle tug pulled the girl forward, toward their meager home in the rundown part of town known as the Seam.

That was Daniel's favorite part of the day and his hardest. He was desperate to cleave a wide slice of the cake, a slice that would capture the most strawberries and the highest tufts of icing, and run behind the girls with the dessert on one of his nicest plates. He would much prefer it, though, if they would stop in one day, in hopes that he was a rare and gracious man who would allow them a closer look at the desserts, even though he knew they had no money to purchase a slice.

But that would never happen. Katniss was James Everdeen's daughter through and through, and James Everdeen, a miner, doggedly and unapologetically held the virtues of the Seam. Seam residents were greatly underprivileged in an already underprivileged District 12. Yet, Seam residents were hard workers who would rather hunger with dignity than accept a handout from someone in the District 12 Merchant class. Even some of the Seam women, the prostitutes known to visit Head Peacekeeper Cray, took pride that they earned their pay.

Daniel's eyes shot to the round, wood-framed clock on the opposite wall. 2:27. Three more minutes. He really wished he could give Primrose a slice of cake. Just one slice. Just once.

2:28.

He cringed at the memory of how thin Primrose and Katniss had gotten when James nearly died in a mining accident that killed 14 other miners. Prim was about eight years old at the time, and James had been incapacitated for nearly six months. Maura was the best healer in the district and devoted most of her time to her husband's recovery, but she needed to keep food on the table. The problem was that most of the people she helped couldn't afford to pay or trade for anything of value that would result in food for their bellies. Daniel wanted to reach out to Maura, to offer food and resources. But in order to do that, he would need to go to her house in the Seam, and in that part of town, Daniel would stick out like a sore thumb. His visit would draw neighbors to their porches and would invite whispering lips. Word would spread like wildfire that Daniel Mellark was visiting his old girlfriend while her husband was barely hanging on to life.

But not doing anything was torturous. So Daniel devised a plan. He slipped two, partially burnt loaves into his youngest son's knapsack and asked him to deliver them to the girl with the coal-colored hair and the voice that silenced the birds – when no one was looking. Peeta readily agreed, and Daniel saw matching concern in his eyes. Daniel and Peeta had promised one another that no one would know their secret; Daniel had hoped that since the bread was burnt, Katniss and Maura would assume it came from someone who didn't bake for a living, perhaps a concerned adult.

But the next day, Katniss's gaze lingered as she passed the bakery. She knew. Soon, Daniel heard that Katniss and a young man from the Seam who'd lost his father in the mine explosion had taken to the woods to hunt for game and forage for berries – and that she was actually a good shot with her bow and arrow. Maura and her girls were surviving. Still, Daniel hated himself for not doing more. For never doing more.

The clock read 2:30 p.m. Daniel waited expectantly.

2:31… 2:32… 2:35…

His brows sank with worry. What if she was sick? What if she'd caught the fever that had robbed two Seam children and one Merchant child of their lives 18 months ago? He'd heard that Primrose had started going with her mother on her healing visits.

Dammit, Maura! Daniel sprung from his stool, one hand gripping his waist, the other hand running roughshod over his face. She'd too young to be exposed to all that sickness! Far too young. And if James Everdeen had any sense, he'd never –

And there she was. Taking slow steps past the bakery. Walking much closer to the window than Katniss would ever allow.

Wait. Where's Katniss?

For the first time ever, Primrose was alone. She was walking alone.

Daniel gnawed on his bottom lip in concentration, his mind speedily assessing the possibilities.

This never happens. Never. And it may never happen again.

Daniel rushed to the bakery door, not allowing his mind a chance to dissuade him or to formulate a plan. She startled at the sound of the door's chime and at the sturdy man with wheat blonde hair who emerged.

He had to think of something. Quick.

"Hello dear." His heart beat like a buffalo stampede in his chest.

She looked as if she'd been caught red-handed. "Hi," she whispered.

"I have a problem that I was hoping you could help me with. You see, I have a piece of strawberry shortcake that's way too big for me to eat by myself, but I don't want to let it go to waste." Prim blinked innocently as Daniel spoke. "I would really appreciate it if you would help me by sharing the slice with me."

She looked dumbfounded. Then doubtful. Then downcast.

"I can't, sir." She dipped her head. "I can't afford to pay for my half."

"No," he quickly reassured, taking a step closer. "No, you'd be doing me a huge favor. In fact, I'd be indebted to you for helping me."

Prim cocked her head in consideration. A smile crept onto her face and twinkled in her cornflower blue eyes. Hers was the exact shade he'd only seen once before, in the eyes of the woman who'd meant the world to him.

"Really?" In that moment, Prim was wonder and hope and pure innocence.

"Really," Daniel smiled warmly.

"Well…" She looked to her left and right. "Okay. "I'll help you."

"Great. Thank you Pr—" Daniel stopped short. As far as she knew, he didn't know her name. "Princess." He turned and headed back to the bakery, motioning for her to follow. "Right this way."

He pulled out a chair for her at one of the tables by the window and told her he'd be right back. Inside the kitchen, where he had a refrigerated version of the strawberry cake, he cut an enormous slice and poured two glasses of milk. He returned moments later to find her sitting upright with her ankles crossed and her hands clasped on top of the table. Daniel smiled, pleased by her ladylike manners.

He balanced the cake and the glasses of milk, setting them on the table in front of Prim, then returning to the kitchen for two forks and two of his best dessert plates.

She was sitting in the same spot with the same mannerisms. Her head was angled away from the plate, but Daniel suppressed a laugh at the way her eyes were slyly slanted to the cake.

She turned her eyes to him as he approached. "By the way, what is your name, dear?"

"Primrose Everdeen."

The sound of her last name pained him. Maura's daughter. Daniel busied himself with cutting crossways the cake – a sizable chunk with all the strawberries and icing – and placing it on one plate that he slid to Prim. The block of yellow cake that remained, the bottom portion of the slice, went on his plate. Prim's eyes widened at the huge slice of cake in front of her.

"Thank you for helping me Primrose." He cut a piece of the cake with his fork and lifted it into his mouth. "You must tell me how I can pay you back."

But Prim still looked stunned. "I think you gave me the wrong piece by mistake."

Daniel lifted his eyes questioningly, pretending that he didn't know what she meant. The truth was he didn't want any cake. He wanted to sit there and watch her eat as much as her heart desired. "No dear. That's your piece."

"That's all you want?" She asked.

"Yep. At my age, you can only handle a little bit of sugar at a time. Now at your age – by the way, how old are you, dear?" He already knew the answer.

"12."

"12? Well you can have all the cake you want! Sugar is meant for the young."

She laughed at this, exposing a toothy grin. It was a far greater reward than Daniel could have imagined.

They talked about her day in school, how she loved science but didn't like math, and how she wanted to be a healer one day like her mother and help the people of District 12.

"So you don't think you'll want to move away from District 12 when you're older? A lot of young people are doing that nowadays."

She shook her head as she licked icing from her fingers. "No. I want to stay here. Close to my mom and dad."

He felt a warm rush of relief. He'd get to see her. To watch her grow and one day have a family of her own. This was the perfect opportunity to ask about her sister, Daniel realized, and why she'd missed their walk home.

"And what about your sister?"

"Oh, she'll leave. She says after high school, she wants to find work in another district where she can earn more money. She wants to help our family more, but my dad probably won't accept it. My dad says we're his pride and joy, and he'll always take care of us."

Daniel nodded, ignoring her words about James Everdeen. "That's really kind of her nonetheless."

"Yep. She's my best friend."

Daniel smiled. "Where is she, by the way? She'd not walking with you today."

Daniel quickly bit his tongue. He hoped Prim hadn't picked up on his wording. He didn't want her to know that he'd stood near the end of the display case in the company of the unpurchased breads every afternoon, waiting on them to walk by.

"Oh, she stayed at school to work on a project. At least that's what she told me." Primrose hesitated, turning cautious eyes to Daniel. "Can you keep a secret?"

Daniel paused, his gaze turning serious. "Only if you're not in danger. If you're in danger, then I'll do all I can to help you." Unless you're practically starving, then I'll turn into a coward and not do nearly enough to help. I'm a terrible, terrible person.

"Oh no, it's nothing like that," Prim shrugged.

"Well then, yes I can, Primrose. Your secret is safe with me."

"You're Peeta's dad, right?"

Daniel grinned. That didn't sound like much of a secret. "Yes, I am."

Prim leaned closer and so did Daniel. "My sister finished her project two nights ago. She went to the wrestling scrimmage at school. She wanted to watch Peeta's match. She likes him, but she doesn't know that I know it, so you can't tell Peeta, okay?"

Daniel's mind shot back to when his youngest son was five years old, to his first day of kindergarten. It was the first time Daniel had seen Maura holding a toddler version of Primrose in her arms – his first glimpse of the girl – as Maura kissed between the twin braids in Katniss's hair and ushered her older daughter into the school. Daniel had been as emotionally stable as a house of cards, and he almost pointed Maura out to Peeta. He almost shared with his five-year-old that he'd wanted to marry Maura instead of the Peeta's mother.

Two days later, Peeta outran his brothers to get home to his father and tell him that he loved the girl with twin braids and the hair like coal, the girl named Katniss Everdeen who knew every word of The Valley Song and could out sing the birds. Unfortunately, Nance had been within earshot, and her hand connected with Peeta's cheek in a loud crack, sending the boy to the floor with a thud.

"Don't you ever speak of that Seam trash in this house again!" Nance had pointed a threatening finger at their whimpering son. "You hear me, boy?"

And in that moment, Daniel knew that Nance somehow knew what he'd never spoken. She knew that her husband was still in love with Maura Keller – Mrs. Maura Everdeen. That day, Daniel had held his sobbing son in his arms, and he promised to keep all of Peeta's secrets. And while Peeta shared other things with Daniel, Peeta never spoke of Katniss again. Now Primrose was saying that Katniss had a crush on Peeta. He wondered if this was one secret Peeta decided not to share.

"I'll keep your secret, Primrose," Daniel vowed. "I promise I won't tell Peeta."

Prim smiled in approval. A few minutes later, she'd finished her cake and milk. Daniel had already finished his smaller piece. She stood to leave.

"Do you want me to wash the dishes?" She asked. "I don't mind."

She still thinks she owes me for this, Daniel thought sorrowfully. I owe her so much more than a slice of cake.

"Oh no, dear. You've done more than enough to help me out today. But there is one thing else I need."

"Okay."

"I was wondering if you could keep this our secret. You can tell your mommy, Primrose. You can always tell your mommy anything. But I don't want anyone else to know. Not even Katniss. I'd be really embarrassed if anyone found out that I sneak slices of cake during the day."

She laughed good-naturedly. "Okay. I can keep your secret. And you can call me Prim. Everyone else does."

"Okay, Prim. I'll do that."

She waved before exiting the door, and he basked in the sweetness of her smile. "Bye Mr. Mellark."

"Bye, Prim. Thanks again."

Daniel sat there for several minutes, unable to outrun the onslaught of emotions raging within. Because he had secrets of his own.

Oh, Prim. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. Comments welcomed. Stay tuned... ;)