Katniss presses the red button beside the door and rubs her hands together, trying to bring some warmth into her frozen fingers. After a moment, the familiar buzz signals that the door is unlocked. She rushes inside as the doors close quickly behind her.

A friendly smile greets her from behind the desk. "Hi, Katniss. Still coming down out there, I see."

"Hi, Cecelia." Katniss shakes the snow from her shoulders and smiles as she scrawls her name in the visitor log. "I don't get it; what's so great about a 'white Christmas' anyway?"

Cecelia laughs. "My kids are certainly excited, but I suppose things look different when you're young."

"Guess that's my problem, then," Katniss says ruefully. "I haven't been young in a very long time."

Cecelia gives her a sympathetic smile. "Oh, hon. Don't sell yourself short. You've got a lot of years ahead of you," she assures her kindly.

Something in Cecelia's tone reminds Katniss sharply of her mother, so many years ago. She backs away before she does something stupid like cry. "Yeah, well. I better get going," she explains, waving toward the hallway. "Have a nice holiday."

"You, too, sweetie."

As she rounds the corner out of sight, Katniss pauses to catch her breath. She closes her eyes and takes a moment to compose herself before continuing.

She's taken this route a thousand times now: around the corner, down the long hall, and unlock the door to the stairs - code 1212 on the keypad - then walk up to the second floor. She keys in the code again to enter the resident area, taking in the familiar smell - an unpleasant combination of sour milk and disinfectant.

At the door she's greeted by Mr. Chaff, a kind old man missing part of one arm. He maneuvers his wheelchair easily with his good hand, his feet shuffling on the floor to inch him closer to Katniss.

"Merry Christmas, Miss Everdeen."

"Thanks, Mr. Chaff," she says shifting her purse on her shoulder and glancing down the hall toward the closed door. "Merry Christmas to you, too."

"Well, now. Lookie here." He glances up at the ceiling to the red and green bunch hanging by a ribbon. "We're under the mistletoe, ain't we?" he says with a wink.

Katniss rolls her eyes, but decides to humor the man. "So we are." She leans down to give him a kiss on the cheek but he turns suddenly and gives her a wet kiss right on the mouth.

"Hey!" she says, wiping the slobber off with the back of her hand while Mr. Chaff laughs heartily.

"Now, Mr. Chaff, that wasn't very nice." Her nerves settle at the sound of the smooth, deep voice behind her. "You wouldn't be trying to move in on my girl, would you?" Her cheeks warm as the man in blue scrubs moves into sight, putting a hand lightly on her back in greeting before folding his arms and frowning down at the older man.

"Aw, Peeta, we all know she ain't your girl," Mr. Chaff says. "She's been holdin' out for a real man - like me."

"Is that so?" Peeta asks, eyebrows raised. "You know, I'm not sure Ms. Seeder would be too pleased to hear about that…"

"Now, now... Don't be botherin' Ms. Seeder with none of your nonsense," Mr. Chaff says, flustered. Peeta just laughs as Mr. Chaff begins walking his chair backward carefully toward the common room. "You always gotta go and ruin my fun," he mutters, shaking his head at Peeta.

"I'm sorry about that," Peeta says with a chuckle. "He's been pulling that trick on every pretty girl that's walked through here this week."

Katniss bristles at the word 'pretty.' "I don't know why he tried it on me, then," she mumbles.

"Don't you?" Peeta asks softly, his blue eyes locked on hers.

After a moment, she clears her throat. She's suddenly very warm, and yanks at her scarf to remove it as she starts to walk down the hall. "So, um... how is she today?"

Peeta walks beside her. "It was a good day. She seems to be excited about Christmas. She was telling me stories about her childhood holidays."

"That's good, I guess," Katniss says, pausing outside the closed door.

"Take your time," Peeta says, touching her back gently again. "I'm going to go check on a few other patients, but I'll be back to check in on you. Okay?"

Katniss nods. "Thank you." Peeta nods back and gives her a warm smile.

She watches as he walks away, then turns back to read the numbers beside the door. Room 213, one of the few private rooms here at Capitol Care Center. It was a long road to get here. In the first six months, her mother had gone through nearly a dozen different roommates. Just as Katniss got her used to a new person, the elderly woman would pass away.

Luckily, Peeta was able to pull some strings and have her moved to this room a few months ago. He argued that she was one of the youngest patients here, and would be a resident for much longer than the others. The administration finally agreed.

Katniss isn't sure how she'll ever repay him for his help.

With a sigh, she readies herself to go in. This shouldn't be so difficult; she's been visiting seven days a week for over a year now. But something about the holiday is bringing up painful memories, thoughts of happier times that she knows can never be again.

She pushes on the handle, burying those thoughts in favor of practical matters.

The wheelchair is parked close to the window facing the glass and the falling snow. Katniss notices her thin blond hair is pulled back in a crooked version of a french braid, and she's struck by a memory of those now-frail hands plaiting the same style braid into her own dark tresses. A lifetime ago.

"Hi, Mama," she says softly, not wanting to startle her.

Her mother doesn't turn from her watchpoint. "It's snowing out," she says.

"Yes, it is," Katniss says. She puts her bag and coat on the bed and moves to stand beside her mother. "The roads were getting pretty slippery."

Her mother turns to study her guest. "I'm sorry... my manners... I'm Lila Winston. It's nice to meet you."

Katniss winces. The days she uses her maiden name are always the worst. She should be used to it by now, but it still hurts. "It's me, Mama. Katniss. Your daughter."

Squinting eyes take her in from top to bottom, uncertain, before they migrate back to the window. "Mother should be back soon," Lila says. "She ran to get some more sugar for the cookies."

"That's nice," Katniss says, pulling a chair closer to sit beside her mother. There's no point in reminding Lila of the truth: her mother passed away nearly ten years ago.

After a few minutes in companionable silence, Lila speaks again. "That's a pretty sweater, Katniss."

The sound of her name on her mother's tongue brings fresh tears to her eyes. "Thank you, Mama." She takes Lila's hand in her own and gives it a gentle squeeze.

A soft knock on the door draws their attention, and a head of ashy blond curls peeks around its frame. "Hello, ladies. Am I interrupting?"

"No," Katniss says. "Come on in. We were just watching the snow."

"One of my favorite activities," Peeta says, walking over to the pair. "How are you feeling, Mrs. Everdeen?"

Lila glances at Peeta for the first time, her eyes widening with recognition. "Brian? Brian Mellark?" she whispers. "How did you find me?"

Peeta smiles back kindly. "I'm Brian's youngest, Peeta. Remember? But I understand why you'd make that mistake. Everyone says we look just alike."

Lila's eyes cloud suddenly. She puts a hand on her forehead, her confusion evident. "I'm sorry - I don't… Who are you? And where is my mother?"

"She'll be back, Mama," Katniss says, stroking Lila's arm in an effort to limit her mother's agitation. "This is Peeta. He's a friend of mine."

Rekindling Peeta's friendship was a rare highlight in this nightmare. It was a happy coincidence when they ran into each other last year and she realized he worked at CCC. They had known each other as kids; he and her friend Madge were the only two from school to come to her father's funeral. As time went on, they drifted apart, though she never really forgot about him. She's so grateful to have him in her life again.

"I brought you a present," Peeta says, crouching down to meet Lila at eye level. He puts a small bundle on her lap. "I thought you might enjoy this."

Lila pulls back the cellophane to reveal an intricately decorated gingerbread man, complete with a tiny bowtie. She smiles down at the cookie, petting the icing carefully. "So pretty."

Peeta pats her knee, his eyes flitting to Katniss and then back to Lila. "I promise, it tastes good, too," he says with a grin.

"Thank you, Peeta. Gingerbread is her favorite Christmas cookie," Katniss says.

"I know. She mentioned it when we talked a couple of days ago."

Katniss is touched that he would pay attention to something so small as her mother's favorite cookie. "Where did you find such a pretty one? That's not a Capitol cookie." She wrinkles her nose at the thought of the processed, pre-packaged treats they serve to all of the residents.

"I made gingerbread houses with Rye's kids this weekend. I always make too much."

"Brian's an excellent baker," Lila explains to Katniss before looking back at Peeta. She pats the hand he's rested on the arm of her chair. "I know you're sweet on me, Brian, but you're going to have to move on. We're not kids anymore. I'm in love with Jack Everdeen. He's going to marry me." She smiles wistfully and goes back to petting at the cookie.

Katniss frowns at Peeta. "What is she talking about?" Her mother is often confused, but while most of the stories she tells are misplaced, they tend to be valid memories.

Peeta stands up and straightens his scrubs. "My father… the two of them dated briefly. A long time ago. Before she married your dad."

Katniss is stunned by this news, and a little hurt. All these years, she had been under the impression that Jack Everdeen was her mother's first love. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asks him with a scowl.

"I'm sorry, Katniss." Peeta says. "I assumed you knew."

"I didn't," she murmurs. Katniss studies Lila, overwhelmed with the realization that there are parts of her mother's life that are likely trapped inside her forever.

"Where is Jack?" Lila asks suddenly, her eyes widening in a panic.

"I'm sure he'll be here later," Katniss says, standing and placing a hand on her mother's shoulder. She's learned to avoid any mention of her father's death. Just like those early days, decades ago, memories of Jack put Lila in a deep state of grief where she won't eat or speak to anyone. Or worse, the confusion makes her relive the pain of losing him all over again.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Everdeen. A lot of folks are waiting until the snow slows down before traveling," Peeta says.

"Mmm." Lila touches her hair and smiles at Katniss. "Brian made my hair pretty. Just like Jack likes."

"You did this?" Katniss asks, fighting a smile; Peeta shrugs sheepishly. She reviews the sloppy braid with new appreciation. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"My nieces like to play beauty salon. I figured it wouldn't hurt to learn; I've always admired a beautiful braid." His blue eyes lock on hers again, and she's finding it harder and harder to look away.

"Jack's not coming, is he?" Lila asks quietly. She's looking out the window again, her eyes sad and distant.

"Mama-"

"He's not coming."

Katniss realizes her mother is having a rare lucid moment. "No. He's not," she finally replies, her voice breaking slightly. Lila just nods, her eyes trained on the mountains in the distance.

"I'm so tired, Katniss. I want to go to bed now." Her mother's voice is small and childlike.

"Sure. I can…" Katniss looks toward the hallway.

"No, let me help," Peeta insists. He wheels the chair closer to the bed and lifts Lila effortlessly into the sheets.

"He's a nice boy, Katniss," Lila says weakly as Peeta straightens out the covers. Her eyes flutter sleepily.

"Yes, he is, Mama," Katniss says, giving Peeta a sad smile across her mother's bed.

Lila's breathing gradually slows as she falls into a steady sleep. Katniss leans down and gives her mother a kiss on the forehead. "Merry Christmas, Mama."

Katniss gathers her things and heads into the hallway, Peeta following close behind.

"When does Prim get in?" Peeta asks as he closes Lila's door.

"Tuesday," Katniss answers. "She'll be staying just through the new year." When Prim's husband got his dream job across the country a few years ago, close to his hometown, no one could have guessed the turn Lila would take. Prim does her best to come out a few times a year, but with the baby now, it's harder to stay very long.

"You aren't leaving?" he asks, watching Katniss wind the scarf around her neck. "Are you due somewhere for Christmas?"

Christmas. She had agreed to have dinner at her uncle's, but it's honestly the last thing she wants to deal with right now. "I don't know. I was going to drop in at Haymitch's. But I'm really not in the mood. I think I'm just going to head home."

Peeta glances out the hall window at the swirling snow with a frown. "You really shouldn't drive right now. It's too dangerous."

"What choice do I have?" she asks.

"Stay. Have Christmas with me. Here."

"That's silly," she says. "You're working. Don't you have other patients to attend to?"

"Actually…" He scrubs his hand across the back of his neck. "My shift ended a few hours ago."

"What? But you…" She waves toward the window. "Peeta! You should have left before the storm, so you could spend the holiday with your family."

"I volunteered to stay. So the staff with small children could leave." He shrugs. "Nobody needs me."

"Peeta."

"Besides," he says, ignoring her concerned expression, "I wanted to see you." Her face flushes under his earnest stare. "Please," he says more insistently. "I brought extra food, just in case I got stuck here in the storm. Share it with me?"

He's so eager, so sincere, it's hard to say no. Finally, she nods. "Sure."

"Great!" he says with a relieved smile. "Why don't you head upstairs while I get the food. No one is in guest room C tonight."

Guest room C is a family room in the corner of the third floor that patients' families can reserve for birthday celebrations or group visits. There's a small balcony outside, and the floor to ceiling windows provide an amazing view of the mountains. In the summer, the windows slide open fully, giving the illusion you're up on a rooftop with the world at your feet.

Katniss enters the dark room and flips on the overhead fluorescent lights for just a moment before deciding they're much too bright. She turns them off and instead opts for the under-cabinet lighting, giving the room a warm glow.

Peeta arrives with a wool blanket tucked under one arm and a large cooler bag in the other hand.

"What's the blanket for?" Katniss asks.

"I thought we could make a picnic of it," he says, shifting the room's couch out of the way and spreading the blanket down in front of the windows. "It'd be a shame not to take advantage of the view."

Katniss joins him on the floor and watches as he pulls plastic bowls and packages of foil out of the bag. He's brought a feast: cold ham, spinach salad, more gingerbread cookies, and a loaf of bread studded with nuts and raisins. He opens a thermos and pours her a small cup of warm cider.

"This is amazing," she says between sips of cider. "Thanks for sharing it with me."

"Thank you for agreeing to this." Peeta pops a piece of ham in his mouth and reaches for a napkin, his gaze never leaving her face. "This is the best Christmas I've had in a long time. Spending time with you… it's like the perfect gift."

"Oh, please." Katniss chuckles nervously. She never knows how to take it when he teases her like this. "With lines like that, how are you still single?"

Peeta doesn't laugh, just passes his eyes across her. "I'm honestly not sure."

She shuffles nervously on the blanket. "Guess you haven't met the right girl yet."

"No, that's not true," he says, his eyes still locked on her face. "In fact, there is this one girl…"

Katniss swallows. "Oh?" she says, cringing at how her voice cracks.

"I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember," he says huskily. "But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until recently."

"Maybe she noticed you all along," Katniss murmurs, still unsure if she's reading him correctly. "Maybe she didn't think she was worth your attention."

"Katniss," he says, taking her hand gently into his own. "You can't really believe that."

She doesn't answer. Clearly he's wrong; there's no way she could ever be good enough for someone like him. Especially now, with all of her energy dedicated to her mother; he deserves someone who can focus on making him happy. She'd be nothing more than a burden.

"Will you do something for me?" he asks, tugging her closer.

"Hmm?" She's painfully aware of how close they're sitting. She leans into him, hanging on his every word. His eyes keep darting to her lips, and she's taken with how long his eyelashes look in the moonlight.

"Will you promise me... you'll start to take more time for yourself?"

"I can't," she says dismissively.

"You can. You have to."

"My mother needs me," she says simply, pulling her hand back. "She doesn't have anyone else."

"But you don't have to do it all alone. I want to help."

"Peeta-" she starts, but he continues on.

"No, listen. I'm here three days a week anyway. When my shift ends, I can come down and spend a few hours with Lila. Those days, you can take a break; relax or visit with friends."

"But then I'll never get to see-" She stops herself before she can say too much, tears springing to her eyes.

Peeta seems to takes her near-admission as a sign of encouragement. He climbs onto his knees and sits back on his heels, radiating nervous energy. "Will you do something else for me?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

"What?" she whispers, afraid to meet his eyes.

"Will you give me - us - a chance?" he asks shakily. She glances up at his face, at his furrowed brow and pink cheeks. Peeta is normally so confident, but right now he looks as vulnerable as a child.

She rises up onto her knees, mimicking his position, trying to decide how to respond. Finally, she moves closer, their knees touching, and reaches her hands out to cradle his face.

"Katniss?" he whispers.

She strokes his cheeks, the rough stubble scratching at her fingertips, then pulls his face closer, steadily and carefully. She closes her eyes and leans in, placing a tender kiss to his warm lips.

She leans back on her heels and opens her eyes again to find a beaming Peeta staring back at her. "Wow," he says, and she laughs to have finally rendered Peeta - the man who was voted 'most talkative' in high school - speechless.

"Mistletoe," she says with a shrug, and he follows her eyes as they trace up to another red and green bundle hanging from a ribbon on the ceiling.

"Well really, we had no choice," he says, his eyes crinkling playfully.

"Nope," she says, trying not to smile too hard.

"You know, we're still under it," he says. "Maybe we should do that again? Strictly for tradition sake, of course."

"Of course," she says, nodding seriously. "Tradition."

This time, Peeta takes charge, pulling her up on her knees and slanting his mouth across her own. She lets out a small whimper as the tip of his tongue brushes at her open lips, and he groans in response. They separate slightly but keep their foreheads pressed together.

"Let me help you," he pleads again. "Let me be with you. We can do this together."

"Together?" she asks warily.

"Yes," he says. "I think we make a good team."

Her heart is torn. She wants to protect him from herself, from the baggage she would bring to a relationship. And yet, she doesn't want to reject his eager proposal.

But ultimately, she has to recognize how lonely, how beaten down she has felt this past year. She is almost too weak to fight off such a tempting offer.

"Okay," she murmurs. "I'll allow it."

He stands and scoops her up into his arms then, a warm, solid bear hug that is almost more satisfying than his kisses. She can't remember the last time someone held her this way, the last time she felt this safe. This cared for. This loved. She buries her head into his neck so that he can't see the tears pooling in her eyes again.

"I have a confession to make," he says into her hair.

"What?" she asks, pulling back to look into his sheepish blue eyes.

"Well... I had decoration duty this year. It was my idea to hang all the mistletoe."

"Oh really?" she says, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Are you mad?"

Katniss ponders this for a moment, then shakes her head. "No. I'm pretty sure this would have happened anyway."

"You are?" Peeta asks, a happy smile on his face.

"Mmm-hmm," she says, leaning up to give him another kiss. "Because I have a confession to make, too."

"What?"

"My father taught me a lot about plants as a kid, and… that isn't even mistletoe. It's holly."