Gale and Katniss have been becoming closer and closer recently. With them trapped under the same roof for 48 hours, how will their desires flourish, or will they be forced to put their feelings aside as many siblings interrupt?

I can't decide if it's a good day or a bad day.

It's a good day because the Capitol have declared the next 48 hours 'Open to Mandatory Viewing', which means we all have to keep our schedules open as we may be required to watch the television at any time. It also means Gale and I, and the rest of the kids, get the day off school. In addition to this, we do not have a working television in our house, which means we get to spend the next day living with the Hawthorne's and any extra time with my best friend is a good thing.

It's a bad day because everyone over the age of 18 has to take two days off work. Which means no pay, which in most people's cases isn't good, even for the merchants. It's also a bad day because with the impending instruction to turn on the television, the electricity will be on all the time and electricity equals electric fence and that means no hunting, which also equates to no privacy.

"Why do we have to watch the games today?" Prim asks, folding a small pink dress that was once mine, then hers and now will be gifted to Posy Hawthorne.

I shrug, but her back is to me and she doesn't see my motion. "Something important must be going to happen." I say and Prim stops what she's folding and turns to me.

"Important?" she asks.

I nod and hope she drops the subject. If she has no inclination as to why we will be forced to watch today and tomorrow, I don't want to tell her what I suspect.

Apparently my nod is enough for Prim and she goes back to folding and piling up some of our old clothes. I go back to sewing closed a hole in the seam of one of my old t-shirts that I have been working on for well over twenty minutes. I'm not particularly domestic, but a life of necessity has allowed me to gain some fair seamstress skills, but the thought of why we will be making the short walk over to the Hawthorne's house to watch the TV distracts me.

I expect this 48 hours 'Open to Mandatory Viewing' is down to this years Hunger Games almost being over. When it comes down to it, they want us to see the tribute become a victor, live. Last I heard, it was down to six, five careers and the boy from District 11, but I try not to hear. Even when the television is required to be on and we have to stay inside to watch, Gale and I try to occupy ourselves with other things, especially since our tributes are long gone.

Each year our tributes die is hard, but I knew both of them this year, which has made watching especially traumatising. The boy was in my year at school: Peeta Mellark. He didn't last long past the bloodbath. It was a shame. I never knew him well but Gale and I trade with his father, so we've spoken a couple of times. The girl, I knew too. Well, I knew who she was. Samia Cartwright. The younger sister of a girl in my year at school, only 13. A year older them Prim and Rory. People were betting she wouldn't last five minutes- she didn't.

I'm pulled from my thoughts of the Hunger Games by my mother calling my name.

"Katniss?" she prompts.

"What? Sorry?" I ask, oblivious to her original question.

She stands at the other end of the room, pulling a cardigan over Prim's shoulders. "I said 'will you hurry and finish fixing that shirt for Posy, we need to get going?'"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." I quickly close the hole in the fabric and pile it onto the other clothes we're taking over to the Hawthorne's. My mother and Prim carry a small basket each filled with food to contribute to the meals for the next 48 hours, leaving me to carry the pile of little girls' clothing.

The walk is short and so familiar to all three of us that we could do it in the dead of night (and I have) but Prim still stays close to our mother and constantly looks around at me as I trail slightly behind, thinking of the last time I walked this route in the dark. I blush at the thought of meeting Gale at two in the morning to go hunting for the nocturnal creatures. The feeling of the blush in my cheeks surprises me. Gale and I have had a very close but platonic friendship for years. The thought of meeting in the dark, no matter how innocent our intentions were, somehow rouses increasingly frequent and embarrassing thoughts inside of me. Thoughts that I've been struggling to control over the past few months.

Prim calls my name. I've been falling even further behind my mother and sister, lost in a fuzzy haze of Gale and blushes. I jog a few steps to catch up to them. There are Peacekeepers everywhere on the streets making sure we're all getting to where we need to be. Once upon a time every single house had a working television, but now there are many families who crowd into each other's houses to watch the games. Those who have nowhere to go spend the day in the square, waiting for it to appear on the large screen, cold and hungry.

We arrive at the Hawthorne's and walk inside without knocking. Hazelle is expecting us and she envelops Prim and my mother in a hug.

"The kids are out back." She informs Prim, who grins and carefully places down the basket of food before going to see her friends. Hazelle hugs me next and looks down at the bundle of fabric in my arms.

"For Posy." My mother explains, and begins doing something with the food in the kitchen.

"Oh, Katniss" Hazelle gushes, taking the t-shirt I had just fixed from the top of the pile. "You shouldn't have."

I feel awkward and my ears begin to get hot as a stutter out a "it's fine" and a "well, they don't fit us anymore".

Hazelle knows me well, perhaps even better than my own mother, and stops being so grateful at my discomfort. "Thank you." She states simply and gives me another hug.

"Your welcome." I smile. I'm about to ask where Gale is when Hazelle beats me to it.

"He's in mine and Posy's room" she nods over to the door. I must have a confused look on my face because she adds, "He's fixing one of the drawers in there."

"I'll take these through, then." I say and she gently pushes me in the direction of her room.

I walk over to the closed door and briefly wonder if I should knock. I decide there's really no point but even as I open it, I get a weird feeling, like I'm intruding being in Hazelle's room. Gale is sat cross-legged on the floor of the room, in front of the chest of drawers, pulling the middle one in and out. On hearing me enter, he looks up.

"Hey, Catnip." He grins, and I find myself grinning back, overwhelmingly happy that he's here, even though I was expecting him. "I'm just finished." He replies to my silent question.

I close the bedroom door with my foot and place the pile of clothes down onto the chest of drawers, which Gale leans against.

"What are…?" he begins to ask of the clothes by I cut him off with a hug. He stops talking and hugs me back, tucking my head under his chin and kissing the top of my braid. "You okay?" he mumbles into my hair. We hug fairly often, more often recently, but this sudden outburst of affection takes him by surprise.

I nod, and breathe him in deeply, savouring the smell of pine needles and just Gale. We stand like this for a few minutes, rocking slightly and Gale running his fingers up and down my back. "It's going to be today I bet." I say quietly, thinking of the impending death of five young people in that horrific arena.

"Yeah, or tomorrow." Gale suggests. He pulls away from me slightly, still keeping his arms around my waist.

"I'm so glad it's not you." I can't help saying it. I don't intend to, but thinking of those kids being murdered in the capitol gives me an overwhelming sense of gratitude that Gale is here with me, and that at 18 he never has to risk going there again. The thought of him having to eventually go down the mines like our fathers is quickly forced from my mind when Gale speaks into my hair.

"I'm glad it's not you either, Catnip." He mumbles.

I ruin the moment with an "It still might be." Murmured into his chest.

"Don't say that." Gale instructs, lifting my face so that our eyes meet, his grey and stormy. "Please" he begs, "do not say that."

I'm taken aback by his seriousness so much that I just agree to his request without any argument; not what my stubborn nature would usually allow. "Okay." I say quietly, and he rests his chin atop my head.

We're quiet for a few seconds until Gale speaks. "What did you bring?" he asks, looking at the clothing, changing the subject.

I smile gratefully at the alteration in our conversation. "They're for Posy. Just some stuff that doesn't fit Prim that we kept a hold of. Thought they might do for Posy."

"That's kind." He smiles.

"It's nothing." I assure him, shrugging.

Gale grins at me and pulls away completely. I'm somewhat saddened at our lack of physical contact until he takes my hand and pulls me over to sit with him on Hazelle and Posy's bed. He scoots back so that his back is against the wall and his legs can stretch across the width of the bed. I go to settle next to him but he pulls me onto his lap.

My cheeks flush at the gesture and I smile shyly at my best friend. It's weird because I've sat on his lap before, a lot. When out families get together I often perch on his knees so that someone else can have a seat, but this is different. For one, there's more than enough room for both of us, and secondly, we're on a bed. Somehow that makes this whole situation much more intimate. Thinking this makes me blush even more.

When I look up at Gale for the second time, he's wearing a rather worried expression on his face.

"Is..is this okay…I mean, I should have asked…um." He stutters, scratching the back of his neck.

I can't help but grin at his adorableness. "It's fine." I confirm, and in a sudden wave of bravery I shift even further up his lap so there's only a few layers of fabric between the most private parts of us.

He gulps, and places a hand on my thigh. "Is this…?" he asks, slowly moving his hand up my inner leg.

"Yeah." I breathe, feeling a sudden warm sensation flutter in my stomach at his unfamiliar actions.

We watch each other for a little while. Gale gently runs his fingers up my inner thigh and I allow my hands to roam underneath the hem of his navy t-shirt. I allow my fingers to touch each one of his toned muscles in turn, gradually making it higher up his body. He gasps at the feeling of my fingers on his bare skin and I smile, proud I can elicit such a reaction from him even though this is my only experience with this variation of activity.

Gale stops touching my leg and stills my hands with his own. I look up at him questioningly, worried that I might have done something wrong. "Y-you might need to move off my lap if you keep doing that." He says, grinning sheepishly.

I smile devilishly, realising I have in fact done the opposite to something wrong, and make a move as if I am about to stand. Instead I simply readjust my position on his lap, grinding myself against his crotch. Gale hisses and swallows thickly.

"Katniss…" he warns but this only encourages me and I slip a hand back up his t-shirt.

Gale rests a hand on my thigh and the other on my back, an indication that any reluctance he previously had to our position is now gone. I lay my head on his chest and watch the mound of my hand hidden by the navy fabric, travel up his torso. I bite my lip when my thumb finds his nipple and I circle it a couple of times. His groan sends a sudden throb between my legs, which is only increased when I feel him move under me, growing hard.

"Can I?" He asks, moving his hand from my clothed thigh, under my own top. I nod, my own hand stilling in on his chest. Gale pushes a thumb in the top of my pants and I gasp. He stops at the sound but I look up at him and silently plea him to continue his voyage. He does.

He undoes the button on my dark jeans with his nimble fingers, keeping his thumb under the hem. He moves his hand slowly down, taking the zip with him. It's nothing like I've ever experienced before. I'm somewhat familiar with the throb and growing wetness between my legs, but a lack of privacy and experience has never allowed me to take touching myself any further than a few minutes of experimentation when bathing. Feeing Gale's fingers reach lower and lower is building a new coil of feelings deep in my stomach. My heartbeat increases. A calloused finger reaches lower than the others and I gasp as it catches the bundle of nerves, sending electricity buzzing through me like the electric fence. The finger dips even lower and I gasp as Gale delves in to my wetness. He kisses my temple, letting his lips linger and another finger finds my clit again. I groan in pleasure when the bedroom door flies open.

Gale retracts his hands from my jeans but keeps them wrapped around me, clasped on my lower abdomen. I'm about to rip his hands away from me in embarrassment when I realise that he's picked the lesser of two evils: someone catching us with his hands down my pants, or someone catching us in a fairly intimate hug- his hands covering my undone trousers, and my body covering his apparent arousal.

I look up from his hands on my stomach to the person in the doorway and let out a breath I was unaware I was holding, escape. Little Posy Hawthorne stands at the entrance to the bedroom with a confused look on her face. At four years old, she's simply confused as to why we're hugging on her and her mother's bed. She suspects nothing else.

"Can I help you?" Gale asks of our uninvited guest, and I'm impressed at the normalcy of his voice when I can still feel his evidence of our activities beneath my bottom.

Posy blinks and the confused expression disappears, giving way to one of elation. She bounds over to the bed, climbing on and throwing her arms around me. I automatically hug her back but Gale doesn't remove his hands from my stomach.

"Prim said you brought me new clothes, Katniss." She grins and leans forward to give me a kiss.

"Well, Prim is correct." I say and impress myself with the normalcy of my voice. "Why don't you take a look at those over there?" I point towards the pile of faded pinks and lilacs and Posy's face lights up.

She climbs off the bed and runs over to the dresser to inspect the clothes. Posy carefully lifts them down and begins opening each folded item out with such care that it almost breaks my heart. The clothes are old and worn and most of them have obvious patches and stitches in them, but Posy's eyes are wide with wonder when she asks "They're all for me?"

"All for you." I confirm and she goes back to pouring over each item.

When I'm sure she's distracted enough, I pull myself away from Gale and turn my back to her, facing him. He smirks as I zip up my fly and button my pants. I look down at his own pants and can see that the intrusion of his youngest sibling has now killed any evidence of our explorations. Mine however, is still uncomfortably wet in my underwear.

Gale lifts the fingers of the hand that had less then five minutes ago been down my pants to his lips. The throb in my underwear returns as his casually licks his fingers. I'll get him back for that, I think, as another body enters the room.

"Come on, guys. Dinner's ready." Rory informs us.

"Okay, we're coming." Gale replies from the bed.

Rory remains in the doorway as I turn away from Gale. He fixes both of us with the very same look Posy awarded us a few minutes ago. One of complete and utter confusion. "Why are you on the bed?" he asks, and I feel my eyes go wide and my face pale. Rory Hawthorne is not his innocent four-year-old sister.

"They were cuddling." Posy informs him casually, without looking at him, pulling a pink dress on over her clothes.

Rory looks at Gale, then me, then back at Gale. I follow his lead and slowly turn to Gale. It angers me to see how unaffected by this situation he looks. I'm slowly dying of embarrassment and he looks anything but.

"Cuddling?" Rory asks and I actually can't help but smile at the edge of disgust I can hear in his voice. Innocent or not, he's still very much a twelve year old boy.

"Yeah." Gale confirms, and my smile dies, as my desire to slap him becomes top priority. "We're coming, Rory." He says again and I hear Rory's footsteps as he leaves the room followed by some lighter, Posy-sized, ones.

I slap Gale on the chest. Hard. And then we follow the kids out to the kitchen for dinner.