who held your hand beneath the pale moonlight

"You know I'd escort you if I could," Peeta said apologetically, blue puppy dog eyes glancing up from the cast wrapped around his left leg to Madge's own blue eyes. "I'm so sorry, Madge."

"I feel like you did this on purpose," Madge glared at him, though there was little heat behind it and a lot more panic. "You knew this fucking ball was only a few weeks away! Really, Peeta? Did you have to show Darius up on the school ski trip?"

"Katniss was impressed," Peeta grumbled, but his cheeks looked a bit flushed, embarrassed and ashamed at letting his friend down. "Shit, I'm sorry, Madge."

"Peeta," Madge rubbed her temples with her fingertips and closed her eyes. "I honestly fail to see how you need to impress your own girlfriend. I know Impressing Katniss Everdeen has been engrained in you since kindergarten, but for God's sake, Man, you've been dating for a year!"

"I'll find you a replacement," Peeta pleaded, his hands clasping together and remaining so, even though one of his crutches fell over. "I promise!"

"You have until the end of today," Madge narrowed her eyes at her best friend, poking him in the chest. "I mean it!"

"Threatening my boyfriend, Madge?" Katniss picked up her boyfriend's crutch and tucked it under his arm. "Isn't it a little early for that?"

"Not when he's sabotaging my fucking debutante ball," Madge grimaced. "And now I sound like my mother."

Katniss winced. She went through the same thing the year before- her mother's family was well off and really wanted her to participate, though her father's side mocked the whole thing mercilessly, particularly her Uncle Haymitch, who was married to Madge's aunt, Maysilee.

Maysilee and Madge's mother, Marigold, wanted Madge to debut as well, but it took a full year to convince her, so she would be 'coming out' with the people of the year under her. She could give two shits, although her mother kept saying what a 'shame' it was she wasn't being debuted with her friends.

It was Madge's father who convinced her. "Just one night, Mad," he sighed. "Just one night to make her happy."

"Yeah, until Prom season comes up and she wants me to go to that, too," Madge retorted. "Really, Dad? E tu, Brutus?"

"Ouch." Mr. Undersee wince. "Okay, truth? If you agree to this, well, not only would you get some peace and quiet, but I would, too," he admitted with a wry smile. "What do you say, Mad? If not for your mom, then for your old man?"

Madge's was a daddy's girl at heart, through and through.

"I'll help him," Katniss said, sighing at her boyfriend, who was still giving them both his signature Puppy Dog look, "although it might be difficult, considering that a lot of girls already have the Good Escorts."

"Please don't tell me that," Madge groaned. "God, I just want someone who practices hygiene and can manage basic conversation. Oh, and if they can avoid stepping on my feet when we dance, that would be great, too, but not a deal breaker. I don't think I'm asking for much!"

Sadly, she wasn't.

Katniss looked down at her cell phone thoughtfully. "When's the ball again?" She was attending, too, to support Madge, which Madge was grateful for, especially since she knew Katniss hated these things more than Madge did (which was saying something).

"May twentieth," Madge said.

"Huh," Katniss typed something into her phone. "I think I may have someone."

000

Madge became suspicious when Katniss wouldn't tell her who she had in mind. And as she stood, tapping her toe anxiously outside of Effie Trinket's Charm School Dance Studio on a Saturday morning two weeks later, she became even more anxious.

Oh, please, oh, please, oh, please, don't let it be who I think it is.

Someone grunted behind her. "Undersee."

Madge allowed her eyes to close for one moment as she took a calming yoga breath. Of course it was him. She pivoted on her foot and swallowed. "Hawthorne."

Madge knew why Katniss thought of Gale to be Madge's date: he was a year older and studied at the state college in the city. It was doubtful any girls would've scooped him up, considering proximity alone (although really, Madge thought irritably, it was only a two-hour drive away. Not to mention by the date of the ball he would be done with classes.) Like Katniss, Gale Hawthorne was good-looking and aloof. Girls flirted with him, but tended not to be very bold in case he rebuffed them. He had girlfriends in high school, but not very many and they didn't last long. Madge's opinion of Katniss's best friend ranged from intimidating to stick-up-his-ass-rude. They tolerated each other for Katniss and Peeta's sakes, but were generally cool to each other.

Madge noticed that he glared at her a lot, leading her to think he hated her existence on principle, which she never really understood, but she gleaned it had to do with social and class privilege more than anything else. She was ashamed to say that she was too afraid to ask if that was true.

Still, it was a shock that Gale was here. She looked at him skeptically. What hold did Katniss have over him to get him to agree to do this?

"You um," Madge cleared her throat, "have any experience ballroom dancing?"

To her shock, Gale nodded, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, and Madge thought it was perhaps the first time she ever saw him look ill at ease. "A little. My mom taught me. You?"

Madge shook her head, still surprised.

"Shall we?" He said, opening the door for her. Madge blinked at him, surprised and a little bit pleased.

"Thanks," she murmured quietly, and she hoped he knew it encompassed more than just the door.

Effie Trinket was a force of nature. Madge made fun of her a lot—her ever-changing wigs, her outlandish make-up, her crazy outfits—but she envied her at the same time. She loved what she did, archaic as it was. She was in her element.

Gale and Madge were her only students that day—most of the other debutantes were light years ahead of the reluctant Madge, and way beyond the basics.

When Gale said he knew ballroom dancing, Effie immediately made him dance with her so she could assess his skills. Madge was in shock. He was good. Really good. He made everything look natural, effortless even, and Madge had never felt more inadequate in her life (and it was ballroom dancing. Give her a calculus equation or 100 history terms to memorize? Done. Piece of cake. But this?)

Effie and Gale patiently helped Madge with the basics, maneuvering her into place in Gale's arms. Madge had never felt more awkward or alive, every synapse in her firing away at the feel of Gale's broad hands at her waist and clasped with her hand. They don't look at each other, but were both hyper aware of where the other person was.

Is this sexual tension? Madge wrinkled her nose at the thought, thinking of drawn out TV shows. How had she never noticed this before? Well, to be fair, they had also never been this close to one another. Ever.

Right.

For the first time ever Madge appreciated patriarchal society because for once she enjoyed letting the guy lead in something, and damned if it wasn't ballroom dancing. There's a first time for everything, Madge thought as Effie yelled at her again for looking at her feet rather than at Gale. Yeah, like that's going to happen, Madge thought. Whether she knew the steps or not there was no way in hell she was looking at Gale Hawthorne's piercing grey eyes. No. Way.

The bell at the front door chimed and Effie left them to go see who it was. They danced in silence, the music still on, Madge counting in her head.

Gale cleared his throat. "So you gave in, huh?" He said. "You know. The debutante thing."

Madge blinked up at him, startled by the fact that he willingly started a conversation with her. "Uh, yeah," she said. "I really only did it for my dad, though," she admitted. "Mom was driving him nuts, too."

Gale smiled at her as though pleased by her answer. "That's admirable," he said.

Madge swallowed, looking at him curiously. "Thanks," she said. "Hey, I was—I mean. I'm really grateful that you're doing this for me, but, um, why?"

Gale looked away from her then, shrugged, although he still kept moving, as graceful as ever. There was something inherently unfair about that, Madge thought bitterly as she stumbled.

Madge quipped, "Katniss blackmailing you?"

Gale looked back at her, eyebrow raised. "Sure," he said finally, lips quirking up in a smile. "Something like that."

Now Madge was even more suspicious, because clearly that wasn't it. But they weren't friends. She didn't pry. "Well, whatever your reasons," Madge said, looking into his eyes for the first time that day. "Thank you. For doing this for me. I know it's really inconvenient—you still have a month left of school, so I'm sure there are a lot of other things you could be doing this weekend as opposed to spending it with me. Not to mention the drive! I mean—"

Gale's fingers pressed into her waist, lightly. Madge stopped. "Madge," he said, and Madge almost physically stopped moving, too, at the sound of her first name from his lips. "It's okay. Really. It's not even inconvenient for me. I take the train. I was coming down this weekend, anyway, for my mom's birthday tomorrow."

"Oh!" Now Madge flushed, embarrassed at her self-centered assumptions. "Oh, well, please tell her 'Happy Birthday' for me."

"Will do," he said.

"I really do appreciate it," Madge said one more time. "Especially since I know you don't even really like me."

Now Gale stopped moving, and Madge almost crashed into him. "You think I don't like you?" He asked incredulously. "Where the hell did you get that idea?"

Madge cocked her head at him. "You used to glare at me all the time," she said accusingly. "I saw you. And whenever we all hung out with Katniss and Peeta you never talked to me, or if I tried to talk to you, you'd just grunt answers at me. And if I sat anywhere even remotely near you, you'd get up and walk away." She shrugged. She used to be hurt about it, but now she was just puzzled. "It's always been obvious."

Gale said nothing, just gaped at her.

It was then that Effie returned, rebuking them from ceasing to practice. "It's going to be a very, very big day next month!" She chirped. "We must get you in tip-top shape!" She smiled warmly at Gale. "Not you, dear, you're a natural." She sighed at Madge. "You, on the other hand…"

They didn't speak the rest of the session, and when they parted, they did so silently with just a wave.

000

She did look pretty, Madge admitted. Her mom and aunt did a good job, from her hair to her dress to her shoes to her make-up. They pushed her into this, sure, but when it came to everything else, they knew what she liked. Simple, white dress with a sweetheart neckline and a skirt, though full, but not poofy. The bodice glittered, fading down into the skirt, but otherwise it was simple. Her hair was in soft waves, down, and her make-up highlighted her good features while still making her look natural. Her shoes were pretty, but comfortable, Thank God.

Madge bit her lip. She wasn't nervous about the event at all. This wasn't her event, her dream, and that was okay. It was just one night. But she was nervous about seeing Gale, which was weird, considering they spent every weekend leading up to the event together.

She hadn't counted on seeing him again until tonight. His duty was nearly done. They danced, she knew the basics, knew how to move with him, was familiar with him. It was fine. But Katniss must've given him her number, because he texted her Friday night, saying he was coming down again that weekend, and if she wanted to practice some more?

Hesitantly, she agreed.

They didn't talk about what she said to him that first day, but Madge noticed that Gale spoke to her more. He smiled. They went and got ice cream after their hour-long session with Effie, who was delighted they came back.

Madge was surprised to discover they had a lot to talk about. Gale told her about college, and Madge told him about her choice, a private school in the city as well—her father's alma mater. She got a good scholarship there and they had a lot of good programs; and no, she didn't know what she wanted to study. Gale was studying political science and laws, society, and justice. He was thinking about environmental law.

He was the first person in his family to go to college, and Madge confided that she wanted to be a career woman, instead of like the other women in her family.

"I really admire my mom and aunt for being homemakers," Madge said, "but I don't think that's for me."

"You don't want a family?" Gale looked at her intently.

"I do," Madge said, "but I want more than that. I want a career before that."

Gale smiled. "There's nothing wrong with that," he said.

"I don't think so," Madge had insisted. "But, well, my mother probably wouldn't see it that way."

"Obviously," Gale said, referring to the debutante ball.

"She's a bit old-fashioned," Madge sighed. "A true Southern belle, through and through."

He kept surprising her, coming down every weekend to practice with her. "Don't you have finals?" Madge asked him as they exited the dance studio one Saturday.

Gale shrugged. "Brought my books with me," he said. "I study on the train. Can't study at school very well—dorms are loud. Libraries are crowded. It's nice, being back here. Peaceful. I can get a lot done."

Madge didn't ask anything more. Seemed reasonable enough, but she didn't think that was the whole truth. Katniss really had something on him, Madge thought, to make him come back here every weekend.

But she enjoyed his company too much to try and drive him away. There was something delightfully easy about being with him. And somehow, she knew, by the way he smiled at her, that he enjoyed her company, too.

The night would go like this: the girls lined up at the top of the grand entrance to the town's snooty Country Club and would go down elegantly, like they practiced, where their escort was waiting for them at the bottom. Once everyone was down, they would eat dinner and then dance, all of the debutantes and the escorts dancing a traditional ballroom waltz for the opening number. After that, anyone could dance (or, as Madge saw it, getting the hell out of there).

Luckily, Madge also practiced walking up and down stairs in her dress and heels for the past several days, so she felt confident in that respect, but when she saw Gale waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her, with the eyes of everyone on her, she felt nervous. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Katniss in her signature red color and the blinding white of Peeta's brace against his tuxedo pants, but all she focused on was the intense grey of Gale's eyes as they watched her, hungrily, as she descended the stairs. That sexual tension had risen to something akin to a roar within Madge, something wild and unable to ignore. Every time they danced and touched, it became worse. Madge never realized how intimate dancing was. His hips moving with hers, her fingers digging into the breadth of his shoulders, his hand flexing at her hip, sometimes pulling her minutely closer. It was torture, a new level of Hell, Madge decided, but damn if it wasn't wonderful at the same time.

Reign in it, sweetheart, Madge told herself. Yeah, he's hot as hell, and he's been nice to you for the past several weeks, but that doesn't mean anything. He doesn't actually want to be here.

It's hard to keep saying that, though, when once she gracefully descended and put her hand through his arm, he bent down and whispered, "Pretty dress, Undersee."

He didn't even have to call her beautiful and her mouth went dry.

She was in big fucking trouble.

000

They're the best dancers in the room, by far, and Gale was grinning from ear to ear, and so was Madge. Ha! Take that snooty, arrogant little bitches, who were glaring at her vehemently from over their dates' shoulders.

"They ignored me during all the practices," Madge murmured to Gale gleefully. "Didn't think I should've been there. They called me old, Gale, and I'm only months older than them! And, of course, now they hate me because of you."

Gale raised his eyebrows. "Don't blame me just because I'm exponentially better than all of their dates."

Madge giggled. "Excellent word choice. I see you've made the most out of your college tuition dollars."

"Had to make sure I could keep up with you," Gale quipped, and Madge cocked her head at him. There was a double meaning there, she was sure of it.

The night was winding down and Gale and Peeta went to get the cars while Madge and Katniss talked. Gale offered to drive Madge home, and while she would've declined otherwise, her mom and aunt were nothing but two rivers of waterworks, reminiscing about how beautiful Madge looked and their own debutante balls, and she didn't want to be stuck in a car with them (sorry, Dad and Uncle H!)

"Looks like you and Gale had fun," Katniss smirked in that knowing way of hers.

"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask you about that," Madge said. "You have to tell me."

Katniss blinked. "Tell you what?"

"You know," Madge rolled her eyes, "the dirt you have on Gale! Come on, it has to be something good, if you blackmailed him to be my date and come down here every weekend for a month and a half to practice ballroom dancing with me."

Katniss's eyebrows rose. "You think it's blackmail?" She said. "Has he told you nothing?"

"Told me what? Come on, that's why I'm asking you!"

"I could've sworn he would've told you by the way you two were looking at each other tonight," Katniss muttered to herself, before looking at Madge again. "No way. He needs to tell you himself."

"Tell her what?" Gale said, coming up from behind them.

He really needed to stop doing that, Madge thought sourly for a moment.

"Madge thinks I blackmailed you into being her date," Katniss said abruptly, clearly ten thousand percent done with this bullshit. "Please set her straight, because I'd rather set myself on fire than continue to listen to you rant and mope about this."

"Rant and mope about what?" Madge said, starting to feel frustrated. She turned to Peeta, who looked at her wide-eyed. "You!" She pointed a finger at him as he frantically shook his head, but his eyes screamed betrayal. "You're in on this, too?"

Katniss rolled her eyes, and lowered Madge's hand. "You can threaten him at school on Monday," she promised. "But for now, we're leaving and you should, too."

It was a silent walk to the car for Gale and Madge as Katniss and Peeta drove away and Madge waited patiently until they were in his truck before she looked at him expectantly.

He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. He was nervous, Madge realized, recognizing the habit.

"Remember when you told me you thought I disliked you all these years?" Gale said.

"Vividly," Madge deadpanned. Gale shot her a look and she sighed, softening. Humor was a defense mechanism for her, just like scowling was for him and Katniss. Clearly. "Yeah, I do."

"Well… that wasn't exactly true."

"What do you mean, 'exactly?'"

"I mean, it wasn't true. At all. As in… I really just had a crush on you. For ages."

Madge gaped at him as he looked straight ahead, keeping his eyes resolutely on the road as he left the Country Club. "Ages?"

Gale nodded. "Years. Since uh, you were a sophomore in high school, I think?"

"But… but…" Madge stammered. "The glaring and the grunting, and the moving."

Gale shrugged. "You made me nervous," he said. "I didn't know how to talk to you. I had to physically get away from you to prevent embarrassing myself. You were so above me it was ridiculous."

Madge snorted. "And now I'm not?"

Gale looked over at her with a grin. "You're perfect," he declared so sweetly her ears turned pink. "I don't know. I became more confident in myself. Getting into college really helped. I started to see myself as more than some arrogant jock who got by on his looks and charm," he shifted uncomfortably, because for a good majority of high school that's who he was. "Wanting you… I don't know. It gave me something to strive for. Not that I think of you as a prize to be won, like an object, but… I guess I wanted to be someone you could respect. And, I guess, more importantly, someone I could respect."

He was blowing her mind. She hadn't imagined a Gale Hawthorne like this. Articulate and sensitive and self-aware. To Madge, it was seriously as sexy as the width of his shoulders and the hard line of his jaw.

"Why now? Why tell me now?" Keep asking questions, Madge thought. It would save her from having to react. She needed more time to process everything.

"You were kind of right with the blackmail," Gale said, amused. "I wasn't planning on doing anything about my crush on you, honestly. I thought I missed my time, anyway. But Katniss threatened that if I didn't tell you how I felt than she would, and I figured, well, if I have to do this, I want to do this on my terms. I would fight for it, instead of just a confession." He tightened his hands on the steering wheel. "So here I am."

Here they were. Madge glanced over at him in the darkness. In a lot of ways, he felt like a stranger, like there were two versions of him that she knew: the one from a year ago, and the one from right now. She was attracted to him, sure, and she liked him as a person, but she didn't know how deep her feelings went—she didn't know how deep his went. He was talking like Peeta here, with the amount of time he spent liking her. It was scary as hell. (How the hell did Katniss deal with this?)

But the real question was, did she want to explore those feelings? Did she want to find out for herself?

There were a lot of questions in life, many of them hard, but luckily for Madge this one was easy.

"You're home for the summer now," Madge said, taking one of his white-knuckled hands off the steering wheel and lacing it gently with hers. "Maybe you can take me on a proper date next weekend?"

Gale's smile lit up the night. "Of course," he said, and when he kissed her at her front door, his hands warm and sure at her face and waist, Madge felt like they were dancing again, whirling around the ballroom, but the best part was, the only two people around were each other.