It snowed on Christmas Eve, and Katniss spent an hour staring out her bedroom window at the falling flakes until Prim- impatient as a child now that it was time to open presents- called her to the living room. Her parents were cleaning up in the kitchen after dinner, and the girls were supposed to wait by the tree for their gift giving tradition.

Katniss spent a considerable amount of money on her family this year, now that she finally had an income to support it. She'd been so excited to see their reactions to their gifts since she bought them, daydreaming about the looks on their faces as they opened everything, but then the Christmas party happened and now it felt impossible to be happy about anything.

She got her father a pocket watch, one like her grandfather had a long time ago. For her mother, she bought a cashmere sweater that she saw her admiring on their shopping trip a few months back. Prim's gift was definitely the most expensive of all. It was an MacBook Pro, meant to replace the old laptop Katniss passed down to her after graduating.

When her sister opened it, she screamed with joy and jumped in Katniss's lap, wrapping her in a back-breaking hug. It was the first time Katniss had smiled in nearly a week. But it slipped from her face as soon as Prim curled up on the couch to set it up. Her mother volunteered to clean up the wrapping paper strewn around the room, and her father offered to help Prim with her new computer, the technological equivalent to a water boy showing the star quarterback how to throw.

Katniss took her presents up to her room to put them away. After everything was in its place, she grabbed the bag of wrapped gifts from her closet and laced up her boots. It was still snowing outside, so she pulled a sweatshirt on for extra warmth, then she went downstairs to sneak away while her family was preoccupied.

"Where are you going?" her mother asked, stopping Katniss before she had the chance to grab her coat.

"Just out for a little bit. I have some presents for friends."

"No, it's getting too bad out. You can give them their gifts another time."

No? Katniss raised her brows, readying for a fight. "Are you serious?"

Her mother acted oblivious to her annoyance, moving around her to place the trash bag near the front door. "What?"

"I'm not a child," she balked.

"You're my child," she replied, smiling sweetly, again missing how much this seemed to upset her daughter.

Katniss grabbed her coat and edged past her mother, defiantly lifting her chin to announce she would be back later. Outside, she determined that the weather was fine to drive in, so she put the bag of gifts in her backseat and scrapped the thin blanket of snow off her car windows.

Her destination was a few miles away, in one of the poorest sections of their town. She'd gotten the home address from the school's secretary, which was probably stepping outside the lines as a teacher. But this was Christmas, and Katniss couldn't stand the thought of this girl having nothing.

Madilyn was 12-years-old, and so much smarter than her grades reflected. Katniss always knew the girl's parents were probably struggling financially. It showed in her thrift shop clothes, her tattered old bookbag, and the bare minimum of supplies she had to begin the school year. Madilyn was quiet and shy, ignored by the other kids when they weren't teasing her for her weight or her outfit. Katniss tried to treat all of her students equally, but she paid special attention to Madilyn from the start because of the odds already stacked against her.

And she started looking closer during the last week of school before the holiday break, when Katniss asked her 7th period class to share any special Christmas plans. Madilyn surprised her by raising her hand, and she timidly- yet with a hint of pride- offered that she and her mother might get a tree this year. After that moment, Katniss took note of everything she could about Madilyn, from the size of the old sweater draped over the back of her chair, to the number on the worn soles of the bottom of her shoes when she stretched her legs under her desk.

Now she drove to the trailer park, finding Madilyn's address on a single-wide in disrepair. Katniss parked her car as far away from it as she could, and she trudged through the snow to take the bag of items she'd bought for her to the door. She left it on the cinder block and knocked, then ran off to hide behind a nearby tree. Madilyn opened the door a few seconds later, and after looking around and spotting the bag, she took it inside with her.

Satisfied she successfully got a few things to her while keeping her anonymity, Katniss
went back to her car and headed home. But her curiosity got the best of her on the way, and she changed direction to drive to Peeta's.

She switched off her headlights as she turned onto his street, and then she parked across from his house and craned her neck to find any sign of him through the windows. After a few minutes, the light that was on in the living room turned off, and then a second later the kitchen light switched on. She finally saw Peeta when he stopped in front of the window that was above the sink, and she watched him as he took a drink of water before walking away and shutting off the light.

Katniss thought she took Gale's breakup badly, but she was pretty much over that the next day. Now this was agony. Peeta hadn't made any attempt to contact her in the last week, and she'd been too much of a coward to reach out to him. Yet she thought of him constantly, always wondering what he was doing, who he was with, if he was thinking of her, too.

She tried to put him out of her mind, but nothing worked. She asked herself repeatedly what kind of future she thought she could have with him, aside from sex and traveling. He promised her the world, but the globetrotting would have to grow old after awhile.

He couldn't give her kids.

And she wanted them. Something she could admit to herself now was that-someday- she'd like to be a mother. This Christmas might suck, but she had far too many fond memories of holidays with her family to ever want to give that up in the future. Surrounding yourself with people you love...that was what made life worthwhile.

She stared back at the dark window and thought of Peeta, who was probably off to bed and it wasn't even 10 p.m. yet. As upset as she was with the way things ended between them, and as frustrated as she felt by the way he seemed to cut her completely out of his life, it hurt to realize that he'd probably spend Christmas all alone.

God, why was the the mushiest side of her always in control when it came to Peeta? Even when she wanted to be pissed about something, the fondness won out. Everything about their relationship stirred emotions inside of her that she once thought she might be incapable of feeling.

Madge was one of the only people who knew about what happened between them, and that meant her poor friend had to be the one to console her now. But Madge didn't know Peeta, and that meant she didn't fully understand how to help her. When Katniss told her what happened, Madge's first question was about the texts, pictures and recordings. "Oh my god, did he erase them?" she worried. "You don't think he'd use them against you, do you?"

The thought never even entered her mind, which probably meant she was being stupidly naive to boot. Madge had a horror story about a friend who was seeing her college professor, and after the man ended their relationship, he posted the nude photos she'd sent him on some porn site. Someone found out her name and linked them to her, and her life had been a nightmare since.

Katniss's own career could end in a heartbeat if Peeta was that kind of person. He had plenty of photos of just her, pictures so tawdry and indecent that she might never work as a teacher again if they got out. All he'd have to do is alert Delly to their existence, maybe show her the one of her topless and licking the cum from the corner of her mouth, and she'd be done.

Well, maybe she had considered it, the ramifications if he was that guy. But it wasn't something she lost any sleep over because she ultimately she knew he wasn't that guy.

He was a good one, smart and sweet and funny, and so wonderful with her up until the moment she blew it. All she had to say something like, "Yes, I will tell them about us someday, I just have to figure out how to do it." All she had to do was ask him for more time and patience with her and then they could have continued on as they were. Maybe they'd be together right this minute if she found it in her to say that.

But she didn't, and now her present for him was hidden under her bed, and he was probably trying to sleep just to end the day.

She took her phone from her pocket and started sending the message before she lost her nerve. She didn't want to make the first move, but more than that, she didn't want him to think no one was thinking about him today.

'Merry Christmas, Peeta.'

He returned the message mere seconds later, and she sighed in relief.

'Merry Christmas, Katniss.'

It was only when she was pulling her car back onto the street that she noticed the real estate sign in his front yard.

xxXXxx

The Christmas snow turned into a full-fledged winter storm in the following days, holing Katniss up in the house for most of her break. She was hoping for at least a two-hour delay on their first day back at school, but most of the snow had been cleared by then and they stayed on schedule.

Her body wasn't on schedule, though. She slept in 20 minutes past her alarm and had to skip breakfast in her race to get ready. Her mother offered her a travel mug of coffee on her way out, which she always did even though Katniss hated coffee. Now she was so desperate for a pick-me-up that she took it. On the way to her car, while juggling the mug and a boxful of reports she graded over break, she nearly slipped on a patch of ice in the driveway. The conditions were worse than she thought; they really should have had a delay.

She decided not to fuss with the coffee so she could focus her attention on the road. She was always a nervous drive in bad weather, but especially so when it was icy. She almost made it to the school without incident, but a few blocks away, two cars were pulled off the road after their own fender-bender. Katniss slowed as she passed, but it was a slick spot, and she slid across the line, just barely missing the front end of the first car.

That was the last thing she remembered. When she woke up, she was in bed. Her head was killing her, the pressure so intense that she immediately wished she could just fall back asleep to avoid it, and she couldn't move her left arm.

Her mother was at her side in an instant. "Don't move too much."

Katniss tried to look around without turning her throbbing head. They were in a hospital room, she realized. The last thing she remembered was driving to work, but now it was dark outside. "What happened?"

"You were in an accident on the way to school this morning. A delivery van slid into your lane and pinned you against a telephone pole. Do you remember any of that?"

"No," she said, closing her eyes to escape the harsh fluorescent lighting.

She didn't want to deal with her mother the nurse, the non-mother nurses, or the doctor who came in and asked her a series of questions while he probed and prodded her. She was diagnosed with a moderate concussion, broken arm, and dislocated shoulder, and the last thing she wanted to hear was the last thing the doctor said to her: "You'll be staying here for a few days."

Her mother kept vigil at her bedside, and her father visited after the doctor left. He had tears in his eyes as he kissed her forehead, telling her he'd never been so scared in his life as he was when the police called.

While she was thankful to have her family there, all she wanted to do was turn off the lights and get some rest. But when she heard her father mention Peeta, sleep was the last thing on her mind. She listened closely as she pretended to be unaware of her parents conversation, but Peeta didn't come up again. Hours passed as she floated in and out of consciousness. If she didn't wake on her own, usually disturbed by her mother chatting on her phone or with a colleague, then a nurse was rousing her to check in. She wanted to go home, but they said they had to monitor her. "Try to get some rest," everyone would tell her. As if she could do anything else.

"Is dad at work?" she asked her mother the next morning when she came to check in before starting her shift.

"He is. Do you want him here instead?" she asked, fluffing Katniss's pillow.

"No, that's okay."

"Well, I'll be on the next floor if you need me. And if you want your dad for anything, give him a call. He said he would keep his phone on him."

She rubbed her aching forehead and wondered if it was too early to ask the nurse for more pain medication. "I'm sure his reception is excellent."

"Actually, Peeta pulled him to work on a project so he'd be above ground in case we need to get ahold of him."

All it took was another mention of his name to get her going again. Pathetic. "Really? That was nice."

"It was pretty nice," her mother agreed fondly, which both confused and infuriated Katniss. Now she was going to soften up?

Deciding to press the issue, Katniss followed up with, "Well, Peeta's really nice." She could imagine Madge saying, 'No chill. Absolutely no chill.' How did her mother not pick up on it?

"I guess he's not so bad," she agreed with a smile, clueless as ever. She leaned down to kiss Katniss's cheek, but Katniss grabbed her hand and refused to let go.

"Mom," she said. "You need to talk to dad. About stuff at the mines."

Her mother's brow furrowed in concern. "What's wrong, honey?"

"Just...talk to dad. Make sure he's being smart and not risking anything for his job."

Her mother had to start her shift and couldn't delve in with questions, so she squeezed Katniss's hand and told her to not worry about anything but getting better. "Rest," she commanded.

After the doctor checked up on her and she ate a mediocre hospital breakfast, Katniss decided to do just that. She fell into a fitful sleep, stirring every few minutes because of her aching arm or throbbing head. And the room was too bright, with sunlight streaming through the blinds even though it was a frigid January day.

Around noon, just as she was about to nod off again, she heard the lunch cart wheeling into her room. The flowers- a large vaseful of yellow Asiatic lilies with purple iris and green foliage- caught her eye immediately. The woman who brought her the food placed the glass vase near her bedside before setting the tray of food in front of her. "These were out there all morning for you," she said cheerfully, handing the card over to Katniss.

"Thank you," she quietly said, waiting until the woman left to open it.

She already received arrangements from Delly and the school, a teddy bear from Madge and, surprisingly, a bouquet from Gale. Who else was there to send her flowers? She felt her hopes rising up as she slid the card out of the envelope. It wasn't his writing, but she figured it wouldn't be if he arranged for a florist to send it.

Katniss,

Thinking of you and hoping for a speedy recovery.

All my best,
Peeta Mellark

It was the most generic get well message imaginable. There wasn't any point in trying to decipher hidden messages or feelings from it because there were none. He even signed his full name, the height of formality.

Well, what did you expect? she asked herself. He couldn't exactly make any grand declarations of love on a card anyone could see. Beside that, whatever was going on between them was over now, so maybe the way he felt about her changed, too.

She wiped at her damp eyes and tried to find a comfortable position in the hard hospital bed, and when the nurse came in, she begged for something to help her to sleep. She had to get over him somehow. But she foresaw a slow and painful recovery, and she knew her broken bones would mend much faster than her heart.

xxXXxx

He showed up an hour later, standing in the doorway helplessly, waiting for the invite in. She wasn't sure if he was really there or a drug-induced hallucination, so she reached out for him, imagining his figure dissolving like mist before they could touch.

He walked toward her and brushed his fingers against her outstretched hand. "Hi," he said thickly. She closed her eyes, loving the sound of his voice. It had such a deep, warm timbre. She could listen to him talk forever.

"Hi."

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Her pull to him was stronger than the morphine, and she felt more lucid as he neared. "Like I was hit by a truck," she said.

"Delivery van," he corrected with a sigh. "I, uh, went down to get your dad after the police called. And he was a mess, so I drove him here. Not sure how I did it, since I was a mess, too."

"You were?"

"I've never been so scared in my life." Something in him broke and he gave in, wrapping his hand around hers and not letting go. "I saw your car, after. And you were still in the ER and I didn't know how you were-"

"Shh," she said, rubbing the back of his large hand and reveling in the feel of his skin against hers again. "I'm okay. I'll be fine."

She'd seen Peeta in tense situations before, and she knew he had a keen ability to stay cool and collected in even the most extreme conditions. He must have managed just that in front of her parents, or else they would have known there was something between them that far extended a normal fondness he might have for her as a family friend or former employee.

So he kept it together for her father, but inside he was unraveling. She knew it now as she felt his normally steady hand trembling beneath hers. And as sick as it was, a part of her was happy he felt this way because it meant he still cared.

He leaned down to ever so gently kiss her forehead, and then he stayed there for a minute, his face inches from hers as he seemed to be soaking in the moment and committing it to memory. She wanted to close the distance with a kiss, but she knew it wasn't the time or place. Not now, when he needed to head back to the mines after taking a late lunch to visit her. Not here, where her mother was finishing up her shift and there was a scorned ex roaming this very floor.

He pulled back and said he should get going, and she promised to give him a call once she was home. As he lingered at her bedside, well after saying goodbye, she gave in first and reached for him with her good arm. Their kiss was soft and brief, but it did more to make her feel better than the strongest of medications had.

And after he left, she slept peacefully for the first time since her accident.

xxXXxx

She thought she'd be happy to be out of the hospital and back home, but she only traded one confinement for another. In her room, on her bed, she passed the days sleeping away the pain. When she was awake, her thoughts raced, which did nothing to make her head feel any better. Everyone said the same thing to her, time and again- don't worry about anything but getting well. But with zero distractions, it was impossible to not dwell on all her concerns, from missing so much work to finding another car.

She passed time by texting Peeta, who was off in Arlington for a business trip, and occasionally talking to Madge and Prim on the phone. Still, she was bored out of her scrambled mind for much of her recovery time.

A few days after her return, Gale Hawthorne darkened her doorstep to visit. Her father let him in and probably spent a good forty-five minutes talking to him himself before leading him upstairs to Katniss, who was actually happy to see him because she was just that desperate.

He looked good, she realized as she watched him settle in her desk chair. He was wearing a dark sweater that hugged his long, lean frame, and as her eyes roamed over him in appreciation, she realized Peeta flipped a switch on inside of her and now she was reacting to any non-related male emanating a manliness that she was so attracted to in him. Even her ex.

Thankfully he maintained a safe distance across the room, and they traded small talk about how she was feeling and what was new in his life. She thanked him for stopping by, and he asked if she had many visitors. Katniss knew Gale well enough to know what a comment like that meant, that he was still holding on to his (right) suspicion that there was another guy. She responded with a curt no and swiftly changed the subject to his family.

As he caught her up on Rory, Vick, and Posy, he spotted her phone on the desk and picked it up. "Katniss Everdeen splurged on a 6s?" She tensed up as he turned it over in his hands and examined it.

"Come on, put it down."

He ignored her and pressed his thumb to the Touch ID, and Katniss held her breath even though she knew he wouldn't unlock it. "You like it?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's fine," she said, crossing over to him to swipe it out of his hands.

He glared up at her, annoyed. "What's your problem?"

She sat back down on the bed and held the phone protectively against her. "Grow up, Gale."

"Something you don't want me to see?" he asked, and she must have done something to indicate that he was right on the mark, because his eyes narrowed as he shook his head with disgust. "I guess the phone isn't the only thing different about you."

She flinched under his scrutiny, but he didn't let it go. "What's on it, Katniss?"

"You should probably go."

Surprisingly enough, he listened, but he stopped at the door and threw her a dirty look, one tinged with a sadness she didn't miss. "Don't be stupid, Catnip," he said before leaving.

Once he was gone, she unlocked her phone and scrolled through the last messages from Peeta. Although they were dancing around reconciliation, these texts were innocent enough. But the old photos and texts she never had the heart to delete were another story.

She closed her eyes, willing away the headache that was brewing. She wasn't sure what triggered it- her injury, or the realization that when this came out, it wasn't just her parents' reactions she'd have to worry about.

xxXXxx

"I'm cleared to go back to work in two weeks."

"Hey, that's great. But what about the car situation?"

"Well, I get a rental through my insurance. I'll start looking for something to buy once I get settled back at work. That's what I'm most concerned about now."

"That's understandable." She could hear a horn blaring in the background, and she imagined a line of cars pulled up along the curb just outside the airport. "How do you feel about driving?" he continued.

She never considered that, but the thought of being behind the wheel again soon didn't really faze her. "I think it'll be fine," she answered honestly, adding, "I could have picked you up if you asked."

"And you're crazy if you think I'd do that."

She sighed into the phone, ready to crawl out of her own skin. "At least it'd get me out of the house."

"I could pick you up," he offered casually, and she had to carefully consider it because she wasn't sure she could trust herself around him right now. She'd spent an hour the night before trying to make herself feel half as good as he used to, nearly spraining her uninjured arm before giving up in frustration. How was she going to behave herself if she was near him? Her tenuous self-control would surely lapse as soon as she saw him, felt the heat of his body, smelled the spicy hint of his cologne.

If they were going to rebuild what they had between them, then she had to make two things abundantly clear: that she was in it for the long run and that her interest in him extended far beyond the bedroom. That might be difficult to do if she pounced on him as soon as they were alone.

"You sure you're up for some company?" she asked. "Not too jet-lagged?"

"I was on the plane for an hour, Katniss."

She pursed her lips in deep thought, and convinced herself that she could behave. "I'd really like to see you if that's okay."

"More than okay," he said. "I'm almost at my car, so I'll be there in about an hour."

She heard the beep from his key fob as she agreed, and then she let him go so he could start the drive home. Now she had an hour to get herself under control, but that didn't seem like nearly enough time to do it.

Her offer to drive to the airport was a bluff, not only because she didn't get the rental car yet but also because she was ordered to keep her sling on through the weekend. That made getting ready more difficult, so she went against her doctor's advice and slipped it off just so she could take a bath and get dressed.

By the time his Tahoe rolled up in front of her house, she'd committed herself to having The Talk with him tonight. During The Talk, she'd admit that he was the one person she couldn't stop thinking about, that her feelings for him were deeper than she realized. She wanted to be with him again, any fallouts that might occur after they go public with their relationship would be a small price to pay if it meant she could be with him.

It was a carefully rehearsed speech, heartfelt in its grand declarations, but every word she planned on saying went right out of her head as soon as she opened the passenger door and saw that he was wearing a grey suit. She slid into her seat and tried to buckle up, hoping she could keep her hands to herself long enough to say how she felt, sexy suit and tie be damned.

"How long do you have to wear the sling for?" he asked, reaching over to fasten the seatbelt for her. She could smell his cologne, and when his fingers brushed against her thigh as the safety belt clicked into place, she shut her eyes in pleasure. No way was she going to last for very much longer.

"Uh, until I go back to work. How was your trip?"

It didn't seem like something he wanted to discuss in great detail, but they talked about it until they reached his home across town. The realtor sign was still in the front yard, but she didn't ask about it as he grabbed his luggage from the backseat before following her up the walkway to his porch.

"Want a drink?" he asked, putting his bag down by the front door.

"Sure."

He led her into the kitchen, and she took a seat at the table while he poured her a glass of her favorite wine. As he sat across from her with a bottle of beer, she tried to remember the first part of her speech, but nothing came to her.

"Katniss," he finally said, pushing the beer away from him and looking to her. "Where do you want to go from here?"

So he beat her to it, initiating The Talk first. Now if only she could recall how this was supposed to go. She was pretty sure that asking him what he wanted instead of confessing her own feelings deviated from the original plan. But maybe it shouldn't have been rehearsed to begin with. The words should come naturally, spontaneously. They shouldn't be memorized.

She stared down into her wine glass and tried to harness the gumption to do it, to say the only thing running through her head in that moment.

"I want to be with you."

He beat her to it, saying the exact thing she was thinking before she even had the chance to open her mouth.

"I'm crazy about you, Katniss. When I thought something happened to you, it was the worst moment of my life. All I could think about-"

"Peeta, stop," she interrupted, shutting him up immediately. It wasn't fair to let him pour his heart out again. He already did that when things ended between them, when she was too stupid to say what she felt instead of letting him walk out. "It's my turn. I've got things I want to say to you, too." If only she could remember what it was.

The persistent dull throb in her head sharpened enough to distract her. He watched in concern as she rubbed her aching temples, and his expression transformed into pity. "We don't have to do this now," he said.

"No," she groaned, frustrated with herself. "I want to. I want to be with you too, Peeta. And not for the reason you think." She was awful at this whole expressing feelings deal, but she needed him to know that he was constantly on her mind, that she was happiest when they were together. "I don't care about the sex stuff."

He raised his brows at that, and she gently shook her head, flustered. "Well, I do. But that's not all I care about. I don't want you to think I'm in this just to get off."

"I was upset when I said that-"

"But you meant it, right? Because that's how I made you feel. So let's start over. We can stay on first base for as long as it takes."

"First base?" he asked doubtfully.

"For as long as it takes," she repeated. Reluctantly, she broached the next topic. The real heart of the issue. "I'll tell them, Peeta. My parents. I will tell them about us."

He gave her a sweet, shy smile before he stood up. "You've got enough on your mind right now," he told her, coming around the table to take her hand. "Come on, let's lie down." He led her back into the living room, and she stretched out on the couch as he loosened his tie and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He motioned for her to rest her head in his lap after he sat down, and it was a testament to how much pain she was in that the move didn't trigger a single salacious thought. As she shut her eyes, he rubbed soothing circles along the back of her neck, and she sighed in contentment as the pain slowly began to ebb.

He regretfully roused her awake a few hours later; it was dark outside and her parents would be returning from work soon. Some reunion this was, she thought with annoyance. The most excitement she had this evening was a nap. She looked him over again, running her hand down his tie and taking perverse pleasure in the feel of his hard chest beneath her palm. He laughed at her slip and offered his hand to help her up. "We'll make a date for the next time you feel up to it," Peeta said to appease her. "You, me and this couch."

That didn't sound nearly as appealing now that she took a vow of celibacy, but with him in the equation, it was something to look forward to.

xxXXxx

The lingering effects of her concussion started to subside in early spring, and her arm was healing nicely, so she traded in the hard cast for a more manageable brace. But her shoulder continued to be a problem, and her physical therapist wanted her back in her sling to discourage her from overusing it.

After her weekly PT session, she decided to go straight to Peeta's, using the key he'd given her months ago to let herself in. The sling hindered her mobility, but she was set on making dinner for him, so she scrounged around in his cabinets and fridge for ideas. Steak and baked potatoes sounded easy enough, and after the potatoes were in the oven and the meat was marinating, she graded that afternoon's pop quizzes to pass the time until Peeta got off work. Bored- and stubborn to a fault- she opted to make a salad to go along with their dinner, sling be damned. It wasn't easy to chop up the vegetables with one arm mostly immobilized, but she managed through the pain. As she was putting everything into a bowl, she heard Peeta pulling into the driveway, so she cheated and slipped her arm out of the sling just long enough to throw the salad together and clean off the chopping block.

"Mmm, hello," he said, coming up behind her to nuzzle her neck as she put the steaks under the broiler. "Now this is a nice surprise." He softly kissed the outer shell of her ear, earning a smile from her as she worked, but the kisses stopped as his fingers slipped under the top strap of her sling. "You have to wear this again?"

"Doctor's orders."

"Then you probably shouldn't be moving around so much," he scolded, leading her away from the stove.

She thought he'd take over the cooking. Instead, he returned to kissing her, fixing his lips to the spot right below her ear, a move that always got her going. She craned her neck to encourage him, emboldened by the feel of him hard against her backside. When one of his hands dipped underneath the hem of her pencil skirt, she grabbed onto the countertop to steady her shaking legs.

The valiant effort to stay chaste had wavered considerably in the past few weeks. She ended most of their evenings together by breathlessly telling him to think of her later because she would be thinking about him. One night, after a series of languid kisses that had her panting into his open mouth, saying that seemed to break him. He pushed her against the front door and kneeled in front of her, pinning her with a hard stare as he wordlessly slipped off her shoes, jeans and underwear. He went down on her for nearly half an hour, holding her up by her hips as she draped her legs over his shoulders and gripped his hair with both hands. She came so hard that it triggered another headache, the first one she had that week, and he whispered his apology as he pressed his wet mouth to the smooth skin below her belly button.

"I missed you," he said to her now, his hand moving up from between her thighs to her breast.

Her willpower, whatever vestige of it remained, flew out the window. "Me too."

He pulled away from her long enough to turn off the oven and broiler, and then he scooped her up in his arms, careful not to grip her injured side. She wrapped her free arm around his neck and initiated another round of kisses as he carried her upstairs, and she knew from his delicate but deliberate touches that tonight was a turning point.

After putting her on his bed, he helped her take off the sling- a much less bulky model than the one she was fitted with at the hospital- and then he unbuttoned her blouse. She was never so nervous in her life as she was in that moment; every touch was meaningful, every caress of newly bared skin reverent. It wasn't a race to come. It was a way to tell each other how they felt without words.

"I thought about you all day," he whispered as he caressed her cheek. "Hoping to talk to you tonight. Wishing I could see you. And on my way back from work, I thought about how amazing it would be to come home to you.

"I walk in, and there you are. And it's like, instantly, everything is okay."

She pressed her forehead to his, her eyes closed. "I want to be with you tonight."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

They kissed as they continued to undress each other, their soft breaths punctuated by her occasional whimpers of pain when she bumped her sore shoulder. Trying her best to not move it, she held her injured arm against her ribs as he positioned her above him. He took her good hand and laced their fingers together as she straddled his hips, and then he guided her slowly down onto him for the first time.

It didn't hurt as much as she expected it would. All those nights exploring her with his fingers must have prepared her for this. But as she eased lower, taking more of him, there was an uncomfortable stinging that delayed any pleasure.

Not for Peeta, though. He licked his lips then bit back a moan as she started to move up and down. "Like this," he said, holding her by the hips to show her how to rock against him in a steady rhythm. "Is that good?"

She nodded, but the pain was getting more pronounced and she felt utterly vulnerable like this, despite being on top of him. He gauged her reactions, visibly reluctant to do anything to cause discomfort. "Let's try it this way," he suggested, very gently repositioning them so he was above her. He held himself up to keep from touching her hurt arm, and then he slowly pulled back to give her a chance to recover.

She never wished for full use of both hands more than she did in that moment, when all she wanted to do was embrace him tightly, her body fully pressed against his. It wasn't just a sexual, insatiable need to be near him. It wasn't about reaching the climax. It was so much more than that, but again the words to describe it escaped her.

It was embarrassing how emotional it made her. He dipped his head to kiss her, slow and sweet, and she sighed against his mouth.

He watched her closely, so focused on her that she felt even more naked than she was. "You're crying," he said softly, brushing away a tear with the tip of his nose.

"I'm okay," she promised, but he looked doubtful. "I just feel really close to you right now."

His expression softened, and three words-three dangerous words- were at the tip of her tongue. Instead of uttering them, she raised her hips to meet his light thrusts and urged him to speed up.

She wrapped her legs around him as tight as she could, her entire body taut as he moved harder. He gasped her name before coming, and she closed her eyes to try to escape a moment that was so intensely intimate that it frightened her.

After, he breathlessly asked her if she was alright. She said she was, and as she slowly trailed her fingers up and down his back, she realized it was the truth. There wasn't anything to be scared of here. Not with his warm weight on top of her, their bare skin burning together.

She waited until they were redressed and downstairs. As he took over the final touches for dinner, she came behind him, wrapping her good arm around him and pressing her lips to a spot between his shoulder blades. The words were muffled by the soft cotton of his shirt, but he still heard them loud and clear.

"I love you."

The look on his face when he spun around was entirely worth it. He smiled until his lips met hers, but he knocked her shoulder with his as he wrapped her in his arms, and she yelped. "I'm sorry," he said, dropping a kiss on her nose. She laughed, the pain already subsiding.

xxXXxx

She answered her phone to hear, "I've got a problem."

"What's that?" she asked casually. Peeta sounded as happy-go-lucky as ever, so genuine concern didn't seem necessary.

"The house sold."

"And that's a problem because?"

"Because now I've got 30 days to find a new place to live, buy it, and move in."

"Ah," she laughed. "That is a problem. Sucks for you." He told her awhile ago that he listed the house on a whim, sure it would take many months to sell anywhere near his asking price, which would provide ample time for him to find a new fixer-upper to take on. Katniss thought it sounded like a bad idea then, and now that she was proven right, it was too hard to resist gloating. "I told you so."

But she wasn't completely heartless, so she offered to help him out. They made plans to spend their Saturday together looking at houses, which spurred Katniss to have a real estate conversation of her own with her parents.

"I think it's time I start looking at apartments," she told them over dinner. Actually, she thought it was long-overdue. Now that she was back at work and had a decent settlement check from the insurance company, there didn't seem to be any logical reason to put it off any longer.

"You don't want to move out," her father said dismissively, her mother echoing him.

"I know you fear an empty nest, but it'd be good for you. It'd be good for all of us."

"Costs add up, Kitten. You should be happy that you don't have to worry about rent and living expenses."

It wasn't going to be an open dialogue there, so she let them think it was a settled issue and continued eating in withering silence. When she was alone with Peeta, driving to the meet the real estate agent at the first house on their list, she broached the topic with him.
"It makes sense for me to find my own place, right?"

His relief was palpable. "Most definitely."

"I'll be 24 in a couple weeks, and I have a good, steady job."

"All that aside, there's another issue, Katniss," he said with a derisive laugh. "Let's be honest here- your parents, while incredible people, are more than a little overbearing."

He looked over at her guiltily after he said her, probably waiting for her to get upset. While her first instinct was to always defend them, she couldn't really deny the truth to his words. "I know," she sighed.

"My parents are about as hands-off as you can get, so I'm glad you've got a family who cares so much."

"I know," she repeated. "I just hate all the sneaking around and lying. But when we tell them about us...it's going to be bad." It was always going to be bad. There was never a scenario where her parents would be understanding or accepting of her relationship with a man 15 years her senior; especially one they considered a close friend.

"So maybe it's a good idea to establish a little distance first," he suggested. "Remind them that you're an adult and you're taking care of yourself and making your own decisions."

"Yeah, I think that's exactly what I need to do." They pulled in front of a large split-level with a for sale sign in the front yard. "But let's focus on getting a place for you first."

The house wasn't what she was expecting at all. Peeta claimed to want a fixer-upper to make his own, but this one was as new and cookie-cutter as it got. The same shade of siding as every house on the block, and inside a generic open layout with no imagination or character. "What do you think?" he asked her, and she was surprised that he didn't rule it out immediately himself.

"It's awful."

He looked over at the realtor and shrugged. "Guess we're done here. We'll see you at the next one."

And the next one was the first one's complete opposite. "Isn't there a happy medium between yuppie dream home and old crack den?" she asked, eyeing the scary looking two-story from the car.

"Let's look inside," he laughed.

It was on a massive lot, no nearby neighbors to worry about, so the privacy would be nice, and it was within walking distance from the school. But it looked to be a complete rehaul otherwise, and she couldn't imagine the energy and money it would take to transform it. Ripping out all the putrid, rust-colored shag carpet would be a feat in itself.

She knew Peeta liked it, though. He clearly saw something in it she didn't, and when he looked to her for her opinion, puppy eyes wide and hopeful, she wasn't sure what to say. "I toyed with the idea of getting something more move-in ready this time," he said. "But look at all the potential here."

"Potential?"

He walked into another room, investigating the floors and ceiling. "Yeah. This isn't a load bearing wall," he said, bumping his fist against the chipped paint. "I could knock it out to expand the kitchen."

She followed him into what she assumed was the living room. "And we could put in a window here, centered with an entire wall of built-ins."

We. Something about the way he said it made her think he wasn't talking about contractors. She wondered if he was already considering it, the idea that his place could become her place. That this house would be theirs.

"Well?"

She looked around and tried to picture it. "I think it could work."

xxXXxx

She heard that sex would change things, but she wasn't prepared for how much it changed her. It was more than a craving; it was an intense hunger that she had to satisfy just so she could function normally again.

Nights with Peeta were rare, so when the opportunity presented itself, she wasn't about to give it up. She dodged her parents throughout week, then left a note on Friday informing them she had plans and she'd see them Monday. She was purposefully vague because she was tired of the lies, but she still wasn't ready to admit the truth.

The plan was to help him pack. He only had two weeks now before closing, but he'd been too busy at work to even start the process. Yet packing was the last thing on her mind as she waited for him to get home. She took a couple cookbooks from the kitchen shelf and threw them into a labeled box, but it was a half-hearted effort, one she stopped as soon as she heard Peeta at the door.

She greeted him with a passionate kiss, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and pressing herself firmly against him. "Fuck me," she said after breaking the kiss. She took his hand and moved it under her navy skater skirt, and he didn't hesitate to slip his fingers beneath her underwear to feel her.

"Jesus," he groaned when he felt how wet she was for him. The anticipation was killing her as he moved his slick fingers to the inside of her thigh to nudge her further legs apart. What she wanted, what she thought about all day, was him inside of her. She reached back to cup him through his pants, satisfied by how quickly he got hard for her every time, but she didn't want to rush anything tonight. There were things she wanted to try and she wanted to take her time doing it.

She untangled herself from him to lead him upstairs, where she shucked his shirt at the foot of the bed to savor the the feel of his hard chest. Every time he tried to touch her again, she lowered his hands back to his sides. "Not yet."

She unbuttoned her top and slipped it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Then she instructed him to lie down with his arms outstretched. She already had two ties ready at the bedside, and he looked over at them with a raised brow.

"Have you ever done anything like this?" she asked, straddling him.

"Can't say I have."

She took one of the ties and bound his wrist, then she secured the other end to the headboard post. "Okay?" she asked, letting him test it.

His muscles flexed as he tried move his arm down, and she was satisfied that the knot would hold. She repeated the same technique on the other side, and he snickered when she declared that he couldn't get away now.

"I learned to tie knots from the best," she told him confidently. "You're not going anywhere."

"We'll see about that."

She rocked back, circling her hips to rub her damp underwear against his jeans. She was so turned on by this point that she was already close to coming. "Don't move," she commanded when he tried to lift up. She pressed his body down with all her weight, using quick and sharp jerks to hit her clit and putting on a real show with her moaning.

"Fuck, Katniss. Let me touch you," he begged as she slowed down and cupped her breasts.

She ignored him as she caressed her nipples, but her own hands weren't as good as his. While he was very adept at touching her in just the right place at the right time to make her fall apart instantly, Katniss wasn't able to get herself off without a lot of effort. But that didn't mean she couldn't make him think she was doing just fine on her own now.

She arched her back and tensed up, crying out in an elaborate act that he didn't seem to buy anyway. "If you want to come, untie me," he told her.

"You're awfully cocky," she said, grinding down again. "Especially for someone at my mercy."

"I could get out of this any time," he scoffed. "But I want to see what you've got planned."

She smiled seductively as she trailed her index finger along his jaw and then over his lips. "Stop talking."

"Make me," he challenged.

She laughed as she moved off him and pulled down her panties, which she rolled into a small ball and then shoved into his mouth. He didn't put up any fight, and she settled next to him, victorious. "So what were you saying again?" He shook his head, clearly amused by her antics.

Now that she was back in control and he couldn't say anything to distract her, she allowed herself the pleasure of touching him. She started by rubbing his shoulders, which were broad and strong and one of her favorite parts of his body, and then she slid her hands down his equally impressive chest and stomach to pop open the top button of his jeans.

He was rock hard and ready, and she took her sweet time running her tongue over his length. Sticky strands of precum caught on her lips and chin, and she licked them away as she kept her eyes locked with his. Peeta usually talked her through this, something he couldn't do now that he was basically bound and gagged, but her confidence was there and she well remembered everything he ever told her about blowjobs. She worked him to the edge by using her mouth and hand in tandem, delighting in how easy it was to bring him to the precipice.

But she couldn't let him finish just yet. Every time he tensed and lifted up, pleasured moans muffled by her lacy thong, she pulled off and reprimanded him. "Haven't you heard about delayed gratification?"

He was clearly getting frustrated, almost angry over the denial she clearly reveled in, and after the third time she did it, he effortlessly spit out the panties and glared at her. "Come up here," he commanded. "Wrap your legs around my head."

"No." She fanned out her skirt around his torso as she sat back down on his stomach. He whimpered when he felt her wet and warm on his skin, and he repeated for her to untie him, which she again refused.

She admired him again from her position above him, in awe of his arms as he lightly flexed against the restraints. "Mm, this feels good, doesn't it?" she teased as she rubbed herself against his cock.

He couldn't take it anymore, and he yanked at the ties, almost effortlessly tearing them from the posts and catching her completely by surprise. She was too turned on and impressed by his brute strength to put up a protest when he flipped her over and lifted her skirt, plunging into her with one thrust. "I'll be nicer to you than you were to me," he growled in her ear.

He massaged the curve of her backside as he slid in and out of her, and she cried out, sure she could finish this way if he kept it up. "Don't stop," she begged, gripping the blankets and arching against him. He didn't. He moved faster and deeper, grazing a spot inside of her that drove her crazy.

"Wait for me," he told her, hoping to come together. His steady and sure movements grew jerky and desperate, and she clenched around him as he finally let go.

"Yes, yes, yes," she muttered, her arms and legs still trembling as he gently rocked his hips with hers a few more times. They were both breathless as he slipped from her body and curled around her, and she shut her eyes, exhausted.

"Hey, wake up," he laughed, draping his arm over her and pulling her closer. "Don't deny me the afterglow cuddle."

She mumbled that she wasn't falling asleep, but she easily could. It was something Peeta always teased her about, how quickly she was out after she came.

Sated and sleepy, she rolled over to position her head against the crook of his neck, which seemed to be shaped specifically for her. She loved drifting off while in his arms, and she nuzzled against him and sighed happily. "You know what I love about you?" he asked.

"Hmm?"

"Well, many things, actually. Everything, if you want to get technical. But I really love that you're just a big softie underneath it all."

"I'm not soft," she protested lazily, eyes still shut.

"Oh, yes you are."

She smiled as she felt him brushing back her hair. "You're the most incredible person I've ever known," he continued. "And I've never been happier."

"Mm, me too," she said, starting to drift off again. His chest rumbled with his soft laughter, but she was too tired to care. He said something else to her, something whispered so softly she didn't quite catch it, and then she was out.

xxXXxx

He gently shook her awake before dawn, whispering calmly in her ear that he had to go, that there was an accident at a mining site in another city and they were calling for help. She was still disoriented from sleep, barely processing anything he said. "Wait," she told him, frantic once she realized he was leaving. She was selfish to a fault and she didn't want him anywhere near danger, so she tugged at his hand as he tried to button his shirt. "Where will you be?"

"Central City," he said, pressing a kiss to her palm before moving away to retrieve his work boots. "Go back to sleep."

"Will you call me?" she asked pathetically. She couldn't ask him to stay, and he would still have to go even if she did, but she didn't want to say goodbye.

He promised he would, then he gave her a kiss before he went. "I love you."

They said it to each regularly now, but she wished he didn't say it just then. He could save it for when he came back. "Love you, too," she said glumly, flopping back on the bed as he left the room.

There was no way she was going to be able to sleep, so she stared at the ceiling until the sun came up, then she harnessed the will to start the day. In the kitchen, she reheated some leftovers and took them into the living room, where she turned on the television for background noise. CNN was on, a bright red banner on the top of the screen declaring breaking news. She leaned forward, her food forgotten as she watched the update on the mining explosion in a nearby county. Thirty four men were trapped and workers were racing the clock to get to them.

She turned it off and stood up, nervous energy coursing through her that she needed to work off. There was also a dull ache in her lower back that she tried to massage before she started packing, but it didn't help. As she was wrapping up glassware in the kitchen, the cramping started, and she cursed her body and its terrible timing. She rummaged through her bag for a tampon then checked her phone in case there was a missed call from Peeta. The only alert she had was a text from her mother asking if everything was okay, and she ignored it, annoyed.

The pain became unbearable a few hours later, when she was trying to box up books in Peeta's den. Realizing she couldn't take it much longer, she grabbed Peeta's nearby laptop to look up information about mixing Midol with her Tropol. The browser was open to a search for a Dr. Daniel Aurelius. It looked like Peeta already clicked on all the top links, including one for a clinic outside of Louisville. The page blurb mentioned frequently asked questions for reverse vasectomies. Curious now, she opened up the history tab. All the recent searches were about the procedure, the clinic, and Dr. Aurelius, a renowned urologist with the highest success rate in the state.

She didn't want to assume anything, and a part of her felt like she was invading his privacy by delving into the searches like that, so she opened a new tab, googled the question she meant to ask in the first place, and then put everything about reverse vasectomies out of her head.

Hours passed and her cramps were getting worse despite the medicine, and he still hadn't called her. She put the scant energy she had into packing, and she made huge progess by late evening, when her phone finally dinged. It was a text message saying he was on his way home now and he'd see her in about 45 minutes, and she read it no less than a dozen times until his car pulled into the driveway.

Peeta barely had his foot in the door before she launched herself into his arms. He stumbled backwards, holding on to her just as tightly as she held him. After a few minutes enjoying their embrace, he set her back on her feet and looked around the room. Nearly all of his belongings were carefully packed away in labeled boxes that were neatly stacked in every corner. "Katniss," he sighed. "Thank you. You didn't have to do all of this."

"It kept me preoccupied," she said with a shrug. "So what happened?"

He sat on the edge of the couch and ran his hands through his thick hair, his exhaustion evident. "Well, they're calling it a miracle. Only three men were killed, and the others were rescued in less than 10 hours. All very unexciting. Most of the reporters left before everyone was above ground."

She sat next to him and rubbed his back. "I'm sorry."

"I quit."

"What?"

"I quit," he repeated with a sigh. "I made the call on the way home. I'm done working for the mines."

"But why? What are you going to do now?"

He stood up and walked to the kitchen, conversationally asking if she was hungry. But she wanted answers, not food. Quitting a job, ending an entire career, seemed like a pretty big decision, and she wasn't sure he thought it through. He certainly never discussed it with her. And apparently there were quiet a few big decisions he wasn't discussing with her.

"There's a job waiting for me in Lexington," he explained as he reheated some pasta.

"What kind of job?" she asked skeptically. Lexington was 45 minutes away and he just bought a house on the other side of town, but the most infuriating thing about all of this was how casually he was acting. He explained that he knew a lot of people at the Mine Safety and Health Administration, that they wanted him to work for them for years. "So now I am," he said, twirling some noodles on his fork.

"And what are you going to do at MSHA?" she prodded as he chewed.

He smiled. "Well, you know all those multi-millionaires who try to make men like your dad feel grateful for earning a living wage doing work that could kill them?" She didn't bother answering. "I'm going to take them down."

"Obviously your thrilled with that prospect."

"No," he corrected. "What I'm thrilled about is the vacation I'm going to treat myself to in the mean time. You did get your passport, right?"

She started to protest immediately. Not only did she have another three weeks left in the school year, but her parents were taking the next two weeks off together themselves. There'd be no way she could leave the country with him, even if she didn't have to work. But he assured her he had a plan in place. All he needed her to do was pack a bag for next weekend, and he'd pick her up at the school on Friday and have her back in time for first period on Monday.

"Why would I need my passport for a weekend trip? Where are we going to go? Canada?"

xxXXxx

"Montreal is beautiful," he promised her, hitching her bag over his shoulder on the way to his Tahoe. She decided to go with it, but truthfully she'd rather be on the vacation her parents were enjoying right now in the Bahamas. Peeta arranged it all, claiming he had a timeshare on the beach they could have for free, saying that they deserved the honeymoon they never got. It was an elaborate ruse just to get Katniss alone for the week and by some chance it worked.

She was expecting him to drive them to the airport in Louisville, but they ended up at a small private one not too far from them. "I thought it might be kind of fun to play pilot," he told on their way to a small four-seat Cessna. "But if you don't feel comfortable with it, there's a flight leaving Louisville in two hours."

"You're going to fly the plane?" she asked with a laugh. She loved him to pieces, but this felt like it was straight out of a cheesy romance novel. And it was also terrifying. She was far from an expert traveler, but she heard about plenty of accidents with tiny commuter planes just like this. "You know, if we crash, my parents are probably going to find out about us."

"Well, the good news there is that if we crash in this, our chances of survival aren't very good." He laughed at her expression and tossed her bag in the back. "I'm kidding. And I promise you're safe with me."

There were about a million dials, gauges and buttons on the instrument panel, and she looked over at him with wide eyes as she buckled herself in. "You're sure you know how to do this?"

"I think I remember most if it." He squeezed her knee as he laughed again. "Just another joke. Yes, I know what I'm doing in. I took this very plane out a couple weeks ago for a refresher."

"You didn't tell me that," she grumbled.

"That's sort of how surprises work, sweetheart."

She shut up quick to let him concentrate, and she held her breath as they took off. "Relax," he said when they were in the air, grinning when he looked over at her.

"Keep your eyes on the road! Sky! Whatever."

But it didn't take her long to start enjoying herself. Watching him in full pilot made was actually very exciting once she learned to appreciate it. He really did know what he was doing, and he looked damn good doing it, too.

And the admiration didn't stop in the plane. Every moment during their weekend together had her falling in love with him a little more. They stayed in bed at the hotel all day Saturday, despite his protests. He wanted to show her around, wanted for her to see the city, but she only wanted to be with him.

"Hey, I have something I want to talk to you about," he said as she cuddled up next to him after their last tryst.

"Hmm?"

"You're not falling asleep, are you?"

"No. Go ahead."

"Okay," he said, acting uncharacteristically nervous. "Well, I've been thinking a lot lately about the future. Unfortunately I made some decisions long before you were in the picture, and because of those choices, we have to have this discussion now instead of later. I'm sorry about that."

"This is about your vasectomy," she said knowingly. His web search history affirmed it, but she let him think she was just that insightful.

"Yeah."

"Okay. So what did you want to talk about?"

"Do you want kids someday?" he asked, closely watching her.

Honesty was the only way to go here. "I think so."

He seemed to tense up as he looked away, and she tried to fight her mounting disappointment. "I understand that you don't," she told him. "And I don't know what to do about that, but I don't want things to change between us because of it."

"Katniss," he said softly, cupping her face in his hand. "You know you've got carte blanche to ask me anything, and there was one thing you never seemed to question. You always want to know if I've done something before, and you don't even realize that everything is a first for me here because it's with you and that's all that matters.

"You want to know something I never did before you came along?"

"What?" she whispered.

"Felt like this. Fell in love." He pressed his forehead to hers and exhaled. "I want it all with you. Everything."

It might not work, he warned her. And he'd have to do it as soon as possible to increase the chance it would. He asked her what she thought, and she didn't hesitate to tell him that she wanted him to do it.

This time he fell asleep first, and as she lay in his arms and thought about the future, she realized that now she wasn't scared of anything but the possibility of ever losing him. So she untangled herself from his body and grabbed her phone off the nearby dresser to take it into the bathroom with her.

Her mother's phone went straight to voice mail, and she bit her lip as she waited for the beep. "Hi mom," she said, her voice shockingly steady. "I hope you guys are having fun. I just wanted to check in and let you know I'm good.

"When you get home, we should talk. I've got something I want to tell you. It's...it's not a bad thing. And I hope you won't think that it is. Because I'm happy. I'm really happy.

"So when you guys get back, maybe we can have dinner together. You and me...and Peeta. And we'll talk.

"Okay, well, have fun and be safe. Love you. Bye."

There was no going back now, but she didn't want to go back anyway. She only wanted to move forward.

Only one more to go! Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and reviewing. I'm sorry I haven't had a chance yet to reply to your comments, but it means so much to hear your thoughts and I promise I'll try to respond soon. You can also find me on tumblr as everlarkeologist.

Hugs to you all!