Science vs. Romance

Katniss Everdeen is twenty-two years old, slinging burgers and beer at Hawthorne's Bar and Grill the day the vampires come out of the coffin. It's a Tuesday, the dinner rush just ending, and the whole restaurant goes silent as a graveyard as the woman on the flatscreen over the bar - mid-50s, stiff gray hair, pale skin - opens her mouth. Two perfect, shiny, pointy white fangs pop out beneath her upper lip. The words ALMA COIN, VAMPIRE pop up from the bottom of the screen.

Delly Cartwright, the other waitress on shift, falls to the floor in a dead faint.

"I'ss a trick," Earl Fairchild proclaims loudly, sloshing his beer onto the table, looking around the bar wildly. Cut off, Katniss makes a mental note. "April Fool's'r somethin', right?"

"It's October, Earl," someone says from the back of the room, and a few people snicker. For the most part, though, the patrons are frightened. Several are crying. Their thoughts rise up in Katniss' head, a jumbled chorus of panic and fear and confusion so overwhelming that she has to brace herself against the counter of the bar.

Beneath the cacophony of voices crowding her mind, Katniss herself feels strangely indifferent. Like somewhere in the back of her mind, she always knew this was coming.

Right now, though, the only thing she's sure of is an oncoming migraine. "Somebody better wake Delly up," Katniss sighs, untying her apron. "I'm going on break."

Life in Bon Temps stays pretty much the same, at least at first. Some say it's because no vampire in his right mind would hang around a backwater like this when he could go anywhere, do anything, for all of eternity. Others say it's because fangers know they ain't welcome 'round these parts.

Katniss agrees with the former and rolls her eyes at the latter, but she wastes no time buying Prim a little spray can of liquid silver, and wooden bullets for her shotgun just in case.

As fate would have it, the very first vampire Katniss meets is someone she already knows. Though maybe someone she knew is the better way to phrase it.

Peeta Mellark was one of the only kids in their year to go to college, and the only one to do it out of state. Vanderbilt University. Nashville. Off to become a doctor or a lawyer or something else better than a baker's son on the bayou.

So why he's walking into Hawthorne's on a Thursday night at the end of her shift, she can't imagine. Katniss hasn't even seen him since the summer after they'd graduated high school, and that was what, seven years ago? But here he is, hands in his pockets, ambling over to a corner booth alone.

Katniss feels nervous, but can't pinpoint why. It's just Peeta Mellark. They weren't friends. They'd barely spoken to one another for eighteen years. She grabs one of the plastic menus and strides over to his table.

She's ready to just throw the menu down on the tabletop and leave, but his eyes stop her. They're bright blue, brighter than she remembers, and it feels like they can see all the way into her soul. She freezes, her left hand pressing the menu against the table.

"Hey, Katniss."

She swallows. "Hi Peeta."

"Been a long time, huh?" He's still got the same crooked smile, the same perfectly straight nose, the same dimple in his left cheek. But something feels off. His eyes are bluer, his hair is blonder, his skin is paler. He's...more. She can't explain it.

"Yeah, real long time."

"How've you been?"

"Fine."

"Still chatty as ever, I see." He grins, and she frowns back, narrowing her eyes. He laughs. Same laugh, she thinks, though she's not sure why she'd even know that. "I'm sorry. I'm just teasing. It's just been so long since I've been back home and, you know, I can't believe how nothing's changed."

Katniss just nods, slipping her hand into the pocket on the front of her apron to dig around for a pen, her notepad, anything to anchor her back to the ground. Her fingers close around a pin - a little bird pin Prim gave her for her birthday last year. She rubs it, and the motion is soothing until she pricks her finger on the sharp point sticking out through the latch.

"Ow," she mutters. "So, um, I'll get you a glass of water?"

Peeta shifts uncomfortably, his eyes bouncing back and forth from her face to the front of her apron. "Actually, I'll have a...a TruBlood."

Katniss blinks. She must not have heard him right. "Sorry, I didn't catch that."

He purses his lips, then shifts a little closer to her, leaning forward. "A TruBlood," he says, his voice low.

"Oh." Katniss stands still as it hits her. "Oh."

Peeta chuckles a little, looking down at his hands on the tabletop. "Yeah."

She's got a million questions racing through her mind, but Katniss Everdeen isn't one to ask questions. "Okay. Let me see what we've got." She hesitates. "Is there a, um, particular...type that you prefer?"

Gale had bought a couple different kinds when they'd first become available in six packs, and they'd joked about the "flavors." "Maybe O negative is like a wheat beer, and A positive is a stout, or something," he'd suggested, and Katniss had giggled.

"So which one would we serve? Is there a Bud or a High Life?"

"AB negative. The champagne of bloods." She'd nearly fallen over laughing.

Now it's a little less funny, with a real-life vampire in front of her, one who'd probably just as soon rip open a vein and drink her own blood as he would throw back the synthetic stuff.

"Um, B positive, if you have it," Peeta says shyly. "Thanks."

Katniss heads through the swinging gates into the back, where the kitchen and the walk-in and Gale's office are. "Gale?" she calls out shakily.

"I'm here," he calls out, and she walks quickly into the office, shutting the door behind her. He looks up at her expectantly from where he sits at the desk. "What's up?"

"We, um..." Katniss struggles to keep her voice level. "We got any TruBlood left?"

"Well yeah, we haven't sold a single...wait." Gale stands up. "Is there a vampire in here?"

She nods her head emphatically.

"I'll be damned." Gale shakes his head. "Well, I guess I should go say hello, being it's the first vampire we've had and all."

"Wait." Katniss stops him with a hand against his chest. "Gale, it's...Peeta Mellark."

His eyes widen in shock. "Peeta Mellark? He's a vampire?"

"Yup."

"How'd that happen?"

"I didn't ask."

"Wow." Gale folds his arms over his chest, looking thoughtful. "The golden boy goes off to college...comes back a vampire. That's crazy."

"Yeah. I know. But right now he's waiting on a TruBlood, so...we still got any?"

"Yeah, we do." Gale opens the door behind her and gestures for her to exit first. "It's back in the walk-in somewhere...I'll go find it. You just go out there and...I don't know. If you were Delly I'd say be nice, but we know that's not gonna happen."

Katniss sticks her tongue out. "He wants a B positive," she calls after him. Gale shudders a little.

"Coming right up."

It turns out they don't have a B positive after all, but Peeta accepts his "champagne of bloods" graciously.

"My shift's over, but you can pay at the bar when you're done," Katniss tells him.

"Would you like to join me?" He gestures to the empty seat across from him.

Katniss weighs her options. Normally she doesn't stick around after work is over, eager to get home, hang out with Prim, take a bath, and go to bed. But she's never met a vampire before, and she's curious as hell how Peeta Mellark of all people ended up turned into one.

"Okay," she says finally. "Let me go grab a coke."

They keep the conversation light. Peeta asks about life in Bon Temps, how their old schoolteachers are doing, which couples got married and popped out babies, what happened to the guy at the gas station who used to sell beer to any kid who flashed him an index card with their name on it. Then he tells her about Nashville, how overwhelmed he'd been moving there from a place like this.

Katniss studies him as he speaks, tries to categorize the differences between this Peeta and the one she knew in high school. She isn't sure which changes resulted from the passage of time, and which resulted from being turned. She can't even tell how old he is, because she doesn't know how long he's been a vampire. He definitely wasn't turned right away - he's a little taller, a lot broader than he was as a teenager.

But his eyes aren't really bluer and his hair isn't really blonder, she realizes; they just look that way because his skin is so much paler in comparison. She feels stupid for not noticing it right away. And then she realizes: she can't hear Peeta's thoughts.

At all.

It's not like she lives with a steady stream of chatter from every person in a 20-foot radius running through her head, but it does take some effort to block it all out. There's always a little part of her that's humming along, making a conscious effort to keep her mind to herself. Working in a crowded bar gets exhausting, but she can't support herself and Prim on the game she hunts on weekends. It's too bad, because the forest is her favorite place, quiet and serene. There are never any people out there, and she can't hear animal thoughts.

Nor vampire thoughts, apparently.

She notices he's looking at her expectantly, like he just asked her a question, and she blinks. "Sorry, I zoned out for a second. What was that?"

Peeta shakes his head, looking down at the tabletop where he picks at a scratch in the wood. "It's okay, nevermind." They're quiet for a moment, Katniss' straw slurping loudly as she takes a last sip of soda. "I guess you're probably wondering how I ended up like this."

Yes! her mind screams. "No," she says out loud. "Not at all." She might not be the friendliest girl in Louisiana, but you don't grow up in the South without learning some manners.

He smiles. "It's okay. I'd be curious too." He picks at the label on his bottle studiously. "It wasn't intentional. I was at this concert...Effie - she's my maker - she wanted a drink...she chose me." Peeta's hands still. "She went a little too far, so it was turn me or leave me to die. And she did the right thing."

Katniss pushes her glass a few inches away and rubs her fingertips in the condensation it leaves on the table. "I'm sorry."

Peeta snorts. "Don't be. I'm going to live forever, what have you got to be sorry for?"

Katniss shrugs. Maybe he's right. Thirty years from now she'll still be working in this bar, too old to even get good tips anymore, and Peeta will be as young and strong and handsome as ever. "When did it happen?"

"About three years ago. It was just a few weeks before the Great Revelation." He smiles sadly. "If we'd been revealed just a couple weeks earlier, Effie wouldn't have had to drink off someone in secret. And I'd probably be human right now." He tilts his head. "But then I wouldn't be sitting here with you right now, so I guess there's always a trade off."

Katniss isn't quite sure what he means, but it makes her face flush, so she changes the subject. "What are you doing back here, anyway? You're literally the first vampire in town since the Revelation. Shouldn't you be in New York or Paris or something?"

"Well, being a vampire doesn't mean I'm rich," he points out. "My parents are retiring, and they were going to sell the bakery, but I told them I wanted to take over instead. So they transferred ownership and...here I am."

Katniss remembers Peeta's parents, especially his mother, who was so cold and dismissive when Katniss would bring Prim to the bakery with their pittance of a weekly allowance to buy cookies or a cupcake. "They're cool with you being a vampire?"

Peeta looks down at his hands, and she knows that he'd be blushing right now if there was any blood flowing through his body. "Ah, no, not exactly. But the papers were all signed by the time they found out."

She looks at him in disbelief. "They didn't know?"

"We're not close," he says shortly. "But it's perfect, really. Most bakers get to work before the sun rises, anyway, so I can just spend the last couple hours of night baking the day's goods, and then hire someone to sell them after sunrise."

Katniss nods. A vampire baker. Weird.

"What's it like?" she blurts out before she can stop herself. "Sorry," she adds quickly. "You don't have to answer that."

"No, it's okay." Peeta shrugs. "I mean, in some ways it's cool…I'm stronger, faster." Both things she'd heard about vampires. "I'm way better in bed." He grins, and she looks away, embarrassed. She'd heard that about vampires, too.

"It's not all great, though," he admits, his tone growing wistful. "I can't smell the breads and cakes I bake anymore…I mean, I can smell them, but it means nothing to me. They don't smell good anymore."

Katniss doesn't ask what does smell good – she's pretty sure she already knows.

They fall into silence, until deep yawn overcomes her and she sighs. "Well, I should head on home. It's late."

"Oh." Peeta nods. "Yeah, me too, I should get going," he says, though she gets the distinct sense that he doesn't have anywhere to go, not really. It must be kind of lonely to be a vampire in a town full of humans, she realizes. "It was nice catching up with you, Katniss."

"It was," she agrees, surprised to find she actually means it. "Goodnight."

It's a little after midnight when Katniss gets home, and Prim is still up, sitting at the kitchen table with a textbook propped open on her lap. After a few years of scrimping and saving they'd finally gathered enough cash to enroll her in an online university, with the plan of eventually transferring to LSU to finish out her degree. "You're home late," Prim remarks with a note of curiosity, flipping to a new page.

"Well, it's not every night a vampire comes into Hawthorne's."

Prim's jaw drops open, her schoolwork forgotten. "No way. A vampire? Are you serious?" Katniss is a little dismayed at how enthralled her sister seems by the prospect - it's not the safest attitude to have towards vampires, in her opinion. "Guy or girl? What did they look like?"

Katniss pours herself a glass of water from the fridge and settles at the table across from Prim. "Do you remember Peeta Mellark?"

Prim looks even more shocked, if possible. "You're kidding." Katniss shakes her head. "Oh my god. Peeta is a vampire?"

"Yup."

"That's so weird. Did you get to see his fangs?" Prim flashes her a wicked grin.

"No," Katniss says firmly. "I did not see his fangs."

"I bet he'd show them to you, if you wanted. He always liked you."

Katniss nearly spits out her drink. "That's not - what - I don't even know what you're talking about. It's late, Prim. Go to bed." Gulping down the rest of the water, she drops the empty glass in the sink and storms off to her bedroom.

Prim's laughter follows her up the stairs. "I'm twenty-one years old, I don't have a bedtime!"

"Just do it!" Katniss yells back. Prim was so much easier to deal with when she was twelve.

All the next day, Katniss wonders if Peeta will be back at Hawthorne's that evening. Not for any personal reason; just because it's a Friday, and the bar won't be near empty like it was the night before. Peeta might not be the most welcome patron to some of the regulars.

Although she's working the late shift, he doesn't show up. Not Saturday night, either. But Sunday night, as she's leaving for the evening and locking the front door to the bar behind her, she turns around to find Peeta standing in silence just a few feet behind her. She almost has a heart attack.

Katniss shrieks before she can process who it is, falling back against the door. Peeta takes a few steps back himself. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he says quickly, holding up his hands.

"You didn't make any noise," she gasps, catching her breath.

"Yeah, when we move fast we can kind of...float," he explains, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He looks up over her head, where the neon OPEN sign has just flickered off. "I guess you guys are closed?"

"You'd guess right," she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

Peeta sighs. "Is anything else open right now?"

"At eleven o'clock? The Walmart out in Minden, maybe." His face falls, and she softens. "It's a Sunday in the Deep South, Peeta," she reminds him gently.

"I know, I know," he says. "I didn't really think about the lack of...nightlife when I decided to move back here."

Katniss shifts, hitching her purse up over her shoulder. "This must be breakfast time for you right now."

"Brunch." She cracks a smile.

"Well, good luck finding something." Katniss moves past him, heading for her car, but his voice stops her.

"You could keep me company."

A shiver rolls down her spine. Peeta's voice is low and carries the slightest hint of…suggestion. Katniss licks her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. She keeps forgetting that Peeta isn't Peeta Mellark – wrestling champ, straight-A student, the sweet boy who held open the door for her in the hallways at school – anymore. He's a vampire. He's dangerous.

She doesn't know what makes her do it, but she takes a step back towards him. "I don't know," she says slowly. "Prim's at home alone."

"How old's she now?"

"Twenty-one."

Peeta smiles. "Aw, c'mon. She doesn't need you to tuck her into bed."

He's just standing there, hands casually tucked into his pockets, but she feels drawn to him somehow. "Okay. Where do you want to go?"

Peeta shrugs. "Your choice. I've got all night."

They park at the edge of the woods that border the east side of town, sitting side by side on the hood of her car, the leaves of an old live oak tree dangling just out of reach over their heads. Peeta talks about his plans for the bakery and Katniss talks about her plans for Prim, and when she yawns and says it's probably time to head home, he leans over and kisses her.

Her instinct is to pull away, break contact before his thoughts can flood her mind like they're her own. But his voice never enters her head – vampire, she remembers somewhere deep in the back of her mind – and after a few moments she relaxes, opening her mouth to deepen the kiss.

She can feel the quiet rumble in the back of Peeta's throat as he shifts closer, tangling his fingers in her braid, his other hand slipping around her waist. His lips are cool, but they're also soft and full and sure against her own, and they slowly grow warmer from the friction of her own hot mouth moving against his.

He's one of the better kissers she's ever encountered, to be honest. Maybe even the best.

Peeta breaks away from the kiss first, tracing her jawline gently with his thumb. Katniss licks her lips, breathing heavily. He smiles.

And then his fangs pop out.

Katniss shrieks and scrambles back against the windshield. Her hands grasp wildly for anything she can swing at him in defense, but they find nothing, just cold, solid steel and glass. She could try to slip past him, jump into the car and go, but he's too fast. She'd never make it. I'm going to die out here, she thinks. Peeta Mellark is going to kill me in these woods.

Peeta slaps his hand over his mouth, jumping to the ground. "I'm sorry!" he exclaims. "I'm not – I'm not going to hurt you, I swear." He pulls his hand away and opens his mouth. His teeth are back to normal – human. "See?"

"You want my blood," she says accusingly, her voice high and frightened.

"No! Not…exactly," Peeta says quietly, slowly moving towards the car again. He stops in front of her. "I mean…is there a part of me that does? Of course." He flinches at her horrified look. "But I would never take it by force," he adds quickly. "Look. My fangs are just a part of me, and I'm still young, and sometimes they do things out of my control when I'm in certain…situations. It's kind of like, um…" He laughs awkwardly. "It's kind of like going through puberty again."

It takes Katniss a second to understand what he means, but once she does, her eyes widen. She can't stop her gaze from dropping to the front of his pants – nothing too obvious, but she can see the faintest outline of a bulge there. A sudden jolt of desire twists pleasingly between her legs, and she silently thanks the heavens that her own teeth can't pop out in a fang boner.

Peeta runs a hand through his hair and gives her a sad smile. "Maybe you should turn in. Sun'll be up in a couple hours anyway."

"Yeah," she agrees, sliding off the hood of the car onto shaky legs. "Um. Can I give you a ride home?"

"Nah." He waves her off. "I'll walk."

They exchange goodbyes and Katniss climbs into the driver's seat. It takes her a few tries to get the engine going, and the car jerks forward under the pressure of her foot on the gas pedal. She steers the car through the grass slowly, and glances in the rearview mirror just as she's about to turn onto the road.

Peeta's still standing beneath the oak tree, watching her drive away, his figure hazy like a ghost in the dim red glow of the taillights.

"Kitty, you look like death warmed over," Finnick says bluntly, handing Katniss a platter of chicken tenders and fries. "What did you get up to last night?"

"Fuck you," she mutters, spinning away with the order. Finnick whoops in glee.

"I love it when you talk dirty, girl!" he calls after her. Another voice floats into her head, I'd love to hear that bitch talk dirty to me, and she shoots a disgusted look at the sweaty man at the bar who'd thought it.

The thing is, Finnick is right – she's running on two, maybe three hours of sleep, and even though it's a slow weekday lunch shift, she's on the verge of locking herself in Gale's office and collapsing onto the couch for a nap. And it's all Peeta's fault, she thinks darkly.

The first thing Katniss had done when she'd arrived home the night before was run upstairs, jump into the shower, and touch herself until she came, imagining Peeta's pale hands on her body the entire time. She hadn't realized how turned on she was until she was halfway home, and she'd sped there as quickly as possible, desperate to release the tension building between her thighs. It was a miracle one of the deputies on the night shift hadn't caught her speeding.

In bed she'd tried to sleep, but the dull ache in her core wouldn't go away, and she'd brought herself to another climax just as the first rays of the sun had broken over the horizon. Once she managed to drift off she'd even had a dream about Peeta, the two of them naked and tangled together, and she'd woken up panting and horny again.

She's never reacted this way to a guy – not Gale, not anyone – in her entire life. It's obvious that Peeta has used some kind of vampire magic on her.

Katniss forces herself to slog through the rest of the afternoon, sniping at Finnick and pretty much anyone else who crosses her path. Five minutes before her shift is up Gale calls her into the back office.

"What the hell is going on, Katniss?" he demands. "You're even surlier than usual."

"I'm tired," she snaps. "Can I go? My shift is over."

"No." Gale folds his arms over his chest and narrows his eyes at her. Yeah right. This must have something to do with Mellark.

"It has nothing to do with Peeta," she groans, rolling her eyes. She pauses when she sees Gale's shocked expression. He knows about her secret, but they try not to talk about it – and she definitely doesn't acknowledge the stray thoughts that seep from his mind into hers on occasion. "Oh…you didn't say that out loud, did you."

"No," he mutters, looking angry. "But I don't believe you, anyway."

"How do you even know I was with him last night?" she demands. "Are you spying on me?"

Gale snorts. "Spying on you? Get over yourself. I saw you leave together after we closed up. I live here, Katniss."

Katniss flushes. She hadn't really thought about the fact that Gale's trailer behind the restaurant had a clear view of the parking lot out front. "Well, whatever. It's none of your business anyway."

"It sure as hell is my business if he's comin' out here and pickin' you up in my parking lot in the middle of the night," Gale says tightly. His frown softens. "I care about you, Catnip. I know that Peeta seems like this harmless guy from high school, but…he's different now. You have to be careful."

Katniss sighs. "Look. I appreciate your concern. I really do. But Peeta…it's nothing. He was bored, and so I hung out with him for a little bit, and then I went home."

"Yeah, alright." Gale looks unconvinced, but he waves a hand towards the door. "You can go."

But Katniss does hang out with Peeta again, two nights later, when she runs into him at the grocery store.

"Hey Katniss." Peeta stops beside her in front of the frozen pizzas, a case of TruBlood in his arms. He looks sheepish. "How's it going?"

"Fine," she says shortly, keeping her eyes steadily focused on the stacks of pizza boxes.

He edges closer and lowers his voice. "Look, I wanted to apologize about the other night –"

"What did you do to me?" she interrupts in a harsh whisper.

Peeta frowns, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

She glances around to make sure no one's in earshot. "I mean what kind of weird vampire spell did you put on me that night?"

Peeta shakes his head, his eyes wide. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Katniss scoffs. "Yeah right." She slams the freezer door shut and stalks away, about as quickly as one can stalk away with an unwieldy grocery store cart before them.

Peeta catches up with her in the parking lot as she's unloading her bags into the trunk of her car. "Katniss. Please, listen to me."

"Why? So you can…can glamour me?" she asks. "Is that what it's called?" The PSAs about glamouring had popped up all over the radio and tv a few weeks after the Great Revelation; make eye contact with a vampire, and they could hypnotize you into doing anything they wanted.

"No," he says emphatically. "I mean, yes, that's what it's called. But I would never do that to you."

"Why not? You'd do it to someone else, right?" He doesn't answer, just stares at her, jaw clenched. "What makes me so special?"

His eyes never leave hers. "Because with you, I want it to be real."

Her mouth moves soundlessly, grasping for words, but she's saved by the buzz of her cell phone. She pulls it from her pocket quickly, grateful for an excuse to turn away. "Shit," she mutters, reading the screen.

"What?"

"Prim says the power's out again," Katniss says miserably, slumping against the side of the car. "We've got to get the whole damn house rewired, but we don't have the cash right now…I just bought all this food."

"You could bring it over to the bakery," Peeta suggests quietly. "I've got a walk-in and a back-up generator just in case."

Katniss bites her lip, thinking. She doesn't want $50 worth of meat and milk and cheese to go to waste. And something about Peeta's admission – how his voice had dropped when he'd said the word real – had pacified her suspicion towards him.

"Okay," she says finally. His face lights up.

It doesn't take long to drop her grocery bags in the walk-in freezer, and Katniss shuffles her feet awkwardly as Peeta shuts off the lights and closes the door.

"You want to come up for a drink or something?" he says casually, leaning against the metal door.

A voice in the back of her mind is screaming no, but curiosity – and whatever inexplicable force that continues to draw her towards him – wins out. She's never seen a vampire's home before, after all. "Okay." She follows him up the stairs in the back, to the second-floor apartment over the bakery. "Do you actually have anything I can drink?"

"I've got tea, wine, water…" He glances back and smiles at her questioning look. "I can't drink any of it, but I keep it for guests."

She can't imagine Peeta having many guests over in Bon Temps, but she nods anyway. "Makes sense."

Katniss chooses tea, and they sit at the kitchen table as they wait for the water in the kettle to boil. "So…" Peeta drums his fingers on the tabletop. "What made you think I glamoured you?"

She blushes, picking at her fingernails. "I don't know," she says vaguely. "It was nothing."

"It must have been something," he presses, a glint in his eye. "You were really pissed."

"You were just in a dream I had," she says quickly. "That's all."

Peeta remains quiet, looking at her thoughtfully, until the tea kettle whistles a few moments later. "Must've been some dream," he remarks, standing up to shut off the stovetop.

Katniss watches him as he pours the water into a mug, staring at the muscles flexing slightly in his arms as he reaches up into one of the cabinets. I want it to be real. She can't get his words out of her head.

Almost without thinking, she leaves her seat, moving to stand just behind him.

He pulls a metal canister from the cabinet and turns his head to look down at her. "Do you take sug –"

Katniss rises onto her tiptoes and presses her lips against his, stilling his words. The canister drops to the countertop with a clatter, sugar spilling out onto the floor, sparkling like diamonds in the dim light.

Peeta ignores the mess and responds immediately, enthusiastically, wrapping his arms all the way around her and lifting her up onto the counter. She folds her legs around his middle and runs her hands through his soft blonde hair, moaning as he nips at her bottom lip.

Katniss claws desperately at his thin black t-shirt, eager to feel his skin, and Peeta pulls back for just a second to pull the shirt over his head, throwing it carelessly over his shoulder. Her fingers fumble at the buttons on her own shirt and he pushes them away roughly, ripping the shirt open like it's tissue paper. "Sorry," he mutters. She laughs – he doesn't sound sorry at all.

She feels Peeta's chest rumble in approval at the sight of her breasts, and she lets her head fall back with a gasp as he pulls the straps of her bra down off of her shoulders and takes a nipple into his mouth. "Peeta," she groans, rocking her hips against him. "I don't…what are we doing…"

He drags his lips from her chest up to her neck and then her own lips, kissing her deeply, brushing his tongue against hers. He stops and draws back, staring at her with an intensity that steals her breath away. "Bed?" is all he says.

She nods immediately, and before she can even process what's happening, she's scooped up in his arms and then suddenly lying on soft, comfortable sheets. Must be the super speed, she thinks fleetingly before Peeta's on top of her, grinding his hips against her. "God you're beautiful," he murmurs, his mouth dragging along the dip between her breasts as he reaches beneath her to pull off her bra.

Katniss can barely think, the feel of his body against her own so overwhelming, and before long they're both naked, and trembling with desire. Peeta's hard length is pressed up against her, rubbing against the warm, wet place between her legs, and he captures her mouth in a deep kiss, shifting himself over her, positioning himself at her entrance.

"I haven't, um, done this in a long time," she says, breaking away from the kiss.

"How long?" he asks, but he presses sloppy kisses along her jaw, seeming far more interested in the taste and touch of her skin than the details of her sexual history.

"Years," she admits. Five, to be exact. She'd had sex with Gale twice, both times a disaster. The physical connection had been so intense that there was no hope of blocking his thoughts from her mind - and Gale's thoughts, at the height of his adoration, had terrified her.

Here, now, with Peeta, there's no such worry. The only sounds are the creak of the bedsprings, their bodies shifting against the sheets, her ragged breath, the low rumble of desire in his throat. For the first time she can feel instead of think.

"I don't care," he says, burying his face between her breasts, nuzzling his nose against her. He looks up to meet her eyes, and smiles. "It makes this even hotter, maybe."

His hand slides down between her legs and he rubs his fingers against her folds, making her gasp. "You're so wet," he tells her, voice low, eyes dark. "Are you ready for me?"

She nods, and he presses his cock up against her center, the tip entering just slightly. "You sure?" he teases, leaning his head down to take her nipple between his teeth. He swirls his tongue around the hard bud and she whimpers.

"I'm sure."

Peeta drives all the way into her, filling her so deeply she thinks she might come right there and then. Her back arches up off the bed, hips rising to meet his steady thrusts. "Oh my god," she cries out, overwhelmed by how good it feels. This is nothing like five years ago. This explains why people love sex so goddamn much.

"Is this what you dreamt about?" he asks, punctuating the words with the roll of his hips. "Did you dream about me fucking you?"

"Yes," she gasps, nodding desperately. "I did, you were fucking me – oh god –"

Peeta grasps her thigh in his left hand and hitches her leg over his shoulder, grinding his hips into her at just the right angle so his pelvis catches her clit with every thrust. She turns her head to moan into the pillow beneath her, but Peeta pulls gently at her hair, tugging her head back to face him. "Don't. I want to hear you when I make you come."

His words send a powerful jolt of desire racing through her and Katniss starts to pump her own hips up into his with abandon, her breasts bouncing in time with the rhythm. He bends his head and sucks her nipple into his mouth again, rolling his tongue over it, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin. She rakes her nails down his back, loving the feel of his muscles as they contract under her touch, before sliding her hands up to tangle in his hair, holding him in place against her breasts.

Eventually Peeta slows down, moving his cock in and out of her in a teasingly slow pace. She can feel every inch of him as he moves, the wait agonizing as he pulls almost all the way out. She makes a whining noise as she pushes her hips up towards his impatiently, trying to bring him back in, but he holds her down, his hands firm on her hipbones. "Just wait," he whispers into her ear.

Peeta moves his mouth back up to her neck, pressing wet, slow, open-mouthed kisses against her, gently tugging her earlobe between his teeth before licking his way down to her collarbone. He tilts his head, and she feels suddenly, acutely, the sharp scrape of his teeth across her pulse point. His fangs. She tenses, digging her fingers into his back.

"Katniss..." he breathes into her skin. "Can I?"

It's contrary to every instinct she's ever had.

But she wants it.

She tilts her head back, and moans as his teeth pierce the tender skin of her neck. She can feel the hot blood - her blood - trickle down her neck, running over the curve of her shoulder and down onto the pillow. Peeta sucks at her skin greedily, his tongue laving over the tiny wound, and without warning he drives his cock back into her hard. Katniss makes a noise she didn't even know she was capable of.

"Fuck, you're amazing," he growls, reaching his hand down to rub her clit. She bucks against him wildly, moaning louder than she ever thought possible, incapable of words. "You're fucking incredible, Katniss, I –"

"Stop talking," she gasps out, angling her hips up, whimpering as he sinks into her even further. "Just - fuck me, Peeta."

His eyes grow darker and he braces his arms on either side of her head, thrusting into her so hard and fast and deep that it's almost - but not quite - painful. He wipes his mouth roughly against his arm and then kisses her, plunging his tongue into her mouth, sucking her bottom lip into his. The taste of her own blood mingled with Peeta's saliva is incredibly strange, but Katniss pushes the thought from her mind, kissing back fiercely, wrapping her legs around his back to bring him in deeper.

She's dizzy, delirious with pleasure. He bends his head to her neck again and takes a long, hard suck before moving his mouth up to her ear. "Do you want to come for me?" he whispers.

"Yes," she cries, practically begging, her body racing perilously close to the edge.

"You sure? I could do this forever. We could stay here for hours, my cock inside you…"

She moans and digs her nails into his back so hard she thinks she might draw blood. "No – no, make me come, please."

An intense looks comes over his face as he thrusts into her. It's not long before she falls to pieces, her body shaking violently around him, and he makes a strangled noise into her shoulder as he comes. They lay together for long, silent minutes, as Katniss finds her breath and Peeta finds his senses.

Finally Peeta rolls off of her, pressing himself up against her side, wrapping his arm around her waist. "I feel so good right now," he mumbles against her neck. His tongue darts out for one more taste of her blood, and she suddenly realizes why she's so lightheaded. She's bleeding.

She pushes him away from her neck, pressing her palm against the wound, heart racing. "I need a - a Band Aid," she says, stumbling over the words.

"No, no." Peeta smiles and smoothes a hand over her hair, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead. "Look." His fangs pop out and he presses his index finger to the tip until it draws blood, then rubs his finger against the bite marks.

Katniss gasps - she can feel the holes closing up, healing. She runs her fingers down her neck, probing for a dent, a scar, anything, but there's only smooth, whole skin. "That's amazing," she whispers.

"You're amazing." Peeta's grin is goofy and infectious, and Katniss laughs until he moves over her again, pressing his mouth to hers in a slow, sensuous kiss. She sinks into the pillows, boneless, exhausted.

"Where'd you learn to talk like that," she says, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

"Mmm…you don't really want to know," he smirks, falling to her side. He runs his fingers down her arm gently. "You should get some rest."

She doesn't have it in her to argue. Katniss closes her eyes and drifts to sleep.

Katniss wakes to an empty bed, sunlight peeking through the window shades, and it takes her longer than it should to realize that the sun that woke her is the reason she woke up alone.

She retrieves her underwear from the floor and slips back into her pants, frowning as she remembers what Peeta had done to her shirt. She finds a soft blue t-shirt in the bedroom dresser and pulls it over her head before padding down the hallway to the kitchen.

The sugar mess from last night is all cleaned up and there's a plate of sticky buns on the counter by the stovetop, a sheet of paper lying folded next to it. A smile creeps across her face as she reads:

I never got to ask you if you took sugar for your tea…but even if you don't, everyone loves sticky buns. See you at sundown?

Peeta

Her stomach flutters as she bites into a bun, humming appreciatively as she realizes it's still warm inside. Oh, she'll definitely see him at sundown.

No one in Bon Temps could've predicted that Katniss Everdeen would be the first girl in town to start sleeping with a vampire, least of all Katniss herself. But night after night she finds herself back at the apartment over the bakery, splayed across the kitchen table, bent over the back of the sofa, gripping the headboard so hard her fingers cramp.

She knows what people think of her – fang banger, whore, she's fucking him for the V – but the sex is so mind-blowing she doesn't even care.

And, slowly but surely, it becomes less about the sex – though it's still incredible – and more about Peeta himself.

Sometimes, instead of thinking about the way his tongue feels on her clit or how his cock feels buried deep inside of her, she thinks about the way his eyelids flutter shut just before he comes. The silly grin that only spreads across his face when he sees her enter a room. The sweet words he whispers against her neck when he thinks she's asleep. The kisses he ghosts across her lips before he slips out of bed in the early morning, fleeing the sunlight that looms just below the horizon.

She even tells him her secret, one night as she's falling asleep. He hugs her and thanks her for trusting him, and she's never felt as safe in someone's arms.

Prim's the first to notice, of course. "I'm going to Peeta's," Katniss tells her one night as she's heading out the door, and Prim's giggles stop her. "What?"

"I'm going to Peeta's," Prim repeats, her voice fluttering on his name. "I never thought I'd hear you talk like that."

Katniss folds her arms across her chest. "Like what?"

"Like…I don't know…like you're so desperately in love that the mere sound of his name makes you swoon." Prim lays the back of her hand against her forehead and sighs for emphasis.

Katniss snorts. "I'm not in love," she insists. "I'm just…having fun."

"You keep telling yourself that," Prim shrugs, turning back to her textbook.

"I will. Because it's the truth."

Prim waves her off. "Yeah, okay. You go have fun!"

That night, Katniss does something she's never done before as Peeta heals away the bite marks on her neck. Without thinking, she grabs his hand in both of her own, moving it towards her mouth. He jerks away quickly, and she blushes. "Don't do that," he warns.

"I just thought...you taste me all the time. I wanted to taste you."

His eyes soften and he leans in to kiss her, touching his tongue to hers in reassurance. "It's okay. It's just, if you have my blood, we'll be bonded."

Katniss frowns. "What does that mean?"

"It means you'll find me sexually irresistible…you'll dream about me," he says, tracing his finger down her cheek. She tilts her head and smiles.

"How is that any different from right now?"

"It also means I'll be able to sense you, and your feelings, no matter where you are, for the rest of your life." She shivers a little under his gaze. "It's different. Trust me."

Katniss settles against the pillows, dropping her head to rest on his shoulder. "Peeta…" She swallows. "We're just…we're having a good time. Right?"

He pulls away slightly to look at her. "I have a good time with you," he agrees, speaking slowly. His eyes, normally so bright and open, are unreadable.

It's not what she meant, but she's not sure if she really wants to have that conversation right now, anyway – or ever. She smiles a little, entwining her fingers through his and resting their hands on his chest. "Good."

A few weeks later, Peeta announces that Effie Trinket is coming to town. The woman who made him a vampire. His maker.

Katniss can't understand why Peeta is so anxious about her visit. "She's just, like, a mentor or something, right?" They're eating dinner together at Katniss' house, Katniss slurping down a bowl of rabbit stew, Peeta sipping slowly at a B positive TruBlood, which Katniss now keeps stocked in the pantry.

"…Sortof," Peeta says, refusing to meet her eyes. "It's…really hard to explain."

"Well, I'm listening," she says edgily, picking at her stew.

He sighs. "I just, I don't think you'll understand. And I don't want to upset you over nothing."

She taps her spoon impatiently against the edge of her bowl. "What would I be upset about?"

Peeta picks awkwardly at the label on his TruBlood, just like he had four months ago when he'd first told her about the night he was turned. "Remember how I told you about the blood bond?" Katniss nods. "Well, vampires are bonded to their makers, and it's kind of like that. Times a thousand."

Her spoon goes still. "You've had sex with her."

He nods. "Yeah."

"And that's where you learned…everything."

"Yeah."

Her insides twist uncomfortably, confusing her. She shouldn't care that Peeta used to have hot, dirty, up-against-the-wall sex with another woman – it's not like she and Peeta are serious or anything. "Well, I can't wait to meet the woman who taught you that," she mutters, standing up and taking her bowl to the sink. "I should thank her."

Katniss can't imagine how Effie Trinket stayed hidden before the Great Revelation, because she's the vampiest-looking vampire Katniss has ever seen.

Her hair is bright pink and piled atop her head in a mass of curls, lips painted pink to match. Her pale white breasts spill out of a black lace corset cinched around an impossibly tiny waist – much easier to wear when you don't have to breathe, Katniss thinks enviously. Their visitor totters towards Peeta on five-inch heels and greets him with a long kiss on the mouth.

There's a man with her, looking completely out of place, and Katniss stares at him as she tries to ignore the reunion going on beside her. He stares back silently. He's paunchy and grizzled, somewhere in his forties, totally unlike any of the clean-cut, attractive vampires she's seen on tv. She wonders who his maker was.

"Peeta! Is this your human?" Effie trills, turning away from him to run her long, hunter green fingernails down Katniss' cheek. "She's as gorgeous as you said. And she smells divine."

"She's not my human, Effie," Peeta corrects her. "But yes, this is Katniss. Katniss, this is Effie and Haymitch."

"Well, no matter whose she is, she's just delicious." Effie leans in and smells her again, and Katniss edges away uncomfortably. "Mmm. Lovely."

The man, Haymitch, fixes Katniss with an odd look. "You do smell unusually good for a human who spends all day slinging grease." He frowns. "You got fae blood in you, sweetheart?"

"What? No. I don't even know what that is." Katniss snaps, taken aback. She turns to Peeta, confused, but suddenly Haymitch has a hold of her arm. He drags his nose across her wrist, and it's all she can do not to scream. She knows not to run - Haymitch could tear her arm off like the wings off a fly - so she clenches her free hand around Peeta's, willing the moment to end.

Haymitch smiles as he finally releases her, and she backs away quickly, rubbing over the skin that he'd touched. "Yeah, she's part fae alright," he says. "I used to be addicted to the stuff, I'd smell it a mile away. Not much in 'er, though. I'd guess it was a grandparent, great grandparent."

"Peeta, what are they talking about?" Katniss demands, the slightest tremor in her voice. He ignores her, deep in thought.

"That can't be right," he finally says. "I've had her blood. And I didn't get drunk or anything...I mean, I felt great...I just thought...I thought it was just the great sex."

Katniss gasps and punches him in the arm, and Haymitch laughs loudly. "Aw, look. The human's embarrassed. That's cute."

"We all react to fae blood differently, dear," Effie explains sweetly. "Some of us can't handle it." She looks pointedly at Haymitch. "Some of us just get a nice high."

"PEETA." He jumps at Katniss' voice right in his ear. "What. The fuck. Is going on."

Peeta sighs heavily. "Look, this might be a conversation we want to have in private."

"Really? Why? They already know you drink my blood when we're…being intimate." Katniss winces at the shrill note in her voice, but carries on. "What could possibly be a more private conversation than that?"

"Just...trust me. We should probably go back to your house and talk about it. Alone." He looks meaningfully at Effie and Haymitch, who shrug.

"Absolutely not. Prim is home."

Peeta flinches. "Well, um. This is kind of relevant to Prim, too. So that might not be a bad thing."

Katniss stares at him, a sinking feeling in her chest. She's done the thing she never does – the worst possible thing – and trusted him. Now it's coming back to bite her in the ass. She should have known better.

"Fine," she says quietly, tossing him her car keys. "You drive."

Prim is outside, locking the front door as Katniss and Peeta pull into the driveway. "Hey guys," she calls out. "I'm just heading over to Shreveport for the night to hang out with Jenny and those guys. Rachel's picking me up in a few."

Peeta clears his throat as they reach the steps leading up to the porch. "Actually, we've got something we need to talk to you about, if that's alright."

Prim looks between them for a few moments, and then squeals. "Oh my god. Are you two getting married?"

"What!? No," Katniss yelps. Peeta throws her a hurt look, but she just rolls her eyes. "It's not even legal. Get inside, Prim. This is serious."

Prim sighs, turning back to unlock the door. "I'm gonna be late. It better be."

It's pretty serious. Peeta explains: Vampires aren't the only supernatural creatures in Bon Temps.

There are also werewolves, and shapeshifters who can turn into any animal, and faeries. Vampires don't get along with werewolves. They're indifferent to shifters. And they love faeries. Or, more specifically, their blood.

"You two...well, I'm not sure how to put this." Peeta clasps his hands together. "Someone in your family lineage mated with a faerie. According to Haymitch it was probably a grandparent, or maybe a great grandparent. So that makes you two, I don't know, something like one-sixteenth faerie. Now that I think of it, it's probably the reason why Katniss can hear human thoughts."

"That's so cool," Prim breathes out at the same time that Katniss growls, "This is ridiculous."

"So what does it mean?" Prim inquires, ignoring her sister's dark look.

"Well..." Peeta swallows. "It means you taste really, really good to vampires. And you smell good, too. And if a vampire drinks your blood, they might get a little...tipsy. And they might not know when to stop." He shifts his gaze to Katniss, and his voice softens. "Katniss...I didn't know. I swear."

Katniss doesn't answer. It's too much. The fact that werewolves are a thing now, that shapeshifters are a thing, that she herself is basically a faerie, that Prim's jumble of thoughts are crowding into her head - it's too much. She bolts off of the couch and runs to her bedroom, taking the stairs two at a time.

There's no telltale thud of footsteps coming up the stairs, but twenty minutes later, the bedroom door opens and shuts with a soft click. Katniss is curled up on her bed, face buried in her pillows. She feels the mattress dip gently under Peeta's weight.

"I think you're overreacting," Peeta says, laying a gentle hand on her ankle.

"I'm not overreacting," she mutters into the pillow. "Youtry finding out you're a nice, juicy faerie steak."

"Try finding out you're a vampire," he retorts. Fair enough, Katniss thinks begrudgingly. They sit in silence together, and Katniss realizes, not for the first time, how nice it is to sit with someone in true silence, with no stray thoughts to batter away from her mind.

"You only like me because of my faerie blood," she finally grumbles, refusing to look at him.

"You know that's not true." A pause. "Katniss." She doesn't answer. "Well, why do you even care, anyway?" he asks, his voice suddenly hard. "I thought we were just having fun."

Katniss feels tears start to prick at her eyes, and she wipes them away with her sleeve before he can see. "We were," she whispers.

"And now?" His fingers flex around her ankle. "Is that what we're doing now?"

Katniss shifts her arm just slightly so she can peer up at him. "No," she admits quietly.

Peeta watches her in silence as she props herself upright, reaching out to take his hand. She pulls his hand closer and trails her finger down his palm, onto his wrist where his pulse would be. She moves his forearm closer to his face. "Bite it."

His nostrils flare as he looks back and forth from his wrist to her face. "Bite it?" he repeats. She nods solemnly. He pulls his wrist to his mouth and extends his fangs, sinking them into his pale flesh, his eyes never leaving hers.

Slowly, so slowly, Katniss pulls his wrist back to her mouth, hands shaking. She lowers her lips to his skin and darts her tongue out, lapping at the blood like a cat. Peeta shudders, squeezing his eyes shut, his hand clenched in a fist.

When she's done she lifts her head and licks her lips. Her nose wrinkles slightly. "Ew," she blurts out, and Peeta bursts into laughter.

The laughter bubbles up in Katniss, too, and she squeals as Peeta wraps his arms around her, pulling her down onto the bed beside him. "Katniss," he murmurs, peppering her face with kisses. "I love you."

She kisses him on the mouth in response, smiling so hard that their teeth bump together, making her laugh harder. She can't quite say it back, not yet, but her actions have always spoken louder than her words.

Peeta rolls onto his back, pulling her over him, stroking her long, dark hair. "I really didn't know about the faerie thing," he says. "I figured, I've been in love with this girl for twenty years, of course I feel fucking amazing after we've had sex."

"Twenty years? No way."

"Since I first saw you. First day of kindergarten." He nods emphatically. "You sang the Valley Song in music class, and I was a goner."

"You're making that up," she teases, but a warm glow settles in her stomach. She did sing the Valley Song on the first day of school, twenty years ago. And Peeta remembered.

"I had a crush on you all through school, and you were totally oblivious," he continues, slipping his hand beneath her shirt, running his fingers up and down her back. "Impressively oblivious, for someone who can read minds." He shakes his head. "It's okay. I've got you now."

Katniss snuggles against him, pressing her cheek over the place where his heart rests, still and silent but no less full with love than her own. "You do. Always," she says, and smiles as she feels him press a kiss to the crown of her head.

"Always."

Thank you for reading! & thanks to starkist for beta-ing!