Wow. The response to the first chapter was absolutely overwhelming and my muse is still in a state of catatonic shock. Thank goodness she finished this chapter with me before she left. You guys are all super awesome and so here is a massive reward. The next chapter will not be as quick up, as I am slammed for the rest of this week, but I promise I'll get it up ASAP.
This was originally written as a one or two shot but due to the response I am considering writing more so we'll see where that takes me! It does move fast, but with no angsty Katniss and a very assertive and suave Peeta what do you expect?

Oh my dear readers have I some gossip for you! The Odairs parties are always rather legendary, but last night's charity fundraiser for UNICEF was in a whole other league, not least for the drama that followed it! When I announced four days ago that Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire, was to be the main prize in their charity auction, you lovely readers simply went wild if it can be judged by the numerous emails, comments, letters and even phone calls that followed! But I must apologise in advance for the sheer madness I am going to cause with this next statement.

A certain very single, very attractive man was in attendance last night (HINT : he has the most shocking blue eyes! I'm sure you all know who I am talking about) and his arrival was almost instantly noticed by Miss Everdeen. According to a source, Mr Mellark had been asking Finnick Odair only minutes before entering about Miss Everdeen herself, showing an uncommon wealth of interest and well, when Katniss Everdeen saw him… you could have cut that sexual tension with a knife!

And then, during the auction itself, where the bidding was looking to be going to Mr Coriolanus Snow – the head of the UNICEF charity commission, our very own Mr Mellark snuck in and bid $1,000,000 on our lovely Miss Everdeen! (a bid that was in fact, three times more than anything else bought that night.)

What I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall on that Million Dollar Date…

"SOLD, one date with Katniss Everdeen, winner number 12 Peeta Mellark, for $1,000,000!"

This must be a dream. This must be a dream.

The man I was about to meet up with had paid a cool one million just to have one date with me. "Talk about romantic." Annie had swooned, "He is the nicest guy, he actually introduced me to Finnick funnily enough."

I looked at my reflection one last time in the mirror. Cinna had come over earlier to hand me and help dress me in his latest creation. It was probably his most simple on the hanger, but on it was the ultimate come-hither dress. Body hugging and black, it fell to mid-thigh with a provocative slit up the back and a v shaped collar. On first look it was rather plain but as you moved it came alive with mesh panels all down the side. It was just the right side of decent and whilst I initially felt uncomfortable wearing such a provocative dress, I could not deny how simply sexy it made me feel.

"Does this not just scream I'm easy?" I muttered whilst trying it on.
Cinna stared at me, "Katniss, if Peeta Mellark wants you, you are going to take that offering like the gods handed it to you themselves. If he was gay I would have already bought a one-way ticket to that ride."
"Cinna don't be crass!"

I heard the gravel crunch as a car pulled up outside, and my heart pounded in time to the footsteps that slowly made their way up to the doorway. Despite the fact I had been waiting for it, when the bell rang I couldn't help a sharp gasp of surprise. I swung the front door open apprehensively and almost fainted at the sheer sight of him.

Thankfully, the surprise wasn't entirely one sided. The normally suave and composed Mr Mellark appeared to have to been struck speechless, and when his jaw clenched I really had to resist the urge to just drag him into my house and have my way with him. His eyes flashed with a shot of desire and I suddenly felt at ease. This thing, whatever it was, was definitely not one sided. He felt it just as strongly as I did.

"Katniss, I don't know if I can take you out in that and be able to handle the legion of men who will stare at you without punching them." He spoke low and deep, his voice sending a tremor down my spine and a rush of heat to my core.

I smiled, a coy smile which old Katniss was definitely not familiar with. But something about this evening, this man, and this dress had smothered old, nervous Katniss and morphed into something resembling Miss Johanna Mason herself.

"You are not too bad yourself, Mr Mellark."

"Please. Call me Peeta, Mr Mellark was my father. Shall we?" He presented his hand, which I gladly took, and led me to a black Mercedes purring at the bottom of my drive.

I was pleasantly surprised when, at the last second, he smoothly stepped ahead of me and opened the back door. Chivalry is not dead after all, I thought to myself. Shutting it behind me, he clambered in the other side and asked the driver to move off. "So should I ask where you are planning to take me?" He looked towards me and offered me a small, mischievous grin.

"I was actually hoping it could be a surprise."

"I look forward to it then." I fiddled with my hands in my lap, "I hope I prove to be company entertaining enough for your money Peeta." I nervously confessed, New Katniss disappearing in face of the same panic I had felt when I thought he was not bidding on me at the auction.
As the shakes began in my hands, he quickly covered them with his own and leant forward to whisper in my ear.
"Katniss, you are worth that money a million times over and I would have gladly kept bidding until my money was drained dry, never doubt that."

When we arrived at our destination I was nearly asleep. Being a slight insomniac meant that a good night's sleep to me was perhaps two or three hours if I was lucky. All too often I would awaken screaming in an empty house as I remembered the bitter and bad memories of my youth. Of being too proud to beg but not proud enough to seek help. It wasn't long before I figured it was easier just to forgo sleep and replace that down time with energy drinks.
But sitting in the back of a warm and luxurious car, wrapped in Peeta's strong arms had lulled me into a near state of sleep. It was only when as we stopped that I was startled out of my reverie and immediately felt embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I've been terrible company."

Peeta looked down at me with a gentle smile that once again made me weak at the knees.

"Don't worry about it, you seemed tired. At least now you can hopefully enjoy the night properly."

Peeta stepped out and once again walked round to open my door for me, holding out a hand to help me out.

As I did so, he slipped his arm round my waist and pulled me close. Any other man to have done this on a first date I would have probably wriggled out of their clutches, but with Peeta and the circumstances of our date it merely sent a vicarious little thrill through my heart and made me lean in to the contact.
"I've changed my mind; I definitely can't have you out in public in that dress." I threw my head back and laughed.

"You are ridiculous. So where are we exactly?" I looked about me before figuring out exactly where we were headed. Straight ahead of us stood two massive glass doors that looked big enough to open a portal to another world. To the side of the intimidating building stood a doorman, complete with a top hat, ready to welcome us in with an easy smile and polite conversation. The reason I knew it was our destination, was for the lettering above the doorway that said, in bold print, MELLARKS.

"I know it's probably very cheeky and you probably think I'm a tool for bringing you to one of my own restaurants for dinner, but I can say honestly with my hand on my heart you won't find a better chef. Milane is the best I've ever employed and I would love for you to try it but we can obviously go somewhere else if you'd like." The man of never ending confidence seemed nervous, and I was nearly struck dumb that he was nervous about impressing me, the girl who would have happily sat all night with him in Greasy Sae's, my local fast food diner.

But it was then that I realised where I had seen his surname. MELLARKS was the food version of a Hermes bag. To have a reservation was highly sought after, near impossible to gain, and practically coveted. The cloud of lust that I had been under during the auction meant I hadn't made the connection sooner, but it made perfect sense.

"Peeta I would absolutely love to." I said with genuine enthusiasm and the relief that passed across his face made me melt for the amazing man who had fretted about my reaction to his decision. He removed my hand from my waist but before I even had time to miss the warmth he fit my left hand into the crook of his right arm.

"Good evening Mr Mellark!" The doorman practically beamed.
"Good evening Thom! How are the children?"

"Wonderful, thank you sir. Michael has your favourite table ready for you if I can take you and your lady's coats? He questioned as he led us in. But the moment he did I was struck dumb. It was exquisite. The decor was very simple yet elegant with a white and black theme. Once you passed through the front, where a bar sat in a separate room, the restaurant was situated in a massive open room, with two wrought iron staircases at the back leading to two separate and private dining areas. The floor was ivory white marble whilst the tables were scattered across the main hall, the legs carved into shapes of animals and flowers. Each was different and I could probably spend a week just looking at the various different parts of the woodwork.

To the left of the hall the chefs worked in full view of the restaurant, flashes of fire and swift, educated movements reminding the patrons that food was not only a necessity, but a fine art and even finer experience.

(A/N: MELLARKS is based on The Wolseley, a café/restaurant in London in my head. This description is mainly from memory with a little flair thrown in. If you are ever in London I recommend you give it a try, you will NOT be disappointed.)

"Good evening Mr Mellark. And welcome to the lovely Miss Everdeen, I hope you enjoy your evening here at MELLARKS. If you follow me through I can show you to your table."

"Good evening Michael and that would be wonderful." Peeta spoke in hushed tones after helping me off with my coat, a helpful gesture considering I was still wrapped up in the beauty of the place.

The maître-d escorted us to our table up in the private dining area. As we walked through the restaurant I couldn't help but notice with a smug smile that nearly everyone woman's eyes immediately swivelled to Peeta's fine form. Whilst he was probably not as "pretty boy" attractive as Finnick, the way he carried himself confidently and the lazy grin he possessed along with THE jaw (yes, in my head it had a name) meant he was probably never lacking for female company. A fact I acknowledged with more than a sting of possessiveness.

But I couldn't blame them, still watching Peeta as he stepped in front to hold out my chair. His ass was so rock hard I could probably chip a tooth on it.
"Katniss?"

Startled out of my indecent thoughts, I saw both Michael and Peeta looking at me curiously as Peeta held out the chair expectantly. Cheeks aflame, I jumped into it and murmured an apology.

"So sorry, I am just mesmerised by this place! It's wonderful Peeta!"

I wasn't lying; it truly was magnificent, just omitting what it was that actually had me mesmerised..

Peeta shot me a happy smile and I had to take a minute to remember that breathing was actually necessary to function, "Thank you Katniss, this was the original so it is truly a labour of love. Michael, could you bring us a bottle of the Dom Perignon?"

"Of course sir." Michael nodded and swept away from the table.

We took our seats across from one another; Peeta's face lit up by the ornate candle perched on the middle of the table. I relaxed back against the chair, smiling widely.

"So what's the story with this place exactly?" I questioned, "And I don't want the New York Times approved answer."

Peeta chuckled, "It's not really all that exciting. Upon graduating high school I was accepted to Brown for Law. Unfortunately halfway through my first semester my father passed away, robbing me not only of a role model but also taking away my financial support and therefore my ability to attend. It was only after a three month court battle it turned out my mother had hidden the existing will turning over all his estate to me. He had left me a reasonable sum of money and this place." Peeta looked around at the restaurant and I could see the pride and passion he had, "I had the choice of selling it and using the money to ensure financial security during my study at Brown, or keeping it. I made the arguably foolish and undoubtedly romantic decision of keeping it and sinking my inheritance into it. It was tough, but this old place has proved more than worth it."

I was disbelieving. How could he say that story was not exciting? And how could he even begin to put himself down after facing everything he had and managing to come away one of biggest success stories in North America? "Peeta, how could you sell yourself short? To create this," I waved at my surroundings, "From merely a dream is phenomenal. You should be more proud of yourself. But I spoke to someone yesterday who said you were a divorce lawyer?"

He smiled, though I saw a moment of inner turmoil flit across his face, "Yes, when Mellarks began making money I went back to Brown. The law work, if I'm honest, is a silly personal battle and it's why I employ Beetee - who manages this place full time now." His eyes flashed with something bitter and angry and at that point I realised there was more to Peeta Mellark than a good suit.

Before I could ask, Michael came back across to us, presenting Peeta with the bottle of rose.

"Katniss, would you care to try it?" he gestured across to me, a small intimate smile gracing his lips. I nodded my affirmation and Michael swiftly poured the slightest bit of the liquid into my glass. Slightly aware of what was expected of me as I tasted the wine, I looked towards Peeta to give him my verdict.

"It's perfect."

"Well then pour away."

When Michael melted into the background, I leaned forward and dared to ask the question, "What do you mean personal battle, Peeta?"
Silence briefly ensued and I began to panic. Was I overstepping the line? He had paid a million dollars for one night. Maybe that's all he wanted, I thought with a sinking feeling, one night. I had to push back my brain's excited and hysterical production of a thousand nights with this man and still not getting enough of him.

"I'm sorry Katniss, it's not easy for me to talk about." I clenched my hands under the table, waiting for the shutters to come down and to be steered away from this particular conversation, "But if you want to know, I will tell you, I couldn't deny you anything." I glanced up and my gaze tangled with his. How on earth could anyone's eyes be that blue? Seriously, it should be a health and safety violation. The damage it was doing to my heart rate was certainly worth mentioning.

"My mother would never win mum of the year, let's just make that clear. I was subjected to a deeply unhappy relationship between her and my father as were my two brothers with no way out. My dad did try, of course, on occasion, to leave her but never seemed to have the willpower. It is my job to give the person who is unhappy the willpower to leave and make sure as little collateral damage is received in the process." A muscle leapt in his jaw and I couldn't even stop the knee jerk reaction to lean forward and run my hand over it. He leaned into the touch and my pulse hammered away in a staccato beat.

"Oh Peeta." I whispered. How could this wonderful, sexy and honourable man not be already tied down to some like-minded, charity giving, altruistic, beautiful woman? He waved away my empathy with smile I had no doubt was rehearsed for dealing with this very conversation, but I would not push him.

"But enough about me. I'm incredibly boring. Tell me about yourself."

I reluctantly leaned back and removed my hand from his face, instantly missing the contact. "There isn't all that much to tell, I don't lead an exciting life. A lot of people seem to think that modelling is an exceptionally easy gig but between flying off to wherever the designer takes you on a whim and dealing with exceptionally self-absorbed people who believe everyone else's role is to praise them, I fail to see it. That's why I only work with Cinna now, aside from the fact he makes the most beautiful clothing, is that he is the least ego-centric of the lot."

Peeta laughed, deep and husky and the sound twisted up my insides, "Have you always wanted to be a model then? Finnick told me you used to compete in archery on a national level."

"Ah, so Finnick didn't badmouth me at all?" Peeta shook his head, "That's surprising, he normally likes to make my life difficult. I'd have thought ruining a date with the most gorgeous man I've ever met would be right up his street."

Peeta cocked his head and grinned, "Most gorgeous?" I blushed upon realising exactly what I had said and groaned.
"Oh my god, I swear I'm not normally this bad. I blame the wine."

Peeta leaned forward till we were almost nose to nose. "Well I'm glad my feelings are reciprocated." He spoke in a low whisper, and my spine tingled.

After that it was very hard to concentrate on anything but him. The food was exquisite, though I'd be hard pressed to remember what exactly it was I was eating, as the chemistry crackling across the table was all consuming. On more than one occasion I had to ask Michael to repeat the question, and judging by Peeta's smouldering gaze, he knew exactly why I was distracted.

It is ridiculous to be this attracted to someone Katniss, I mentally reprimanded myself. It wasn't just physical anymore though. As we spoke I realised I had an urgent desire to know exactly who this man was and then claim him as mine.

By the time dessert came around, I was so on edge that the mere clinking of wine glasses made me jump with a start. Peeta noticed this, and reached across to touch my hand.

"Katniss are you alright?" His concern was sweet, but unwarranted unless he planned on jumping me over the table. At this point, I feared that was the only plan of action to rid me of this deep-seated lust which refused to go away.

"Am I boring you? We can leave if you like." Peeta looked towards me, still holding my hand, and I felt horrible for making him think that I wasn't enjoying the evening. Damn you, sexual frustration.

"No Peeta please believe me it is not that. It's not that at all. It's just..." I paused, flailing the arm currently unattached to his and wished I could go back to channelling Johanna Mason, "I'm finding it very hard to concentrate on anything but you." Oh great Katniss you should actually just stop talking you idiot, way to be blunt.

Peeta's eyes lit up with something that looked quite a lot like desire and said six words in a husky whisper that made me melt.
"Want me to get the bill?"

Ehehehe. I'm cruel for leaving it there. But tell me what you think! THIS HAS NO BETA AS OF YET SO ANY MISTAKES ARE MY OWN.

I had this written up and ready to go wednesday night but then I started reading it back and just HAD to make revisions to it so I'm not sure if I am entirely happy with it. Peeta repeatedly talking in my ear saying how he better come across one smooth bastard or he'll never talk to me again doesn't make for a productive editing session.Yo, hit me up on tumblr if you would like updates (and silly reblogs of practically every fandom because I have no life and somehow manage to watch everything) – .comYou'll also find me there should this get taken off FFnet with the mature crackdowns.

I don't know what constitutes being over the line as I saw something that seemed pretty tame get deleted but should that happen to this little fic I'll set myself up an AO3 account and will post the link to that shortly. If you want to be notified of where to find this should it get taken off, PM me and I'll keep your username for safe keeping to send a new link should it go!

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