Hello fanfiction readers! This is my new story Like Her; it revolves around Gale's after Mockingjay in District 2. You know what that means. It's a GalexOC story, lord help me. I usually write KatnissxGale stories, but if Katniss wants to be with Peeta fine by me. Gale at least deserves to be happy.
I am not the amazing Suzanna Collins; I do not own The Hunger Games, or any of the characters. All original characters belong to me.
Like her
Gale's POV
"You're coming with me." Jackson states arms crossed over his chest.
"No," I eye the target on the other end on the shooting range, "I'm not." I pull the trigger and watch the bullet soar through the ring closest to the middle.
"Yes, you are. When was the last time you actually did something that didn't involve work, Gale?" He asks while adjusting his grip on the gun. He fires and the bullet hits the corner of the paper, missing the actual target completely.
I don't answer him; instead I fire the gun once more, this one actually hitting the middle. I'm a better shot when it comes to a bow, but I'm not too bad when it comes to a handgun either.
I look over at Jackson to see him concentrating before squeezing the trigger. The bullet hits the outer ring.
I take off my glasses and fold them up setting them next to the gun on the table in front of me, "You're a lousy shot."
"And you're a lousy friend if you don't come with us." He glares as he sets his gun down. When I first came to District 2 I accepted a job in weapons development in the Military. I decided that I was going to do something important with my knowledge of bombs and snares. I let out a flinch at the idea of what happened when I let my own bombs get into the wrong hands.
Prim.
I met Jackson about two weeks in; he trains recruits in hand to hand combat. The first time we met I was walking past one of his lessons.
"Hey you come here!" I look to the side to see a guy with curling brown hair and bright green eyes call to me. At least twenty recruits turn to look at me expectantly; I raise my eyebrows in his direction. His only response is to motion for me to come close. I hesitantly walk to the front of the group.
"You called?" I ask dryly.
"J. Jackson." He holds out his hand.
I narrow my eyes before glancing at the crowd of awaiting recruits. I take his hand, "Gale Hawtho – OOMPH." I land on the mat, the air knocked right out of my lungs after he flipped me right over his shoulder. Yea, should've seen that coming, I think to myself.
I see Jackson talking to his students, "The element of surprise." He laughs and holds out a hand to help me up. I reach out, but instead of taking it I sweep my leg under him, causing him to fall next to me.
He lets out a shaky cough as the recruits try to cover their laughs with coughs. I tense, expecting him to retaliate, but instead he gives me a lopsided grin and sits up next to me.
"I think we're going to be very good friends."
And that was the beginning of our very strange friendship. Jackson was my first actual friend when I came to 2. My first friend since Katniss. I sigh at the thought of my best friend, or old best friend. It's been a year since the rebellion, and I'm still completely in love with her. Apparently love only grows with time.
"Would you quit day dreaming about proposing to your cousin, you sick bastard, and tell me you'll come." Jackson sounds bored.
I make a face of disgust for two reasons. The first being he somehow can always tell when I'm thinking about Katniss and the second is that he's still convinced she's my cousin even after I've told him a million times she isn't.
"I just don't understand why you want me to go so bad, J," I run a hand through my hair. Jean Jackson is his whole name, but seeing that he hates his first name he made it into just J. I recently found this out one night when Jackson was drunk, and decided to tell me about his deepest darkest secret. A name isn't much of a secret to me.
"Because if you don't you'll stay home and work, prepare for work, sulk, or think about what your little inbred children with Katniss will look like."
"No I won't," I argue. He looks at me expectantly; I sigh and finally give in, "Ok, ok, I'll go. You happy?"
"Extremely." I groan and follow him off of the range, and through the barracks. He's been begging me to go out to this bar somewhere in town.
"You need to get out more." Are his exact words and I don't know. Maybe he's right. I think about work and Katniss probably more than the healthy amount that I think I'm teetering on the line of obsession, and when I'm not doing that the nightmares and the guilt are enough to drive me mad.
We walk the rest of the way to the bar; I barely listen as he talks animatedly about something.
"Hey Gorgeous!" That's what catches my attention. My head snaps up and I see Johanna Mason walking quickly towards me. Jackson stops talking and is now staring wide eyed at her.
"Did you just hear what she called me?" His grin is big enough to split his head in half.
I shake my head and laugh before turning at the woman in front of me, "Hey Johanna." Jackson seems to realize that we know each other and deflates like a balloon. "What are you doing here?"
"What you're not happy to see me." She teases, "I got a job here. Thought they could use a hand in the weapons division. Heard you're a big shot around here with a fancy job."
I shrug. She's partly right. I'm high in the standing in weapons development to be head of the division, but at the moment my job is actually simple. Make sure no weapons of mass destruction get into the hands of the wrong people, break down bombs and missiles to develop better more efficient ones, and occasionally teach recruits shooting. Well, it's a simple as it can be.
The reason people confuse it with some fancy big shot job is because occasionally I make a television appearance to speak for my division. The only reason for that is because I'm the only one with experience in speaking in front of cameras, like when we were making propaganda for the rebellion.
Johanna turns, finally noticing Jackson next to me, "And who's this?"
I open my mouth to speak, but before words can escape Jackson is already introducing himself, "J. Jackson, but you can call me Jackson all my friends do." He wiggles his eyebrows in a suggestive manner and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
"Johanna Mason." She responds cooly before asking, "What does the J stand for?"
"It's one of my many mysteries."
I let out a snort, and Jackson turns to glare at me. Johanna looks more amused than wooed, as I begin talking again.
"We're going to the bar down there. Care to join us?" I ask before J can ask her if she needs self defense lessons. (One of his many pick-up lines. It never works.)
"I was going to ask her that," Jackson whines.
She shrugs one shoulder casually, "Sure. It'll be like you showing me around town." She smirks and walks in between me and J before looping her arms with ours. "Lead the way, boys."
Jackson looks like he is about to fall over as we begin walking he begins talking to Johanna. Her hair is now down to her shoulders and wavy and her eyes have that familiar spark in them that wasn't always present in District 13. She reminds me of the past, and more importantly Katniss. God, I'm pathetic.
As we finally arrive at the bar I see yet another familiar face and slip my arm out of Johanna's as Jackson leads her to table. Christa is short and curvy, my age with chocolate brown skin, dark eyes, and wavy hair that's almost always tied up. I walk towards her and put my hand on her shoulder moving quickly out of the way of her elbow that - as a reflex - jerks back.
She turns around quickly, her face quickly lighting up in a smile. "You came!" She claps her hands together in delight.
I raise my eyebrows, "You doubted me?"
"Let's just say that I owe Jackson twenty coins." Christa is a shooting instructor, not for the military; she works at a shooting range off base in town. Jackson introduced me to her and ever since we've been pretty good friends. She was in District 2 when we were trying to blow up the nut. I wondered why I couldn't remember her at first, but then remembered I was so caught up in Katniss I didn't really notice anything else.
"What are you drinking?" She asks gesturing at the bartender to come over.
"I don't drink."
"Great than you can buy my drinks tonight," She laughs. I can't help the small smile that spreads across my face. "Where's Jack?" She looks over my shoulder.
"Flirting." I reply simply, taking out money to pay for the drink she just ordered. I slide the right amount across the counter and the bartender takes it gratefully.
"Already?" Christa takes a small sip from her glass and sighs. "Ah, aren't you happy that they have places where people can drink collectively now?"
"Ecstatic," I can hear the sarcasm dripping in my voice. After the Rebellion the new government tried to reinstate things from the past. Apparently bars were high on that list of what to give to the people of Panem. Personally, I didn't think it was the best idea.
Christa rolls her eyes, "Well, since you payed for my drink I'm going to do you a favor."
"What kind of favor?"
"I'm gonna hook you up tonight."
I throw my head back and let out a groan before walking back to the table where Jackson and Johanna are waiting.
"Oh, come on. You need a girlfriend. Not an imaginary girlfriend who hates your guts." Christa follows me, and I flinch at her words. She has this habit of saying whatever she has on her mind. It's one of the things I like most about her because, honestly, I'd rather hear the harsh truth than lies.
"Technically, she's not imaginary. She's a real person, but she just isn't my girlfriend." I offer lamely.
Christa scoffs as we approach the table where Jackson is failing miserably at flirting. Johanna has an expression on her face that looks like a mix of thoughtfulness and humor.
"Who's the new addition?" Christa sits on the chair next to Johanna and looks at her expectantly.
"This is my friend Johanna," I sit next to Jackson who looks annoyed for being interrupted by Christa.
"Aw, Gorgeous, I didn't know you considered me a friend. I'm touched," She touches a hand to her heart in mock thoughtfulness.
"Wait, you mean Johanna Mason? Like the Victor Johanna Mason?" Christa asks realization hitting her.
Johanna visibly tenses, but plays it off, "The one and only."
"Oh, damn, I'm sorry that was rude. I'm Christa."
"It's fine. I get it all the time." Johanna shrugs. A dark veil seems to settle over the table that increases the tension every second.
"You know," I say breaking the silence, "That means if you pull anything funny, J, she can kill you like that." I snap my fingers for emphasize.
A small smirk graces Johanna's lips and Jackson grins.
"I'll take my chances."
"So Johanna's pretty hot," Jackson tells me while we sit at the bar and wait for another round of drinks.
I raise my eyebrows at him, "A few more drinks and she might think you're hot too."
He narrows his eyes, "I'll let you know that people find me extremely-."
"Get off of me!" A yell breaks through the air. I look in the direction where the voice came from to see a girl struggling to keep a large man at arm's length. I look at Jackson and he nods; we begin to quickly make our way to the girl. A small crowd has gathered around the two, but no one makes any move to help.
"Come on, Destiny! I payed you, dammit!" The man yells.
"I don't want your money!" The clanking of coins follows.
We push through the small crowd in time to see the girl scratch the side of the man's face as she finally shoves her arms out of the way. She grabs a bottle of white liquor off of the counter and smashes it just before we approach the two. She holds the sharp edge out to the man to keep him away.
"Woah, woah, woah! What's going on here?" Jackson asks stepping in between the two.
"This guys insane!" She spits, and I immediately notice how out of place she looks in the dark lighting. Straight hair so blonde it looks almost white, pale skin, and the only dark thing on her being her deep brown eyes. Very different from Katniss.
I brush away the thoughts for now, "What happened here?" I slowly approach her putting my hand on top of hers and lowering the bottle. The skin contrast is very apparent. Dark tanned hands against soft pale ones. She turns quickly away from me and places the bottle on the counter. Her long bright orange skirt a swirling wave of fabric, and the bracelets she wears jingle with the movement.
"He's drunk. He thinks I'm someone named Destiny," She explains waving a hand at the man.
The man's face morphs into a look of disgust, "Her name is Destiny! No what, never mind, there are more girls like you on the street I'll find one of them." He picks his money up off the floor and storms through the crowd and out of the bar.
"Wow, what a d-,"
"Where'd the girl go?" I ask cutting J off. He looks confused, but then notices her disappearance as well.
"She went out the back. Mind going and getting her so she can clean up this mess?" The bartender asks, a scowl marring his face.
I nod, "I'll go get her. You go find the girls. I think it's time to go." Jackson doesn't even argue, just nods and scurries off.
I go out the back way into the dark alley behind the bar. I spot her sitting on a crate under a lamp post, a cigarette hanging loosely between her lips. I've only seen a few in my life; I remember seeing peacekeepers and merchants smoking them in The Hob. No one else could afford the habit. Katniss hated smoking; she said the smoke reminded her to much of coal.
He couldn't help but notice as he approached that her skin glowed like porcelain under the light.
I lean against the wall next to the crate, "The bartender wants you to go back in and clean up, Porcelain." I don't know where that came from. I didn't even mean to say that; it just came out. She looks over at me carefully, studying me.
"Porcelain? I bet you say that to all the pale girls, handsome." She takes a long drag from the cigarette and blows the smoke out through her nose. I'm quickly assaulted by the strong smell of cinnamon.
"No, actually, this is a first."
"Lucky me," She turns on the crate to face me, and raises an eyebrow, "Is that all."
"Are you okay? You know from earlier?" I ask carefully.
She shrugs, "I'm alright. I'm more shaken up by the fact that I'll have to clean later." She stands and I immediately realize the height difference. She's at least a head shorter than me, so that my chin comes to the top of her head. Katniss was taller, is my first thought.
"I'm Gale, by the way." I introduce myself as she stretches.
"I know."
I quirk a brow at her, "You know?"
"I've seen you on the television before. You're a big military man right?" She leans against the wall in front of me and brushes her bangs out of her eyes. "I seen you during the rebellion. All that propaganda."
"I didn't know I had fans," I joke.
"Ah, looks like all that fame has gone to your head." A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. And she crushes the cigarette under her shoe after throwing it to the ground.
"I try to stay down to earth."
"Oh! You're the mockingjays cousin, too, right?" She tilts her head to the side and almost immediately I respond,
"She's not my cousin."
"Touchy subject," She drums her fingers on my chest before pushing off and walking back toward the door. I look around and follow her.
"I wish I met you when I was in a better mood right now I'm usually a very bubbly person." She tells me as she puts a hand on the knob of the door, but doesn't open it.
"Oh, yea, me too." I joke with a small smirk.
"I highly doubt that." She glances back at me before opening the door. I place a hand on it and shut it. Where did that come from? You're acting like a creep, I tell myself.
"Before you go what's your name?" I ask. There's a part of me that's comparing everything about her to Katniss. From their height to their personality. On the other hand there's a part of me wanting to know everything about her. From her name to how does she look so delicate, but can wield glass just like a knife.
"I'm Tia," She introduces herself before opening up the door and slipping inside the crack quickly so that it shuts behind her immediately. I lean my head against the door and sigh; you've successfully scared her away, congratulations.
After a moment I open the door and walk in only to have a hand stop my shoulder and a voice whisper in my ear, "But you can call me Porcelain if you want." I turn in time to see Tia walking backwards away from me with a smile.
There you go guys. Tell me how you like it, and if you think I should continue. Also do you guys like my OC's? REVIEW PLEASE!