1.
"Give me one good reason I should wear a dress," Katniss mumbled, shifting awkwardly on her feet. It felt wrong; it made her feel like she wasn't her.
"Because I said so," Delly said with a smile. She gently tied the ribbon that circled the waist of the dress at the small of Katniss' back, then turned her to face the mirror.
"Peeta won't care what I wear." She curled her lip, folded her arms across her chest.
Delly sighed, smoothed a hand down her long blonde ponytail. "That doesn't matter. You should wear a dress tonight, make it a little special."
"We're just having dinner at Peeta's house," Katniss countered.
"But it's your first official date, and it should be special." Delly reiterated, before she reached down, slid her hand into Katniss'. The simple touch still felt strange and unfamiliar to her, but Katniss knew it was just something that was Delly, and therefore she let her. "You've both been through a lot. You guys deserve to be happy."
Katniss glanced in the mirror, at the simple pale green dress Delly had picked from her wardrobe.
Maybe she was right.
Katniss wore the dress.
2.
It wasn't technically a dress, not in the way she'd always thought of dresses. It was silky and soft, and fell midway down her thigh - the note Effie had included in the package called it a negligee.
She'd never paid much never mind to what she wore to bed - it was normally just a shirt and a pair of shorts, nothing special. But she'd been sharing a bed with Peeta for months, and while his touches were innocent, the accidental brush of his hand against her hip would make her stomach jump, and the feel of him, hard and firm and pressed against her backside as he curled around her in sleep, made her ache.
But Katniss was tired of waiting. She loved him, had loved him longer than she'd ever really known. And she wanted him to know that.
She slid under the sheets, pulled the quilt up to her chin, and knew she wouldn't have to wait much longer.
3.
"Never thought I'd see the day, sweetheart," Haymitch grunted, holding his arm out to her. She slid her hand into the crook of his elbow, scowled at him.
"Shut up, Haymitch," she muttered. "Don't ruin this."
He shrugged. "Just saying it like it is. You and the boy pussy-footed around each other for so long, I figured I'd be dead and gone before you got around to it. But I'm happy for you, alright?"
Katniss sighed and stopped at the top of the stairs, a bunch of flowers in her hand, the man who'd been a father figure in her life for the last ten years by her side, and a simple white dress skimming over her hips. "Haymitch," she said quietly. "Are we going to be ok? Will we be able to do this?"
In a gesture that was more comforting than she'd ever admit to, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You've been through worse," he started. "But you'll be fine. And his face the minute he sees you in this dress will tell you that."
He was right. As soon as she saw Peeta framed in front of the crackling fireplace, a smile on his face, his eyes full of love and a loaf of bread waiting on the coffee table, she knew they'd be ok.
4.
She sucked in another breath, yanked the two sides of the fabric together, refusing to admit defeat.
She would do this. She would get into these pants if it was the last thing she did.
Flopping back on the bed, she yanked and pulled and tugged, until her breath was coming in fits and starts, and her face was red with exhaustion. With a sigh, she dropped her hands to the side, stared up at the ceiling.
"Katniss." She turned her head, looked at where Peeta stood in the doorway, a length of fabric over his arm. "Maybe this will be better for you to wear." He crossed the room, sat beside her on the bed and braced his palm gently on the belly that was just beginning to swell.
"A dress, Peeta?" she huffed.
He shrugged. "It's probably time for you to give these pants a rest; they're not going to fit you for the next few months. Plus, you know I'm a sucker for you in a dress," he grinned, then lowered his head until his lips rested on her stomach. "And it makes it easier for me to take it off you later."
She raised her eyebrow, felt the libido rise again that had become insatiable in the last month. "The dress can wait," she muttered, and tugged at the hem of his shirt.
5.
Katniss heard the stomping of feet down the stairs, one two thud, one two thud, and she smiled to herself. Turning expectantly to face the doorway, she watched as Holly bounded into the kitchen, twin black braids bouncing, her face like thunder.
Uh oh.
"Holly, what's wrong?" She asked carefully. Today needed to go perfectly, and the last thing she needed was a grumpy 5 year old.
"I don't wanna wear this stupid dress, Momma," Holly whined, stomping her foot for emphasis.
"Why not?"
"Because I feel silly. I wanna wear my pants." Her lower lip popped out, and the facial expression looked so much like her own that Katniss had to work to hide her grin.
Crouching so that she was at eye level with her daughter, she looped her fingers through the ends of each of her braids. "Sweetie, I think it would make your daddy happy if you wore a dress today."
Holly's eyebrows furrowed in suspicion, but Katniss knew she had her with the mention of Peeta. She was such a Daddy's girl. "Really? Are you sure?"
Katniss nodded. "Really, baby. It's your first day of school, and I think he'd want you to look pretty."
The little girl pursed her lips as she considered. "Well…I suppose I can if Daddy will like it."
"Daddy will like it," Katniss confirmed with a smile.
He'd always had a weakness for his girl in a dress. Now he just had two of them.
A/N - With thanks to anonalece, who sent me the prompt on tumblr that led to this one-shot :)
