Based on a prompt from kolms' the girl on fire ficathon on livejournal

Prompt: He never thought he'd come to love another girl the way he did his wife, but the first time his baby daughter opened her eyes, he knew his life would never be the same.

Prompt by: valentineninja

He's in the shower when she walks in. (Well her gait closer resembles waddling these days.)

"Peeta,"

He pokes head out, concerned. He gives her a questioning look.

"It's time," she says calmly.

He almost falls out of the shower, and he knows his eyes are bugging out of his head. Her utter calmness is almost a little unnerving.

"Time?" he croaks.

"Yes, Peeta! Come on."

The urgency her tone now conveys snaps him out of it and he jumps out of the shower, suds still in his hair. She laughs.

"Peeta, you can rinse your hair."

She groans and clutches at her stomach. He pulls on his clothes and towels off his hair, ignoring her suggestion.

"Damn it, I knew there was a reason it took so long for you to talk me into this."

Peeta knows the real reason though. That she didn't want to bring children into a world where things such as the Hunger Games existed. He convinced her that our world was a better place now; better because of her.

He's so distracted that he puts his shirt on inside out, the buttons all out of order.

"Have you called Cambria yet?"

Her midwife usually comes by on a daily basis now. It hadn't been an easy pregnancy for her. Peeta had done everything in his power to help it go smoothly for her.

"Yes, she's on her way." Again with the calmness.

She had been nervous about this day for ten years. Why was she all of a sudden so calm?

"Are you alright?" he asks cautiously. He ushers her towards the bedroom that is set up for her delivery.

She lowers herself slowly and carefully into the bed, panting from the effort. She breathes in and out quickly and grabs for his hand. He's a little worried that she's about to restrict blood flow when she let's go.

"I'm okay when that's not happening."

Peeta frowns. He hates seeing her in pain, especially when there's nothing he can do about it.

"Well if Cambria ever gets here," he grumbles.

"She'll be here soon."

Trust Katniss to be the one reassuring him while she is in labor.

He paces the room, just like a stereotypical, nervous soon-to-be father. He asks her if he can get her anything.

"Drugs," she replies seriously.

The pain is becoming too much for her. He runs downstairs and is just about to tear the phone off it the hook, when there's a knock at the door. He flings the door open, and Cambria walks in, supplies in hand. He has to bite his tongue to keep from remarking that it took her long enough to get here. She has the drugs, he reminds himself.

He follows behind her, having to physically restrain himself from pushing her up the stairs. Is he the only one freaking out here?

Finally they're up the stairs and Cambria is administering some much needed pain relievers.

The labor is long and painful. The sound of Katniss' moans of pain makes him want to rip his hair out; it brings back too many bad memories. By now he can tell the difference between Capitol manufactured memories and his own, but the former still haunts him from time to time.

At one point she swears she will never have sex with him again. He knows she's in excruciating pain, which only makes him feel that much worse for wanting to laugh. Regardless, he is almost one hundred percent sure that she will be changing her mind in the not so distant future. He doesn't reply, only continues to let her squeeze his hand painfully, as he whispers soothing words in her ear.

When at last Cambria hands him his daughter, all wrapped up in a pink blanket, he swears he's dreaming. He didn't know it was possible to love anyone as much as he loves Katniss, but the moment he holds his daughter for the first time his whole world seems to shift. It's an immediate and all consuming love that he has never experienced before. It brings tears to his eyes.

The first thing he notices is her eyes; it's like looking into a mirror. She has a shock of dark hair, identical to her mothers. Peeta has a glimpse of Katniss braiding his little girl's hair down her back. The image makes inexplicably joyous. He knows he's going to love this girl more than any little girl has ever been loved.

He turns to Katniss with tears in his eyes.

"She's beautiful, just like her mom."