A/N: Thank you to loving-mellark for the amazing, incredible, gorgeous banner! Also, thanks to loving-mellark, brionybree, and darknessinastateofmind for prereading. And to iamseemaree for being so encouraging :)

Peeta was met with a blast of cold air as he entered the bank. The walk from Starbucks had taken him less than two minutes, but his undershirt was already plastered to his back with sweat. Delly, shivering behind the counter and lamenting the cardigan she had forgotten on a kitchen chair at home, lit up at the sight of him.

"Did you get it?" she asked.

"Yes, I got your hot chocolate," Peeta said. "And some really strange looks from all the Starbucks employees."

"Doesn't everyone drink hot chocolate in the middle of July?" Madge asked from the other end of the counter. She had remembered her sweater and nylons and was quite comfortable in what Delly had described as the bank's "arctic conditions."

"Thank you, thank you!" Delly looked ready to throw her ice cold arms around him. He handed her the cup, and she took a generous sip. "I can already feel myself beginning to thaw."

"Excuse me." Haymitch stuck his head out his office door. "Don't you people have a job to do?"

Madge, Delly, and Peeta examined the empty bank. It was almost two PM on a Friday afternoon in the middle of a record-breaking heat wave. The rush of customers stopping by on their lunch break had ended, although most had lined up at the drive thru, unable to face the heat of the fifteen second walk from their car to the front door.

"Lunch break's over, Peeta. Look alive." Haymitch disappeared back inside his office and shut the door.

Peeta rolled his eyes. He was head teller at Capitol Savings, not to mention the son of the bank's CEO, although he actually didn't like to mention that. The previous manager, Mr. Crane, had been an unrelenting sycophant, constantly complimenting Peeta's work, offering him the best shifts, and inviting him out for drinks. It drove Peeta crazy. Luckily, Delly and Madge had recognized Peeta's unwillingness in being the boss's favorite. Unfortunately, Darius, another teller, had requested a transfer after Peeta was promoted to head teller four months after starting work at the bank. Peeta's lack of experience was one thing, but the fact that he had never actually applied was something else entirely.

When Mr. Abernathy took over after Mr. Crane's promotion—it still pissed Peeta off that all that sucking up had somehow worked—Peeta worried that Mr. Abernathy would be the same. Well. Peeta soon found out he had nothing to worry about when Mr. Abernathy had called him into his office on his very first day and had explained in rather colorful words what he thought of his predecessor's "management style." (Peeta had to hold back a chuckle at the exaggerated air quotes.)

"Less than six months on the job and a promotion falls into your lap. How convenient. I can't imagine why Seneca thought you were the most deserving applicant." Haymitch had gone on to explain that he had gotten to where he was based on hard work and initiative not his last name or checkbook, and he had no attention of kissing anyone's ass least of all a boy half his age.

Part of Peeta had wanted to defend himself against the insulting tirade, but another part of him felt he deserved it. His last name had gotten him several advantages in life, least of all that damn promotion he would never stop hearing about.

Shortly after Haymitch had dismissed Peeta from his office, Peeta had received the schedule for the following week and found that he was opening. Every. Single. Day. (Two open to close shifts were nestled in the middle as well just in case the six AM arrivals weren't enough.) Peeta had known this was a test to see if he would go "crying to Mommy," as Haymitch had not so delicately put it, but Haymitch had just as much to learn about Peeta. After that first week of hellish hours, Haymitch had returned Peeta to a much more normal schedule, splitting the opening duties equally amongst his employees. Both had gotten along fairly well ever since.

"I've got something else for you too," Peeta said to Delly, holding up a plastic bag emblazoned with the Old Navy logo.

Brow furrowed, she set her cup down and peeked inside the bag. "Is that…?" She pulled out a black cardigan, the tags still attached.

"I wasn't sure what size you are, so I got a couple. I'll return whichever one doesn't fit."

Her eyes widened. "Peeta, thank you!" This time, she hugged him. "You're the sweetest. I'm going to go try them on." Her gaze lingered on his a beat too long before she disappeared into the back.

"Was that wise?" Madge asked quietly.

"What do you mean? She's freezing," Peeta said.

"So you bought her a sweater?"

"A ten dollar sweater from Old Navy. It's just a few stores down from Starbucks."

Madge gave him a pointed look. "You're just encouraging her."

"Encouraging her not to freeze to death?"

"You cannot be this oblivious," Madge said. "Peeta, Delly likes you. A lot. And you buying her hot chocolate and a sweater is sending her mixed signals."

"I'm just trying to be nice."

When Delly had trudged in just before his lunch break, bare-armed and grumpy, he knew he had to do something to salvage the rest of her shift. He hadn't worn a blazer that day, so he had nothing for her to borrow, but he could get her something to keep warm. A hot chocolate wouldn't cut it for the rest of the afternoon.

"Well, don't. We both know you've only got eyes for one girl, even though you refuse to do anything about it."

Peeta returned to his computer, ignoring the blush that heated his cheeks. "There's no girl."

"Whatever you say," Madge sang. "By the way, your 'no girl' is headed inside right now."

A second later the bell over the door jingled as Katniss Everdeen entered the bank. She had been a regular customer for over a year. While she sometimes dropped by during the week, she always showed up on Friday between two and three PM to deposit her paycheck.

She may or may not have been the reason why Peeta always took his lunch no later than one-fifteen.

It was pretty ridiculous, but their three-minute interaction was the highlight of his Friday. Possibly even his whole week. She had the most beautiful smile, one she didn't give up very easily.

It had taken him a couple of months before he had tried to make conversation beyond the usual hi/how are you/have a nice day. He had started with complimenting the green top she wore, and she had revealed it was her favorite color.

The next week Peeta had asked if she had plans that weekend and learned that she loved archery.

Now every time Katniss came in, he asked her one personal question. She had come to anticipate them. They ranged from the mundane (favorite movie, favorite book, favorite TV show) to the strange (if she could only eat one meal for the rest of her life, what would it be?). She always gave him a brief, direct answer followed by the question: "What about you?"

Last week, he had asked her two questions.

The first had been easy and uninspired: favorite local restaurant.

The second had taken all of his courage (and then some): he had asked her on a date to said favorite restaurant.

She had stuttered out an apology, told him she couldn't, and had hurried away without her receipt.

Leaving him feeling like a royal idiot.

He had misread her friendliness for flirtation, and now he had creeped her out. He had feared she would switch banks, or at the very least start coming when he wasn't there. This was why he had been hesitant to ask her in the first place. He knew he'd screw things up.

Maybe if he apologized? Or he could not bring it up at all. Maybe if he acted completely normal, as if last week hadn't occurred, things could go back to the way they were.

Peeta smiled at Katniss as she approached the counter in the middle of the bank lobby, but she averted her eyes to the check she carried. She stopped to fill out a deposit slip before approaching Madge.

Peeta stared. Katniss had always, always come to him. When he was with another customer, she'd linger at the middle counter, rechecking her slips or rooting around in her purse, rather than see another teller.

He had really fucked things up.

Madge cast a cursory glance his way before beginning to type on the computer.

"I'm so sorry," she said to Katniss. "I'm in the middle of something, but Peeta's open."

"Oh. Thanks." Katniss walked over to his open carrel. "Hi, Peeta."

He wished for a customer at the drive thru, a phone call, spontaneous combustion. He wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He should have told Madge he had finally asked Katniss out. Madge had been on his case about it for a while, and he had planned to tell her after Katniss had accepted.

When she had said no, he hadn't exactly felt like sharing the news.

"Afternoon, Katniss." He had called her Miss Everdeen until she had insisted he use her first name. He wondered if he should revert back to that formality.

"Just depositing the one check?" he asked even though he knew the answer.

"Yeah."

He typed in her account number and ran the check through the machine.

"Did you have a good week?" he asked. God, this was painful.

"It was okay."

He nodded. Part of him wanted to stall, ask her a silly question, or if she had plans for the weekend, but why prolong the agony? Maybe if he gave it a couple of weeks, things between them would return to normal.

"Would you like your balance?" he asked.

Before she could respond, the door to the bank burst open. Two men wearing black ski masks stormed inside. Panic tore through Peeta. The lobby was large, but the space shrunk until there was no room for anything but these two men, charging forward, their guns pointed at anyone in their way.

"Out from behind the counter!" one of the men yelled. He was tall and broad-shouldered, strong-looking and loud. "And don't get any ideas about hitting the alarm." He jabbed his gun in Katniss's direction. She put her hands up and sank to the ground.

Before Peeta or Madge could take so much as a step, the same man who had spoken vaulted over the counter and shoved his gun in Peeta's face.

Peeta had only seen a handful of guns in real life, and they had always been behind glass cases, dark, cold, and untouchable. They were pretend things, movie props, just as bank robberies were things that only happened in other places to other people.

Now he felt pain in his skull directly where the gun pointed. When the gun moved, so did the pressure point.

Blindly, he reached out behind him until Madge grabbed his hand. He kept her pushed to his other side as they gave the man as wide a berth as possible.

The second man, slightly shorter and thinner, but no less intimidating, yanked Haymitch out of his office and demanded the vault combination.

Haymitch didn't even appear flustered. He glared at the robber and spit out, "Fuck you."

The man struck Haymitch with the barrel of the gun. Blood seeped out of the cut, but Haymitch stood his ground. It wasn't until Peeta and Madge came around the counter, and the gun was pointed at them that Haymitch put his hands up in surrender.

"I only know half," Haymitch said, which was true. No one person was supposed to know the complete combination.

"Who knows the other half?" the shorter man demanded, his gun still pointed at Peeta and Madge, as the first man grabbed money from the drawers beneath the computers.

"It's locked!" he called out as he struggled to pull open the second drawer. He put his gun down on the counter and grabbed the handle with both hands. Peeta eyed the gun, but fear kept him frozen. There was no way he could move fast enough to grab it. One of the men would stop him, and then where would they be?

"Come on, C, we've been over this." Despite the ski mask, Peeta could read the frustration on the shorter man's face. "Keys. Now," he demanded, staring at Peeta and Madge.

With shaking hands, Peeta threw his keys over the counter. The man called C caught them and said, "Thanks, bro," as if Peeta was a friend who had done him a solid, as if this was a normal, everyday situation.

Peeta's head spun. His body felt light, weightless, as if he wasn't entirely present.

"Who knows the second half?" the shorter man repeated.

Madge raised a trembling hand. Peeta wished it was him, but he knew the same half as Haymitch. There was no point in lying about who knew what. The best plan—the only plan—was to give them their money and let them get on their way.

The shorter man grabbed Haymitch and shoved him toward the door that led behind the counter. He jerked his head toward Madge who scurried toward them. "Go on. Go get my money."

Haymitch swore under his breath as he unlocked the door. C grabbed him as soon as he was through and dragged him into the back where the vault waited. Madge followed quickly behind them.

The other man aimed his gun at Peeta and gestured for him to sit. He sank to the ground beside Katniss. Peeta watched as the robber paced in front of them, periodically checking over his shoulder. Peeta worried another customer would come in, or a passerby would spot what was happening. He knew it would be better to give the men what they wanted and let them leave before the police arrived. The last thing they needed was a hostage situation.

Or a reason to leave no witnesses.

Peeta suddenly remembered Delly who had disappeared into the back moments before the men burst in. He hoped she realized what was happening and stayed hidden. These men didn't need someone else to point a gun at.

Peeta glanced down at Katniss's trembling hands and noticed how high her yellow sundress had ridden up. On any other day, he would have enjoyed the sight of her toned thighs, but right now it made him nervous. He didn't know what these men were capable of, and he didn't want them getting ideas.

"Katniss," he whispered.

She didn't move.

"Katniss, your dress."

When she still didn't respond, he tugged at the hem. She startled and slapped his hand away before realizing what he was trying to do. She shifted and yanked her dress down.

"Thanks," she whispered back.

"Hey, you two. No secrets," the man said. He glanced up at the clock on the wall, looked out the glass window once more, and called out for his partner to hurry.

"It's going to be okay," Peeta mumbled, taking her hand.

"No," she said. "It's not."

The next two events happened almost simultaneously.

First, Madge, Haymitch, and C reappeared.

Second, police sirens sounded in the distance. C let out a slew of curse words.

"Marv, what the fuck? What in the actual fuck?"

"Shut up!" Marv yelled at his partner. He glared at Peeta, his finger hovering over the trigger. "Which one of you hit the alarm? Huh?" He pointed the gun at Madge and Haymitch, but no one said a word. They had all taken the same training classes which emphasized waiting until the robbers had left and the door had been locked before alerting the police. Safety of their employees was a lot more important than stolen money.

(Peeta's mother, CEO of Capitol Savings would claim otherwise, but luckily, she was in the minority.)

Peeta thought of Delly hidden away in the staff kitchen or bathroom. She had access to her cell phone. She could have called them.

Fuck.

"Alright, looks like one of you is coming for a ride," Marv said. His head swiveled as he studied each person before his gaze settled on Katniss. "You. Little Miss Sunshine. Let's go."

"Hey, wait," Peeta said. He threw his arm out, blocking Katniss from standing up. "You can take me."

"Peeta," she whispered. "No."

C stalked over, grabbed Katniss's arm, and yanked her to her feet. She winced from the pain.

"No," Peeta said, standing up too. His voice sounded weak, so he repeated himself, stronger this time. "You can't take her."

"I'm not sure if you've noticed," C said, "but I have the gun. So I get to do whatever the fuck I want."

This time, instead of just pointing the gun at Peeta, he pressed it to Peeta's forehead. The metal was cold, but it felt like fire against his skin. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Haymitch with an arm across Madge. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

"You move again, and I will put a bullet in your head. Do you understand?"

"Ye-yes," Peeta stuttered out. His eyes followed Katniss, who was already being swept away by Marv. It hit Peeta, then, that if he let her go, this would be it. He would never see her again. Even if she somehow survived the ordeal, she wouldn't be the same Katniss Everdeen he had been slowly getting to know over the past year.

He couldn't let that happen. They couldn't have her. He wouldn't let them.

And finally, he knew what he had to do.

"My name is Peeta Mellark," he announced. C scoffed and muttered, "Who the fuck cares?" but the other one, the one who was clearly in charge, clearly the mastermind behind this robbery, froze.

"Mellark," he said, sounding out the word. "Like, a relation of Deborah Mellark?"

"Peeta, no," Madge whispered. He barely heard her over the pounding of his heart.

"Like her son," Peeta said. "Take me instead. I'm a hell of a lot more valuable."

"ID, now," the second man ordered as he shoved Katniss into C's arms. She tripped over her flip flops and would have hit the ground if C didn't catch her. "Quickly."

Peeta yanked his wallet out of his pocket and held it up so his license was in clear view. The second man grinned. "Looks like we got two hostages now."

"What? No!" Peeta said. "Leave her behind."

The sirens grew louder as Marv dragged him out the door. Katniss and C were in front of him. A police car pulled up as Katniss was pushed into the backseat of a van. Marv slung an arm around Peeta's chest, spun them around, and fired several shots at the approaching police car. The car swerved sharply to the left, and Peeta knew the officer was hit. He thought he saw a passenger grab the wheel, but then he was in the van, and the door was shut, and his ears were ringing.

The tires of the van squealed as it jerked into the midafternoon traffic.

"Are there handcuffs?" C asked.

Marv rolled his eyes. A new voice from the front seat yelled out, "Why the hell would we have handcuffs?"

"For hostages?"

"Why the fuck do we have two hostages?" the voice demanded. "That wasn't part of the plan."

"Relax," Marv said. "There's a better plan now." He yanked on Peeta's tie. "Take it off."

Peeta tried to undo his tie, but his hands were shaking. Too much was happening at once, and it was as if his brain was suffering from sensory overload. He couldn't concentrate on one other thing, no matter how simple it was.

"Here," Katniss said softly. She inched closer to him. She smelled so good, so impossibly good, like the wind and grass. Like the outdoors. Like freedom. It made him want to scream. She wasn't supposed to be there. Neither of them was.

"Good. Use it as a blindfold," Marv said.

Katniss shot him a horrified look.

"Not on you, Sunshine. On him." Marv jerked the gun in Peeta's direction as if to emphasize his point.

"Sorry," Katniss whispered. She leaned closer and wrapped the tie around his eyes before knotting it at the back of his head. The world went black as her fingertips lingered in his hair, smoothing it down beneath the makeshift blindfold.

"What about Katniss?" C asked.

There was a long pause. Finally, Marv said, "She'll close her eyes like a good girl, or I'll shoot her in the fucking face. How's that?"

Peeta's hand shot out in search of hers. He found it clenched around the seat. Gently, he pried it away and held it in his lap. He rubbed circles across her knuckles, which was as much a comfort to him as he hoped it was for her.

Traffic quieted.

The world was reduced to the sound of the men breathing, to the feeling of Katniss's trembling body.

They switched vehicles, Peeta stumbling blindly. The sharp scent of gasoline filled his nostrils, and he had to hope it was for the van and not for him.

They scrambled into a car, Peeta wedged between Katniss and one of the bank robbers. The car turned on, and Peeta heard the click of the locks.

They drove.

And drove.

And finally, they stopped.