A Little Tickle
Author's Note: I do not own the Hunger Games.
"Make her laugh, you need to seem like a happy couple," the handler intoned. Peeta and Katniss were about to make yet another public appearance after that first Hunger Games. Another farce where they were supposed to somehow endorse the entire sordid affair of the Games and seem like such a happy couple. It did make sense, happy women in love were always laughing. Just look at any of his brother's girlfriends. However, they weren't exactly a conventional couple, and Katniss wasn't in love with him. The idea from the organizers was to have Katniss audibly laugh from backstage right before they went out with huge grins on their faces to do speeches and interviews.
They were already being regarded with suspicion to their romance, though they were trying their best to play it up and make it seem real. It didn't help that neither of them were great actors. He looked at her, she shrugged at him as if to say, "Oh well, we'll just have to not do this," but that wasn't going to give a great impression. Peeta did the only thing he could think of to make her laugh: he tickled her. It worked, Katniss laughed as soon as he began tickling her ribs. He'd known she was super ticklish from before this surreal experience began. Sometimes he had seen Gale tease her with a feather under her ears if she was ignoring him and he wanted her to do something. Of course, she had usually been skinning a dead animal, but it still worked. Peeta wasn't great at making up jokes on the spot, so this seemed to be the only solution.
Even as Katniss laughed, she tried to pull away and managed to elbow him, hard. She hated that she was ticklish, it seemed such a juvenile thing to be, and it made her so vulnerable. Besides, tickling was special. Her father would tickle her to cheer her up, and sometimes Gale would to make her lighten up. Peeta wasn't supposed to tickle her. She pulled away and glared at him she understood why he had done it, but she didn't have to like it. The publicist stepped up, "Great, now just put your arms around each other an walk out there."
During the whole rest of that tour they never had to pull such a stunt again, because, that's what they were, puppets for the amusement of the people. Their strings being pulled by the Capital. It was a good thing too, since Katniss probably would have broken any of Peeta's fingers that tried to tickle her ever again.
It was far later before Peeta ever dared tickle her again. It was after he was lost and came back, after so much more death and destruction. They were both different people, the memories of that publicity tour seemed like so long ago. Katniss and Peeta were staying together at his place. It worked better that way, two battered individuals who understood each other. They were sharing a bed, not that anything fun was going on. Mostly they slept, or didn't sleep, and had nightmares. It was just easier if someone was there to yank you back to reality from whatever hell your subconscious had stumbled onto if they were right there on the bed with you.
They both had bad times, and Katniss was in one of hers. She just stayed in bed. It was as if she was in a living coma. Peeta came in to check on her sitting on the edge of the bed where she lay, staring at the ceiling, "Hey, are you all right?" "I guess," was her soft, strained reply. It was a good sign that she was talking though; soon she'd be feeling better. "Come on Katniss, get up, it's a beautiful day outside." She would not be moved. He knew, he just knew if she would get up and outside she would feel better. For the second time he tickled her and, it worked. Her shrieking laughter rang out, as she scrambled to get away from his fingers, wriggling at her ribs and armpits. His position had the advantage though, as he loomed over her, a tickling monster. Finally, she managed to punch him square in the solar plexus and he stopped, all the air knocked out of him. Their eyes locked both breathing heavily, Peeta's face right over hers…and then she rolled out of bed and went to get dressed.
Peeta lay back on the rumpled sheets, thinking. A smile ghosted over his face. It had worked she'd gotten up with a smile on her face. Plus it was fun to tickle Katniss, it made her seem so young and carefree. Two qualities she rarely seemed to possess. There had also been the fact that she was in her nightgown. There had been all kinds of interesting movement behind the loose fabric covering her chest as she'd tried to get away from him.
Two weeks later Peeta came back from the bakery, flour in his hair, dough under his nails and found Katniss frowning as she chopped a rabbit she'd caught into little rabbit pieces. "What's wrong?" he asked. Still frowning and wielding the meat cleaver she said, "Nothing really, just saw a family today who thanked me for all I did. I have to wonder, what exactly are they thanking me for? Maybe something good was accomplished but we paid a high price." Peeta walked over and hugged her. "Maybe we did pay a high price," he began, "but I'm sure that family is thankful they will never have to worry about their children being reaped, or an entire district punished on a whim." Katniss turned her head into his shoulder, "Maybe," she said thoughtfully and then, "You smell like dough." "Yeah?" he said, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, you smell like a forest," he retorted. "Better a forest than a lump of flour!" And then, because it seemed so natural he tickled her. As the natural reaction for the tickle victim, Katniss tried to get away, and Peeta backed her toward the table she'd been working at. Katniss slapped at his marauding hands, eventually stepping on his foot while screeching "Stop it already!" This time, her cheeks flushed from laughter, the two of them so close together Peeta leaned forward and kissed her. After a moment's surprise, she kissed him back.