Happy New Year! I've finally jumped on the short story bandwagon. These one-shots debuted on Tumblr, but I'm reposting them here for friends and readers who prefer FFN. The version notes will indicate how much was edited/added/changed, if applicable.

The title, "Wind and Thunder", is based on the happy coincidence (OR IS IT?) that Gale's name literally means "a strong wind", and Madge's mother's maiden name, Donner, is German for thunder.

Thanks for reading and have a great 2015!
DDG

Title: "Badgers and Gophers"

Summary: Madge's patience, acting skills, and sanity are tested when she pretends to be from a rival school on the day of the big football game. But never in her wildest dreams did she expect the enemy to be so hunky.

Supporting characters: Peeta Mellark, Johanna Mason, Katniss Everdeen

Version notes: Typo corrections and minor tweaks in phrasing. Originally posted on Tumblr on January 2, 2015 for New Year birthday girl londonrainings. LR, thank you and ILY forever!

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November 2013

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Madge Undersee was a sensible person. She was on the dean's list at the University of Wisconsin not just because she was smart, but also because she paid attention in class, went to her professors' office hours, and read everything on the syllabus. She played classical piano, had dutifully taken ballet and figure skating lessons up until tenth grade, did what her parents told her to do.

So what the hell was she doing, getting ready to watch the Badgers' annual football grudge match against their archrivals, the University of Minnesota Golden Gophers—in Minneapolis?

"They're going to know, Peeta," she hissed at Peeta Mellark, her next-door neighbor of twenty-one years and the brains behind this ridiculous operation. "They're going to take one look at us and know we're the enemy."

How did Peeta manage to talk her into this, exactly? Oh, right, she thought glumly. Peeta can talk anyone into anything. And the chai spiced apple pie he'd baked for her didn't hurt, either.

"Relax, Madge," Peeta reassured her. "It's going to be all right. Jo's going to take care of us."

"Are you sure?" she asked skeptically. Peeta's cousin Johanna Mason, who had grown up in Minneapolis and went to the University of Minnesota, scared the bejeezus out of her. Granted, Jo had been kind enough to put them up—they were at her family's house that very moment—and they were all going to the TCF Bank Stadium together so that Peeta and Madge wouldn't have to drive around with Wisconsin plates. But Madge couldn't shake the feeling that Jo had something up her sleeve.

"Positive."

Madge sighed. "I don't know why you're so calm, Peeta. If anyone recognizes you from wrestling, we're doomed. This Katniss better be worth it."

"Don't worry, Madge," Peeta said confidently. "She is."

.

ooo

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Ever since Jo introduced Peeta to her friend Katniss Everdeen via Skype—he'd sent Jo a box of homemade cheese buns, and apparently Katniss was a fan—Peeta had not shut up about her for one second. The two of them kept in touch, and somehow Peeta had gotten it into his head that meeting her in Minneapolis on the day of the big game was the best way to show her how serious he was about her.

From the looks of it, Katniss was as smitten with Peeta as he was with her, and it made Madge feel slightly better to know that she could at least count on Katniss not to out them. So Madge sat there in the stadium with the star-crossed lovers, Jo, and over 50,000 Gophers fans decked out in maroon and gold. She cheered with the best of them, throwing her arms up in the air and getting up on her feet at the appropriate times. She even pretended to know the songs.

"I can never remember the words to these things," Gale Hawthorne, a very tall and very handsome friend of Katniss and Jo's who had taken the seat next to hers, shouted in her ear.

Madge was about to yell back her agreement, but stopped herself just in time. Katniss and Jo had sworn up and down that they didn't, wouldn't tell anyone that Peeta and Madge were from Wisconsin, but what if Gale had seen through her? What if he was baiting her?

Fortunately, the song came to the part where it just spelled out "Minnesota", and Madge was so relieved that instead of answering Gale's question, she screamed each letter out until she was hoarse.

It took all of Madge's self-control to keep the act up when Wisconsin won, 20–7, and also when a scuffle broke out on the field, right before the Badgers could use the prize—"Paul Bunyan's Axe"—to ceremoniously "chop down" the goal post.

But the game, it turned out, had only been half the battle.

"Where did all these people come from?" she wailed, panicking as the Masons' house started filling up with disgruntled strangers wearing Gophers gear and consoling each other with the fact that, despite the Badgers' ten-year winning streak, Minnesota had still won more times since the tradition started in 1890.

"I don't know!" Peeta whispered back before disappearing into the crowd with Katniss.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and Madge whirled around to find herself staring at Gale's very broad chest. "Hey," he said with a crooked grin. "For a minute there, I thought I'd lost you."

He'd taken off his stupid maroon and gold Gophers trapper hat, and his dark hair was so thick and adorably tousled that Madge was torn between wanting to run her hands through it and wanting to strangle him because her own fine blonde hair was plastered flat against her head after being trapped under a Gophers beanie all day. It was so unfair.

Instead, she laughed nervously. "Me?" she said. "Where would I go?" I'll run all the way back to Madison if I have to.

Gale steered them to the corner farthest from the sound system. "So tell me why I haven't seen you on campus before."

Her mind raced. "I'm a music major," she told him. That, at least, was true. "My kind doesn't go out much." Less true, but plausible. "During the day, I mean." Great. Now he's going to think I'm some sort of musical vampire.

His gray eyes lit up. "Cool," he said, sounding impressed. "What instrument do you play?"

"Piano, mostly," she said, mentally kicking herself for adding the second word as soon as she heard it coming out of her mouth. But since it was already out there, it would be weird not to elaborate. "I also know guitar." She declined to mention violin.

"I play some guitar, too," he said. "I'm trying to teach my brothers, actually. Any tips?"

"Well, I'm a believer in learning things in the right order," she said, feeling more comfortable with this conversation by the minute, and not entirely certain whether that was good or bad. "I'd make sure they perfect the basics first, so they don't develop bad habits. And they should do scales. Lots and lots of scales."

They talked into the night, grabbing beer and pizza whenever they magically appeared. They talked about music (Gale loved eighties rock) and Gale's siblings (Rory, Vick, and Posy). Gale was an athlete himself—he played ice hockey—but Madge decided against bringing up figure skating, in case he asked which rink she used to train at. Fortunately, they didn't run out of other things to say, and soon they discovered that they both loved Pacific Rim and could literally live off macaroni and cheese.

"I wouldn't have guessed it," Gale said, looking at her with—was it admiration?—when Madge declared her undying devotion to their favorite food. "A princess like you?"

Just then, Johanna showed up, slinging one arm around Madge's shoulder and another arm around Gale's waist. "Princess is right," she slurred, giving Madge a wet kiss on the cheek. "Did you know, Gorgeous, that Madgey here was once a dairy—"

"I think you're a little too drunk, Jo," Madge interrupted her before Jo could finish saying "dairy princess" and reveal a part of Madge's past that she would rather Gale not know about. Besides, even though Minnesota had dairy princess pageants, too, there was no way Madge could fake intimate knowledge of how they were run.

But it was too late; Gale figured out what Jo meant to say. "Really?" he said, intrigued. "You were Princess Kay of the Milky Way? What year? I don't really keep track of those things, but I would've remembered you."

This is it, Madge thought. This is where I die. Whether she would succumb to the anxiety of being a Badger at a Gopher party, or sheer bliss at the compliment that Gorgeous Gale had just paid her, she didn't know. But she was definitely going to die here, in Minneapolis, wearing a maroon and gold scarf that made her look like a Gryffindor. If I knew I was going to die dressed like someone out of Harry Potter, I would have at least wanted to be a Ravenclaw.

"No, of course not," she said hurriedly. "Jo's just joking. Weren't you, Jo?" She would've kicked Jo in the shin if it weren't so obvious.

Jo's eyes glazed over. "My great-grandpa was a lumberjack," she announced, forgetting all about Midwestern milk monarchies. She wandered off, shouting at random people about how her ancestors had been friends with Paul Bunyan.

"Speaking of Paul Bunyan," Gale said, turning back to Madge. "Have you heard about the time the Badgers' dorm burned down?"

Here we go. The inevitable Wisconsin joke, and it wasn't even an original one. Madge felt her heart sink. "No," she lied. "What happened?"

"They lost all their stuff," Gale answered seriously. "All twenty of their books. Even the fifteen that weren't colored in yet."

Madge gave it her best fake laugh, but Gale only took that as a signal that she wanted more. Why doesn't Wisconsin have a water polo team? All the horses drowned. How do you make a Badger laugh all weekend? Tell him a joke on Monday morning. What happens when a blonde moves from Minnesota to Wisconsin?

"I don't know," Madge said wearily. "What does happen when a blonde moves from Minnesota to Wisconsin?"

It was an old, tired punchline, but Gale delivered it with glee. "Both states become smarter!"

Madge ground her teeth. She was a blonde from Wisconsin; she wasn't going to take this lying down. But she couldn't very well confront him in the middle of the party, surrounded by so many people.

"Hey, Gale," she said, her voice syrupy sweet. "It's getting a bit stuffy in here. What do you say we head up to one of the guest rooms? Just you and me?"

Gale's eyebrows shot up. "Lead the way, princess."

Madge's heart pounded in her ears, trying to ignore how good Gale smelled—some combination of pine, laundry detergent, and Minnesotan pheromones that appealed to her more than she cared to admit—as she threaded her arm through his and led him up the stairs.

As soon as they were alone, she put a hand on his chest and pushed until his back was against the wall. "Look here, mister," she began heatedly. "You think you're funny, but all your Wisconsin jokes are just rehashed Minnesota jokes. You want to know how I know? Because I'm a Badger, you asshole. Here's another joke for you: What do U of M students like Gale Hawthorne use for birth control? Their personalities."

Madge expected him to run back down the stairs, screaming about the impostor. But from the way Gale was biting his lip, and the way the muscles twitched in his cheeks and jaw, it looked like he was trying his hardest not to smile.

Finally, he gave up. "I know, Madge," he told her, his infuriatingly attractive face breaking into a wide grin. "I knew it from the moment you showed up with Peeta."

"What?" Madge said, dumbfounded. "Who told you?"

"Nobody," Gale clarified, covering Madge's hand on his chest with his own. A tingle ran up her spine from the contact. "But Katniss is my best friend. We go way back. When I realized she had a thing for some guy she met online, I had to make sure he wasn't bad news, you know? Even if he is Jo's cousin. So I Googled his name and found out. Peeta Mellark, University of Wisconsin wrestling team."

Suddenly, Madge was filled with righteous anger. "You mean, all those Wisconsin jokes—"

"I wanted to see if you would lose your cool," he smirked. "And you didn't, until just now. Seems the princess is every inch a diplomat. And a pretty good actress, too."

Lose my cool? Madge was bubbling with rage, and the nickname that had sounded borderline cute earlier was now grating on her ears. "I swear, if you call me princess one more time..."

"What, Madge?" Gale challenged her. His smile was gone and his gray eyes had turned almost black. "What will you do… princess?"

Madge curled her fingers, crushing the soft flannel of Gale's maroon plaid shirt—the man was impervious to cold—in her fist. "This."

Every last sensible bone in her body screamed at her, but Madge ignored them all as she pulled Gale closer. But the moment she pressed her lips to his, her eyes closed and the reason why she was kissing him flew out the window. She wasn't teaching Gale any lessons, not with the way her knees buckled when he put his hand on the small of her back, not with the way she let him coax her lips apart and slide his tongue against hers.

"In that case," he breathed, the stubble on his cheeks and chin scratching her skin, "I'm going to call you princess as often as I can."

"Don't get used to it," she managed to say. "I live in Madison."

"That's not too far away."

"Only bad things can come of this," she warned him. "'Two households, both alike in dignity,' and all that."

"'From ancient grudge break new mutiny,'" he quoted right back, tightening his arms around her. "I'm up for it."

For a split second, Madge wondered what Shakespeare would think if he heard his immortal lines applied to state and school rivalries that were played out on sports fields instead of battlefields. But then Gale cupped the back of her head and kissed her again, and she knew she couldn't agree with him more.

Bring it on.