A/N: Title comes from an Explosions in the Sky song. The gorgeous banner is by the very talented loving-mellark.
"Hey Catpiss," Clove said with an ugly smile.
Katniss returned the greeting with her middle finger. Twenty-two years old, and it was like she was back in high school. She had hoped once she graduated and entered the working world, there'd be less catty girls, but it seemed there would always be girls like Clove.
Some people just never grew out of their high school persona.
"So rude," Clove chastised. "Have fun this afternoon." She wiggled her fingers and drifted off toward the backroom.
Katniss groaned when she saw the mountain of unsorted clothing sitting in the basket. Clove hadn't bothered to even hang some of it up. Katniss inspected the dressing rooms and found three still full of clothing.
Damn it. Clove was useless. She had likely spent her entire shift sitting on her ass, playing with her cell phone. There was a rumor going around that Clove had a trust fund, and her father had made her get a job to learn the value of hard work before she inherited millions for doing nothing.
It didn't seem like the message was getting through.
Katniss was pretty sure the only reason Clove hadn't been fired yet was because she was sleeping with their gross manager, Seneca Crane. Ugh. Just the thought of touching him made Katniss nauseous.
She grabbed an armful of the clothes and plopped them onto the counter. She had just begun sorting when she felt a pair of eyes on her. There was nothing she hated more than customers silently staring at her, waiting to be noticed. Would it kill them to clear their throat? Just say excuse me?
Katniss turned, a fake smile plastered on her face, but there was no one behind her. With a frown, she returned to her work.
As she was hanging up a particularly hideous striped dress when she heard a small squeaky voice say, "Hello?"
This time when Katniss looked over, she saw a sliver of a face peering over the counter. Wide blue eyes shimmered with tears. Twin blonde pigtails shook from the little girl's effort to be seen.
Katniss walked around the counter. Sure enough, the little girl was on her tippy toes.
"Hi there," Katniss said.
This little girl, who couldn't be more than three or four, blinked up at her. The tears spilled from her eyes, slipping down her already damp cheeks.
"I'm lost," she said, voice quivering. "I can't find my dad."
A pang of sympathy sent Katniss to a crouch, so they were on the same eye level.
"Do you want me to help you find him?" Katniss asked.
The little girl nodded. "He told me to find a ployee if I ever got lost."
"A ployee?" Katniss echoed.
"Someone who works here," the little girl explained. She wiped her eyes and smiled, proud that she had just explained a very important concept to an adult. "You work here."
"I do," Katniss confirmed, glancing down at her red polo shirt and khaki jeans, the standard outfit for Target employees. Twenty-two, no college education, and staring down a future of minimum wage jobs. How promising.
She tapped her name badge. "I'm Katniss."
"Hannah."
"Alright, Hannah, how about you and I go to the front of the store? We can page your dad at Guest Services."
"Page?" She tilted her head to the side, her nose scrunched up.
"We'll make a big announcement asking your dad to come up front. He'll be able to hear it from anywhere in the store. What's your dad's name?"
"Ummm," Hannah drew out the word. "Daddy."
"Oh, uh, well what does your mom call your dad?"
Hannah's hand flew up to cover her mouth. She squeaked—actually squeaked! "She calls him lots of names. But I'm not s'posed to repeat them."
That didn't sound good. She wondered if one of the words Hannah's mom threw around was irresponsible. But no, Katniss couldn't judge a man she hadn't even met. He had obviously taught his daughter what to do in an emergency situation. Accidents happened. Katniss had lost Prim in a shopping mall once. Sure, she was only four years older than Prim, but it was still terrifying, feeling that fear and guilt.
"What's your last name?"
"I'm not s'posed to tell strangers my last name," Hannah said.
"Oh, you're right." Katniss tugged on her braid, wondering how to proceed. This girl's father had armed her with some great knowledge. Too bad he never thought to share his first name.
"Okay, how about this?" Katniss asked. "My name is Katniss Everdeen. I'm twenty-two, and I have a little sister named Primrose. My favorite color is green. My favorite candy is M&Ms."
Hannah tapped her chin, her face screwed up in a look of fierce concentration. "Does that mean you're not a stranger anymore?"
"Sort of," Katniss said. "You do know a lot more about me. But you should still never get into a car with me or anyone else who tells you all that stuff unless your dad knows. Do you understand?"
Hannah considered this question for a long moment. "No."
"I'll tell your dad I messed up his lesson when we find him. Okay, so last name?"
"Mellark."
"Okay, Hannah Mellark." Katniss stood and held out her hand. "Let's go find your dad."
Hannah grasped Katniss's hand with a smile. As Katniss led the way to the front of the store, she felt the little girl's eyes on her again. This time, at least, they were not threatening tears. In fact, Hannah appeared perfectly calm and content now that an adult was handling the situation.
"I like your braid," Hannah said.
"Thank you."
"Can you do a braid like that in my hair?"
"Maybe," Katniss said. "If there's time. But I'm sure your dad is very worried about you and will come running as soon as we call his name."
"I wish Daddy could braid my hair. He's not good at it."
"Did your mom do your pigtails?"
Hannah stuck out her tongue. "No, Daddy did. Mommy never does my hair."
Katniss peered down at the top of Hannah's head. Upon closer inspection, the pigtails were lopsided. The one on the right had much more hair than the one on the left, and stray strands stuck out in the back.
It was sweet though. She wondered how many times Hannah's father had tried to fix her pigtails before giving up. It probably had more to do with how long a preschooler could sit still.
"My favorite color is orange," Hannah announced. "Just like Daddy."
"That's a…unique choice," Katniss said, imagining the little girl's house painted the color of a pumpkin.
"And I don't have a favorite candy. I'm not allowed to eat it."
"Oh," Katniss said. She had one of those sets of parents. They probably didn't own a television set either or understand the concept of fun.
"But I get lots of dessert. I don't think I could ever ever ever pick just one."
Katniss smiled. She reminded herself not to make another assumption about the Mellarks. Hannah was an absolute sweetheart. Her parents couldn't be that bad. "Name one dessert you like."
"Um, sugar cookies. And peanut butter cupcakes. Oh, and red velvet cake with buttercream frosting! They're all so good. My daddy is very very talented."
"Your dad makes all those?"
"He works at a bakery."
"Sounds fun." They reached the service desk. Katniss smiled at Thom, the tall, dark-haired beanpole currently working. "I need to make an announcement," Katniss said.
"Please, proceed."
"Not to you, dumba—apple."
Thom blinked at her. "What did you call me?"
"A dumbapple," Hannah piped up. "I've never heard that one. Mommy usually says dumbass."
Katniss covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. "Alright, c'mere, Hannah." She lifted Hannah and plopped her onto the counter. "Do you see this phone?"
"Mmhmm."
"When I pick it up and press this button, I can make a big announcement. Ready?"
Hannah nodded eagerly, her little legs kicking the counter.
"Can Mr. Mellark please report to the service desk? Mr. Mellark?" Katniss said.
Her voice boomed out across the store, through the speaker in every department. Hannah clapped.
"Can I try?"
"Uhh…" Katniss looked over at Thom who shrugged. "Okay, but don't say dad. Just ask for Mr. Mellark. Okay?" According to the employee handbook, no one was supposed to say the child's name or indicate a child found over the speakers. Too many crazy people nowadays.
"Mr. Mellark, please get your butt to the service desk!" Hannah practically screamed into the receiver.
Katniss quickly hung up the phone while Hannah giggled.
"You know, Mr. Crane is here today," Thom warned.
"Thank you for that pertinent information," Katniss said. "Probably should've shared that earlier."
Thom rubbed the back of his neck. "I only just remembered."
Katniss rolled her eyes and looked down at Hannah. "I'm sure your dad will be here any—" She paused as a blond man ran toward the desk. "Any second now."
"Hannah, oh my god!" he yelled.
Katniss was about to ask Hannah if this was in fact her father, but Hannah was already launching herself into his arms.
"Daddy!" she yelled. "I lost you, but then I found a ployee, and we're not strangers anymore!"
Katniss didn't think the man heard a word his daughter said. His eyes were squeezed shut as he hugged her close. He looked close to tears.
"Daddy, I can't breathe!"
This seemed to penetrate his haze of relief. He loosened his grip, but didn't put her down.
In his frenzied rush toward the counter, Katniss had missed how young he was. He looked her age, maybe a year or two older. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his hair stuck up in every direction. She could feel the tension radiating off him, even as he held his little girl in his arms.
Despite his exhaustion and the worry etched across his face, she recognized how handsome he was. She imagined him doing Hannah's hair, elastics in one hand, the brush perched between his teeth.
It was a sweet image. It warmed her, but at the same time made her inexplicably sad.
"Thank you so, so much, um," the man paused and looked at her nametag. "Katniss."
"Katniss Everdeen, Daddy. I told you, we're not strangers anymore."
His brow furrowed in confusion. "Right. Katniss Everdeen."
"You've taught your daughter well," Katniss said. "She knew she was supposed to find an employee to help her. And she knew not to give her last name to strangers, so we got to know each other a little."
"Good," he said. "Good job, sweetheart."
"There was only one problem," Katniss explains. "She doesn't know your first name."
By the way his expression falls, one would think Katniss had just told him he taught his daughter to get into cars with strangers.
"I'm such an idiot."
"Daddy, that's a bad word."
"Right. Sorry." He ran his free hand through his blond hair, his other still firmly locked around his daughter, support her weight as she leans into his chest.
"What is your first name?" Katniss asked.
"Oh my god. I didn't even introduce myself!" He held out his hand. "Peeta. Peeta Mellark."
"It's nice to meet you, Peeta," Katniss said, shaking his hand. "I think you're being too hard on yourself. Kids get lost sometimes. It happens to everyone."
"It doesn't happen to good parents," Peeta said.
"Trust me, not noticing your daughter has run off does not make you a bad parent. It's not as if you completely forgot she existed and drove home without her."
Peeta gave her a strange look.
"My mother might have done that. Once." Or three times. Whatever. "Anyway, Hannah, now you know your daddy's first name just in case something like this ever happens again."
"It won't," Peeta said quickly.
Without thinking, Katniss touched his arm. "Even if it did, it still wouldn't mean you're a bad parent."
Peeta glanced down, and Katniss ripped her hand away. She hid it behind her back as if to pretend it never happened.
"What do you think, Hannah?" Katniss asked. "It seems like you have a pretty cool dad."
"He's the best!" Hannah exclaimed. "Tonight we're going to make cookies and play dolls and watch Tinkerbell!" She flopped around in her father's arms as she shared their plans. "Daddy, do you think you could do my hair like Katniss's?"
Katniss grabbed her braid and smoothed it down. "I thought you said your dad couldn't do braids."
"He can try! Look how pretty her hair is!"
"It's very pretty," Peeta agreed.
It was a small, inconsequential compliment, yet Katniss was sure she was blushing.
"Um, do you think you could turn around?" Peeta asked. He set Hannah down, but kept a hand on her shoulder.
"Oh, uh, sure." She flipped her braid over her shoulder, so it lay down her back. Even though he doesn't touch her, she felt the heat of his skin as his hand hovered closely, tracing the air around her braid.
"Looks complicated," Peeta said quietly.
"Miss Everdeen!"
Katniss spun around at the harsh voice, dismayed to see the manager, Seneca Crane approaching.
"Miss Everdeen, what are you doing over here? You're supposed to be at the Dressing Rooms. No one's been at the desk for twenty minutes!"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Crane, I was just helping—"
"No! No excuses. And don't think I didn't hear that ridiculous page you sent out. What did you think you were doing?"
"Excuse me, sir?" Peeta interrupted. Despite the formality of the interruption, his tone was less than polite. He angled his body so he was in front of Katniss, partially obstructing Mr. Crane's view of her. "She left the dressing rooms to help my daughter. She got lost, and Katniss helped her find me."
Mr. Crane crossed his arms and let out a huff. "She still should have called someone over to cover the counter. She still shouldn't have allowed your daughter to make a page. She still shouldn't be standing over here, wasting time."
Katniss swallowed her barely suppressed rage. She would not yell or complain or try to contradict him. She needed this job, shitty as it was. She didn't have the energy to return to the job hunt, sending out her less than impressive resume, and failing to impress at the few interviews she managed to get.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Crane. I'll get back to work," Katniss said.
"You're on thin ice, Miss Everdeen. Don't think I haven't noticed you clocking in late the last few days."
Thom made a face over Senenca's shoulder. Hannah stifled a laugh.
"Is tardiness funny?" Mr. Crane asked.
"She's four, sir," Peeta said. "Everything is funny."
"Your beard's funny," Hannah added.
"Hannah," Peeta chastised, despite the laughter in his voice. "Honestly, Mr. Crane, you're being way too harsh. Katniss should be praised for her hard work today. I was scared out of my mind. I was so relieved to hear Hannah's voice on the overhead speaker."
"Mmhmm. Well. Good job, Katniss. Now back to work."
Instead of leaving, Seneca crossed his arms as if waiting to make sure Katniss followed directions. Katniss sighed and knelt down to bid Hannah goodbye.
"It was very nice to meet you, Hannah. Enjoy your night with your dad."
Hannah wrapped her arms around Katniss's neck. "Thank you, Katniss."
Katniss stood, a little taken aback at the little girl's sudden affection. She shook Peeta's hand once more. "Nice meeting you, Peeta."
"You too. And thank you once more. Really. Thank you."
"No problem." She eyed Mr. Crane. "Just doing my job."
"We need to talk about your recent behavior at work," Seneca announced only minutes after Katniss returned to the dressing room.
She dropped the clothes she was stuffing with hangers and leaned back against the counter. "What recent behavior?"
"You're late. Constantly. You leave the desk unattended. You're rude to customers. You don't get along well with other co-workers."
"You mean I don't get along with Clove," Katniss corrected. "And I had one customer complaint, and surprise! It was one of Clove's friends."
"You could learn a lot from Clove, you know. She's a model employee."
"Seriously?" Katniss demanded. "Should I start sleeping with you too? Would that make me a model employee?"
Seneca's eyes bulged. "What did you just say?"
"Are you really surprised? Everyone knows. Well." Katniss glanced down at his left hand. "Everyone but your wife."
"You're fired," Seneca spit out.
"Excuse me? You can't fire me! I haven't done anything wrong!"
"Have you been listening? You're tardy, rude, and irresponsible."
"Irresponsible?" Katniss wanted to gather up a handful of hangers and chuck them at Seneca. "I'm one of the most responsible employees you have. And you know why I'm late! We've talked about this over and over again!"
Katniss had a car and Mrs. Everdeen had a car. There was no money left to purchase one for Prim who was currently taking classes at the community college. Whenever Mrs. Everdeen worked the night shift at the hospital, her car was free from Prim to use during the day.
Otherwise, Katniss had to drive Prim to school. She had discussed pushing her morning shifts forward by a half hour with Seneca many, many times, but he refused. So she was routinely late.
It was maddening. It was like Seneca wanted her to fail.
"Are you trying to fire me because of Clove? Because she hates me?"
Seneca shook his head. He was no longer shifting uncomfortably. In fact, he was absolutely calm. "I'm not trying to fire you, Miss Everdeen. I have. This is an at-will place of employment. You can quit whenever you want for whatever reason without notice. We can do the same."
Katniss gaped at him. Then, finally, she did throw a hanger at him. It might have been childish, but she was thrilled when it struck him across the cheek.
Who cared? Everyone else still acted like they were in high school.
Katniss leaned against her car door. Tears were threatening now. She fiddled with her keys and wondered if she could appeal to another manager. Haymitch liked her well enough. And he hated Seneca. Unfortunately, though, Seneca seemed to have all the power.
She was screwed.
"Katniss?"
Katniss spun around, surprised to find Peeta and Hannah hand-in-hand, walking toward her car. Peeta carried two bags of merchandise. A couple of pink Barbie boxes stuck out.
"Hey," she forced out.
"Hey. Your shift over already?" he asked.
"Oh, um, yeah. All over."
"Are you alright?"
His voice was so sincere, so full of concern, she knew she wouldn't be able to hold the tears off for long. Her lip trembled, and her throat burned. She did not want to cry in the Target parking lot in front of this ridiculously handsome guy and his adorable daughter.
Hannah suddenly threw her arms around Katniss's leg. "It's okay, Katniss."
A few tears leaked out. She couldn't help it with Hannah's wide blue eyes staring up at her. She looked a lot like Prim had at that age.
"Are you crying?" Peeta asked. "What happened? Did your manager yell at you after we left?"
"He fired me, actually," Katniss confessed.
"What? For helping us? That guy is such an ass—sinine person." He glanced down at Hannah who didn't seem to notice his slip.
"Yeah, asinine is one word to describe him." Katniss shook her head. "It's not your fault. Really. I think he's wanted to get rid of me for a while."
"But this is ridiculous! C'mon, Hannah, we're going back inside and talking to Mr. Crane."
"The guy with the beard?" Hannah asked.
"Oh no, please don't do that!" Katniss said. "Please. It's fine. I'll find something else."
"Are you sure?" Peeta asked. "I can't help but feel responsible…."
"You're not. Really," Katniss insisted. "Please, go home, go watch Tinkerbell." She smiled down at Hannah. "I'll be fine."
Peeta stared down at his daughter, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Katniss? Have you ever considered being a nanny?"