Peeta held the fondant flower pinched between his thumb and forefinger as he carefully brushed the sugar sparkles onto the delicate katniss blossoms he'd crafted. When the leaves shone like they were been kissed by morning dew, he positioned them gently on the bed of arrowhead leaves he'd already prepared.

He stood back, smiling as he admired his handiwork. It was a simple cake, but it had taken him all day to create it. That didn't matter, Katniss was worth it, and today was a special day. Four years ago, neither of them believed that they'd see their twentieth birthdays and now they were living quietly together in this brave new world. It was more than he'd ever dared to hope for. He turned to stir the lamb stew. It had taken him awhile, but he'd finally managed to replicate the lamb stew from the Capitol that Katniss loved so much. Katniss said it was even better than the Capitol version.

He checked the clock. Katniss should be home from the woods soon. The cake was done. The meal was ready. The house was tidy and he'd put fresh sheets on the bed. He just needed to put the candles -

Candles!

Cursing under his breath, Peeta started rummaging through the drawers for candles, rifling through the scraps of paper, pencil stubs and bits of twine. Ugh! Why did Katniss have to save everything? Everything except candles, that is. He slammed the drawer shut in frustration and exhaled through his teeth. Whipping off his apron, Peeta beelined out the kitchen door and made for Haymitch's house, hoping that their mentor would have something that would suffice.

The woods had been peaceful today and Katniss's game bag was pleasantly full. She wondered, absently, what Peeta had been up to while she was gone. He'd rushed her out the door this morning, ignoring her protests that today was a day like any other and she didn't want a big fuss made over getting another year older. Seam folk didn't do that, she'd insisted.

He had just held up his hands in surrender, and laughingly pointed out that only she would consider the baker baking his wife a cake to be making a fuss.

Wife. Her lips twitched upwards. She was still getting used to that. One night while eating their supper in front of the fireplace during a blizzard last winter, she'd impulsively shoved their cheese buns onto a long fork and toasted them. Peeta hadn't said a word, but his hand had been trembling when it closed over hers on the handle of the fork. They'd fed each other the toasted bread, made promises using words like 'real' and 'always', and it was done.

The aroma of Peeta's lamb stew began to tantalize her taste buds the minute she stepped through the door and into the kitchen in search of her favourite chef. He was nowhere to be found, but she knew he couldn't be far. The stew was off, but still warm in the pot. She was so enamoured by the stew that it took a few minutes to notice the cake. He'd taken care to make it appear simple, but she'd learned enough about baking now to know anything that had such elegance was never simple. Still, it looked delicious.

Shedding her coat and boots, Katniss made her way through the house and up the stairs. She heard the water running when her feet hit the landing between the first and second floors and followed the sound into their bedroom. The bathroom door was ajar and she approached it on silent feet before pushing it gently open.

The room was filled with the soft glow of candlelight. Candles were perched on the windowsill, the counter top. On a small bench she remembered seeing in the living room. And in the middle of it all was Peeta, tying up a sachet of what she could only assume was lavender.

"I'm back," she spoke softly, trying not to startle him. He turned around with a smile. "What's all this?"

"Your birthday surprise," he told her. "No fuss, like I promised."

Katniss quickly closed the space between them, and stroked Peeta's face with her fingertips. He pressed his cheek into her hand.

"You like it?"

"I love it," she assured him and then pressed her lips to his. "I'll love it more once we're in there."

Peeta's eyes sparkled like sapphires and the soft smile he wore spread into a crooked grin. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she replied, already tugging his favourite red sweater out of his pants.

Some time later, Katniss lay against Peeta's chest waiting for her heart rate to return to normal. The water was starting to cool and her stomach was rumbling.

"I guess I need to feed you," Peeta said with a laugh.

Katniss raised her head and smiled, once again marvelling at the number of candles in the room. "Just how many candles did you put out, anyway?"

"Twenty," he told her with a grin. "Happy birthday, Katniss."