A/N: I feel there aren't enough fics out there about how Peeta interacts with his brothers. I'm hoping to change that though this story.

I must give special credit to Hagios for allowing me to use the names she chose for Peeta's brothers in 'Masterpiece'.

Disclaimer:The Hunger Games and all the characters in this fic are the property of Susanne Collins.

Enjoy!

"Will that be all today, Mrs. Gawalski?" The towheaded, stocky seventeen-year-old lopped what he knew to be a debonair smirk, locking his deep glacial blue eyes with those of the quickly reddening middle-aged woman across the counter from him.

The aforementioned gawked, seemingly trapped in the depths of oceanic blue in his eyes before wrenching her gaze down to the neatly wrapped package in her hands. She cleared her throat, almost as if choking before replying half-sternly through a bashful grin. "Hasn't your mother taught you it is crude to look that way at a married woman, young man? Honestly! You're a year younger than my Ivy!" Her pale blue eyes dashed around the bakery as if to reaffirm to herself that there were no other patrons to overhear their exchange. "What would people think of you if they saw?"

The teen released a soft chuckle, leaning strong arms forward on the counter and recapturing her gaze. He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "No worse than they'd think of you for the particular shade of rose creeping up your neck into your flushing cheeks or the fact that you haven't slapped me and scrambled out of our shop in an outraged tantrum."

Once one blonde, intrigued- if cautiously anxious- eyebrow shot up on her pale features, he knew he had her. She huffed out a defeated breath, the grin never leaving her lips as she shook her head. "I swear, you Mellarks will be the death of me." She conceded in a mock-annoyed tone, then quickly added, "Fine! Add a dozen rolls to my order. I never stick to my budget when I come in here and one of you three is manning the counter, anyway. You boys could probably figure out a way to sell water to the ocean."

She continued to rant half-heartedly as the young man wrapped the rest of her order, rang it up and accepted her payment. "I honestly don't even know where any of you get this little gift for persuasion from. Your father barely speaks two words to me when I come in here and your mother…"

She bit her tongue to keep from saying anything further about the woman who'd given birth to the boy in front of her once she noticed the pained look flit almost imperceptibly across the oceans that were his eyes. Nothing needed to be said. Everyone in the district knew exactly who the baker's wife was. She decided to divert the conversation into something more pleasant- at least for her.

"Ivy's out of Reaping age after this year and she's been asking an awful lot about you lately, you know." Her eyes seemed to shimmer at the naughtiness of what they both knew she was proposing.

The grin was back full force now as he retorted casually. "Yeah well, Shale Holloway is out of Reaping age this year and he's been in here asking a whole lot about Ivy too."

Her grin faltered as she sighed somewhat dejectedly at the prospect of her daughter courting and marrying the apothecary's son. She let her disappointment color her reply. "Yes. He's been coming to dinner and asked us for permission to take her out on walks around town… He's not a horrible suitor by any means, mind you, but he is certainly no Flax Mellark."

The smile on his face grew impossibly arrogant as he once again leaned forward, allowing his already deep baritone to become a rumble. "Well, I'm certainly sorry to disappoint two such lovely young ladies but I'm not out of the woods until after next year's Reaping and, unfortunately, all Merchant boys can't be me." He knitted his nearly flesh-colored eyebrows together, protruding his lower lip in his very best attempt at a sincerely attritional pout before his eyes dashed to the large display window at the front of the store, catching sight of the dark-haired girl making her way toward the bakery.

He immediately straightened, beginning to untie his apron. He shot an apologetic grin down at the older woman before him. "I'm sorry to cut our lovely conversation short, Mrs. Gawalski. But, I just remembered I have to run an errand for my folks. See you again on Tuesday?"

The oblivious woman only returned his smile, picking up her parcels as she headed towards the door of the shop. She didn't bother hiding the contemptuous sneer that spread across her features as the door bell chimed and in walked a tiny, thin Seam girl with eyes the color of steel. She simply shrunk into herself to attempt to round the girl on the way out of the shop as if she had leprosy, calling back over her shoulder, "Of course, Flax! See you next Tuesday!"

She might as well have directed the words at a deaf person for all the impact they made, though. The seventeen-year-old's attention was focused completely on the tiny, introverted girl standing a few feet in front of the counter, whose eyes darted around warily as if she felt completely out of place where she was standing.

He scrambled as quickly as he could out of his apron while sending her the most welcoming smile in his rather large arsenal and beckoning her forth warmly, trying desperately not to scare her off- right before he turned his head back towards the kitchen, screeching for his youngest brother to get his butt out here to take care of this customer.

Fawns were rare. You'd think they weren't, what with District Twelve being surrounded by woods and all, but they were.

Apparently, mothers bred their young further out from the limits of the fence then it took to get to the lake and back. Even the trek to the lake took half a day, so going beyond meant spending the night in the wilderness, outside the protection of the fence. Not even the steel-eyed, underfed fourteen-year-old was foolhardy or desperate enough to do that.

Therefore, when a yearling wandered under her blind in an oak, lost and grunting plaintively for its mother, she could have jumped for joy- had it not meant plummeting twenty feet to the forest floor and breaking her neck, that is. The four wild dogs she had to shoot down to keep her price weren't bad collateral either.

That fawn sure did make a lot of noise calling for its mother before she pierced its humongous black eye with an arrow. Of course, it was going to attract competition… or more game. It was really a matter of perspective to a hunter, wasn't it?

She'd needed to enlist Gale's help in getting the carcasses under the fence and the fawn to Rooba who'd given her a slightly lesser price for this one than the one she'd used to buy Prim's goat a couple of month's back- something about it being a doe and doe meat taking longer to cook or something.

She didn't particularly care.

She'd more than made up the difference in the price of the meat in what she was able to get for the magnificent pelt in trade at the Hob. She'd gotten new shoes for Prim (who seemed to be growing twice as fast as she was for some odd reason), a ten by ten yard spool of cotton fabric which could be used for anything from bandages to making clothing if dyed by her mother and several spools of thread. Add to that, the week of soups she'd traded with Greasy Sae for in exchange for the two dogs she could claim and she was sitting pretty.

And even after splitting the money she'd gotten from the butcher for the doe with Gale for his help, she still had enough coin to get her family a treat after she picked up the venison steaks that were always part of the deal when they brought in a deer.

She decided to treat her mother and baby sister to a loaf of bread- real bread, still warm, from the bakery. It was such a rare treat for them, but then again. Fawns were rare as well.

The thought of Prim's eyes widening in excitement at the sight of real bread permeated her consciousness so thoroughly that she was barely aware of herself making the journey from the Seam to the Town Square and up the stairs to the bakery.

She only truly became aware of her surroundings once she was through the door and felt the glare of some random Merchant woman as she passed her on the way out of the shop. The way the woman shied away from her and out the door was a stark reminder of why she hated coming to this part of the district unless it was through their back doors to trade.

Seam and Merchant did not mix. She didn't belong here.

She realized she'd been frantically looking around for an escape route when a kind, deep voice broke through her frenzied thoughts of flight, causing her eyes to meet the darkest blue imaginable that wasn't actually black.

She'd seen Flax Mellark around school before. He was a year above Gale and very popular. In fact, he was the only boy she ever heard girls giggle and talk about in the hallways as much as they did about her best friend.

The girls at her school considered him handsome and she figured he probably was to someone who was looking. His hair was such a pale shade of yellow, it was easy to see his name choice wasn't exactly taxing on his parents at the time of his birth. He wasn't as tall as Gale. None of the Mellark men were particularly tall, not even the baker who was fully grown. But, they were all large-boned, broad-shouldered and bulky. They had the kind of frame that could hold ridiculous amount of muscle-mass if they dedicated the time it took to gaining it. Since they were Merchant, she figured they probably ate well enough to achieve it if they tried.

Flax looked like he was already halfway there. He was built like a train. Even though he was moving his large arms in the most nonthreatening way conceivable as he removed his apron, she couldn't help but swallow hard at the thought that he could crush her like an insect with a flex of his forearm and bicep.

"How can we help you? You can come closer. I promise you I don't bite and if you've heard otherwise, I'll go to my grave denying it… unless, of course, you've heard of my biting as a good thing. In which case…"

She almost let her lips quirk up into a smile at that. This boy didn't behave towards her as she expected a Merchant boy to- as she'd experienced other Merchant boys behaving towards her. It both perplexed and intrigued her. She found herself moving inexorably closer to the counter.

She froze in panic when he suddenly turned his head toward a door behind him and screeched for his younger brother to come help her.

Her stomach dropped. She knew who this boy's younger brother was. She'd been trying to avoid him for three years. She'd been trying to avoid the guilt.

However, when the reply came from what she supposed was the kitchen; she actually did smile and had to suppress a laugh. It was clear the younger boy did not intend to come help her. He was obviously busy doing something else back there.

At least, she was getting a nice show if not any service. She did find the exchange between siblings hilariously entertaining. That is, until Flax noticeably paled at the grocery list of girls his brother insinuated he was trying to escape his shift at the counter to go see.

Every single girl he mentioned was Seam.

This took her aback a moment. She'd never for an instant thought a Merchant boy would even spare a sideways glance at a Seam girl- especially Flax Mellark. This was the heir to the bakery, for God's sake! Their firstborn son! Any girl, Seam or Merchant would chop of an arm to be with a man who could guarantee a full stomach and a safe warm bed for her and their children.

Why would this boy even consider a Seam girl? And the way his brother made it sound, he only considered Seam girls! Was he insane? Had he met his own mother? That crazy harpy would beat him within an inch of his life if she ever found out about that! Everyone knew she beat them! Everyone knew she hated anyone from the Seam! Did he have some kind of death wish?

So engrossed was she in ruminating this little revelation that she missed whatever it was Flax told her when she explained she could come back later, before he furiously commanded his brother to come to the counter then stormed out the front door of the bakery.

She followed him with wide, shocked eyes until he was out of sight of the large display window, then turned her head back to the other side of the counter. Her gray eyes locked with the fluid azures belonging to Peeta Mellark.

She wasn't sure she'd ever seen this boy angry before.

He loved working on wedding cakes. Even if this was one of the saddest toastings he'd ever attend, he'd still enjoy working on the cake.

The cobbler's daughter was marrying the tailor's son tomorrow and his father had left him in charge of decorating their cake.

This girl did not want to marry the tailor's son.

He knew her fairly well. He was in the same year at school as her younger sister. He knew the bride's younger sister even better. She had really soft lips. She'd told him her sister really wanted to wait for Flax but Talon had asked for her hand and their parents had forced the issue stating the old standard 'What if he's reaped and you loose your chances at either of them?'

He hadn't had the heart to tell her that her older sister was nothing in the range of his oldest brother's usual palate of taste in women either way. That or his normal fourteen-year-old hormones decided the point was moot and therefore, he just kept making out with her instead.

He was able to gleam some useful information for the design of the cake during their date, though. He learned the cobbler's oldest daughter loved horses and her most cherished childhood trinket was a music box in the form of a carrousel her parents gave her.

His heart went out to the girl upon hearing that. She should have been born in District Ten. At least then, she might have had a chance to see a real horse- maybe even ride one. As it stood, she would likely never see a horse and she was marrying a man she had barely ever spoken to. It sucked.

Well, if she was going to be wrangled into a loveless marriage, he'd make sure she'd have one last beautiful memory before she was relegated to her fate. For this reason, he sat on his haunches before the cake splayed on the large metallic prep table in the kitchen of his parents' bakery, intricately frosting the reigns on the fondant horses he'd carefully cut out and shaped all around the circumference of the cake to make a perfect replica of the bride's carousel music box.

He was infinitely grateful for his amazingly steady hands when, after listening to Flax flirt nonsensically with Mrs. Gawalski, who could easily be their mother, for twenty minutes, the bell to the front door jingled and he spoke to whoever came in so softly he couldn't make out what he was saying through the door. That is until the shrill tenor rang clear through to the kitchen and startled the living daylights out of him.

"Peeta! I need to leave on an emergency errand! You need to come out here and help out this customer!"

He let out a slow breath through his nose, gently backing the icing bag away from the cake before backing away himself and turning to the door. He made sure to project both his frustration at being interrupted while doing what his brother knew to be extremely intricate detailing on a cake and just the right amount of anger to get his point across. "You can't ditch your shift, Flax! I'm not your relief tonight, Rye is. Until he gets here from wrestling practice, you'll just have to deal. I'm not exactly playing around back here!"

He could almost see his brother run his hand through his hair in frustration before the huffed response came. "You can stop what you're doing for ten minutes to help out one customer! I really need to do this! Get out here!"

He had been lifting the bag back toward the cake after his first response but lowered it, violently snapping his head back toward the door to spit out, "No, Flax! I'm already missing wrestling practice to finish this! I'm not covering for you again! You know what? Maple Braun, Spruce Englethorpe, Kalmia Rosen, that Inglehouse girl or whoever else the flavor of this week is can wait until Rye gets here to relieve you! I need to finish this!"

He immediately went back to work on the icing after his rant, letting his words sink in, which apparently they had, since he didn't hear any further conversation from the front of the store for a couple of seconds. That is, until a somewhat timid female voice reached his ears. "I-I could always come back later if it's more convenient…"

Okay. There was just no way that was who he thought it was. She would never set foot in here, would she? Not through the front door! Not as a customer!

She only ever came here to trade squirrels with his dad, always accompanied by that Gale kid who could be either her cousin or her boyfriend. His stomach lurched involuntarily at the jealousy that last prospect evoked.

And even in the remote circumstance that she was actually in their shop, what had he ever done to his oldest brother that he was making him go to the counter and talk to her?

Flax was one of three people in the Universe who actually knew who and what this girl was to him!

His stomach completely dropped, once his brother's veiled threat rang loud and clear though the door.

"Don't be silly! He'll be right out to help you with whatever you need. He'll have to explain it later to Mom if he doesn't." Flax made sure to enunciate that last part emphatically before continuing. "I'll be back in a few minutes... Peeta! Get out here or so help me..."

Peeta literally flung the icing bag across the kitchen in frustrated rage. There was no 'explaining' anything to their mother and Flax was fully aware of that. The only 'explanations' that ever took place between them and their mother involved her taking out whatever frustration she had on their hides and them being grateful they were built sturdily enough to withstand the onslaught. Well, that and trying to hide the bruises the next day at school, of course. Although, everyone knew where all three boys received their bruises. They all wrestled, but wrestling didn't leave the welts and even burns they sometimes sported.

Using her against him now was a low blow. They never ratted each other out to her… never. And he'd even yelled in that tone only Flax out of the three of them was capable of achieving- the one that made him sound like her. Even Flax hated that he could sound like her when he was angry enough!

Peeta choked down the suffocating feeling of betrayal and stepped out of the kitchen into the front of the bakery. Once he saw her, turned away to follow his brother's form as the older boy hastily retreated out the front door of the bakery, he found his mouth had gone completely dry.

Huh. That was odd. Wasn't the mouth's primary function to produce saliva so people could chew? He hated his stupid traitorous mouth!

Once she started turning her head back in his direction, he felt an overwhelming urge to flee. But, of course, he found his muscles wouldn't respond to his frantically shouted inner commands to move. He hated his stupid traitorous muscles!

Then her beautiful steel eyes locked with his and nothing in his body responded to his commands anymore. In fact, the last rational thought he had before his mind became a mush lost in the depths of gray that were Katniss Everdeen's eyes was:

I hate my stupid traitorous oldest brother!

After what felt like an eternity of staring into each other's eyes- but was in actuality only a few seconds- one misinterpreting the intensity as anger directed at her for her inconvenient presence in his shop and the other unable to stare at her with anything but intensity due to his elation at having her here, Katniss dropped her gaze to the counter. Her brows knitted together in a determined scowl as she stated firmly, "I'd like one loaf of bread."

Since he was so entranced by the way her mouth moved as she spoke, he was slow on the uptake as to what she had actually spoken. It took her looking up at him questioningly to actually get his body's motor functions to react in compliance with what the girl before him (the girl who headlined his dreams) had asked of him.

Luckily, he had wrapped and rung up bread so many times in his life, the function was completely mechanical for him at this point and needed almost no use of major neuron interaction. He was fairly certain higher brain function was lost to him for the time being. He hadn't even spoken a word to her. Was he still capable of speech? That was higher brain function, right?

The jolt that raced from his hand through the rest of his body from the brief moment the skin of her hand made contact with his palm while handing him the money for the bread managed to make his breath hitch and he went completely rigid, clenching his fist so tight he left angry red half moons where his nails bit into his palms. Of course, she never noticed. She'd kept her eyes adamantly burning a hole through the counter the whole time.

Once she'd handed him the money she picked up her parcel, turned heel and made what was almost a mad dash through the door.

The moment he saw the door shut, Peeta ran to the kitchen, braced both hands on the metal prep table and brought his forehead down on it with such force, he was completely bewildered to still be conscious after doing it.

He was such an idiot!

"Hey! Where's the fire? He wasn't a jerk to you, was he? You know he'll have to answer to me if he was, right?"

Katniss hadn't even been fully aware of where she was going until Flax's voice broke into her consciousness, causing her to pause abruptly and turn toward where he stood poised to reenter the bakery. The meaning of his statement finally registered.

Did the way she'd run out of the bakery make it look like Peeta had mistreated her as a customer? Had she managed to get him in trouble yet again? She didn't know his older brother but he had seemed kind enough. Would he really tell their mother about his reluctance to come out and help her? Would she be responsible for yet another one of his beatings?

She found she couldn't stomach the idea of that. She already owed that boy a debt that she had yet to figure out how to repay. There was no way she was going to conscience his receiving more of that witch's abuse as a result of her doing.

"No!" The desperation in her voice surprised even her. She tried to level her tone as she added, "He was perfectly nice to me. He's always nice to everyone. I just need to get home while the bread is still warm." With that, she turned and dashed away in the direction of the Seam. That was enough of a half truth not to ring false, after all. A Merchant boy probably had no idea that her family would eat this bread cold or stale or in whatever other state she brought it home. This was real bread!

Flax let out an exasperated huff before entering the bakery, heading straight for the kitchen. He couldn't help the sad grin that split his features at seeing his baby brother hunched over the metal prep table with his forehead resting against its cool flat surface. He leaned down right beside him, resting his weight on one arm as he brought the other up to rub commiserative circles on the younger boy's back.

He didn't stop when the fourteen-year-old huffed indignantly and attempted to shrug him off, preferring instead to question softly, "You couldn't even bring yourself to talk to her, could you?"

Peeta braced himself on his forearms and lifted his head to lock eyes with his brother in a venomous sneer. "How dare you threaten to tell Mom on me to force me to go out there! How could you? You know how I feel about her! I trusted you with how I feel about her and you do this to me!"

Flax couldn't help cringing at the hurt in his little brother's eyes or the way his voice started faltering toward the end of his statement. He continued rubbing his back soothingly, allowing both the commiseration and attrition he felt to soften his normally deep speaking voice. "Come on, Peeta. You must have known somewhere deep down inside I would never turn you in to Mom. If anything, I'd take a beating for you. We both know I've done it before. Not to mention, I was the one ditching my shift. There was no real leverage to that threat at all. If Katniss hadn't spoken, you would have realized that and called my bluff right away- told me to shove it. You just don't seem to think straight when she's around."

At this point, his eyes shifted from his little brother's to the boy's forehead, widening at the sight of a nasty bruise forming there. "Did you slam your head into the table?"

The younger blonde let out a self-deprecating scoff. "Like you said, I don't think straight when she's around. Maybe I thought if I hit it hard enough I'd rattle something loose and I'd actually be able to function like myself."

Flax clucked his tongue, straightening and pulling his little brother by the arm toward the refrigerator. He pulled a chunk of ice from the freezer and settled it in one of the kitchen towels, pressing it against the deepening bruise on his forehead. He looked down with honest concern at the boy. "I know it was a dirty trick, Peeta. But, it was the only thing I could come up with in the spur of the moment. Honestly, when are you ever going to have a chance like that to actually talk to her again? She never comes in here and even if she does, she's always with Gale. I can't wrap my mind around this problem you're having with this one particular girl. You're not old enough to date according to Mom and Dad's rules and yet you've already managed to go out with half a dozen girls behind their back. So, it can't be that you're afraid of getting caught or getting in trouble or even a beating from Mom. You've already managed to get one of those for her. We both know you're not the slightest bit shy and if being around me and Rye the last few years has taught you anything- you're certainly not naive. What is it about this girl that makes it so hard for you to talk to her?"

Peeta just stared at his oldest brother for a moment as if really analyzing his response (and maybe even himself) before responding with a shrug. "I like the girls I go out with, but I wouldn't really care if they turned me down. Half the time, I expect them to turn me down and am completely floored when they don't. I think I'm either better-looking, more charming or funnier than I think I am."

Flax had to laugh at this, throwing in his two cents. "My vote's for funnier. You're too scrawny to be good-looking and if anyone is charming out of the three of us- it's definitely me."

Peeta rolled his eyes dramatically adding, "Don't forget your overwhelming humility. After all, you would never want anyone implying you're a self-absorbed blowhard, now would you?"

The older teen chuckled, walking leisurely back to sit at one of the stools by the table. "Perish the blasphemous thought!"

Peeta sat down the towel with the ice, reaching down to pick up the icing bag from where he'd thrown it. He wiped the tip with a clean towel and set to work on finishing the cake for the toasting tomorrow. He didn't bother looking up from his work as he directed his comment at his brother. "Shouldn't you be in the front? Mom and Dad are about to get back from getting this week's supplies from the train. You're going to get in trouble."

Flax only shrugged one shoulder, responding nonchalantly, "I can hear if anyone comes in from here and Rye's about to come home from practice. Plus, you were saying about why you can't talk to dream girl…"

The fourteen-year-old spared him a rueful sideways glance before spitting out. "The girls I've gone out with have all been nice, but I don't really feel anything for them, so they can't hurt me- not really. Katniss can hurt me. She's the only girl who's ever been able to make me feel anything that wasn't completely superficial and transitional. If I were to ever speak to her and she were to turn me down…" He let out a slow rasping breath, shuddering at the mere thought of that, "Let's just say, I'd rather never talk to her than have to weather the aftermath of her rejection."

"You're a pathetic coward!"

He was so shocked at his brother's candid outburst; he snapped his head to face him. He couldn't hold his recriminating gaze once he'd found it however. "You're right." His voice was almost a whisper. "But I am trying to work up the courage to… If I can make myself strong enough to accept it if she doesn't want me, I could talk to her. We could maybe be friends. I-She just has this effect on me… I need to become stronger…"

Flax felt sorry for the kid. He'd honestly thought this was just an infatuation he'd get over once the right opportunity or another girl presented itself, but it was only getting worse with time.

His little brother was hosed.

He got up out of the stool and slapped the younger boy one last time on the back condolingly as he walked out to the front, leaving the lovesick teen alone to finish his icing.

Peeta concentrated hard on the detailing of the cake. He didn't want to think about how beautiful Katniss had looked or the jolt he'd felt when their hands grazed one another earlier. He didn't want to acknowledge that he was grateful to his brother for forcing him out there in the first place. After all, what kind of sick person would acknowledge that a terrifying, horrible trick turned out to be the most exhilarating thing to have happened to him in the last three years?

And even worse than any of that, he couldn't think of Katniss because the realization had struck him that if it had taken something this cruel to force them to so much as interact with each other, what would it take to get him to actually speak to her? Even the thought caused a brief involuntary shudder. He couldn't think of any of that.

All he could do was hope whenever that unspeakably horrible moment presented itself, he'd finally be strong enough to voice what he'd waited all these years to say.

FIN

A/N: I don't know if this should be a one-shot or if I should add another installment with Peeta interacting with Rye. Please let me know if this is something you would like in your reviews.

Please Review!