"Is there any chance I can talk you into wearing Leia's gold bikini?" Gale asks as he enters the room, his shiny knee high boots clomping across the hardwood floor.
"Not even a little bit," she replies as she adjusts the pins holding her braids close to her head, the ends of which have been teased into a spiky pouf that flops jauntily over her brow.
He watches as she adjusts the silky violet tie, pulling it down slightly and unbuttoning the collar of her starched white button-down shirt. The crease of her navy pinstripe trousers follows the line of her leg to rest atop the canvas dingy white high-top Chuck Taylors. Slipping on the matching jacket, Katniss turns sideways, adjusting the cuffs and lapels as she does. Truly, this suit was a magnificent find in the bargain bin at the local thrift shop - too small for a man, but perfect for Katniss' petite frame. Completing the costume was easy – a white shirt from her cater-waiter days, a tie from her uncle Haymitch; she already had the sneakers and the sonic screwdriver.
"I still don't understand why you want to dress up like a dude for Halloween," Gale comments as he watches her in the mirror's reflection.
"And this coming from the man currently wearing leather pants, boots and a cape," she murmurs as she slips a pair of 3-D glasses into her breast pocket.
"Yeah," he replies with the bravado of a nine-year old boy defending his hero, "but Darth Vader is a Sith Lord, not to mention totally awesome. You're just dressed up like some skinny British alien dude that likes to fly around in a phone booth."
Sighing, Katniss turns to Gale, "As opposed to a heavy-breathing alien robot dude that flies around in a starship?"
"Totally different," he says as he attaches the long satin cape around his neck and unfurls it around his shoulders.
Katniss shakes her head as she leaves the room, Gale following close behind. Out in the living room she picks up the duster jacket she borrowed from Rory, and shakes it out before draping it over her arm. She can sense Gale watching her, which isn't unusual, but for some reason tonight it makes her uneasy. Lately Gale's been acting odd, touching her arm or the small of her back as they walk, lingering over hugs and smiling at her in a way that makes her feel like he knows some big secret and is waiting for the right moment to let her in on it. They've been friend, best friends, for years and that relationship suited Katniss just fine. Now, though, she gets the feeling Gale is looking for more, for something she's not sure she's prepared to give.
The feel of Gale's hand on her forearm brings her back to reality, and she turns to him with a smile. Before she can say a word, Gale is kissing her, his hands holding her head in place as his chapped lips press against hers with bruising force. The kiss is hard, his lips firm and unyielding, momentarily stunning Katniss. The rasp of his tongue against her closed lips shocks her, and her mouth opens in surprise, giving him entry. It is not pleasant, and Katniss finally regains control of her senses enough to push him away.
"What the actual fuck, Gale?!" she practically screeches at him as she wipes saliva from her chin.
"I'm not going to apologize, Katniss," he replies, "I had to do that, just once, to see if what I'm feeling is one sided."
She stares at him in disbelief, "So, what? You thought you could man-handle me and I'd be ok with that? Did it ever occur to you to just ask me, Gale? Fuck, you are such a goddam Neanderthal."
He crosses to her, and she pulls away, disgusted. "Catnip…I…I thought you knew how I felt, how I've always felt. I assumed that's why you never dated anyone else."
Katniss laughs. "You assumed? Gale, you know how I feel about relationships. Did you really think I would change my mind with a kiss?"
Gale has the grace to look chagrined at her words. "Like I said, I had to try."
"Yeah, well, I really wish you hadn't," she answers as she walks out the door.
After a tense ten minute walk, they arrive at Delly and Thom's house where the party is in full swing. 'Monster Mash' blares from the open windows as costumed revelers mingle in and out of the various rooms, each decorated with a different horror-movie theme.
Although they enter the house together, Katniss quickly leaves Gale's side and heads to the kitchen where the keg is set up. Accepting a cup of amber froth from a poor man's Walking Dead zombie knock-off, she takes it outside and sits on the padded bench of the porch swing. She blows off the foam and takes a big drink of her beer, nearly retching at the bitter, hoppy taste.
'Great, they went for bargain beer again,' she thinks miserably but finishes it off anyway in several gulps. She sets the cup on the small table next to the swing, and uses the tip of her shoe to push off gently, willing the beer to do its work and help her relax.
As the swing pendulums back and forth, she can feel the alcohol begin to wind its way through her veins, tempering the burning anger she's had since Gale's kiss.
"How dare he," she whispers to the cool night, "How fucking dare he think he can just…just do that. Like I'm going to be so overcome with passion that I can forget his caveman ways?"
Once the initial fire burns down, Katniss tries to think objectively about the situation with Gale. He has a point – she never dates, and never shows interest in anyone but him. At this thought, a flash of laughing blue eyes surrounded by long golden lashes pops into her head, but she quickly dismisses it – no use dwelling on something that never had a chance to begin with – and moves her sluggish concentration back to Gale.
Maybe she was too hard on him. She's never been good with surprises, tending to lash out or flee when things got too intense. After all, it was just a kiss, right? And if she's being totally honest, it wasn't that bad. True, she has only one other to compare it with, and that was over so quickly it almost doesn't count, but all in all Gale's attempt was decent; nice even. Again, the image of blue and gold pops into her head, unbidden and certainly unwelcome after all this time, and she quickly tamps it down.
Feeling slightly guilty, not to mention tipsy, Katniss decides she owes Gale an apology. He is her best friend, and if she can't forgive him, then their friendship is meaningless. She stops the swing, grabs her cup and makes her way back into the kitchen. She pumps the tap and pours herself another cup of liquid courage, downing it quickly to avoid as much of the low-cost taste as she can then sets off to find Gale.
Katniss makes her way through the various rooms – the American Horror Story – Circus-themed living room teeming with creepy clowns laughing maniacally from the walls and ceilings; the Hostel-style dining room, complete with severed heads and other body parts covered in gelatinous blood – looking for Gale. Finally, at the end of the hallway she finds him standing at the window of what looks like Delly's office. The room is dark except for the moonlight shining in, bathing the room in pale greys and blues. His back is to her, and she sees he's still wearing his helmet. He must either be really upset with her, or just wants to get his money's worth out of the thing. Honestly, why he had to have the one that included a voice changer is beyond her.
Quietly, she pads closer until she's an arms-length from his back. "Hey," she stage-whispers, and stifles a laugh when he jumps, whipping around so quickly that his cape flaps against her legs.
Staring up into the dead black eyes of the mask, Katniss feels suddenly nervous. Out on the porch it seemed like a good idea to find Gale and apologize, but now that she's here she's not sure what to say.
The helmet tilts to the side in question, but says nothing.
Taking a deep breath, Katniss dives in. "So, listen. I've been thinking about what happened earlier, and I wanted to say I'm sorry for reacting the way I did."
The figure before her crosses its arms, but still doesn't say a word.
"You surprised me with that kiss, Gale," she continues, "I…I wasn't ready."
Finally, he speaks, or rather the helmet's robotic voice does, "Wait, I…"
Katniss doesn't let him continue. "Just stop for a second. You know I'm not good with words, and if you interrupt I may not be able to get this all done."
"But, Katniss, I'm not…." she stops him with a hand on his arm. She knows it's just the alcohol coursing through her system, but in the back of her mind she thinks something is different about Gale. His forearm feels thicker, more muscular than usual, as if he does a lot of work with his hands. Another vision swims across her eyes, this time of strong flour-hands kneading mounds of dough, which she quickly sweeps aside.
"Gale, I know, you're not sorry about the kiss. And…and…if you aren't too mad at me, I'd like to try again. You know, now that I'm ready. For it. I mean."
At this his arms drop to his sides, and his head jerks back as if struck. "Katniss," the monotone voice pleads, "I don't think that's…"
She quiets him by reaching up and pushing the mask back, just enough to free the bottom half of his face. She marvels at the fullness of his lips. 'How did I never notice that before?' she asks herself as she runs her fingertip along his jaw. In the moonlight the soft stubble along his chin glows white, almost translucent, and feels as soft as down.
Before he can say a word Katniss reaches her hand behind his neck and pulls him down, meeting his lips with hers. This kiss is the polar opposite of the one in Gale's apartment – tender, gentle, and infinitely more devastating. The tip of her tongue reaches out, questioning, and he responds in kind with light touches that intoxicate her more than the crappy beer she had earlier.
She pulls the helmet off and drops it to the floor, lost in the sensations his kiss elicits, and plunges her hands in his hair. 'So silky,' she thinks as her hand plays with the short hairs at his nape. With a very un-Gale-like moan, he deepens the kiss, his gloved hands cradling her cheeks as his mouth moves sensuously over hers.
Katniss eyes open and she's met with silver surrounded by nearly white lashes. 'Amazing how the colors change in moonlight,' her muddled mind thinks.
A waft of cinnamon mixed with something musky teases her nose, and in her defenseless state the memories from several years ago come rushing back.
Madge dragged her to the party senior year of High School. It was the last one before graduation, and she insisted that Katniss needed to 'live a little' before heading off to University. Despite her best efforts to the contrary, Katniss found herself roped into playing Spin the Bottle with the rest of the drunken crew later that evening. Luckily, the odds were in her favor, and the bottle passed her by spin after spin. Eventually, though, that luck ran out and when the spinning glass receptacle stopped, it was pointing directly at her, no doubt about it. Gulping, she looked up into the equally shocked eyes of Peeta Mellark, Captain of the wrestling team, and her secret crush for, well pretty much since forever.
She could hear the snickers from the group; Madge's gasp from her spot next to Katniss, and feel her own heartbeat speed up until her pulse roared in her ears. Peeta's eyes bored into hers, a similar look of shock coloring his features. The fact that he seemed just as nervous emboldened Katniss as she leaned over the bottle. Peeta licked his lips and met her halfway, their lips touching for the briefest of moments before he pulled away. Katniss felt her cheeks flame at the catcalls and whistles of the others, and it was all she could do not to run her fingers over her tingling lips. Across the circle, the tips of Peeta's ears burned pink as he stood quickly and excused himself. For the rest of the part, after he returned, she felt his eyes on her, only to have them flit away in a blur of blue whenever she looked his way.
It was her first, and until tonight, only kiss.
Guilt washes over Katniss and she pulls away, breaking the kiss. She turns and crosses the room, appalled that she could think about Peeta while kissing Gale. Why her beer-soaked brain insisted on puking up images of that night, of that one glorious moment, was a mystery.
When she reaches the door, she turns back, relieved to see that he'd put the helmet back on. "I…I'm so sorry," she chokes out before opening the door and running down the hall.
Back in the kitchen, she gets herself another beer. By now her taste buds have given up and the cold liquid slides down her throat to pull in her nearly empty stomach. Vaguely Katniss knows she needs to eat something or she'll regret many things come morning, but at the moment she's too overcome by guilt to care.
Feeling unfit for the general public, Katniss holes herself up in kitchen, moping about her current predicament. Every now and then someone comes in and makes a comment about her costume, usually asking where she parked the TARDIS or if she and Rose ever got it on. For the most part, though, Katniss' trademark scowl keeps people away, leaving her alone to wallow in her thoughts.
Eventually, reality sets in and she knows she needs to find Gale and apologize, yet again. 'Shit,' she thinks, 'at this rate he's going to realize my indecisive ass isn't worth the effort.'
She stumbles out of the kitchen, and makes her way back down the hall. This time, though, the room is empty. It takes several minutes of drunken searching for her to finally locate Gale – sprawled across the couch in the living room, with a gold-bikini-clad blonde draped across his lap. The woman's hands are buried in Gale's dark-brown hair, and his hands clasp her barely covered ass as she shamelessly grinds against him.
"What. The. FUCK. Gale?" she yells, not caring that everyone's eyes are on her now.
The pair on the couch spring apart as if scalded. The blonde takes in Katniss' look of death, and leaves, not bothering to adjust the cups of her bikini top that were showing more nipple than considered appropriate in mixed company. Gale's look of confusion would be funny if Katniss didn't want to punch him in the neck. Hard.
"Katniss?" he blinks up at her, "What's the matter? Did something happen?"
She reels back, furious that he could forget their kiss so quickly.
"Yeah, Gale," she spits at him, "something did happen. But apparently it didn't mean the same to you as it did to me."
Tears threaten to overwhelm her as the roiling emotions of the night finally break over her.
"What? What do you…" Gale starts, his confusion only aggravating her further.
"You know what, Gale? Go to hell." Katniss storms out of the house, beyond pissed and ready to rumble with the next person who crosses her path.
From behind she hears the front door open, and a robotic voice calling out, "Wait! Katniss, wait a sec."
Furious, she walks faster, refusing to stop but she can hear his footfalls as he runs after her. "Katniss, please!"
"Fuck you, Gale. Fuck you and that stupid helmet." she yells over her shoulder, not caring that it's after midnight in a residential neighborhood.
All she wants is to get back home, remove this ridiculous costume, and drown in a pint of cookie dough ice cream. This is why she doesn't do relationships, this is why she's content to remain alone – there are just too many chances for heartache once you let someone in. You're better off keeping people at arm's length where they're less likely to rip your heart out and stomp it into the ground.
'Liar,' her inner voice chides, 'You're just a big ole chicken-shit.'
Heavy footfalls behind her remind Katniss that Gale is still in pursuit, and she breaks into a run.
"Katniss, wait!" a familiar voice shouts, this time human and not robot. Katniss' stride falters as she realizes it's not Gale, rather someone else, chasing after her.
She stops and spins, panting from running and is shocked to see Peeta Mellark jogging up to her. He's wearing the same Darth Vader costume as Gale, and is holding the voice changing helmet under his arm.
Her jaw drops as he comes to a stop in front of her. "Peeta?" she asks unnecessarily.
His mouth quirks up in the little half-smile she remembers from High School, and her heart stutters in her chest. "Hey."
"But, but…what? I thought…you…what?" she stammers, trying to wrap her head around the fact that he's here. Last she heard he'd gone across country for college and never came back.
"I moved back a few weeks ago," he answers her garbled questions, "My dad decided to retire and I'm taking over the Bakery. Delly invited me to the party, and well….yeah."
"Oh. That's….nice."
Katniss does a mental face palm at her muddled brain's response to the information. She's not sure how to process the fact that he's here, and talking to her. She hasn't seen him since….well, since that awful party back in high school when they kissed.
At this thought, something pokes at the back of her mind, like an annoying younger sibling. She tries to swat it away, but it persists, eventually finding a way past the lingering effects of all the beer she had to drink. Almost simultaneously two very important thoughts gel in her mind – Peeta is wearing a Darth Vader costume, and earlier tonight she kissed someone in a Darth Vader costume. No, not just kissed, shared a soul-searing intimate moment with someone in a Darth Vader costume.
She thought she was kissing Gale, but as it replays in her mind, the facts stack up in another way that should have made it painfully obvious – the pale lashes, bleached white by the moon, silver eyes that could just have easily been blue, cinnamon and the musky scent she always associated with Peeta, the soft lips that were nothing like Gale's.
"Fuck me," she breathes, "It was you. You were the one in the room, not Gale."
Peeta's smile dims and concern clouds his features. "Yeah, it was me," he confirms, running a hand through his disheveled waves.
Katniss stands silent in her mortification, heat blooming across her neck and face as she relives the moments with him. How shamelessly she reacted to his kiss, and how guilty she felt thinking about him when she thought she was kissing Gale. "Oh my God. Oh. My. GOD. OHMYGOD."
Panic sets in and with it the flight instinct she wears like a favorite sweater. Katniss turns to flee, but before she can take a step Peeta's hand gently encircles her bicep, stopping her in her tracks.
"Wait, please don't leave," he begs, "I just want to talk."
Every fiber of her being screams for her to run, not walk, away from this situation and pretend it never happened, but her legs refuse to cooperate. Instead she nods, and Peeta lets go of her arm, stepping back as if he can sense she needs space, both literally and figuratively.
Embarrassment keeps her from meeting his eyes, so instead she focuses her gaze on the bright red and green diodes blinking on the breastplate of his costume. On and off they wink in sequence, mimicking LEDs on an actual PC. They're almost hypnotic, and Katniss feels strangely comforted by their constant flashing.
"So, as we've established," Peeta begins, "that was me you kissed, not Gale. Before you yell at me for not saying anything, I feel I must remind you that I did try, but you were a woman with a mission and wouldn't let me get a word in."
Katniss recalls him trying to speak, and her not letting him finish. 'This is why it doesn't pay to be impulsive!" she mentally scolds herself.
"I'm sorry, Peeta," she confesses, "I didn't mean…"
"Well I'm not," he interrupts as he steps closer, "the truth is, Katniss, that I came tonight hoping I'd run into you. And if I did that I'd finally have the balls to say something to you instead of just staring like some creepy stalker."
"What?" His admission stuns her, and she finally looks him in the eye.
Peeta closes the gap between them, taking her hands in his. "Katniss, I have had a huge crush on you, pretty much since we were kids, but you intimidated me so much I could never work up the nerve to say anything. Then that bottle, which I kept by the way, landed on you and my heart stopped. Here was my chance to finally let you know how I felt, and I totally ruined it by having zero control over my prepubescent body.
But tonight, when you walked into the room it was if I'd been given a second chance. Yeah, it sucked that you thought I was Gale, but I don't regret going along with your mistake for one second. That kiss was amazing, Katniss. And if you'll allow it, I'd like to take you out on a proper date, and hopefully work up to some more."
Katniss blinks, unable to wrap her head around Peeta's confession. He's had a crush on her for years? He came to the party hoping to see her? He wants to date her?
"Wait, what do you mean no control over your body?" She knew what the phrase usually referred to, but that couldn't possibly be what he meant.
In the dim light she can see the tips of his ears glow pink. "Um, well, you don't realize the effect you can have, Katniss."
Oh. OH! He did mean what she thought he meant. "So that's why you left the circle."
"Yeah…." he lets the word trail off as he scrubs the back of his neck in a nervous gesture she's come to recognize.
"And you want to….date me?" her voice sounds small, unsure, scared even.
"If you'll allow it," he smiles at her, and she can feel any doubts and insecurities fly away on the night breeze.
With a blinding smile of her own she takes his hand, lacing her fingers with his. "I'll allow it."
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little tale. I'm thinking of doing a part 2 from Peeta's POV that will take things further, if there's interest.
Thank you to Sohypothetically for the inspiration, Revenge of the Nerds for the Darth Vader costume idea, Chele20035 for pre-reading & Titania522 for correcting my horrible mistakes.