Okay, I forgot to add on my first chapter that I have no ties to Hunger Games (does anyone really think I do?) and it all belongs to Suzanne Collins, who screwed up the third book's ending and that's why I'm here on fanfic, stuck in the never ending Everlark universe. Do you people realize there are over 40,000 thg stories just on this website? God help me, I will never find my way out.
Now don't get pissy with me if you love Suzy C. I was just unsatisfied with the end. The rest I loved! I don't have a beta, and any mistakes are mine, even though I will probably continue to reread and make edits. I just wanted to get it out there since I'm sick of staring at it and want to move on to chapter 3. ;) please review. If you have something crappy to say please use the sandwich method and at least say two things you like about it. **Double winky smiley face so you won't say something crappy** ;);) Thanks for the reviews, favorites and follows! Gracias!
Okay, here's what's going on in my head with pilot Peeta and flight attendant Katniss...
Chap 2
Midway into the flight I've got the drink cart out and I'm almost at the end of the aisle serving drinks and snacks. Our flying time today is eight long hours, so I've got another four to think of something smart and hopefully sexy, but not slutty, to say to the new co-pilot who I heard from Madge is named Peeta. I am glad I had received this bit of information since I'm sure it will make it seem like I at least heard what he was saying to me, even though I ran off without saying anything back. That's usually what happens to me when I don't know what to do; fight or flight mode kicks in and there was nothing to fight about, so flight was my only other option.
All I can think about is how magnetic the attraction I feel for him is and it's been distracting me this whole time. I've had to ask many of our passengers to repeat their drink preferences to me. I can still feel the place on my upper arm where he steadied me from stumbling and thinking of his smile is making my stomach tumble like a gymnast at the Olympics. I really want to see him again but at the same time I hope I don't have to face him. Maybe I can just catch a glimpse from far away, not having to relive my earlier embarrassment. Surely my mind is playing tricks on me, though, and he's not nearly as hot as I had thought him to be this morning. It was 4:30 A.M. after all and I hadn't had my coffee yet, so the possibility is likely.
The last half of the flight has gone by pretty uneventfully. Until, while collecting the trash from the passengers in our last effort to clean up as much of the plane as we can before we land, I have the unfortunate luck of standing too close to a small, airsick child. My back is to him and all I feel is a warm splattering of something thick and chunky down my backside and dripping down my legs. The smell, I immediately notice, has to be from bananas and I let out a small cry of panic as I realize what just happened.
I'm not quite sure what to do because at that moment a voice, which I recognize from this mornings brief encounter, comes over the system announcing to the attendants to be seated for landing. How am I going to be seated for landing? I can't sit down with vomit on my ass!
I see Madge has already folded her seat down at the front and fastened her seatbelt. I'm not able to get her attention as she's looking through a magazine and I don't want to yell and startle the other passengers. While the parent frantically apologizes to me, and a handful of onlookers close to the mess stare at me in wonder, I tell her not to worry and we'll get it all sorted out soon. I've got a few minutes before the plane touches down so I walk to the very back of the main cabin into the bathroom to clean off my skirt as best I can so I'm not dropping chunks of vomit down the aisle. After I'm decent, but still disgustingly smelly, I take a wet rag and walk quickly to the place in the aisle where some of the vomit remains and begin to clean it before the passengers form a line to exit the plane and drag it along with them.
As I kneel down to scrub the carpeted aisle a strong gust of wind carries the left wing of the plan higher, causing it to tilt to the side enough to throw off my balance. I fall to the right and hit the side of my forehead against the metal base of the seat next to me. I feel a searing pain and a warm trickle down my hairline. I reach up to touch it and when I pull my hand back my fingers are stained red. I stand up and make my way back to my seat, not making eye contact with any of the passengers, to wait for landing. I will have to deal with everything after the plane is cleared off. This is not good.
I sit down and belt myself into the seat behind the lavatories and out of view of most of the passengers. I am beginning to feel a little dizzy and light headed. I lean forward and place my hand over the right side of my head, trying to stop some of the blood from flowing. It's not a gusher, but its not slowing down, either. I feel the wheels touch down with a jolt and the breaks kick in and start to slow us down. The blackness begins on the outer edges of my eyesight and then slowly spirals in toward the center.
-–-
I feel my head being pushed back from its slumped position and held into place against the headrest while something cold touches my right temple.
"Ouch!" I hiss as I squint my eyes and jerk my head away from the direction of the touch.
"I'm sorry, but there's blood all over the side of your face and we really need to stop the flow." I hear the same voice from earlier over the PA system and I realize it must be Peeta. I snap my eyes open, and sure enough, stare into his blue ones again. He's definitely as hot as I had first thought. Maybe hotter since he's touching me again.
He looks a little worried and I notice a fearful tone to his voice as he asks me, "What happened? How long have you been sitting here?" He wrinkles his nose in a funny way, as though it's dissatisfied.
I look at him blankly for a minute, trying to remember what did happen, and then I smell something. It smells like rotten bananas... Oh, right. Now I remember.
" Ummmm," I start as I try to form a coherent sentence. "I tried to clean up vomit from the aisle, and not long before we landed." That's about all I can come up with, which is fine since I'm not much for words. The passengers have all cleared out and I hear someone running down the aisle. Madge appears a few seconds later with the first aid kit. Peeta takes it from her and after cleaning the cut with the most gentle hands I've ever experienced, he moves my hair back a little to assess the deepness of the gash.
"It's not too bad. Nothing a little glue won't fix." He says, some of the concern leaving his face. He applies the glue to my cut and leans forward to give it a blow to help it dry. His breath smells minty and his perfectly plump bottom lip is so close that I wonder what kissing him would feel like. I want to suck it into my mouth and lick it. Is it weird that I'm disoriented and at the same time having a small fantasy about this guy I barely met just hours ago? It's a good thing he's probably mistaking the look in my eyes for confusion and pain rather than the lustiness I'm feeling right now.
He unlocks the seatbelt at my lap, dangerously close to my center that is choosing this moment to come alive, and tenderly reaches around me under my arms to help me up. I take this opportunity to get a slow whiff of him. God he smells amazing! It's cinnamon-y, but in a manly way. Who knew cinnamon could be sexy on a dude? I could stay right here and live in that scent forever. I think he notices me smell him because he chuckles lightly for no apparent reason. His laugh is warm and inviting and somehow makes me feel comfortable with what I've just done, rather than terrified of it.
The feel of his arms around me, helping me to stand is just adding a layer of intoxication to my already woozy state.
"I can take over from here." Madge chimes in and I make certain she sees me give her the death scowl. I'm famous for it and everyone close to me knows what it means. I have never needed help and normally would refuse these gestures. Oddly however, I find myself wanting him to take care of me. It's a little disconcerting seeing as how I don't really know him, but I feel like I can just tell he's the kind of guy you bring home to meet the parents. If you have them.
Madge changes her mind quickly after making eye contact with my glare. "Actually I better go help Finn clean up that vomit. He looks a little green." She smiles sheepishly and walks towards the fourth member of our group, our pilot, to offer a hand. Finnick Odair is as handsome as they come, but he never gets emotionally invested in the women he sees. He's a really nice guy and a great friend, so it's a shame not many people get to see it.
I feel a slight pressure around my waist as Peeta begins to lead me down the aisle toward the exit. As we approach Madge and Finnick they stand up, turning to face us.
"Hey, Kat. Are you feeling okay?" Finnick says, as he brushes my hair back and squints his eyes in the direction of my cut to see the damage.
"Just a little light headed, but otherwise I think I'm okay." I reassure him with a slight smile that doesn't quite meet my eyes.
Peet stands slightly behind me to the left and has one arm still around my waist and the other holding my hand, I guess to keep me balanced. As good as it feels I realize we haven't really even met, save for my embarrassing run in earlier this morning, and I'm still noticing that I reek of banana bile and notice Finn and Madge backing away a little.
"Yeah, yeah, I can smell it, too." My eyes turn to small slits as I give them the "back off" look.
I drop Peeta's hand reluctantly and turn to face him. He's way too close for my liking at the moment, since I'm hyper aware of the state of my clothing and appearance.
"Thank you... For ummm, this." I say, raising my hand to the dried glue on my hairline and trying not to keep eye contact too long. I fear those eyes could see right into my dirty thoughts.
"Hey it's no problem at all." He says with an easy tone and I realize he's my polar opposite; easygoing, likeable, confident, probably has tons of friends, a beautiful spouse... I look down quickly to his left hand at that thought. Okay, maybe a girlfriend, I think as I breath out a little relief at the sight of his bare finger. "Maybe you should see a doctor just to get checked out?" He says with concern on his face. It's so nice of him to care about someone he doesn't even know. I somehow feel utterly safe with this stranger that doesn't really feel like a stranger at all.
"I think I just need to lay down for a bit. Really, it's just a small cut. You said so yourself." I remind him more sweetly than I thought was I was capable of. What has gotten in to me? Glancing over at Finn and Madge I see the same confusion in their faces as I have in my head. They don't know what to think of me either.
"You may have a concussion. In fact, I'm quite sure of it." Finn says in a completely serious tone, but the sarcasm is not lost on me. Madge silently smirks and looks between Peeta and me and I'm thankful Peeta doesn't notice the exchange. I need to get out of here. I hate being the center of attention and their stares are making me feel like the walls of the plane are closing in on me.
"Really, Finn, I'm fine." I say in a more harsh tone, beginning to push my way past him.
"Ah, there you are! Thought I lost my friend there for a sec." He chides and smiles his knowing smile. "Come on, lets get off this plane and get you to the hotel for a much needed shower and change of clothes." He pinches his nose together with his thumb and index finger and I take this moment to punch him square in the shoulder, to which he just laughs obnoxiously.
We walk to the front of the plane, grab our bags and exit onto the jet bridge. Peeta offers to pull my bag, but I really don't want to seem too needy so I just say thanks, but no thanks and grab onto the handle. He's already helped me today more than I've ever let all my friends combined help me, and the thought of being dependent upon any one person kinda rubs me the wrong way. He seems a little dejected and I feel bad, but I'm not about to change who I am for the thought of something that may not ever happen. If there's ever a guy that wants me he's going to have to want all of me, so why start pretending now?
I fall to the back of our small group, taking it slow up to the terminal. Madge is in front of me and I move to the side to get a better view of Peeta's ass through his suit pants. The way they cup his firm bottom makes my hands sweaty as I contemplate caressing and kneading it with my fingers. They're not super tight but he fills them out perfectly and they move gracefully with him as he walks. I have never wanted to be a pair of pants until this day.
I catch Madge looking at me and nodding her head in agreement. I blush and look somewhere else. How can this guy be so perfect already? There has got be a flaw somewhere, and I think I'd like to be the one to find it. I must have hit my head pretty hard because I do not know where these thoughts are coming from, especially since I just brushed him off after he was so attentive to me. Maybe I should see a doctor. Maybe he could play doctor with me...
Oh. My. God. Are you serious right now, Katniss? No, you're not. If you were serious you wouldn't be fantasizing about a coworker on the job! Mind out of the gutter, mind out of the gutter, mind out of the gutter. I continue to chant this to myself as we're walking, hoping to be distracted from sexy thoughts of Peeta. Damn it! I should have walked in front of him.
We grab a taxi to the hotel. Finnick takes the front and I end up in the middle between Madge and Peeta. I should have taken the seat next to the window because the smell from the rear of my skirt hasn't gotten any better, but I just couldn't let Madge sit by him. I take this opportunity to finally introduce myself properly to him, pushing most of the anxiety I'm feeling aside.
"I'm Katniss, by the way." I say as I extend my hand in his direction. "I'm sorry about, um," I clear my throat from that last bit of nerves, "running into you this morning."
"Peeta Mellark, and don't worry about it." He takes my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. Please don't let go, please don't let go... I hear my head screaming out. I realize I've been holding my breath because when he finally does let go of my hand I release the oxygen from my lungs. Crap. I feel like a giddy school girl and I know I'm totally embarrassing myself. He is never going to return whatever these feelings are that I'm experiencing.
The cab pulls up to our modest hotel. It was a bumpy ride and I was jostled into Peeta more than once, but I was grateful for the unintentional contact. I'm not so grateful, however, for the roommate that's going to make the intentional contact I want to have with myself later an impossibility. As we exit the taxi and Finn and Peeta remove our bags from the trunk, I grab mine and hastily make my way to the front desk so I can check in, get a shower and remove these stinky clothes.
Madge and I share a room, and after I've showered, sent my uniform down to be laundered and perched in the middle of my bed the phone rings. It's only mid afternoon, but the guys must be calling to make dinner plans.
"Hello?" Madge answers. "Yeah, let me ask her..." She puts her hand over the bottom of the receiver. "Do you feel up to going out for dinner?"
"Ummmm, not really. I think it'd be better for me to order in tonight." As much as I would love to go out with the guys, or rather just the one guy I've spent the day fantasizing about, I'm really tired and its probably for the best that I don't allow myself to get carried away.
"I think we'll just stay in tonight, Finn. Katniss needs to rest." She says a quick goodbye and hangs up.
"You didn't have to do that, Madge. You should go with them. No use in two of us staying in." I offer as I lay my head back on the pillow and stare up at the ceiling.
"Nah. I'll stay with you and make sure you don't pass out from hitting your head. Plus I'm looking forward to some girl talk about the new guy. He's friggin' hot." The smile she gives me is mischievous and I know she's going to try to push me tonight.
"I really don't do girl talk, Madge, you know that."
"Come on! You have to admit he's a looker. I saw you checking him out anyway, so you can't hide it from me." I knew she caught me staring while we were leaving the jet bridge.
"Fine. He's attractive." I say, rolling my eyes and waving my arm dismissively in the air. "It doesn't mean anything."
"Kat, I have never seen you give a guy the time of day. It definitely means something when you're ogling him from behind and can't even find words to speak to him."
"Geez, Madge, can't a girl think a guy is hot without anything happening?"
"Yeah, maybe if he's passing by and you don't ever see him again. You work with him so you'll definitely be seeing him soon. Actually in about 12 hours so I suggest you think of a few things to say and have them ready so you don't feel like a bumbling idiot."
Ugh, she's right. We will no doubt see them at breakfast and we have a few hours after that before we catch our eight hour flight back to our home base.
Before I can reply the phone rings again. This time it's Gale. He doesn't usually call when we're on a route so it must be important.
"Hey, Katniss." My stomach feels knotty when I hear him use my real name. He usually refers to me as Catnip, a nickname that stuck after we first met and he thought he heard me introduce myself that way.
"Hi. What's up?" I'm trying to sound upbeat to deflect some of the seriousness I know is coming. It's hard to work for your best friend and I really don't want things to be awkward between us if whatever this is goes to a weird place.
"Finnick filed an injury report today." Great. I'm going to lose my job for not following the rules and Gale is the one calling to fire me.
"Okay...?" I add, trying to lead him to just get it over with.
"What were you thinking? You can't just disregard the rules. They're there to protect you and the company." From his tone I can tell he's not mad at me. In fact, he sounds concerned, but I know he still has a job to do.
"I'm sorry. I guess I just thought it wouldn't be a big deal. I was only trying to do my job." I say defensively, but that doesn't fly with Gale. He knows me better than anyone.
"Well, it is a big deal." Here it comes. "You'll have to ride back on the plane tomorrow. I'm calling in a replacement for the flight and as soon as you get back to base you will be checked out by Dr. Aurelius. When he gives his consent that you can be released to fly again you can get back on the schedule."
"A replacement?!" I try to argue but Gale stops me with his next words.
"There's more." More? Oh, I'm getting more... more defensive by the minute. Okay, it's not as bad as being handed the pink slip, but why does there need to be more? He's already replacing me on tomorrow's flight and now I'm being forced to see a doctor. Why, oh why, did that kid have to chuck it on the plane? It's all his fault. I swear I am never having kids.
"You'll have to retake the safety course."
What? I have to sit through the basic safety course again with all the rookie attendants? I start to panic as I think of the humiliation I'm sure to feel when I walk in that room and the gossip that will start to fly about the girl who couldn't do her job right.
"No way." I answer his demands in the firmest, but sweetest tone I can possibly muster except I used up all the sweet I had stored in my sugar bank for Peeta earlier so it comes out defiant.
"It's protocol Catnip." Back to the familiar name that settles me a little bit. "A report was filed, and protocol dictates these steps. I'm sorry to have to be the one to do it. It's this or your job. You can decide." He says this last part softly, giving me the options I need to choose from so I don't feel forced into a corner. He knows me well so he realizes that by letting me make a choice, no matter how obvious, in the end I get to call this shot.
Obviously I'm going to choose the stupid class and the checkup. I like my job well enough and the thought of not getting to work with Peeta makes me wonder if this decision is being made from rational thought or a body that hasn't been woken, much less satisfied by any man, in quite a while. Two encounters with him is not enough in this lifetime. That solves it. This is definitely a raging hormone decision.
"I'll take the first one."
"I thought you would. Just relax and enjoy the flight back tomorrow, then we'll get everything settled when you get back. It'll be quick and painless, I promise." We hang up after saying our goodbyes. I'm exhausted from the day and the cut on my head is throbbing a bit so I take a couple of Advil from the small medical kit I keep on hand when I travel. It's early , but I relax into the soft pillows and drift off to a dreamless sleep.
I wake around 7 in the evening to Madge opening up the door of our room and I see her wave in whoever it is. I close my eyes to rub them and the smell of something Chinese gets me out of the bed. I sit up and notice Peeta in our room, standing by the open door with two doggy bags in his hand. He's not wearing his pilots cap so I can see that his hair is a warm gold. It reminds me of the sand on a beautiful beach at noon, when the warm sun is high in the sky and reflects shimmering specks, making them lighter than they would otherwise be. The ends curl and fall just short of his eyebrows, which are a shade darker than his hair and perfectly shaped. Surely he waxes those? I've never seen eyebrows so tidy.
He is all sex appeal in a white, fitted, v-neck t-shirt that shows off part of his muscular biceps. His forearms are thick and muscular as well, with white-blonde hairs on summer-tanned skin. I can't see his butt from this angle, but the jeans are fitted around his upper thighs so i bet they're hugging those curves like they're desperate for life. I know I would be.
He's looking over at me and his eyes are not quite reaching my face. I glance down and realize I'm in a very thin camisole, no bra and some tiny running shorts that aren't sleepwear, but I use them that way so technically I feel like I'm in sleepwear. Mortified at my appearance I nonchalantly fold my arms over my chest and stand up to move into the bathroom. I need to pee anyway. I don't have anything in the bathroom to drape over myself to hide the headlights that he was so blatantly staring at. The humiliation I felt just a minute ago wanes as I realize he was noticing me. This gives me a little boost of confidence but not enough to go back out in this state. I consider wrapping a towel around my semi-clothed body but decide against it, since that would look like I noticed that he noticed my nipples peeking through my shirt. Awkward.
I really want to thank him for the food and just hear his voice and see his eyes staring back at mine. I decide now is as good a time as any to assert myself and try not to be so shy around him. Besides, if he's checking out my body and he likes what he sees that wouldn't be so bad, would it? I run a hand through my long, wavy hair, mussing it up a bit for a sexy effect and pulling it over the front of my shoulders to cover the headlights. Then I lick my lips and pinch my cheeks until they're pink. I open the door and step out to just Madge.
"Where's Peeta?" Madge glances at me quickly.
"He left." She says, turning her attention to opening containers of fried rice and Kung Pao.
"Why?" She smirks, drawing out her single word question as if I'm a little girl with a crush.
"I just wanted to thank him for the food, that's all."
"Dressed like that? Wow you must have it bad. No offense, but it's not really your style, Kat."
"What do you know about my 'style'?" I accentuate my last word with air quotes and wide eyes and ignore the comment about me having it bad.
"I know enough." She says, not taking the bait. "I'm hungry and I don't care to argue with you and your denial about having feelings for Peeta." Good. That makes two of us. We eat watching the latest episodes of whatever's on TV. I'm not much of a television watcher. I much prefer being outdoors but it helps pass the time without having to engage in girl talk.
After we've finished eating and turned off the TV I brush my teeth and crawl into the bed. I close my eyes and let myself fall asleep to thoughts of Peeta. It's dangerous, I know, but I tell myself I'll just entertain it this one time. I plan on getting control of my feelings first thing in the morning.