Author's Note: Part iii of the prompt: Your parents are extremely overprotective and hired me to be your bodyguard. (gadge) (if you please)

Madge knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn't help it. She had been unable to stop thinking about Gale since that night at the bar last week. They had only spent twenty minutes together, but within that twenty minutes he had been a far cry from the aloof, professional bodyguard he usually was, chatting casually with her whilst his arm had brushed against her own, raising goose-bumps and making it hard for her breath normally.

Then it was made worse by how Peeta had teased her about how flirty her bodyguard had been after Gale had returned to his friend whilst Katniss had looked confused at the whole situation.

Now, she was taking things into her own hands and pulling out every rom-com trope she could think of.

First, she'd taken advantage of the hot sunny day and parked herself by the pool in her tiniest, most flattering bikini. Then she had waited for her father to leave for his next meeting. Now, she waiting to put the biggest rom-com cliché of them all into action.

"Gale?" she called, pushing herself up on her elbows so she could see him.

A large shadow blocked out the sunlight as he walked over from the shade where he'd taken refuge. "Yes, Miss Undersee?"

"Could you do me a big favour?"

He quirked an enquiring eyebrow at her.

"I want to turnover but I don't have any cream on my back. Could you be a dear and put some on please?"

"What?" he choked out and she suppressed her smirk at his flustered facial expression.

"My back. It needs sun cream otherwise I'll burn."

"But-" he spluttered.

"Please, Gale," she said pleadingly. "I really don't want to have a tanned front and pasty back."

He visibly gulped and slowly stuck his hand out for the bottle of sun cream.

"Thanks," she said, handing it over.

Once Madge was on her front, she gave a victorious smile as she felt his weight descend onto the sun lounger.

Let's see how stoic you are now, Gale Hawthorne.

She all but jumped as his large hands, greasy with cream, touched her back.

"Sorry," he grunted. "It's cold. I probably should have warned you."

"It's okay," she squeaked, trying her hardest not to moan at the sensation of his hands smoothing the cream into her skin.

This was meant to be affecting him not her, but she thought she was going to pass out at how great it was to finally have his hands all over her – albeit in a much more platonic situation than she'd day dreamed about.

He cleared his throat and she used it as her cue to unexpectedly turn over.

Gale's cheeks were flushed and his pupils enlarged as she faced him. They stared at each other for a long moment before he said quietly, "What are you doing, Madge?"

"Hopefully moving things forward."

"This isn't a good idea. You know it's not a good idea."

"Why? I like you and I think this," she said, pointing to the colour in his cheeks, "means you like me."

He ran an agitated hand through his hair. "Because I'm your bodyguard and there are guidelines against getting into situations like this."

"Situations like what?" she pushed.

"Becoming entangled with your charge."

"Is that what you are - entangled?"

"I could be," he whispered, dropping his eyes to her lips.

Madge shrugged and closed the space between them. "I'm not stopping you. In fact, I'm actively encouraging you."

"Your father would have my head," he whispered.

"Who says my father has to know?"

She pushed herself even closer to him, so close that she could practically count his ridiculously long eyelashes, and licked her lips. His eyes dropped to her lips again before his head dipped and his mouth brushed hers. Surging up, Madge wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing her fingers through the hair at his nape and pressed her lips firmly against his. Her tongue swiped along his bottom lip, demanding entry and he groaned as he compiled, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks.

Engrossed as they were in each other, neither of them heard the slide of the French patio doors or the stuttering footsteps. It took a loud cough to gain their attention. As they sprang back from each other, Madge could see the panic in Gale's eyes as he looked up and swore softly under his breath.

She turned her head and saw the angry face of her aunt's ex-husband and Gale's boss, Haymitch Abernathy.