Another long wait. I know, I know. I'm sorry.

But, on the bright side, I went to the midnight release of the Hunger Games yesterday, and died a little because of how amazing it was. So I woke up this morning and decided to finish this chapter, which sat half written on my computer since January.

I know exactly what I want to happen in the next chapter, it's just a matter of writing it, but hopefully I can get it up soon.

Anyways. That's enough.

Here's the next chapter. It's a litter bit of a filler, but with more f bombs than usual, so hey, maybe its worth giving a shot.

Read, review, but most importantly...

ENJOY!


I don't really think Gale will fully overlook the fact that we were being threatened. Even now, walking through the populated town square, his grip on my hand is painfully tight, out of protection rather than affection. I knew I had to get him to read the letters, it was getting out of hand, but since he's paranoid they've managed to bug the whole town, we only talk about it in the ISA building.

I should be happy he knows now, but somehow, it's increased my paranoia as well, but more for him than Keidan and I. The threats seemed empty enough, but every morning that Gale goes hunting, I nearly go mad fearing that he's been shot. It's been a month, and while the terror ebbs a little bit everyday, his only increases. Maybe it's because they're planning something big to get this Lennox guy. How do I know they're doing this?

Because I've been allowed into the ISA. The reasons behind it are not ideal, but getting in is getting in, and I'm not one to complain about access to the facility with the highest security regulations in the country. Okay, well I can only go where they have offices, but I know there's floors with all sorts of different shooting ranges, armories etcetera, etcetera.

"Johanna?" I blink and Gale's looking down at me, grey eyes questioning.

"What?"

"I asked if we need bread," he says irritably. The expression scrawled across his features tells me that he's wondering what's wrong with me, but I'm not about to tell him I was daydreaming about what sort of guns they might have in his building.

"Maybe," I reply, shrugging. We're standing in front of the bakery, which has a line of about twenty people stretching onto the cobbled stone of the square. Turning as much as Gale's grip on my hand allows me, I spot a store opposite to the bakery, where two people are leaving with a small package, smiling excitedly. "I'm going to go over there while you wait."

Since Melaina offered to look after Keidan this afternoon, I reckoned Gale might let me out of his sight for a moment, considering our child isn't in any danger if I wander off. He's turned too, but shakes his head. "Not happening."

"Holy fuck," I breathe, a few people passing by shoot me disapproving glares. "If you haven't forgotten, I'm older than you. I think I can wander across the square by myself."

Gale's face is stoic, and his thumb rubs gently across the back of the hand he's holding. I can't read anything in his expression.

"And we've established that they want to kill you more than me."

This strikes something. Eyebrows furrowing, his eyes fall on my face, and then down my body. What the hell is he doing? Then he looks out at the crowds of people. I must be getting fat, because he never gives me a once over with such an expression. Usually, he's practically drooling with desire.

But then I think about it. Any thoughts of looking at jewelry rush from my mind, and I consider the small dark blue summer dress I'm wearing, and wonder if it is indeed accentuating my body like I thought it was.

Here's the thing about having a baby in February in District 2; even after you've worked off all the extra weight from carrying around a child in your abdomen for nine months you don't get to show off your body until summer. For the first three months, I was too exhausted to wear anything but baggy sweaters and baggy pants and I barely even brushed my hair. And it was blizzarding every other day, some days it was impossible to get out of the house. Somehow, I managed to return to my former petite state before I had Keidan, and as I slowly began paying more attention to my fashion choices again, the need to show my body off to the world had become this idea that nagged at my mind for months. It's a little bit conceited, but I don't share these thoughts with anyone. So here I am, wearing a dress with a tight fitting bodice that falls just above my knees. I realize in horror that my ankles are probably still fat; how can anyone possible burn off ankle fat? And maybe I have a muffin top I never noticed.

What the fuck have I done? There's a massive probability that I look a thousand times worse than I think I do.

"What?" I sneer, upset that his gaze alone has made such horrible thoughts run through my mind.

"Nothing." Then he steps into line for the bakery, ultimately deciding that we need bread, while I decide I need to get to climbing trees again or something so that I can be as fit as I used to be.

I allow myself to critique my outfit stealthily. My toes are visible past my stomach, which seems flatter than I've been working myself to believe it was. With my free hand I touch my hair, and its silky smooth, and the possibility that maybe just my hair is greasy vanishes. Casually, my eyes travel to Gale's choice of clothing. He's wearing the pants he went hunting in this morning, typical, and a grey long sleeve shirt bunched up to just below his elbows. Its summer, would've it just been easier to wear a t-shirt? It's not even a nice shirt, it has dirt smears along the hemline, and it's so worn that the edges of the sleeves are splitting. The material isn't even thin, it's almost sweater like; pretty soon he's going to have sweat stains everywhere. Okay, compared to Gale, I look amazing.

The line doesn't budge, and I'm thinking maybe we don't need bread; he just doesn't want me looking at jewelry.

"Alright, Mr. Hawthorne," I begin. He doesn't acknowledge that I've spoken. "I'm going to go across the square, because I'm a grown women, with great self defense skills, and because I want to go look at some jewelry."

"Really?" He says sarcastically, regarding me with a bemused grin. "I've never seen these skills."

"Ugh," I groan. "I survived the Hunger Games twice. Of course I have some."

"When you were seventeen," Gale reminds me. "And twenty-three. Plus you don't need anything else."

No. He did not…

He didn't just say that.

I splutter. A problem I have with Gale is that he doesn't like money. We're probably some of the richest people, yet here he is dressed in what looks like an outfit he found buried in some hole in the forest. It probably was buried in some hole in the forest. He lets me humor myself with clothes, but only to a point. This dress for example, I convinced him that Melaina's aunt bought it for me way of saying, "Congratulations! You don't have baby weight anymore!" It's the only way I was allowed to keep it.

I'm about to rage, but Gale shakes his head, smiling. "Fine. I have to ask Melaina's aunt something anyways."

He's totally going to interrogate her about the dress.

Melaina and Archer grew up in another town just south of this one; Melaina was raised by her father because her mother died in childbirth. During the rebellion he was killed, fighting on the rebel's side. Her aunt and uncle lived here, running the jewelry store before and after the uprising. To say her family never approved of Archer is an understatement, but then her cousin married his older brother, Ryder.

Archer surely got his determination from his brother, but Ryder reminds me more of Gale with his silent fortitude than of his brother. Their parents died when Archer was eight, which might explain some of the hitches in his personality. While Archer wanted to be a Peacekeeper, Ryder joined the rebels and fought under the command of Lyme.

The union of their daughter to the elder Karis proved that Archer was the only poison in the Karis bloodline, and they've convinced themselves that with the whole family living in such close quarters, Archer's almost as respectable as his brother.

We lose our spot in line, stride to the shop. Halfway there, a red headed man stops Gale, and though he's incredibly familiar and greets me as well, I can't put a name to the face.

"Paylor confirmed it today," the man is saying excitedly. Gale smiles too, but whatever they're speaking of has made him uneasy. "Except we each get twenty."

"Twenty," Gale repeats quietly. "So maybe we should find seconds."

Nodding the man's face turns serious. "I was fine not having my own, but this gives someone else an opportunity to step up. Karis picked Destera, in place of me."

Gale's calculating something in his mind. "Tell Sunny to have a revised list of candidates on my desk for tomorrow."

And then the man is gone. The numbers mean nothing to me. The entire exchange is completely foreign and Gale tells me it's not important when I ask; which instantly tells me that it is indeed very important.

A bell jingles merrily as Gale ushers me into the store. For some reason, I love that the place reminds me of the finery I saw in the Capitol. I hated every ridiculous thing to do with the place, but I always admired the modernity and clothing. While I would never dream of wearing anything as elaborate as they did, I'm taken with anything to do with fashion. Nobody in our town dresses like someone from the Capitol, nobody dresses in rags either. Five average people mill about the store, whose brightness is increased by the position of the sun at the moment. Since most of the people living here are involved in the ISA in some way, no one is lacking money to buy things either. Despite the finery presented here, it's still homey and inviting.

"You two just missed Melaina and the boys."

Melaina's aunt is one of the kindest people I've ever met, but she's really quite spacey. It must be a District 2 thing.

"Jo wanted to look around actually," Gale tells her kindly, pushing me almost roughly to a display case on the far end of the room. Opal – coincidence that her name is a gemstone – tells me to look around, and take my time. I wander away, my longing to buy something waning considerably after Gale's serious conversation with the red headed man.

"I haven't seen Keidan in weeks!" Opal is gushing. A quick glance backward shows me that Gale's forgotten about my dress now, and is preoccupied whatever's going on at the ISA. "He's grown so much."

"Yeah," Gale says back, catching me staring at him. My eyes flick away and I focus instead on a ring with a modest amount of diamonds embedded in its golden braid. "He's getting big pretty fast."

"Leos was walking around in here, adorable thing," her voice reaches a whole new level of delight, and I suddenly want to leave. Gale must want to die. "Is Keidan crawling yet?"

"He's getting there," Gale replies. Except that our baby has not showed any signs of crawling, but it'll happen. Soon. The tone in his voice is one only I can detect, and it's evident he wants to escape the conversation.

I glide back over to him, and stand on my tiptoes to reach his cheek. To anyone else it looks like a kiss, but I whisper, "Okay, you win."

"Sorry, Opal," I say sweetly, acknowledging the older woman. "I just remembered I didn't feed our dog today. We really have to go."

Her gently wrinkled cheeks rise into a smile. "Oh don't worry! I will tell Melaina I saw you."

I'm about to tell her there's no need for that, since we're supposed to get Keidan at five, but Gale's arm snakes around my waist and he slides me away. I'm in front of him facing the door. Observers would see this as affectionate, but his sturdy hands force my body forwards, until we're out in the square again.

"Why are you so moody?" I hiss at him. We're walking past the bakery line, which is considerably short. "I thought we needed bread."

"I thought we needed to feed the dog," he retorts.

"So we don't need bread?" I nearly scream.

He shakes his head, and it suddenly dawns on me. The staring at me, at the square. The sudden need to ask Opal something. The man. Paxton.

"You're kidding me," I stop and step away from Gale. Now I shove him with my hands, but he barely moves. "You're away from that place for a day and you casuallycross paths with Paxton, who immediately fills you in on what you've been missing."

"That?" Gale asks. His head spins around as though trying to find someone else whose watching me go mad. "That was not planned."

I scoff and stride away from him. "My balls it wasn't planned." More critical frowns from passersby. Refusing to look back, I continue on my path, which takes me to a street that will lead to the edge of town where we live. Footfalls behind me tell me Gale's following at a safe distance.

We're nearing the house when Gale's hand catches my wrist and he jerks me to a halt.

"You," he says breathlessly even though he hasn't been running. "You need to stop."

He's heavy, but I muster the strength to pull him another five steps onwards. We're six paces from the front door. Frustration overrides my resolve to ignore him and I spin around.

"I need to stop?"

A light chuckle escapes his lips. Dammit. His eyes. The sun's captured their steely beauty and I lose myself for a moment. "You are the most ridiculous person I've met." Gale's shaking his head again.

A blink. His eyes are so gorgeous. He's so gorgeous.

Then our lips are together, our tongues together. Powerful arms snare my waist, and he's picked me up off the ground. My arms are wrapped around his warm neck and he's moving to the house. It ends too soon, but I'm still pressed firmly against his body, despite my being on the ground. His back is towards the door, and my face is cupped with the hand that isn't unlocking it. The kissing resumes as we stumble over the threshold of our home.

"It's alright," I say glancing at the clock when we're in, Gale walking backwards holding me tightly. I have to peer around his shoulder and eager mouth to read the clock properly. "It's four-thirty." He doesn't seem remotely concerned with the time.

My arms are still entrapping his neck and his hands are firmly on my hips. His head is craning down, and our kissing resumes, so much so that I'm unaware of what's happening around us. Gale moans against my mouth, craving more than he's getting. Suddenly, I've been spun around and the door slams shut. I open my eyes to realize than one hand has left my hips and forced the door closed, though Gale's lips continue their hunting along my jaw. The tender skin of his mouth leaves delightful tingles in its wake, teasing ghosts of his touch.

I'm unsurprised when his warm soft fingers slide up under either side of the bottom of my dress, leaving burning streaks up and down my thighs. Instinctively, I do the same, but my fingers crawl up the front of his shirt, playing gently in the valleys of his rippling muscles. Gale's hands manage to reach my bra, sliding around to the back and snapping the clasp apart before I can comprehend what's happening. In one fell swoop he's managed to pull my bra from under my dress, and it flies carelessly over his shoulder. I pull back for a moment, panting as thought I've been climbing a mountain. We've only made it a few paces from the front door. Gale doesn't seem to notice my preoccupation and then the tips of his fingers are sneaking back down my body, tantalizingly sliding beneath the waistband of my underwear.

"Down," Gale gasps; breath steaming hot in the crook of my neck below my ear. He's talking about my clothing, not me, and he's taking my thong off and it's fallen to my around my ankles. "What's wrong with you?"

I freeze. "What?" the fire kindling in my stomach sputters and begins dying.

"My fucking clothes…" Gale breathes fervidly. His head has craned down again and his lips are pressing against mine, coaxing them open, stimulating the fire within me again. I don't need to be told twice, and he disengages his hands from me so that I can begin to tug his shirt over his head. I'm too short though, but we're so accomplished in this art that in less than a second the grey garment has join my bra on some unknown section of flooring.

Before I can kiss him again, because if I don't do it soon I'll explode with desire, he's unbuttoned the back of my dress, and slinked me out of it. Then we separate and I step back into him, my eyes fluttering shut in anticipation of a kiss. Again, I'm denied. Gale is just studying me, his grey eyes intense with passion. His arms are crossed across his chest, and a smirk plays on his lips.

"I knew it! I knew I was getting fat – " I begin, suddenly vulnerable under his piercing gaze.

"No," he shakes his head, still smirking slyly. "You're beautiful."

Finally, when I've closed the distance, I get my kiss. Apparently the momentum of my body is enough to make Gale stumble backwards, and hold me tight to his body. I work at the zipper of his pants furiously, and the snap that results could either be them breaking, or me successfully unzipping them. Either way, the fact that his pants are on the floor is an achievement, no matter what the means. I won't be satisfied until he's entirely naked though.

"Boxers," I gasp. "I broke your pants." I'm trying to hint that maybe he should take them off himself before I do anymore damage, but he's too busy leaving a trail of tender kisses down my cheek and neck. The moment I break away from his lips, a low eager groan grows from some animal place deep in his chest. He's stepping out, but I'm clutching his face in my hands, our lips moving together in an ancient dance.

But we're on the ground. Gale's tripped on his boxers around his ankles, distracted by my tongue. We must've moved somewhere between throwing our clothes off because the fireplace is beside us, a rug underneath our naked beings. I'm flat out on my back, Gale's body radiating heat onto me from above. We're roaming up and down the expanses of each other's bodies with our hands.

"Ignore it." Gale says, kissing my stomach. I sit up abruptly, our legs entangled in each other. Then I hear what he's referring to. The phone is blaring incessantly. Gale is considering me closely, inches from my face; does he really think I'd go and get it?

Rather than springing up to answer it, I drown out the noise by immersing myself in Gale's neck, biting softly. I don't even notice when it stops; Gale's fallen backwards and my lips are against his temples. His strong, burning hot hands cup my hips and push them down. We move in sync with each other now, our muscles and ligaments practiced in the movement required.

Our bodies are slick with sweat, limbs weary with exhaustion. Gale's the first to stop, pulling himself away from me. His face is slightly contorted in pain.

"What?" I whisper softly, moving in again, gently kissing his lips. He doesn't need to say it, his ribs. My fingers fall softly on the thin scar running down the right side of his torso where they cut to operate. We're both perspiring so intensely though that my hands slip off his body. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he whispers back, opening his eyes. Now he's cradled my head in one hand and the kiss is so slow, but urgent at the same moment I don't want it to ever end. It doesn't end as my legs slowly hitch around his hips and we roll so that I'm over top of him, my hair resting on his shoulders and chest. We've managed to conserve enough energy to keep going somehow. Gale's grip has slid past my hips and my own is tight on his shoulders.

"And here I was terrified you've both been kidnapped." It's neither of our voices. "How stupid of me, right? Considering everything that's happened."

I refuse to look up. I know who it is. Maybe if I make him uncomfortable enough he'll leave. Despite my previous resolve, I've popped up to see that Archer is two feet away on the opposite side of the table. The shock of me being fully naked in front Archer is too much apparently, because Gale has tugged me back down to him.

"We're fine," Gale practically growls, shifting so that he's elevated on his right elbow, muscles rippling delectably. His hair looks as though he's just rolled out of bed and been attacked by a grizzly bear. Archer doesn't care about our state; he's stepped around the table and stand where our legs have become tangled. I could care less about having Archer see me completely naked, but Gale finds a blanket – that fucking blanket that got me pregnant – and tosses it over me, covering his own parts with a pillow. I gag. I'll have to wash that later. "How the fuck did you get in here?"

Archer is fuming. The scar marring his cheek makes his whole face look more twisted in disbelief than it is. His dark green eyes roll like it's painful to look at us. Which it probably is. "I turned the doorknob." Archer bites his lip, like he's actually thinking before he speaks. "Would it kill you stop fucking each other and answer a fucking phone call?

Gale doesn't seem ready to answer, staring at Archer incredulity all but pouring from his eyeballs. He doesn't seem ready to speak.

"I checked the whole ISA building. I checked the square. Opal said you came here. I called your houseline. No answer. Then the phone in your office you never use. No answer. I didn't know where the fuck you two were."

"Archer," Gale says, smothering his face in frustration. Then he drops his hand. "We're fine." The words are meant to excuse Archer, but he invites himself to collapse on the couch.

"Naturally you'd be having sex. It's completely ridiculous that I was scared for you two…" Archer's voice is sopping with sarcasm.

"It is ridiculous. They couldn't kidnap both of us together," Gale groans with annoyance. Archer's still firmly planted in place on the couch, exasperated that we weren't kidnapped. Since the kid doesn't seem eager to stop blowing his top at us, I scoot into Gale's body, placing a hand soothingly on his warm chest. His heart's beating rapidly, and I find myself begging him silently not to lose it. I was planning on getting back to where we had left off… Gale's eyes are cold when they meet mine, but they soften ever so slightly when I move in to resume our kissing. I'd go all the way right now if it means Archer leaving, but Gale has certain reservations when it comes to our display of affection in front of others. It's only when Gale's hold travels to my bare thighs that Archer rises abruptly.

"Alright I get it!"

An article of clothing sails from Archer and lands delicately on the glass of the table, my scarlet red lace thong. The door opens, a refreshing summer breeze rolling along the floor. "By the way you were supposed to pick up Keidan an hour ago."

Gale and I wait until the door has slammed shut to separate. Keidan has not crossed my mind this afternoon, and from the amused smirk on Gale's lips I can see he's thinking the same thing. We both fall back away from each other, wondering if that makes us horrible parents, forgetting our child. Truth is, I'm relieved we didn't center everything around him today. It's a relief almost. Not almost. It is a relief. Gale clutches my hand, and he's shaking. One glance over and I see that he's laughing, genuinely laughing. The sight is so rare I almost ignore my own laughter flooding through every vessel of my being. The fact that we're so entertained by something so silly only invites more giggling, and soon we're barking out laughs like maniacs. Maybe we are insane, what with everything that's happened to us, but in this instant I couldn't care less.


"Okay," Gale said. He paced, his shoes creating an annoying rhythm on the floor. I couldn't say what the floor was made of, just that it reminded me of the stuff on the ground in the Capitol. "They told me to be rational about this."

I'd never been in the ISA. I was only in a meeting room, with a long silver table extending from one end to the other. A giant metal ring sat in the middle of the table, but I was too terrified to ask Gale was it was. He was on the far side of the table, pacing, pacing, pacing.

"Rational," I said dully. "Because you're such a rational person."

"Johanna!" He yelled angrily, stopping in his tracks. His hands joined together behind his head and he leaned backwards in irritation. Then he released his grip and threw his arms down. "I don't think you realize how serious this situation is."

"Clearly not! Because I didn't know you were fucking involved in all this!" My voice was rising too, but I was pissed. Not at the threats, but at him, and the whole organization for keeping everything a secret. "You never –"

"Shut up for a minute! Can you do that? Is it physically possible for you to stop?"

It worked. My mouth fell shut. He had never talked to me like that. Well, yelled. My husband gripped the back of a chair, knuckles blooming white with strain.

"Thank you." He released the chair, but then turned and faced the wall, gathering his bearings. "Johanna, Tobin Lennox, is an incredibly dangerous man…"

The door slid open, Archer stepping cautiously in. Then Paylor. Either they didn't consider Gale lashing out at me rational, or this was a scheduled intervention. Paylor's heels clicked annoyingly on the floor and she sat at a chair, Archer doing the same.

"Gale," he ventured. "You need to leave."

I gawked for a moment. Did he really think Gale would take that one well? Gale's face contorted in fury as he glowered at Archer.

"Leave?" Gale sneered. He sneered. I'd never seen him do such a thing. "You want me to fucking leave?"

Paylor whispered something to herself, but a second later two huge men were standing in the room. Gale considered the floor, then the men, jaw taunt. He was sizing them up, determining if he could take them both down. By the way they were swallowing nervously, I don't think anyone present doubted he could.

"Seriously," Archer said, green eyes serious. "Go to the range. Let off some steam. Just walk, and we won't use the evil henchmen."

So much for serious.

Gale kicked a chair before doing as he was told, ignoring my gaze, shouldering his way past the burly men.

"Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," Paylor ordered the men, composed and confident. A wide array of stupid things that Gale could do in a shooting range flashed through my mind, but I decided it wasn't the time to voice them.

"Alright," Archer sighed, folding his hands together. "Sit, Jo."

I did as I was told. In the silent room, I realized both of them could most likely hear my heart hammering in my chest. What just happened?

"Don't let Hawthorne out of the building," Paylor says quietly into a tiny microphone on her shirt. This must be normal behavior because Archer ignores it. How is it that the president of Panem is always conveniently around when something goes down?

I was tempted to ask her, but Archer began rubbing his face so furiously it was almost amusing. "I don't know where to start," he said to no one in particular. "You'd think after telling my own wife, I could figure out a way to tell you."

I'd forgotten that exchange between him and I, months ago, before Keidan was born. He was at our house in the morning, talking about bringing Melaina into all of this. I finally understood.

"Does he act like that at home?" Paylor inquired out of nowhere.

"Like a complete maniac?"

"Yes."

He did. But not often. I remembered him talking about Paylor not trusting him because of his anger problems. I didn't think I'd be helping his case if I confirmed her suspicions. "This isn't marriage counseling."

Archer let out a laugh, but shut himself up quickly. "Okay, I've got it." He then proceeded to explain everything I needed to know, with Paylor inputting her own information occasionally.

And that was when I gave up on hoping to lead a normal life.


I'm fumbling in a cabinet above the sink. Makeup clatters to the counter, but I ignore it until my hands slide around what I'm searching for.

The bottle's empty.

I pop the top off as if some pills may magically appear inside, but none do.

Shit.

I'm out of birth control.

An ache begins in my gut and I'm suddenly nervous. A moment later I'm sprawled on the bed, making patterns in the wooden beams of the ceiling with my mind. The phone's heavy in my hands, but eventually I press down the numbers.

"Hello?"

"Gale." I whimper.

"Jo?"

"No," I say sarcastically. "It's Katniss."

"Jo," he's preoccupied. "I'm kind of busy."

"So you know that incredible sex we had last week?" I throw the topic at him before he can back down.

"Yeah," he says slowly.

"I did the math… I was ovulating."

"Okay," Gale's confusion is evident. "But you have the pills."

"I ran out. Last week. I totally forgot." I'm hoping the spread eagle position I'm in somehow makes my breathing slow, my speech more composed so that my words aren't in the jumble that they are in my brain.

"Oh shit," Gale pauses, thinking. "Are you…?"

"It was only a week ago. But I want to go in for tests."

"Yeah," his voice is slow. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

I swallow. "I'm not ready for another baby."

"Maybe you're math was wrong."

I've always been good at math, but I can't bring myself to remind him of the fact. "Maybe."

"Call me when you're done," he instructs. "Alright?"

I nod. "Yeah."

"It'll be okay, Jo." Then he's gone. I let the phone drop out my hand and bounce on the couch. My hands find my flat stomach.

"Please don't be a baby."


So? What it worth the wait? Let me know any thoughts you have, please leave a review and I'll try my best to reply! Oh, and thanks for all the wonderful reviews left for the last chapter, they keep me motivated!

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