'It's never too late to have a happy childhood.'

- Tom Robbins

Katniss

I'm getting pretty tired of dealing with all these crazy people. First it was Gale back on Everest, then Delly. Then Clove and Cato when we got home. Not to mention Peeta's mom. And now, Gale and Delly have apparently set up shop in Panem.

All I wanted was to start my new life with my husband in peace. To wake up in his arms and not have to worry about something or someone. While yes, climbing Everest was amazing, it wasn't easy. Sure, having Peeta made it a hell of a lot easier, but I never thought that trying to live a normal life would be this tough.

We get back to the truck and Peeta slides into the driver's side. I buckle myself into the passenger seat and we turn around to head home.

I should be thinking about how to deal with the whole Delly/Gale problem. They apparently have no plans to leave anytime soon, and they know where we live. I'm not scared of them, not one bit. I'm just annoyed and frustrated. What did we ever do to them that they have to interrupt us so rudely? To make it blatant they want to break up our marriage? What kind of people do that kind of thing anyways?

The thing is, I'm not thinking about that. Not at all. I'm thinking, again, about the fact that in two days, I'll have to refill my birth control at the pharmacy.

Peeta and I only talked about having children a couple times. While we agreed that it's definitely going to happen down the road, we also agreed to spend some time with just the two of us. We never worked out just how long we're going to wait, or how and when we'll start trying to conceive.

Every time I pop one of those tiny little pills, I can't help but wonder what would happen if I didn't. If instead, I tossed it down the drain and decided to see if we could be blessed with creating life together. I know that it's a decision I can't, and shouldn't, make on my own. It's our family, not mine alone.

The simple knowledge that I'm apparently ready to have children is mind-boggling to me. I never thought I'd have the chance or be in the position to. I never thought anyone would actually want me to the mother of their children. But Peeta's made it very clear that from the very beginning, I'm the only woman he's ever wanted to have kids with. That alone would make me want to give him children, but the fact is that I want it just as much, if not more.

"Okay, you going to let me in on the secret or make me guess?" Peeta breaks me out of my inner thoughts. He can always tell when I'm in deep thought. I zone out, he tells me.

"It's nothing," I try to deflect casually.

I don't have to look to know he's rolling his eyes.

"It's obviously not nothing," he grins. "You haven't said a word since we got in the truck."

"Just thinking," I shrug.

"Obviously," he chuckles. "What about?"

Should I just spill my guts? What would he think? He's the one who initially wanted to wait. I agreed mostly because I didn't want to force him into anything or get pregnant when both of us weren't ready.

"Can we wait until we get home to talk?" I meekly suggest.

"Sure," he nods, smiling. "I'm not in trouble, am I?"

"No Peeta," I finally smile, "you're not in trouble."

"Phew," he wipes his forehead with the back of his palm sarcastically.

"Why, have you done something naughty?" I tease.

"Are we counting what happened in the bathroom and shower today?" He smirks.

"Hmmm," I ponder, tilting my head back and forth.

"You know, because I'm pretty sure some of that stuff is illegal in certain countries."

We both laugh and it helps ease my worry, at least for the moment. The rest of the ride, while quiet, is much better.

It takes us a few minutes to unload the truck and bring all our purchases inside. I insist the first thing we do is change the sheets and comforter on our bed. I have to actually teach him how to do a hospital corner. Men.

But when we finish making our bed and we lie down to test it, I hear an audible happy sigh from my husband.

"Okay, you can say it," he concedes.

"I told you so," I grin triumphantly.

"You do realize, given our track record, that these sheets are going to be all over the place a lot, right?" He jokes.

"Mmmhmm," I purr into his ear, gently nibbling his earlobe, which drives him nuts.

"Wait," he stops me gently. I huff and pout but he doesn't give an inch. "I want to finish our conversation from the ride home."

"Ugh fine," I lament.

"Katniss if you don't want to tell me, that's your right," he says evenly, but I can hear the hurt in his voice. I know he'd let me get away with not talking, but I also know it would hurt him, even if he'd never admit it.

"No," I shake my head. "Come on," I quickly get off the bed and hold out my hand for him. He latches on and I help tug him up.

I lead him out to the balcony off our bedroom overlooking the lake. I sit him down in a chaise lounge and position myself between his legs facing the same direction so we both can look out on the water and the fading sun.

When he wraps his arms around me and brings me close so there's as much contact as possible between us, I get that feeling I got the first time we ever held hands. It's a safe feeling, but it's also much, much deeper than that. It's like Annie said at the wedding – I feel home when I'm with Peeta. We could be on a mountain or in a desert or on the balcony of our home, and as long as I'm in his arms, I'm content, safe, and where I'm supposed to be. He's my protector, emotionally and physically.

"In a couple days I'm due to fill my prescription," I finally blurt out.

"Okay, we can go to the Walgreens in Rangeley," he replies. He obviously doesn't understand what I mean.

"Sweetie," I try to make it clearer, "what do I take that's prescribed?"

"Um," he thinks, "well you take vitamins right?"

I sigh.

"Yes," I answer, "but those are over-the-counter honey. Think about it."

He's silent, trying to rack his brains I'm sure. I could just tell him, but for some reason, I want him to come up with it on his own. I want to hear his tone and demeanor when he realizes what I'm talking about.

"Are you – are you talking about birth control?" He finally asks quietly and tentatively.

I just nod to confirm his answer.

"Uh, um," he stumbles. I giggle a bit at his cuteness.

"Peeta it's nothing you need to feel embarrassed to talk about," I grin. "If you haven't noticed, and I don't see how you could've, we have sex on a pretty regular basis. We can talk about it you know."

"I know," he swallows audibly.

"Baby why are you so nervous?" I ask, concerned.

"Are you pregnant?" He quietly wonders aloud.

"No," I shake my head. "No I'm not pregnant Peeta."

"Thank god," he mumbles.

My heart shatters. I feel sadness, but that's soon replaced by anger.

I quickly sit up and turn to face him.

"What do you mean 'thank god'?" I yell. "I knew it. I knew I wasn't good enough."

"Whoa, Kat-"

"Don't you 'Kat' me," I warn, not letting him get a word in. "You told me you wanted to have kids with me. You told me I was who you wanted to be a parent with. What the hell Peeta? Where do you get off being happy that I'm not pregnant?"

My anger starts to lead into horrifying, all-encompassing sorrow. I feel hot tears streak down my cheeks. I can't even look him in the eye. I'm such a mess. No wonder he doesn't want to have kids with me.

"Why Peeta?" I sob. I can't control my emotions any longer. "Don't you love me? Why'd you marry me if you didn't want to start a family? Are you going to – are you going to leave me?"

By the end my body is shaking, and I can barely hold myself upright. He reaches out and at first I swat his arms away, but he ignores me and pulls me into him nonetheless. I fight it, but it's half-hearted and he's much stronger than me.

I bury my face in his chest and cry. I find it ironic I'm crying about him, but I'm using him to comfort me at the same time. How fucked is that?

He just lets me get it out, one hand rubbing slow circles on my lower back under my shirt and the other stroking my hair gently. Eventually I calm down enough that I stop sniffling and hiccupping. I decide that I've already made enough of a fool out of myself that it doesn't matter, so I use his shirt to wipe the snot off my face. He doesn't seem to mind. That just makes me sadder.

Peeta

Oh god, what have I done. I said two words and she's completely broken down right in front of me. It's hard for me to see her like this. She's so incredibly strong. Even when she was a kid, she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, and it always seemed like it never fazed her one bit.

That's one of the first things that attracted me to her, besides, of course, her beauty. She never bowed down to peer pressure, never turned into something she wasn't to please people. She always has been her own person. She doesn't care about anyone's opinion about her because she knows exactly who she is.

I knew when we got married that it would be harder than either of us thought to adjust to being spouses and partners. Both of us learned the hard way to rely only on ourselves. For a long time neither of us trusted anyone, and even now, it's hard to let people in. That's why I was so blown away by her on Everest. She completely let all her walls down, let me see everything, the good and the bad. She shared her entirety with me. It's quite a beautiful thing, but it also made her vulnerable.

That's one thing I know for a fact she hates. Being vulnerable.

I have no idea how to fix this. Right now, I'm letting her cry mostly because I have no clue what to say. She's even doubting my love for her, and that was obviously not my intent. I have to explain this to her. I have to help her understand what I meant, but she needs to calm down before I can even begin.

Eventually her sobs die down to occasional whimpers and sniffles. It breaks my heart to see my wife like this. I may be the husband in the relationship, but she is definitely the stronger one between us. I can barely get within a mile of my childhood home without turning into a frightened little boy. Yet it doesn't seem to make her even the slightest bit uncomfortable.

"Katniss?" I softly whisper. "Katniss, honey, are you okay?"

I cringe as soon as I utter the words. Of course she's not okay.

"No," her reply is muffled against my shirt.

"I'm sorry," I blurt out. It's the only thing I can think of to say. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Please," she begs. I've never heard her voice like this. She doesn't sound like the proud, amazing woman she is. Rather, she sounds like a girl, a girl who's terrified of losing something she loves. "Please," she repeats, the emotion laced in her tone. "Please don't leave me. I'll do anything. I don't care if you don't want children. Tell me what you want me to do. Please. Please."

"I want to tell you a story," I declare. She actually looks up, confusion all over her face, right there with the tear tracks. She wipes her eyes and waits for me to talk. "Do you know where the idea of the wedding ring came from?" I ask. She shakes her head no. "Well, it might just be a myth, but the tale says that the Ancient Romans invented it. You see, they believed that there was a vein that began in what we now call the ring finger that led directly to the heart. So, when they pledged their love to their wives or husbands, they wrapped that finger, and hence the vein, in iron. This signified that their heart has been taken, that it belongs wholly to their spouse."

She actually gives me a very small smile before she gazes at her wedding ring. It's the simple gold band Haymitch somehow found for us. Even though I'm fairly certain they were the only ones he could get on such short notice, I also believe that they're perfect for us. We don't need fancy, diamond encrusted rings. That's not us. Simple, that's us. Katniss even refuses to let me get her an engagement ring. She won't give me a straight answer as to why, but I think it's because she knows I'd probably pick something really, really expensive, and she knows she doesn't need a fancy ring for me to prove my love for her or vice-versa.

"Katniss, I married you because I love you. I married you because I will always love you. I married you because I want to spend the rest of my life, every minute of every day, right by your side." Her smile gets a little wider and her eyes start to lighten. Good, I'm getting somewhere. "The day we got married, we slid these rings onto one another's fingers. The moment I gave you your ring, I was no longer just Peeta. I became Peeta, Katniss' husband, best friend, lover, partner, and, one day, father of her children. I gave you that ring because it's a symbol of my undying love for you. But that's only a small token. The only real way I can show you how much I treasure you is by living it day after day."

I decide to take a chance and lean my head down, placing a quick kiss on her lips. The familiar warmth comforts me, the taste of her satiating the hunger deep inside me.

"Are you okay enough for me to explain why I said what I said earlier?" I carefully ask, making it obvious that if she says no, I'll be completely fine with it.

Instead, she simply nods.

"I admit that it was a very poor choice of words," I chuckle and she gives me a tiny giggle. "But I want you to understand why I said that. It's not because I don't want to have children with you. It's not because of anything you did or didn't do. It's certainly not because I don't love you. Under normal circumstances, I'd probably actually be a little ticked that you'd even question my love for you."

Her eyes go wide in fear.

"Peeta," she tries to apologize, but I stop her with a finger on her lips.

"It's okay. I promise. I'm not mad in the least. We've been on such an emotional rollercoaster lately. Not only are we still newlyweds and getting used to being married, but we have the added stress of unwelcome people in our lives."

She nods and we both take a moment to think about those people that are trying to make our lives miserable. We won't let them though. We'd never let them win.

"The reason I said 'thank god' is because when we do decide to have kids, I want it to be a conscious and unanimous decision between us. I want to make love with you and know that maybe, just maybe, we're manifesting our love by creating a life that's a beautiful mix of both of us. I want that memory, that knowledge of knowing when we started to expand our family. Don't get me wrong baby. If you had answered that yes, you are pregnant, I would've jumped for joy, screamed it for the whole world to know, picked you up and kissed you for hours. I'm sorry if I made you doubt that for even a second."

By the end of my little speech, she's giving me that huge, gorgeous smile that turns me into a babbling idiot. The same smile she gave me the first time we kissed, when we got married, and when we made it to the summit. It's the best kind of smile, one that I know radiates pure joy.

"I want to tell you one more very important thing. Is that okay?"

"Of course," she whispers. I can see she's a little nervous again.

I lean my head back down, resting my forehead on hers with our noses ever so gently touching, and stare right into her eyes.

"I love you," I say simply, with as much conviction I can muster.

"I love you," she whispers back with the same conviction.

We kiss. It's slow, filled with hope and love, celebrating yet another huge step in our relationship. Now to work out the details.

Katniss

When he finally explained why he said that, I feel like a complete idiot. I can't believe I said those things, to my husband no less. How could I ever doubt him? He's never, ever given me reason to. Granted, we haven't been married all that long, but I feel like we know each other pretty well so far.

He sees that I'm remorseful, but refuses to let me voice it. He, of course, would insist that I have nothing to be sorry about. It's just the kind of man he is. He gets me completely. He knows that I know he loves me. He knows that when I get scared or angry, or both, I say things that I really don't mean. Things that I know are untrue. He'd be well within his rights to be offended, even angry. I accused him of terrible things but he's already over it, he's already forgiven me. He'd probably tell me he didn't even need to forgive me.

God I love him.

Seriously, could I have a better husband? I'm fairly sure that no other man would ever be able to put up with my silliness or my temper. But not my Peeta. He told me once that he loves me because I have a fiery temper. He married me because I'm a hell of a lot different from other girls. He knows I'm deeply flawed, but to him they're not flaws. To him, they're an integral part of who I am as a person. Sure, we occasionally argue over something trivial. Who doesn't, right? But even when we do disagree, he still accepts me for who I am, no questions asked.

I ask myself, yet again, how I got so lucky. How did he not get snagged years ago? He's handsome, charming, kind, selfless, brave, and whole slew of other great qualities. The fact that he's filthy rich doesn't even come into the equation. I married him before I even knew about how much he, and now we, is and are worth.

"Can I ask you a question?" He breaks the silence.

"You know you can ask me anything baby," I confirm.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out, kissing my forehead gently before speaking.

"Do you want to refill your birth control?"

He's not asking directly, but I obviously understand the implication of the question.

What do I say? On one hand, I know he wants kids, and that he wants it to be a decision we make together. One the other hand, he hasn't told me yet what his opinion about it is.

Which answer does he want?

I realize that I can't base my answer on what I think he wants to hear. That's not what a marriage is supposed to be about. We're supposed to be honest, to be able to talk things through together.

"Yes and no," I answer truthfully. He looks confused. "It certainly can't hurt to get it filled. Nobody can make me take or not take them. But, to be completely honest, I dream almost every night about us a few years down the road. After we reconnected at Base Camp, the thing I wanted most was to be your wife. I knew probably within ten minutes of talking with you that you were who I want to spend the rest of my life with. I know I said I knew at the end of our date, but I've thought about it and even dreamt about it."

"Really?" He looks almost stunned.

"Why is that so unbelievable? You claim you knew you wanted to marry me when we were five and hadn't even met yet," I tease. We both laugh a little.

"Fair enough, fair enough," he smiles.

"I want to make something clear," I announce. "Before you, I never thought about settling down, starting a family, being married and having kids. Maybe once in a while, sure, but I definitely wasn't actively looking for a husband. Lucky for me, my husband got dropped right in my lap. We started our relationship, and I'll admit I was a little scared in the beginning."

"Me too," he admits. "I was petrified I'd do something wrong or push you away."

"Me too," I echo. "I never put much thought into fate. I thought us ending up as climbing partners was just a really crazy coincidence. Maybe that's all it was. Or, maybe, we were brought together by some power, some force. Maybe it's god, or maybe it's fate, or maybe it's both, or something else. Whatever the reason, you've helped me become the person I always, deep down, wanted to be. All my priorities changed. My outlook on life changed. My hopes and dreams for the future changed."

"What are you saying?"

"What I'm trying to say is that the moment we got married, when we made vows to each other, I'd gotten what I wanted most. So, obviously, something else had to take the place of wanting to be your wife, because now I am."

"What replaced it?"

"Peeta, the thing that I want most, besides of course just being with you, is to bear you children. To be a mother, and have you be a father. To give Prim and your brother some nieces and nephews. Maybe my mom and your dad would enjoy being grandparents." I purposely leave his mother out of it, for obvious reasons. "So, I guess what I'm really trying to say is that I don't want to refill my birth control. It's not that I want to get pregnant right this minute, but I want to at least give us the chance, the opportunity to bring even more joy into our life together."

I pause a moment to let him process before I speak again.

"I want to have a baby with you Peeta. Maybe it'll happen next week, or maybe in a month. Maybe it'll take us a little time, who knows? I want it, honey, I want it so bad. I want us to express our love in the deepest, most intimate way possible."

I let out a deep breath when I'm finished. I can't believe I actually said all that. I'm so incredibly relieved and happy that I told him how I'm feeling. Now, I wait patiently but nervously for his response.

"I guess we'll have to add a minivan to our fleet," he smiles wide.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" I ask in mild disbelief.

"Yes, Katniss. My answer is yes."

"But what about what you said before, that you wanted to spend time with just you and me?"

That's the question that's been dogging me for weeks. I don't want him to agree just because it's what I want. Like him, I want it to be a decision we make together, both of us fully on board.

"Last time I checked, the average gestation period for women is approximately nine months," he jokes.

"Can we not use the term 'gestation'?" I ask. "It's kind of, well, weird."

He chuckles and gives me a quick peck on the lips.

"I guess it's my turn to admit something," he tells me after our kiss ends. "The reason I said that back in Tibet was because, at that time, I didn't think either of us were ready." I start to panic but he quickly squashes that. "But I was wrong. Dead wrong. I made an assumption, a stupid one, and basically lied to you. I'm sorry."

"Oh baby," I sigh, "it's okay. Actually, before you told me about how, well, we're wealthy, I thought that if we did decide to have kids, it might not be the best time. I thought that even if we pooled all our money and resources, we'd still have to work to make enough money to raise a family."

"We were both wrong," he grins. "Katniss Mellark, I need to ask you a very important question," he repeats his previous request.

"Anything," I reply.

"Will you start a family with me? To give me the best gift possible, a wife and children to love and cherish forever?"

"Yes, Peeta, I will," I nod and kiss him. I'm crying again, I realize, but this time they're of the happy variety. I see his eyes getting moist as well.

We both let out happy sobs, kiss, hug, and just lie together, me crawling back into his lap.

"Wait," he gasps.

"What is it?" I quickly ask.

"Does this mean that every time we have sex, I have to, um, well, uh,"

I put him out of his misery. My poor, shy Peeta.

"Come inside me?" I finish. He nods sheepishly. I giggle and turn to kiss his cheek. "Absolutely not," I assure him. "We shouldn't have sex just to try and conceive. We should have sex because we're in love. Because it's a beautiful act that we share. While having you climax while you're inside me is amazing, and it may lead to me getting pregnant, I will always love watching you while you come all over me, whether it's my face, in my mouth, on my boobs, on my stomach, on my ass, on my back, or even in between my toes," we both laugh at that one.

"You don't have to do those things just because you know what it does to me," he blurts out.

I roll my eyes.

"Seriously, how many times do I have to tell you before you believe me? I'll keep telling you as long as you need me to. I love to taste you, to have you own me, possess me. I love the look on your face when I completely submit to you, give you complete control over me and my body. Like I always tell you, I belong to you. I'm yours. If you want to come in my mouth, go right ahead. If you want to come in my ear, I might need help washing it out. I'm sure that we'll have enough sex that it'll be inevitable that you knock me up."

He looks completely shocked. Okay, maybe I was a bit raunchy, but I'm just telling him how it is. I mean every word, and I'm going to be happy to prove it to him, right here and right now.

"Take your pants off," I order.

"Huh? What?" He can be so utterly clueless. It's adorable.

"I said, take your pants off," I repeat.

"Um okay," he lifts his hips up off the lounger and I help him pull his pants and boxers down to his ankles.

"Your wife needs you," I explain while I strip down until I'm naked. He's growing rapidly and I watch in fascination as his erection stands up straight, waiting for me. "Your wife needs you to rock her world. Your wife needs you to claim her, to utterly ravish her. Seriously Peeta, if I can walk tomorrow without being sore, I'm going to be pissed. We can make love later in our bed with our new sheets."

He nods excitedly as I start stroking his dick, teasing him a bit.

"But for right now, I don't want us to make love. I want us to fuck. My body is yours to do with as you please. Fuck me as hard as you can, or have me give you a blowjob. Or if you want I can give you a nice handjob right here. Or I could squeeze your cock between my tits and make you come that way. Whatever you want, I'm in."

His eyes literally roll to the back of his head and I giggle at the expression on his face. It's priceless.

"So what'll it be, Mr. Mellark?"

"Anything," he answers breathily. "Everything. You're so beautiful. Oh my god you're so fucking beautiful."

"Do you want me to ride you or do you want to put me on my back and stuff my pussy?" I keep teasing, now every so slowly using my tongue to wet his erection.

"Please," he groans in pleasure. "Please Kat. I need you."

"Not nearly as much as I need you," I protest.

Since he obviously is having trouble thinking straight, I decide to show him just how serious I am about this.

"Up," I grab his hand and pull him up off the chaise. He stumbles a bit, as his pants and boxers are around his ankles. He kicks them off and I relieve him of his t-shirt, leaving us both naked.

I lean up on my toes and kiss him thoroughly.

Once we part, I move to the lounge we were just sitting on. I get on all fours, sticking my ass in the air and wiggling it a bit, smirking at him over my shoulder.

"Let's go Mr. Mellark," I coax seductively.

He snaps out of his daze, kneeling on the chaise behind me and taking his rightful position of dominance.

When I feel the tip of his throbbing erection on my wet folds, I realize that now, the dynamic of our love life has shifted monumentally. While I was definitely serious that by no means we have to actively try to conceive every time we have sex, it doesn't change the fact that as soon as my system is flushed off the birth control, every time we have sex could result in a pregnancy.

It's obvious Peeta realizes this too.

I'm not keeping count, but we've been having sex on a pretty regular basis since that first time on the North Col. But it's never felt like this.

Our passion has increased ten-fold, and we both have become possessive to the point of craziness.

I know I've never loved him more than in this exact moment.

What makes me even happier is that I know that come tomorrow, I'll love him all the more.

I can no longer delineate where he ends and I begin. We're completely intertwined, emotionally and physically. Our destinies are now forever linked. I feel like we've just agreed to let fate run its course.

All I can do is hope that our destiny, our fate, involves thousands of diapers and college tuition.