A/N: The song for this chapter is Last Resort by Papa Roach. This song may be a little… intense for this chapter, but I think it adamantly gets the point across. And it makes me smile because it reminds me of my dad from when I was little. Let's just say that my parents never restricted any music from me. If my parents wanted to listen to music that said 'fuck' in the song, then they were going to, whether or not a six year was in the car. They have given me a pretty eccentric taste in music, but that's okay.

Happy holidays! And a big thank you goes out to anyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed this fic. Also a thank you to everyone who read this and took the time to check out my other fic, The Slip of Paper.

I don't own The Hunger Games or any characters.

Chapter 10: Last Resort

Peeta's POV

I hate this. I hate this so much.

She's not back yet. How long does it take to put out a fire? I have no idea, but she's been gone hours, and I refuse to leave until I see her—whole and unharmed.

About an hour ago, I got so nervous and anxious that I raided the pantries until I had all the ingredients I needed to make cheese buns. I had to use a few substitutes, but they should turn out fine. I didn't use anything that had a name written on it—everything was unclaimed and looked like it had been sitting around for a while. So to give my hands something to do, I started making cheese buns. Being unfamiliar with this kitchen, it took me a little longer than usual, but I didn't mind because it gave my mind something to think about.

Once the buns are baking, I go back to pacing around the kitchen and living room. I turn the news on, trying to see if anything about the fire was on, but there was no story on about a fire. I leave the TV on, just in case something does pop up about a fire.

I can't focus on anything for too long because my thoughts jump right back to Katniss—if she's okay, if she's inside a burning building, if she's saving someone and risking her life to do it. Then I realize something. Our first technical kiss was awful. She barely had time to respond to it before the moment was ruined by an alarm. And then we had a quick peck of the lips as she ran off to go fight a fire. A couple measly pecks—not even particularly loving, just semi-soothing. I have to fix that when she comes back.

Just as I was opening the oven to pull out the buns, I heard the garage door opening. I quickly reached in and grabbed the tray, throwing it on top of the stove carelessly. Rushing toward the door, I ripped off the oven mitt and threw on the counter next to the stove.

I'm about to rip open the door when it flies open toward me and almost hits me in the face. I jump back to avoid being hit and look at me would be assailant.

It's Katniss.

Before I know what I'm doing, I have her wrapped in my arms. Squeezing tightly once, I let go and push her out to arm's length away. Silently inspecting her, I lift up her arms and spin her body around, looking her up and down for any wounds. Finding none, I pull her in for another hug.

"Thank God," I whisper into her hair.

She chuckles softly into my neck, "I see someone had a rough few hours."

"You have no idea. That was the worst few hours of my life. Surpasses the time my dad went to the hospital to pass a kidney stone."

"If the state of your hair tells me anything, I'd say you were practically losing your mind."

I look into the nearest reflective surface, the door, and through the fun house-like warps in my reflection, I can tell that my blonde curls are pointing in every direction. I didn't even realize how many times I had run my hands through my hair.

So I breathe into her hair, which is now in a tight bun—like a ballerina would wear, "To keep my status as your girlfriend, do I need to go freshen up?"

She laughs, and I can feel goose bumps form on my neck where her breath ghosts across it. "No, leave it. I like it." She moves one of her hands up my back and into my hair. Running her fingers through my hair, she says lightly, "It reminds me that you care."

I pull back to see her face and see so many emotions flickering there that it puts me at I loss for words. The best thing I can come up with slips from my mouth. "Hi."

She smiles softly at me, "Hey."

I grin and pull her back to me and crush her lips to mine. I try to pour my emotions into it—worry from when she was gone, relief at her being okay, happiness that she's here, and my love for her.

Hold up. Love? When I think this, I almost rip my mouth from hers in shock.

But I don't because I realize that it's true. I love her. I was so worry for her. She was all I could think about. I don't think I would have been that worried even if my entire family was held hostage. I've never felt so helpless and awful before. It was a horrendous experience, but I'd do it all over again if it meant that I could continue to see Katniss.

She kisses me back an equal amount of passion. I can feel her thankfulness that I stayed—that I waited for her to come home.

I'm worried that the other firefighters will walk in on us and see our intense kiss, but Katniss doesn't seem worried about it, so I stop thinking about it.

Finally something other than our kiss pervades my senses.

"Jesus Christ!" I declare while plugging my nose. "You smell like-"

"Shit. I know." She chuckles as she pulls back from me, "Fires don't smell good, so rushing into them just transfers the smell and then mixes in with the sweat."

All the guys walk into the kitchen then from the bay. They see me holding my nose and laugh. It makes me blush and removed my hand from my face.

Thresh walks up and announces, "Yeah, we all need showers, but ladies first."

Katniss groans, "All right, fine. Darius can go first."

All of the men chuckle at her joke, but Darius shoots her the finger as he sneers, "Gladly." Then he smiles mischievously at Katniss and tells her, "Plus you have something to deal with. Or do you not remember Rover?"

Katniss' brows scrunch together. "Shit. I did forget about him. I'll figure something out."

I'm sure the confusion is evident on my face when I ask, "Who's Rover?"

A high pitched "Um" leaves Katniss' mouth. I can see her turning things over in her head. Finally, she grasps my hand and leads me through the door to the bay.

Once we enter the bay she gestures wildly over to a heap over by the fire truck and then turns her head away to look out the glass of the garage doors.

I inspect the heap from afar and see that it's a fireman's jacket with something bronze colored on top of it.

"What is that?" I ask as I squint my eyes toward the jacket.

At the sound of my voice, the bronze heap on the jacket moves. A pair of brown eyes stares back at me, and I realize that the bronze heap is a dog poking its head up at me.

"Oh, it's a dog. Rover is a dog," I say lamely. Katniss nods without looking at me or the dog, and Rover cocks his head at me.

Slowly I approach the dog, and he just stares at me as make my way over. Upon closer inspection, I see the jacket is Katniss' because it says EVERDEEN on the back. Sitting down on the ground next to the dog's makeshift bed, I hold out my hand for the dog to sniff. The dog stares up at me and barely takes a whiff of my hand before he leans his head into my hand. When I smile at the dog and laugh at its trust, he decides I'm being too slow to respond to his want of me to pet him. He pulls back from me to nudge my hand with his nose and then proceeds to place his head right back in the palm of my hand.

Chuckling as I start to scratch the dog's head and neck, I turn back to Katniss and say, "He's really sweet—and demanding."

With a sigh, Katniss trudges over to where I am perched and unceremoniously plops herself down next me. "I know."

"How did you end up with him?"

She glances at me before reaching to scratch Rover's back. "I saved him." She pauses before launching herself into the story. "It was an abandoned building on fire. The other boys were preoccupied putting hoses together so they could extinguish the fire in the front of the building, but I heard it. There were whimpers coming from the back of the building that wasn't fire yet. We assumed that it was a homeless person trapped inside, so we started making a quick plan to send a rescue team inside. Then when the other guys heard the bark, they refused to risk their lives to save a dog. If it had been a human, they would have gone in. But now that it was a dog, there was no way in hell that they were going to try to rescue it. So I very calmly said to hell with them and went after the dog. It was smoky in the back of the building, but I could still sort of see, but really I just listened to the whimpers. When they stopped, my heart stopped. I had rushed into a building on fire for this dog; I sure as hell wasn't leaving without it."

She pauses in her story and gets a far off look in her eyes. I look down and see her hands tangled in the dog's fur, no longer scratching his back. Slowly she starts again, "The smoke was getting worse and my oxygen tank only had thirty minutes of air left in it. If I was going to get this dog, I had to do it fast. So I started screaming. As loud as I could because I know how muffled my voice would be by the mask I was wearing. I ran up and down the halls for a little while as I screamed for the dog. I almost gave up. Almost walked out. Then I heard him."

She slowly drags her fingers through Rover's fur, "He gave one last whimper, and I threw open the door to the room I thought he was in. Thank God, it was the right room, or we wouldn't have made it out. He was curled up in the corner of the room, shaking and covered in ash and soot. I just ran up to him—which I'm sure scared the shit out of him—but I didn't care. I scooped him up and ran outside. The guys told me I was the most stupid person they knew, but I didn't care. I wasn't just going to listen to that dog burn to death and not give him a chance. So while the boys finished putting out the fire, I sat with the dog and calmed him down—which was easier to do once I took off my gear, and he could see I was a human and not some huge beast that was going to eat him or something. I took a hose and rinsed him off because he was disgusting. When the guys were putting the hoses away, they saw how red his fur was so they started calling him Rover—like Red Rover. The name stuck, and the dog was attached to my side, so I had to take him home."

I take Katniss' chin in my hand and turn her head to look at me. "That was so brave. You are the reason everyone calls firefighters heroes. You are the reason every kid looks up to the firefighters. You are the reason every single kid wants to be a firefighter when they grow up. You are the epitome of valor."

Her chin wobbles in my hand, and it looks like she might cry. She throws her arms around my neck, and one hand fists in my hair. "Thank you," she whispers as she kisses my cheek.

Apparently the dog does not take not being the center of attention well because he whines and crawls on top of Katniss and my crossed legs, putting himself between us.

I chuckle as I let go of Katniss and pet the dog again.

Katniss sighs deeply as she takes the dogs face in her hands and kisses the top of his head. When she pulls back, she looks into his eyes and asks him, "What am I going to do with you, boy? No dogs are allowed at my apartment. And mom and Prim have enough animals and Haymitch. Maybe one of the guys will-"

"I'll take him."

Her head whips toward me. "What?"

"I said I'd take him." I beam at her, "My mom never let us have pets as kids. I've always wanted a dog, but I've never worked up the nerve to go to a shelter and pick one out."

Katniss grins and kisses me hard on the lips. When she breaks away, she doesn't pull back very far, so I feel her lips brush mine with every word as she whispers, "You are the best girlfriend ever."