Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, the whole THG universe belongs to Suzanne Collins. I only borrowed her characters.

A/N: I am sorry I haven't had the time to respond to the reviews for the last chapter. My schedule's getting better, so there's hope for the future :) There will be two more regular chapters and one outtake after that one until the little tale is over! I have to thank yet again Mary for working her beta-ing magic and wonderful Fremus for the revision and making suggestions.

Chapter 8

My fears hadn't vanished; I was still torn between cancelling the date with Mr. Mellark and for some inexplicable reason I also began looking forward to it. It took me two days to explain my slightly better mood to myself, but finally I found the reason. It was simply that he had lightened my heart with his kind words. I can hardly describe it, but somehow, his words got through to me more than anything else that I'd been told. I think the others have noticed also but I think they are too afraid to ruin my momentary state of happiness to mention anything.

And the fact that he had opened up to me, of all people, had really astonished me.

Who was I to him? A customer whom he occasionally met and who had insulted him often enough to only be polite and nothing more? But he had invited me to attend his friends' birthday party with him, which must mean that he at least thought my company was pleasant. Or at least pleasant enough. Maybe someone else had declined him? Maybe I was only second or even third choice? Could this be why can't I stop wondering about this? Perhaps he had not even considered asking me at all in the beginning, and it had been a coincidence that I was around while he was in a state of weakness?

No, I did not want to believe it, but what else could be the reason? The longer I thought about this, the more I assumed that it must indeed be the case. I mean…..

My train of thought was interrupted by Rue's arrival, a bit out of breath from hurrying. I had made myself a cup of cheap black tea, but now that I finally remembered to drink it, it was barely lukewarm - and left a bitter taste on my tongue.

Rue did not even bother with a greeting, and neither did I - still to lost in my own thoughts. She sat down across the table. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead, if from rushing or the warm August weather I could not tell; probably both. She put some water to boil on the stove.

"Mr. Mellark told me to send you his best wishes. He is making cheese buns today, but they were still in the oven when I left." She looked at me expectantly, and when I did not reply, she added: "I think he likes you."

"Rue!" I exclaimed, but though it further confused my assumptions.

"Katniss. I just said he likes you, not that you must like him back." Sometimes she is like Prim in those matters, a bit like an adolescent, straight to the point, almost close to the border of impropriety. Honestly, if it wasn't Rue, I would call it rudeness.

"He asked me to go to a party at his friends' with him, I believe he has not found another person to accompany him", I admitted. I might as well tell her, she would notice on Sunday anyway. If I was going, that is.

"Sometimes you are unbelievable, Katniss." She shook her head and raised an eyebrow at me. And so I told her. When I was finished, she pressed her lips tightly together to keep herself from laughing, but her twitching corners of the mouth gave her away. I felt partly annoyed because she obviously thought this was funny and partly angry with myself for having confided in her first-hand.

"What?" I barked.

"You are so unbelievable, Katniss", she repeated her former words and shook her head. Before I could question her any further, there was a knocking on our front door. I cannot remember the last time someone came to visit us, it's been a while. I threw a glance to Rue, but she only shrugged, obviously having no more clue who our visitor was than I.

The knock came again, this time more forceful. To my surprise it was Sae. She had never visited before and that she was now was giving me the strange feeling something was up. I led her into the kitchen and Rue excused herself, but I shrugged her off.

"I think you should hear what I accidentally listened to this afternoon. I came as soon as I could", the old lady said and I set a steaming mug in front of her unasked. "You know I do not like to gossip, but I do think this is important. Lucius Crane was throwing a temper tantrum for not getting his will in the shop today. You should have seen him, no manners at all, they spoil him too much, if you ask me. If he had been my son, believe me I would have slapped him in the face that very instant. Anyway when his mother would not listen he threatened to run away like James." She gave me a strange look and in my confusion to make sense of her words, to put together the pieces I caught myself staring at the gap between her teeth.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, yes, first I also thought I misheard or that he must mean someone else, but then Mrs. Crane warned him that she would take care of him like Josephine did to James." I frowned. Whatever that meant, I was sure it was nothing good.

"I'm going to find out. Now", I growled and stood up. "Sorry, Sae –" but she had already shrugged me off.

"Get yourself going, girl. I'm sure Rue will keep me company until I'm finished." I did not wait for Rue to agree, only grabbed my bonnet and headed off, putting it on while rushing down the street. I was sure I looked disheveled, but right now I could not care any less. My mind was empty, all I could keep thinking was that I had to get to Bukowski's house as soon as possible. A car honked at me and I cannot say why, I didn't even look, but I was sure the driver was right.

In what felt like hours I finally arrived. Impatiently I knocked at the backdoor and straightened my skirt a little while waiting. Seconds passed. When nothing happened, I repeated the action. I was sure they were home, where else should they be on a Wednesday evening?

I knocked a third time, so hard that I hurt my knuckles on the hard wood, when I finally heard a door slamming and Mr. Bukowski opened with a tight-lipped smile.

"Good evening, Miss Everdeen. It's a bit late for an unannounced visit don't you think?", he admonished sourly before I had the chance to say anything. He looked exhausted but that was none of my concerns.

"My apologies, Mr. Bukowski, but desperate times call for desperate measures."

"You mean? Look, Miss Everdeen, it has been a-"

"Excuse me, Sir. I do not care. It has come to my knowledge that James ran away and that your wife took care of it in a way that I do not know of. Thus I would like you to tell me how come my little nephew that you promised to take care of, who is your own flesh and blood, fled and what your wife's solution to that was and I like to see him myself, if you have no objections." I felt my heart beat in my chest and it took all of my willpower to remain composed and friendly.

"I am afraid you overreacted, Miss Everdeen. You know how kids are, don't get their will and then behave stupidly. Anyway, he is already sleeping, I think you agree with me to not wake him, don't you?" He laughed nervously and it was not hard to tell it was fake. Was he getting nervous? And if he was, why? My chest tightened.

"Oh, I'm not sure how much you know about his time with me, but though I did not always bow to his wishes, he never even considered-" A cry interrupted me and his plastered smile faltered for a split second.

"What was that?" I demanded.

"The cat. Maybe the clumsy maid stepped on her tail again, she often does."

"That was no cat" I argued. There was a short silence, but it was long enough to tell someone was yelling at the back. "And that is no cat either. What is wrong here, Mr. Bukowski?"

"I assure you, everything is fi-" He rubbed the nape of his neck which would have made me even more suspicious if I wasn't already on high alert.

"What. is. wrong?" I emphasized every single word. A door in the hallway opened and Mrs. Bukowski yelled "Stay here, you little …" What exactly she said I did not catch because that was the moment James cried out aloud and I shoved her husband unceremoniously aside and made my way into the house uninvited.

"Let go of him immediately!" I shouted as I caught sight of Mrs. Josephine Bukowski several feet away, with James in a grip that I can only imagine must have hurt him considerably. But that was not even the worst part.

"Oh, who are you to tell me how to treat my son?" she spat, not loosening her grip the slightest bit.

"Let go of him or I will do the same to you that you did to his face," I threatened.

"Tatty," James cried. It didn't take me another second. I grabbed her wrist, the hand still bore into James' skin.

"Let go", I repeated and this time she obeyed. I immediately took him into my arms and wrapped them around him protectively, as he sobbed into my blouse uncontrollably. I went a few steps back.

"How dare you!"

"How dare YOU treat him like that."

"Josephine", Mr. Bukowski interfered cautiously. All colour had left his face and he looked overwhelmed. He had done nothing but watched the whole scene. What kind of man is he?

"Oh no, this is all your fault, Gregory. I would not take him in, but you, no. Simply no. It is not my fault he grew up like a savage. I only did what was necessary. You brought him in and I kept my part of our agreement!", she shrieked. Her face was flushed with anger and I noticed that her fists were balled.

This was not my affair to deal with. I was done here.

"I expect his things to be delivered to my house by tomorrow noon. Don't dare take any legal action against me. If I hear only an utter about me or James or any made up reasons as to why he is with me again, I swear I will make his abuse public. So do think twice about your future actions. I will have him examined at the doctor's tomorrow so don't you dare test me! Good evening." I turned on my heel and left with a sobbing James cradled in my arms. When we were out of sight, I finally had the courage to stop and set him down, but he would not let go and hugged my knees.

I knelt down as best as I could and he buried himself in my arms. A maid who was passing by was giving me a strange look, but hurried away at my glare.

"Shh, James," I soothed, "You are not going back there, I promise. Let me look at you." He let go of me reluctantly, but only so far that he could still hold my hands. I was shocked, in the dim light in the hallway, it had not looked this terrible and I would not want to imagine how all of this happened.

His face was bruised and stained from tears. His right eye was swollen and red and there was a barely healed cut above his eyebrow. Not to mention a pink scar at his earlobe. At least nothing seemed broken as far as I could tell. He still sobbed, but no more tears were flowing.

Obviously he considered he had been out of my arms long enough and with another cry of, "Tatty" he was in my arms again. Though he was far too heavy by now, I carried him all the way home. I hummed the melody of his lullaby all the way, not only to calm him but also to distract me.

By the time I arrived at my house my arms burned from his weight and it was close to impossible to open the door, but I did not want to wake him. As I had entered our street James had dozed off, I think he was too overwhelmed to cope with anything else but sleep yet.

Sae was still at our house, I could hear her and Rue talk. I guess she was curious, but since she was the one who had come to tell me, I think she at least deserved to know the outcome, even if I personally would have preferred her gone.

Thankfully I managed to bring him into my room unnoticed and laid him on the bed. He still slept. I was not so lucky when their questioning glances followed me around the kitchen when I fetched a bowl with the rest of the water we still had in the house and a washcloth to free his face from dirt and tears.

"He is asleep," I informed them but of course this wasn't what they wanted to know. "He looks awful and has bruises, but please keep this to yourself. I think Mrs. Bukowski has been hitting him and if I'm guessing right not only once."

Sae nodded. "I assumed as much," she mumbled while Rue was obviously too stunned to say anything.

"I honestly cannot thank you enough, Sae, but please excuse me for now." It was impolite of me to not wait for an answer, especially considering what she had done for me and James, but I would go and talk to her tomorrow, this evening was only for my nephew.

We went to the doctor's the next day and I let him write down every single bruise and new scars; those that were still pink. So I had proof of what the Bukowskis' (I was not entirely sure how much James' father was involved, even if he had not hit him himself, he must have at least silently witnessed it and had not stepped in) had done to him and it was worth every single penny of the fee I had to pay. To be honest, I had to gulp when I saw the streak that a belt or something alike must have done to his back.

Today James was a bit better, dismayed and still clingy and wouldn't let go of me a single second, as if the touch was a reminder to him that this was no dream. Nonetheless when I had tried to caress his cheek he was startled and his eyes wide as saucers. It was hard for me to stay calm and keep my anger to myself when as much as a comforting gesture was frightening him. His eye was still swollen but it definitely looked better than yesterday. And he was quiet and had not said 20 words all day. And all those were when he doctor had asked if this or that hurt. It hurt seeing him like that and I think it would have been a relief to cry with him, yet I was afraid if I broke down, James would too and all I wanted was to distract him from that.

What bothered me most was that he had denied his breakfast, which had never occurred before but for now I thought it better not to force him considering what he must have gone through.

"What do you think about having a cookie, James?" I asked him, trying to get him out of his shell. We weren't far from the bakery and we would not make too big a detour going to Mellark's Bakery. He only squeezed my hand in response, so I looked at him. He just nodded, no smile. I had to gulp down the lump that formed in my throat once again.

There were two old ladies in the store but I did not know them and they did not pay us any attention, which I was grateful for. But of course Mr. Mellark did and I noticed that he pressed his lips tightly at the sight of James who was half hiding behind my skirt. Though he served them politely and was chit-chatting a bit, I noticed his attention was on us.

"Three cookies, please", I asked when it was my turn to order. He did not say anything, which surprised me, considering how closely he had been watching James and me.

"Uhm, Mr. Mellark? That's already six, but I think three are already more than enough for my little boy." Not to mention the price.

"Oh, oh sorry", he apologized; he shook his head as if to ridden his head of his thoughts. He put two back. "One's on me," he said. "Is he … okay?" I really did not know how to answer this. I wanted to be honest with him, but I did not want to tell too much.

So I vaguely replied "He will be in a few days."

"I'm sorry to bother you, because I know you have other concerns right now, but I will understand if you cannot make it on Sunday." It took a few moments until it dawned on me. As much as I had thought about this yesterday, today I had completely forgotten, but the thoughts and my assumptions came back straight in my mind immediately.

"Uhm," I said indecisively. He offered me the perfect excuse and opportunity and I had it not in me to take him up on that.

"You weren't going to come," he stated obviously guessing my second thoughts and believed to have heard a hint of sadness in his voice.

"No, no, I was not. I mean I was. I am confused", I admitted my defeat.

"Because of what happened to him?" he asked.

"Partly yes. How do you know…?" If it had been me seeing a boy in this state I would have guessed he fell down a tree or something. But maybe I was usually too oblivious concerning those kinds of things.

"I know very well that this does not happen from running into a door, Miss Everdeen." he pointed to James. I frowned.

"Please do not tell anyone, I don't want everybody to know," I said.

"But you have to, Miss Everdeen. What if they have their own children one day? I'd rather have people look twice than beat a child to death!" he shouted. I would have never supposed he could be so angry with anyone, but I stood up against him.

"Me too, but I have a deal with them and I will keep my part if that means James is going to stay with me." My voice trembled. I did not shout like him, but obviously I had been loud enough to scare James who started weeping. I couldn't help myself but throw Mr. Mellark a nasty look.

"Ssssh, I'm sorry James. We did not mean to shout, don't cry, everything is fine." When I couldn't calm him, I took him into my arms and rocked him up and down like a small child, silently singing his lullaby which eventually worked.

"I'm sorry," Mr. Mellark apologized. "It's just –" He did not finish his line.

"It's okay", I assured him, "He's a bit sensitive and that is not your fault." James stared at him wide-eyed, still a bit afraid until Mr. Mellark handed him one cookie of the display. He only took it when I nodded. Damn you, Bukowski!, I thought.

"I'm sorry, James", he told him and to me "I'm sorry though and I should have known better than to scare him. My apologies Miss Everdeen, my behaviour towards you was all but appropriate, though I hope that maybe we can meet sometime else if you cannot make it on Sunday." He really sounded hopeful and that strange feeling of glee crept back into my stomach, seeing him now with this genuine smile I immediately chased away all doubts I had had about him. And it made me happy for reason I did not dare to think about. Because they were not possible.

"I do not know how he is going to be on Sunday. We will see how he will take it if I am in the theatre tonight. I'm not sure if he will let go off me on Sunday also. I think it is only fair to you if you would reconsider someone else as company for as I can make no promises given under the circumstances and I do not want to disappoint you the last moment, if I would not be able to make it. I'm sorry for troubling you. I really am."

"You can hardly disappoint me, Miss Everdeen." A blush crept over his face and I had nothing to say to that. "So if you decide and want to come with me, my offer is still available."

"Thank you, Mr. Mellark. I won't make any promises, yet I hope to see you on Sunday." It was no lie.

"So do I."

He held the door open for us and I went home with a smile on my face.