Chapter 11: It's Never Too Late

The train whistle is still wailing in the distance when Johanna Mason sweeps into my mansion in Victors' Village without knocking. The walk from the station to the Village isn't very far. In a dress, she is still as beautiful as ever, at 48 years old. Me? At only 44 years old, I look like shit.

I only heard of Katniss's infidelity in the arena when I returned from the Quell. Caesar probably didn't show it in the recap at Cato Jr.'s interview because it was X-rated. That the son of the man I killed not only won, but fucked my wife to become Victor makes me resent him even more. Oh, and he killed her. I only accept Katniss's silver medal half-heartedly, but display it with sad pride, right beside our wedding photos.

It is now the Victory Tour for the 102nd Hunger Games. The Victor is a girl from District 7 and if anyone deserves it, it's Jo. This is her first successful tribute in 30 years; the last one, Pliny Aruasio, won her first year as a mentor.

"I thought I might visit you before we meet up at the Justice Building," she smiles.

I give her a big kiss in greeting, boldly groping her ass while I do so. Johanna indulges me, even hooking her leg to my waist. Interestingly, Johanna is the most tame when she is in the arms of a man and being loved up.

"Well, good morning to you too, Lover Boy," she chuckles when we break apart. After Katniss died, Johanna has been my saving grace.

I suddenly hear the door opening, and Johanna and I jump apart. Footsteps in the foyer, and then my daughter, Sierra, emerges into the kitchen. She frowns when she sees a woman with me. "Who the hell are you?"

"Sierra, this is Johanna Mason, my friend and colleague from District 7," I explain.

Sierra doesn't believe the friend bit for a moment. I can tell just by looking at her. Instead, she becomes protective of me by being passive aggressive. "Well, Johanna, I guess we are all sisters under the skin."

She gets me right in the wrong place. I blow up. "Sierra!"

"Yes?"

"This fine lady is NOT your sister. This fine lady has just consented to give me her hand in marriage."

Sierra jumps up from the couch as if burned, not noticing the startled look Johanna gives to me. "Marriage?!"

"Yes. We marry in... six months," I pull out of my butt.

"Six months?!" my daughter gawks.

"Yes. So, a little respect for your future stepmother, if you please."

"Yeah... sure..." Sierra mumbles, and all but runs from the house, no doubt to squeal to her brother Bannock at the bakery.

Johanna and I burst out laughing. "Peeta, you were marvelous!" Johanna beams.

"Well, what else could I do?" I smile. Then I sigh. "But I'm going to hear about this later, if she's anything like her mother. Katniss hated being shown up in an argument; she'd get all flustered. And why did I say six months? Why didn't I say six years? That would mean a wedding during the Games, and this way she will find out the truth so quickly! Unless..."

Johanna's eyes narrow. "Unless..."

"We actually do get married," I float.

Johanna's green eyes stare in astonishment. "You were serious?"

"It was in my mind," I shrug sheepishly. "So... if you would consider... marriage?" I take her hand.

Johanna does not look her confident self anymore. Indeed, she looks as though she has just seen the ghosts of her tributes. All the same, she replies, "I would consider it," but the admission seems to be almost wrenched from her throat. "But it is foolish! A waste of money! And we would never be able to live or even sleep together; the Capitol would never allow it unless it was at the Games or on a Victory Tour like this!"

"And live alone? How many meals have you eaten alone?" I press her. "A thousand? 5,000?"

Johanna sighs. "20,000."

"Then be sensible! Victors come and Victors go, same as any tributes! How much longer can we wait?"

Johanna stares at me seriously. "I won't be able to have children," she warns. "I'm too old. We both are."

"Oh, I don't care about that," I smile. "I have children. Both grown and with families of their own."

Johanna stares. "Sierra's married?"

"You know the son of the cowherd?" She shakes her head. "No, of course you don't. Anyway, he's Seam. And Sierra is a quarter Seam on her mother's side, and I've never cared about class lines like that. Her grandmother, on the other hand..." I shudder to think what my deceased mother would have thought of Sierra's marriage.

Johanna smirks. "Charming." Whether this is at my mother or daughter's expense, I cannot say. She kisses me one last time. "See you at the Justice Building."


Six months later, at the start of the 103rd Games, I enter my chambers on Floor 12 of the Training Center to find Johanna in a strapless white dress. She smirks at my stare of disbelief.

"Well, Lover Boy? Get a tuxedo on!"

I quickly do so, and run to fetch a piece of bread from the dining room. I show Johanna how to toast it over the fire, and explain the tradition of the toasting. She smiles.

"How quaint. In District 7, the newlyweds have to chop down a sapling and jump over it."

We share the bread. Then, I take Johanna in my arms. She seems tense for a moment, then she grabs my face and smashes her lips to mine in a kiss. Like Katniss before her, it is a kiss full of fear. Fear of being tied down and no longer independent. But it is also a kiss full of promise. A kiss full of apology. And a kiss full of deep, deep love.

Johanna climbs me like a tree and backs me up into my bed, so that she clambers on top of me and straddles my waist. "I'm sleeping with my husband tonight," she hisses. Then, she de-robes herself and bounces up and down on my member until each of us cums against the other.

We sleep together as man and wife.