Disclaimer: Although I must confess that the copyright belongs to SC, I would like to note that I've probably used up more text specifically on Gale than she has – considering that this fic has officially reached the word count of a novel (and we're not even done yet!). Huzzah! I think it's only fair that we arm wrestle for keeps. Wow. Cocky much? Anyway, she can have the money…I just want Gale. ;)

Special thanks to Ceylon205 for beta-ing FOUR chapter updates for me in a little over a week. Mahvelous!

Edit: Hmm, seems the website added some interesting gobbledygook to one of the last few paragraphs. Fixed - Thanks, Ate Monay!

Edit Redux: Thanks to Geeky, who found more mistakes and took the time to learn me about CTRL F. I can haz brain cells. :P

Chapter 11

Madge's POV

I don't want to wake up, so I squinch my eyes shut. It doesn't work. Posy's poking my eyelids.

"Honey, why don't you go poke Gale's eyelids," I say, even though he's probably long since gotten up.

Posy does as she's told and I'm rewarded with the sound of a muffled curse followed by little girl giggles. I guess he slept in today. Maybe, like me, he didn't sleep much. Ha.

I roll over onto my stomach, pulling the blanket over my head. Not that it really helps to hide anything. There's a rock digging into my ribs, but it's nowhere near as irritating as the constant mental recap of how much of a fool I made of myself yesterday. I assumed too much. In my world, a kiss means something concrete. It's not an experiment. So, I figured if Gale decided to kiss me, then he knew what he wanted. Turns out he didn't. I wish he'd come with a disclaimer on his forehead: "No physical agreements will be honored." And of course, he let me know he needed to think about it after I told him how I felt. So now he knows, and I wish he didn't. I don't like the feeling that he can know something that personal about me, without me having the same advantage.

Then there's the matter of Katniss. I can groan into the dirt all I want, but it won't help me understand what he said about her right before he kissed me. And even if Gale suddenly decides that he is in love with me, even though she's gone, I can't help but feel that my happiness would be at her expense. And that makes me feel a little sick.

And yesterday's second humiliating moment doesn't detract from my feeling of guilt. When none of the boys were around, Hazelle pulled me aside and said that I looked like I'd been kissed. I almost spit my tea out on her – how do mothers know things like this? It reminds me of the hundreds of times I'd seen my parents exchange a glance after I'd said something, like they'd read into it way more than I'd intended or realized. The worst part was the look in Mrs. Everdeen's eyes. Hurt. And it dawned on me that she hasn't said very much to me lately, and is it possible that she resents me for being alive when Katniss is dead? For Gale kissing me because Katniss isn't here?

I don't know. How am I supposed to sort any of this out? Not for the first time, I wish my mother were here to talk to. Not that I don't trust Hazelle, but she's not exactly neutral.

My reverie is brought to an abrupt end by the invasion of a newt under my blanket. The unfortunate creature gets thrown a yard after clambering over my arm.

This sends the younger children racing after the thing while I recover from an embarrassing amount of screaming.

"Sorry, Madge," Vick says when he's got the newt tucked away in a pocket. He's standing next to me while I sit in the grass with the blanket puddling around my knees. He pats my head. We've been out in the wilderness so long that I'm only barely fazed by the fact that he hasn't washed his hands before touching my hair. "He sneaked off on me."

"That's okay. He just startled me a little," I reply with a shred of dignity. "Is that your pet?"

One never knows with the Hawthornes. And if newt is on the menu, I'm giving up meat for good.

"Yeah," Vick says with a happy sigh, peeking into his pocket. "I found him under a log yesterday when you and Gale were gone somewhere for hours."

I choke down a laugh, choosing to ignore that piece of curious censure. "What's his name?"

"I dunno." He shrugs. "I never had a pet before."

"You should give a pet a name. Can you think of any?"

He gives me a gap-toothed grin. "I'm gonna call him Bristel Jr."

"Watch it, pup," Bristel grouses, playfully pretending to cuff Vick in the jaw as he passes by. He winks at me. "No respect for his elders."

This makes me smile. "I didn't think you were old enough for that yet," I quip. Thank goodness for Bristel, I think. So easily pleased with everyone and himself. A pleasant change from Gale, who goes from hot to cold and then back again in a blink.

Bristel smirks and waggles his eyebrows. "Oh, I'm old enough."

"All right, food's on," I hear Gale call. He has a strangled look on his face as he stares Bristel down. "Come and get it."

"I'm in no rush," Bristel replies. He sits down, casually stretching his arms behind his head. "Think I'll have my breakfast over here."

I can't help laughing.

"Get off your lazy butt," Gale grouses.

Bristel gives me a sunny grin. "Well, I wonder what's bugging him?"

I shrug as innocently as possible. "I have no idea."

He snorts. "Course not."

The banter continues until Gale finally bullies Bristel into getting up. I admit I'm grateful for Bristel's buffoonery, as it takes away the awkwardness of this great unknown thing between Gale and me. And I know Bristel is only teasing, even if Gale looks like he's eaten a bunch of sour apples. It reminds me of Gale's silly question yesterday. Does Gale think his friend is serious? I don't know how it can upset the dear boy after I told him exactly what I felt for him.

…

The morning slips away and still we haven't spoken. After breakfast, Gale convinced Mrs. Everdeen to take his bandages off for good. Meanwhile, Rory describes to me the way shards of wood were lodged in Gale's skin and I know I'm going to be sick if I don't walk away. I mean, I can see the long, knobby scabs, and that's enough. I take a short walk with Posy, watching her run around in the long grass, decapitating wildflowers. When we've come back, Gale's already busied himself by taking stock of all the gear and provisions, and making Bristel and Rory run around doing odd tasks. Prim's fever broke last night, so Gale wants to get back to the forest and resume our journey to Thirteen as quickly as possible. Tomorrow, if we can.

Gale's task-oriented like that…or possibly avoiding you, a traitorous voice warns. Gale can be pretty direct, but I still remember how he avoided Katniss and Peeta's return celebration held at my house. I remember it because I dressed up for nothing, and spent the evening wishing I could hide in my bedroom with my disappointment. Instead my dad made me dance with his clerk. Ugh.

There really isn't anything for me to do, so I decide to clean myself up…though by the standards of only a few days ago, I'm practically spotless. Although, I'd hate to think of these fingers ever touching my Grandmother Undersee's piano. Might as well take advantage of the free time and the shallows.

I'm walking down the bank, lost in thought, when I find myself suddenly redirected by the elbow. I'm brought to a stop behind a clump of large rhododendrons, just short of getting a mouthful of leaves. I back up a step to see familiar tattered corduroys, grey t-shirt, and a straight nose hedged under by a straggly beard. Heavy eyebrows nearly obscured by a shock of long, black hair.

How does he do that? I left him back at camp, the beast!

"You're awful pushy, Gale, you know that?" I snipe, trying to quell my embarrassment at suddenly being alone with him. Not to mention the traitorous thrill jogging my nerves. "Somebody ought to put a bell around your neck."

"Sorry, Madge," he replies, though he doesn't look very contrite. And if the upturned corners of his mouth are any indication, he's pleased about something. "I need to talk to you."

I huff and cross my arms, just bracing for more emotional whiplash, and trying not to appear too eager. "I suppose I have the time."

That seems to amuse him more, so I shoot him a glare. If only my eyebrows were a fraction as ominous as his. Wishful thinking. I'll never be able to achieve his level of scary.

Gale's face turns grave. "About yesterday…I'm sorry I left you hanging like that," he says. "This is a confusing time for me, and I act without thinking things through sometimes. I acted out of line, kissing you."

Ugh, I don't really want to hear about his regret. I swallow back the lump in my throat, feeling a familiar burn in my cheeks. "Okay. It shouldn't have happened. Fine," I say flatly, trying to move past him with what's left of my pride, but his hand's still attached to my elbow.

"That isn't what I meant. I'm not saying it shouldn't have happened at all. Just not the way it did." He smiles a little. "I figured out what it meant to me. I've also thought about what you told me."

The blush burns down my throat and I don't even respond.

He tips my chin up. "I'm not going to mock you, Madge."

"I wish I hadn't said anything to you at all," I mumble.

His eyebrows rise. "Why? I'm glad you did."

Then my eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. Really?

"I guess I always figured you were above feeling interested in a grimy miner. Until yesterday…It changes things." I search his gray eyes. They're clear of any mischief or derision. "I've made up my mind," he says, then waits expectantly for me to ask what that is. Like he's watching me open a present.

Ugh. I have to stifle the childish impulse to pull his hair.

Instead I grit my teeth. "You made up your mind? Well, I'm glad you've had time to think about all this." Jabbing a finger into his chest, I gripe, "You sure did take your time letting me know."

"Madge…I," he gapes.

"Just hold on a minute." I hold up the same finger that I bruised him with. "Before you say anything, I have a few questions of my own, because I can't make sense of anything that happened yesterday."

"All right," he says in a calculated tone. What did he expect? That I'd shout huzzah and kiss his lips off? No way.

I cross my arms over my chest. "What did you mean yesterday, about letting Katniss go…but not really?"

His fingers scrunch the hair on the back of his head. "Look. Katniss is a part of me. I can't just switch that off."

Hesitantly I ask, "So what does that mean for us?"

Gale takes a deep breath. "It means I want to court you. But if we wait till I've stopped grieving for Katniss…well, we'll probably be too old to enjoy it much."

My head spins a little, wondering if I'm hearing things right. Hearing the right things? "So…you made a decision?"

He nods. "Already have."

"Oh." I bite my lip and self-consciously wrinkle my nose. "So…are you choosing…me?"

Gale throws his head back, laughter booming through the thicket. "You look like I'm going to drown kittens and make you watch."

I swat his shoulder. "Don't laugh at me! I've been waiting…feeling horrible…."

"Sorry." He tries to plant a kiss on my nose, but I hold my hand up between us.

"Nope. I'm not making the same mistake as yesterday. No more of that until you say it straight."

His cheeks sliver into long dimples on both sides as he tries to keep this amusement down. "You're my girlfriend, if that suits you."

I blink. There. He said it. This is the part where I defend my dignity. I think. But…I don't want to balk or protest anymore. That's not me. And I've known what I want for some time, so what's the use?

Besides, I gave up my grip on dignity yesterday.

Still, there is one more question I need answered. "Why?"

"What?" He blinks.

"You disliked me…so what's different now?" I add, "And it better not be because I'm one of the only girls out here."

Gale exhales slowly, crimping his hair between his fingers. Then he starts to tell me, a little awkwardly, about the slow shift in his perception of me. How he's beginning to understand what I'm really like, rather than what he assumed he knew. And that what he sees is someone he admires. From surviving in the wilderness, to doing my little best for the rebellion. And the care I've showed for his family. "You've bewitched them, somehow. And, well, I guess I can't blame them." Then he says something about my hair that makes me blush. When I try to cover my face, he stops my hands and says a few other things about the kiss that make me feel dizzy and a bit doubtful that we're talking about the same event.

And then he says. "Look, you and I have a chance to create a future for ourselves, despite everything that's happened to the district, our families and friends. The future's going to be a challenge for each of us, at best. I'd like to know that I'm going into it with someone who can take the haul. I'd like for us to try."

I try for a wry twist of the lips, but it feels more like a watery grin. "Well, despite the fact that you are a blockhead when it comes to these things," Gale's heavy eyebrow arches, "and certainly not an orator. It suits me fine," I say, then step closer. "You may proceed."

And so he does, pulling me into his bandage-free arms. But not for very long before he pulls back and kneads the back of his neck. "We need to find a rock for you to stand on. You're kind of short for an Undersee."

"You have the Donners to thank for that. Think of it as a deterrent from mischief," I reply, deadpan, despite sharp stomach cartwheels. The idea of perching on a rock amuses me, though, and what promises to be an earthy relationship. I step away, but his fingers cling to my palm. "So…wilderness dating. Does that mean we'll find a shrub to sit under on a Saturday night? Share a charred squirrel with a side of fried tubers? Pond water punch? That's romantic."

He cringes and mutters something about merchant girls.

"Also, I should let you know that I'm not allowed to date without a chaperone," I continue, glancing around at the trees without really seeing them. "I think my dad always assumed Hanna would come with, but since she isn't here, we'll have to find a shrub big enough for Bristel to join us."

"Not bloody likely," he growls.

"Why not?" I ask. "He's one of your best friends. I like him."

Gales gives me a look of long suffering. "Trust me. Three's too crowded."

"If you say so," I shrug. "You have more experience with this than I do."

His head snaps back. "What?"

I blush and bite my lip. "Well, when you and Katniss were together…"

"Madge," he says quietly. "Katniss and I were never together. Not really."

"But you kissed her…" I gape.

Gale grimaces. "How do you know?"

"Well." I shrug. "I just assumed. Um. Because you seemed to know what you were doing yesterday."

"I only ever kissed Katniss once." He looks sullenly down at our hands. "It wasn't like…yesterday."

"Oh."

Then his face sharpens into a smirk. "I'm just a natural, I guess."

"Ugh!" I throw his hands away, but he grabs mine back pretty quick. The bully.

He tries to look innocent, but his lip twitches. "Not that there isn't room for improvement."

"Maybe some other time," I grouse, extricating myself from his hands. "I need to wash up."

Gale crosses his arms. "Actually, if you want, I thought I'd teach you to swim today. Then we can check the fish line again."

I balk. "Well, I don't know…maybe I should stay with Prim."

"Maybe," he says, but he doesn't look happy about it. "But she's got Mrs. E and my mom."

Mrs. Everdeen…not sure I want to spend the day with her. Maybe I should tell Gale about that situation? No. One thing at a time. Focus on being a couple, and then we can tackle any bruised feelings.

Still…swimming…there's one problem that I can't overlook. Okay, two actually. I pull at the hem of my – Rory's – shirt. "Gale, I only have this one outfit…and I don't know if getting it all wet is such a good idea."

He begins to reply, but I cut him off. I may as well tell him. "Also, I'm terrified."

"Madge, you escaped from a firebombing, for one. This is child's play in comparison. And two," he says with a smirk. "Vick will save you, should anything go wrong."

"Don't be cruel," I say reprovingly. "Vick is more of a gentleman than you are." Then I ruin it by laughing.

"That's true," he says. Smug. "Vick wouldn't steal a pair of Rory's recently washed shorts for you to swim in."

I pull a face. "That's disgusting."

Gale rolls his eyes. "My mom is a professional washerwoman. Filth couldn't stick to our clothes if it wanted to. Not even coal dust." He tweaks a strand of my hair. "Please?"

"My legs are gross," I try for one more.

He lets out a low whistle. "If you think a few scabs are going to put me off—"

"Fine!" I cry, too embarrassed to hear the rest of what he's going to say. "You bully."

…

I stand there, wide-eyed and frightened in a pair of Rory's clean boxer shorts and my camisole, up to my knees in water. Rory's got Posy on his shoulders a short distance away while he chases Vick around. Even Prim wandered down, though she's sitting on a branch by Bristel instead of coming in the water. I don't understand why this is so important to Gale. Unless he wants me to follow him out into the middle of the stream…so he can what? Watch up close while I drown? I wouldn't put it past him.

Well, in all honesty, I think it's because he really enjoys the freedom of being outside and he feels like he's taking care of us when he's teaching us things. However. His enthusiasm makes me feel like a nervous old woman.

"I'm having second thoughts about this," I groan.

He frowns a little. "Still scared?"

"Maybe…it's just…."I try to think of something reasonable to get out of this. "When am I ever going to need to use this in the real world? Um, I think I'm going to go see if Hazelle needs help with dinner." I begin to wade back to shore.

"Mrs. Everdeen's making dinner tonight."

Never mind, then. I gulp and turn around. He's yards away. "Gale, could you at least meet me half way?"

He cocks his head to the side. "What?"

I point to the water that's lapping high around his chest, about where my nose would be. "I'm not as tall as you."

"Oh." He grins and wades closer to the bank. "Sure."

I move slowly over the pebbly bottom in Gale's direction, trying to adjust to the chilly water, holding my camisole down as it balloons around me. When did it get so loose? My eyes pop when the water reaches just below my hips and my whole body shivers with cold.

"It helps if you just dive in and get it over with," Gale remarks, a little too knowingly for my taste.

"No thanks," I reply. "I might not resurface."

He shrugs a bit condescendingly. "Technically, you wouldn't be able to stay underwater long enough to drown yourself. Without the current helping, that is."

"Technically, a person can drown in her own bathtub," I reply with my nose in the air. The water now comes up to my ribcage and I've nearly reached him. "And this creek is a lot larger than a bathtub."

"I won't let you drown, Madge," he says. "That's the point of teaching you to swim. Then you won't have to be so afraid of the water."

"How often…"I tug the stupid shirt down. "…do you think I intend to wallow about in a river? Like I said, not one of the most useful of skills."

"How about when you're fishing?" he asks seriously, sounding the same way my father did when he tried talking me out of dropping out of school at age five.

"But don't you want to be smart when you grow up, Madgie?"

"No."

"…Or did you intend to stay in the shallows picking off minnows?"

I gaze at him through hooded eyes, frowning, feeling a lot like that five-year-old Madgie again. "I think I'll leave hunting and gathering to the experts from now on."

"That's a shame. But okay, maybe not in the river." Gale scratches the top of his head. "But someday it might save you in the bathtub."

I laugh despite my fear of the water, saying wistfully, "I hope there are bathtubs in my future. Don't roll your eyes!"

Gale's laughter rolls across the water and I try to splash him like Rory did. Most of the water ends up on me. Then my whole body goes rigid when he reaches for my waist, drawing me deeper into the stream. "It's okay. Just take a few minutes to get used to the water," he murmurs encouragingly.

My eyes are crossing. How is it that his body feels so warm when he's been in the cold water for so long? I feel a pang of jealousy. Gale feels a few degrees warmer than everything and everyone. In the meantime I'm succumbing to hypothermia, my skin is tight and covered in gooseflesh, and I'm biting my tongue so my teeth stop rattling together.

"I'm f-freezing. Doesn't this stream know it's July?"

"Madge, this creek is fed by runoff from the mountains. It's always cold."

"Hmph."

"Seriously, it helps to get your whole body wet. Just dunk beneath the surface real quick and your body will adjust to the cold water."

I shake my head.

One dark eyebrow arches in a cavalier fashion. "Trust me."

"Like I have a choice," I mutter. "I'm sort of at your mercy."

Gale purses his lips to the side. "That's true."

Something hooks behind my knees and I feel my legs lurch out from under me as my body jerks backward. Water fills me nose, mouth, and ears. I panic, thrashing my limbs to gain purchase in this fluid environment that envelopes me. Then I feel air on my face as Gale lifts me up, spluttering, flailing, and cursing.

He's laughing and I'm coughing up the river. My nose stings painfully and water sloshes around in my ears. He tries to set me down on my own legs but I throw my arms around his neck like a vice, hooking my legs around his waist. There is no way I'm going back into the water without somebody to hold onto. And if he wants me submerged, then he's going to have to go under, too. Then we'll see who comes up and who doesn't.

When the coughing eases, I hear Rory and Vick laughing. I turn to glare at them. Posy looks confused and a little frightened.

"Madge?" she calls.

"She's fine, Posy. Keep playing," Gale calls.

"You jerk," I croak, glaring at him through the curtain of wet hair sticking all over my face.

Gale picks the hair away with his fingers. "It's for your own good."

"You tried to kill me."

"Madge, you don't have to be afraid of the water."

"I'm not anymore," I snap.

He looks surprised, but says, "Good."

"I'm afraid of you and water. Together." I push against his chest. "I want out."

"If you want to reach the shore, you'll have to swim there." I feel him kick off the riverbed and tow me with him, deeper.

I let go. And go under. For a while. Till it feels like someone's wringing my lungs out and setting them on fire. Then I feel hands gripping my arms, drawing me upward.

"Okay, maybe this isn't a good idea," he says, white-faced, when I break the surface. His arms squeeze my waist. "Hell's teeth! You sink like lead."

I cough up some creek. "Thank you. Just what every girl wants to hear."

"I don't understand why you don't use your arms and legs," he says with a look of utter consternation, like I'm a piece of equipment with faulty pieces or something.

"Because I'm paralyzed with fear," I spit.

"Learn to deal with it," he admonishes or bullies. Or whatever. "Okay, let's start with your legs."

My eyes pop.

"Kicking."

"Oh," I mumble sheepishly.

Grudgingly, I let him tow me around while I kick the water around. I feel like a fool. Posy can maneuver the creek better than I can. Eventually he shows my how to paddle and it takes several false starts before I can figure out how to coordinate my arms and my legs. But the whole time I feel the pressure of the water around my neck and chest, which are never as high above the waterline as I would like. The effort of my arms and legs doesn't support the weight of my body. It's exhausting. I hate the feeling of not having something firm beneath me.

The kids leave long before we do because Gale can't quite understand why I'm not picking up on this, and he's obsessed with perfecting my coordination. In the end, I'm wet, grumpy, and not as good at drowning, yet not much improved in swimming. It doesn't help that Rory's shorts threaten to come off at any moment, and my camisole keeps riding up. Modest.

None-too-soon, my feet touch bottom for the last time. "Gale, I'm done," I say, wringing the moisture out of my hair.

"You're still not very consistent," he says, blinking water out of his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"I don't care," I reply, making a beeline for the shore. "Let Vick save me if he wants." Then I throw in, "Or Bristel, for that matter," just to twit him.

When the water's only to my knees I feel Gale's arms wrap around my waist and legs, scooping me out of the water. Whoa.

"What are you going to do when Vick's not around?" he says with an impish grin on his face.

I grab his neck in a choke hold. "Don't you dare throw me!"

"Huh. I wonder where Bristel ran off to?"

"Gale!"

"No? Off you go, then." He lets me down and I wade back to shore out of his reach, until we get to the bush where our dry clothes are hanging.

Gale lies down on the bank to dry off and pulls me with him. Cupping my face, he kisses the water droplets away. I wrap my arms around him, and he freezes when my fingers brush over the uneven ridges on his bare back. It's not that I haven't seen the scars since the whipping happened, but I can tell by the way he's holding his breath that physical contact with them makes him uncomfortable. But instead of withdrawing, I trace the jigsaw patterns until his breathing returns to normal. Well. Normalish. Considering there are hands and lips between us.

Gale's kisses are innocent enough and come to an end. We stretch out in the warm sun and don't really say much. It's not long before we're both dozing off. I turn on my side, facing away, his arm draped over my hip. I smile to myself. He certainly doesn't do things in halves. Now that he's made a decision, there's no hesitation in his behavior toward me. No easing into the relationship. I don't mind. It's not like I'm going to look any more, anyway. I'm not like those girls in Twelve who kept strings of young men at their beck and call, never preferring one over the other. Constantly in a cycle of who's next, and what's new? And I've wanted him for so long, I guess this doesn't seem as sudden as it is.

Still. It's a bit surreal. Gale is finally mine. A year ago I never would have thought I'd be lying next to him while his thumb draws lazy circles on my hip. Or kissing him.

Or, heck, talking about more than the high price of strawberries?

Soon my mind is buzzing and I need to get up. He looks peaceful, younger. I don't want to disturb him, so I lean down to place a soft kiss on his forehead – how strange it is that I can do that! – and slip his arm off.

Hunger pangs remind me of the neglected fishing line, which needs checking. If I do it while Gale sleeps, then we'll be that much closer to dinner. I grab Rory's flannel shirt, folded next to Gale's extra clothing, quiver, and tackle box, and walk barefoot along the creek.

My shirt and drawers stick uncomfortably, but there's no sense in changing till the fishing's done. I feel odd walking around in boy's boxers, wondering what my parents would think. And I wasn't exactly joking about the chaperone thing. Oh well. Dad trusted Gale enough to get me out of Twelve, I doubt he'd complain too much now, especially since he can't watch over me himself.

A familiar clump of willows marks the spot where Gale rigged the line. I can see my spear standing above the waterline, just outside of the shadow of the trees. Leaving my things on the shore, I wade out. The soreness that's already settling into my poor arms and legs increases with the feel of the tension in the line and its promise of a catch. As I pull it in, the drag grows until I imagine the hugest fish in the world must be at the end.

It isn't, but it's the largest fish I've ever had to handle on my own. Hmm. River fish do have teeth. Ew. And there's the problem of getting them off the hook that I hadn't considered.

Behind me, someone rustles in the thicket.

"Gale, you need to show me how to remove the hooks," I say without turning.

"Well. Hello, darlin'."

I drop the line.

TBC

*cruel chuckle* Thanks for reading!