Chapter 44: Forrest Barker

Katniss's POV

"Excellent work, class! I can tell you've been doing your reading!" I smile out at my Upper School pupils who make up my Hunger Games History class, rounding my desk as I press the clicker to bring us to one of the last slides of the day. "Now: Forrest Barker won the 44th Games because he was in….?"

A hand of a fifteen-year-old boy who I know has a bit of a student's crush on me but he doesn't have the guts to admit it even to himself raises his hand quickly, and I call on him. "…. his natural environment!"

"Excellent way of putting it, Flint!" I praise and I watch as Flint turns pink nearly all over. "Being from District 7, we can… presume… that Forrest Barker was quite comfortable in and around trees. My husband says that I myself am very much at home in and around trees, and I have to admit that he's right!" My class lets out a polite wave of chuckles at this, the timbre of it making them sound older and more mature then their late teenager years suggest. "Of course, his arena was not without its challenges – The trees in his Games were what we'd call deciduous trees, dotted with spiky thorns." I beam an image up onto the powerpoint to show what I mean, while giving a wry smirk. "Not exactly great for climbing, unless you actually want to have thorns pierce clean through your hand…" Another laugh. "… but still, Forrest did what little adapting he needed to do because he was already in a tribute's natural home environment, also known as their ideal environment. And that by itself could and often did offer a tremendous advantage to the ultimate Victor."

The bell rings right on time and my students jovially dive for their bags and file towards the door. "Remember to study ahead and have prepared questions regarding Haymitch's Quell – that material is going to make it onto the midterm!" I call after them, circling my desk and shuffling papers as I also power the projector screen down and watch it start to roll up. My blue, old Reaping dress hangs nicely around my frame, and I smile as I look over the latest tests before I'll have to sit down and grade papers during my free period.

I hadn't thought I would want to go into teaching at the district – now state – school, and especially not so soon (roughly eighteen months) after the war. When I was fighting for my life in the Games, and later out of District 13, I hadn't exactly had the time to consider a career path when I didn't think I would stay alive to see the next morning. But as Twelve – Everdeen, I correct myself on our new name that we voted on to apply to Paylor for statehood – reconstructed and fell into a new normal, Haymitch and Peeta had urged me to find something to do that might give me new purpose in life besides hunting and keeping house for Peeta and myself. The boys had reminded me that I enjoyed helping Prim with her homework when she was little, and they thought that might translate well into educating the next generation to be better informed than we were.

I started with little ones, on a trial period at first, and then – those meddling men were right! – I never left. I eventually was promoted to Upper School, teaching several classes on Hunger Games History.

My students are scholastically rigorous, eager to learn. Most importantly, they're also tactful – rarely have any of them asked me a question about either of my Games, though I know I won't be able to avoid giving those answers forever. I'll have to talk about the 74th Games and the Quell in our last lessons, just before the End-of-Year Final.

I'm alone in my classroom now, still standing over my desk, when I start upon hearing the door echo when closed. I stiffen a little, deciding not to turn my head and investigate. The person's tread alone is a dead giveaway, and I bite back a smile. He's never learned how to move silently since our first arena….

Still, I do not turn, waiting expectantly. When I finally do feel strong calloused arms steal about my waist and soft lips nibble into my neck, I am still caught by surprise enough to let out a happy screech.

"OH!" I squirm, finally spinning about in my laughing husband's arms, smiling at him radiantly. "Oh, you startled me!" Both of us giggling, I reach up to languidly loop my arms about my Peeta's neck and permit him to kiss me, melting into it.

"Afternoon, Mrs. Mellark," he drawls, blue orbs dancing.

I smirk in deep amusement. "Afternoon, yourself, mister. I'm sorry, did you have a question about the last test?"

"Yes: please don't fail me, Teacher! I'll make it up to you with extra credit!" I feel Peeta's hands dip lower to feel up my bum through the skirts of my dress, and I allow my breath to hitch, drawing him closer.

"Define 'extra credit.'"

Peeta smirks against where he's been lavishing the soft curve of my neck. "Being the Teacher's Pet." There's something about the way he says it that makes it sound terribly dirty. I gasp again as he licks his tongue over my pulse point.

"But who would be the pet to whom?"

"A fair and grammatically correct question," my seductive husband hisses. "Now, can I please kiss you?"

"May I please kiss you?" I schoolmarmishly correct him. Peeta lifts his head to peer into my eyes, and I grin. "Why, yes, I suppose you may."

Peeta draws me close and kisses me again deeply, and I relax into it, just a little, twining my fingers into his golden hair. "MmmmHmmmm…."

Only when he starts to bend me back over my desk and bunch my blue skirts up past my hips to I get a hold of myself. "P-Peeta…." I pant, eyes wide. "We…. we can't…. We mustn't…."

"Why not?" he growls around my tongue now curled about his.

"Be…. because…" I'm rapidly losing air and thus rational thought to my brain. "Because it's the middle of the school day!"

"And it's your free period. We have a whole hour to just… you know." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively at me and I gawk out a laugh at him, smacking his chest.

"I'm serious…"

"So am I…."

"What…. what if someone hears us down the hall?"

"Then you'll just have to be a good little girl and be quiet while I fuck you." I mewl at the lust in his voice. "Besides, I locked the door."

I huff. "Oh, all right!" And hiking up my skirts, I tug Peeta back into a tongue-fueled kiss while he expertly guides his digits past my soaked panties. In no time at all, I'm hot, wet and ready for him as my husband swirls his fingers around my clit before sinking several of them at once into my warmth.

"Errrmmm….. Uhhhhh….." I moan prettily, bucking my hips into his palm as he fucks me with his hand. "Yes….. Yessss….. stroke me just like that…."

Peeta chuckles. "How about I stroke you with something else?"

My grey eyes go wide, even with my face now buried into his shoulder, when I get his meaning. "Oh, Gods….." I arch my back. "No…. No, this isn't right…. W-We really mustn't…."

"Yes," Peeta only growls, and kissing me hard, he dips me over the top of my desk so that I am pinned beneath, my skirts spreading out around the apex of my legs as I spread my thighs wide for him. I part my lips for him as well, the seam of my mouth tumbling open like a flower bursting into full bloom. Peeta's hands are cupping and squeezing my pebbled mounds, and I shuck my bodice down so he can touch me there, skin-to-skin. I lift my hips up off the desk, folding my legs about his middle to bring him in closer.

"I need to fuck you, Katty girl…."

"I know…. I know you do…." I whimper. "You have me. So take me. I want you to fuck me!"

Peeta's throbbing member slams into me, and when I try to let out a happy scream, he helpfully claps a hand over my traitorous mouth. "MMMMMHMMMMM! Mmmmm…."

"Grrrr….. Urrrr…." Peeta is grunting into my mouth as the desk rattles and shakes beneath us from the force of his shagging me.

"Ohhhh…. Uhhhh…. Oooooh…. Peet-Peet-AHHHHHH…. Snow's Roses, I'm gonna cum, don't you dare stop….. "

One more thrust takes me over the edge, and I squeal around Peeta's hand, my core pulsing as I writhe through my release. I let out another yelp when Peeta empties himself inside of me and collapses on top of me.

After a moment where we stay joined and catch our breath, my husband pulls out like the gentleman he is, and even helps me to my feet off the desk. I smooth down my dress, flushed pink all over.

"By the State, I hope no one heard that…"

"We know how to be quiet…" Peeta dismisses a little cavalierly, creeping up behind me where I am rifling through papers to suck on my neck again.

"Peeta…. Stop!" I laugh gaily. "I have to go over my lesson plans…"

"OK, OK," Peeta lets up, hands still ghosting over my hips as he peers over my shoulder at my lesson book. "Which Games are you on, anyway?"

"I just finished the 44th…." I prattle.

"Did you say 44th?" Peeta's eyes gleam. "Forrest Barker, right?"

I eye him, blinking, impressed. "Yes…"

"I'm sketching him right now! We're up to him in the Lexicon!"

"The Book, you mean?" I had nearly forgotten about that project. We've been making headway on it in our spare time (of which there is little) for the last couple of years.

"Yeah." Peeta plucks my lesson plans about Forrest Barker off my desk to examine them. "Can I borrow your lesson plans?"

"May I borrow your lesson plans?" I loftily correct him, even as I snatch them back. "And no, you may not! I still have one more class to get through, and then I'll bring the material back with me tonight! Fair?"

"Fair," Peeta grins. "Kiss?" Tilting my head, I firmly press my lips to his in a chaste peck. He squeezes my bum, and I lightly smack his hand away. "See you at home then."

"See you at home." I lift my eyes to his just as he's getting to the door, smiling tenderly. "I love you."

Peeta grins. "Always."