Chapter 61: Prodigy Giorgio

Belle Everdeen is alone in her house in the Seam, up late knitting and watching a re-run of Prodigy Giorgio of District 1 charming her way through the 61st Hunger Games from last summer (the Victory Tour is in a couple of months) when she hears a knock at the door.

Glancing up from her work, she daintily rises from the rocking chair and crosses past where her rambunctious three-year-old is in her crib along the far wall and is supposed to fall asleep any minute. Checking the mantelpiece clock, Belle dares to hope that it's her husband returned from the mines, but probably not; Glen works the late shift down the shafts on Friday nights and usually isn't due back until well after sunrise.

Nevertheless, Belle starts when she answers her door to find her ex, the Baker, standing on the front stoop. His smile is still so dear as he takes off his cap.

"Evening, Belley. I, um…. I got a little twinge of something I thought you might be able to take a look at, unless you want me to come back tomorrow."

"No, no, it's fine," Belle smiles weakly, standing aside and holding the door further ajar. "Please. Do come in."

Dannel Mellark smiles and steps across the threshold while Belle moves to shut the door against the chilly autumn wind. Seam shacks don't have much in the way of insulation or internal heating, so the abodes can get quite drafty, especially at night. She is kept warm at night in bed by her wonderful husband and the fine District 8-manufactured quilt he had saved up to buy her as a wedding present, which Glen presented her with at their Toasting.

Belle lights a few candles (unlike Merchant households, Seam homes don't possess electricity and have very little running water) and motions for Danny to hop up on the kitchen table, which will double as her examination bench. He shucks off his shirt, and Belle can't help but suck in both a breath and a moan: though they are both rapidly approaching their thirties, his chest is still so toned and beautifully marred from all his years growing up working the ovens. She recognizes some of the burn scars herself, though there are new ones to add to his collection.

Although, the "little twinge" Danny identifies for her to treat now is swollen and purple and the farthest thing from a burn. It's a bruise. Danny doesn't offer up an explanation, and Belle doesn't ask for one, though she can hazard a guess. Danny is married himself now, the father of three little boys, the youngest of whom is her Katty's age. But Miriam Mellark is not nearly so gentle and loving as she was when they were together.

Belle readies both the antiseptic and the witch hazel (rubbing alcohol can be hard to come by in Twelve, so she keeps herself well-stocked even with whatever drinking liquor is left after Haymitch Abernathy is finished with swimming his way through the Hob). She presses a cotton ball to the wound and Danny hisses…. Though her heart races to think that the sound is drawn out more on account of her touch than from the sting of the alcohol.

She's close enough to him to feel the heart radiating off his body, heat from the ovens he works, and Belle tries to focus as she conducts a cursive physical exam. Her job is such that she can't help but touch the hard planes of his chest as she moves down to his abs, and she sucks in another breath.

Her pair of impossibly blue eyes suddenly lift to meet his own to find that they are smoldering. Suddenly, Danny's lips are on hers as he kisses her quite fiercely, and Belle's answering gasp parts her lips so that she acceptingly takes his tongue deep in her throat.

Embracing her by her slim waist, Danny pulls Belle between his legs set in a wide stance. The district healer moans as her hands glide sinuously up his chest to come and rest on his broad shoulders, gripping the flesh in her fists. Her eyes seem to be sewn shut as tightly as her forgotten knitting.

"Errmmmm….. Mmmmm…. Hmmmm…. D-Danny," Belle finally gets his tongue to stop swimming in her mouth as they both come up for some much-needed air. She groans when her former lover begins planting feather kisses into the soft curve of her neck, which is already starting to shimmer with sweat. "We're…. we're both married…"

"… and I still want you," Danny murmurs huskily, and Belle lets out a squeak when his calloused fists suddenly feel up the curved flesh of her ass through the folds of her long dress.

"But…. No…. No-Mmmmm…. Hmmm…." Belle's sound is cut off when Danny comes back to devouring her lips and the State help her, she lets him, even as she weakly tries to twist away. "No, this isn't right…. We – We mustn't…. this is wrong…."

He suddenly and eagerly shoves his thigh between her open-scissored legs, rubbing himself against her femininity that is already, traitorously wet, and Belle swallows a shout. Her sexy hips – still with meat on them after a Merchant upbringing of good nutrition – begin to respond to the seduction, leaning into Danny's touch, trying to find and hang onto friction.

She is mewling as she surrenders and allows him to frantically undress her, pushing her skirts up over her hips and nearly over her head. Belle clamps her spread legs around Danny's middle and his erection jerks up with every thrust of his hips in parallel to her folds, in a crude imitation of sex.

The bodice of her dress is yanked down past her swollen breasts, rising like the yeast Danny has handled all his life, and he talentedly attends to them much as he would dough. Belle's purple nipples pebble happily when exposed to the cool night air and Danny's mouth. He retracts back, replaces his mouth with his fingers to tweak her breast. When he lowers these too, indecisive over whether to act in favor of his palms or his lips, Belle stuns herself when she assertively pushes her boobs back into Danny's hands.

"Mmmmm-hmmmm… Yes, more please," she rasps around his tongue.

His pants now deftly unzipped by her, the suspenders dangling, Belle now allows herself that surprised and happy shout as Danny slides inside her with one fierce push. This time, his mouth swallows up the sound as his tongue twines about hers.

Katniss's POV

"ERRRR! UGHHHH! HUHHH! UHHH! AHHH! OHH!"

Mommy and the Baker man are now playing that game that Mommy likes to play with Daddy, the one where they take off all their clothes and rub up against each other while making funny noises, then they'll wrestle some until Daddy is bouncing on Mommy.

Mommy and the Baker man are both now grunting and shouting at each other while the Baker bounces on Mommy while standing up. They don't notice me silently watching through the bars of my crib as the table is cleared with the sweep of a hand and then Mommy is being bent back over the wood and the Baker scrambles on top of her. He rubs and bounces on her some more. Mommy then rubs and bounces some on him, rocking and bucking and hee-hawing like the Donkey keeper's donkeys.

Mommy even screams at one point, though she doesn't sound like she's hurt as she falls on the Baker man, shimmering since her body's just given her a bath. The Baker man rocks against her some more, grunting, and then he too lies still.

Mommy and Baker man put their clothes back on, then Mommy kisses Baker Man the same way she likes to kiss Daddy, and he leaves. When Mommy goes back to her knitting, her eyes are wet. Why is she crying? She doesn't cry when she plays the Rubbing Game with Daddy, and bounces on him.

Meanwhile, on the color picture box, the pretty blonde princess is grinning while playing swords.

I'm excited several months later when Mommy and Daddy sit me on their knees and tell me there is a present waiting for me in Mommy's tummy and that I get to be a big sister.

Years Later

I am naked and sweaty and crying while lying in bed with my husband, turned away from him to face the wall. Peeta is gently spooning me from behind, dipping his lips into the damp curve of my neck to kiss the one freckle there.

"Katniss?" he murmurs. I don't answer him, sniffling. "Katty girl, what is it? Talk to me."

I whimper and shake my head, submerged in a new understanding. "It was only a dream. A… a memory."

I feel his soft lips brush the corner of my mouth. "Tell me."

Shifting to look into his eyes over my shoulder, my own orbs are shimmering with tears. "We were so lucky, to have Prim…."

I pick up on the way Peeta frowns at my use of pronouns. I said 'We were so lucky,' not 'I was so lucky.' Too scared and emotional to answer his questions right now, I push my hand hard into his chest, slamming onto his back in our bed as I assertively swing one creamy leg over his hips as I move to sultrily straddle him. Enthroned regally on his thighs, I place my hands lightly on his firm pecs. My husband takes me with one powerful thrust, and rolling my hips, we play the Bouncing Game again, my own happy noises loud enough to wake the whole Village.

"Uhhhh….. Huhhh… ERRRR! UGGHHHH! MMMM! HMMMM!"