Chapter 14: Katniss Everdeen, Schoolteacher

Peeta has been out at work with the construction crews this cold, early winter morning, for a couple of hours. He left me with a parting kiss on our front porch, and I watched him until he was beyond the gates of the Village with a dreamily content smile on my face.

Now that our sex life isn't being consumed from all over the web, Peeta and I have made the most of our time alone exploring this new intimacy. I didn't think I would like sex, when I heard the other girls whispering about it in school when I was young. I had heard the tales of Merchant and Seam fellas alike taking willing girls out to the Slag Heap, behind the mines. I didn't understand what all the fuss was about. Now, where making love is concerned, I'm coming to rather enjoy it.

The fall-out from the first time didn't just have to do with the bugs. I realized with horror that Peeta and I had shagged without protection, and had thus spent the better part of two days having a panic attack and crying about it to Haymitch. What if I was pregnant? I rambled, gasping for air. What if I was pregnant? I could see disappointed expressions in both of the men to my clearly adverse reaction to potentially having a baby because I couldn't keep my knees closed, but if both Peeta and Haymitch had anything to say about it, they kept it to themselves. Ultimately, Haymitch was a big help in walking me through a supremely awkward morning of purchasing Capitol condoms online, plus an implant for me, to be shipped express delivery. It was a satisfactorily traumatizing experience for us both. Then Haymitch left to go rail over the holophone to Plutarch about "when is this State going to establish a damn hospital?!"

I'm lifted from my thoughts by the door opening, and I spin about happily, not expecting Peeta to be home from work this early. Though he has been on reduced hours as the days have gotten shorter; Thom will order construction on current housing projects halted completely once the first frost sets in. Peeta doesn't mind. He's been happy to bake and provide for us here. The rebuilding of his family's bakery, in its original spot, is next up in the queue – Peeta and the workmen are drawing up the blueprints now.

So I am surprised when, flitting into the foyer, I pull up short seeing it is Haymitch come to call. He smirks.

"Glowing is a really weird look on you, Sweetheart. Least the Boy keeps you satisfied." His grey eyes are dancing with a strange yearning, and I frown.

"I'm not pregnant, Haymitch. Just in love." The implant I gave myself has been remarkably effective. It's supposed to be renewed annually.

"Well, if you have nothing better to do, fancy hiking out with me to Lucy Gray Baird? I need to pick a shipment up from the station."

I could use some fresh air. Peeta won't be due back for another two hours, at the earliest. All the same, I leave a note for my dearie just in case and match Haymitch step for step as we crunch out of the Village through the paths of new fallen leaves.

The train station is bustling when we get there, porters schlepping bags and conductors calling out the next rides to be due. Though it's slowed up since the end of the war, more immigrants keep coming at bursting intervals every several weeks; we're up to nearly 1,000 people in Everdeen now.

"Howdy there, Fendy!" Haymitch greets the stationmaster, Fender, an ex-pat from the former Six. "Anything for me?"

Fender grins. "They just delivered a whole cage, Mr. Abernathy!"

"Much obliged. I have a pen ready."

I wait for him to reach into his shirt pocket for a pen, possibly to sign off on the order form for whatever he's purchased, but he doesn't. I blink expectantly. "Don't you need something to sign…?"

"Oh, I don't mean that kind of pen, Sweetheart," Haymitch chortles. "I mean… this kind of pen…."

A cage mounted on a trolley suddenly rounds the corner, and I take in what Haymitch has bought with a gasp. A flock of geese are sticking their beaks through the bars of the cage, squawking indignantly.

"Haymitch! What on earth….?"

"Since when do you sound like Effie Trinket?" Haymitch ribs me, but his smile is sheepish. "I, uh…. I bought these fresh from a ranchhand in Ten…. I mean, Texas."

"What are you going to do with them?" I gape at him, bewildered.

"Gonna breed 'em. Sort of like what Goat Man did with his goats."

I let a laugh fly before I can stop it. "Haymitch Abernathy? With a job?" I never thought I'd see this day. Then again, I once thought I would never go to bed with a man, and look where that got me! Perhaps this will be good for the old geezer… if he can keep it.

I squirm when Haymitch looks genuinely offended by my mockery. I grin apologetically. "Haymitch, I was only teasing. I think it's great! I'll help you wheel them back."

It takes some effort to push the baggage trolley up Victors' Hill, and by the time Haymitch directs me to loading the geese in the pen on his back lawn, Peeta is coming round back of the house, whistling. Upon seeing the geese, his face breaks into a beaming smile.

"You weren't kidding!" He dashes over to admire them, smiling encouragingly at Haymitch before giving me a tired kiss in greeting.

"You knew about this?" I blink rapidly.

"He's been mentioning it to me off and on, so I said go for it!"

I shrug. "Well, Haymitch, it will give you something to do."

"Speaking of something to do…." Haymitch and Peeta share a surreptitious glance. "We think you should also get one."

I blink, not following. "Get one what? A goose?"

"A job," the boys chorus.

I gawk, hands on my hips. "I have a job, thank you! I'm still hunting once a day, and am feeding close to half the state…"

"… and when you're done making your trades, what else do you do with your life, other than keep house and screw in bed with the Boy?" Haymitch frowns. "We already know you have no desire to be in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant…"

"I don't need to be. Peeta feeds us more than I do and anyways, I'm a terrible cook." I don't touch upon the mention of possible motherhood.

"Well, if you don't want to be the stay-at-home wifey, and you're only in the woods for a couple hours at best, what else are you going to do with your day?" Haymitch jabs.

I open my mouth to retort… then realize I can't when I actually see that he has a point. I hug myself, scowling petulantly at being out-debated. "But what else can I do? Hunting and loving Peeta are the only things I'm good at."

Peeta lets out a musical laugh at this, pecking my lips chastely. "No doubt. But you have a lot more to offer than that, Katniss; you just don't know it. You're a fine teacher – you instructed me how to use a bow properly and the abysmal results were only because I'm a poor student!"

I smile at the memory, flushing pink. "What's your point?"

"There are openings for teachers at the school. Governor Petrie just announced they're reopening for the spring semester; we finally have enough pupils to fill several classrooms!" My lover pauses, voice soft as he adds: "You were always a good teacher to Prim, helping her with her homework. All we're saying is that you apply. Delly's going to. You can help each other."

I chew on my bottom lip, thinking it over. "OK. I'll try it. For just a semester to see how it goes."

Peeta's answering beam and kiss are all worth it.

I bend low over the oven, checking the turkey cooking inside for our Wintermas feast. The snowfall has arrived to blanket Everdeen in thick coats of white. I am wearing my blue Reaping dress while here safe and warm in my cozy mansion.

While still bent over, I suddenly feel something hard and stiff brush up against the curve of my bum, rubbing against me. At his moan, I giggle and try to rise to my full height, turning, but Peeta's arms entrap me.

"Oh, no you don't," he hisses huskily in my ear. "I was just enjoying the view." He nibbles his lips along the pulse point of my neck, and I giggle, my arms reaching to embrace his neck even as the rest of me attempts to squirm away.

"Peeta! Stop…. Haymitch could walk in here any minute, and you know he doesn't knock."

"Then, let's give him a show in case he does walk in on us, why don't we?" Peeta's sparkling blue eyes are now black with lust and it makes my breath hitch. When he kisses me full on the lips, I try to resist at first, so that our hurried embrace takes on the tone of a wrestling match.

Sadly, I know who the better wrestler is between the two of us, and it isn't me. In a moment or two, I have yielded, melting into his kiss as Peeta bends me back over the stove. His calloused and strong hands cup me under my thighs, hoisting me off my feet, and I fold my legs about him as we continue to make out heavily. Pushing the folds of my party dress up over my hips, Peeta begins to hump me. Growling, digging my nails into the flesh of his toned buttocks, I furiously gyrate my hips back in perfect time.

It's so… passionate and dangerous, but I nonetheless listen carefully as Peeta and I kiss in case we do get walked in on.

The sound of the door opening is all that saves us, and with great reluctance, I push Peeta away and he sets me down so that I can smooth down my skirts. Footsteps, and then Haymitch rounds the corner from the foyer a moment later. I fail to hide my blush, or how my lips are swollen and pink.

My mentor just smirks. "And what are you two up to?"

A beeping suddenly starts to pick up, and I spin back to the oven.

"The turkey!" Peeta and I get it out in time and I lay it out the table, proud as can be. It was a team effort. I hunted and skinned the turkey, and Peeta expertly cooked it.

The three of us sit around the table after I carefully light the candles, so that we're all ready for our holiday meal.

"I think we should pray before we start. The laws against religion are still being repealed, you know that, but I think it would be appropriate," I suggest. "Let's hold hands."

We do, and there is a prolonged silence. I finally look up at Peeta and Haymitch, biting my lip.

"Does anybody…. know a prayer?"

"Not me." Peeta matches my wince.

"Uh-uh," Haymitch shrugs.

"Wait!" I cry, recalling a distant memory from when I was still a toddler – a benediction Seamers used to sometimes say in secret. "God is great… God is good…"

"… and we thank him for our food…" Haymitch joins in. "By his hand, we all are fed…"

"… Thank you for our daily bread!" Peeta finishes in a triumphant shout, also recalling the words, long thought forgotten.

I chuckle. "Spoken like a true baker's son." And I lean round the head of the table to kiss him.

"Gag me with a spoon," Haymitch mutters. When the drumstick is retrieved, I throw it at him.

After the Wintermas holiday, I stand in the school play-yard in my best frock and coat, Peeta and Haymitch by my side, my stomach a bundle of nerves.

"What if they don't like me?" I fresh.

"They'll love you," Peeta ghosts his lips over mine. "Not every student can say they have a hero for a teacher."

"I'm not a hero…" I mumble.

"The commissioned statue of you right there disagrees with you," Haymitch snorts, pointing to my likeness still looming over the courtyard. He claps me on the shoulder. "Good luck on your first day, Sweetheart; we want to hear all about it when you come back." He gives a jerk of his head towards Peeta. "Come on, Boy."

Peeta and I embrace and share a deep, goodbye kiss.

"Have a good day, love."

I smile weakly and turn back to the school. Squaring my shoulders back, I march into the building.

The headmistress – a plump, sweetfaced woman named Cardella - has assigned me to a Lower School Grades 2 and 3 combination. The group of about fifteen children are rowdy, but adorable as they prance about me. Soon as they see me, however, a hush falls over them and I feel all their little eyes gazing at me, enraptured.

I clear my throat and give my best smile as the kids dutifully take their seats. "Good morning, children. My name is Miss Everdeen." I write it out on the blackboard. "I'm… going to be your new teacher. Now, I am new to this just as much as you are; we haven't been in school for awhile. But if you help me, I'll help you."

My students nod eagerly.

"Now: who here remembers their times tables….?"