7.

"I can't believe you're doing this." Prim pronounced, clearly fighting laughter.

Katniss resisted the childish urge to stick out her tongue at her and closed her eyes so her sister could finish applying the make-up that was, apparently, non-optional. Madge turned the bird pin between her fingers and tried to hide her chuckles, a bit ill-at-ease maybe. She and Katniss had been on slightly rocking ground since the Maysilee reveal but she trusted Madge when she said she hadn't meant Haymitch to almost have a heart attack so… She had decided to let it go.

The classroom-turned-dressing-room was too noisy and crowded for her taste and she would have skipped that part of the process entirely if Prim hadn't insisted. She was wearing the yellow dress Effie had given her and her mother had actually gotten out of bed to do her hair earlier. The whole thing felt big in ways that were entirely uncomfortable given that she didn't see the point of walking out on that stage and making a spectacle of herself.

"I can't believe it either." she grumbled.

Truth be told, she was still looking for escape routes.

"Mr Abernathy couldn't get you out of it?" Madge asked.

"He barely managed to get me off the hook because of Glimmer." Katniss made a face, prompting Prim to let out a dismayed noise and accuse her of sabotaging her work. She elected to ignore it just like she had chosen not to doubt a twelve year-old's skills with make-up. When it came to Prim, she had complete faith in her abilities. "That little snitch…"

A little snitch who was saying all around the school that not only was she a thief who broke into lockers but that she had disappeared with Peeta in the men's changing rooms. Everyone had their opinions about that.

Haymitch had been forced to carefully diffuse the thievery accusation – not easy because of her past – and Heavensbee wasn't entirely happy with her still. Not doing the talent show at that point would have been ill-advised – that and Effie might have literally cursed her for ruining her big night.

Prim seemed to be done with her eyes so she cautiously opened them again while her sister compared different shades of red lipsticks. She met Madge's gaze and her friend smiled, carefully pinning the bird brooch on her chest.

"Do you want it back?" Katniss asked. "You've got so little of your aunt…"

"I think it belongs with the Slayer." Madge refused, her smile dimming just a little. "I'm almost done reading the journal Miss Trinket gave to me, you know. Maysilee was… She was a hero. You all are."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm no hero, Madge."

"Yes, you are." Prim argued. "Puck out your lips."

She frowned. "Are you sure you know what you are doing?"

"Do I wear make-up every day?" her sister retorted.

Her frown deepened. "Not that I know of."

She wasn't sure she liked the thought of her baby sister wearing make-up so young.

"That should answer your question, then." Prim cheekily retorted.

"You might want to wipe off some of that eyeshadow…" Madge warned.

Katniss didn't even have time to protest before Prim was applying the lipstick.

Two seconds later, Effie was standing at the doorframe and clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. "It is showtime! Today is a big, big, big day! We cannot be late!" Everyone started filling out of the room and Katniss was standing up too, her legs strangely jelly-like, when the Art teacher caught sight of her and made a face. "Oh dear. That won't do. That won't do at all." She pushed Katniss back down on the chair and shooed Madge and Prim away before cleaning off her face with the wipes Madge had brought, clucking her tongue all the while. "You look like a cave painting!"

She didn't dare protest. Besides, she had a feeling Effie, unlike Prim, knew what she was doing. The woman had her ready in record time, chatting all the while about why Katniss shouldn't be nervous and giving unnecessary tips to fight off stage fright.

"You look perfect." Effie declared at last, her approving gaze roaming over her. "I knew that dress was made for you. You will make them all mad. They will either want to kiss you, kill you or be you."

The witch said it like it was a good thing.

"Thanks." Katniss said, not quite sure what she was thanking her for.

Effie beamed, her lips stretching into a happy grin and ushered her toward the auditorium.

"Now, remember…" the Art teacher whispered before leaving her alone backstage to wait for her turn. "Eyes bright, chin up, smile on."

Well…. Katniss thought, watching her slipping through the curtains to welcome the parents, students and teachers who had bothered to show up, it was either doing what she advised or letting the nausea win.

"Katniss?"

She turned by reflex, registering the voice only too late. Gale stood there, hesitant.

"You look nice." he said.

"I'm not ready to talk to you yet." she snapped.

"Please." he insisted. "I just…"

"I said I'm not ready to talk to you." she cut him off with a hiss.

He studied her for a second and then turned away, shaking his head. It hurt her to watch him go but, for now, it was for the best.

She couldn't trust him, that was the sad truth.

°O°O°O°O°O°

The talent show was just on the right edge between alright and disastrous to be entertaining. If Peeta, Prim and Madge had been the kind for harsh criticisms, they would have had a lot of fun. As it was, they simply exchanged eye rolls and knowing smiles every time something awful happened on stage.

At some point, Peeta spotted Haymitch leaning against the wall, keeping a bored eye on the stage and he excused himself from the girls before starting the long full of "sorry" road that got him out of the row of chairs they were sitting on. The History teacher didn't say anything when Peeta joined him, simply took a discreet sip of his flask.

"I can't believe Katniss is really going to sing." he commented, unable to refrain his excitement. It had been years since he had heard her sing but his childhood self still remembered the thrill of it.

"That's how you know Trinket's a witch." Haymitch snorted. "All senses of the term."

"Effie's nice." he snapped, a bit defensively.

He knew Katniss had wanted to bail out of the talent show but thanks to Glimmer's not really untrue accusations, she hadn't had a real choice. Besides, Effie had been adamant they didn't have time to change anything now and that the show had to go on exactly as it had been rehearsed the previous day. Peeta thought she took her role as a director with a little too much seriousness and dedication because, as Haymitch had pointed out, this wasn't Broadway, but Effie was kind and good-hearted underneath all the flourish and he felt compelled to defend her.

"Didn't say it was a bad thing, now." the Watcher snorted, an amused smirk dancing on his lips. "I've got no problem with witches. Hold your horse."

Peeta searched his face, having zero interest for the magic tricks happening on stage. They were cheap, not really impressive, and now that he had seen real magic, held little fascination for him. Even if he could admit the boy was good at his trade. It wouldn't score him many points with girls, Peeta figured, but he was good.

Finally, he realized that despite the incessant arguments and burgeoning fights, Haymitch really hadn't made it sound like being a witch was a bad thing. If anything, he had seemed fond.

Maybe Effie was growing on him after all.

Peeta leaned back against the wall and watched what was happening on stage for a while. When the would-be magician bowed and Effie introduced the next performer, he slouched a little.

"I'm sorry I disappointed you." he mumbled, feeling the knife twist in his heart again. He didn't blame Haymitch for being so angry with him the other day but the rejection had stung.

"Guess I could say the same." Haymitch muttered. "Look…"

"You were right. I should have talked to Katniss or you the moment Gale came up with this." he sighed. "I don't even know… I just needed space and then…"

"Then you realized you didn't want space." Haymitch finished for him. "It's alright, kid. Sometimes I forget what it's like to be a sixteen year-old boy." He sighed. "Never mind a regular one."

Peeta rubbed the spot on his left forearm where the burn had finally peeled away, leaving a fresh pinkish scar. "I'm not exactly a regular one, though, right?"

He wasn't sure what had made him say it, all the more so in that vulnerable tone of voice. Predictably, because he never missed much, Haymitch's grey eyes tracked his hand and where it was rubbing.

"About that…" the Watcher said slowly, almost carefully. "I ain't gonna force you to tell me what you're not ready to tell me… But, kid… If you need a place to stay…"

"Effie told you." he cut him off. He flushed so hard he could feel the tip of his ears burning.

"Of course, she told me." Haymitch scoffed.

"Is that why you followed me last night?" he challenged. "To make sure I went home?" At the man's slight frown, he shrugged. "The bike isn't really unremarkable, Haymitch."

A part of him had told himself it was because Haymitch didn't trust him anymore, that the Watcher thought he would be meeting with Gale or…

Relief, as tentative as it was since the Watcher had yet to confirm, washed over him in a cool wave.

"You can't sleep outside." Haymitch enounced clearly, even a little firmly. "It's too dangerous. My point is… I ain't gonna force you to talk to me but if you need a place to spend the night again… Or a few days even… You don't set camp in your car, boy, you come to me. Doesn't matter if I'm angry with you, alright? I'm never gonna be so angry I want to leave you to the streets. You can talk to her about it, but I'm pretty sure same goes for Trinket. You've always got a roof if you need it, understood?"

There was a very big lump in Peeta's throat and all he could do was nod. If he had tried to talk, his voice would have cracked and it would have been embarrassing.

Haymitch watched him for a minute and then sighed, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. He flinched a little but it was reflex and the Watcher didn't seem to take offense because he gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Kid, as far as I'm concerned you're just as mine as Katniss is now." the Watcher declared. "And I take care of mine. Won't lie, I don't have the best track records but… I take care of mine."

He was pretty sure Haymitch wasn't expecting the hug because he awkwardly patted his back before letting go, clearing his throat. The Watcher looked a little embarrassed, probably because he didn't like dealing with anything resembling feelings. The Maysilee/Madge thing had proved that if anything.

Finally, Effie announced Katniss and Peeta stood a little straighter. When his friend walked on stage, he sucked in a breath. He hadn't seen her before and she looked… The yellow dress looked soft against her olive skin, her hair was up and twirls of gold ribbons had been braided into it, it gave the impression she had a crown on her head when the spotlights hit it just right, the make-up – and had he ever seen her wearing any? – made her eyes darker, gave her a dangerous edge… She looked blinding.

If he hadn't been in love before, he certainly was now.

"Pick up your jaw, kid." Haymitch advised, contained laughter in his voice.

Peeta closed his mouth but didn't once glanced away from her. That was how he missed Effie sneaking out of the backstage area and joining them.

"Doesn't she look wonderful?" she whispered, with a manic grin.

Katniss looked ill-at-ease on that stage but then she closed her eyes and started to sing. Deep In The Meadow was a local lullaby that Peeta had heard a thousand times. But never like this. A hush fell on the audience with her first notes, her voice was so pure, so perfect, so full of feelings…

He barely felt Haymitch's hand finding his shoulder again, barely noticed the man leaning in.

"You're in too deep, boy." the Watcher commented in his ear, a little mocking but not without compassion.

Peeta threw him a quick glance, noticed the way Effie had sneaked both her arms around his and was hugging it close to her chest, her eyes on Katniss, teary from the song…

Maybe he was in too deep, he thought, but he had the feeling he wasn't the only one.

°O°O°O°O°O°

Haymitch should have left the bed the moment they were done.

The problem hadn't arisen the other night – mostly because they had never made it to the bed, they had barely made it inside and Trinket had been the only one with no clothes on by the time Katniss had called about the demon, he had still been on his knees and there had been no time to make it fair – but he knew if he lingered too long he would be setting a precedent that he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with.

And yet, there he laid, with one hand distractedly brushing up and down her naked back, his eyes studying the walls of her bedroom.

"This place looks like a brothel." he snorted eventually.

Who painted their bedroom crimson?

"Are you complaining?" she grinned, pillowing her head on her arms to look at him. She was lying next to him, on her stomach, unconcerned by the fact the sheets had fallen off the bed at some point.

He liked that about her, how unconcerned she was with nudity, how confident she was about her body… Some women snatched the sheets up as soon as the deed was done, she didn't mind him looking – admiring – and there was a lot to look at. The hand roaming on her back traveled lower until he found her ass…

He was on his side, turned toward her and maybe that, too, was a mistake. It betrayed an interest he was pretty sure he didn't want to deal with any more than he wanted to shoulder her possible expectations. His interest gave her power over him and he hated it when someone had something to hold over him.

But, fuck, if he could stop himself from wanting her…

"Fits you." he teased.

Another woman might have taken offense – and she was always behaving so prim and proper he almost expected her to – but she laughed instead, as confident in her skills in the bedroom as she was about her appearance. She had reasons to be though.

Her smile softened a little as she searched his face. "Tonight was amazing, wasn't it?" A smug smirk stretched his lips but she rolled her eyes before he could answer that with a taunt about his own many skills. "Take your mind out of the gutter, Haymitch, really! I meant the talent show. It went well, didn't it? Plutarch congratulated me twice."

"You do get the teacher thing is only a cover story, yeah?" he mocked.

"It is no excuse not to do the best job we can." she argued with a pout that he considered kissing away for a good minute.

He might have if she hadn't shivered.

"Cold?" he asked, already glancing around for a corner of the blankets he could tug on with his foot. Picking up the sheets would have meant moving and, if he moved, he knew he would have to go. He didn't want to go just yet.

"I saw Gale talking to Katniss." she told him. "She rejected him."

"Good." he commented, letting go of his quest for the blankets. She didn't actually look cold, just… worried. "What? Spit it out, sweetheart."

She hesitated, he saw it plainly. She hesitated and then bent her leg so her shin was pressed against his thighs. It was casual, it could have passed for an accident, but it looked a little too casual. He had a feeling she was just searching for contact, for comfort maybe.

"Do you think… Do you think it might have worked? His plan to force the Slayer's line on me?" she whispered.

She hid it well because she was good at always keeping up a pretence but he heard the fear in her voice.

"It'd have killed Katniss." he argued. And he dearly hoped the boy had given up on that stupid idea. He'd need to sit him down and have a talk with him again soon. Once he was sure he had calmed down enough that he would not try to strangle him again.

"I know." She shifted again, turning completely away from him until all he could see was her back and her slender neck. He stubbornly placed his hand on her hip, refusing to be dismissed that easily. There was a scar on her hipbone. There were a few others on her body, none too noticeable. He liked them. It proved she was a fighter too – if that still needed to be proven. She curled up. "But do you think… Do you think it would have worked or would the next Slayer have been called?"

"Do you want to be the Slayer?" He frowned, not quite following her. It was never going to happen anyway. No spell like that existed, it would have to be created. And Hawthorne didn't have the means, the resources or the power to do it. Sure, he could probably hire someone to do it for him but…

"No." The answer was immediate and followed by another of those shivers that didn't seem to come from the cold.

He deliberated for a second and then threw caution to the wind. He snuggled close behind her, spooning her. Spontaneous cuddles were a big no-no with one-night-stands, he reminded himself. And yet the tension in her body slowly eased and he considered it a win.

"What's up with you?" he asked, letting his hand slide down from her hip to her stomach.

She grabbed the hand and brought it up to her breast. He didn't mind that sort of cuddling session at all so he fondled it while she talked. "I have been thinking…"

"Told you you'd end up hurting yourself…" he taunted. His punishment was immediate. She relocated his hand to her stomach again. He hid his sulk in the soft curls of her hair, nuzzling her nape in something that wasn't quite an apology. "Fine. What have you been thinking about?"

"Fate." she murmured. "Do you believe in fate?"

Hard not to when it had dictated most of his life, calling his mother and his girlfriend to serve in a hopeless holy war against evil. Hard not to when he had witnessed firsthand how cruel it could be.

"I believe fate's a bitch." he offered honestly. "What's it got to do with anything?"

"I might have been a Slayer." she answered. "I might have been the Slayer instead of Maysilee twenty years ago. Perhaps the Council would have sent me here. Perhaps you would have been my Watcher…"

"More likely you'd have kept your Watcher, Princess." he countered and then conceded. "But they might have sent me to help."

"Chances are we would have met then." she insisted. "Chances are I would be dead."

"No chances about that." he said, almost regretfully. "You'd be dead."

Something would have gotten her at some point or other with or without his personal determination to keep her safe. Even the best Slayers fell eventually.

And history had proven he was not much of a body shield. He stood back up every time but his girls… His girls always fell.

"Yes." She licked her lips, burrowed back a little. He tightened his hold, not liking that line of thoughts any more than she did. Imagining her dead was strangely disturbing. "My point is… Here I am now, twenty years later, in the town I would have been sent to if I had been called, in a relationship with you, and a boy talks about making me the Slayer even though I am supposed to be free from that possibility… It all feels a little too much like fate and I cannot help but wonder… Are those omens? Am I going to die here now like I might have twenty years ago?"

When she presented it like that…

"We ain't in a relationship." he countered because that was the easiest thing to deny. The only one he was in any position to deny with certainty, really.

"Of course, we are." she argued. He tensed but before he could panic or lose his temper, she wrapped her fingers around his forearm. "I do not mean a romantic one. We can… We can keep the sex casual, if you wish. But we do have a relationship now. A working one if anything. I would like to think we are friends at the very least too."

And she was right, he figured.

He sighed and scooted back so he had enough space to force her to roll on her back. She did so willingly enough, searching his eyes. She looked so small and frightened… He didn't like that. He brushed the back of his fingers on her cheek, gently nudged her chin up a little…

"Fate has biggest fish to fry than you, Effie." he said slowly, forcing his tone to sound mocking. "You've got such an ego… Everything has to be about you, yeah? There are some things like coincidences, you know."

But that was bigger than a few coincidences and they both knew it.

"It is the first time you called me Effie." she remarked, brushing her hand down his chest.

He felt a change of topics was in order. "So… The casual sex… How would it work?"

The gloomy thoughts slowly vanished from behind her eyes, replaced with amusement and a touch of arousal – although that might have been because his hand had wandered down her stomach.

"Casual. As the name implies." she deadpanned, letting her legs fall open. One of them was propped against his stomach and he hooked his arm around it for better access… "Haymitch…"

"I've never done that kind of things." he admitted. He had one-night-stands. A relationship, even a casual one… He hadn't had that since he had been sixteen. He had never even slept twice with a woman since… "Ain't sure how it works."

"Well…" She was a little short of breath and he dropped a kiss against her shoulder with a smirk before moving his mouth to her breast. "Oh. There would be… No strings attached… You are free… I am free… But if we are both in the mood…"

The breathy pauses in the middle of her sentences made it very hard for him to stay focused.

"No complications." he insisted. "No dating. No feelings."

"No dating, no feelings." she agreed, her head falling back a little when his fingers hit the right spot. "Yes…"

He brought her close a few times only to leave her hanging, amused by the pleasure and the frustration battling on her face.

"I've got a question…" he said against her mouth. It might not have been the best time to ask it but it had been on his mind for the past couple of days. Since the hospital. "You like girls too?"

Her eyelids flew open and she searched his eyes for a while before licking her lips. She didn't stop rocking her hips.

"I like people." she answered. "No matter the package. Is that a problem?"

She asked it in a very detached tone that told him it had been a problem before.

He had never really found himself in that situation before and he had never really needed to consider it but he found that he already had an answer ready and that it was an easy one. "Not as long as you like my package."

The way she kissed him next made him dizzy with lack of oxygen. From then, it grew wild and rough.

He briefly wondered if it could ever be anything but wild and rough. And then he stopped thinking.

Temptation.

Giving in to it was the first step on the slippery path that went down to hell…

Well…

It looked like he was hell bound.

And it's the end of this episode! I hope you enjoyed it! What do you think the future holds for them? Find out in two weeks time in our new episode!