So Katniss doesn't want to go to his window but she should never say never. The way things are in the district can really affect everyone. What has Darius seen? Why are there so many Peacekeepers around?

Thank you for all of the reviews and the likes and to my Beta Norberts mom who always lets me changes things on a whim like ten minutes before posting...p.s. I do not own the hunger games

Jeb walked home. His mind preoccupied with what Darius told him about the Capitol and what he should do to protect Delly. He rubbed his face. She reminded him of his little girl, the one he lost to the Games. Delly was sweet, gentle, but she had gumption.

"Hey Jeb," Gale Hawthorne called out.

"Hello, Gale."

"My sister Posy wants to say something to you."

Posy was a shy cherub, diminutive in size with pink cheeks and lots of dark hair. She whispered, "Thank you for my boots."

Jeb smiled kindly at her. "Well, a lovely young fairy princess named Delilah magically fixed them for you."

Her little grey eyes went wide on her face. "Really!"

"Yes, one day maybe your brother can bring you to meet her."

"Gale can I meet the princess. I promise I'll be good!"

Gale kneeled down on one leg, "Maybe one day. Tell you what, why don't you draw her a picture and you can give to Jeb."

"Okay," Posey shyly nodded. She clung to her brother's leg.

"So Delly did really fix them."

"Yes." Jeb wondered why this kid was giving him the third degree as if he was some sort of Peacekeeper.

"She must be a handful to deal with. I'm sure she's constantly looking down on your clients and disregarding your orders."

"Look, kid, I don't think you know a damned thing about Delly. She's a sweet girl, a talented, hard-working kid. To you, she might look like any other pasty-faced Merchant, but I'm telling you she's one of the good ones. If you must know, Delly is a talented cobbler. She came to me last spring. She needed the work. She's hardworking and she has never, not once, treated anyone poorly."

Gale blinked.

As they spoke, a squad of Peacekeepers walked through the street. It was a rare sighting, the Peacekeepers never walked through the Seam. They drove by, but, never walked through it. Jeb recalled his conversation with Darius. He had a lot of decisions to make.

The Peacekeepers continued patrolling the Seam and kept on walking toward town. Darius stood at the edge of town with the Mayor. The squad passed by him. Darius nodded to the few guys he knew. They weren't happy to be called out to such a small district. They normally worked in the districts where there were greater disturbances. Like Johanna Mason's districts, when the lumberjacks drank, they were a force to be reckoned with.

His friends told him winter had come early in the elevated districts. Darius didn't understand what they meant. He wanted to get into the War room in the Mayor's house. It's where all of the real Capitol news came in. He hoped his informant could help him with it.

Darius saw Peeta Mellark and momentarily grinned. He'd seen Katniss shimmy down that boy's window early this morning. For years she'd been sneaking into his window and the youngest Mellark had never known. He was pining away for her and she'd been right there under his nose.

Seeing Gale this morning was too much of an opportunity. He just hoped Gale would figure out Katniss was into blond bakers.

***K*P*K*P*K***

Peeta sat on his bed carefully contemplating everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours. It was a hard task to stay focused on his family this evening.

Dinner was a success. His brother's wife gobbled up the fresh fruit tarts he had made from the berries Katniss had picked for him. They had ended everything by six and they had even managed to play one game of charades. It was a good evening. Even his mother, the witch, behaved.

His parents were already asleep. His brother Rye was upstairs in his room, but who knew what he was up to. It was early, only eight thirty. Most families were still up, but not a baker's family. They had to get up earlier than any other Merchant. The ovens needed to be heated, and bread needed to be made. It was a vicious cycle, but they were the only family to do it.

He did not mind the life, even though he knew he would never inherit the bakery. That would fall to his brother Rye. That was unless, of course, Rye married into a family like their older brother did.

The chances of his fast and loose brother behaving himself and marrying into a family that had nothing but a girl were small. The irony was, Rye loved the craft but his heart was not it. Peeta was the only one of all the brothers who loved the bakery and the art they made.

The leaves shifted as the wind blew gently through his open window.

Peeta looked out the window toward the tree. He should have been fast asleep. Now that he was alone in his room his brain went over every detail that had to do with Katniss. Her mental image surfaced in his brain.

Speaking to her this afternoon took lots of guts on his part. He normally would not have had the courage to approach her had she not fallen out of the tree the night before. Ever since he was a kid he had admired her from afar. As a little boy, he was fascinated with her voice, her braids, and her eyes. Her eyes were the color of the little silver pearls his family used on the cakes. They stood out against her olive skin tone and dark hair.

Peeta had been smitten from an early age.

Whenever she and her father had come to the bakery he had made sure his hands were clean. For some reason, it was important to him to show her he was not a dirty little boy. He didn't want to be like his brothers who always had dirt on their hands. He childishly thought she wouldn't want to be his friend if she thought he was like them. His cheeks blossomed, out of pure embarrassment, thinking of how immature his thoughts had been.

Turning to the side he slipped his hand underneath the mattress and pulled out a piece of paper.

Peeta lay on to his back clutching his drawing. He flattened it against his chest. He folded his free arm under his head, thinking of how things had changed. A smile erupted on his face as he recalled the cookies.

He hoped she understood the message on the last cookie. It was imperative Katniss understood he'd always be there for her. He brought up the paper to look at it. He often contemplated her image for hours. It was a drawing he made of her smiling. He remembered the moment.

It was at the end of the last Reaping. She was so relieved she wasn't picked at the end of the ceremony she smiled brilliantly right before her sister Prim came running up to her and hugged her. Her smiles were rare and seeing her so happy caused his world to freeze. He tried memorized the look on her face. He ran straight home and quickly sketched what she looked like in the faded red dress. Later on, he changed the color of the dress to his favorite color, orange.

He gently touched the image and began to speak to it.

"I wonder if you know how pretty you are."

"I wonder if you and Gale are a couple, boyfriend and girlfriend. I see you guys together all of the time." He swallowed, feeling fearful and it showed in the timber of his voice. "I always wonder. I hope that it's not true, but it sure looks like it. I know you must think last night was a colossal mistake. To me, it was the best night of my life." He shrugged slightly. "I can't help feeling this way."

Peeta shook his head, looking at the picture he had drawn.

Despite her having shared a bed with him, Peeta was insecure about Katniss. The facts were concrete. Last night he persuaded her to stay for fear of the Peacekeepers. She had a nightmare and asked him to stay in the bed with her because she was scared. In the morning, she acted like she did not want any part of him.

His only mystery was why she came to give him the hangover medicine? How did she find out he was going to that party? Was she also following him?

Peeta thought about this but came up with no answer. The information he knew remained the same. This afternoon she proved it when she came here. There was only one boy she was constantly around, from the time she was twelve until the present, and that was her fellow Seam resident.

Gale Hawthorne

Gale was tall and lean with dark handsome features every girl seemed to go gaga over. Despite him having a reputation for taking the girls to the Slag Heap, Katniss was the one girl everyone agreed he would marry. They had so many things in common, they were hunters, the woods were their favorite place, they were providers, and they were thick as thieves.

Feeling pitiable to want a girl who could clearly never want him, he shoved the paper under his pillow and sat up slapping his forehead with the palm of his hand.

"Jeez, Peeta you're so pathetic. Speaking to a drawing," he murmured to himself angrily. None of his friends ever had this problem.

There were tons of girls who he could be with. Girls who would kiss him and do practically anything with him, but Peeta did not want any of those girls. He wanted Katniss. It was hard being in a one-sided relationship.

He buried his nose in his pillow.

It still smelled like her.

Like the laundry that hung outside, a fresh scent with the mix of wildflowers and the warm air. Peeta was glad he had a room to himself. He was glad he did not have to contend with Rye over every single act. His brother meant well, but Rye did not understand that he was not into partying, drinking or girl chasing. Perhaps if he had no knowledge of Katniss he would end up like Rye or like his older brother, but the fact was Katniss was buried deep in his heart.

Peeta was a noble boy, but he did not want to end up broken hearted like his dad. He didn't want to settle for someone. He wanted Katniss or no one at all. He would rather remain single than go into a loveless marriage.

Standing up, he marched to his table. He grabbed his notebook and decided he was going to make a plan. He was going to get her to be his friend.

"Step one, ask her to be friends," Peeta said as he wrote. "Step two find out what she likes."

He tapped his pencil against his notebook. He couldn't find anything besides two steps. Sulking, he put his pencil down and imagined speaking to her once again. As he lay down he saw the squirrel sitting on the branch. It was looking in his window.

Peeta looked at the squirrel and said. "Let's make a deal. You help me win Katniss and I'll give you food during the winter."

The squirrel cocked his head to the side then it wiggled its nose as if considering Peeta's words. It then turned its back and scampered away. Peeta shrugged.

"It was worth a try."

He sat on his bed and began to sketch a small picture for Katniss. He decided he would begin by leaving her small gifts, harmless tokens really, to make her day brighter. Though as he sketched he thought to himself he would need an accomplice. He thought of the people Katniss knew and there was only one person he knew who could help him.

He went to sleep confidently after finishing his sketch.

Less than twenty minutes later the whole family was awake.

"OPEN UP!"

The noise of their rattling door awoke Peeta. He sat up with a start. Without thought, he opened the door to his room.

"OPEN UP!" He could hear the shout through his open window.

The shouting of the Peacekeepers woke up the rest of his family. Peeta ran downstairs right behind his father, his mother right behind him. There was a shuffle in the house as they reached the back door.

"OPEN UP!" The command was shouted and their door shook.

Mr. Mellark opened the backdoor.

A uniformed Peacekeeper flashed a bright light in his father's face. He was as tall as his father, but, did not have the girth his dad had in his chest. Peeta could not see the man's face as it was hidden behind the black helmet's darkened visor.

The Peacekeeper moved his flashlight from his father, to his face then to his mother's face. His mother's hands clutched at his arms. She shook with fear as she hid partially behind him.

The man shined his light in the space where they kept their ovens. Satisfied that the room was clear, he said, "Mellark residence."

"Yes, this is the Mellark…"

"Search the premises." The Peacekeeper rudely cut off his father.

A group of about nine Peacekeepers rushed in through the door, pushing his father to the side. Peeta caught his dad. The men divided, four rushed upstairs, the other five split up searching the back room and the storefront. Their white uniforms were a stark reminder of the control of President Snow. They did not bother turning on the lights, their flashlights were bright enough.

Peeta remained quiet as he watched the men in white invade his home.

His mother who was usually harsh and mean-spirited wept softly. Peeta held his mother, soothingly rubbing her arms in the process. Not even she deserved this treatment. He was scared, but he did not let it show on his face. Instead, he remained calm.

"Is this one of your sons?"

Rye was shoved down the stairs; his blond hair was messed up. He was a heavy sleeper, not much woke Rye up. But the men holding the guns did not care as they poked his brother in the back.

His brother swallowed as he looked at him. Peeta could see Rye wanted to act out. His fist were clenched and his body took that familiar wrestling attack pose. Peeta closed his eyes to indicate to him to stand down. His brother's shoulders slumped forward as the Peacekeeper followed closely behind.

"Yes, that is our middle child." Mr. Mellark answered, as Rye was pushed to stand by their father.

The man barked, "Your name?"

"Rye Mellark."

The Peacekeeper came close to Rye and shined the light directly into his eyes. Rye flinched. He nodded and one of the officers came forward with a small handheld machine.

"Breathe into the module."

Rye did as he was told. The device beeped.

The officer read the findings. "He's sober, sir."

The man asked as he shined a light in Peeta's face. "He yours as well?"

"That's our youngest."

The man looked at Peeta but did not say or do anything more. Peeta was ready to be examined. The man dismissed him, moving on to face his father again. His dad was ready to have the light flashed in his face.

"Where is the other Mellark?"

"Our oldest son does not live here anymore. He lives with his wife, in an apartment above…."

The static noise of the communicator crackled. "Unit A."

"Unit A, here. Unit B, is the other one accounted for?"

"Copy that. One Mellark, wife and fetus, present."

Peeta heard the way they referred to the baby. He schooled his features although it caused him to become irate. That was his niece or nephew. Yet they were counting them, including the unborn child, as if they were possessions of the Capitol, like the way a pot or a baking sheet could be owned. They were people, citizens of Panem, but he felt they were sending a clear message, we own you.

The Peacekeeper did not take his eyes away from any one of the family members standing. The men began to filter back into the back room. Their guns were pointed at them. It almost felt like they were going to be executed. Peeta stood taller, if he was going to die, he was going to die on his own terms.

"Unit B, Anything to account for?"

The reply was instant. "They are Government Certified."

"Good. Retire back to the garrison."

"Copy that."

The man turned and faced his followers. They were reflected in the shiny material of his visor. "Do you have your paperwork for the tree outside?"

His father nodded. "It's hanging on the wall near the oven."

The man walked to the wall and shined his light on it. "Eugene Mellark," he turned his face onto his father's face. He checked his computer. "Eugene Mellark registration, you are the fifth Eugene Mellark."

"Yes sir," Mr. Mellark answered.

"Proudly serving the Capitol," the man shined in the face of Mrs. Mellark.

Timidly she nodded.

"Did we find anything?"

A Peacekeeper stepped forward. "Sir, all merchandise is Capitol Certified."

The man nodded slowly.

They stood there waiting for their fate. Not knowing what the men were going to do to them took a toll. Peeta understood this to be a psychological game. This was a tactic he and his teammates used all of the time whenever there was a wrestling meet. The older guys intimidated the newer guys to put them at a disadvantage.

The Peacekeeper tilted his head slightly. "Move out."

The men filed out in a single line.

Their door was left open.

They stood there frozen, waiting for the coast to be clear. After a few moments, his father stepped forward and closed the door.

"What do you think that was about?" Rye asked.

His father shook his head. "They were no doubt looking for anything illegal."

"They were searching for the meat from those Seam trash." His mother hissed, stepping up to his father. "I've told you buying that meat would get us in trouble."

His father slammed his hand on the door. His voice was forceful, "Boudicca! You will refrain from speaking poorly of those kids. They have a right to feed their families and we have a right to feed ours. Besides, I will not stop trading for fresh meat from them, because you and I both know how expensive it is to purchase meat in town. Without her or that boy trading with us, we wouldn't be able to survive."

His mother stayed quiet. She knew he was right.

What his father said was the truth. They existed off of scraps of leftover bread. They had a small garden with herbs and vegetables that the Capitol allowed them to keep for a small quarterly sum. Yet between Peeta and Rye, that food did not feed their shrunken family of four. The only fresh meat that they ate was what they traded with Katniss and Gale for.

"I hate it when you're right," his mother grumbled.

Peeta breathed easily.

"Now, let us go upstairs and get some rest. We have to be up early anyway."

Peeta watched his father head upstairs.

They all followed him to the family rooms. The Peacekeepers did not appear to have touched anything. It was eerie to know they had looked at and handled their belongings. Peeta made a beeline to his room, as did Rye.

Their mother opened the door to the room she shared with her husband and stepped inside quietly. Their dad paused at the door. "Rye, I'd cut down on the drinking, son. It looks as if you're on their short list."

Rye said nothing, but he nodded then they each entered their own room.

Peeta walked into his room and closed the door. He slumped up against it, relieved it was over. It was then he noted his picture of Katniss was not under the pillow where he had left it. It was on the center of his bed. He swiftly walked over to it and picked it up and promised himself that the Peacekeepers would never lay a hand on her.

Folding the picture, he thought about how it would feel if he had never made a move toward Katniss. His blue eyes became resolved. He was going to go through with his plan. He gently slipped the picture back in-between the mattresses, before lying down to go to sleep.