Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too.
AN: This is a plot bunny that got a little out of control. Hopefully it's not too hard to follow and makes sense, and hopefully Gale doesn't come off as too much of a jerk. There's a reason for everything and if I get time and have the motivation, I might write a follow up to this and explain a few things from his pov. Anyways, I had to get this out of my head if I wanted to have any hope of continuing 'to jump or fall'.
Kaleidoscope
Madge shifts on her stool and adjust her sweater.
Her clothes are getting too tight, riding up under the layers, and she's constantly having to right them without drawing the attention of her coworkers.
She's too warm in her thick, woolly sweater, but she keeps it on, insists on wearing it and her frumpy skirts. It's the only way to hide the extra weight she's put on.
Never, not in her wildest dreams would she have imagined herself pregnant and alone when she'd taken up the position almost two years before.
When she'd graduated school she'd set out to find a job, telling her father she wanted to make her own way as best she was allowed.
"I can get you a job at the Justice Building," he'd told her, looking hopeful. "You can be a secretary."
The position held no appeal for her though. It was what was expected of her and it reeked of nepotism.
"No, I...I saw a position at the clerical office for the mines," she'd mentioned instead, hoping it sounded casual. "I was thinking of putting in an application there."
It was the last place anyone would expect her to work, not privileged or pampered at all. That's what she told herself the reason was anyways.
Though he hadn't looked thrilled, he hadn't stopped her, just cautioned that it was a thankless place to work and particularly rough.
Mr. Abernathy had been a little more derisive.
"That's no place for a lady," he'd grumbled as he rifled through their icebox, looking for leftovers.
"They only employ women," Madge pointed out.
"Not all women are ladies," he countered with a huff.
Despite his irritation, Madge had applied and gotten the position, though she doubted the manager of the offices would turn down anyone with the name 'Undersee'.
It had been anything but a pleasant start.
The other women gave her a chilly reception and bestowed upon her the least desirable job with the least helpful coworkers: funds distribution.
Every week she and three other women, all of varying disagreeability and who spent most of their time ignoring Madge's existence, went through time cards and tallied up work hours, and on Friday at five handed out the paychecks.
Of all her tasks, the Friday distribution was the only one she even remotely enjoyed.
She slowly built a rapport with the men, and after a few months, her tiny window with its little door for the check to push out of was the busiest.
"Well of course it is," Mr. Abernathy grumbled as he walked her home, when she'd mentioned it. "Those other women are trolls. Why would they go to them when they got a looker like you?"
Madge had rolled her eyes at his assessment of the situation, but secretly thought he might have a point. On more than one occasion she'd been given flowers, and several of the men stood talking to her long after their check was dispersed.
And then there was Gale Hawthorne.
He was no more friendly with her when picking up his pay than he was on Sunday's when he sold her strawberries on her back porch, less even.
His eyes, when they weren't scowling at her, cataloging everything about her he found offensive, were focused on the ground, his friends and fellow miners, anywhere but on her. He never spoke, not even a grunt of possible thanks, just took his check and stalked off.
For a while Madge suspected he only stood in her line at the insistence of his friend Thom, who never failed to flirt with her and offer to walk her home, but when Thom stayed home sick with the flu one week, Gale still waited in her line.
Madge wasn't sure if it was nothing more than habit or actually meant something.
Part of her had tried to shrug it off, it was a silly schoolgirl crush that she should've outgrown by now. She hadn't though, and that wishful half constantly tried to build meaning from every tiny interaction.
True, Gale is handsome, that's the simple part of it, but there's so much more.
He's brave, going into the woods despite the possible punishments to keep his family fed. His siblings adore him, and he dotes on them. Madge was shocked at how gentle he was with his baby sister, during her time spent with his family during the Seventy-Fourth Games, compared with how gruff he so often is with her.
There's also an air of danger hanging around him, and Madge wishes it weren't so attractive to her.
It is though.
It wasn't until one evening, when she'd been waiting in the blustery fall wind, that she'd ever thought he considered her another human being.
Dry leaves had swirled around her ankles as she'd pulled her coat closer around her, ducking her face into the collar, nose wrinkling at the smell of dust and smoke around her.
Mr. Abernathy was late, something that happened occasionally. He'd drink himself into a stupor and lose track of time. He'd turn up, late, but eventually.
Considering going back into the tiny office building, Madge had only glanced down for half a second to shield her eyes from the wind when heavy boots had appeared in front of her, covered in muck and coal dust.
He'd glared down at her, his gray eyes cutting right through her, causing her already wind burnt cheeks to sting even warmer.
"What're you doing standing out here?"
It was the first full sentence he'd said to her since Katniss' Reaping, a full two years prior.
They'd become something like friends during that time, but after Katniss had come home, Peeta at her side, still playing the part of a star-crossed lover, he'd distanced himself from Madge.
Madge hadn't been sure what he'd expected. Maybe for him and Katniss to pick up where they left off, wherever that was. Maybe they had, for all Madge knew. Peeta and Katniss had seemed to cut off from one another during the few months between their Games and the Victory Tour, and she'd suspected that had something to do with Gale.
After the Tour though, after Peeta had proposed, Katniss had seemingly cut Gale off and focused solely on Peeta.
The break had filled Madge with a strange sense of relief.
Katniss had Peeta, why should she get to have two boys vying for her attention, adoring her, when Madge barely got notice from even one? It was unfair.
Her jealousy had only caused her more distress, and by the time the next Games rolled around, Madge had stopped visiting either of the newest Victors. She didn't deserve their friendship. Not when she had such unfriendly thoughts in her head.
Gale had continued to come on Sunday's, but the transactions were almost wordless. Money and product exchanged hands and ways were parted with little to no speaking, and Madge never sensed he wanted to change that.
Uncertain why he wanted to know, Madge tried to keep the shiver from her voice.
"Waiting."
"For Abernathy?"
Madge barely had the chance to wonder at how he knew just who she was waiting on when he'd huffed.
"He's a damn drunk, unreliable."
"He always shows up."
Gale made a derisive noise. "You'll be half frozen before he does."
Opening her mouth to argue, Madge was cut off by Gale taking her by the upper arm and trying to steer her away from the shelter of the building.
"What're you doing?" She'd asked, jerking away and giving him a reproachful look.
"Taking you home." He'd stuffed his hands in his pockets and glared. "You shouldn't be hanging out here by yourself. There are a lot of jerks that'd hurt you, especially if they recognize you."
Madge started to ask if he was one of those jerks, he was loitering after hours after all, and he certainly had the right demeanor, but hadn't gotten the chance. Mr. Abernathy had finally arrived, looking bleary eyed and rumpled.
"Sorry, sweetheart, overslept." He'd glared daggers at Gale. "Who're you? What're you doing with Madge?"
Gale hadn't been intimidated, just crossed his arms over his chest and stared down his nose at Mr. Abernathy.
"I'm the guy taking her home since you'd rather be climbing out of a liquor bottle."
Mr. Abernathy had just rolled his eyes, unimpressed.
"I'm a few minutes late, jackass."
"That's a few minutes too long," Gale snapped.
Reaching out, Mr. Abernathy wrapped an arm around her shoulder and steered her away.
"I'll keep that in mind."
Gale's teeth had seemed to crack as he ground them and watched Madge be pulled away.
After that, Madge had been hyper-aware of her surroundings while waiting, noticing a tall figure lurking in the shadows, either waiting for a chance to swoop in, or making sure no one did, she wasn't sure.
He didn't talk to her again for another month.
It was drizzling, cold and gray, miserable outside.
All the other women had gone home early, leaving Madge with the undesirable job of filing pay stubs.
She'd been almost done when the flimsy door had swung open and Gale had blown in with midwinter debris, damp grass and mud.
Little flecks of rain clung to his hair, dripping off and rolling down his face and onto his coat and mining uniform until he wiped them away and glared around until he spotted the lone occupant of the building.
His feet, surprisingly soundless in his heavy boots, strode across the room, stopping just short of her tiny desk.
For a few minutes he searched his pockets, rummaging until he found what he was looking for.
Pulling it out, he'd tossed the crumpled paper onto her desk.
"They shorted me two hours."
Giving him a slight, frightened smile, Madge had carefully plucked up the paper and smoothed it out in front of her.
It had been the paycheck from the week prior, already cashed by the looks of it, the telling red stamp of the bank with the Capitol's seal blazing bright against the pale gray of the check.
In cramped, almost illegible writing, one of the girls that actually filled out the checks after Madge's group tallies the hours, had scribbled in the pay amount. Just as he'd said though, it was two hours short.
Frowning at it, Madge had carefully sat it down before going to one of the filing cabinets and finding the proper form.
It was a lot of pointless red tape for a simple clerical error, the girl had probably been distracted or tired, and it seemed a lot of work to Madge, but two hours in the mines needed compensation.
She'd held the form out to him.
"Just, um, fill this out, and hopefully they'll back pay you on your next check."
Which was being hopeful almost to the point of stupidity. The only other pay discrepancy Madge had heard of had taken an entire six months to straighten out. Maybe it was more complicated.
Wordlessly, Gale took the paper and stared at it before grunting, "Got a pen?"
Startled, Madge had fumbled with the desk drawer and pulled out one of the dozens of identical pens and handed it to him.
Hunching over the desk, Gale spent nearly ten minutes scribbling on the form before he unfolded himself and straightened up, handed her the half illegible paper.
Madge stared at it for a minute, certain no one would be able to make out Gale's untidy scroll and deciding to rewrite it for him once he left, before forcing a smile.
"I'll get it filed for you."
He didn't smile back, just stared blankly at her, as if she'd spoken some unknown language.
A few strange moments stretched between them, filling the room uncomfortably, before Gale finally spoke.
"Why are you here?"
Madge frowned. "I work here."
His expression eases, almost slipping into something like amusement, but he snuffs it out and settles on annoyed. "I mean why do you work here? You shoulda got a job at the Justice Building. Nice and clean."
Bristling, Madge felt her hand tighten around the paper, crumpling it slightly.
"I could've. But I didn't want a job there."
His mouth turned up, not in a genuine smile, but more of a smirk, cold and hateful.
"Wanted to get down and dirty with the peasants, huh?"
Unsure why he'd suddenly decided to pick a fight, they'd gotten along in silent amicability for so long it seemed a shame to ruin it, Madge just sighed and turned away. She didn't want to argue with him.
"I'll file this for you."
She'd gone back to work, filing stubs, but could still feel his eyes on her.
Finally, when it was clear he wasn't going to give it up and leave, Madge sighed and turned back to him.
"What, Gale? What do you want?"
If he was looking for some profound answer he was in for a true disappointment.
His jaw tensed and his hand, filthy and blackened, jagged fingernails from days in the mines, jumped to his neck, massaging it anxiously.
"I just want to know why the Mayor's little princess is getting her shoes dirty at the mines."
Without thinking, Madge snapped, "Why do you always get in my line?"
She hadn't meant it like that, at least she hadn't thought she had. It was only meant to throw him off, annoy him a little, but she felt her chest tighten the minute the words left her mouth.
It was a little more on the nose than she'd been aiming for, a little more telling.
She hadn't taken the job just to be near him. It was a nice perk, that much was true, and she missed seeing him everyday like she had in school, but that was hardly the driving reason behind her choice.
That's what she told herself anyways.
Face already blazing, Madge hurriedly tried to cover her blunder.
"I mean-are you just looking for a reason to hate me? What've I ever done to you?"
He didn't say anything for a minute, just scratched at his stubble on his cheek for a minute and thought before shaking his head.
"I'm not looking for a reason to hate you, Undersee," he finally said.
Madge waited for him to say 'existing is enough for that' but it doesn't come.
Instead, his gray eyes, lock with hers and the ghost of a smile flicks on his lips.
"I'm just trying to understand you."
His eyes were too intense, the look too burning, and Madge's cheeks warmed more under it.
"Nothing to understand," she mumbled, turning to go back to her work, hoping he'd leave and spare her more prodding.
Though she didn't hear him move, she suddenly felt warmth at her back, and when she turned her nose bumped into Gale's dirty mining uniform, grazing the faded red stitched embroidery of his name.
"Why come work for the mines?" He asks again, his arms coming up, both hands resting on the top of the filing cabinet, trapping Madge between it and him. He smirked. "Looking to slum it?"
Shoving him, Madge stormed away as he laughed, deep and warm, far too attractive for someone so crude.
He was only trying to rile her up, maybe he was bored or maybe he'd just been waiting for the right moment, but for the first time in the months since Madge started working, he looked happy.
It suited him, being cheerful, and Madge enjoyed the view, even if it was at her expense.
"If I were, it wouldn't be with you," she finally grumbled, grabbing up another stack of stubs and going to a far cabinet.
He dropped into one of the rickety chairs in front of the desk and watched her, then chuckled.
"It would be."
Turning to glare at him, Madge started to counter him, but couldn't form the words. It would be a lie and it stuck in her throat.
Huffing, she went back to her work, ignoring him.
"You volunteer for this?" He asked, gesturing toward the cabinets. "Sanderson's wife said it's the worst job."
Madge answered with a roll of her eyes he couldn't see.
Minutes ticked by and neither one spoke, instead filling the room with a strange quiet that wasn't really unpleasant but still seemed suffocating.
Finally, Gale stood, straightened his threadbare coat, and grunted a goodbye.
When he came by her house that Sunday, nothing changed in their interaction, and Madge was both annoyed and relieved.
She didn't have to traverse new rules of an evolving relationship with Gale Hawthorne, but part of her desperately had wanted too.
The next week came and went, Madge noticed Gale's check hadn't been corrected, and she guessed he'd harass whoever got stuck filing that week about it. When she asked Georgia about it Monday though, she said he hadn't come by.
"I wish he had." She'd sighed. "He's a catch."
The woman that worked the next Friday, old Faith, said the same.
No Gale.
When Friday rolled around once more, Madge volunteered to file. Part of her wanted to put to rest the nagging suspicion in her head that Gale was waiting for her to be there to find out about his pay, and part of her wanted to confirm it. An hour ticked by, then two, then finally at the end of the third and final hour, the door creaked open.
Gale, dry this time, stepped in, shaking his shaggy hair and squinting around the room until he spotted Madge off in a corner, ankle deep in dropped stubs. He'd startled her when he'd blown in.
"I didn't get my pay."
Madge frowned. "And you waited two weeks to come tell us?"
His cheeks deepened in color, though that could've been from the cold outside, and he scowled.
"I've been busy."
That might've been the truth, but Madge hoped it wasn't.
Carefully stepping out of her nest of stubs, she went to the desk and shuffled through the forms until she found his.
"It's under review." She sighed. "It might take a while. That means you'll get paid, probably, but they're going to look at all your time cards for the last year."
He looked anything but surprised.
"Great."
Biting her lip, Madge tried to think of a bright side for him. There really wasn't one.
He'd flopped down in the little chair, half too small and groaning under his weight, and looked at her.
"Don't suppose you could hurry it up, being the Mayor's kid and all?"
A rock formed in Madge's stomach. Maybe that was why he'd waited for her to be there.
"No," she coolly answered. "You should go."
Going back to her pile she roughly began stacking them, furious with herself for ever hoping he'd want to come just to see her.
Suddenly, he dropped down beside her, clumsily gathering papers of his own and offering them to her.
"It was a joke, Undersee, don't get so pissed about it."
"You wouldn't think it was so funny if I made a crack about your life," she snapped, hoping the quiver didn't come through in her voice.
"My life's a hell of a lot less funny than yours," he counters, a little edge to his voice.
Madge keeps her head down, felt tears start to prickle in her eyes and tried to blink them away.
They trickled down her cheeks instead and she quickly attempted to wipe them on her shoulder, but Gale's rough fingers had already shot out and smeared them on her face.
"It's nothing to cry about."
He sounded a little distressed, though Madge imagined he'd made plenty of girls cry in his life. She was just one more.
Swatting at her face, Madge angled away, refusing to let him see her upset.
The stubs rustled, and when she glanced over, she saw Gale picking a few more up and stacking them, his eyes focused on the ground.
Finally, Madge felt a warm breath graze her knees, a long sigh from Gale.
"Look," he muttered, "I'm sorry. Two hours might not seem like much to you, but it's food on the table for me."
Madge nodded. "I understand."
And she did, even if she'd never gone to bed hungry, she knew most of the district did, and it hurt her.
Slowly, her tears dried and they stacked the stubs, and when they finished Gale offered her a hand, pulling her to her feet.
He stayed until she'd finished her filing, offering to walk her home, which she'd regretfully declined.
"Abernathy walking you?"
She nodded.
"He got a crush on you or something?"
Madge snorted. "I doubt that."
He'd headed out after that, though Madge felt the same familiar burning on her skin, his eyes on her, when she left a few minutes later, meeting up with Mr. Abernathy at the bottom of the steps out the office.
After that, Madge volunteered every Friday, and Gale came to see her, waiting with her until her filing was done without fail.
They didn't talk about the mines or Madge's job, except for when the two hours pay finally came through, instead focusing on his siblings, Madge's garden and nonexistent love life, the occasional dirty joke Gale had heard at the Hob.
Madge heard rumors about Gale's dating. A different girl every weekend, each one certain they'd be the one to break his one date streak. None of them ever did.
He took them to the Hob or one of the rowdy parties his friends threw, then up to the slag heap.
That was the pattern, at least as far as Madge could see.
None of the girls complained, at least not that Madge heard. In fact, they all sounded to be quite happy to be notches on his bedpost.
She'd always thought the rumors during school were lies, cooked up by him and his friends to bolster his ego, once his current exploits reached her though she began to doubt that.
No one ever mentioned his Friday nights alone with the Mayor's daughter. It was below their concern, or Gale kept it secret.
The later was more likely. She was a secret, and that made her feel sullied somehow, unworthy of recognition.
Winter melted into a soggy spring, followed by a sultry summer that killed the lone air conditioning unit in the office in mid August.
That's what had caused all the trouble, Madge thinks miserably, pulling her shirt down again, back over her growing belly.
She'd been overheated and irritable, and when Gale had made one of his frequent jabs about dating Mr. Abernathy she'd lost her reserves about prodding him on his dating habits.
"If I were at least I'd be consistent," she snapped, wiping sweat from her face and huffing. "How many girls have you been out with? You're going to run out soon."
Stomping off, she'd gone to the tiny closet to replace a folder.
When she turned to leave though, Gale blocked the exit.
He was far too big for the space, the top of his shaggy dark head hitting the lonely naked bulb illuminating the area, his shoulders almost filling the narrow space between the two rows of filing cabinets.
"I won't run out," he says, his voice a low growl. He ducked a little, leaned in close enough for Madge to count the stubble on his jaw, the tiny beads of perspiration formed in his hair. "I'll still have you, right?"
Madge's heart stuttered in her chest and her breath caught as her mind tried to make sense of what he'd said.
Stepping forward, her eyes stayed trained on his. "Maybe."
He'd grinned, just a fraction, leaned in half an inch more. "I will. You know it, Madge."
It was the first time he'd said her name, not called her Undersee, and the rumble of his voice, the way his mouth formed the sounds, sent electricity through her, made her insides turn.
She knew it was a mistake the minute she lurched forward, capturing his lips with hers, known she was jumping of the precipice of something dangerous and unknown, but she hadn't cared. All that mattered was Gale's hair twisted in her fingers and his hands squeezing her body, pressing her closer and closer to his.
Gale was all muscle, rippled planes and olive skin, and her hands began fumbling with the buttons of his uniform without thought. He wanted her and she wanted him, they were adults, why shouldn't they do what their bodies were so clearly eager to do?
They ended up in a tangle against the wall in the tiny closet, Gale's hands finding their way under her summery skirt and Madge making no effort to stop him.
It wasn't how she'd expected her first time to be, not at all.
There was no gentleness, no sweetness, just sweat and calloused hands, teeth nipping at her skin. No cuddling, no loving words, just animal instinct and, the minute it was over, the hollow sense of regret.
He helped her up after, handed the discarded undergarments back to her after fishing them out from behind the cabinets, then mumbled something about needing to get home.
Then he was gone, and Madge was left feeling gutted and filthy.
She had no right to those feelings, she'd thought bitterly. It had been her choice, even if it was a hasty one made under the influence of a handsome face and hormones.
Mr. Abernathy noticed her mood right away, questioning her the entire way home and then bringing it up to her father the minute the door opened.
"Someone did something to her," he told her father, as Madge snuck up the stairs. "She's acting too quiet."
"Are you sick, love?" Her mother asked her, floating in through Madge's bedroom door, her mouth turned down. "Haymitch is worried."
"I'm fine," she muttered. "Just tired."
Ignoring the curious expression on her mother's face, Madge rushed into the bathroom and turned on the water.
Looking in the mirror, she tried to see if she looked any different.
There was nothing though, she looked just as she had when she left that morning, albeit maybe a little more rumpled.
Her cheeks burned at the memory of how her clothes and hair got in that state.
Gale's calloused hands, the coarseness of his hair, the way his chapped lips grazed her body, all the little details of the moment flooded her mind and she closed her eyes.
It might've been a mistake, but it had been a glorious one.
Cold shame hit her, freezing the sweat on her skin.
She was no different than all those other girls, happy just to have been noticed, worthy even for a moment for the attention of Gale Hawthorne.
Tears began sliding down her cheeks, mixing with the sweat and dripping down the front of her top.
She was no better than the other girls. Maybe he'd spent a little more time with her, but the end result was the same.
The shower had done nothing to make her feel less used.
When Sunday came, she'd made up her mind to confront him, tell him she wouldn't be his warm body when he ran out of girls in the Seam.
But he never came.
She expected to be gossiped about the Monday after, surely he'd told all his friends, and his latest conquest would undoubtedly be delicious fodder for the women.
No one said a word though.
As the week dragged by, and it became clear he hadn't shouted his latest victory from the rooftops, her resolve wavered, and by Friday she simply wanted to talk to him.
He wasn't in her line though, and as the evening rolled by, he didn't show up for his weekly visit.
The next week was the same, and the next, until finally Madge accepted that maybe Gale had gotten exactly what he wanted from their interactions.
Even if he hadn't bragged about it.
By the time she'd given up on him, her more pressing problem had come to her attention.
The first missed cycle barely registered with her, she'd been too wrapped up in embarrassment to notice, then the second slipped by as easily. By the third, she'd begun to feel run down, more than just normal exhaustion, and that's when she finally remembered.
By her own estimations she's almost six months along now.
She's been lucky, the bulky winter clothing has helped her keep her secret, but the spring will come soon, and with it warmer weather. It'll be impossible to convince people she's freezing once the southern breezes start blowing in.
It'll be even harder to explain the sudden appearance of a baby.
Still, she hasn't been able to confide in her parents. She already knows what fate awaits her.
There'll be no choice, Mayor's daughter or not, she'll be shipped off to a home for unwed mothers in Nine or Ten. It's just how it is.
Once she'd realized just what kind of trouble her moment of passion had won her, she'd stopped volunteering for the Friday spot. Time was preciously short, and she didn't want to waste a moment with her parents. She'd even considered quitting her job, but had dismissed the idea. It would only draw more attention to her, possibly expose her sooner.
Despite the situation, she still holds onto the sliver of hope that something will save her.
Her dad will pluck the answer to her salvation from thin air or maybe Mr. Abernathy will pay someone off once she plucks up the courage to tell them.
They're both ludicrous dreams, but they're all she's got.
A few times she's considered telling Gale, but each time she's walked away more confused and frightened than before.
The first time, just after she'd discovered the pregnancy, she tried to catch him after work as he walked past the office.
He'd flat out ignored her, stomping past with his friend Thom at his side, jabbering about the girl Gale had last taken to the slag heap.
That had done little to bolster her confidence.
The second time had been a few weeks later, when Madge was good and furious about the whole situation.
That time, she'd found him behind the cleaning building, wrapped so tightly in the arms of a dark haired girl from the Seam, her hands pulling at his clothes, that he hadn't even noticed Madge coming around the corner.
After that her desire to tell him had waned, resulting in a long stretch of time before her finally attempt.
It was snowing, her feet were numb in the boots Mr. Abernathy had brought her from the Capitol despite the fluffy lining inside.
She'd ducked out right after the whistle had blown, determined to catch Gale when he got off the elevator.
The chains had made loud, grinding noises as they lifted the men up, mixing with their low voices, discussing things as they emerged.
Standing on her tip toes, Madge watched for Gale, and after a few minutes, he emerged.
He was filthy, sweat smeared with coal dust and dirt, but he was smiling, happy to be done for the day.
Madge's determination crumbled at his smile.
He had so much on his shoulders, had already raised children, supported a family. Maybe that was why he didn't want a real relationship, only quick moments of flesh and sweat, maybe he'd had enough of the family life.
The thought was enough to stop Madge cold. She didn't even consider telling him after that.
Besides, she finally decided she didn't want him to feel obligated to her. He'd made a mistake with her and he shouldn't feel like he had to make anything up to her. That's not the life she wants for her baby, or for Gale.
She might be furious with him for the mess he's helped her into, but she doesn't hate him. It isn't in her.
This is her problem. She'll deal with it herself.
She just wishes she knew how to.
The baby shifts inside her, putting pressure on her bladder, something it does more and more often lately, and Madge gets up to go to the bathroom.
"I'll be right back," she tells no one in particular, not that anyone cares.
She's only gone a few minutes, but it's all the time the other women need to pack up for the day and abandon her to her first Friday evening in months. Since she'd stopped volunteering in the hopes of seeing Gale and to spend more time with her parents.
Grumbling to herself about her sore feet and aching back, Madge snatches up the stubs from each of the desks and starts the boring business of filing.
Half an hour has passed when the door creaks open.
"I'm sorry Mr. Abernathy," she tells him over her shoulder. "I got elected to stay late tonight."
He doesn't answer with his customary muttered curses, so Madge turns to see what's stopped him.
She finds herself facing the newly embroidered word 'crew chief' on a filthy mining uniform when she does.
Gale seems taller in his freshly updated uniform, or maybe he's just standing straighter than usual.
"Got a promotion," he tells her, not sounding at all like he's spent months avoiding her after what happened in the closet.
All the frustration and panic, self doubt and loathing she's wrestled with bubble just under the surface of her skin as she gives him a cold, "Congratulations."
He nods, apparently missing the bite in her word.
"Yeah, so I thought maybe I could take you for dinner," he says in a rush, as if he isn't even sure he wants to say the words.
Madge stares at him, dumbfounded by what he's saying.
A full minute passes, fills the air with an uncomfortable silence before Madge fully comprehends what he's asking. Her voice shakes when she finds it.
"You spent months ignoring me, making me feel like a filthy fling after what happened, and now you want to go out for dinner!"
He actually steps back, looking a bit unsettled by her outburst.
"Undersee-"
"Don't," Madge cuts him off. "Don't 'Undersee' me. You don't get to-to screw me in a closet and walk away like it was nothing then just show up and expect me to be okay with a dinner as a thank you!"
His cheeks darken and he steps toward her, his eyes seeming to burning through her.
"I messed up, alright." He inches closer and Madge almost trips backward, but instead bumps into the wall as he closes the space between them. "I-it was intense, okay? A little too intense and I needed to figure things out, I'm sorry it had to hurt you too."
He's too close, a step closer and he'll feel the bump hidden under her layers, but she's frozen in his stare.
When he reaches out and starts to brushes a wayward strand of hair from her face, she comes out of the trance and bats his hand away.
"It's too little too late."
Pushing past him, she's already planning on walking out, ready to forget the filing for the week and deal with the consequences Monday. If she's fired who cares.
Before she can get away though, he catches her by the wrist, his eyebrows knitted together in thought.
"You've put on a little weight," he says after a beat.
Wrenching her wrist from his hand, Madge glares at him.
"Wow, you're such a sweet talker. No wonder you get so many women falling all over you."
He crosses his arms, his gaze unflinching as he takes in her frumpy, padded appearance.
Then his eyes widen.
"You're pregnant."
Madge doesn't respond, just turns and heads to her seat to snatch up her jacket and leave.
Gale won't have it though, catching her around the middle and holding her in place.
"You are pregnant!"
Madge elbows him in the side, temporarily freeing herself.
She spins and glares at him. "So what?"
"So what?" He stammers. "So what?"
"It isn't your problem-"
"It is my problem!"
"Says who?"
Gale closes his eyes, his rough hands scrubbing his face before rubbing up into his hair, tugging at it and standing it on end.
"Madge…" He sighs her name and she feels her insides squirm the same way they had that night.
His eyes, dark and blazing, seem to look right through to her soul as he tries to find his words. Finally, he takes a breath.
"I know it's mine, Madge."
She wants to argue, tell him he doesn't know so much about her, but she can't. The relief at not being the only one to know her secret is too much. She's wanted him to know from the beginning, even if it was just to toss her away, and now he does. There's nothing else to do.
Nodding, Madge laces her fingers together and rests them on her middle, willing herself not to cry.
After a moment, she feels him step closer, reach out and tip her chin up.
"So...how do we do this?"
Madge steadies her breathing and steps back, shrugging.
"Do what?" She asks. "I won't be able to hide this much longer, then it'll be off to the unwed mothers' home."
Gale frowns, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.
"Why?"
It's Madge's turn to be confused. Surely he can't be so blinded by his prejudice to think her status can protect her?
If anything, her father's position has made her more vulnerable. What better way to show the Capitol's power than by taking away the child of a man most perceive to be an extension of the government itself?
If the Mayor isn't safe, no one is.
Speaking slowly, and loudly, thinking maybe the machinery in the mines has damaged his hearing, Madge finally says, "Because I'm an unwed mother."
Or she will be soon.
Gale's frown deepens and he shakes his head.
"You won't be." His expression hardens, determined, unyielding. "Because we're going to get married."