Chapter 12 - Week 4


A smart man would have moved on.

A man who'd been burned by women like Peeta had would have definitely moved on.

Yet he still found himself sulking about the fact that Katniss had a boyfriend. Sulking so much, in fact, that he almost didn't hear her when she told him he'd lost six pounds at his next weigh in.

"Let me check that again, but it says six pounds."

"What?" he blinked, bringing himself back to the present. He was standing there, staring dumbly at Katniss as she waited for the digital scale he stood on to stop beeping and spit out a number.

"Six pounds," she confirmed, flashing that dazzling smile he so rarely saw.

He gave himself a little shake. "Six?"

"Six."

"Six," he muttered under his breath, as if to confirm it. He knew he sounded like an idiot, but he couldn't help it.

She gave him a playful little nudge to get off the scale, guiding him to the dreaded blue backdrop.

"You're sure?" he asked, still genuinely surprised.

"I'm not that bad at math," she chuckled, motioning for him to stand in the middle. He swallowed hard when her hands lightly brushed his shoulders, helping position him in front of the blue screen. He posed for his second set of pictures, still slightly dazed enough to not care he was getting his picture taken. He'd been so wrapped up in his pouting ever since Katniss visited the bakery with that Gale guy he'd practically lost his entire appetite. He'd gone through the next three or four days in a haze, barely paying attention to anything around him. Even the cupcake he'd eaten in a moment of weakness had tasted like sawdust, and he couldn't remember that ever happening. Even at his lowest, food was a friend that never let him down or failed to impress.

She took his measurements next – a half an inch here, another inch there – he was still focused on the six pounds.

Katniss scribbled away on her notepad, entering in all of the measurements she'd taken. Watching her closely, he noticed her nod to herself and delicately chew the end of her pencil.

"Measurements are actually more your friend this week. Look," she held the clipboard over to him, comparing the numbers from his first visit until now. An entire inch off his waist! It was small victory, but a victory no less. Peeta seemed to ride a little cloud of glee all the way over to the treadmill for his warmup. He started every session with enough cardio to get him sweating, followed by whatever activity Katniss had planned for him that day. Sometimes they would do weights, others core exercises, sometimes stairs, and once she had even coaxed him into jogging around the indoor track. That had been his least favorite so far - he'd never cared for running, even though he'd done sports in school.

"What's sore today?" she asked, finally drawing him out of his thoughts.

"Hm? Oh, uh….not too bad. I was able to get out of bed today without groaning like an old man, so…"

She chuckled to herself, her bare shoulders shaking slightly with mirth. Peeta grinned to himself, happy to have made her laugh.

"I told you it would get to this point though. Where you're not as sore and your body gets used to it. Stretching feels good and you actually crave exercise."

"As much as I crave an Italian dinner? And cake? We'll see…"

"Maybe not that much," she relented, giving him a smirk. Reaching across his chest, she upped the incline on the treadmill and added a few punches to the speed. "Maybe moving faster will keep you from thinking about it," she said with a sly wink, and Peeta swore he felt his heart stutter in his chest.

Kpkpkpkpkp

The spring day was warm and bright, giving her an extra little jaunt in her step as she made her way back home that day. Was it the spring, or was it Peeta's infectious good mood? She couldn't be sure. For the first time, her job actually made sense. Peeta's success might as well have been her own by the way she let it lift her spirits. Of course she was still dealing with the reality of her own crappy situation, but the fact that work didn't suck for once and she'd helped someone who deserved it as much as he did certainly helped. And it felt good. It felt good to do something besides slide a latte over a counter, clean a tanning bed, or wipe down sticky tables at a diner (all things she had done at some point or another). It felt like she was making a difference to someone and it helped, darn it.

Arriving home, kicked off her shoes and socks and dumped her bags on the side of the house near the water spigot before dutifully heading out back to the small garden plot she kept with Prim. Their baby tomato plants were slightly wilted from the afternoon sun but looked overall decent. The carrots and lettuce were coming in nicely, as well as their two little kale plants. Twisting the spout, the water came spurting out and choked a few times before spraying onto the little plants.

Grow little guy, grow… she silently willed them. Eating healthy was expensive, no matter how she tried. The box store didn't always have the best or freshest selection, and she could forget buying healthy food from the trendy chain store near the gym. She looked forward to having at least five months of free produce to supplement their meals.

A rumbling sound broke her from her thoughts. Haymitch slammed the door to his old truck with a grunt and squinted over at her.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or do we have a regular Martha Stewart on our hands?"

Katniss shot him a glare, waving a few gnats away from her face. "What does that have to do with anything…" she muttered to herself. Haymitch was the first to tease her about gardening but the first to accept a healthy home grown tomato to eat when he grilled. She noticed him warily glance up the side of the house to Effies's window.

"She's at work," Katniss called at him.

He tossed her a glare before ambling into his basement door, letting the screen door slam behind him. She moved the hose over her plants, pausing only to let the now icy water wash over her feet every few minutes. Prim was at class tonight, and this was Effie's late night to work at the salon, so she was flying solo. She was thinking about taking Effie up on her offer to borrow a book from her collection of trashy romance novels when Haymitch called at her from the basement window.

"You been at my fridge, girl?"

Shielding her eyes from the sun, she winced in his direction. "Sorry," she called wryly. "I'll stock you up again on payday, yeah?"

He grunted in response, slamming around in his little kitchen. Finished watering, she put the hose back and was about to go inside when Haymitch reappeared with lighter fluid, a packet of hot dogs, and half a six pack dangling from his pinky finger. "You eat yet?"

"No. Hey, I think we have pickles leftover from the last time you grilled, you want some?"

"Wouldn't say no," he muttered good naturedly. Running inside to grab the pickles, she heard the scrape of the little Webber grill on the cracked sidewalk beside the house. Haymitch used too much lighter fluid to cook, but she wasn't picky. It was mean of her to steal his beer and not return it very quickly, but she'd trade him for some food and all would be right be right between them again.

"Sandwich bread?"

She snorted. "I know you don't have any hot dog buns Haymitch, and you honestly can eat a hot dog just plain? Be real. Here, come on, it's better than nothing," she urged him to drop a finished hot dog onto the piece of sandwich bread. He made a slightly face as she doused it with the works, but didn't turn her away when she handed it to him. The silence between them was comfortable as they ate their hotdogs that had been carefully folded into sandwich bread and doused with pickles and ketchup.

"You wanna beer?"

She laughed and nearly choked. "You scold me for stealing your beer and then offer me one ten minutes later?"

Haymitch stopped chewing to scowl at her, yet still held the remainder of the six pack over to her. With a laugh, she broke one off and opened it with a flourish.

"Cheers!"

He swatted her beer away from his, anxiously glancing up at Effie's window again. "Stop, you'll summon that woman with talk like that."

Katniss slurped the foam from the top of the can and wrinkled her nose. "She's at work, I told you. And why do you care?"

"Can't stand that woman, s'all."

She rolled her eyes and swallowed another bite. "You're like a sixth grader."

"What's that now?"

"You're like a sixth grader," she repeated, shaking her head. "You like her, so you tease her and play hard to get, then complains when she flirts back. I've seen you watch her walk away. Don't even, old man."

"I'm not old! Hey now…." He grumbled, taking a long drag of his beer.

"And if you liked anyone half as much as you liked your booze, you'd make a great boy toy for her. Imagine how dedicated you'd be!" she teased. He only glared at her.

"She's harmless. Lonely and nosey, but harmless," Katniss assured him, taking in his rumbled work shirt and stained cargo pants. "She must be desperate too. When's the last time you washed your work uniform?"

Haymitch heaved a sigh and shook his head. "Surrounded by lippy women I am. Shit, what's gotten into you today?"

Katniss laughed, letting her head fall back against the lawn chair. "It's warm out. Prim's mooching dinner from school tonight and for once, work doesn't suck. It doesn't take much with me, Haymitch."

He watched her sigh peacefully and take another long drag off her beer.

"Guess it don't," he quietly agreed.


Peeta wiped another bead of sweat from his brow, rearranging the icing bag in his hands a third time. Or was it the fourth? Fifth? It hadn't taken him this long to ice a damn cake since he was eleven. Between the smell of the sugary frosting coming out of the bag and the heat of the back room of the bakery, he was struggling. The warm air seemed to make the sugary foods all around him all that much more fragrant and alluring.

He didn't want to slip.

He really, really didn't want to slip.

Had it been utterly disappointing and soul crushing to find out Katniss had a boyfriend? Yes. However, that still didn't keep him from wanting to succeed. Not that it mattered, he told himself. Glimmer hadn't wanted him, so what even made him sure a girl like Katniss would either? Her having a boyfriend shouldn't matter to him.

The frosting bag fell limply to the counter as he stared at the halfway finished, clearly struggling cake. It shouldn't matter. But for some odd, entirely random reason…it did. It sucked that she was taken and it sucked that he was still fat. Moping wouldn't change anything. Peeta knew that. Even if he viewed Katniss as an unobtainable goddess it still felt more than slightly disappointing to realize she was with someone else.

Pushing his hair out of his eyes (it was getting too long) he tried to refocus. He was still down six pounds as far as he knew, and no one but the frosting in his hand could take that away from him.

The swinging door from the front of the shop swept open, bringing a blast of cooler air with it. Looking up, he grinned at the sight of his sister in law, Delly.

"You gonna have that done in time?" she asked, her slight southern drawl just barely there.

"Yeah. Just….not working for me today for some reason," he brushed it off, shaking his head. Picking up the frosting bag, he set himself back to work and tried to look normal, like he wasn't moping. He should have known better.

Delly was many things; a good cook, a wonderful listener, a Pinterest fiend, and a wonderful husband to his brother.

While she was exceedingly kind, she also happened to be one of the most perceptive people Peeta had ever met. She had an astute way (without being cruel) of handling any situation to both gain information and help. It was lucky Peeta had fallen in love with her the moment his brother had brought her home – Delly wasn't someone you wanted to be on the wrong side of. Behind her plump cheeks, perfectly styled blonde waves and dazzling sea-green eyes, she was red-lipstick wearing witty genius. The first time Peeta's mother had hurled one of her famous, passive aggressive insults at Delly, she'd fired right back without batting a perfectly curled eye-lash. If Bran hadn't married her, Peeta was sure he would have tossed his name into the hat at some point. Despite his slightly soured mood, he had to laugh at the thought. True, he loved Delly, he but it was a brotherly love. His sister in law was hard not to fall in love with in some form or another.

His hands shook slightly. Damn, was it hard to be around sugar on a diet. His stomach gave a rumbling growl of agreement as he set the tube down and leaned on the counter.

Behind him, Delly was busy doing the quarterly inventory at the shop that day. A master problem solver and a math whiz, she had gladly taken up the task several years ago after marrying Bran. Pausing, she glanced at Peeta and stopped, mid-pen stroke.

He could tell by the glint in her eye that whatever she was about to say would be teasing.

"I've been runnin over hell's half acre in this shop this morning and you haven't even finished half a cake. What gives?"

Peeta sighed. "Nothing…"

"I may be blonde, Peeta, but I wasn't born yesterday," Her no non-sense tone made the hairs on his neck stand up. Delly was like his mother, albeit nicer, but she was like his mother in the sense that she got what she wanted. The sweet Southern Belle act shouldn't fool anyone. "What's eatin' you?"

Pen and clipboard discarded, she moved over to the counter where he stood. "Bran said you missed family dinner last week."

He gave her a knowing, sideways glance. "And where were you exactly? You weren't there either?"

"My spice rack needed re-organizin'," she lied sweetly. The innocent smile she answered him with told him she didn't expect or care if he believed her answer. It was no secret that Delly abhorred Peeta's mother. It was no secret that anyone loathed their mother, but even a saint like Delly could take so much.

"Nice," he chuckled sourly, "I uh….just didn't feel like dealing with everyone."

"You mean your mother?"

"Everyone," he sighed. "Last time I was there, mom….just was too much. Calling me fat, telling me I'd never meet anyone and I was crazy for trying, basically."

Delly rolled her eyes and fanned herself in the warm air. "For a woman with an ass the size of a dump truck, she sure doles out the fat barbs like she doesn't have a care in the world. Lord…"

Peeta laughed out loud at that. While his mother was nowhere near the size of the males in their family, she was by no means a petite woman. As Delly said, she also had no qualms about being rather judgy about others.

"How do you handle this family, Delly? You could have married any guy, why pick the one with a nightmare of a mother?"

She cocked her head to the side, smiling sweetly at him. She looked like she wanted to pinch his cheeks. "I fell in love with ya'll….you were so sweet and welcoming, well, minus her, but….Bran was a package deal. I loved him, so I loved everything that came with him."

"Including a mother in law who makes snide fat jokes at your expense? How do you just not…arrrgh," he growled to himself, shaking his head.

Delly sighed, leaning on the counter with a hand on her hip. "If I let every snide little comment about my curves go to my head, I'd never leave the darn house, Peeta. She isn't the first person to call me Thunder Thighs, and she certainly won't be the last. If I took every little jab about my curves and my weight seriously I'd make myself crazier than dozen squirrels tied together."

He snorted at that. "Where do you come up with these sayings?" he temporarily had forgotten his disquiet.

"Alabama and a grandma who liked her whisky neat. Now don't dodge me, Peeta, we're too good a'friends. What are you running from?"

Delly saw right through him – she always had. He might as well come clean. Knowing Delly, she's have his entire life solved in a week if he'd let her.

"I….asked out the girl and she shot me down. I shouldn't have….she was….she was too much for me."

"Too much what, exactly?"

"Too pretty, to thin, too…much," he shrugged, running a hand through his hair. It would be streaked with flour and smell like icing now, but he was past caring. "I made the mistake of not keeping it from my mom. She tore into me and made me feel…well, how she does. And I guess it was just a breaking point for me. I don't know. Something changed and I just knew I had to do something. I snapped. I didn't even want to be in my own body anymore."

Delly leaned forward. "You sound like you did something crazy. What's going on, Peeta?"

"I uh…did do something a tad crazy."

"Like what?"

"Well, I…I joined a gym. Got a personal trainer and all that. Started talking to a dietician and….working on it."

Delly's face morphed from antipathy to pride. She beamed. "Peeta, that's…that's a big deal now! You didn't tell me!"

He shrugged. "I didn't really tell anyone for a while. I was too embarrassed to fail. But I'm down a few pounds now and inches, and…and I like it."

Peeta could feel how red his cheeks were as he spoke, avoiding eye contact. He was leaving out one key thing about his newfound passion for getting fit. That 'thing' was a petite brunette with steely eyes and a raspy gut laugh that made his chest clench. His sister in law gleefully grilled him for a few minutes, asking questions and listening with rapt interest as he told her all about his experience so far.

"So why are you still so down and out? Who gives a rat's ass what that old bat has to say?" she beamed, her round cheeks pink with happiness as she playfully elbowed him.

"Well….I can't believe I'm telling you this. You swear not to tell Bran?"

"Cross my heart."

"My trainer…she-"

"She?" Delly interrupted, her eyebrows shooting up.

Peeta blushed harder. "Yeah, she…she's great. Supportive and nice and….really pretty."

Cue another elbow to the ribs. "Peeta! I shoulda known. You charmer…"

"No! No," he laughed, shaking his head. "She isn't….we aren't…that's…no," he stammered. "She's gorgeous, actually, and really cool to talk to but she has this boyfriend."

Delly's smile fell slightly, but she shrugged casually. "Is it serious?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "He works at the gym too. He's…tall and buff and…my opposite, really. She brought him into the bakery last weekend," he sighed.

"Ah," she said, crossing her arms. Another shrug. "Well, they aren't married, are they? Engaged?"

"No, I don't think so…"

"Well," she said lightly, "She ain't married. Boys come and go, Peeta. I dated men I didn't marry or even get that serious with. I was casually datin' someone when I met Bran."

"You were?"

"Mmmhmm….we'd been out on a few dates and it was just…alright. Nothin' special. But I thought, 'What if this is my one shot? What if this guy turns out to be the best I can do? Big girls don't always get the pick of the litter Delly'….that's what I said to myself after dating this guy. Then I met your brother and he was just….somethin' special, right from the get go. I couldn't believe I was about to let myself settle. He was too good for me to let go. So I broke it off with the other guy and told your bother he was taking me out on a date that weekend."

"I remember. You're likely the first and last woman to ever demand a Mellark man take a woman out on a date, Delly," Peeta chuckled at the memory. Bran had come home, completely stunned after meeting his now-wife, and even more surprised when the next time he'd seen her, she'd demanded he take her out. To say it was a shocking turn of events was putting it lightly.

"Right, well….I saw something I wanted, so I made a move. Poor boy didn't know what hit 'im. Still doesn't," she snorted. "But what I'm sayin' in is she isn't married to this guy. Just keep going and be her friend. Get to know her. You're a charming boy, Peeta."

"Man, actually."

She rolled her eyes and gave him a playful swat. "You know what I mean. You have so much to offer a girl. You're so much like your brother, but even better in some ways," she sighed. "You're more sensitive than Bran. Women love that. You're also more creative and got that quick wit. Your bother sometimes…" she shook her head with a smile. "Don't beat yourself up."

"Thanks Dells," he offered her a grim smile.

"I mean that. Keep going to see her – work on yourself. You gotta learn to love yourself before you can expect any sane woman to. Fix your stuff and just get to know her in the process. You might be surprised what happens."

"Coming from a woman who has never met Katniss?"

"Katniss? That's her name? That's pretty…." She said slowly. "No, it's coming from a woman who had to date a few frogs before she met her prince. And I know you, Peeta Mellark. You ain't a frog, any day of the week."


Oh Delly! I hope you enjoyed their pep talk. I know there was limited Katniss/Peeta interaction in this one, but I promise you that almost the entire next chapter is just those two.

Sorry for the delay! I know I have some new readers here and I just got preoccupied with the nice weather the Midwest is finally having and if I'm being honest, I've been wrapped up in reading OTHER people's stories! So much good stuff out there, so fun to read and enjoy. I forgot how much I loved reading fanfic and I've been sucked into quite a few good ones lately of all different types and fandoms. But the next chapter is on the way!

Let me know what you think!