Dearest Diary,

Today, I have accepted a marriage proposal, saved a man's life, killed a (thankfully different) man, and lost my remaining family. It is not yet suppertime, yet I feel an entire life's events have been compressed into this single day.

Dearest Diary,

There are some elements I am unwilling to put to paper, which is in itself a new discovery, but suffice it to say that the list above deserves an amendment.

The blood drained from Mrs. Carrow's face the instant she opened the door.

Katniss grimaced. She and Peeta had tried to clean themselves up in the long hours they waited for her family to return, and she had thought they looked somewhat presentable. Apparently, she had some rethinking to do, because Peeta's poor housekeeper seemed about to faint.

Peeta must have had the same thought, for he put a steadying hand on Mrs. Carrow's shoulder as he stepped inside.

Though the immediate danger of fainting seemed to have passed, Mrs. Carrow did not move away from the door. It was likely only the imaginings of a tired and suspicious mind, but Katniss could have sworn the woman was intentionally blocking her way.

Miffed, but well aware that Peeta's beloved housekeeper was not an enemy she wanted to make, Katniss attempted to slip past. Surely Crane was not so stupid as to not notice she was staying next door, but she had no desire to advertise it.

The woman did not even spare Katniss a glance as she shifted to again block her way.

Katniss suppressed a growl. There could be no denying that was intentional.

Mrs. Carrow's attention remained glued to Peeta. "The proposal went… well?"

"Brilliantly." Sunshine sparkled in his voice. Was he truly too blind to see what was happening? "Mrs. Carrow, may I present my fiancée."

This time, she had no choice but to acknowledge Katniss. "How wonderful to see you again." Though summer still stifled the city, Mrs. Carrow's voice could have frozen over the Thames.

Peeta frowned. Took him long enough. "Mrs. Carrow –" Realization dawned, and his features smoothed. "Miss Everdeen is not the cause of my black eye."

"Oh, thank God." In an instant, the warm, inviting woman Katniss had met on her first visit to Peeta's house reappeared. "Please, do come in."

She stepped back, just an inch or two, but enough for Katniss to pass comfortably. It was incredible how much less space Mrs. Carrow took up when she was not trying to be a one-woman brick wall.

"I didn't want to believe it, you know, seemed like such a dear the last time, but Peeta did say this morning that you might put up a fight about the wedding. Assumed then he meant an argument – who wouldn't, after all – but one does worry, and when I saw that bruise, oh heavens." The woman even breathed too quickly for Katniss to get a word in. "I'm terribly sorry about the confusion. I hope you will be able to forgive me."

For once, Katniss chose her words carefully. "I am grateful for your concern for Mister Mellark."

She caught Peeta's eye, and he nodded. Good. He knew far better than her how to tread this particular road.

Katniss knew the cannon was about to be fired before Peeta started talking. "Miss Everdeen will be staying with us tonight."

"Oh!" Mrs. Carrow's eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline. "Will she be needing another room?"

"Yes," they answered in forceful unison. Katniss' cheeks burned scarlet.

"There has been a situation with Miss Everdeen's family," Peeta explained. "She will be staying here until the matter is resolved."

"I'll prepare a room, then." Mrs. Carrow kept her voice even, perhaps too understanding. "And I'll bring out some super once I'm finished, if you like. It's late, and the two of you must be starving." Already, the woman was shuffling to the stairs.

"Thank you, Mrs. Carrow," Peeta called after her. He waited a moment before turning to Katniss. "She likes you."

"She thinks I'm ruined, and thought I hit you. Bit premature to say she likes me, I think."

"No, trust me, I can tell." He grinned. "And if she gives you any trouble, I can always mention that you saved my life. That will endear you to her forever."

"I'm the one who put you in danger in the first place."

"That was Crane." He thought about it a second longer and shrugged. "I won't mention that bit."

Katniss wished she was hungry and dirty again. Sitting in a well-appointed bedroom with sheets as soft as silk, wearing freshly laundered clothing, feeling the comforting warmth of a good meal in her stomach were hardly the kind of penance she deserved. She had failed to protect her younger sister. A sense of responsibility for Prim's safety was what brought her to London in the first place, and instead, Katniss had put her in harm's way.

Crane had best be treating her mother and sister like visiting royalty. If Prim had gone hungry, or if, God forbid, Crane had hurt her in any way, she would rip the man's skin from his body. She was going to kill him anyway, of that she was certain, but if he had abused her mother or sister, Katniss would ensure it hurt.

A bit of window peeking had convinced her of what she already knew: if Prim and Mother were being held at Crane's London residence, they weren't anywhere easily accessible from the outside. That left windowless rooms, of which there could be many, or another location entirely. When she thought of it that way, she had ruled out perhaps two dozen rooms in the entire country. How informative.

She heard a soft knock at the door.

"Come in."

Peeta held a bulky case at his side. He chuckled when he saw her. "If this is going to become a regular occurrence, we might have to buy you some proper clothes."

She looked down at her linen shirt and fitted breeches. "You might not get them back. I'm starting to like them."

"Mrs. Carrow will have your dress back as soon as she can. She said it's more of a challenge than she expected."

He was being tactful; the dress qualified as a complete disaster. A blood stain decorated the knee, muddy red-brown even after Katniss had scrubbed at it. It also sported an impressive tear at the elbow and ten or so smaller and more manageable tears and stains. Unless Mrs. Carrow was a miracle worker – which, granted, she might be – Katniss would be wearing Peeta's childhood clothes for quite a while. She didn't mind. Peeta's old breeches really were growing on her.

This time, when Peeta spoke, his voice was softer. "You didn't see anything when you poked around Crane's house, did you?"

He wasn't supposed to know about that.

He sighed. "You really aren't as stealthy as you believe yourself, you know. Mrs. Carrow didn't believe your fresh air excuse either, and she doesn't even know about Crane."

"How much do the servants know?"

"Enough to keep an eye out for anything suspicious, but nothing about your family."

"Good. What's in the case?"

"Let me show you." Peeta hoisted the case onto the bed and unclasped it. She moved away from the window to look inside.

Katniss pulled out one of the weapons, testing its weight in her hand. It felt good, heavy but not too unwieldy. "Dueling pistols? Why do you have these?"

"They belong to my brother. I asked for them before Crane's dinner party, assuming there might be trouble." She could hear the smile in his voice. "Rye is upset I didn't ask him to be my second. I didn't think he would be understanding if I told him why I really needed two pistols."

"I'm glad you thought of this. Is it loaded?"

"Yes, I loaded them earlier. You have used a pistol before?"

"Not a pistol, but I have shot a rifle many times. I can't imagine it's too terribly different." She lifted the weapon, careful not to point it anywhere near him, and rested her finger lightly over the trigger. Yes, she could use this if she had to.

"Good to hear. Sleep well."

"I am not going to sleep. I'll keep watch." She would not let Crane hurt Peeta too.

He nodded. "Mr. Carrow and Edgar are also staying up."

Edgar was no older than sixteen, and judging by the portion of Mr. and Mrs. Carrow's discussion about her Katniss had overheard despite doing her best not to eavesdrop, the manservant was half deaf. While Katniss was sure both had the best of intentions, they did not inspire confidence.

"Try to get some sleep. We need to plan tomorrow." He kissed her forehead, and she held him there for a second longer.

"Goodnight."

She listened to his footsteps as he walked to his chamber, which was a long hallway away from the one she occupied. For his comments about her lack of stealth, the man walked like an elephant. Even after the door closed, she could hear him moving around his room.

Katniss smiled to herself as she blew out her candle. The darkness at first felt all-consuming, but just as Father had taught her so many years ago, she kept herself calm as she counted to thirty, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Slowly, shadows emerged from the blackness, and the room around her came back into focus in dusty shades of gray. Checking that she knew where the pistol was, she slinked over to the window, pulling back the curtains as quietly as she could.

Night stretched before her, still and silent. From this side of the house, she had to strain her neck to see Crane's town house, but there it was, only a few lit windows breaking the foreboding wall of stone. She wanted so badly to see Prim's slim face peering out at her, but Katniss knew that would not happen. Instead, she forced her gaze away, moving to the gardens, looking for any movement among Peeta's tulips.

Nothing. No motion, no noise, nothing.

She strained her ears, trying to hear Peeta in the other room. She could make out the faintest of breezes outside, barely enough to move the drapes, but nothing from inside the house.

Katniss tried to force herself to be reasonable. Peeta could be completing his toilette, or waiting up as she was. Even more likely, he was asleep.

She counted to thirty and tried again to hear him. Sixty this time, and a hundred the next.

He needs sleep, she chastised herself. There is no cause for concern. You would know if something was wrong.

You should have realized something was wrong before Prim disappeared too.

In an instant, she was in the hall, pistol in hand. Peeta's door had been left ajar, and the tiny, rational part of her brain knew that probably meant nothing more than that he was listening for any odd noises, but the rest of her -

"Katniss! Is something wrong? Are you hurt?" Peeta was freshly scrubbed and looked ready for bed. That did not improve her concentration.

"I'm fine. I was just worried about you." And I will start worrying about you again the instant you are out of my sight. Katniss was not going to admit that out loud. "May I keep watch from in here?" She spotted windows on both exterior walls, and she needed an excuse. "This is a better vantage point to watch Crane's house

He looked between her and the window, and Katniss could see his doubts.

"I won't be a bother. I'll sit quietly next to the window, and you'll forget I'm there."

"Katniss, look out the windows."

She followed his instructions and found they were on the wrong side of the building to see Crane's house. Her mental map and off the cuff excuses had failed her.

"Get some sleep, Katniss. Do it here or in your own chamber, but you need rest."

Over the years, she had heard plenty about the physical act of sleeping with a man, but none of the gossips bothered to include practical details regarding the actual sleep portion. How close should their bodies be? Not touching, obviously, but there had to be some middle ground between that and precariously dangling off the side of the bed. She usually slept on her side, but facing Peeta felt too intimate, and turning the other way impersonal, bordering on rude. On her stomach simply didn't seem ladylike. For that matter, neither did the breeches. And why, pray tell, was she worrying about such trivial matters when her mother and sister were missing and quite likely in mortal danger?

Katniss settled on her back - not that she could really feel settled when an adult man was sleeping not a foot away. Her back complained at new position, but she refused to move. She was going to fall asleep in this exact position through sheer willpower if she had to.

Was Peeta already asleep? Maybe she could get a little more comfortable knowing he wouldn't see her.

A quick visual check surely didn't violate her no-moving rule.

Eyes closed, even breathing, no other obvious movements. Yes, he needed sleep after today's events, but if she had to suffer, it only seemed fair that he should as well.

"Hmpf." The sound came out louder than she intended.

Peeta snorted. "I thought you were asleep."

"I am."

"Me too."

This time, when she looked over, she found him staring back at her. Katniss rolled onto her side to face him, and she could almost hear her back sigh in relief. Finally.

"You sleep with your eyes open? I suppose that is a good thing to know about someone before you marry them." Katniss' stomach flipped in a not-unpleasant way at her own words. Oh God, she was going to marry him – and considering that they were currently in bed together, the wedding date was probably coming sooner rather than later.

Peeta, unaffected, merely shrugged. "You're distracting."

"I am doing my absolute best to leave you alone." No need to explain herself any further; the chasm of empty space between the two of them spoke loudly enough.

"Still distracting."

Perhaps it was the slow, wide grin that accompanied his words, or the cherishing fondness in his voice. Maybe she was just scared and wanted not to think for a few minutes. No matter the catalyst, Katniss found herself scooting to the other side of the bed, parking her body against his side.

Peeta tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and his fingers lingered on her neck. His eyes never left hers.

The room thrummed with energy. Katniss knew what she wanted, but the expectation in the air was stifling.

So she kicked him. Not hard enough to hurt, never that, but certainly enough to be annoying.

It broke the spell. "That's not helping either," Peeta laughed. He draped one of his legs over both of hers, effectively pinning them to the mattress.

"I'm terribly sorry." She wriggled out from underneath him and flung her leg over both of his. "Is that better?"

"Not in the way I originally intended."

Katniss snorted. "You're impossible." She shifted, moving to hover over him on hands and knees, not quite allowing their bodies to touch. "But sometimes in a good way."

"What about now?" His fingers ran up and down her thighs, his touch feather-light through the thin fabric of her - well, technically his - breeches. The room was too dark to make out any color, but in her mind's eye, she watched his eyes deepen as she grazed her toes against his shins.

She licked her lips and grinned. "I haven't decided yet," she whispered as she leaned in toward him.

Peeta's lips met hers halfway, and her eyes fluttered shut as she basked in the sensation. Katniss was hyper-aware of everywhere their bodies touched: his fingers tangling in her hair, her toes against his shin, her hand against his chest. And above all of it the warm, buzzing pressure where their lips met.

His arms wrapped around her, guiding her down until their bodies pressed together, and every nerve in her body lit up. She needed as she had never needed anything before. Katniss grabbed at his shirt, gathering handfuls of soft white linen and tugging up to expose his abdomen. Peeta's breath hitched as her thumb flicked against his navel, so she did it again. Her lips broke away from his, and Katniss dotted kisses over his face. One to the temple, another along his jaw, back to the lips because she couldn't bear to stay away. The more she explored, the more she desired. She wanted all of him, and she wanted him now.

Peeta's hand slowly, maddeningly slid up from her waist to her chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps, and she keened into the motion. When he cupped her breast, she squeaked.

His hand stilled. "Good or bad?"

"More."

She could feel his laugh as much as she heard it. "That I can manage." Warm hands slipped underneath her shirt, but it wasn't enough.

Katniss sat up and tugged off her shirt. In the otherwise silent room, Peeta's gasp felt deafening, and she marveled over the hold she had on him – and he on her. She had never felt as powerful, as bewitching as she did guiding his hands to her breasts, watching as he began to knead them. Their eyes locked on each other's, and she moaned when he rolled her nipple between his fingers.

"I want to see you," she whispered, leaning down to kiss him again. He rolled her over onto her back, and even though she knew she was getting what she wanted, Katniss mewled in complaint when his lips left hers.

His clothes and her bottoms were quickly removed, two shirts and two pairs of breeches forming an undignified heap on the floor of his chamber.

Her breath caught in her throat when she finally felt his skin against hers. Katniss pulled him tight, her hands moving to his hips, pressing the hardness she felt there against her thigh.

"Katniss, wait." His fingers rubbed tight little circles on her thighs that made her skin burn. "Are you certain about this?"

"Peeta, I am in your home, unchaperoned. I am already thoroughly ruined."

"I care about you, not about what anyone else thinks."

She could drown in his eyes. "I cannot remember the last time I was more certain about anything."

With that, his lips and hands were everywhere. Katniss' world narrowed to the blankets beneath her and the man above her, and the intimacy of it was more exhilarating than she could have imagined.

His mouth closed around her nipple, and she felt a jolt through her entire body. Katniss held his head in place as he sucked on her, playing with the baby hairs at the base of his neck. Had every inch of her not been brimming with energy, she could have stayed like that forever.

He moved down her body, leaving a meandering line of kisses behind. Peeta traced the crease between her leg and hips, and Katniss' legs opened on their own accord. His eyes shut as he nuzzled against the hair down there, and her toes curled at the unexpected pleasure.

His first kiss was soft, almost chaste against her, but it made her throb with need. "Peeta," she moaned, and his mouth grew more insistent, licking and sucking. "Peeta!"

"Shhh." His eyes met hers as he kissed just below her navel, and they didn't leave as he moved back between her legs.

She couldn't trust herself not to scream, so Katniss clapped a hand over her mouth. With the other, she held Peeta's hand, using it to anchor herself through the sensations that coursed through her. Katniss didn't fully understand what Peeta was doing to her, but it kept growing, taking her higher and higher. Together, they moved past what she thought her body could take, further still, until everything crashed in on her, and trembling, she lazily floated down again.

"Help me." Peeta's voice was hoarse, and when he kissed her, she tasted something that she knew to be herself on his lips.

He wiped some sort of grease onto her hand and moved it to his erection. She wrapped her hand around it, letting her thumb lazily run up its side. Peeta's hand settled over hers and guided her motions. Katniss relished the change in his breathing as her hand pumped up and down, knowing she was bringing him the same pleasure he had brought her just moments prior.

"You're beautiful," she whispered, and his hips bucked against her hand. The reaction emboldened her further. She licked a stripe along his jawline. "I love seeing you like this. I love the way you make me feel."

One more twist of the wrist, and his whole body tensed. She watched, enthralled, as the tremors played out across his face, hardly noticing the wetness on her hand.

"Christ," he swore. A couple heartbeats passed, and Peeta cracked open one eye. "I told you you were distracting."

"I might have to agree with you this time." She giggled and kissed his cheek. "But I'm not planning on making a habit of it."

"I would be disappointed if you did." Peeta reached into a nightstand and pulled out a rag that he used to clean both of them off.

Content, Katniss curled up against his side, resting the palm of her hand against his chest. Peeta kissed her forehead, and she smiled, snuggling in closer. She still refused to sleep tonight, but if she were to sleep with a man, this was how she would do it.