Despite how enthusiastic Katniss was about the idea of me moving in with her, she's also rather paranoid, and it's several weeks before she decides the coast is clear. We've just celebrated my birthday days before when she tells me she thinks it's finally safe. The cameras have been gone a good week and she's barely heard a peep from the Capitol. I insist that I can just stay in the barracks if she's worried, but she maintains that her sneaking into the barracks is probably more dangerous than me sleeping at her house. More illegal, certainly.
I've barely been living with Katniss a week when I come home on Friday afternoon to the sound of a heated argument. Entering through the back door in the kitchen, I catch strains of it coming from the living room. It's Peeta and Katniss, that much I can tell immediately. They had a telephone interview with some Capitol newspaper today, but that was at one o'clock. Either it was delayed or they've been arguing awhile.
Peeta finally raises his voice enough for me to hear him clearly. "You know, Katniss, it's fine if you don't love me. But do you need to rub it in my face like this?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Seriously?" Voice dripping with sarcasm, he suggests, "I dunno, you could try not showing up with hickies from your boyfriend-cousin person all the time, for instance."
"It's not like I schedule my hickies around our interviews," Katniss snaps while I smirk to myself in the kitchen. She may not, but I do. Covertly. Two can play the possessive game. "And Gale's not my boyfriend. How many times do I have to tell you?"
"Okay, well then who is?"
"That's none of your business."
He's got no right to be harassing her like this. That's why I round the corner. That's what I tell myself, anyway. Peeta's eyebrows jump sky high as I come into view. "Agent?" Katniss whips around just as he asks, "What are you doing here?"
Ignoring Katniss's panicked death glare, I cross my arms and declare, "My girlfriend, hopefully. If that's all right with you."
Eyes squeezing shut, Katniss groans. "Johanna," she growls through gritted teeth.
Peeta's jaw is all but on the floor. "You?" Looking back and forth between us, he scoffs, "Well, that explains a hell of a lot."
"Fuck off, Peeta," spouts a frustrated Katniss.
In contrast, my gaze is cold as I look him over, thoroughly disappointed. "And to think you seemed so down with it when you thought I had a crush on my boss."
Katniss redirects her scowl my way. "On Purnia? Really?"
"It was a joke."
"Sure," she snorts.
"To hear her tell it, the whole shift has a crush on her," contributes Peeta.
"We all think she's hot," I clarify, rolling my eyes. "There's a difference."
"That's not what you said."
"I don't remember what I said, I just remember what I meant."
Throwing a pointed look Katniss's way, Peeta muses, "No one says what they really mean, do they?" After letting that sit there a moment, he stalks over to the door, barely stopping to jam his feet in his shoes on the way out.
Katniss finally gives voice to the simmering anger flushing her face. "Purnia? Seriously, Hanna?"
Once again I find myself rolling my eyes. "I've told you-"
"Yeah, you always tell me nothing's happening there. Funny how it keeps coming up."
"You know what? I'm being chill about you fawning all over Peeta, so maybe you could calm the fuck down. He was trying to make us fight. Are you going to let him tear us apart because he's jealous?"
Still scowling, Katniss glumly crosses her arms. "No."
"No. Good."
"But I'm still mad at you," she chirps. "What the hell was that? Telling Peeta wasn't your decision to make."
Giving my head a patronizing tilt, I sneer, "Aren't you forgetting something, Katniss? That time at the Hob with Darius, maybe? At least I wasn't getting all touchy-feely in front of the boy who likes you."
"At least I didn't call you my girlfriend," she shoots back.
"I wasn't your girlfriend. But you pissed all over me anyway," I remind her. "And can you really blame me, after having to watch all that star-crossed lovers bullshit for weeks?"
"No one was making you watch."
"Please," I scoff. "Like I was capable of dragging my eyes away."
"Right." Katniss draws the word out as she steps closer. "How could I forget you're a bloodthirsty Career?"
My eyes narrow. "I meant because I care about you, numb nuts!" When she merely blinks, I throw my hands up. "Look, if you want to pick a fight, go find Haymitch. I'm sure he'd love a screaming match. I'm not in the mood." Not waiting for a response, I stomp up to our room to take a shower.
When I come back downstairs, Katniss isn't home. Figuring she must have taken my advice regarding Haymitch, I settle down on the couch with a novel. My theory is proven wrong when she comes home a few hours later wearing her hunting boots. The faint scent of pine filters into my nostrils as she throws herself across the couch, settling her head on my lap. Releasing my book with one hand, I twirl my fingers absentmindedly in her hair while I finish my chapter. She rubs her cheek on my thigh and relaxes under my touch, at least until I toss the paperback onto the coffee table and the soft thud makes her startle.
"Whoa, hey," I say, looking down into her wide gray eyes. "Did you fall asleep?"
Shaking her head, Katniss lowers it to my lap again, turning onto her back. "Just surprised me."
Now spotting a tiny leaf caught in her bangs, I pluck it out and hold it up for her to see. "What did you catch?"
"Nothing. I climbed a tree and got into a screaming match with the mockingjays." Maybe it shouldn't, but that visual makes me chuckle a bit. Thankfully, Katniss doesn't seem to mind. "You were right," she admits. "I just wanted to be mad at someone."
My eyes flit away. "I shouldn't have told Peeta."
"You're right," she concurs. "I should have." Her mouth twitches as I make eye contact again. "But I didn't."
"Like you said, it's none of his business."
"Maybe, maybe not," she shrugs. "But I feel better now. Not hiding things from him."
Nibbling my cheek, I drum my fingers on her stomach. "He won't… say anything, will he?"
"No," she scoffs. "Not a chance."
***o***
Living in the Victor's Village, I have to get up extra early just to make the briefing. It's worth it, though, being able to sleep with Katniss every night in a bed actually big enough for two people. The walk won't be fun in the middle of winter, but for now it's nice. The exercise and crisp morning air help me wake up, make it easier to be social first thing in the morning. I've been able to cut my coffee intake in half.
After punching my breakfast order into Martha, I pop into the Commune to brew said half cup. When I get back to the kitchen, I spot a familiar face in the group of those waiting for their food. "Oh my god, Thena!" I surprise myself by running over and wrapping my long lost neighbor up in a hug. "You're okay?"
"Got a nice scar to show for it, but yeah, I'm good. Back to work as of today." She squints as I pull away. "I got in on last night's train. We had an impromptu party in the Commune. I knocked on your door to tell you, but you weren't there."
"Yeah," I reply, "I was out. At the Hob." Athena gives me a funny look, but is dragged away by Tory before she has the chance to pry further.
Unfortunately, it turns out she's not the one I really have to worry about. After announcing our assignments, Purnia adds, "Mason, stay behind." My three favorite words, coming from my CO. It always signals a particularly pleasant conversation is about to unfold. And after yesterday's events, it feels especially ominous. I can't imagine Peeta would do anything to hurt Katniss, but maybe he found a way to only hurt me.
Swallowing my nerves, I whip out a coy grin as my shiftmates exit the briefing room. "A private audience? To what do I owe this honor?"
Purnia never laughs at these jokes of mine, but sometimes I'll get a little smirk out of her. Not today. There's not even a flicker in her eye as she prowls closer and demands, "Where've you been?"
It takes all of my focus and willpower not to flinch in the face of those words and her piercing stare. "Nowhere, Captain."
"Really?" She cocks her head. "I went by your room Wednesday evening and you weren't there. And after your conspicuous absence last night, I tried again earlier this morning. Out of curiosity."
I lift a lazy eyebrow. "Keeping tabs on me, now?"
"Someone has to," she snaps. "You are really fucking stupid, Mason. Do you want to get both of you killed?"
"Who cares?" I demand, leaning back in the chair with an exaggerated shrug. "As long as the star-crossed lovers look happy for the cameras, I doubt the government gives two shits what Katniss does. Or who."
"I never took you for an optimist," she retorts dryly.
Scowling up at her, I snark, "Can I go?"
"No." Slapping her clipboard down on the table before me, she points at my name on a roster on the top page. Before I have a chance to read the heading, she's telling me, "You're up for the next IE run. We leave Wednesday afternoon, could be gone up to a week."
That statement kicks half the air from my lungs, but I manage to cover it with a scoff. "You really want to keep me away from Katniss that badly?"
"It's your turn."
"Convenient."
"We're going to Two," she informs me, her tone suddenly much less hostile. My head snaps up. "And if we make good time, we'll have a couple free hours in town Saturday afternoon. I know you're not from Glenwood, but at least it's a taste of home."
As I mull this over, my brain locks in on one word. "'We'?" Purnia nods. "Good. At least this time we'll have someone on board who will actually do something in the case of an attempted rape."
"As I recall," she smirks, "you had someone last time too."
My brow creases. "You gave me hell for that."
"Yes, I did," admits Purnia. "But I also admired it a little."
Nearly blushing, I brush the compliment off with a casual shrug. "Well, we ladies gotta have each other's backs. No matter what district we're from."
She nods once more. "I agree."
The news weighs on me all day, though I'm not sure how I feel about it. More than anything, I dread telling Katniss. While there's a silver lining in it for me, there's only a lonely bed in it for her. Once I've geared down at the barracks, I take the back route along the fence to the Village, like I always do.
The sound of running water greets me as I open the back door, and I quickly spot Katniss washing dishes at the sink. "Hey," I grunt in greeting as I kick my shoes off. Sidling up behind her, I reach out to slide my hands around her waist. My fingertips don't even have a chance to touch before she whips around. The wet knife at my throat is only half as scary as the wild, murderous look in her eyes.
The resulting jolt of terror makes me raise my hands defensively, and in an instant I've disarmed her. Trying to steady my breathing, I swallow my fear and arch my eyebrows. "Usually you're happier to see me," I deadpan, slapping the knife down on the counter.
Katniss shoves me away. "Why would you sneak up on me like that?" she demands. "What is wrong with you, Hanna? I could have killed you!"
"I wasn't sneaking, I said hi," I protest, thoroughly annoyed. "Jumpy, much?"
Her already flushed face reddens further as she clenches her jaw. "Don't you ever fucking do that again," she spits, absolutely fuming. But while anger dominates her expression, her eyes are still wild with fear. That sight steals my own anger, replacing it with concern. "Do you understand me?"
Holding up a calming hand, I start, "Katniss, I'm s-"
"Just leave me alone," she snaps, barging past me to storm up the staircase. Our bedroom door slams, and moments later sobs begin echoing down into the kitchen. I wish I could go up there and comfort her, but she made it inescapably clear that I'm not wanted. So I hang around downstairs, trying to ignore the continued weeping that wrings my heart.
The crying stops after a while, and I decide to check on her. Knocking to avoid a repeat of the incident that led to this, I ease open our door and find Katniss passed out on the bed. I consider draping an extra blanket over her, but I don't want to take any chances. Quietly gathering a change of clothes, I head into the attached bathroom to take a shower.
When I come out a short time later, running my fingers through tangled strands of hair, she's sitting leaning back against the headboard. Relieved to see she looks much calmer now, I edge closer. Swallowing in response, she shuffles down so she's lying on her back and pats the quilt in invitation. Easing myself down beside her, I sigh, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you earlier."
"No, I'm sorry," she mumbles. "And I know. I was already really on edge." Pulling me closer, she wraps one arm around me and threads the fingers of her other hand in my wet hair. Scratching my scalp soothingly, she swallows hard and confesses, "Sometimes when I'm hunting, I get these flashbacks to shooting humans."
Like the victor who freaked out on the mats. I understand better than I want to. Giving her side a comforting squeeze, I mutter, "Cato."
"And Marvel," she adds.
Lump growing in my throat, I force out, "And Clove."
"I didn't shoot Clove," Katniss reminds me. As if I could have forgotten. "But yes," she admits. "Other times." She shrugs and shifts beneath me. "On the bright side, at least now I don't have to hunt if it gets so bad that I can't. And I never have to go down in the mines again."
"Yeah," I concur with another squeeze, "now you get to skip the annual field trip."
"I meant…" Trailing off, she bites her lip in thought. "Part of why it scared me was because I knew I'd probably end up down there." Catching my puzzled blink, she spells out, "It's not like I'd have a husband to provide for me. Who was I gonna marry? Gale, maybe, if I forced it? I was never really interested in anyone before you. And making a living just off hunting is tough, and risky."
"And if we ever cracked down on hunting…"
"Exactly. Who knows what the next Head will be like? Chances were, I was gonna end up down there. It's the most profitable legal job I could have landed. Even if I'm half Townie by blood, nobody likes me, none of them would hire me." Katniss rolls her eyes. "But anyone can be a miner. You don't have to smile or even be halfway pleasant."
"Yeah, that sounds more suited to you," I tease.
She shoots me a half-hearted glare. "Shut up."
Dropping my voice an octave, I purr, "Make me."
A smile creeping onto her face, Katniss lies there a second before pouncing. But I'm ready, and only willing to go down if it's with a fight. We wrestle for several moments, grunting and giggling, before she pins me on my back with her hand over my mouth. Removing the hand now that I've been subdued, she remarks, "You let me win." She sounds a little disappointed.
Throwing her a sly wink, I reveal, "Maybe I wanted you on top of me."
Her grin returning right away, Katniss grasps my wrists and pins them above my head. "Is that so?" I'm opening my mouth to respond when she grinds her hips down into mine, making a wanting groan come out instead. Smile spreading to her eyes and mixing with lust, she only releases me so she can peel off her shirt.
Taking the opportunity while I have it, I throw my own shirt to the floor and then reach out to run my hands over her newly revealed skin. My palms glide from the small of her back around her flanks, letting my fingers trail down her belly. Before I can do any more, she snatches my hands again, pulling a pout onto my lips. It doesn't last, though, because as soon as she forces me back down with her body, she's wedging a thigh between my legs and grinding again. Wrapping a leg around her butt, I pull her down harder, echoing her heavy breathing tickling my ear.
Katniss swipes her tongue along my pulse point a couple times, then starts to kiss down my body. Ripping one hand from her grasp, I curl my fingers under her jaw, tipping her chin up. "I want you up here," I tell her, sliding my hand around to pull her up by the back of the head. So she comes back, resuming her little thrusts that drive me insane.
Eventually her pace slows, and I flip us. I enjoy this role too, and if she's lost the energy, I will happily take over. Her hands migrate to my hips, urging me on as I grind down into her. Looking down into her wide eyes, I find her pupils are blown. Taking this as my cue, I slide one hand down her stomach to unfasten her belt and pants. It takes a little work, with my other hand wound in her hair, but it feels all the more a triumph when I worm my hand inside her underwear. Until I find her completely dry.
My eyes narrow as I push my frustration to the surface, masking the insecurity lurking beneath. "Really, again?" Pushing myself up to sit on my knees, I snark, "What, you only get boners for Peeta, now?"
"Fuck you!" Snapping upright, Katniss shoves me onto my butt. Her dark glare cuts through me, but it's the hurt in her expression that actually manages to make me feel bad. "So much for being chill."
"Sorry, that was…" I trail off with a sigh. "I thought you were turned on. You looked like you were."
"I am," she states, eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Or I feel like I am, anyway." Catching my tiny eye roll, she clenches her jaw. "Trust me, this is more frustrating for me than it is for you."
Rubbing my brow, I tell her, "Look, Katniss, if you're not in the mood for this shit, you don't have to do it. I don't wanna pressure you."
"It's not that. And it's not you." My doubtful eyes drop, and she insists, "It's not. It's just… my head is so full of shit, I can't function properly. In general, I mean. I don't have as much energy, and I can't feel things the way I used to."
"What do you mean?"
"I can't really explain it. I just feel like some part of me died in that arena and now I can't connect with the world like I used to."
Taking this all in, I conclude, "So you have what your mom and I had."
"I'm not sad," she counters. "Not really, anyway. Things just feel… different." Her mouth twitches glumly. "But I guess it's me that's different." Eyes trailing down my torso, she murmurs, "It's not like I don't enjoy feeling close to you." A moment later, she catches my eye earnestly. "Can we just… be naked?"
My lips turn up involuntarily, a soft chuckle pushing them apart. "Sure."
Removing the rest of our clothes, we burrow under the covers. As I settle on my back, Katniss nestles her head under my chin, a hand loosely cupping my breast. Our bare legs tangle, and I lazily stroke my calf up and down hers, making her groan and nuzzle into my collarbone. "I'm so glad you're here."
That reminds me of my earlier conversation with Purnia, and I take her hand with a sigh, hoping to soften the blow. "I have to go on another IE run. On Wednesday."
Her eyebrows twitch against my chest. "Haven't been sucking up to Purnia enough, huh?"
"Well, to be fair, we're going to Two. Those are really nice runs to get picked for."
Suddenly alert, Katniss pushes up on her elbow to make eye contact. "Are you going to Meredith?"
"No, there's no trains up there. I think we're just going as far as the main town."
"Too bad," she mumbles sympathetically.
Shrugging this off, I tell her, "I'm gonna call Josh. See if he can come down and hang out for a couple hours. There's trucks running down to the valley all the time, trains from there into town."
Katniss nods and returns to her spot on my chest. "I hope you get to see him."
"Yeah. Me too."
***o***
The phone call with my brother turns out completely different from what I planned, or expected. My suggestion that he feign sickness and then hitch a ride down to the valley in Jordan's transport truck quickly gets shot down, as he doesn't want to risk getting them both in trouble. "Besides," he adds, "I can't really afford to take time off with a baby on the way."
After literally dropping the phone in shock, I press him for details. They only recently found out for sure, but the doctor thinks Sabina's about ten weeks along, making the baby due sometime late in March. Though I'm still a little bummed out, the news greatly tempers my disappointment about not getting to see him.
By the time our train pulls into Glenwood Station Saturday morning, I've got an alternative plan for what to do with my off hours. Two and a half of them, to be exact. Our afternoon and night guys take off as soon as the unloading and loading is done, while Purnia and I have to stick around to keep an eye on the miners and make sure none of them leave the vicinity. Too bad leaving the vicinity all we want to do.
"I grew up here," Purnia tells me as she looks out into the street with yearning eyes. "Still have family in town."
She's mentioned this is her hometown before, but I'm in a good mood and actually have the patience to engage in polite conversation for once. "Oh yeah? Whereabouts?"
"Down on 24th."
"That's quite a walk," I remark, trying to sound interested.
"I've already reserved a cab," she says, rocking on her heels. "So little time to waste." The thing that does interest me is the fact that she is discussing her personal life with me, that and how she's fidgeting like nobody's business. Then again, I probably would be too if we were in Meredith. Maybe out of anxiety as much as excitement, but still.
As soon as our afternoon guys come to relieve us at two o'clock, we're back in our rooms and stripping off our gear like we only have hours to live. Probably because it's true, in a sense. Exiting the train just in time to spot Purnia hopping into a cab that then speeds away to the south, I turn to the nearby bridge and take off at a brisk pace. But unlike her, I don't have far to go.
The Victor's Village is located in a sparsely populated area north of the river, nestled at the foot of a mountain. It's peaceful out here, and I bask in the quiet and sunshine as I leave the ruckus of the town behind. As I stroll through the Village and the last house on the left comes into view, my brow furrows at the wooden ramp that has been constructed off the side of the front stoop. Peering at it curiously as I climb the steps, I turn to the door and knock. Within seconds I hear footsteps, and then the door swings open and a startled Scarlett Caskey is staring down at me. "Miss me?" I quip.
"Jo!" Throwing her arms around me, she squeezes me in a tight hug. Good enough answer.
"I was hoping you'd be home," I say into her chest.
"What are you doing here?"
"Import/export run." As she releases me, I nod at the wooden contraption to my left. "What's with the ramp?"
"It's for my mom. She's a roller."
That makes me blink. Come to think of it, I don't recall ever seeing Mrs. Caskey standing on TV, but she was always sitting on a couch or a chair. A regular one, I mean. "I had no idea."
Scar shrugs. "You wouldn't. The camera crews went to lengths to hide it. And they've tried to keep her out of the public eye."
"Why?"
"She was injured in a mine collapse. I'm guessing the government doesn't like to advertise the working conditions in the districts." Nodding invitingly into the house, Scar slips back inside. After kicking my shoes off to add to the pile by the door, I follow her into the kitchen, where I find her rooting around in the fridge. "You want a beer?"
"Sure."
Barely looking back, she tosses me a dark brown glass bottle over her shoulder. Her aim is impeccable, and I barely have to make an effort to catch it. As I run my thumb over the graphics on the printed label reading Black Hawk Brewery, she straightens up with one in her own hand. "Capitol import."
"You can just order them in any time you want?" I ask as she digs through a drawer.
"No, but if I'm ever in the Capitol on business, I can bring back whatever I like." She turns wielding a bottle opener and an ironic smile. "Being a victor has its privileges."
I'm about to ask her what kind of business they'd need her for when another female voice echoes in from the living room. "Scarlett? Who is that?" The rolling sound that follows makes clear the speaker's identity.
When her mother turns the corner into the kitchen, Scar nods at me. "Mom, this is my friend Jo. From the program."
The woman's face lights up. "Oh, Jo! I've heard so much about you."
Arching an eyebrow, I glance over at Scar. "Have you?" She elbows me in the ribs.
Wheeling closer, Mrs. Caskey gives me a friendly smile. "Would you kids like a sandwich?"
That sounds wonderful after days of canned rations, but her daughter waves away the offer before I can answer. "No, Mom, we're just gonna head up to the roof. Thanks, though."
As I follow Scarlett back to the front door to grab our shoes, I inquire, "The roof?"
"Just in case," she whispers. "Never know who's listening." My face falls. I hadn't even thought of the possibility that the victors' houses are bugged. And I probably should have, before accepting Katniss's offer. But oh well… if they know, they know. Can't do anything about it now, other than hope my optimism was not clueless.
Scar leads me up the stairs and through the master suite, out onto a veranda facing the mountain rising up behind the house. "Hold my beer." Bracing a foot on the railing, she boosts herself up onto the roof. Handing her both bottles, I follow suit, accepting her hand to help pull me up onto the shingles.
Once we're settled on the peak of the roof and looking out over the Village, the river and the town beyond, she pops the cap off her beer and hands over the bottle opener. While I wrestle with my own bottle, she gives my foot a playful nudge with her toe. "So, you meet any hot Peacekeeper boys up in Twelve?" She wiggles her eyebrows. "Peacekeeper girls?"
Smirking inwardly, I take a long chug to create a dramatic pause. "I'm dating Katniss Everdeen, actually."
Scar chuckles in a way that makes it abundantly clear she thinks I'm full of shit. Until it registers how straight my face is, and her eyes go wide. "You're not serious."
"Completely. That lovestruck act didn't fool you, did it?"
"It seemed a little off," she admits. "And I did wonder how she knew you. And knew about Clove. Thought maybe you two were friends." A grin creeps onto her lips. "I'm so jealous."
My eyes narrow curiously. "You're into girls?" I've never gotten that impression before.
"I mean, once in a while," she shrugs, blushing only a little. "And besides, who doesn't want the girl on fire?" Her eyes lose focus as she frowns. "She's lucky she has that fake boyfriend."
"What?"
"Never mind." Cupping and shaking my knee, she urges me, "Tell me more. What's her favorite food? Favorite color? Most overused phrase?" When I only stare, she explains, "I'm a huge fan of hers. Like if I'd had the balls to approach her at the Victory Banquet, I might've asked her to sign my ass." I've never known Scar to be so crass, but I decide not to question it. It's probably been weird getting used to celebrity life.
"Um, cheese buns and that lamb stew in the Capitol," I finally reply. "Green. Probably 'Fuck you, Mason.' And it's a good thing you didn't, because she's no fan of yours." Scar's brow furrows, and my shoulders sag as I deliver the news. "You killed one of her classmates."
What's left of her smile falls off her face. "Toley Crawford," she utters solemnly.
"You remember?"
"Fifteen years old. Five-foot-five, ninety-seven pounds. Scored a four in training. Sixty to one odds. Third to die that year, lasting a measly fifty-two seconds." Her jaw twitches. "My first." Eyes dropping to the roof, she mumbles, "I remember all of them."
"All the tributes? Or all your kills?"
"The kills, mostly," admits Scarlett, dragging her nails through the moss sprouting from the shingles. "It stays with you."
The chill in her voice makes me shift uncomfortably beside her. "They always said we'd get over it."
"Maybe we do, eventually." Finally looking up, she confesses, "But for now, they visit me when I sleep. I see their faces, feel their blood spraying my skin. Taste it in my mouth. I wake up screaming." Her forlorn eyes settle on the horizon. "I think you were the lucky one, Jo."
It would be tactless to say I agree with her. Not that tact has ever been my strong suit. Still, I let that assertion go unconfirmed. Wrapping my arms around my shins, I rest my chin on my knees and join her in staring off into the distance. Long moments later, I break the silence. "Katniss is having a really hard time."
"I'd imagine so."
The uncharacteristic bluntness in her tone causes me to look over, take in the hard lines of her face. "Is there anything I can do to help her?"
Scarlett releases a scoff that comes out more sounding more like a sigh. "You can't make this go away, Jo."
"I know. But if there's anything I can do to make her feel alive, or even just like she's not alone…"
Scar purses her lips. "If anyone knows what she's going through, it's Haymitch and Peeta." Glancing up, she cracks, "He must be your favorite person ever."
"And I'm his," I deadpan in return.
Her eyes pop wide open. "Peeta knows?" When I nod, she scoffs again, this time with heart. "You'd better fucking hope he's trustworthy."
"He's a good kid. Kind of an entitled little bitch, but he's kind, and he cares about her. He wouldn't do anything to hurt her."
Scar doesn't question this, just shakes her head at the absurdity of it all. "Look, the best advice I can give is to not treat her differently. If you tiptoe around her, it's just going to make her feel more detached."
Blinking hard, I counter, "I think I have to. I already made her flip her shit once by grabbing her from behind."
"Well that was a very stupid thing to do to a victor," she spits, a sudden spark in her otherwise dead eyes. As my jaw slackens at the uncharacteristic outburst, she softens her expression in apology. "Look, just don't be hesitant with affection. Don't ask her every thirty seconds if she's okay. She's not, and usually it's easier to try not to think about it. It's better to try to help her forget."
I snort. "Could you ever forget?"
"I mean for the moment," she clarifies. "Distract her, do fun things with her. Whatever you guys like to do."
"We used to like shooting," I muse, "but sometimes it gives her flashbacks now." Shooting a bow, that is. Hm, maybe another round with a firearm would do her good. Following that train of thought further, I say aloud, "Could take her to the lake outside the fence. She's a great swimmer, loves showing off."
Scar's lips tighten in a weak smile, eyes falling again. "She's lucky she has you. Some of us are really isolated. Have to try to drink or fuck the pain away." Picking at the label on her bottle, she admits, "It only kind of works."
Nudging her side, I purr, "That's not a bad idea, either."
Snort muffled by her closed lips, Scar turns to me again with a more genuine smile. An affectionate one. "You haven't changed, have you?"
"I have. Just not that part." When I hold out my bottle, she chuckles and clinks it with hers. "Cheers."
Shaking her head, she puts the beer to her lips. "Cheers."
***o***
Two beers and two hours later, I'm back at the station, geared up, and ready to go. But Purnia is none of those things. When it's 4:40 and there's still no trace of her yet, I start to worry. I'm considering putting a call out among our comrades in town to look for her when I spot a cab pulling up to the station through two sets of windows. As Purnia jumps out and hustles toward the building, I shake my head in a mix of exasperation and relief. I'm waiting on the tracks as she pushes through the door onto the platform. "Where the hell have you been?" I bark, grabbing her sleeve as she tries to blow by me. "We were supposed to leave ten minutes ago."
"Fucking cab was late," she scowls, ripping her arm away. "Get off my back."
My jaw drops for a second, but I snap it shut and follow her up the steps into the hallway containing our quarters. "Wow, what's with the role reversal, Agent?"
"Shut up, Mason," she shoots over her shoulder, a slight catch in her voice.
Curious, I grab her one more time, spinning her around as she reaches her door. Confirming the moisture in her eyes, I'm about to ask if she wants to talk about it when I notice more in her hair. Tears over leaving. Poorly-dried hair. The pieces come together.
"Did you get fucked?" I gasp. Purnia's eyes bulge and she shushes me urgently, dragging me into her room. Once she's slid the door shut, I tease her, "Visiting family, my ass." I whistle. "You have a boy in every port, don't you, Stark? What would Jason say?"
"Trust me," huffs Purnia, "Jason doesn't wanna know."
My eyebrows arch. "Quite an arrangement you have there. I've underestimated you."
She snorts, looking away. "Oh, you have no idea."
My curiosity piqued once again, I squint at my CO. "What's his name?"
"Like I'd tell you."
"Why not?" I press. "I haven't said a word about your other boyfriend."
"You weren't supposed to know about Jason either," she snaps. "You only know because you're nosy."
"You're the one who left the door open while you were having phone sex. Not really my fault."
"I was not having phone sex!" she protests. Her fists clench at her sides, a flush creeping up her neck. "God, Mason, I'm really sick of your shit. Get out of my room."
"But-"
"Out!"
Purnia's similarly cranky for the rest of the day. Over dinner I tell her to cheer up, maybe she'll get a trip to Four soon enough. She just glares at me. That night, I think I might hear her crying. If she is, it's very muffled, and I could just be imagining it. She seems back to normal in the morning, so I decide that must have been it. It's better to think that, anyway. As much as I love getting under her skin, I wouldn't know what to do with a truly distraught Purnia.
***o***
Mrs. Everdeen is sitting at the kitchen table when I get home early Tuesday afternoon. From the jars spread out on the table, I'm guessing it's another inventory day. She'd better not be counting on Katniss making a herb run. I have other plans. When she looks up, I give a tentative wave. "Hi, Mrs. E."
She responds with a nod and a warm smile. "Welcome home, Johanna. You have a good trip?"
"Yeah, it was all right," I shrug, fiddling with the strap of my duffel bag. "We had a stopover in Two, so I got to visit an old friend."
Watching me work my feet out of my shoes, she pries, "No family?"
"They're in another village."
"Too bad."
"Yeah." Biting my lip, I stand there awkwardly. Normally I'm all for charming Mrs. Everdeen with my good manners, but after six days away I'm hoping she can forgive my impatience. "Katniss home?"
Smirking to herself, she nods at the ceiling. "Upstairs."
"Thanks." As I'm passing the table, I pause long enough to add, "It's nice to see you."
She shakes her head, seemingly amused. "I know you're not here to see me. She's been mopey all week. Please go cheer her up."
Grinning, I raise my hand in a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am." Making my way through the kitchen, I turn to the stairs and take them as quickly as I can, given the load I'm bearing.
I'm just reaching for our bedroom door when it flings inward and Katniss yanks me into her body. I stumble slightly, but she holds me upright with her strong arms. All but squeezing the life out of me, she puts her lips to my ear. "I missed you so much."
When she finally releases me enough to let me breathe, I infer, "You heard me talking to your mom?"
Katniss shakes her head, an affectionate smile gracing her lips. "I recognized your footsteps."
This makes my heart swell for some reason, and I push up on my toes to kiss her, dropping the bag on the floor. Fingers tracing her jaw, I hum into her mouth and give her lip a tiny nip. Her hands slip under my shirt to rest on my waist as she deepens the kiss, eyes going dark. Nails gently scraping my flesh, she pulls my hips forward to contact hers, rolling her own forward. Though the sudden pleasant hum of sensation between my legs is sapping my brain power, the gesture also reminds me of something. "Oh, hey," I interject between kisses, "I got you something."
"A present, huh?" Giving my ribs a little poke, she teases me, "You know, you don't need to do that anymore. I'm richer than you now."
"Much. But you don't have the power to order things in from other districts. I do, but I was in Two anyway, so." Squatting to dig in my bag, I fish out the package I bought in town before heading back to the station. "Though I hear you can bring stuff back from the Capitol - remember that for your Tour." Eyeing me curiously as I stand, Katniss takes the nondescript brown cardboard box. While she picks at the tape holding it shut, I finally think to close the door. Just in time. "Sorry, the skin tone's kind of off. Apparently only really pale or really dark people exist in the Capitol."
"Skin tone?" Katniss's face only grows more confused as she withdraws and peers at the plastic-wrapped dildo inside. After a couple seconds, she suddenly recoils and drops it back in the box. "Hanna, what the fuck?"
"What?"
"Is this a joke?" she demands. "What am I supposed to do with this?"
"You're supposed to wear it, brainless."
Her brow crinkles. "Wear it?" Chuckling to myself, I pull the whole thing out of the box so she can see the attached harness. Then ripping the plastic off the dildo itself, I hold it to my pelvic bone and cock a suggestive eyebrow. Far from the reaction I'm hoping for, Katniss's face falls. "Look, I know things haven't been easy lately, but I'm trying. If I'm not enough for you-"
"Whoa, no," I interject. "It's not because I like boys. That has nothing to do with it."
The hurt in her expression turns to incredulity and she nods at my waist. "It kind of looks like that has everything to do with it."
"Really," I assure her. "It's fun, but I can do without. I got it because I thought you'd enjoy it, and maybe it would help with that problem you've been having." Handing it back to her, I wink, "You do love… grinding against me." Rolling my hips a little for effect, I grin and give her my best bedroom eyes. And then I watch as arousal slowly conquers hers. They migrate from my waist to the apparatus in her hand and then back to my body. By the time they catch mine again, they're dark and wanting and her mouth has slipped open with unchecked desire. That hungry stare forces a swallow out of me.
"Take your pants off," she commands me abruptly, her voice even deeper and rougher than usual, thick with lust. My eyes widen as I feel my entrance pulse, the desire burning there and the abundant wetness rushing out of me just from that one short sentence.
My hands fly to my belt and fumble with the buckle, suddenly trembling and inept. They encounter similar problems with the zipper pull, which seems to have shrunken into a miniscule and slippery tab. Finally free of any need for fine motor control, at least for now, I slide my thumbs down inside the waistbands of my underwear and pants and push them down in one fluid motion. Kicking them aside, I straighten back up to the view of Katniss's greedy eyes drinking in the newly exposed flesh. She responds to my smug smirk by thrusting the strap-on into my arms.
"Hold this," she orders me, her hands already unzipping her own pants with a steadiness that only makes mine even sweatier. Still, I need to fight this. I have too much pride to let her see just how in control she really is. It almost frightens me.
"With pleasure," I quip, fingering the appendage lasciviously.
Katniss snorts but shows a hint of a smile as she steps out of her pants. "No doubt."
Instead of returning it to her, I bend down again and hold the harness open, clarifying where she needs to step. She appears surprised by the gesture, but lays a hand on my shoulder for support as she threads her ankles through the mess of straps. Maneuvering them up over her knees and to her pelvis, I hold them there and gawk while she tightens them securely. Unable to help myself, I squeeze the shaft yearningly and let out an involuntary moan, already feeling the phantom sensation of it inside me.
"Lie down." These husky words demand an obedience that I am more than willing to offer. I back up until I feel the mattress brush one of my calves, then feel for the bed behind me and recline back on my elbows. The visual of my girlfriend stalking toward me with an exposed boner makes my eyes want to roll back in my head, but I fight to keep them squarely on her. My mouth goes dry as she crosses her hands over her abdomen to grip her shirt, peel it off. She shakes her hair free and lets it fall to the floor.
As she kneels between my legs, I spread myself wide open for her in a silent but desperate invitation. A silent plea. Katniss licks her lips at the display but otherwise ignores it, crawling forward on her hands to loom over me. It is only now that she kisses me, dipping her head down to meet my craning one. Expertly she slides her left hand around my back and unhooks my bra through my shirt with ease. I've taught her well. I sit up and she follows suit, slipping her hands under my shirt to lift both garments over my head. Discarding them over the side of the bed, she forces me back down with her body, and suddenly I'm quivering with anticipation.
One of Katniss's hands trails over my breast and down the plane of my stomach as we share a heated kiss. She dips her fingers into the wet mess between my thighs, and my hips buck involuntarily at the fleeting contact with my clit. But it's the tantalizing circles she's drawing around my entrance that are truly driving me mad.
"I don't need a warm up," I encourage her through a shaky breath.
"I noticed." I might think she'd completely missed the point if it weren't for the sadistic grin I can feel against my neck as she peppers it with kisses. Each touch drives me further from sanity, and I find myself digging my nails into the flesh of her back. She hisses sharply and begins slowly sweeping a path up over my clit and then back to my aching hole.
"Katniss," I whisper, my voice quaking as badly as my legs. "Katniss, please."
"Please what?" she demands in that deliciously low pitch, lifting her head to look into my desperate eyes. Hers are wide and black with lust, absolutely drunk on power.
I wrap my legs around her pelvis and jerk my hips up, gasping when I feel the tip of her cock glide against my slick runway. "Please," I rasp. "Please fuck me." She returns to lacing kisses under my jaw and I groan painfully. "I want you inside me," I try again. She releases an aroused gasp into my ear, leaving hers right by my mouth. "I need it. I need you."
That's what finally pushes Katniss past her breaking point. Growling, she pulls back enough to see what she's doing as she moves her hand to position her new appendage. She flicks her eyes up to make contact with mine just before she pushes it inside me. A cry of pleasure bursts from my lungs as she fills me in a completely new way. I'm not usually loud, but this is turning me on to an unbelievable extent, and I could already come at any moment. Dominant Katniss tends to have that effect on me, but she's never owned me this way before. But I know firsthand the rush of power that a strap-on can give you, a tangible power you can almost taste. This shouldn't be surprising.
She starts moving her hips and my head tips back into the pillow, following my eyes rolling back in their sockets. Both her hands find purchase on my torso, and before I know it they are holding me down firmly, rolling my nipples as she thrusts in and out of me with abandon. My legs wrap around her hips, assisting the movement. She's deriving a lot of pleasure from this as well, I can tell from the set of her open jaw and the little whines mixed in with her forceful grunts of effort.
"Shit, Katniss," I gasp, bucking my hips to meet hers. "Fuck, I-" That's interrupted by a delicious moan as she changes the angle just a bit and hits my G-spot. Now I'm incapable of voicing anything other than unintelligible noises, but I don't need to tell her how close I am anyway. She knows.
A string of squeals and whines leave my lips as Katniss continues to pound away at me mercilessly, driving ever deeper. A few larger moans break through, and it's with one of these that I remember something and suddenly pale. "Shit," I exhale, snapping my head up. She squints questioningly and I remind her, "Your mom's downstairs." Another hard thrust pushes a whimper out of me and I dig my teeth into her shoulder to muffle anything else. I feel fingers threading into my hair, then a wonderful shot of pain as she squeezes them into a fist. My head is suddenly wrenched back and I'm looking into her eyes again. They're still narrow, but only with intensely focused desire. She speeds her hips up impossibly more, firmly holding my head in place.
"So what?" she scoffs breathlessly. Dipping her lips down to my ear, she growls, "This is my house."
My eyes roll back again as a wave of blinding pleasure crashes into me, pulling me under, drowning me. I almost lose my sense of where or even who I am for a few blissful seconds, but I'm aware of myself screaming her name as though I am on death's doorstep and she is the one person who can save me. Probably because that's what it feels like. There's a lot of curses and moans mixed in there too, and if I had some shred of hope that our activities had gone undetected before, it's surely destroyed now. Not that I am capable of caring at the moment.
Katniss gradually slows her movements as my pulses die down and I return to some level of useful consciousness, kissing down my neck and over my collarbones. Her breath on my skin is a special kind of bliss in this heavenly moment, and I trace my fingers over her skin in return. She glances up and, seeing I'm somewhat recovered, starts to pull out. In a flash I cinch my legs around her, holding her fast. I tighten my muscles around her a few more times, continuing to ride it out, and she must feel it because her eyes flutter shut and she moans. A small tug on her upper arm convinces her to relax on top of me, and I wrap my limbs around the girl, entwined with her in every way possible.
I comb my fingers through the long bangs framing my girlfriend's face while she lies quietly, listening to my heart and lungs recover. After a moment, I manage a raw chuckle. "Damn, Everdeen. What have I unleashed?" Her smirk into my chest is cut short by a twitch of her hips that pulls the smile right off her face. Chuckling again, I wind some strands of hair around my finger. "I guess I should take care of you, shouldn't I?"
She looks up, once again displaying the desire burning in her eyes. "Yes," she rasps.
Cupping her cheek, I pull her up for a kiss. It starts a little slow because I've just come down, but very quickly ramps up into another torrid embrace. I'm deliberating just how to return the favor when she spasms again, inadvertently moving the cock inside of me. Then I get an idea.
Pushing Katniss up into a sitting position, I start to ease myself backward. She gets the message and gently pulls her hips back, slipping it out of me. Groaning, I force myself to focus. Her brow furrows as she watches me slide off the bed and onto my knees, then arches when I grab her waist and pull her to the edge of the mattress. Far from unfamiliar with this position, she moves her hands to loosen the straps, but I intercept them. Puzzled charcoal eyes go huge as I take the dildo into my mouth, casting her a lewd gaze.
This isn't just for her benefit, admittedly. I fucking love tasting myself on her. My eyes fall closed as I swirl my tongue around to clean it all up. Bobbing my head a little for effect, I rake my nails down her inner thighs. An involuntary moan escapes my mouth, though muffled by the obstruction, and it's echoed right back at me. My eyes flick up in surprise and see hers have gone black as night and zeroed in on me with an intensity that immediately makes my pussy throb again. I moan again experimentally and watch as her features contort with pleasure while her hips buck and drive it deeper into my mouth. Well, well. The idea was to give Katniss a momentary hot visual before eating her out, but if she's this turned on by it, why not draw it out?
Grinning as best I can, I move one hand to her shaft and press the other against her pubic bone. I glide my thumb over to find her clit and my eyes bulge as I discover she's absolutely oozing, soaking the bedspread and immediately coating the digit. I can't wait to taste her, but for now, I settle for massaging the burning, pulsing little organ. Katniss cries out in what sounds like pleasure with an undertone of surprise, trembling at my touch. Looking up again, I discover her mouth has dropped open.
Stroking my hand up and down the extra length, I hold her scorching gaze and work up some saliva to exaggerate the wet sounds of suckling and licking, letting them mix with my visceral noises of arousal. I'm swirling my tongue around the head again when she palms the back of my skull, urging me to take her in deeper. Not about to argue, I swallow up as much of her as I can and suck harder, speeding up both my hands. Katniss has to plant one hand behind her to hold herself up as she starts gasping and whining, grabbing a handful of hair again and guiding my head as she wishes.
Katniss's grip on my hair tightens tremendously as she aggressively aids my motion, getting progressively louder. "Hanna. Hanna, fuck. Oh my god. Ugh, Johanna!" My eyes are starting to sting from the pain when her hips stutter against my hand and she shouts an even longer string of obscenities. I don't let up as she rides it out, convulsing and screaming, her hand quaking but still jerking me around. Finally it ebbs and she loses momentum, now moaning between sharp gasps for sweet oxygen. Her fingers relax and she lets herself fall back on the bed, still babbling, "Oh my god, oh my god."
With the pain now relieved in my scalp, my attention turns to other areas that need relief. There's still a strong pulse between my legs, and I am very aware of my own cum dribbling down my thighs. But an orgasm is not what I crave most right now. My eyes lock on Katniss, how she's lying back with her hands covering her eyes, trying to regain a grip on reality. I hadn't even realized just how close she was to coming, and I'd still hoped to finish her off with my tongue. On her actual body, I mean. Of course, I still can.
Standing up on my knees with purpose, I immediately go for the harness straps. Katniss slides her hands off her face, but before she can figure out what's going on, I'm ripping the whole setup off of her. I pitch it aggressively over the bed just as she asks, "What are you–"
"I didn't get to taste you," is all the explanation needed. Pulling her hips toward me, I drape her knees over my shoulders and immediately bury my mouth and nose in the delicious sight and smell. My hands slide up her stomach and worm under her bra to roll her nipples. Arching up, she grabs my left hand and guides it to her back to remove the offending garment. I'm not going to argue. The soft flesh and stiff peaks feel amazing in my palms, and I sweep my thumbs over them as I explore her folds with my tongue. But I have only moments to savor her juices before her whimpers of frustration and nails piercing my scalp demand I turn my attention elsewhere.
She's still worked up, I can tell from the way her hips shake the second I make contact with her clit, from the desperate moans already spilling from her lips. So I make quick work of her, fluttering my tongue as fast and as hard as I can, not bothering to come up for breath until just before I wrap my lips around her. I suck with all the force I can muster, still licking at a bruising pace, and groan with approval when I feel her suddenly pulse under my tongue as the rest of her body jolts.
Katniss emits a loud moan and then a sustained cry that warbles with her body. Then she finds words. "Johanna! Oh my god, Johanna. Shit! I…" That's cut off by another moan from the aftershocks, which my tongue is still helping drag out. When she quiets down a bit, I go in for my dessert, slurping up all that leaked out during that latest orgasm.
My one hand drops between my legs before the other even finishes wiping the residue from my lips. I'm aching, trembling with need, and I can't wait a second longer. The wet noises echo throughout the room as I rub myself furiously, and that's enough to bring Katniss back. She gawks dumbly for a few seconds before waving me over. "Come here," she commands me huskily.
Needing no second prompt, I scramble onto the bed and her waiting mouth. "Finish me," I breathe, just as her greedy tongue darts out to sweep through my folds. She doesn't waste time like I did, though. After just a couple teasing laps and one plunge into my hole, she's sucking hard, then flicking at a blistering pace, and then sucking again. Her nails dig into my backside as she continues to alternate back and forth.
She does as I asked in under a minute, easily. My hips gyrate over her mouth like they have a mind of their own as her name falls from my lips again and again. My legs quake madly, and most of my weight is about to end up on her face when I fall forward and brace my forearms on the mattress, moaning and flinching at her continued work. Katniss groans contently as she drinks every drop that comes out of me.
Eventually she gives my ass a playful little slap, signalling she's done. Unsteadily crawling back down her body, I flop down and rest my head on her chest, listening to her pounding heart as we come down. I still thank god or fate or whatever every day that it's still beating. Fingers of one hand tracing over the prominent muscles in my back, she brushes the other over my crown and leaves a kiss on my hairline. With a contented hum, I burrow deeper.
Thinking back over our previous activities, I grin into her chest. "Jeez, Everdeen, I didn't know you had penis envy."
Katniss wrinkles her nose. "What does that mean?"
"That you wish you had one."
"What?" she all but gasps, pushing up onto her elbows. She looks so scandalized, I almost laugh out loud. "I do not!"
Raising an eyebrow, I nod to the edge of the bed."You sure liked that."
"It was hot, being able to see what you were doing for once. Doesn't mean I actually want one. Gross."
That grin of mine only grows wider. "Yeah, you know, I don't think I'm worried about Peeta anymore." Katniss scoffs but offers no argument, lying back down on the mattress. Leaning closer, I give her a tentative sniff. "You need a shower."
"And whose fault is that?" she sasses me, clearly not catching my drift. So I stand and offer her a hand. Still, it's a few seconds until her eyebrows arch in understanding. "Oh, together. Right, that's a thing."
An involuntary chuckle turns my lips upward. "Yes, it's a thing, brainless." Not that we've really had the chance before. We've only been living together a short time, and it's not something I would have tried in the barracks. Plus, I'm not really into shower sex; it's awkward and not worth the effort. Shower make outs, on the other hand, I am partial to. Turns out, Katniss enjoys them as well. Or the lazy post-coital kind, anyway.
Both of us now tuckered out, when we're done we decide to settle in for an afternoon nap. She doesn't argue when I put her into little spoon position, wrapping her up and placing tiny kisses behind her ear. Though I'm exhausted, I don't allow myself to drift off until her breathing goes shallow, indicating sleep.
How long we sleep, I am not sure, but a series of little bumps against my body eventually wakes me. Apparently still asleep, Katniss is jerking around, balled up with muscles clenched. "Hey, Katniss!" I call, giving her a shake after backing up a little, not wanting to get swatted. "Katniss, wake up!" A couple shakes later, she jolts upright and whips her head from side to side, panting hard. "Hey, hey, it's okay," I tell her, scooting closer to wrap my arms around her loosely. "You're with me, it was just a nightmare."
Pushing out a heavy breath, Katniss grips one of my forearms and gives it a grateful squeeze. She leans to the side to rest her head on my shoulder and I rub a soothing thumb up and down over her belly. As she calms her breathing, she looks up with a sad smile. "Thanks, Johanna. You made me forget for a while." Swallowing hard, she drops her eyes to the blankets. "Forget everything."
Things do get easier, in time. But even as the months pass and her mood improves, there's something behind her eyes that rarely goes away. It's the same hollowness I saw in Scar's eyes on TV and on the rooftop. Katniss has seen things she can't unsee. Done things she can't undo. And as much as I hate to admit it, Scar was right. There's nothing I can do to make it go away. All I can do is try to drown it out. Make it tolerable.
A/N: I'm moving next week, so there may be some delays in updates for this and other stories for a bit. Thanks in advance for your patience. :)
Thanks to D7P for the beta read and suggestions, helpful as always.