Rio de Janiero 2016

Peeta

On Saturday evening, I hear a soft knock, and I open my door to see Katniss. My heart thumps loudly in my chest, even though I saw her only a few months ago. We see each other every now and then. But this, this time, might mean something more. I can sense it.

"Hey," she says softly, sadly.

"C'mere," I say and pull her into a hug. We stay that way for a few moments.

"Thanks," she says, pulling back, and looking at the room. "Where's your roommate?"

"Off somewhere, I don't know," I answer. "Probably exploring the Olympic Village. Or eating," I tease. It's not fair. "He wrestles 125 kilogram freestyle."

"Thresh?" Katniss asks, and I nod, smiling. "We qualified by the way," she continues. She gives a small smile. "For the women's team finals tomorrow."

"That's great!" I grin. "Congratulations! Knew you would."

She smiles shyly, but then her smile fades, and she looks away. "It doesn't feel the same," she murmurs. "Not without her."

"She'd be proud of you, I know," I say seriously.

"Maybe," she sighs.

"She definitely would be," I insist.

Katniss just shrugs. "Do you want to hang out?" she asks, and my heart leaps. "You don't have any more training today, do you?"

"No more training until tomorrow," I say with a smile. "Want to watch a movie on my tablet? I put a lot of movies on there."

"Sure," she says.

We sit on the bed together, as I scroll through the movie options, before we decide on Jurassic Park. We're just to the part when they arrive on the island, when Katniss asks, "Is it okay if we lie down? I'm not comfortable."

"Sure," I reply. We shift longways and lie back. I hold out my arm, and Katniss nestles into my shoulder, just like we used to do. I wonder if she can hear my heart pounding, but she doesn't pull away. We watch the movie in silence, undisturbed, and as it ends, Katniss stifles a yawn.

"Want to watch another movie?" I ask, not wanting her to leave yet.

"No," she says, "but can I stay here tonight?"

I'm only somewhat surprised, certain that she can also feel the emotions and memories swirling. I blink at her, my heart thumping loudly, and say thickly, "Always."

We climb under the covers and Katniss snuggles up to me. I hesitantly smooth her hair with my fingers, and she sighs, eyes closed. We fall asleep. The next morning, Thresh smirks at me, but says nothing.

Katniss and I go to her women's team finals, and I watch as Katniss, Rue, and Madge win gold again. There's a larger media presence than the last Games, and the newscasters have started calling them the 'golden trio.' Katniss avoids the press, letting Rue and Madge answer the questions, keeping her privacy. But she weeps openly on the medal platform, and my heart goes out to her. She's surely thinking of Prim and what happened this time four years ago. She lets me dry her eyes after, and we even somewhat enjoy ourselves in the dining hall later, eating lunch and celebrating with her teammates. She and I go our separate ways for the afternoon, she to recoup and me to train, but we see each other again in the evening. She asks to stay with me again, and we curl up together to sleep.

She spends the days competing in women's individual preliminary rounds, and I spend them training. At night, she climbs in bed with me, and we fall asleep in each other's arms.

On Wednesday night, though, something is different. My roommate is gone, and Katniss trails her fingers across my chest and down my abs before reaching up to my face. She slowly caresses my cheek, then pulls my chin down until our lips meet. We kiss deeply, but languidly, as if half-caught in a dream. I wrap her slowly in my arms, my fingers stroking her back, our lips locked in a heated rhythm. My hands dip lower, and Katniss whimpers against my mouth. I moan in response, and she hooks her leg over my hip. All of a sudden, she's straddling me, and I'm panting.

"Are you sure?" I stammer.

"Yes," she says, smiling.


After, as our breathing returns to normal, I whisper, "I love you."

"I love you, too," Katniss whispers back.


In the morning, we go to Katniss' individual archery quarterfinals, and I watch as she slays the competition. The final round has just begun, when someone takes the empty seat beside me.

"This seat taken?" asks Gale.

I shrug, and he sits down. There's an awkward silence. We watch as Katniss shoots her first arrow. Bullseye. The Americans in the stands cheer, and the tension between Gale and I is somewhat relieved by our clapping for Katniss and Team USA.

"I hate myself for it, you know," Gale says abruptly as we sit back down. We both know what he's talking about. I'm silent. "She forgave me," Gale sighs. "Even though I don't deserve it." I think back to a year ago when Katniss called me to say she'd forgiven Gale. She had been terribly upset, and I had thought it may have been too soon for her to do that, even though I'm glad she did, to help her move on. But Gale's right. He doesn't deserve her forgiveness. We all know he doesn't regret it, no matter how bad he feels about it. He would do it again if he had to. For Olympic archery gold.

Gale sighs again, glancing at me. "So you and Katniss, huh?" he asks, a somewhat pained expression on his face. "I always knew it'd be you."

Did he now? I feel a bubble of anger burst inside me. "How about yourself?" I ask pointedly.

"Engaged actually," sys Gale quietly.

I'm surprised for a moment. Then I say, "Congratulations," trying to soften the hardness of my voice. It doesn't really work.

"Thanks," says Gale, subdued. "We're happy together."

I nod, before giving him a brief smile. "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks. I'm happy for you, too."

Another cheer goes up from the audience, and we turn our attention to the archery field to see Katniss' second arrow is a perfect 10.

"She's something else," says Gale.

"Best in the world," I add.

"Aren't you as well?" Gale asks, turning towards me.

I keep my eyes on Katniss as she loads her last arrow and pulls back the bowstring. "I'll let you know after the freestyle wrestling finals next Friday," I say with a smile, and Gale chuckles.

The arrow flies into the bullseye for the third time, and the crowd roars. Katniss lowers her bow and Cinna hugs her tight. She wipes away tears as reporters converge on her. It's the first U.S. women's individual gold medal won since the 1970s, and the American media is eating it up. Katniss is unable to avoid the press this time and stumbles through their interview questions, wincing at their use of Cinna's endearment, 'Girl on Fire.' She escapes to the medal ceremony, where she stands stoically, hand on her heart, listening to the national anthem. I turn to Gale, only to realize that he's gone. I sigh, relieved.

Later, Katniss and I bypass the parties throughout the Olympic Village, hand in hand, heading for my room. Thankfully, my roommate isn't there. We kiss feverishly. There are years of pent up tension behind the kissing, and when Katniss puts her hands behind my neck and grips my hair, I practically growl with desire. I grip her tightly before collapsing onto the bed in a lusty heap.

We're hungry for each other, our bodies making up for years of lost time.

"I'm sorry that it took me so long," Katniss murmurs one night.

"I would have still waited for you," I reply seriously.

Katniss looks chagrined, but says, "You don't have to wait any longer." She squeezes my hand, and I pull her closer.

"Katniss," I say softly, my lips close to hers. "This is my last Olympics."

She nods sadly. "I'm sorry, Peeta."

"Don't be," I say hastily, giving her a quick kiss and lying back. "I am so ready to be done with it all. It's been years of strenuous and time-consuming trainings, diets, and matches. I'm so tired, Katniss," I sigh. "Worn out."

"Okay," she whispers, smoothing back my hair.

I roll on my side to face her and take a deep breath. "I'm planning to start a bakery, my own bakery, when I get back from Rio." I watch her face carefully as she takes this in, but she only looks back at me with clear, silvery eyes.

"Where do you want to have your bakery?" she asks calmly, but I can feel her fingers tremble on my chest.

"I was thinking Richmond," I say with a small smile, and she smiles back and gives me a kiss.


Katniss

Peeta and I have become inseparable since the women's archery competition wrapped up. I tag along to his daily trainings, furtively admiring his muscular body and feeling extraordinarily possessive. During these long hours, Peeta tries to include me, easily maintaining a conversation with me while running flat out on a treadmill or waving and smiling at me as he drags resistance weights. He spars repeatedly with some trainers whose sole purpose - it seems to me - is to get clobbered. They do little to fight back so as not to injure Peeta before the freestyle wrestling competition starts. Poor souls. I watch as Peeta flips one over his shoulders and then pins him down, rolling him over. Haymitch blows a whistle and calls it a day.

I've stopped paying attention when I'm startled by sweaty arms encircling me from behind.

"Gotcha," teases Peeta's voice at my ear, and I try to wriggle away from his sweatiness. He doesn't seem to care though, grinning at my mild-revulsion. I squeal as he lifts me up and carries me to the wrestling mat. He flips me over his head in a gentle facsimile of what he'd just done to that poor trainer. Unlike the trainer, I'm cradled carefully as I'm lowered to the floor, but my heart is racing. I'm mildly terrified, even though I know I'm completely safe.

"You're kind of scary," I admit, as Peeta grins down at me.

"Me?" he laughs. "I couldn't hurt a fly. You, on the other hand, are definitely deadly. Have you ever missed a hunting season?"

"No," I scowl.

"Oh no," he says, pretending to be worried, but failing to keep a straight face. "I think I got you got a bit sweaty."

I roll my eyes at him, but I'm not really annoyed. "Whatever. Thankfully, I only shoot deer. But you should keep an eye out - just in case."

"Absolutely terrified," Peeta says, grinning. "Now who's scary?" He sets me on my feet before pulling me close and giving me a long kiss.

The next day, Peeta tells me he wants to take me to see some friends of his that evening. "It's not a party, Katniss," he chuckles, when I hesitate. "It's not even in the Olympic Village. Come on," he coaxes with a smile. "I'd like you to come."

"I was going to go anyways," I assure him, with a smile. "Don't worry."

A couple hours later, we're in an elevator of one of the fanciest hotels in Rio, rising towards what seems like the penthouse. We arrive at the presidential suite, and I balk.

"Who are we meeting, Peeta?" I ask, somewhat alarmed.

He laughs at my expression. "Don't worry, it's not a foreign leader," he teases, raising his eyebrows. "Come on."

I'm not sure what to expect, but I'm definitely not expecting Finnick Odair, who answers the door. He beams at us and ushers us inside. I stumble into the suite, surprised and confused.

"So glad you could come," Finnick is saying happily. "Can I get you anything to eat or drink?"

I shake my head, and Peeta says, "Just water, thanks. Watching my weight before the weigh in."

"Sure thing," says Finnick, smiling, as he gives a glass of water to Peeta. "I'll just, uh," Finnick grins wider, if that's possible, "I'll go get him." Peeta grins back, while Finnick heads across the suite and disappears behind a closed door.

"Hi Peeta," says a soft voice, and I glance to where a lovely woman with wavy dark hair and green eyes is rising from the couch. "And you must be Katniss," she says shyly.

Peeta gives her a hug. "Good to see you, Annie. How are you?"

"Oh, you know," she smiles. "Just getting into the swing of things with a five-month old."

It's then that Finnick returns cradling a baby in his arms.

"I hope you didn't have to wake him," says Peeta hastily.

"Oh, no," says Finnick. "He was just starting to fuss. Let's sit down."

We all sit on the couch, and Peeta sets his glass down to accept the baby from Finnick. I'm taken aback by the look of absolute joy on Peeta's face as he holds the baby tenderly. I feel my chest tighten, and then my heart sink. I watch him as he tentatively touches the baby's tiny fingers. Peeta is wonderful with the baby, coaxing a wide smile and even a gurgling laugh. Finnick and Annie praise his finesse, and I slowly, sadly lean back into the cushions. Thankfully, they're all too preoccupied with the baby to notice my dejection. I had known that Peeta loved kids; he is very attached to his nieces and nephew. But it wasn't until this moment that I was aware just how much he loved children. My heart clenches as I think that he doesn't know my feelings about children. How I've planned on never having them. Not when there's a genetic predisposition to brain cancer.

I make an effort to take a turn holding the baby, and I find myself smiling. The baby smiles back, revealing pink gums. Peeta looks on adoringly, and I feel my heart break a little when I think that I'll have to tell him.

I'm quiet in the taxi back to the Olympic Village.

"What's wrong, Katniss?" Peeta asks, squeezing my hand.

I'm not ready to tell him yet, so I say, "I didn't know you knew Finnick Odair."

"Yeah, we've been friends for a few years now, but we don't often see each other. I didn't tell you, because I didn't think you'd approve." He gives me a smirk. "But he's not what he seems. Don't you think?"

"Yeah," I agree.

We're both quiet for a little while. After we have gotten through security at the Olympic Village, Peeta asks, "Are you going to tell me what's really bothering you?"

"I don't want children," I blurt out. I quickly look away so as not to see his disappointment.

He's silent for a moment, and then he grabs my hand. I still won't look at him, so he cups my chin and lifts up until our eyes meet.

"It's okay, Katniss," he says, then purses his lips.

"No, it's not," I say, tears pricking my eyes. "You - you want kids... babies."

Peeta is silent again, absently stroking my chin with his thumb. "Perhaps we can revisit this another time," he says slowly.

"Peeta," I say desperately. "I'm not risking our children getting cancer."

Saying 'our children' has had an effect on Peeta. I see him mouth the words 'our children,' and a small smile edge onto his face. I try to tug him back to reality.

"Cancer, Peeta!" I exclaim. "Any children of mine could get cancer. Like my dad... and Prim."

"You can't be sure of that, Katniss," he says.

"I'm sure enough not to risk it," I retort.

"Katniss, I don't want to rush things - we're just finding our footing right now. It's a bit soon to be talking about kids, okay? We've not even talked about... marriage. Let's just focus on being together finally. The rest can wait."

I know he's lying. He's been waiting for years. He'd love to rush things. "Peeta, you know that's not true."

He sighs, then puts both hands on my shoulders, squeezing gently. "What's true is that I'm in love with you, Katniss, and all I want is to be with you - more than anything. Always. Even if that means no kids. You're all that matters. Am I hoping you'll change your mind at some point? Yes. But if you don't, that's okay, too."

"I just don't want you to resent me later," I say, and my chin trembles.

"I could never resent you, Katniss," he assures me. He leans in for a kiss. As his lips press against mine, and he wraps me in his arms, I wonder if I could change my mind about children.

Maybe I could.

The rest of the week passes without mention of children. I still go along to all of Peeta's trainings, and when he's not training, we sight-see around Rio. We ask a tourist to take a picture of us at the feet of Christ the Redeemer. We sit in the sand on Copacabana Beach, and I totally go for a swim, although Peeta balks because of the warnings to Olympic visitors about the water contamination.

"Come on," I wheedle. "Just your toes."

"Nah," he smiles. "Unlike you... I haven't competed yet, Katniss. You're free to risk your health willy-nilly," he smirks.

"Oh, Peeta," I roll my eyes. "Just don't swallow it."

He won't budge though, sitting on one of the towels we brought while I run through the waves.

Friday arrives, and Peeta is business-like as he approaches the competition. No visible nerves, simply dispatching his opponents with efficiency. I sit in the stands with Finnick, Annie, and their baby, his tiny ears carefully protected from the roar of the crowd with miniature sound-cancelling headphones. In between fans approaching Finnick for an autograph or selfie, we watch as Peeta makes it to the final round.

"Atta boy, Peeta!" Finnick hollers when Peeta is announced as entering the final round to face Brutus Vaitkus of Lithuania. "You got this!"

Annie has just returned from the restroom to change the baby, and I offer to hold him. She smiles, a little relieved, as she hands him over. I hold him close, bouncing him a little as he's fussing in the transfer from Annie to me. I check his headphones are secure, then turn my attention to the mat below.

Peeta and Brutus circle each other, seeking an opening. Brutus makes the first move, charging at Peeta and and grappling with him. Peeta is dominant, though, and Brutus can't gain the upper hand. Seemingly with ease, Peeta flips him over his shoulder, holding Brutus down, before rolling him over one - two - three times. It adds insult to injury, but it wracks up the points. Rounds two and three don't go much better for Brutus, with repeat performances except for the double-leg takedown in the final round. Brutus can't mask his frustration, as Peeta is handily declared the winner.

The arena cheers, then gasps as Peeta takes off across the mat, bounding up into the stands. I'm wide-eyed and startled as he reaches me and wraps his arms around me and the baby, pressing kisses to my cheek. Finnick and Annie laugh and clap. I catch a glimpse of the jumbo-tron where we're all clearly visible. I bounce the baby again as he starts to cry from all the chaos. Peeta strokes the baby's cheek before clasping Finnick's hand, and giving Annie a hug.

"Congratulations, man," grins Finnick. Annie smiles and nods in agreement. She takes the baby back and pops a pacifier in his mouth. Peeta kisses me full on the mouth before disappearing down the stairs to the medal ceremony. I stand blinking, stunned and speechless, vaguely aware that all eyes are on me.

The cameras return to Peeta, though, for the medal ceremony. He beams as the gold medal is placed around his neck, and his eyes find mine as the national anthem begins. He's surrounded by reporters after the ceremony, as they had been unable to keep up with his foray into the audience. He announces his retirement from wrestling to the surprise and sympathy of the crowd. But Peeta merely smiles and laughs them off, saying it's an honor to have been an Olympian wrestler, but he's more than ready for the next stage of his life. The reporters ask if this has anything to do with Katniss Everdeen, and my face reddens as he just winks at them.

Peeta is jubilant afterward, but brushes off any invitations to celebrate. He thanks Finnick and Annie for coming to see him compete and wishes them a safe trip back to the states. We all hug one another and caress the baby's downy head, saying goodbye. We then head to the dining hall where Peeta joyfully eats a cheeseburger and downs a chocolate milkshake.

"No more weigh-ins, no more fasting, ever again," he grins.

I grin back. "Good. Now you can actually eat the cookies and cakes you bake."

"Can't wait," he sighs as he takes another bite.

After eating, we go to my room in the Olympic Village. We switched to mine earlier in the week after Madge left for home, and to give Thresh a break from our overbearing presence. Frankly, I don't think I'll ever be able to look Thresh in the eye again. As soon as we're through the door, Peeta spins me around, kissing me, walking me backwards to the bed. We topple down onto the bed, and Peeta settles between my legs, pressing kisses to my neck.

"God, I love you so much," he croons. He pulls my chin to his for a heated kiss.

When I get my breath back, I murmur, "I love you more."

He gets a glint in his eye before setting about trying to prove that he loves me more.


We walk through Galeão International Airport the next morning, hand in hand, each pulling a suitcase, though Peeta has my archery equipment duffel slung over his shoulder, despite my protestations that I can carry it just fine myself. He's not to be swayed, so I tease, "Missing the Closing Ceremonies again? Why would you ever do that?" I laugh as he actually rolls his eyes.

"You know why," he says smugly. "It'd just be a time-consuming distraction from being with you."

"But it's your last Olympics," I say, any teasing gone from my voice.

"But not yours," he returns with a sideways glance.

I smile at him, and he smiles back. We grip our hands more tightly as we walk toward our flight's gate and shared future.


A/N: Just for the record, neither men's freestyle wrestling 74 kg or women's archery (individual or team) was won by the USA in the Rio Olympics. Iran won freestyle wrestling 74 kg, and, of course, South Korea won both the women's individual and team archery. Guess they need Peeta and Katniss on their teams!

Thank you for reading! I greatly appreciate all the reviews, favorites, and follows! Thank you! The next (and last) chapter will be published in a day or two, instead of a week.