Hello old friends. It's been a while.

…..

80 plus 2.

Peeta took a tray out of the oven, and smiled at the familiar sight of steam rising from the tops of the buns.

Things had certainly changed in Thirteen since Peeta and the other refugees from Twelve had arrived two years earlier. After the Victor's Coup that had deposed President Coin and set up a Rebellion Council led by a former rebel commander named Paylor, the oppressive austerity of the underground district had begun steadily easing. The kind of resource hoarding Coin had enforced may have been necessary during the years when the district was on its own, but now they routinely exchanged goods with other districts that had broken free of the Capitol. Among other things, that meant more freedom for the kitchen workers to make food that actually tasted good, not just food that delivered nutrients efficiently.

It was still a fight, sometimes. The supervisors left over from the Coin regime, people who had lived their whole lives without ever leaving the underground bunker of Thirteen, often did not understand what Peeta, Sae, and other refugee workers were trying to do. This tray of rolls, in particular, had taken three weeks to get approved once Peeta found out that District 10 would be sending them a regular supply of cow's-milk cheese.

Peeta finished emptying the oven, and put the next set of trays in to bake. Working to feed the combined population of natives and refugees that now made up District 13 was quite a step up from working in the small bakery back in Twelve. Thirteen wasn't as large as Twelve used to be, but back home most people couldn't afford to buy bakery bread. Peeta liked this change, even if he'd had to re-work all of his family's recipes to serve many times the number of people.

Peeta glanced out into the dining hall, and just caught the arrival of the squad he'd been waiting for all day. All month, if he was being honest, even before the announcement was made last week that the Nut had finally fallen and troops would soon be rotated home. He'd only gotten word late last night that they were expected back today. There was the victor Johanna Mason, whose abrasive personality he'd heard far too much about. There was Dalton, the man from Ten who knew everything there was to know about breeding cows but nothing at all about cooking them, which was why he was in a military squad rather than in the kitchen with Peeta. And there was Gale Hawthorne. Tall and strong, with an easy smile, no doubt pleased with another job well done. He cut an imposing figure in his military uniform, even if it was the same drab gray everyone in Thirteen wore.

Distracted by his thoughts, Peeta didn't realize where he was until he bumped into the work table in the middle of the room. A loud clang echoed through the room as his prosthetic leg crashed into the steel leg of the table. He cursed himself for his clumsiness, and waived off the concerned looks of his nearby coworkers. After two years with the contraption he could walk and move around without giving his prosthetic a second thought, but that didn't mean he wanted to call attention to it. Peeta collected himself for a moment, and began working out his annoyance on the batch of dough waiting for him on the table.

Peeta was left alone with his thoughts as he worked the dough. He chastised himself for the familiar bloom of envy he felt whenever he thought about Gale Hawthorne for too long. Even the passage of years and their drastic change of circumstances hadn't changed his jealousy of the Seam man, only the reasons behind it. Gale, the ideal model of a Thirteen soldier. Gale, with his two healthy legs, was free to go on military missions and help protect his fellow soldiers. Unlike Peeta, who could only stay behind and worry.

A part of Peeta knew how childish and petty he was being. In his more clear-thinking moments he was glad he'd lost only his leg, and not his life, when the Capitol bombed District 12. And he knew he had Gale, among others, to thank for that. But at times like this, when he had spent six weeks of sleepless nights cursing his own uselessness, it was all too easy to let his worst instincts run away from him.

Another larger part of Peeta knew that he was only wallowing in this jealousy as a way to distract himself. Because there was still one soldier missing from the homecoming he had witnessed in the dining hall earlier.

There was a timer above the oven, but Peeta never used it. He knew how long these took to bake. He took out the new batch of fresh buns and loaded the oven with the next set of trays. As he waited for the rolls to cool enough to be sent out for serving, he chanced another glance out to the dining hall. Gale was seated with his family now. Posy was hugging her oldest brother as they ate, while Vick seemed to be peppering Gale with questions about his latest mission. Vick was still about a month short of his eighteenth birthday, enrolled in training as all teens in Thirteen were but not yet part of a combat squad like Gale and Rory were, and the youngest Hawthorne brother was eager for the chance to emulate his siblings. Peeta knew the feeling, from back when he'd had older brothers.

It occurred to Peeta that Posy had had a birthday while Gale was away. The girl was twelve years old now. If not for Thirteen and the rebellion, her name would be going into a reaping ball this summer. It was important to remember the good that had come from this war; that countless soldiers and ninety percent of District 12 and almost all of District 8 and everyone else who had been sacrificed to the fight against the Capitol hadn't died in vain.

Distracted by these thoughts, he didn't notice the kitchen door opening. And as usual, her footsteps were silent. So her musical voice took him by surprise when she spoke.

"Are those cheesebuns?"

Peeta spun around and was greeted by the most beautiful sight he could imagine: Katniss Everdeen, whole and unharmed, and safely returned home. Peeta sprang forward and threw his arms around her, lifting her clear off the ground in a tight embrace. They got several amused and indulgent looks from the other kitchen workers, but neither of them noticed.

"Peeta!" Katniss said through her own laughs. "Put me down!"

"No," he said, looking up into her silver eyes. "I never want to let go of you again."

Katniss's whole face softened. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and laid her head on his shoulder. "Okay. I'll allow it," she said quietly.

…..

Peeta didn't remember much from the days following the bombing of Twelve. He had been dosed with as much sleep syrup as they'd been able to escape with, because they didn't have any other painkillers for him to take after his amputation. He had nothing but a handful of fuzzy, disjointed images left from those days. The only constant in his fragmented memories was Katniss, always by his side, always holding his hand.

When he finally woke, it was to a whole new world. His leg was gone. His district was gone. His family was gone. He was in a hospital, a real hospital, surrounded by doctors and therapists who all rolled their eyes at his panicked insistence that he wanted to be treated by Mrs. Everdeen. He was in some kind of underground bunker, in a district he'd believed his whole life had been wiped off the map 80 years earlier.

And he suddenly had a girlfriend. If that was even the name for it. Katniss never said anything about the change in their friendship, talking wasn't exactly her style, but she never left his side. And when he was released from the hospital, he found that they shared a residential compartment. At one point, when they were alone in what he was just realizing was their compartment, Peeta hesitated. Katniss seemed to recognize his thought process, and she gave him a hard stare, almost daring him to open his mouth and question their new circumstances. After a moment, Peeta closed his mouth mutely accepted the situation.

And that was that.

…..

Peeta allowed himself until the next batch of cheesebuns had to come of the oven to luxuriate in the feeling of having Katniss in his arms once again, but finally he reluctantly set her down and began retrieving hot trays from the oven. Once the next batch was cooking, he placed two of the fresh buns on a plate and presented them to Katniss.

"Are you sure this is okay?" she asked, even as she reached out and took the plate.

"It's fine, it's not like they send people to Level 39 anymore," Peeta said. "Who do you think I made them for, anyway?"

Katniss ducked her head to hide her blush as she greedily ate the cheesey, pillowy rolls. She had a weakness for cheese buns even at the best of times, but it had been two years since she'd had one. She ate the second one more slowly, however. Even with the recent loosening of the rationing rules, they both knew sneaking her two buns was about the limit of what would be tolerated, so she took her time savoring the second.

They talked as Peeta continued his work and Katniss ate. Peeta tried asking her about how the mission had gone, as he always did, and Katniss deflected all but the most superficial of questions, as she always did. She didn't want to think about her time in combat when she was back in Thirteen, or when she was with Peeta. It was like there were two distinct parts of her life, one part filled with war and battle, and another filled with Peeta, and she didn't like it when the two became intermingled.

Instead she told him about the meeting she had been called into that afternoon as soon as the squad had returned to Thirteen. "They're moving me into a new squad," she said.

"Oh?"

"Some kind of special-weapons sharpshooter squad, they said. I may get to use a bow again."

It made sense. With the Nut now in rebel hands, District 2 would be captured in fairly short order. After that, only the Capitol was left. Thirteen was preparing for the final phase of the war. But in his head, Peeta was worriedly trying to suss out what kind of missions they'd need special-weapons sharpshooters for. "Gale too?" he asked.

"Yeah," Katniss said. "Me, Gale, a handful of Thirteen natives I've never met before…" she trailed off for a moment before finishing her thought. "And Finnick Odair."

Peeta looked up from his work, shocked and a bit worried. "Really?"

Katniss nodded. "Really."

"They thought that was a good idea?" Peeta asked. "I thought the victors were basically in charge now. You'd think they would know to keep the two of you separated."

Very early in their stay in District 13, about a month after the bombing of Twelve, there had been a large assembly in the Collective, a huge room that easily held the thousands who showed up. Not all of the victors had escaped to Thirteen when the rebels crashed the Games, some had been captured by the Capitol. There was to be a Capitol broadcast that night with some of the captured victors, and all of Thirteen had been gathered to watch. Peeta was still learning to use his prosthetic and couldn't walk on it for more than a few minutes, but attendance for the broadcast was mandatory, so Katniss had pushed him to the meeting in a wheelchair.

As it turned out, there was only one victor shown that night: Triton, from District 4, victor of the 78th Hunger Games. The bruised and battered face of the nineteen-year-old victor was shown in a close-up as a narrator read a long list of charges against him: Treason; sedition; murder, which was kind of a funny thing to charge a victor with, Peeta thought. After the charges were read, the camera pulled back to show Triton being lead up onto the gallows by a group of Peacekeepers. They slipped a noose over his head, as the narrator gravely intoned that this should be taken as an example to all of Panem of the fate awaiting anyone who was so foolish as to dare betray the Capitol. Then, without further ceremony, the floor fell away and the rope snapped taut and Triton of District 4 was dead.

For several moments after the screen clicked off, only shocked murmurs could be heard in the Collective. Then one voice pierced the quiet, the voice of a woman with tears running down her face, who had been crushing Peeta's hand from the moment Triton from District 4 had appeared on screen. Into the stunned quiet of the Collective, her voice was clear and distinct. "That was better than he deserved. Rotten bastard."

That was when all hell had broken loose.

The Thirteen natives were mostly just baffled by Katniss's outburst. But the Twelve survivors, almost all of whom were from the Seam, they remembered the murderer of Primrose Everdeen. And while most would have said that the Four man wasn't really at fault, that the Games were the Capitol's fault and even Career tributes shouldn't be blamed too harshly for doing what they needed to do to survive, every single one of them sided with their own when a district of outsiders tried to reproach Katniss for not showing proper sympathy for a murdered rebel.

But by pure happenstance, standing only a dozen feet away from Katniss and Peeta had been a group of victors, including the famous Finnick Odair. Finnick had mentored Triton, had been the one to try to put the boy back together after he became a victor, had coached him through degradations that not even all of the victors knew about, and had been the one to bring him into the rebellion in the first place. In the blink of an eye, Finnick's guilt and grief turned to rage. He pushed his way through the crowd towards Katniss and would have attacked her if others hadn't gotten in his way. Finnick and Katniss screamed curses and invective at each other, blame and recrimination and the kinds of insults that could never be taken back, and nearly sparked a riot when other victors came to Triton's defense and all that was left of Twelve came to Katniss's.

Ever since then, whenever Finnick and Katniss found themselves in the same room, everyone tensed for a fight, even on such innocuous occasions as when they both ate dinner on the same shift. Putting the two of them in the same combat squad, with weapons easily available, seemed to Peeta to be a spectacularly bad idea. "Have you met with him yet?" he asked.

Katniss nodded her head. "Gale made sure to stand between us the whole time."

Well, that was something, Peeta supposed. Even here in supposedly safe Thirteen, Gale was around to protect her when he couldn't. He was at once thankful and jealous of the man, a mix of emotion he was far too familiar with.

As he worked the dough for tomorrow's morning loaves more roughly than he really should have been, he felt Katniss's slim arms wrap around him from behind. He started to back away from the work table, but she stopped him. "Don't bother, it's not worth taking the time to clean your hands off." Peeta disagreed, but he acquiesced to her wishes. It was still hard for her to show affection sometimes, and if it was easier for her when they weren't facing each other then he would accommodate her. She surprised him, though, when she placed two small kisses between his shoulder blades. "I'm going to go try to wash District 2 off of me. Will you be here long?"

"I should be back sometime before Bathing," he said.

"Okay," she said, and kissed his back again before pulling away. "I, um, I'll see you later," she stammered out, suddenly awkward.

Peeta couldn't help but smile. As much as her inability to express her feelings bothered her, Peeta was thrilled every time she tried. Even the attempt was a sign of how much she cared. "I love you, too," he said.

He heard her frustrated huff before she left the room.

…..

So my plan to publish this story on a regular schedule for seven straight weeks hit a bit of a snag. When I started publishing this story with the whole thing planned in detail but without the last few chapters written, I wasn't anticipating losing all motivation to write for 14 months. Oops. For anyone still reading, the story is complete now, so you can safely expect Chapter 6 next week and Chapter 7 two weeks from now.

Back when I was publishing this story in 2013, I got a few messages from readers about how this story was constructed. Some people wanted a more complete story than just a scene or two every few years. Others mentioned scenes they were looking forward to seeing in future chapters, that I knew would not be part of the finished story.

To address the first issue: The idea for this story originally germinated as a response to a Prompts in Panem prompt for a story about the sin of Envy. That's where this storytelling style comes from: This isn't a complete narrative, it's a series of look-ins to moments when the characters felt envy for one another" Gale envies merchants for their comparatively easy lives, Peeta envies Gale for his relationship with Katniss, Katniss envies Peeta for having choices when she feels like she has none, etc. And even though I could conceivably scrap all of this and retell the story in a more traditional way now, I'm going to stick with my original idea, and publish the seven chapters I originally envisioned when I first planned out this story.

I did have another idea, though. Once I finish the seven chapters I have planned, I could go back and do some outtakes. Fill in the gaps, so to speak, with scenes and moments that weren't part of my original plan. I wanted to throw that idea out there to gauge interest. Would anyone be interested in something like that? And if so, what scenes would you want me to cover? Leave a comment or review, or hit up my ask box on Tumblr, and tell me what you'd like to see, and I'll write as many as I can after the last chapter of the main story goes up. And thanks so much for reading this story.