Howdy! Got this one up nice and quick for you all. I'm quite proud of myself, actually. Yey, for actually being productive during break! Love break. Especially when you have almost a month and a half worth of it. It's wonderful. Lots of sleep, lots of writing, lots of reading.

So, this one was actually going to be my Christmasy update, but obviously it wasn't ready in time. The SoI for this one is "I'll Be Home For Christmas", as corny as that may be. To be fair, I'm making this one essentially the second part to "I Will Wait". Same era, same AU; Peeta's off at war and Katniss is waiting for him at home. I liked that idea a lot, so I made them a happy, fluffy ending. You don't actually need the words for the song to understand this. Just the title. Or really, just the first three words of the title. There's really not much that's Christmasy about this...

On another, but not very different note: I'm wrapping up this collection. I've decided it's time to finish up with Katniss and Peeta. Don't get me wrong, I love writing them, I do. But it has to end somewhere, and I think 20 one shots is a nice round, even number. I have the last two in mind and I'm working on them now. I want them to be absolutely perfect for you guys, so I'm not sure if they'll be up within the next month. They will, however, be put up together.

So, please remember to review and/or add to your Favorites/Alerts. Every single one of you makes my day when I see those notifications. And without further ado, please enjoy! :]

I'll Be Home

"Girl!"

She flinches at the woman's shrill. It carries through the house like a siren, harshly ringing against the windows and walls of the manor. The title is vague but she knows the woman is calling for her. She's the only one that can earn a shrill like that. She catches Prim's eye and sees the same question she herself is thinking.

What did she do this time?

"Girl!" Comes another shriek. Quickly, she mentally runs through her day. Breakfast went smoothly, if you didn't count the mix-up with the tea. She went to town and came back with only two broken eggs this time. Greasy Sae didn't let her touch the midday meal, so there was no way anything went wrong there. And she had been quietly polishing the silver with Prim since then. Really, there was nothing to be blamed for.

Still, she feels as if she's forgetting something. It's not the milk; she got that while at the market. The chickens are all in the coop since the snow began falling. And the post doesn't come on Sundays, so there was no need to go wait out on the road or in the woods today.

It's probably nothing, she reasons as the mistress of the house calls again. Heaving a tired sigh, she puts the bowl she had been working on back on the shelf.

"Better go see what she wants," Prim says softly, grinning up from her own polishing. She simply rolls her eyes as she stretches her arms above her head.

"Probably just remembered she hasn't told me I'm a child from hell yet today," she mumbles, shaking her head.

"Katniss," Prim scolds, but the small smile ruins the effect. "Besides," she shrugs, "she called you a traitor yesterday. Not a hell-child."

She chuckles before giving an affirming nod. Quickly checking her appearance in the reflection of the window, she places an affectionate hand on her sister's shoulder before going to present herself to her mistress in the sitting room.

"Good evening, Mrs. Mellark," she greets with a bow. Mrs. Mellark barely looks up from her book to acknowledge her. She feels her good mood vanish as her temper flares. The woman just disrupted the entire household with her yells and yet she's indifferent to her presence. Instead, the mistress waves her hand, summoning another servant. Ripper suddenly appears besides her, presenting her a shovel, a bow tied neatly around the handle.

"Merry Christmas," Ripper grumbles sarcastically with a shrug. "The mistress wishes you use your gift on the drive."

"The drive?" She repeats in shock. It had been snowing had since the early morning – there had to be at least twelve centimeters on the ground already. And the front drive was massive.

"Before it gets too dark, dear," Mrs. Mellark orders coolly, sipping at her tea. Her cold blue eyes flicker up to stare into her own grey ones, letting her know there is no room for negotiation. She clenches her jaw in frustration. The sun is due to set in an hour.

"Yes ma'am," she growls, bowing once more before storming out of the room.

She gasps for breath, leaning on the shovel for support. Her nose is numb and she can't feel her fingertips or her toes, but she shed her coat twenty minutes ago. Even if it was a complete waste of time, shoveling at least kept her warm.

She tried not to think about the hour she just wasted. It was snowing harder now. The twenty meters of the drive she had just finished is now covered in a fine layer of fluffy snow, mocking her as she works. Panting, she looks up the hill at the rest of the drive. It never used to feel this long, she thinks, picking up the shovel again. She swears it's never been this long. She should know; she's run up the gravel road to the top of the hill everyday since he's been gone.

Peeta. He's been gone for almost two years now and she misses him more with every passing day. His letters are few and far in between thanks to his work as an officer, but they still come. But even still, they're not the same to having him there with her.

His words assure her he'll come back someday. It used to be that's all she needed. That simple sentence, those simple words were all it took to reassure her. She would wait for someday. And she still will. But more and more, she wishes someday was today. That she'd look up from her work in the kitchen or in the parlor to see him standing in the door, smiling at her and waiting for her to jump into his arms. That instead of running for the postbox at the top of the hill, she'd be running to meet him.

Shaking her head, she throws another shovelful to the side. Stupid, she's being so stupid. There's no point in feeling sorry for herself. Just because Gale and Tom had come back before Christmas didn't mean that there wasn't still a war going on. Panem still needed soldiers to fight. And Peeta was an officer. They wouldn't let him go if they still needed him. Which they did, of course. It wasn't every day you came across a captain who could fly a plane better than almost any pilot the military had ever seen.

She shakes her head at the memory. The papers had called him daring, reckless even, in his flying capabilities. She nearly had a heart attack when the postman had handed her a military telegram instead of a letter. Thank god it had only been to tell the family he was being awarded a medal. Her Peeta was a war hero and still they wouldn't let him come home to her.

The drive was halfway done now. She scowled down the hill at the house. More exactly, the woman she knew to be sitting by the window in the same chair she had seen her in earlier. There was no way Mrs. Mellark wasn't watching her progress, judging her, preparing harsh words to criticize her when she came back in. Fuming, she scooped up some snow only to lob it down at the house. She knew it was pointless to be wasting time throwing snowballs, especially since they would never reach their intended target, but it did make her feel a little better.

Now even more tired, she looks up into the sky. Her breath escapes her in short pants, sending little clouds up to meet the falling snow. She closes her eyes, letting the feel of the cold flakes calm her as they land on her cheeks. They used to do this together, she remembers. They'd sneak out the back door and stare up into the night sky. He'd hold her, her back against his chest, as they watched the snow fall like stars. Scowling, she grabs at her shovel. Her chest hurt and she blinks hard at the moisture in her eyes.

Stupid. Just stupid.

Growling, she reaches the top of the drive. True, everything she had shoveled was again covered in snow, but at least there was less of it. And she was out of the house. No one to yell at her out here. Nothing for her to mess up.

Sighing, she wraps her arms around herself to keep warm. Mrs. Mellark would've demanded a fire by now. Dinner had probably been served too, her stomach reminded her. Hopefully, Prim had saved something for her. Even if it was only a little bit of bread. Heaving another sigh, she closes her eyes and bit her lip. She'd have to go in eventually. Into the house that he no longer lived in.

In her mind, she pictures him there with her, staring up into the sky. His arms tight around her waist, his breath tickling her ear. That wonderful smell of strawberries and flour combined with the sharp scent of his aftershave filling her every time she breathed in. She could almost feel him behind her, holding her as they stood up on the hill.

"I miss you," she breathes to the sky.

"I missed you, too."

She jumps in surprise. She could've sworn she heard his voice. But it couldn't be so. He's still overseas. It sounded so much like him, though. She feels her eyes beginning to tear again. Her mind is too cruel, playing tricks in the dark. Pawing at her eyes, she begins to make her way back down the hill when she hears it again.

"Katniss."

It's barely there, the sound being swallowed by the snow, but she hears it. That voice. That low voice he only uses when they're alone together. The one that sends tingles all the way to her toes and makes her breath catch in her throat. She draws in a shaky breath, closing her eyes again, and wonders if she's really dreaming the whole thing. Maybe her fantasies have finally invaded her reality.

"Katniss."

She begins to shake when she feels him behind her. Really, it's just too much. It's bad enough she has to dream of him every night only to be disappointed in the morning. She doesn't need her dreams following her when she's awake. Life can't be that cruel, can it?

She feels his arms around her, pulling her to him. Tears slowly fall down her face, her breath coming in shattered gasps. Her hands go to cover her mouth in an attempt to restore some sort of composure. The feel of his body against hers, his cheek nuzzling her neck as he kisses her just underneath her ear – it's all too much. Too much to handle.

"Katniss," he whispers in her ear, "it's me."

She tilts her face up, wanting to believe, wanting to really see him there. And he is. Blonde hair neatly tucked into his hat, soft freckles decorating the area under his eyes, his face beams down at her. Her voice leaves her with a small whimper of happiness as his lips curl into a smile.

"It's me, Katniss," he says, blue eyes shining. "I'm back."

Those little words break the spell over her and bring her to reality. Slowly, she turns in his arms and lifts her face to his. His mouth covers hers softly, delicately, as his hands cup her cheeks. She's laughing when they part, sniveling and gasping in between tears, but still laughing as she wraps her arms around him. He rubs her nose against hers, whispering her name and wiping away her tears with his thumbs.

"I missed you," she murmurs once she's found her voice again. "I missed you so much."

He smiles, kissing her lips again. "I love you," he breathes, his lips brushing against hers with the words. She smiles up at him, shining and beautiful, before resting her head against his chest.

He came home. He kept his promise like he said. And she kept hers. No more waiting.