An: Thanks go Geeky for the parenthetical cheerleading...some of which I did forget to remove, though not the fun ones...we should be good now.

Chapter 5

In which Gale finally gets a word in edgewise.

Katniss and Peeta retreat with the other blanket. I watch them until I can only see the yellow beam of their flashlight and hear the awkward tread of a certain foot. Katniss still hasn't taught her boyfriend how to travel quietly through the woods.

My own hands bunch around the flashlight and the other blanket, although they're itching to throttle a few necks instead. I knew confiding in Katniss about my feelings for Madge Undersee scored pretty low on the list of useful plans. And telling Katniss anything means telling Mellark nowadays. When they offered advice, I told them I'd find a way to talk to Madge on my own terms. Once I felt ready and knew what my plans were for the future.

Definitely not when Madge was busy with a heist.

And if that blows up in our faces…I can just imagine the scene:

Excuse me, Officer, I'd like to tell the young woman wearing stripes a few cells down that I've been in love with her for over three years. No, not the grouchy brunette. I know. Contrary to popular belief. The other one with a concussion. The ring leader? Yeah, that's the one. So, would you mind letting me out of here for just a sec….

Yeah, that will go over well.

Yet, another part of me thinks that although the situation isn't ideal, maybe this is it. It's not like Madge is going anywhere.

I glance over my shoulder toward the hovercraft. Madge crouches on the hatch, bending over the toolbox. The black material of her uniform blends into the darkness, except for the small pool of light coming from the compartment. She must have done some research on potential uniform donors, because it fits to a T. It's a good job she can't tell that my mouth is watering.

I decide to take the chance. Maybe she'll refuse me or make denials. But I'll make her see sense.

I clear my throat. "Madge."

She drops something that clanks on the floor. "What?" she hisses, kneading her fingers against her temples.

Okay. A little hostility on her side. I swallow, looking in the opposite direction toward Katniss and Peeta – whoa. Where'd their light go? I try to scan through the darkness with my eyes, wondering what they're up to. Then I cut off that line of thought and chuckle deep in my throat. Whatever it is, it's none of my business.

So I quit looking and step toward Madge. "How's your head?"

"Fine," she answers gruffly, avoiding my eyes.

I breathe out slowly. This won't be easy if she doesn't play along. "Are you sure? You hit it pretty hard." Then hit me with it pretty hard. My hand inches toward my bruised chest, but I resist the urge to soothe it.

"I'm aware of that, Dr. Hawthorne," she snaps, mimicking Peeta.

I take another step closer, cautiously though, like I'm approaching a wounded animal. The kind that can still rip your guts out even if your arrow is embedded in its side. "You should probably sit down for a mo—"

Madge whips around to face me with a scowl, then wobbles a little. I reach to steady her, but she leans against the hatch. "I'm busy, Gale. Can't you see that I've got a busted hovercraft on my hands?" But she slides down to sit anyway.

"I do see that." My arms cross over my chest, though not very comfortably with the objects I'm holding. "It can wait. I'd like to speak to you—"

"No, it can't wait," Madge groans, waving her hand at the beast. "Don't you see? We were supposed to return tomorrow before Haymitch notices. He's usually asleep until late afternoon." She drops her head in her hands. "This plan failed epically."

"Yes, it did," I reply, giving up on the nice plan. Tact isn't really my shtick, anyway, and I doubt she's in the mood for a romantic confession. In fact, I think she hates me. "Frankly, I'm surprised you're flying at all. I don't really see you as the pilot type."

She sniffs indignantly. A faint breeze filters through the trees, wafting her hair over her shoulders. Underneath the scent of resin and earth, I detect the lemony hint of wild verbena. I lean against the hovercraft, drinking it in. Sucker.

"Why'd you learn in the first place?" I ask, trying not to get distracted by my attraction to her. She seems reluctant to talk, but I'm curious.

Madge looks up, but not at me. Her eyes fix on the blank wall of darkness obscuring the forest. "Because the new settlement will need pilots more than they'll need piano teachers," she says with a wry twist of her lips. Then her eyes light on me. "What with the distance and their need for supplies."

The new settlement. Thinking about it makes my pulse quicken, the same way sneaking out into the woods back home used to. The new republic officials only just announced their plan to fund the colony a year ago. They chose a location north of old District 13. At the time, the plan teetered on the brink of uncertainty, but now that a peace treaty with the overturned Capitol is underway, and a modicum of peace expected, plans have started up again. And none too soon. Although many Mockingjay confederates will return to their home districts, those of us from Seven, Eleven, and Twelve have no home to return to, except the Underground. With an expansion potential of zero.

But the land appointed for this colony stood empty since the days before Panem, abandoned terrain which Capitol officials might have found use for, had they not lost the rogue district, thereby blocking their path. Whatever manmade structures existed in the region are long gone. I've seen aerial shots – massive, first growth trees as far as the eyes can see rising into a shield. Not ideal farm country – but the hunting…

Lately I've had a hard time thinking about anything else. Trying to recall the feeling of bracken under my feet, and the ferns feathering beneath my hands. In the woods, light filters through the canopy, catching on spider webs, or coming down in slanting rays on a glade. Then someone will call my name, and with a start, I'll realize that a quarter of an hour has passed without knowing what's going on around me.

It's not even a question in my mind – I'll be there.

I just don't know who'll come with me. Though I hope Madge would consider. I don't always understand her motivations – especially one pertaining to a certain snowy night. But I think I know what it suggests - I'm going to get to the bottom of that. Tonight, maybe? If her mood improves.

And I know she could handle the difficulties. With no family, she managed to look after herself. Got a job somebody with her background might have thought beneath her. Pluck is always a quality I've admired in girls.

We're friends…or at least, we were going to be. It doesn't hurt that she's pretty, and I figured out that she isn't indifferent to me. Before I enlisted, I used to see her every day. District 12 people stick together in the Underground. But as a Mockingjay soldier, I just couldn't. Sometimes, when I returned on leave, I'd walk in the door to find her sitting with Posy and my mom. I've wanted to tell her that I missed her and that I thought she looked beautiful. Ask if she would consider going out with me?

The truth is, after what we've been through with the firebombing and moving to a completely new city – I mean, the farthest I've been from home, up until then, was only a few miles into the woods – we've learned a lot about one another. I probably would have asked her to marry me within a year. Had I not enlisted. It wouldn't be fair if something happened to me during a mission. So, I guess I balked.

And now? Feels like we've gone backwards.

Still, my mother said that Madge showed interest in the colony. Although neither of us realized that her interest took a mechanical turn.

For the worse.

I glower, thinking about our unfortunate flight. "They'll need supplies that actually arrive, you know."

Madge's blue eyes cut through me. "Shut up. I'm a good pilot," she grouses. "Quintus said I just need more practice. And an Ethel that works."

Quintus…that green-haired hobgoblin. I know his type. He's the kind of guy that enjoys easy victories over girls who don't know better, for the sake of his own vanity. She's his student, after all. Isn't there a code about that? I wanted to punch the glass out of the hatch window when he swooped in on her. And she seemed to like it!

We sit in an uncomfortable silence for a minute or two while I contemplate ripping the rings out of his nose.

"What's wrong with teaching kids to play the piano?" I grumble. At least you aren't in danger from slutty male pilots.

"Who's going to own one?" she retorts. "There won't even be children there right away."

Then I say, "There are other ways to contribute to the new colony. You could – "

She puts her hand on her hip. "Wait tables?"

"Yeah." I shrug. "There's bound to be some sort of inn."

"Ugh." I can tell that she's trying hard not to stamp her foot. Even though she's sitting.

"Or run for mayor," I add, just to push her buttons.

She blinks, then glares at me. "Please."

Before I can respond she grabs the toolbox and clumsily shunts herself out of the hovercraft. The nose of the Peregrine-61 presses into the dirt, where the landing gears would normally hold it four or five feet off the ground. Fortunately, in this case, they're jammed underneath the fuselage, so a ladder won't be necessary. Madge already popped the hood open, so she puts the box down and starts examining the grimy metal interior.

"Hand me the wrench," she orders.

Her demanding tone makes me smirk, but I play along. Dropping the blanket by the flashlight, I walk over and crouch down by her side. I rummage around in the rusted box, finding an empty miniature wine bottle. I toss it over my shoulder, then hand her the wrench. "Do you need me to hold the flashlight for you?" I ask, stepping close to her side.

Her head turns a fraction in my direction, then she swallows. "No." She sidles away from me and proceeds to bang on something I can't see in the murk.

After a few minutes of this head-splitting racket, I grip her arm. The sound of ringing metal fades into the trees. "I don't think that's helping the Peregrine." I refuse to call it Ethel.

"Well, it's helping me!" she retorts, swinging the wrench in an arc.

I snatch the tool out of her hand, getting knuckled for my efforts. I barely contain the impulse to suck on my smarting fingers, but in the end I manage to man up.

"Let me have a look." I shoo her away, then hunch under the hood for a closer examination. I can't see a darn thing, so I grab the flashlight.

Damn. My heart sinks as the light reveals a burned out belt.

I lean on my hands, gripping the aluminum skirt while the wrench forms an indentation on my palm. "I'm guessing we don't have a spare?" I mutter, looking over my shoulder.

"No," she grumbles.

I throw down the wrench. "Forget it. We aren't going anywhere."

"I figured that," she says in a flat tone. "Now what will we do?"

What will we do? I don't know. But I do know what I'm going to do. "Sleep."

"Good luck. There's still the question of who gets that blanket," she says, reneging on her offer to sleep in the pilot seat.

I pause. "You're right. Let's see." I say, tapping a finger against my lips. "You all forced me on this picnic…"

"I prefer recon mission, but essentially, yes," Madge huffs.

"…so I think I deserve a blanket as compensation. Why don't you join Katniss and let Peeta freeze."

Madge puts her hands on her hips. "Don't you think that's a bit selfish? Besides, we came so that they could be alone. Or at least I did. Nobody told me why you're here—"

"That makes two of us."

"—and I won't let you bother them."

"Won't you?" I arch an eyebrow, sizing her up. She chews her lip as I take a step toward her.

"I'll use physical force if necessary," she threatens.

"As interesting as that scenario might be," I drawl, after I carefully consider the pros and cons of getting her to follow through with that threat, "I'll concede this once. Peeta can share with Katniss while you freeze, since you stole a faulty hovercraft."

"Ugh!" she exclaims.

"Or you can share with me."

Her eyes grow wide and her jaw drops. "I don't know what you have in mind, Gale Hawthorne, but if you think that I'm the sort of girl who—"

"What?" I ask. "The sort of girl who snogs men that look like they ran into barbed wire?"

She splutters. "That's the first time anything like that has ever happened to me! And I certainly didn't ask him to kiss me."

"You liked it."

Madge squares her shoulders. "That's none of your business."

"Look, you can feel as indignant as you like, but it doesn't change the facts," I say, straightening up to my full height. "Only one blanket and two of us." She wrinkles her nose at me, glancing in the direction of Katniss and Peeta. "Their flashlight turned off a long time ago." I rib her. "It's chilly out, isn't it?"

Madge glares. "Then you should do the gentlemanly thing and—"

"Not strangle you?" I drag my fingers through my hair, gripping the strands hanging down the back of my own neck. "God, I didn't realize you were such a troublemaker."

"Troublemaker?" she blusters, then winces.

"Yes, troublemaker," I continue. I have to admit that I like getting her dander up. She actually talks. So I say, "And a thief."

Her jaw drops again. "I am not!"

"And it's getting worse. I can understand newspapers when Katniss and Peeta needed them; and maybe a uniform…but hovercrafts? Madge, I think you have a serious problem."

"So you're the only one who's allowed to participate in the seedy underbelly of society?" Madge sneers, stepping right up to me – pinning me with her finger. "Your mother didn't teach you about double standards?"

"This is not about double standards. It's—"

"And for the record," she interrupts, pushing against my chest with the flat of her hand. "I don't need a big brother, so back off."

I grab her wrist where it's pressed against me. Her hand feels cold. "That's not really what I had in mind either."

Madge blinks at me while I lean down till we're nearly nose-to-nose. I feel the erratic pulse in her wrist and her eyes are nearly black.

"But for the record," I say, holding her there, "if I were your older brother, I'd tell you right now that your boyfriend's a phony…"

"Boyfriend?" She wriggles, trying unsuccessfully to free her wrist, and gives up. "That guy is a war hero and just a friend of mine."

"Just a friend?" I growl, grabbing her by the shoulders. "I think you're a few degrees past friendship. At least he is."

"Don't be silly." But she doesn't sound like she's convincing even herself. Her voice wavers. She sinks against me. "I don't think of him that way, Gale…I..."

I tilt my head downward, wondering for a moment if she means to kiss me, but Madge crushes that thought by blacking out.

Huh?

It's when I try to lift her head off my chest that I feel the bump above her ear.

TBC

Thanks for reading!