"Looks like somebody's still on a bit of a high."

Thom's words cause no small amount of warmth to creep to my ears. Am I that obvious?

"Yes," he notes in response to what was supposed to be an internal thought, "you are. It really didn't help that your bedroom window was open."

Besides the former miner's muttered commentary, everyone else has knowing smirks on their faces; smirks that cause the warmth to spread across my whole face and turn it beet red in all likelihood.

However, despite the slight amount of embarrassment, I hold no shame about what happened between me and Katniss last night. Yeah, our first time was a bit awkward, especially considering how both of us were afraid of hurting each other in the process. She was so nervous that I kept telling her that we didn't have to commence, and there were times where the placement of hands or our bodies together nearly caused an upwelling of terror-laden nausea within me; not to mention a couple painful fumbles here and there. However, it all became worth it in the end.

Still, that's probably not the reason why my happiness is so obvious. Because while the physical pleasure gained from that night was wonderful, it all paled in comparison to what she told me:

"Real."

It didn't take anything else to convince me, and I didn't hesitate to murmur back:

"I love you too, Katniss Everdeen."

So yeah, I'm pretty happy, and it's going take more than the peanut gallery to put a damper on things.

And fortunately, once the snickers abate, we are able to actually focus on the task at hand, which is the finalizing of details on the administrative center and memorial.

It's quite amazing how far we've come, which can be seen in the diverse make-up of the non-Twelvers who are attending the meeting: foremen from Two, civil engineers from Three, technicians from Five, architects and landscape designers from One, and even transportation engineers from Six; that last one's a challenge as that district isn't that much of a fan of ours. District Twelve is still in charge of the creative process — Thom actually assigned me the role of drafting up concepts; to help me with ideas, I had various documents sent to me detailing the architecture of Appalachia from the pre-Rebellion and even pre-Cataclysm eras — however everybody else is here to make sure those ideas are able to be transferred into reality.

At the conclusion of the meeting, and as everybody begins to disperse, I call out, "Neal, you're going back to District One for a few weeks, right?" Cochineal Taylor is the lead architect on our council, and she's probably been the most instrumental in making sure that my ideas make it to the final draft.

"Yeah, I'm heading out tomorrow," she says before looking at me in perplexity. "Why, something the matter?"

"Do you know any good custom jewelry makers there who would be willing to take a commission from me? You know… even with…"

As I trail off, the architect actually barks off a laugh. "You're still worried about that? Sure we were upset, but even before the Rebellion, we saw the Games as the Games. Besides, right now, you could personally raze our city center and the people would still not hesitate to accept a commission from you." For a moment there, an expression of bitterness crosses her face. "Luxury goods aren't exactly in high demand right now."

"Oh…" With that explanation found to be satisfactory, I bring out an envelope and hand it to her. "In here is something very important to me, as well as detailed sketches and instructions on what I would like to be done with it. Money is no issue."

With my permission, Neal takes a look at the contents; when the little vial that accompanies my sketches is taken out, the sight of its contents cause the architect's eyes to widen. "Is this…"

"Yes," I affirm with a nod. "That's why I'm putting a lot of trust with you."

"Well, don't worry about that," she says with a smile. "I'll make sure you only get the best."

~oOo~

Over the past couple months Katniss and I have been hosting a wide assortment of people at our house. Of course, there have been a fair share of profiteers and media — so far, only Cressida and Pollux are allowed to set foot in what used to be the Victors' Village — who try to weasel their way in only to be rebuffed at the train station, but more often than not, those who've contacted us have come over for legitimate reasons.

Sometimes, it's a case of us doing the inviting. One example being the invitation of Rue and Thresh's families, who managed to survive the crackdown and war due to Chaff and Seeder's safe zones. Besides the knowledge of their safety, the expressions of delight among the kids when we gave them various desserts was enough to make up for the accompanying heartache in dealing with mutual loss, especially from Katniss when she talked in private with Rue's family. After the families returned to Eleven, the district ended up sending gifts of its own: one hundred and twenty peach trees; figuring out where to plant them was an interesting task considering that there's still not that many buildings placed yet.

Anyways, today is no different in terms of us willingly hosting people.

Despite being married, the couple sitting before us and sipping tea seem to be about as different in appearance as possible from each other. The woman has a willowy build with merchant-like blue eyes and blond hair set in a finger-waved bob. In contrast, the burly man next to her has a complexion that's almost as dark as the light brown of his eyes or the auburn of his hair and beard.

Though there are more than a few similarities as well. It could be how their clothing and accessories give away the fact that they aren't exactly wanting for money; though with the sort of low-key tastefulness that many Capitolites lack. It could be the soft twang of their voices that, while way more refined than what I've heard from a fellow tribute, gives away their origin. And it could be that, despite their warm demeanor, there's a sense of alertness and cunning about them that hint at their former roles as regional co-commanders of District Three.

Now, they are merely the co-executives of one of the largest non-governmental entities in Panem. How they managed to build that company up within the year I have no clue.

And really it doesn't matter. "Mr. and Mrs. Bannon," I say, "I hope that the tea and cookies are to your liking." Because, barring Two's donation, they are currently the biggest investors to the rebuilding of District Twelve.

Mrs. Bannon fixes me with a motherly smile — at least… I think that's how a mother should view her children — as she waves her fan. "Darling, you don't have to be so formal. Please, call me Iris."

"And you can call me Vector," her husband adds. "If anything, we should be deferential to you two."

"That really isn't necessary," Katniss notes. It doesn't take a mind-reader to know that she's tempted to add, "Nor is it exactly desirable." Really, both of us prefer to be viewed as people rather than idols.

To my pleasant surprise, Iris gives us both a sympathetic nod without pity. "I thought as much. Anyways, to be frank, we in Three tend to prefer our tea iced and already sweetened. But this is fine nonetheless. Of course," she states while plucking a lemon bar from the cookie tray, "these are the real stars. If you don't mind me asking, have you ever thought of rebuilding your bakery?"

Honestly, the idea has occurred to me more than a few times, though no more than just an idea. It was tough enough to give the go-ahead to clear away the last of the rubble of the old one — I still go to the site to leave a wreath or just talk — and I'm not sure how willing I would be to rebuild on top of it. Of course, I merely answer with, "I'm thinking about it, but right now the priority is with rebuilding the district."

Something about the way both Bannons look at me seems to suggest that they don't buy my explanation as the complete story. Which makes me all the more glad that, instead of pressing for details, Vector holds up our other provided snack. "And these chanterelles… I take it you were the one who picked and cooked them," he notes with a pointed glance towards Katniss. I can't help but feel a bit of pride in the fact that her cooking abilities are recognized.

My girlfriend — it feels wonderful to call her that — nods: "I saw that the patch was ready to pick this morning and thought it was best to fry them when I heard we were going to have company."

The executive takes a moment to eat the battered golden mushroom after dipping it in an herbed buttermilk sauce. "Well, an excellent choice, I must say," he comments. "Our son likes to go into the wilderness as well, but it's not exactly advisable to gather anything to eat at the edge of the city."

"Of course," Iris cuts in, "while we could talk about this delicious food all day, you know that's not why we're here."

"Of course," I parrot in acknowledgement. They're here to oversee the progress of the medicine factory. While the idea for the facility may have started in the Capitol, it seems that ownership of it will transfer to the Bannons, who will be the ones to oversee operations. "So why the visit? I suspect this wasn't just so you could meet the Mockingjay and her boyfriend."

"Well there's that," Vector admits, "but you're right in that it's not the only reason."

"We simply want to make sure that our presence won't be unwelcome," Iris explains before holding her hand up. "Yes, I know; it's not like you're the main decision makers here in District Twelve, and we're talking to others around the district. We still find both of your opinions of value."

"Well, so long as it doesn't affect the ability for everybody to have a job, I don't really have anything to add," I note with a shrug. "Granted, we prefer that the original designs stay in place."

"Don't worry about that; we think they're lovely. Though there may have be some tweaking allow for expansion, and our logo will adorn the place. We'll send you any alterations for approval."

"Perfectly fine. Though out of curiosity, does your company even have a logo or name yet?" Last I checked, everyone just knows it as that rapidly-expanding company in Three that's not as dickish as the rapidly-expanding company in Six.

"We're still working on that," Iris admits, "though it'll be finalized by year's end."

"More importantly: why are you doing this?" This time, there's no mistaking the suspicion in Katniss' voice when she cuts in. "I mean, why are you taking over this factory?"

To their credit, the Bannons don't look the least bit surprised or bothered at her candor. "You mean besides the profit gained from the sale of those pharmaceuticals?" asks Vector.

If that's supposed to ruffle Katniss' feathers, it doesn't work either. "But it can't be any more than the factories you already have in your own district."

"It's also always good to expand influence. The uncomfortable truth is that, if we didn't take control, someone else will, and they may not be so willing to listen to the people here. So we'll have a base of power in the east, and you'll get state-of-the-art tech and place to work. Win-win."

"The thing is," Iris adds before we can say anything, "while the reasons my husband gives aren't false, they aren't the main ones. That we wish to repay you for taking upon the burden of that mantle isn't the main reason either. The fact is that you could say this is a social experiment."

"What." That word barely leaves my mouth before I notice that Katniss is echoing me.

If Iris notices how confused we are, she makes no acknowledgment of it except to explain, "We aren't just interested in creating a for-profit corporation; we're in the midst of building up an organization in parallel with our company just for the sake of helping this nation and the people in it."

"How does that tie into Twelve?" I ask.

"Simple," Vector states, "District Twelve, for lack of a better word, used to be the most impoverished district in the nation before that atrocity occurred. Now it's in the process of rebuilding from a blank slate, which gives us a good baseline to work from."

"And if the people of this district not only have stable jobs but gain new skills to make this community even better, imagine the possibilities of applying similar concepts to communities in other districts," Iris posits before raising her glass of tea. "Our wish is that your generation and the ones after will be able to grow up in better world. It's why we fought in the Rebellion last year, and it's why we're creating this foundation now."

Huh… Honesty, while having this district be considered an experiment is a bit unnerving, another part of me simply thinks that, if the people of this district benefit, it'd be great for others benefit as well. Still… "Just to be clear, this social experiment doesn't involve you tracking every inhabitant of the district, right?"

"Other than the security cameras and guards for the factory itself? You don't have anything to worry about," Iris assures us. "I believe that we'll be able to see the results of our efforts without relying on surveillance technology." Whew…

I glance over at Katniss, and while she doesn't look one hundred percent convinced, she no longer looks suspicious either. Probably helps that this isn't full charity either. "So you say that you have a son…"

"Turns eighteen this December," Vector states before uttering a soft chuckle with a shake of the head. "Sometimes we wonder how he's made it this far."

"Well maybe we can meet him next time when you're here," I chirp. "It's always nice to get to know people our age."

I don't know why, but for some reason the Bannons cast uneasy glances at each other before changing the subject.

~oOo~

"I don't know why I have to close my eyes; I'm not even completely dry right now." Even when I don't see Katniss' face, I can hear the scowl in her voice.

"Let me take care of that," I state while patting away the last remnants of water from her face and torso with one hand while holding the box — after just over a month, Neal came back with it yesterday; not even I have seen the contents yet — in the other.

With a toss of the towel to the side, I ask, "Okay, are you ready?"

"To open my eyes?"

"Not just yet," I chuckle while opening the box, "but I'll take that as 'yes'."

I only allow myself a brief glimpse of the necklace before carefully draping around her neck. Wow… it's… it's even better than I imagined it to be.

As I close the clasp at the end of the chain, my words come out on the hoarse side: "Okay, you can open them now."

The moment Katniss' eyes open, her scowl slips away to be replaced by an expression of realization… then astonishment.

"I thought it was destroyed…" she murmurs as she reaches up to touch the pendant hanging at the end of the platinum chain… a pendant that takes the form of three gold-fringed petals of platinum surrounding a single scuffed pearl.

"It was recovered by a relief crew, but by the time that happened… you were… uh… indisposed. So it was given to Haymitch, and he gave it to me," I explain. "I'm sorry about not giving it back earlier, but I wanted to wait till the right moment. Honestly, I'm still not sure what the right moment is but…"

As my rambling trails off, Katniss still doesn't respond for quite a while but simply continues to stare at her reflection. After a while, I'm begining to get worried; that is, until I hear the soft whisper:

"It's beautiful."

Satisfied, I give a light kiss to her ear. "Not as much as you."