Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.
Patchwork:
by Fanfic Allergy
oOo
Title: Contents Unknown
Theme: 05: Food
Words: 1318
Summary: Even though she doesn't have to anymore, Katniss will always stockpile food and Peeta loves her for it.
oOo
"Katniss?" I call from where I'm standing in our pantry. Our pantry, the word 'our' gives me a little thrill every time I think it. Our house. Our kitchen. Our pantry. Our everything. I feel like I've been waiting a lifetime for that 'our.'
"Yeah?" she yells back from our bedroom where she's waiting for me to bring her breakfast in bed.
I'd told her to stay there when I got up this morning. It's the anniversary of the day I fell in love with her when we were five. Not that she knows that. But I like to celebrate the little milestones. The ones we picked for ourselves and not the ones the Capitol forced on us. Like the day we first moved in together. Or the day she first told me she loved me and meant it. The day she agreed to marry me. Our wedding day. Those are the days I celebrate. Still, it's a little hard to move on with that celebration when the honey and flour are buried behind dented cans of who knows what and clear jars of what looks like pickled fish.
"What's all of this in the pantry?"
I hear her get up to come join me in the pantry and I let out a little sigh of frustration. I guess this means no after breakfast thank you sex. She comes up beside me and takes my hand. "What do you mean? It's food."
I point to one of the dented, unmarked cans. "This is food?"
She nods.
"Where'd you get it?" I can't stop myself from asking.
Her chin comes up and her mouth takes that stubborn twist I know very well. "The shopkeeper was just going to throw them out. So I took them from him."
"Did he say why he was going to throw them out?" I ask patiently.
"Because they didn't have labels no one was going to buy them. So I said I'd take them," she says with a shrug, clearly not understanding why I'm asking her about them.
I keep myself from sighing. "I hope he didn't try to charge you for them."
She bristles. "Of course not! Do you think I'm an idiot? But what kind of person would I be if I let food go to waste!"
"How do you even know that's food and not something else? Like motor oil, or shoe polish, or makeup?" I ask in what I think is a reasonable tone.
Clearly Katniss doesn't agree, because the stubborn twist to her lips extends to her whole body. Removing her hand from mine, she crosses her arms and glares at me. "Makeup? In Twelve? What are you thinking? We don't have time for that kind of frivolity here!"
I have to admit she's right, that was a poor choice of an example. I try taking a different tact. "But why did you bring it here? You could have given it to Sae, she'd have taken it."
"Why is it such a big deal, Peeta? It's food! You can never have too much food."
And that's when it hits me. To Katniss, food equals security. The more food she has, it doesn't matter the kind or quality, the more secure she feels. To her an empty shelf is a cause for concern, while for me it's an opportunity to fill it with something wonderful. A partially filled shelf, even if it is organized, calls for her to cram as much as she can onto it. Whereas because I come from a baking background - partially filled shelves help me determine when I need to order more supplies.
I try to figure out a solution that would work for the both of us with my newfound knowledge. I know now I will never be able to convince her to throw the cans away unopened and unused and I definitely don't want to foist potentially expired canned goods off on anyone else, but I might be able to give her another way to utilize them rather than take up space on my pantry shelves. "You know, I've been thinking."
She gives me a suspicious glare. "About what? Are you trying to change the subject? This isn't about a baby, is it? You know how I feel about that."
I shake my head. I do know how she feels about that and I'm not about to pressure my wife to have a child when she's not ready. "I wasn't even thinking about that," I say honestly. "I was just thinking that I'm a little nervous about eating food if I don't know what it is or even how good it is."
"Merchant," she says, but the glare from earlier is gone so I know she doesn't mean it as an insult.
"I am," I agree. "I was just thinking we should see about getting a pig or two or maybe a goat. That way the animals could eat any kitchen scraps we have or," and I look at her pointedly, "any unknown foodstuffs."
A small spasm of pain crosses her face. "Not a goat," she says quickly
I curse myself for not remembering Prim's goat, Lady, the one Katniss got for her sister all those years ago. The goat itself was killed when the Capitol firebombed Twelve. But it's the memories of her murdered sister that make Katniss veto the goat.
"So pigs then. Or we could get a dog," I suggest instead.
"I'm not fond of dog meat," Katniss says, wrinkling her nose.
I gape at her. "You've eaten dog?"
She shrugs again. "What's the big deal? It's meat. Put it in stew and it pretty much all tastes the same."
I shake my head, not wanting to pursue this topic of conversation any further. "I was thinking more as a pet and guard rather than for food."
Katniss shrugs. "I'd still rather have a pig. They taste better."
Deciding not to push it anymore, I say, "So it's settled? We'll get a pig or two and any leftover food or food of questionable origin will go to them?"
"Sure. So long as food's not going to waste, I don't care," she says, with another shrug.
"Good," I say, then turn to take her hands. I smile down at her and say, "So, now that we've got that settled, what do you say about trying breakfast in bed again?"
She laughs. "Okay, just don't take too long. I don't want to miss any of our anniversary."
I freeze unable to keep the disbelief from showing on my face. She can't possibly know the reason I want today to be special. I deliberately don't tell her about my little anniversaries because they might make her uncomfortable. "What are you talking about?" I ask slowly.
She gives me a look. "Today's the day we first met, right? That first day of school, the one you told me about in the cave?" She says with a frown. "I'm pretty sure I don't have the date wrong."
I shake my head. "No, you're right. I thought you didn't remember, it's not like I did anything special to stand out that day. Not like you," I say, thinking about her singing the Valley Song.
"It's an important day to you," she says, squeezing my hands and smiling up at me gently. "And therefore it's an important day to me."
I'm unable to stop the upwelling of feeling that crashes over me, and I don't want to. I step forward and reach up to clasp her face in between my hands gently before leaning down to kiss her. It's things like this which make me realize that for all of her little idiosyncrasies and prickly nature, I made the right choice twenty years ago when I fell in love with the girl in the red dress with a voice that could make the mockingjays stop to listen.
oOo
AN:
Written: 11/18/13
Revised: 11/23/13
Beta read by RoseFyre
Something cute and I can completely understand Katniss's need to hoard food. My father has to have a well stocked pantry and fridge to feel secure. If the fridge is empty, like it is in preparation for things like Thanksgiving, he gets nervous and starts moving stuff around to try to make the fridge seem fuller. Also sometimes he'll just go in and stare at the full shelves and then walk out smiling. This is because his family grew up very poor during the depression and World War Two and throughout all of his childhood he never knew when his next meal was going to be. Now that he's older, and has money, this is something small he can do to make him happy. And he has trouble throwing food away, which was why we had dogs when I was growing up. They ate what my dad couldn't bear to throw away but wasn't good anymore. Pigs or goats do the same thing and are much more accepted as a food animal.
Tell me what you think!