Disclaimer: I do not own anything but original content. All names, places, and characters belong to their respective owners. Thanks for reading!

Three Months Prior

Gale's grip loosens on Peeta, his eyes widening in surprise at the word.

Wife? He gives me a little look as if to question the very concept. It is hardly uncommon for the town folk to make little jokes about me being Gale's wife. Hell, even our mothers expected us to wed eventually. But there is no joke, no teasing, in Peeta's voice - and he certainly isn't one of us.

I shake my head a little, a silent plea for him not to question Peeta's words.

From years of hunting, Gale knows me, knows what I'm saying, and more importantly, trusts me enough to go along with it.

I'm relieved when, without even mentioning the subject, he gives one final shove at Peeta before retrieving my dress from the floor and tossing it at me.

"Put your dress on," he hisses. "I'm taking you home."

"I swear to god," Gale says, one hand tightly gripped on me and the other pointing angrily towards Peeta. "If I find out that you offended her even in the slightest, it won't matter who you are…"

We walk back mostly in silence, trudging through the mountain terrain with barely a word. Gale walks at least ten paces ahead of me, his body tense with that fire I have only seen a handful of times.

Gale pauses as we reach the edge of town, stopping until I catch up with him. His grey eyes look down at mine, "You know," he says, "if he did anything to you...you can tell me."

I peer past Gale's questioning stare, my eyes focusing on the span of evergreens and the shadows of the mountains. My feet trample through a patch of violets, brown leather boots breaking the fresh purple petals.

"Peeta didn't do anything," I say. "You can relax."

"We practically organized a search party," he laughs, hands in the pocket of his jacket. "When you didn't come home, Prim worried you were dead with the storm. But I knew," he looks back at me. "I knew you would be fine."

"And I was," I tell him. "Nothing happened."

He shrugs, "When I found you like that, with that man. I swear, I thought something had happened, that he had touched you or hurt you or… I don't know what I would have done. You told him you were my wife, Katniss. Why would you do that if he didn't make you uncomfortable?"

"I didn't know him," I bite my lip, "I thought it safe."

"But you chose me," he says, and it isn't a question.

"It was just that I thought of you," I tell him, "you're the only man I really know."

A flock of bird passes overhead. "Of course," Gale readjusts his grey wool cap, "Come on, we'll hurry back, this way your sister doesn't fret all too much."

Present

I laugh against the warmth of his body's enclosure, "I already agreed to marry you."

"Yes," one of his hands drops to mine, "haphazardly after announcing you were pregnant. I don't exactly want to recall that moment to our children. I want to do right by you. So I'm asking you properly, Katniss. Be my wife, marry me."

I bite my lip. It was just like Peeta to do this, attempt to alleviate the harsh reality of our marriage, which was borne out of nothing more than foolish lust and simple convenience.

"Okay," I tell him, because what else am I going to say?

"Okay," he says, jokingly, peering out at me. "I ask you to marry me and all I get is an 'okay'."

"Fine," I say, giving him the slightest of kisses. "Yes Peeta, I'll marry you. Even if the question is redundant and I'm not sure this is all that much of a better story to tell the baby."

Peeta sighs against me, his fingers gripping the little jewelry box and slipping the cool metal of the ring onto my finger.

Three Months Prior

The next couple of days pass uneventfully. Gale spends his time in the woods, Prim goes to school, my mother gets called out for a birthing. For the most part, I'm alone during the day, and I opt to spend that time hidden in the woods, making good of the season's plentiful game.

I don't see Peeta again, not until two days later when I'm sorting through my game bag in that same corner of the woods where we first met.

"So, Katniss, is it?"

I jump at the voice, turning around to find none other than Peeta Mellark behind me. I bring my hand against my forehead, "How do you know my name?"

"I asked around," he says, leaning against a tree not five paces from me.

I blink, "Asked around about what?"

"You."

My heart quickens. What business does Peeta Mellark of all people have asking about me? What on earth was he saying to others?

"You didn't tell anybody," I freeze, "about last night?"

He shakes his head, "I would never…"

"I know you and Gale aren't married, at least, nobody seems to know about it," his blue eyes narrow at me. "And I get the feeling everybody knows everybody's business in a place like this. So tell me, why did you say you were married? Was it...some kind of scam? A way to trick me into gaining affections?"

I snort, "Are you always this full of yourself. You found me in those woods, remember? And for heaven's sake, I don't control the weather."

"So, if you aren't legally wed, what is it? Are you sweethearts, secretly betrothed, perhaps?" His voice is almost mocking, "I'd say it was sweet if I didn't know you were touching other men in the dead of night."

His words slap at me. "I don't touch strange men," I fire back, suppressing the urge to flat out strike him.

"I feel as if the way you wanted me last night is evidence to the contrary," he bites back matter of factly.

I groan, "Don't bring that up, for all I remember it never happened."

I knew the moment I laid eyes on Peeta Mellark that nothing good would ever come from his presence. And I had allowed myself, in a moment of weakness, to know the feel of his body and the taste of his mouth.

The heat of his breath tingles against my skin as he leans closer to me, "Tell me then, does he not touch you? Need you? Want you?"

I draw in a sharp breath at the intimacy of his words, and quickly pull back against the log. The fabric of my dress catches against the bark, but I can't find it in me to worry about the tear that is most likely forming.

"Gale and I aren't involved," I manage to gasp out. "You shouldn't...talk about him that way."

"Oh really," he says, blue eyes lighting on fire. "Mr. Hawthorne certainly seemed to think otherwise."

I bite the inside of my cheek as Peeta's hand glides against my ankle, "So who is Gale to you then."

Peeta's hands move across my legs like there is nothing abnormal about the way he is touching me. His fingers pushing even up to the start of my thighs.

"There's a little tiny rip right here," he says drawing circles against the hint of bare skin, "might want to patch that up."

"Gale's like a brother," I choke out, "overprotective."

"Hmm," he hums lightly, his knee catching the underside of my leg. "Then why'd you lie? If you and he are nothing more than siblings?"

"As you said, you were just some strange man," I shrug. "It felt wise at the time."

"So," he squints a little under the sun's bright light, "you're not married, or betrothed, or any way beholden to any man?"

I shake my head.

"Well then," he says, his fingers gliding against the front buttons of my dress, "nobody will hold is against me when I do this."

With that the entirety of his body leans into my side of the log. One hand catches my head, cradling my skull from the roughness of the bark.

He doesn't kiss me, doesn't touch his lips to mine like I expect, just looks at me, his face lingering inches from my own.

"Well?" I ask as we lie there in some kind of purgatorial hell.

"Well, what?" he grins, his knowing eyes peering over me. He wants me to beg, I think, beg for him to kiss me.

"Ask me," his hand slides lower against my dress. "Tell me what you want."

But I don't tell him, I just pull his hand out from underneath my head and push my body towards his. And instantly his lips are there just as they were the other night. And sooner still, his fingers are pushing up my skirts, his eyes alight with that same hint of fire.

Present

The streets are unusually crowded in the merchant's section of town. Children play in the streets, their worn collars turning upward as the wind breezes through the square. I notice that even dark haired residents from my part of town, still dusty miners and their child weary wives, are bustling through the handful of shops that line the train station. With the business Peeta had brought to town, and the upcoming holidays, even Seam folk were out purchasing wears.

I wonder, as Peeta's hand wraps around mine, what I would be doing right now if we had never come across each other that day in the woods. Would Gale and I be going door to door at the shops, thankful for the jump in income? Would Peeta and I have ever spoken, if not for that night? Or, would he have never noticed me, taken up with a pretty town girl and never looked at me twice?

As we pass through the crowds, people part around us, each head taking note of my closeness with Peeta. And then, out of the corner of my eye, I spot a familiar tug of dark hair zig-zagging through the crowds.

"Katniss," Gale stops at the edge of the gathering crowd, his eyes flitting to Peeta, then to the hand wrapped around mine.

Instinctively, I release the fingers I have entwined with Peeta. He glances downwards, his hand tightening against his side as he looks between Gale and I.

I don't even think about the ring on my finger until Gale drops his satchel to the ground.

"Katniss," his voice is hoarse, "what did he do to you?"

Author's Note: Let me know what you thought and have a lovely holiday!

As always, you can follow me on tumblr at starveinsafety, everlarkfanfictionclub, and everlarkfanfictionprompts. Special thanks to dandelionlass for resuming her position as beta and making this chapter readable!