A/N - Sorry, slight writer's block the last few days. Enjoy and comments always welcomed!

KPOV

"What the hell? Why does she want to be a part of my life now?!" I practically scream at Christian. It's obviously not his fault, but he just happens to be with me and I'm pissed. "She hasn't given a damn about me in years and now, because she heard I'm with you, which I still don't get how she even knows about that! Why would she care who I happen to meet up with? Dammit, why does she care?!"

"Katniss, sweetie, maybe she's trying to find a way back in." Christian says quietly. I'm thankful that he isn't stopping me from being mad, just letting me rant.

"Screw her! Find a way back in?! She had that chance when Peeta died. I could have really used her then! I needed her when Prim died too and she wasn't there. Hell, she wasn't even really there when my dad died! She totally zoned out and was non-functional for months! We almost died because she stopped being a mom! Dammit, Christian! She almost lost us then and didn't care!" Now the tears are coming, angry, hot tears. Christian holds his arms open, an invitation that I don't have to take and he knows that. I like that he's giving me the option. But I'm not ready to be held just yet. I shake my head and he puts his arms down sadly. "Christian, she almost let us die. Die! Because she couldn't pull herself together! I know what it's like, I do, but dammit, if I had kids, it would have been different. I wouldn't have let them starve just because I was in mourning, I would have made sure they had food, I know I would have! She shouldn't have had us! She shouldn't have ever had us!"

"Katniss don't say that! Whatever she has done to you, or haven't, never think that for a moment that you shouldn't have been born! I know enough of that kind guilt, believe me." He says, trying to calm me down by putting his hands on my shoulders.

"Christian, you know what? I think that you would know, but the problem is you were a little kid when your bad stuff happened to you, not almost twelve, not almost ready to of age to be reaped and killed in an entirely different way. When you're that little, you can forget that stuff, it can seem like it happened to someone else because you're so little, but when you're the age I was, you don't forget it, you can't forget it! I wanted to forget all of that! I wanted to never remember how hurt I was, how hungry I was, how I thought she didn't care about us as much as him! I wanted to forget how much it hurt when Prim died, when Peeta died, when my baby died inside of me! That's why I signed up for that stupid list and somehow I ended up getting picked by a guy who turns out to be a wonderfully thoughtful man, not some sleeze who will shoot me up with drugs or alcohol so that I won't remember how horrible my life has been!" Now I collapse into his arms and he hugs me tightly to him. We're still dripping wet, it isn't hot enough to stand around and get dry.

"Let's go back to the hotel. We'll get dry and you can rest." He says to me in a soothing voice, rubbing my back. He didn't seem to mind that I made his horrid childhood sound so trivial compared to mine, or else he isn't saying so.

I nod my head against his shirt, "Can we just stay here a minute please? I don't want to be cooped up in the hotel room just yet."

Christian runs his hand through my hair since it's fallen out of its signature braid while we were playing in the water. "Whatever you want, Sweetie. We can go back near the shore, sit on the sand, watch from there."

"That sounds better." I agree. I'm not lying that I don't want to be in the hotel room just yet. I hate that my mother has taken away the lightness we had just fifteen minutes ago.

We walk slowly back down to the water, just far enough away that the water can't touch our feet yet. As we walked, I couldn't keep myself from looking for her; make sure she was nowhere near me again. I don't want to see her now. I don't need her now, I needed her a year ago, I needed her five years ago, I needed her ten years ago. Now I don't need her to want to take care of me.

The sun's getting higher in the sky, warming us, drying our clothes a bit. I'm in sitting in between Christian's long legs as he is straddled around me. I'm feeling safe again, no threat from my mother or Gale, here with Christian. I lean back into him and he wraps his arms around my waist. Closing my eyes, I know that I could fall asleep comfortably here. Only the sounds of the waves and seagulls, the smell of the ocean and the freshness that only it can bring. I can see now why people like living here, but I want to see the trees back home, smell them.

"What would happen if we left here and went straight to District 12?" I ask, not speaking too loudly because I know he can hear me.

"Well, I don't know that I'd want to take Charlie Tango that far. I'd feel better taking the train or even a hovercraft. Why, do you want to leave here already?" He responds.

I shrug, "I don't know. I don't know what I want to do. It feels weird being here now that I've seen her, now that I said what I've been wanting to say to her for a long time now."

"Well, why don't we walk around, be tourists for a bit. We can grab something to eat, try and relax again by another beach. I think we should at least stay the night, the sunsets are supposed to be beautiful." He reminds me, nuzzling his nose in my hair.

I smile and bring my hand up to his face next to me. "Okay. I think I do want to change before all that though. I don't like walking around in a wet bathing suit. It isn't hot enough for it to really dry out here."

"Okay." He pushes me forward a bit so that he can stand up and then holds his hand out for me. Once we've wiped all the sand off of ourselves, he takes my hand again and we walk back to the hotel.

The woman at the front desk is the same one who was there when we first got in and she dons a bright wide smile as soon as she sees Christian come in. I stifle a giggle, knowing he's not interested. As we get closer, her smile turns almost clownish, it's so wide.

"We just need Ms. Everdeen's sandals please." Christian asks and she nods, her smile fading. I don't know what she was thinking might happen. Maybe in her daydreams he would just toss me aside and jump over the desk, showing her a bit of how sexy he really is. I really have to hold back my laughter when the thought crosses my mind. Christian looks down at me but says nothing, yet. She looks at me with a scowl. Ha! Be jealous all you want lady; he didn't dump me into the ocean and leave me! I feel giddy and childish and am happy that I do. "Have the Thomsons come back yet?"

"Oh, yes sir! I'm sorry. I'll page them right away!" She says, fumbling to pick up a small hand held phone and speaks into the receiver quickly. "Mrs. Thomson will be right out, Mr. Grey."

"Thank you." He takes a look at her nametag and then back at her. "Laura."

She beams at the fact that he looked at her name and chose to say it. I bite my lip, the only way I can keep from bursting. Luckily, Mrs. Thomson comes out from what I'm guessing are the offices. She looks like Mrs. Jones, but her hair is a little darker and longer. She's wearing a smart pale purple tank top and somehow professional plaid shorts with sandals. I guess in District 4 this is what you would be able to wear to work everyday. Especially if you're the owner.

"Christian! I'm so glad you came to visit us finally!" She exclaims as she comes around the front desk with her arm extended out. She knows she won't be hugging him, just a handshake and a pat on the arm. Seems odd, but I'm sure he isn't touchy feely with any of his investments. She looks over at me and smiles, "And you brought a guest?"

"Yes, Paige, this is Katniss Everdeen, Katniss, this is Mrs. Jones' sister, Paige." We shake hands and she gives me a warm smile.

"Katniss Everdeen? As in?" She starts. I just nod and she continues, "Well, welcome to our humble hotel. Are you finding the room to your standards?"

"Oh, yes, it's great. Much more than I could need." I compliment. "Ummm, who picked out the paintings that are all over?"

"I believe our daughter did. Do you like them?" She asks, probably having no idea why I like them.

"Yes, they're beautiful. Do you know who painted them by chance?" I ask her, curious to know if she does. Christian squeezes my hand and I look up at him. He doesn't say anything to me, but the question is in his grey eyes.

"I don't, they just have a symbol on them, and my daughter found them in a gallery in the Capitol. I wish I did though, I would love to get some new ones." She explains. "Would you two like to join us for a lunch in the veranda? We'll be eating in about an hour."

"Well, actually, we were just going to go upstairs and change, go into town for a bit, see the shops and things like that. Paige," Christian responds, "I don't think you'll find anything new by the artist. He died about a year ago."

"Oh, so you knew him, did you? Why does that not surprise me, Christian?" She questions him with a smile. She looks at me and then at him again, putting two and two together. "Oh! Oooh. I'm sorry; I didn't know that those were Peeta Mellark's paintings. I'm so sorry; I hadn't realized he had died."

"It's okay; I don't think a lot of people do, outside of District 12 and some friends." I tell her, willing for her eyes to go back to being stupidly happy. It's my own fault though; I shouldn't have mentioned that they were Peeta's. "If you want though, I think he did have some more oceanside ones done. They're at home, in District 12 though if you want to look at them."

"But wouldn't you want to keep them, dear?" She asks me, sounding all motherly and kind.

I shake my head, "Not really. I have the ones I really love, I wouldn't dream of giving those away. You're more than welcome to them. We can set something up later on, once I get back home."

Paige looks at Christian again and he shrugs his shoulders. "Well, sure then, dear. We'll set something up through Christian. I'll leave you two be now. Have fun and I recommend the farmer's market in the square. They have a bevy of fresh picked fruit today."

"Thank you, Paige. We'll come see you before we leave tomorrow." Christian says and then we head back up to our room.

I can feel Christian's eyes on me as I change and I turn to catch him staring. "What?"

"Nothing, sorry." He starts, looking away. Then he changes his mind and turns back to me, slipping different shirt on. "Why did you tell her you'd let her look at your husband's paintings?"

"Because they look good here and he would want that. There are a ton of paintings that have just been sitting in his room for the past year. It's time I do something with them. I'll only sell them like he did, that the money goes into the food banks or maybe some shelters. I won't make anything from them, just like he would have wanted. I know he wouldn't want them to just be sitting there anymore."

"Then I think a trip back home is where we'll go next. But I'd like to take the train there." Christian adds with a slight smile on his face. "That is, if you want to go still?"

I can feel the smiling spreading on my face, "Yes, I think you need to see just how good I am at what I do, since I know just how good you are at what you do."