Chapter 40: Man and Wife and Child

I am pulled from my island arena, checked over by doctors for any injuries, and then released to my stylists so they can make me Capitol-pretty again. The next night is my interview with Caesar.

Unlike last year, Peeta and Riley are there to greet me when I walk onstage. Peeta pulls me to him by one hand and kisses me with all the passion he can muster. I close my eyes in blissful contentment and return his kiss. The audience goes berserk. When we break apart at last, I get to take Riley in my arms and rock her. Irrepressible joy is on her face as her tiny hands swat at my cheek, elated to have her mommy back again.

Peeta and Riley get to stay with me for my whole interview, and I am so grateful to be able to cling to them while my Games replays in full. Not every Victor has had such a luxury as that. In fact, none have.

Before I know it, the Victory Crown has been placed on my head by a clearly displeased, yet subdued President Snow, and my family and I are homeward bound to District 12.

It has been three months since I returned from the Games. In the Victor's Village house that Peeta, Riley and I all share, I check myself in the mirror one final time.

The white gown is strapless, made of a simple satin that hugs closely to my figure. Of course, the Capitol is upset that my dress is not as ostentatious as their tastes would like, but today is not about them. It's about me and Peeta.

Peeta and I discussed our wedding almost soon as we arrived home, and we quickly agreed that only a simple ceremony would do. We would go to the Justice Building, sign the papers. Absolutely no reporters allowed; the only guests would be Mother, Prim, Haymitch, Riley and Peeta's family.

Mother emerges from the bathroom. Her eyes fill with tears at the sight of me. "You look beautiful."

I turn back to my 18-month old daughter sitting on her parents' bed and strike a pose. "What do you think, Riley?"

My precious child makes the sounds that precede talking, but they are clearly ones of approval. Her father and I are anxiously awaiting when her first word will come, or what it will be.

I smile and scoop her up in my arms, touching noses with her. "Come on. Let's get me married to Daddy."

To avoid the paparazzi, we slip out the back of my house and just into the woods, walking along the edge of the treeline until we can see the rear of the Justice Building. Mother, Riley and I slip in through a back door and are led to the Clerk's office. The others, as well as a holy man, wait for us.

Passing Riley off to Prim, I approach my soon-to-be husband. He has eyes only for me, and I for him. The biggest smile lights his face.

"You look like an angel," he whispers to me, and I blush.

At the clerk's prompting, we sign the papers. Then, the holy man performs a brief ceremony where we exchange rings and then he blesses us.

I never intended to marry, or even have children, but as I look into Peeta's eyes, all the doubts that I ever carried about having a family are wiped away. We'll make it work. Somehow.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife." The holy man nods to Peeta. "If you like, you may kiss the bride."

I grip my simple bouquet a little tighter. Next second, Peeta pulls me into his arms and we lose each other, for one shining moment, in kissing each other, affirming our vows.

And when his lips draw away from mine, I am no longer who I once was. I am now Katniss Everdeen Mellark.

Of course, we had to placate the rest of the District, not to mention the Capitol, somehow. That evening, a huge Toasting is held, during which Peeta and I burn bread and then share it, sealing it with a kiss. Though the tradition is more raucous than most, I can't say I mind. Besides, no in Twelve feels truly married until they have done a Toasting.

I have the strangest feeling that I've been here before. In my blue Reaping dress, I find myself walking to Cray's house, only this time it's raining. The deluge of water keeps my hair matted down. Crying at what I must do, yards away from the Head Peacekeeper's door, light suddenly blinds me. I jump in fright, my body tightening like the animals that I hunt when they prepare to flee.

"Katniss?" the voice is gentle, and even against the harsh light from the kitchen beyond, I stare with dead eyes into the face of Peeta Mellark. Not him again! He is smiling softly, as if he is pleased to see me. "What are you doing out here?"

He looks me up and down, and suddenly the smile is gone from his face. He sees the dress, the clumsy make-up job, the high boots that don't quite fit on me….

Then his eyes shift down the street and I want to cry. He knows.

"Katniss, no." he breathes.

Now would be the time to run. But I tarry in indecision for a moment too long, and have only just turned when I feel Peeta's hand on my arm.

"Let me go!" I gasp out, threatening to drown in the tears about to appear in my voice.

"No, please, no…." Peeta's voice is just as hoarse, and I am startled to wonder if he is crying too. But I don't have much time to find out as Peeta drags me into the alleyway beside his door.

We stay in the shadows there, catching our breaths. Only now am I aware that Peeta's hands are about my waist, his fingers brushing the small of my back. The nerves in my fingertips signal to my weary brain that my hands are now pressed against his chest. I stare up into his face, my expression slightly agape.

It seems as though we are frozen in time and it allows me to better examine every detail of Peeta Mellark. The blond curls. Strong chin. I peer closer, gazing into his eyes - eyes as blue as a summer sky…..

I can feel Peeta drawing closer to me as well. My eyes grow heavy. My mind seems to have switched off, as I cannot find the words to tell myself to stop now before…. we…. kiss….

Our lips are mere inches apart now. I am only just aware that his one hand has now moved and is absentmindedly playing with my braid, when a banging sound breaks the spell around us. Oddly still staying in our awkward embrace, Peeta and I peer around the corner to see Cray's door open, its light illuminating at least half a dozen girls, desperate like myself. The Peacekeeper glances up and down the street furtively. He sees the Mellarks' door left open, but must not think anything of it. I can tell he does not see us. Yet, he stays where he is….. as if he's waiting for something….

My throat catches. Is he waiting for me?

He must be, for after a moment, seeing I am not coming, he sighs and picks the next best girl, swiftly bringing her inside and slamming the door. The other girls stumble off into the night.

No. That was my one last chance and now it's gone! I won't come home with a bag full of coins for Mother and Prim. We will starve. We will die. My baby will die…

Now the spell is really broken, as I push against Peeta's chest angrily; he readily lets me go. "What do you think you were doing?" I hiss. "I needed that!"

Peeta shakes his head determinedly. "Katniss, Cray is the last thing you need. Trust me."

"How would you know?" I bite accusingly, and to me, it is more than a fair question. How would he know? He doesn't know what's it like to starve. To feel there are no options left.

"Oh, believe me, I do. I've seen the girls leaving his place after their 'visits.' He's a monster." And I have never heard such venom in Peeta's voice, a boy known for his kind and sweet reputation.

Terror fills me, and I almost want to interrogate him for more details. What has he seen, coming out of that wretched house? Girls limping? Bloodied? Bruised? The only fear outweighing Cray's touch would have been what I felt like afterwards, or what might have been done to cause it.

"Wait here," and Peeta suddenly leaves me to go back inside, through the bakery door that leads to the alleyway. After a minute, he returns with a bag full of coins and presses it into my hand. I stare at it dumbly.

"Take it," he prompts, trying and failing to snap me out of my shock. I soon do, as my face hardens in indignation. I am reminded of Peeta coming to my defense in school and it only fuels my anger.

"Do you think I want your pity?" I spit. He blinks, perplexed. "I don't need you to save me!" I attempt to fling the money back at him, but Peeta stays my hand, forcing me to drop it to my side. His eyes are pleading.

"Katniss, if you won't help yourself, at least let me help you!" He begs. "I won't let you die!"

I can only stare at him. Then, suddenly, before I can react, Peeta hands cup my face and he presses his lips to mine in a firm kiss.

I let out an astonished, violent squeal into his mouth, but he merely encircles one hand about my waist, the other at my head, and pulls me flush against him. Only now do I try to push him away, when I clearly can't. His embrace of me is too strong.

I decide throwing the money bag at him might give me enough chance to get away. Yet before I can, the hand at my waist has snuck up to my wrist, staying my hand.

As Peeta's lips kiss my own, with a gentle persistence , I suddenly begin to feel something building. A fire, rising up through my core, my stomach. But it does not burn me. Only….. heats me.

And connected to this burning sensation is one thought, a logical one, the only one: I don't want the kiss to stop. I want more of them, and I want them from Peeta.

It is frightening conclusion, new and unfamiliar, but all at once, I decide to accept it wholeheartedly.

My fingers unclench from the money bag, and it falls into the mud.

"Hmmmmm….." My eyes droop closed and my arms go about the man before me. My hands stroke, caress, his fine blonde hair. My lips twitch back into his, mold themselves against his, as at last I kiss him back.

Realizing I am not pulling away, Peeta's hands boldly go to my thighs. He hoists me into the air and I let out a surprised squeak, tempered by his lips crushing mine. All I can do is fold my legs around his waist as he supports me.

His oh so gentle hands now slink up my creamy thighs, curve back the hem of my dress. My mother's garter rests there, and he reverently removes it, letting it fall into the mud alongside the moneybag.

Before I can blink, that same hand is within my panties, touching my most precious of spots. His fingers make my clit come alive as he thumbs the nub there tenderly, and then faster.

"Uhmmmmmmm….." I moan like a Capitol whore and roll my hips brazenly into his hand. The motion makes my intention clear: I want to engage in the most sacred act between man and woman. I want to make love to this man.

Soaking wet in the rain, Peeta shifts me in his arms and carries me, bridal-style, down a fleet of stone steps, into the heart of the bakery…..

The rain is still pounding heavily outside the window. Suddenly, within, a hand slaps the glass pane, before slipping down to leave a print behind.

Down in the basement of the Mellark bakery, my hands are grasping for anything and everything as Peeta makes sweet love to me atop bags of flour. We are naked, sweaty in each other's arms, our sopping wet clothes cast aside behind us. Peeta and I break our deep kiss and stare into each other's eyes.

"Put your hands on me, Peeta,"I whisper plaintively. I let him fondle my breasts, squeeze them. Soon his lips replace his hands upon my nipples. I arch into him, mouth dropping open into an embarrassing moan.

"Yes, yes, yes…" I wheeze, as Peeta simultaneously slides his member in and out, in and out, of my vagina. His hands grip my hips as he picks up the pace, pounding into me while nursing at my breasts like an infant. The heat of our union, the pleasure is so intoxicating, I want to scream.

At last, I let out an airy wail as I orgasm…..

I can feel my juices pumping, pulsing from me as I emerge into the conscious world. Shit!

Of course it was a wet dream! Although I wish it had been otherwise, Peeta's and my first time together was not that….. dreamy.

I leap out of bed and rush into the bathroom, where I strip and step into the shower. As I cleanse myself, I have time to think.

Thank goodness Peeta was not in bed with me just now. He had to stay late at the bakery tonight, and just spent the night with his parents. He had called, telling me to not wait up for him.

I'll just launder our sheets and my soaking pajamas and he won't be the wiser. It's about time we changed the sheets anyway.

Then, one other, more consequential thought enters my mind. My dreaming, fantasizing of my husband makes me realize:

I want to make love to him again.

I want to have a child with him. One that is his in every sense, biology and genetics included.

That very next November morning, when Peeta comes home, the bed has already been made and everything made as it was. Taking him into our room, I push him flat onto his back and deftly move to straddle him. I unbutton his shirt and push his pants down to his ankles. He now lies in all his beautiful glory before me, at my mercy. My husband smirks naughtily.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I missed you," I smile, kissing him tenderly. "And I've been thinking…. let's make a baby."

Peeta bursts out laughing. "You're being so forward. I love it!" he adds so I don't misunderstand his reaction as mockery.

I kiss along his jawline. "Which gender do you want?" I whisper in his ear.

"I don't make the rules, sweetheart," he cracks. "But if I could pick, I want a boy. One of each. Riley could have a little brother!"

"Then what are we waiting for, Mr. Mellark! Let's create our son!"

Peeta skillfully slips my nightgown over my head, revealing my nakedness. Squirming on top of him, I skillfully guide him inside of me and begin to bounce on him. As I suckle his Adam's apple, then his chin and finally his lips, my one hand finds the sheets which I now drape over us as we consummate our most precious ritual: sleeping together as man and wife…..

It doesn't take long for us to conceive. Within weeks, I feel the nausea return. Peeta buys a test in town. On Christmas Day, I discover I am pregnant…. with a little boy, just as Peeta wanted.

Our family will be a little bigger, a little more blended…..