Summary: **If you had a chance at what you never had but always wanted, would you take it?
He watched her through the small window set in the door. He could only see the side of her head, partially hidden by tangled dark locks, and her hands. She spoke with her hands, her gestures elaborating whatever point she was trying to make. Some motions were intricate and restrained, others wide and sweeping. Her eyes changed according to her mood: sparkling jade when happy or amused, olive when deep in thought, and storm-tossed seas when angry or frustrated. She tapped her foot when thinking about something. She bit her lip when nervous. She twirled her pen like a baton when impatient. Finnick Odair observed each and every one of these traits. He knew how she took her coffee, that she hated the color red, and that she preferred wildflowers over roses. But none of that knowledge got him one step closer to his goal – he wanted to know the real Annie Cresta.
They exchanged pleasantries often. He would pick her up a cup of coffee while getting his own. She would comment on an interesting news item and ask if he'd seen it. They were unfailingly polite and congenial. And Finnick was close to bursting. He didn't know how it had gotten to this point. It was like she had crept up on him when he wasn't looking. In their undeclared war, she was winning without having fired a shot.
He looked up and saw her staring quizzically at him through the window. He ducked back reflexively and cursed under his breath. What was he, ten? Mentally berating himself, he knocked sharply and entered. Annie caught his eye and smiled, gesturing to the row of chairs situated by the wall. She turned her attention back to the single session that she was currently conducting. "Okay, Beetee, I think we have made some real progress today. Please continue to work on those exercises that we covered and jot down any thoughts you might have. By the way, you were correct about that new application slowing down my tablet. I uninstalled it and found the one you suggested. It works great. Thank you so much." The boy's pale cheeks flushed and his eyes widened behind the thick lenses. He choked out a response and scuttled from the room. Watching him leave, Finnick stared again when he realized that Annie was studying him curiously.
"So, Finnick, what can I do for you?" she asked pleasantly. "Is this business related or strictly a pleasure call?"
"Uh, both I guess you could say," he stuttered and absently reached for his string, fingers itching to start knotting the cord. "I just thought I'd take you up on that offer to talk. That is, if you're not doing anything. If you're busy, I can come back later."
A small hand gently plucked the string from his numb fingers. Finnick's gaze swiftly flicked up to meet hers. Jade, he noted distractedly. "I'm not busy," she said. "Beetee was my last appointment for today." She gathered her things and turned to him expectantly. "I was going to pick up some coffee. You're welcome to join me if you like."
Finnick took a deep breath and blurted out, "Peeta told me about a restaurant his friend owns called the Mockingbird Diner. Gale said the food was pretty good and the desserts are great. Peeta apparently takes a few shifts. How about going there? It would be my treat, of course."
Annie smiled slightly and seemed to weigh her opinions. Olive, he thought before quietly cursing himself. "That sounds good. Peeta takes a few shifts, does he? Think we might be able to score some of those famous pastries? Johanna raves about them."
"You know, he is a good friend of mine. With the right incentive, I could be persuaded to acquire some baked goods," Finnick teased as he held his arm out to her mock-formally.
She rolled her eyes but slipped her hand through his arm. "Thanks anyway, but I don't think I could afford your prices."
Placing a hand on his heart, Finnick whined, "That hurts right here. I'll have you know, Ms. Cresta, that I can be quite reasonable when it's for a good cause."
"I'm sure you can, Mr. Odair." She returned. "I'm quite sure that you can."
Finnick caught his breath, adding yet another color to his mental list. Viridian for teasing. She was teasing him. This small talk thing had more going for it than he originally thought. He made a note to try this more often.
Prim sat cross legged on the bed, eyeing her friend in annoyance. "Annie said that you could get up and move around today. She said it would be good for you to get back on your feet. So that's what we're going to do." She grabbed the edge of the blanket and flipped it back. Rue caught the back corner and for a moment it degenerated into a full on tug of war for control of the bedding. Prim finally gave up and tossed the blankets over her head, enclosing her tent-like in the confines of the quilts. Rue tunneled her way out, giggling fiercely and promptly felt her breath whoosh out when a pillow solidly connected with her back. She wheeled around and caught Prim laughing maniacally, pillow raised to take another swing.
"Can't do that. Might break my stitches," Rue said, pushing the blankets down over her legs and slowly climbing to her feet.
Prim's face flushed bright pink and she dropped the pillow almost guiltily. "Sorry. I didn't think of that. Are you okay?"
"I won't break if that's what you're thinking," Rue grinned. "I just don't want to have to get stitched up again. I'm pretty enough as it is. Don't need any more scars."
Prim bit her lip at her friend's resigned tone. She studied her intently and felt a giddy rush of excitement as an idea hit her full force. "Rue, you're brilliant! That's the perfect reason to get you out of this room. Come on." She grabbed her hand and tugged her down the hallway. "You need a makeover. That always makes me feel better."
Rue's eyes narrowed doubtfully. "Don't know about that, Prim. I've never had much use for girly stuff."
Prim snorted delicately, "That's only because you haven't had a lot of chances to do girly stuff. It will be fun, I promise." She dragged the reluctant girl to the couch, rounded up her small array of supplies, and set to work.
Peeta entered to the sounds of shouts and laughter. Curious to what all the commotion was about, he followed the noise into the living room. He looked incredulously at the elaborately teased hairdos and painted faces. "Well, well," he commented into the racket. "Have we got big plans tonight, ladies, or are we entertaining here?"
"Peeta, don't be silly," Prim ordered. "He does this to me all the time," she explained seriously. "Just ignore him." The two flounced back down the hallway, Rue giving him an apologetic glance over her shoulder. Peeta just smiled and shook his head. It was good to see them play.
Prim handed over a fistful of wipes and while hastily scrubbing her face mumbled, "So what do you want to do now? It's still early."
Rue met her gaze and twisted the wipes between her hands nervously. Prim nodded encouragingly and finally Rue asked, "Do you still have that drawing? The one you did the first day?" Prim nodded and retrieved the notebook. She flipped to the one of her and Peeta baking.
Rue smiled and shook her head. "That's it. That's what I want to do."
Prim looked confused. "You want to bake? I don't know, Rue. I'm not much of a cook."
Rue seemed to withdraw slightly. "I don't want to cook. Not exactly." She hesitated. "I want a memory like that. The whole thing. I want to know what that feels like." She swallowed, tears coming to the fore. Swiping them away with a rough hand, she continued in a stronger voice. "My aunt usually left us alone. I had to watch out for the others as best as I could. I never learned how to cook, so most nights what we ate was cold. Some nights we didn't have anything." She flicked a hand negligently at the drawing. "I never thought it could be that way. Fixing dinner, watching TV, and just talking because you want to. I always wondered what it would be like to have a real family." She smiled wistfully, "I don't suppose we could do that?"
Prim chewed her bottom lip and looked from Rue's hopeful expression to the drawing. Her lips turned up slightly and she nodded, "Actually, I think we can. Come on, let's go talk to Peeta."
When Katniss stepped off the elevator, she was surprised to hear the faint sounds of laughter coming from her apartment. Curiosity got the better of her and she quickly dug her key out of her bag and let herself in. Once inside, she was greeted with absolute chaos. The counters were covered with bowls and a fine coating of flour. Two heads, one blond and the other dark, were studiously sifting flour into a large mixing bowl. Another blond head was supervising, his tone falsely grouchy as he retorted, "They are not awful. That recipe has been in my family for over fifty years. They are never awful; just not fully executed according to plan."
The sound of her stifled laughter gave her presence away and three sets of eyes quickly rounded on her frozen form standing in the front door. "You're finally home," Peeta declared. "Excellent! We have a big evening planned and just waiting on you to get the ball rolling." Wiping his hands on a dishtowel, he crossed the room to take her bag and keys, pausing only to drop a kiss on top of her head. Allowing him to lead her to the kitchen, she glanced about, amazed at the array of food on the stove, the only section of the kitchen not covered in flour.
"What's the occasion?" she inquired, amusement bubbling up at the giddy expression on the three faces. "You have enough food to feed an army over there. And unless I miss my guess, I smell cheese buns and pastries. You weren't kidding about a big night planned."
Peeta slung an arm around each of his assistant's shoulders. "I can't take any credit for it. Prim and Rue set up the movies, helped with dinner and dessert, and have basically ordered me around for the last couple of hours getting everything set up. Why don't you go get cleaned up and relax? Dinner will be ready shortly." The girls giggled at his antics and wiggled free. Prim started wiping down the counter while Rue transferred a plate of bedraggled pastries to a rack to cool. Katniss grinned to herself and headed for the bedroom to dress down for dinner. She felt lighter, as if a load had slipped away that she didn't even realize she was carrying. The clatter of dishes and the low voices made it feel like a home, rather than an intrusion into her private space. Pulling on comfortable sweats and a tattered t-shirt, she freshened up her braid and made her way back into the kitchen.
The transformation was quite remarkable considering the short amount of time the threesome had to work with. The counters had been restored to pristine condition, the dirty dishes rinsed and loaded into the dishwasher. Most importantly, the table was set for four and the meal was already laid out. Peeta, noticing her entrance, quickly pulled out her chair. He grinned at her stunned expression, while the other two giggled behind their hands. They finished the meal leisurely, chatting idly about nothing. Katniss looked mildly guilty as she snagged both a cheese bun and one of the chocolate and cream pastries Peeta was so adept at producing.
"I think you like the cheese buns better than the chocolate," he commented easily, watching as she devoured the roll. "Funny, but I would have expected the opposite."
She swallowed her mouthful and tore off another piece. "I like sweets just like any other girl. But these things," she took another bite and rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "These things should be illegal."
Once the dishes were rinsed and put away, the foursome adjourned to the living room. The girls debated the merits of several different DVD's before settling on some teen heartthrob comedy that Prim declared, "The absolute best movie ever made." Katniss chuckled at Peeta's expressive eye roll and he stage whispered, "I've seen this movie at least twenty times. My brain cells are getting to dangerously low levels. I lose at least a thousand every time I see the movie poster." He looked at the girls camped out on the floor in front of them, whispering and swapping the bowl of popcorn back and forth between them. "She really seems to be enjoying herself," he gestured. "Prim told me that she's never had a family night. She just wanted to know what that felt like." He shook his head, tears glinting suspiciously before he blinked them away. "I couldn't say no to that. Not when it's made her this happy. It's such a simple thing. Most people would never even think of it."
Katniss leaned into him, her lips cutting off the flow of words as she kissed him. She put every bit of feeling she could into the meeting of their lips, his startled blue eyes boring into hers before he gave in. He wrapped her up, pulling her tightly against him. They lost themselves in a haze of fire and heat, not noticing the two very interested onlookers. They broke apart to the sound of giggling, eyes locked as they fought to steady their breathing and pulse. "Katniss," he whispered. She met his gaze, eyes questioning. He let out a ragged breath, hands finding hers and twining them together. "I have to tell you something."
"What?" she asked hesitantly. Her brow furrowed at the nervous expression on his face. "What, Peeta? You can tell me anything."
A brief smile touched his mouth and his fingers tightened perceptibly on hers. She waited patiently for him to continue. He glanced at Prim and Rue, who suddenly decided that the movie was much more interesting than the show going on in the living room. Resolutely, he met her gaze again. "I didn't plan the timing, so I hope you'll forgive me. This isn't quite the scene that I had in mind."
"I don't understand. Timing for what, Peeta? What are you talking about?" Her concern made him smile, and he closed his eyes before taking that last leap.
"What I'm saying is that I don't need three months. I already know how I want this to go." Blue eyes collided with gray and her breath caught in her throat in anticipation of his next words. "I don't need any more time to know what I feel." His hand cupped her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw. "I love you, Katniss."
"Peeta," she breathed. She felt the old fears flare up, the panic that she would lose him if she allowed herself to care. A voice rang in her head that it was too soon. They hadn't known each other long enough to make that type of commitment. It was destined to fail. Alongside that was the part of her that wanted to be with him; that knew he would never hurt her, that wanted to take that chance. It was that voice she listened to as a watery smile bloomed on her face and she quietly returned, "Peeta, I love you too." With that, he pulled her to him and they curled up, completely oblivious to the two other people in the room.
Rue and Prim shared a small smile, and then turned back to the movie and bowl of popcorn. Rue leaned in and said quietly, "Do you think it was the cheese buns?"
Prim nodded back, laughing silently. "Had to be. That's the way we do things in this family after all."
Daniel Cato waited patiently until he was waved forth by a negligent hand. He took the proffered chair and sat quietly. When his report was wanted, he would be told. Until then, he knew enough to bide his time. Tongues had been cut out for less. He had no intention of being the recipient of that particular form of punishment.
The old man's hair was snow white, his eyes pale as ice in his white, ghostly face. His voice, low and raspy as a snake, hissed out, "What news have you brought me? Has the runaway been dealt with?"
"We haven't been able to locate her, sir. They have been removed from the Better Way facilities. We've scoured the spots she was known to frequent, but there's been no sign of her. The aunt isn't allowed access to the other kids, so she's useless for locating our wayward Tribute." Cato hesitated. "I've put some assets on the Mellark girl, but she's lying low too. Peeta removed her after our little initiation was discovered. The judge agreed to counseling and completion of the diversion program as a solitary participant. We can't use her to locate the girl. We don't even know if they have maintained contact. I can find no records that our girl was offered a similar deal."
"Leave people on them to see where they go. We just might stumble across her if we're lucky." The ice pale eyes gleamed in the low light. A pervasive odor of roses and blood seemed to cling to his clothing, making Cato's stomach heave. "The aunt is our one sure tool to unearth our errant Tribute. Tell her that I will arrange for visitation privileges for her with the other three children. It will be mentioned that Rue can speak with her siblings at a specific time each week via telephone. Advise her that cooperation will earn her a reward and our undying gratitude. Should she refuse, take her eyes. Should she still refuse, take her tongue. One way or another, our erstwhile Tribute will be returned to the fold."
Cato grinned in anticipation. The punishments were the most gratifying part of his association with the Gamesmakers. More than any drink, drug, or companion that he could dream up, the power over life, death and all levels in between was addictive. It crawled through his veins like morphine. It was the ultimate high and Cato reveled in it. He inclined his head, "I'll take care of it personally, sir. Do you want anything done with the Everdeen girl or Mellark's sister?"
Albert Coin's ice gray eyes hardened to glass. "I will have to think on that, Daniel. If they don't interfere, we will leave them alone. If they do get in the way, there are better methods than to remove them permanently. I will put some thought into a special reception for Ms. Everdeen and Ms. Mellark. It's best to be prepared, after all."
End Part 14