Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.
Heat
It's sultry hot, Madge can't even muster the energy to get up from where she's collapsed out on the back porch, sweating buckets. The bugs are the only living things making any noise with their incessant buzzing.
She hears heavy steps coming up the steps.
Sundayshe thinks lazily. Katniss must be there with strawberries for Madge's dad.
She opens an eye drowsily, expecting to see Katniss' somber face, only to find the scowling visage of her companion.
Madge shoots up in a panic, crossing her arms over her chest protectively, she hadn't expected him to come up on the porch, didn't bother with a bra. Normally, Gale stayed back, hung out on the lawn under the tree. She quickly glanced around him.
"Where's Katniss?"
His expression didn't even flicker. "Sick."
"With what?" She hopes it isn't too bad. There'd been a stomach bug running the course through the school just the week before they were let out.
Gale shrugs, holds out a little collection of strawberries.
Madge fights the urge to roll her eyes. Couldn't he even make polite conversation?
"I haven't got all day."
Apparently not.
Sighing, she pushes herself up and stumbles to her feet. Without so much as a glance in his direction, she brushes past him, into the house. He waits outside the door as she stands on her tip toes to reach the coins kept on the top of the icebox to pay for the illegal strawberries.
Her hand finds them, pulls too many out, then she marches back to the door, ready to be rid of her grumpy guest. She drops the coins into his open hand and grabs the strawberries as he turns and leaves without a word of goodbye.
"Nice talking to you," Madge mutters to herself as she watches him go.
He was nice to look at, but he had all the charm of a lump of coal.
She tosses the berries into the sink and heads back to the porch. Just as she's decided to flop down in the swing, she hears the unmistakable sound of loud male voices.
Curious, she creeps around the house, to the side Gale had disappeared to just minutes before, then up to the far corner. Squinting through the shrubs, she sees a group of white uniforms, Peacekeepers, new recruits, fresh from District Two and eager to prove themselves, something hard to do in Twelve.
They're circled around their catch, like vicious animals ready to devour their prey.
Knowing there's little she can do, but wanting to do something anyway, Madge plucks up her courage and steps out of the bushes, rushing over to whatever poor soul the men have cornered.
They don't even notice her until she's behind them, clearing her throat.
"May I ask what's going on here?"
The tallest, probably the leader of the little band, turns to her, eyes her up and down, grinning.
"None of your business."
Madge narrows her eyes, "I'm the Mayor's daughter and you're in my front yard. It's my father's business and if you don't tell me I'll go get him."
She would too. Her chin rises defiantly.
He sneers. "Fine." He reaches and pulls their catch forward, "Caught a poacher."
Gale, jaw set and eyes focusing on the ground, stands tall in front of her. His hair is a little mussed and his shirt more wrinkled, but he isn't bleeding, so they hadn't done their worst. Not yet anyway.
Madge thinks quickly.
"What makes you think he's a poacher?"
She already knows the answer, she'd seen the game bag on his side, which was now clutched in the hand of a pimply faced boy to Gale's left.
"He's got a bag of animals." The tall Peacekeeper tells her, mouth still turned up in a cold smile. "Caught him red handed with Capitol property."
Madge rolls her eyes and snatches the bag from the boy, opening it and looking inside.
"Vermin." She closes it and shakes her head, fighting off a gag at the sight of dead rabbits and squirrels. "I see nothing but vermin."
The Peacekeeper tries to take the bag back, but Madge quickly puts it behind her back.
"These rabbits were eating my garden and the squirrels were in our attic. Gale," she motions to him, "was kind enough to get rid of them for me. He isn't a poacher, he's an exterminator." She crosses her arms over her chest, hiding a flinch as the bag knocks against her side. "I told him to get rid of the awful things because I didn't want them in our yard, even dead."
The Peacekeepers exchange quiet looks of confusion, not sure if they should believe her.
Madge straightens her stance, narrows her eyes, challenging them to doubt her. Finally, they seem to decide there's enough plausibility to her story for it to be true, give Gale a little shove, knocking him into her and nearly causing her to drop his bag.
His hands catch on her shoulders and the perspiration that had soaked through his shirt wets the end of her nose when it bumps into his chest.
She jumps back and gives the Peacekeepers, already skulking off, a flat look.
Once they're gone she looks back to Gale and hands him his bag. "Here. There are new Peacekeepers, they'll be pains for a while, so be careful."
He doesn't say anything, just stares at her.
"Um, okay, well, 'bye."
She starts off, ready to resume her lazy day, when she hears his voice.
"Thanks."
It takes a second, but she turns around. It's the nicest thing he's ever said to her and she can't keep herself from seeing what a thankful Gale Hawthorne looks like.
"You're welcome."
She turns again, but he stops her.
"Hey, Undersee."
Madge turns back, uncertain what more he could possibly want to say to her. They were ending on such a high note.
"You should, uh," he smirks, waving his free hand at her chest, "probably start wearing a bra."
Her arms immediately cross over her chest, she'd completely forgotten. Face burning, but not from the blazing summer sun, she nods.
"Thanks."
He looks ready to burst into laughter. "You're welcome."
When she gets back to her porch she's sweating buckets, but it's no longer from the heat.