Hi. Anyone still here? Well… it's almost 3 months after Katniss' birthday… and 6 years plus 3 almost months after the last update, so… let's just say I'm celebrating my little relapse of '21. This one is very silly and indulgent. Have fun.

IV.

The Birthday

One thing Katniss almost gets.

Being out in the woods again feels like a celebration.

Katniss doubts it has something to do with the fact that it's her birthday, whatever Gale says. She doesn't really mind though, she can be Birthday Catnip for a day, now that she can walk in her woods firmly and quickly again, and even run a few steps up to Gale and swat his arm for calling her that.

The day is bright and beautiful, as if nature wanted to make her happy too, or at least make up for the last inconvenience.

Gale´s been bringing in decent hauls from his snare line while she was recovering, but Katniss is more than eager to contribute her share again, and sets out along a new game trail in search of something to shoot. Luckily, her aim is not out of practice, but she begins to tire out more quickly than she would have before the injury. When the path leads them to a small clearing, she's more than ready to take a rest.

A giant oak towers above, but one of its protruding limbs had been broken off, creating a dent in the dense canopy. Katniss lowers herself onto the fallen branch, stretches her aching knee and turns her face up to the sunlight filtering through the budding leaves. This kind of light is her favorite, a rare greenish-gold that lasts mere weeks before the leaves unfurl and mature.

Gale pretends to be more tired than she is just to make her laugh. He flops down into the lush grass right below her and leans his head back against the log with a loud huff, closing his eyes.

She looks down with a hearty laugh, and forgets to look away. Well, it's not like she has the opportunity to look at the top of his head all the time – unlike vice versa.

Gale's hair is a bit messy and uneven, gleaming black in the dappled light. His mother cuts it with the old shears she also uses for cloth, just like she does for his brothers. Once he'd jokingly asked Katniss to do it instead, and she less jokingly threatened to cut off his ear or worse. He hadn't asked since. It's getting too long again. Katniss catches herself just before she runs her fingers through it and lays her hand on his shoulder instead.

Gale turns to face her and lightly nudges her good knee with his nose. "Everything alright? Does Catnip need a birthday carry?"

She flicks his ear playfully. "No, just a minute and we can go on."

"Okay." He leans sideways against her knee to keep at least one ear out of harm's way and closes his eyes again. Her hand hovers uncertainly for a few moments, and ends up in his hair after all, thin brown fingers running through the black strands.

Gale opens his eyes sharply, trying to suppress a surprised – and pleased – shudder in order not to frighten her touch away. He gingerly leans into her palm and tries to look up at her, but she's gazing up, into the sunlight playing in the leaves.

Barely breathing, he suspects she can hear the racing of his heart above the rustling of the trees and remote birdsong. He almost thinks he can hear hers.

After a moment, she breaks the silence. "Gale?"

It takes him a moment to find his voice. "Yeah?"

"Thank you." The words come out so warm and sincere she almost surprises herself. "For everything you've done for us while I was… you know…" she wiggles her recovering leg a bit. "And for… uhh… carrying me home. I think I haven't said that yet. But thank you." She's still not looking at him and her hand slides along the nape of his neck back to his shoulder.

He exhales loudly, surprised and almost relieved that this was what she wanted to say. "No need to thank me, Catnip. We are partners, you don't owe me anything."

She finally looks down with a smile. When he says that, she believes him fully. She doesn't even know when she's settled on that decision, but it's a warm, welcome feeling.

He shifts to look her in the eye and answers her smile with a grin. "And I'm sure you would have done the same for me."

Her smile breaks into a laugh. "Yeah, I totally could have carried you home." Truth is, if something terrible ever happened to him, she would do her best, if not to carry him than to drag him home to safety, in her teeth if she had to, but she was very glad the need never arose.

"Of course, Catnip. I bet you are stronger than me."

That chases her glum thought away. "Yeah right." A beat. "What do you bet?"

He grins up at her. "Sae's soup back at the Hob?"

"I bet you told her it was my birthday and I'd get it free anyway."

"Wait, wait, Catnip, we already have one bet going."

She decides to go along with that ridiculousness. "And even if I were stronger, however would I prove it? I can't carry you now, I have a bad knee."

They both laugh at that. Gale jumps up and looks around, his eyes landing on a sturdy oak branch good eight feet off the ground. "See that? Do more pull ups and you are stronger."

She rolls her eyes. Not her forte, exactly, but she's getting into the spirit of the game. Gale likes to do that exercise sometimes, when they are eating well enough to have a bit of energy to spare. To keep his strength up, he says. After all, it's not like he could afford the regular wrestling club after school. Hunting comes first.

"I bet you can't do sixteen!" she yells after him.

Gale flashes her a grin over his shoulder. "You should do sixteen today, Birthday Catnip."

Before she scrambles from her seat to follow him, he jumps up and easily grabs the branch, the force of his jump carrying him halfway through the first pull up.

"That doesn't count," she insists, eyeing him critically.

"Alright, count from this one," he says through gritted teeth, breathless.

Unconsciously, she grits her teeth too. To keep his strength up, alright. More like to show off… But she is looking, and having to count is a good excuse to look, isn't it? He's not looking at her, instead stares intently into the canopy above him as he pulls himself up and then lowers back down. Feeling safely unobserved, she watches him: face flushed and lips parted (his, not hers, but she can't be quite certain), wiry muscles straining against his shirt and flexing visibly where the hem has ridden up above his belt and sharp hipbones.

She forgets to count, and luckily doesn't have to admit that, because he grits out a "Fifteen!" and jumps down, bending over for a few moments to catch his breath.

Katniss uses the time to catch her breath too.

Gale grins and walks a few steps towards her, his breath still heavy. "Your turn for the sixteen, Catnip."

Katniss strides under the tree, showing more confidence than she's feeling. "Alright."

She stops right under the branch.

In the space of a very awkward second, she realizes it's far above her reach and that she doesn't want to risk messing up her still-healing knee in stubborn attempts to jump that high.

She seethes in silence.

After the four years they've spent growing side by side and growing together, the two-year difference between them doesn't feel like much. Katniss hardly ever thinks about it at all, and she's almost made peace with the fact that Gale will always be a foot taller. Key word almost. In moments like these, it annoys her to no end.

Meanwhile, Gale has come to a similar conclusion. She catches just a glimpse of a mischievous grin before he grabs her by the waist and hoists her into the air.

"Up you go, Catnip."

She fumbles for the branch, and once she's holding on fast, Gale releases her and wisely retreats out of kicking range.

"Damn you, Gale!" she bites through clenched teeth, but heroically pulls herself up. Adrenaline carries her through the first few easily, with her arms strong from archery and everything else scrawny because even all their hunting is barely enough.

Gale cheers her on. "You can do better than me, c'mon, Catnip!"

"At… least… I… don't… have… to… lift…all… the… long… bones…" she grits in between, her chin barely coming up to the branch by the end.

"Long bones, yeah," he repeats, voice a bit strained, though he's not the one exercising.

Katniss is too proud to let go even as she falters, but she doesn't have to – strong arms are supporting her again, easily lifting her through the last few.

"Sixteen!" Gale announces and sets her softly on the ground. "Happy sixteenth, Catnip!"

Katniss leans against him, panting, not sure if she wants to kill him or kiss him, and doesn't have the energy to do either. Instead, she just slips her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his chest. "Ok I decided I'm not gonna shoot you for this. Consider that a belated present for your birthday," she mutters after a while.

"Thanks, Catnip. I appreciate that."

His eighteenth birthday was back when she was freshly injured, and all she's given him was an awkward one-armed hug from her bed, but he pressed his cheek against the top of her head and held her like it was enough. Just like he's holding her now. She can't see his face, but feels his deep, satisfied exhale, and the curve of his smiling mouth brushing against her hair, their heartbeats calming in unison.

A question occurs to her. "Wait, did I win or lose the bet?" Technically, he'd bet on her doing more and by helping her, cheated to win. Not like she cared all that much. It's been fun. She remembers his large hands encircling her waist - the same hands are rubbing her aching shoulders now – and heat rushes into her cheeks even though she's already cooled down from the exercise. Fun. She keeps leaning into his chest just so that he wouldn't see her face, and hopes it wouldn't burn right through his shirt.

"Nevermind. It's your birthday, dinner's on me."

"Because you'll get it free anyway," she grumbles with a laugh.

"Some of the best things are free, aren't they?"

She squeezes him tighter in agreement.

When they finally pull apart, Gale plants a lingering kiss on her forehead. "Let's go celebrate."