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The bell above the door dings as they enter the bakery and the broad shouldered man behind the counter looks up from his phone, fixing a smile as he welcomes them in.

Prim returns the smile, leading them towards the counter, arms linked. Katniss pays little mind to the introductions and chatter of the man and her sister, staring disinterestedly at the display case of pastries until Prim’s voice close to her ear brings her back to the present, “He’s cute!” Katniss looks up to catch the back of the baker’s unnaturally blond head as he slips out through a swinging door behind the counter, “and I didn’t see a ring.”

“Yeah well I do,” she says, grasping her sister’s hand from under her arm, playfully waving it in front of them. “We’re here to talk wedding cakes, remember?”

Prim rolls her eyes, “don’t be obtuse: I obviously meant for you. Come on Katniss, how long has it been since you’ve been on a date?”

She shrugs, turning away. She hadn't told her sister about her last romance and recent split… if you could even call it that. Prim wouldn't understand - hell, Katniss barely understands. Nevertheless, she knows her low spirits haven’t gone unnoticed. Prim’s worried about her when she should be focused on the happiest day of her life.

Katniss smiles weakly. She’s trying. She really is trying. She’s here isn’t she?

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He’s just stepped outside for his morning break when he sees it: A dandelion growing up through a crack in the sidewalk behind the bakery; a burst of color among the drab winter grays. Spring is coming. He checks the date on his phone: March 20th - no, spring is here.

He’s been dragging himself around since January. Since he’s apparently missed their date two years in the future and Katniss had called off their correspondence.

But the dandelion has reawakened him.

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The bell above the door dings as they enter the bakery and the broad shouldered man behind the counter looks up from his phone, fixing a smile as he welcomes them in.

Prim returns the smile, leading them towards the counter, arms linked. Katniss pays little mind to the introductions and chatter of the man and her sister, staring disinterestedly at the display case of pastries until Prim’s voice close to her ear brings her back to the present, “He’s cute!” Katniss looks up to catch the back of the baker’s unnaturally blond head as he slips out through a swinging door behind the counter, “and I didn’t see a ring.”

“Yeah well I do,” she says, grasping her sister’s hand from under her arm, playfully waving it in front of them. “We’re here to talk wedding cakes, remember?”

Prim rolls her eyes, “don’t be obtuse: I obviously meant for you. Come on Katniss, how long has it been since you’ve been on a date?”

She shrugs, turning away. She hadn't told her sister about her last romance and recent split… if you could even call it that. Prim wouldn't understand - hell, Katniss barely understands. Nevertheless, she knows her low spirits haven’t gone unnoticed. Prim’s worried about her when she should be focused on the happiest day of her life.

Katniss smiles weakly. She’s trying. She really is trying. She’s here isn’t she?

Read Part 2 on Ao3

He’s just stepped outside for his morning break when he sees it: A dandelion growing up through a crack in the sidewalk behind the bakery; a burst of color among the drab winter grays. Spring is coming. He checks the date on his phone: March 20th - no, spring is here.

He’s been dragging himself around since January. Since he’s apparently missed their date two years in the future and Katniss had called off their correspondence.

But the dandelion has reawakened him.

Story Summary: He’d never coveted anything of his brother’s: Not the title, not the land, nor purpose. He’d never cared for any of it, until he’d met his brother’s fiancé.

Read from the Beginning

Peeta sits in his parlor in utter misery; a particularly difficult feat when surrounded by a veritable garden of floral arrangements.

Beginning | Previous

It’s not much of a conversation. Prim assents immediately, throwing herself in her sister’s arms and bursting into tears. Their mother nods, looking relieved and Katniss wonders if there was ever a plan beyond accepting defeat.

~~~

They meet at the justice building two days later with all the fanfare of a slag-heap-stitch-up. There’s no rented gown nor party to greet them outside, just an old reaping dress and the required two witnesses.

She forbade Prim from coming, as if anyone seeing the three together would determine the truth right away, with her sister’s peaked complexion and the miss-matched bride and groom. Instead she brings her mother and he brings his mentor.

Um... Hi.... I has an update. It's only been 8 years.

“We need to talk,” I tell him. Might as well get this over with. 

He nods and takes three steps toward me then stops. His whole body sways like a tree in a storm, lurching this way and that. He clutches at the doorframe, but it’s just out of reach.  For a moment, he stares at me before his eyes roll back into his head, and he stumbles and falls to the floor in a heap. 

I fly to his side only to immediately get doused with the contents of Peeta’s stomach.

Gross!

As I wipe the foul-smelling liquid from my chest, I say, “You know, if you didn’t want to talk, you could’ve just said so.”

It's been a hot minute, hasn't it? Oops...

You can find the chapter on FFnet or Archive of Our Own.

If you want to start from the beginning, Spectator is where you want to be. (FFnet or Archive of Our Own) I recommend Ao3 since everything is in a collection in reading order.

Thanks for sticking with me and supporting me!

Fic! Not mine, but my co-author's...and I beta-ed. So you should all go read and enjoy!

Prologue | In Trouble | A Proposition

But he doesn’t forget.

She wakes late the next day to find a slip of paper jammed under the front door; The stilted scrawl summons her to meet after sunset. She knew Haymitch was a miserable drunk, but never suspected he’d stoop to blackmail.

Fueled by her rage she storms off to Victor’s Village, pounding on the old mentor’s door until it finally swings open. Bleary eyed and disheveled, he doesn't seem surprised to see her despite her disregard of his note. He grunts and bids her wait by the gate, before disappearing back into his house.

She turns to obey when motion catches her eye; the curtains at the house across the street flutter closed and she scurries down towards the entrance, tucking herself out of sight.

Chapter 4: The Job Hunt (Pt 1)

Growing Pains

The latest chapter has been posted! Can't wait to hear all your thoughts.

In a Panem where Katniss and Peeta have both aged out of the Reaping, their lives technically free of the wrath of the Capitol, they both struggle to find their footing in the harsh realities of Twelve. Change is in the air though, and things are happening fast.

Beginning | Part 4

She had just gotten back to her desk from a break room coffee run when she noticed the mysterious magenta block on her calendar. She was certain it hadn’t been there when she got up from her desk and when she opened the appointment, there was no title or details. Pulling out her phone she frowned at the screen; nothing on her personal calendar either. She stood, ready to ask the receptionist when an imposing figure filled the doorway.

Enobaria Mellark. She probably should have expected this.

Continue Reading on Ao3

Beginning | Part 4

She had just gotten back to her desk from a break room coffee run when she noticed the mysterious magenta block on her calendar. She was certain it hadn’t been there when she got up from her desk and when she opened the appointment, there was no title or details. Pulling out her phone she frowned at the screen; nothing on her personal calendar either. She stood, ready to ask the receptionist when an imposing figure filled the doorway.

Enobaria Mellark. She probably should have expected this.

Continue Reading on Ao3

Where the Jabberjay Flies Chapter 3

Katniss films her first propo.

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Peeta.

Alive and well — maybe not well but alive and here. Away from Snow. Safe. Here. With me. In a minute I can touch him. See his smile. Hear his laugh.

Haymitch’s grinning at me. “Come on, then,” he says.

We didn’t have a chance to discuss my declaration after all. Having exhausted the spike of adrenaline, Peeta had nearly collapsed from pain and exhaustion. Then it hadn’t felt safe to talk while in the hospital wing for fear of listening ears. But under the covers of his bed, masked by the purr of the forced air overhead, Peeta finally speaks, “You shouldn’t have done that. Told them we’re married.”

“Always.”

In the twilight of morphling, Peeta whispers the word and I go searching for him. It’s a gauzy, violet-tinted world, with no hard edges, and many places to hide. I push through cloud banks, follow faint tracks, catch the scent of cinnamon, of dill. I feel his hand on my cheek and I trap it, nuzzling it to my face.