#i love that she is fully capable of barreling charlie out of the way of being leader for a sec and also how insane some of her notes

[horsebeast]

they should’ve let brittany pikmin 3 be even more of a little freak

[noradarhkpalmer]

when it rains, it pours

Title: when it rains, it pours

Rating: T

Pairing: Nora Darhk/Ray Palmer aka Darhkatom

Warnings: none

Summary/Notes:

The Legends stopped being Legends 18 months ago. That left everyone to either resume or find civilian lives. For Nora Darhk, figuring out civilian life has been more than difficult. And that's how she ends up on Ray Palmer's doorstep in the pouring rain asking for a place to crash for the night. Only she gets something more. Something she's always wanted.

There will be an epilogue posted sometime tomorrow!

As per usual I blame these following hooligans: @princesstomaz, @timetravelingpalmer, @superstitious19, @jakelovesamy, @truelittleblackstar, and @iaintnosidekick.

ao3 link: here

The small awning above his front door was the only shelter that had been provided for her for the past four blocks. She had seen lights on and rang the doorbell a few times but no answer. And of all the things she was worried about, Ray just not being home wasn't one of them. She had fully expected to come all this way from the shelter to find a woman answering the door. She’d ask to see Ray and then Nora would zero in on the rock on the woman’s finger. She wouldn’t be the least bit surprised in the year and a half since she had seen Ray Palmer that he would have found someone and settled down. Just like he had always wanted.

They’d sit across from each other on his bed eating some healthy meal he had prepared, talking about life and what it would look like if they ever stopped being Legends. She wanted to subtly, not so subtly hint that any time she thought about life after the Legends, she always pictured him by her side. But she always chickened out when it came to verbalizing that.

The day they stopped being Legends came a lot sooner than any one of them ever thought. They had literally been to hell and back together as a team but that didn’t mean their story was over. But one bad temporal storm put the Waverider out of commission indefinitely, and then permanently when the Time Bureau was absorbed into governmental agencies, both secret and public.

Before being completely dissolved Nora and a few others (Zari and Charlie) had been given modern day identification papers, that way no one would question any of them if they needed to get a job or a place to live. Given that Darhk was a pretty distinct last name, all of her papers said Nora Adams, after her mother’s last name. But inside, she was still a Darhk, they couldn’t take that away from her, no matter what silly little papers said. She had gone from wanting to completely get away from the legacy her father left behind, to vehemently preserving her personal history. To hold onto some semblance of identity she had created for herself as Nora Darhk after no longer being a demon vessel.

She rung the doorbell a fourth time and finally the door opened. Her breath left her. He hadn’t changed a bit. His hair was a bit shorter but other than that, he was still her Ray. Well, he’d never technically been hers. No matter how many times she had dreamed he one day would be.

“Nora?” He looked past her into the raging thunderstorm outside. He was hard to hear over the rain and the water draining off the awning. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I crash for the night? I just… I really need a place to stay.”

Within ten minutes she’d changed out of her sopping wet clothes and into a large navy blue shirt with an art festival’s logo on the front and she definitely had noticed the Palmer Tech logo on the back under the sponsors. She’d also been given sweatpants too large for her, they dragged the floor a bit and she had to roll the waistband up a few times but both articles of clothing were dry and that was all that mattered. She used the towel she’d initially dried off with to squeeze the excess water out of her hair. When she returned to Ray’s living room, she saw him stoking the fireplace.

“Thanks for the clothes,” she said quietly.

Ray turned around, almost shocked to see her there, in the flesh, after eighteen months of radio silence. “You would’ve caught a cold staying in the wet ones. I went ahead and put them in the wash so they’ll be clean, I hope that’s okay.”

Nora smiled at his gesture. Always wanting to look out for people. “Totally fine.” She walked further into his living room. “Sorry to barge in like this… I probably scared your family.” She looked towards the stairs where his family had no doubt been instructed to wait while he saw who was the impatient intruder.

Ray shook his head with a sad smiled. “I don’t have a family. I mean I have my mom and my brother and his wife and my nephews but I’m not married.”

“I guess that’s why you gave me your clothes to put on and not your wife’s.”

“Cause I don’t have one.” Ray picked up a mug and offered it to her. She took the calming tea and let the warmth from the mug bloom across her hands and up her arms, right into her cheeks, to mask the fact that she was so incredibly torn by the fact that Ray had not in fact settled down quite in the way she thought.

They sat across from each other on the couch, cross legged, much like they had when they’d sit on his bed and eat dinner on the Waverider. The ghost of the memory caused Nora to shiver and Ray reached for the knitted throw that was on the back of the couch and gently draped it around her.

“So you’ve got a house in the suburbs of Star City but no Christmas card Palmer family inside it?”

“I don’t live totally alone.” Ray whistled and Nora heard a thumping from above her, she looked up at the sound of the noise which quickly traveled over to the stairs until the pitter patter of paws barreled down the stairs and over to her, nearly knocking her tea out of her hand.

“Whoa boy, let’s not scare our friend here.” Ray gently tugged the large goldendoodle over to him and scratched him between his ears. “Nora, meet Chewbacca, or I usually just call him Chewie.”

Nora smiled and hesitantly reached out to pet the pooch between his ears. He leaned into the pet and smiled up at Nora. “Hey boy… you’re as hyper and friendly as your dad I see.”

“I got Chewie about six months after I moved here. It was lonely without well an extra eight people constantly stomping around. Chewie can sometimes make about that much noise so, it’s a welcome comfort.”

“At least you don’t have to share a bathroom with him.” She smirked and took a sip of her tea.

Ray chuckled. “Yeah, that’s definitely the biggest benefit to living off the Waverider.”

“For some.” Nora looked down at her mug and watched the steam swirl in the cup.

Ray placed a hand on her arm. “Is everything okay?”

“Do you want the long answer or the short one?” She looked up at him, she had learned long ago how to open up to him but a lot could change in 18 months, and if he didn't want to hear all of it anymore, she'd understand.

“Long, if you need to get it all out, Nora, do it. I’m here.” Ray rubbed her bicep comfortingly.

“The Bureau, before they were dissolved, set me up with basically any type of I.D. I’d ever need which is good and it no longer says I was born in 2003 on my driver’s license and they also gave me money to get started because they knew not all of us had lives to just resume. Me and Charlie and Zari all had an apartment on the south side of Star City but they got married and I had to find a place and because it was down to just me and I didn’t trust anyone else to live with, the money ran out. I can’t exactly put ‘demon vessel’ on a resume and I don’t really have the best temperament so working somewhere in like a retail environment… let’s just say it would be worse than Sara’s stint at “Shower, Sink, and Stuff”. I’ve been hopping from homeless shelter to homeless shelter for the past four months.”

Ray paled. “Nora… why didn’t you come find me at Palmer Tech? I would’ve given you a job. Even a job in mailroom would put a roof over your head. I make sure every one of my employees can provide for themselves.”

“I don’t really have the skills to warrant working at a tech company. I can hack computers but I really don’t think you want that.” Nora shook her head. “Besides, I don’t want a hand out. I can take care of myself.”

“Can you? I don’t mean that to say you’re an invalid but I think sometimes, part of taking care of ourselves is knowing when to ask for help. If you don’t have anywhere to go, you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you want.”

“It’s a big enough house.” She chuckled.

“My hopes and dreams were a bit ambitious when I first left the Waverider. Picking back up at Palmer Tech wasn’t really all that hard. But my family still doesn’t really talk to me and Team Arrow is more than capable to continue doing the superhero thing without me and honestly? Seeing Felicity and Oliver and their growing family would've just been too hard.”

“Because you wanted that.”

“Maybe I wanted it with Felicity for a very short time but she was honestly such a blip in my love life. I’ve kind of given up on thinking someone would want me for the long haul, ya know?”

Nora placed her hand over his. “Don’t give up hope. The person that deserves Ray Palmer needs to have solved world hunger or something. She’s out there, Ray, I promise.”

Ray took in a deep breath, looking like he was gearing up to say something a few different times, but losing his nerve. He finally looked down at their hands, and tangled their fingers together.

“I know our lives are going in two different directions but… I feel like… you should know… I had feelings for you at one point. But I never wanted to pressure you into something you didn’t feel. You’ve had enough of your choices taken away and I…”

“I had feelings for you too.” Nora swallowed hard. She wanted to tell him how she still did. But his had probably faded, and like him, she didn’t want to force him into something he didn’t feel.

“You did?”

Nora nodded. “But I was saving you the heartbreak of having to deal with someone so broken. I’m not exactly the easiest to get along with.”

“I always felt so much more at ease talking to you than I did any of the other Legends.”

“That’s cause I was your little pet project. Operation Turn Her Good.”

“That’s not why. And you weren’t my pet project, you were my friend. You are my friend, Nora.”

“And being with me would just be holding you back… I’m just old broken baggage, Ray.”

“You’re not… Nora you’re… I didn’t…”

“You should be having this full life, Ray. I know that looks different for everyone but you told me so many times what that would look like for you.”

“But when I stopped being a Legend, yes I did want to settle down and have a family but the person that I pictured all that with? I didn’t see her anymore so I just didn’t even try to find it with someone else.”

“Doesn’t mean you want me now. Or should for that matter.” Nora sat her mug on the coffee table and stood up. “I’ll umm…” She scratched her head. “I’ll come back for my clothes tomorrow… I’ll find a laundromat to wash these in or something… I’m sorry, I should go.” Nora made her way to the door and was nearly reaching for the doorknob when she felt a hand tug her back. Ready to fight Ray (verbally) to get him to give up, realize she wasn’t worth it, she turned around, and was instead met with his lips.

And her resolve to fight him completely shattered.

Nora wrapped her arms around his neck and he picked her up to kiss her better. Nora wrapped her legs around his waist and soon Nora felt her back press against the front door. She felt the vibrations of the storm raging outside against her back and it only fueled her need to keep herself as glued to Ray Palmer’s body as possible.

Ray pulled back briefly for air. “I do want you now. You’re the only person I want this life with.” He pressed their foreheads together.

“I want you too.” She pulled back a little to look his eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Ray kissed her again, moving them from the door, to up the stairs, and up to Ray’s bedroom.

xxxx

Nora wasn’t sure where she was. Whatever mattress she was laying on was far more comfortable than any she’d slept on since the Waverider. Nora went to bury her face into the pillow but was met by the warm bare chest of Ray Palmer. Nora looked up and finally realized where she was.

She looked down at their state and smiled. She curled into him further and he tightened his arms around her. Nora rested her head on his chest, letting his heartbeat fill her ear. Soon she felt fingers trace up and down her bare spine and she looked back up at Ray to see that he was indeed awake.

“Mornin’ handsome.” Nora grinned and leaned in to kiss him softly.

“Good morning.” He smiled.

“Did last night really happen?”

“You tell me.” He tugged the sheet down slightly to expose them to the cool air.

Nora gasped in feigned offense and dragged the covers back up over them. She moved off him, she'd been half laying on his body, and instead curled up next to him on her own side of the bed, facing him.

Ray ran a hand up and down her arm. “How are you?”

“I’m laying in bed with a man I harbored feelings for, for nearly two years, and he loves me back. I feel pretty amazing.” She grinned goofily and buried her face in her hands out of embarrassment.

“That man is taking you in as well.”

“Ray…”

“If you don’t want to live here, not sure why, all the beds are this comfortable.” He made her grin at his comment. “Then at least let me find you a job at Palmer Tech so you can get your own place.”

“Not going to just buy me an apartment?”

Ray chuckled. “I can if you want me to.” He grinned.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” She poked him in the chest. “But you know what… I think I would like to stay here. Right here. In this bed.”

“Really?” Ray swallowed hard, inferring her more than just joking implications.

“Really.” Nora pulled him in for a kiss. “I wanna stay here forever with you.” She pressed their foreheads together. “And I don’t want to waste any more time.”

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday, laurabaptista!

Apologies to @laurabaptista for the short delay on your gift. We hope you had a wonderful birthday and celebrated in style! To keep the party going, @ally147writes has written a story just for you!

AN: Happy birthday to the prompter! I hope you had a wonderful day :) This story was inspired by my own beagle adoption a few weeks ago. The story didn’t end up quite as cutesy as I’d hoped for a single parents!Everlark fic, but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway.

Unbeta’d. All errors are my own.

‘Dog Days’

Peeta’s run out of excuses.

 The questions have been building up for almost a year, since one of Charlie’s classmates brought theirs in for show-and-tell. Peeta miscounted the kid’s parents’ orders of bread rolls and cookies for a month after that in thanks for the non-stop barrage of questions that had been invited into his life:

 “I want a puppy, Dad!”

 “But Damien has a puppy, Dad!”

 “Can we get a puppy, Dad?”

 “Why can’t we get a puppy, Dad?”

 “Dad! Can we get a puppy, please?”

 “Dad? Dad? Dad? Dad? DAAAAAAAAADDDDD?”

He caved, as he knew he always would. He can’t say no to his own little mini-me, not when he turns on those big blue eyes and juts out that bottom lip. He’s been a slave to his son since the first time he laid eyes on him.

 But he’ll be damned if he capitulates to a puppy. Puppies take work, and mean time off from the bakery that he can’t afford to take.

 Compromising with a six-year-old is a task in and of itself, but he steels himself, and waits for a time when Charlie should be at his most amendable.

 So, like the sneaky wimp he is:

 “What if we adopted a dog that’s a tiny bit older?” he asks as Charlie’s wrapped up in his fluffy bedspread, right on Sleep’s door. “What do you think about that?”

 Charlie eyes, hooded and blinking just a moment ago, widened and glittered. “Really? You mean it?”

 Peeta smiles and smooths back Charlie’s messy curls, so much like his own when he was that age. “I really do.”

 Charlie yawns again and settles back against his pillows with a smack of his lips. “Awesome,” he says, the word slurring as he starts to fall asleep.

 Peeta pads back down the stairs and tosses himself atop his bed. His laptop is waiting, open. He’s scoured different adoption sites, the local pound, even local listings, but nothing seems right.

 After a few more cursory searches, he comes across a Facebook page dedicated to rehoming dogs in his local area. He skims through the listings; some are obvious scams, pictures of too-perfect puppies frolicking in too-perfect fields for a too-perfect price. Some are in the golden years of their already short lives, and as much as he’d love to rehome an older dog, he can’t have Charlie get too attached just to break his heart so soon after.

 There’s a listing at the bottom of the page that looks promising, but the date next to it tells him it’s been up for almost a month. He clicks on it and gasps. It’s perfect.

 A little beagle, female, only a year old. Artemis, or Artie for short. Fully vaccinated and vet-checked, microchipped and insured. Likes walks and loves small children. Toilet-trained and good on a lead (or as good as a beagle can be). Comes with own bed and toys. They’re asking a two-hundred-dollar fee plus rehoming costs, but compared to some of the local breeders and pet stores he scoped out early on, she’s a bargain.

 He types out a quick message on his phone to the seller, asking if the dog’s still available, and sends it off before he can second-himself. He feels almost nervous — like he’s put himself on display or something — as he sets the alarm on his phone (just a precaution; he hasn’t slept past five in the morning in years), sets it on his bedside table, and melts back into his pillows.

 XXX

 When he breaks for lunch, he has a response from the seller. His eyes grow wide as he looks over the long-winded message, more like a detailed questionnaire quizzing him on every aspect of his life to gauge his suitability for dog ownership as though he’s adopting a child.

 He supposes he shouldn’t mind all that much — if it were him parting with a beloved pet, he’d want to make sure it was going to the right home, too. But if this was the treatment they were bestowing on every potential adopter, it’s no wonder the listing was so old. He doubts anyone could live up to these expectations.

 He keys in his answers to all the questions as best he can: he’s a baker and usually done with work by two or three at the latest; unmarried but with a six-year-old son; yes, he’ll have plenty of time to take Artie for walks in the afternoon; he hasn’t owned a dog since he was a child, but he remembers it well (and besides, that dog was a basset, so he’s got experience with hounds) and so on and so forth until he’s sure this person knows him better than everyone else in his family.

 Peeta sighs and sends the responses off, but he doesn’t have a good feeling about any of it.

 XXX

 Peeta’s in his car waiting for Charlie’s class to break for the day when his email pings again.

 It’s another response from the seller, with another list of questions. Peeta tips his head back against the top of his chair and sighs before preparing his new answers, but a small note at the bottom catches his eye.

 If you’d like to meet Artie, I’ll meet you at the park on 12th, by the Snow statue, this Saturday at eleven.

 Katniss

 Katniss. He rolls the name in his mouth. He’s never heard anything like it before.

 He’s finishing off his responses and telling her, yes, he’d love to meet Artie this weekend, when Charlie comes barrelling into the back seat with the cacophony of noise only a six-year-old is capable of.

 “Hey, Dad!”

 “Hey, bud. How was school?”

 “Good! Ms. Rue brought in cupcakes ‘cause it was her birthday.”

 “Cupcakes, huh?” Peeta pulls out of the parking lot and turns out onto the main street. “Were they better than mine?”

In the mirror, Charlie fixes him with a look of uncharacteristic seriousness. “No one’s cupcakes are better than yours.”

 “Glad to hear it.” They coast past the bakery and out of town, where houses are lined up neatly like rows of trees in an orchard. “Hey, bud, wanna come to the park with me this weekend?”

 Charlie’s too invested in his dinosaur figurines — which Peeta remembers telling him he couldn’t bring to school — to give him more than a passive, “Hmm.”

 Peeta smiles to himself as he turns onto their street. “We’re going to meet someone.”

 The dinosaurs crash together in epic battle. “Uh-huh.”

 “And maybe, if all goes well, we’re going to bring her home.”

 “Her?” Charlie drops his dinosaurs and fixes Peeta with a wary look. “Who’s her?”

 Peeta pulls into their driveway and spins in his seat, grinning as he flashes the picture of Artie from her adoption listing. “Her name’s Artemis.”

 “A dog? Charlie’s eyes blow wide. “We’re gonna get a dog!”

 “Maybe,” Peeta says as he climbs out of the car. “We have to meet her first.”

 “What sort of dog is she?”

 “She’s a beagle.”

 “What’s she like?”

 “I don’t know, bud. We’ll meet her on Saturday and find out.”

“Do you think she’ll like me?”

 “I don’t see why not.”

 “What does she like? What’s her favourite food? What are her favourite games? What are…”

 Peeta sighs and takes Charlie’s backpack from the back seat. Maybe he should’ve waited until Charlie was half-asleep again before he said anything…

 XXX

 Come midday, the sun is high and bright in the sky. Peeta curses to himself; why didn’t he bring sunscreen? He can almost hear his skin sizzling.

 Katniss is late. By almost an hour. He and Charlie have made lap after lap around the park, the stern, cold eyes of the Snow statue following them all the while.

 “We’ll give it another ten minutes,” Peeta says as Charlie takes huge gulps of water from an overpriced bottle. “If they’re not here, then we’ll go.”

 Charlie almost chokes on his water. “But, Dad!”

 “I know. But they’re running late.” He glances down at his phone, shadows it with his free hand from the glare, but there’s no new messages or anything. “Maybe they’ve changed their minds.”

 Right as the words leave his mouth, he knows he’s wrong.

 Tentatively approaching them is a beautiful woman, maybe his own age, with jet black hair that glows like embers in the high sunlight and warm olive skin, holding a massive bag in one hand and a leash in the other. His heart kicks up into overdrive; he’s never felt such an instantaneous, overwhelming reaction to a woman, not even Charlie’s mother. Even without the small dog with a pink collar loping along at her side, straining on her leash to sniff everything in the air, he knows this is Katniss. Somehow, no other name seems to fit.

 Trotting beside her is her tiny, adorable miniature, a little girl of maybe three or four clutching the woman’s hand, with cheeks so red he thinks she must have been crying.

 His heart feels like it’s hopped up into his throat as she comes closer, closer, and pauses in front of him. His mouth opens and closes, and he can just about feel his brain try to make speech happen, but it’s just not working. She’s not just beautiful: she’s radiant.

 She tips her sunglasses down her nose and inspects him with silvery eyes that are red around the edges.

 “Are you Peeta?” she asks, her voice coming out low and sultry, like smoke and fire.

 “Yeah.” His voice breaks. He clears his throat. “Yeah,” he tries again. “You’re Katniss?”

 She gives a terse nod.

 “Sorry we’re late,” she says. “We had a few things to do before we came, and they all ran late.”

 “Aww, cool!” Charlie leaps in front of him before Peeta can say anything more. He’s on his knees before Artie, patting her fur and scratching behind her floppy ears. “She’s so cool! Are we keeping her, Dad?”

 Peeta sends an apologetic smile Katniss’ way; her lips stay in the same tense, unmoving line.

 “Don’t know, Charlie. That’s up to Katniss here.”

 The line of her lips softens just a fraction, the corner quirking up into the tiniest of smiles.

 “She’s adorable, by the way.” Peeta grins and squats down to pat Artie. “Why are you selling her, if you don’t mind my asking?”

 “We had to move,” she says, with a sharp edge to her tone. “We can’t keep her in our new house. The new landlord’s kind of militant about pets, we’ve heard.”

 “That’s too bad.” He holds out his hand for Artie to sniff, but she doesn’t seem too interested in him. “What does your… husband think?”

 She quirks a brow at him. “No husband,” she says. “Just me and Violet. And even if there was, I doubt it would change things.” She coughs. “So, is your wife excited?”

 He grins up at her. “No wife. Or husband for that matter. Just me and Charlie, looking for a new friend.”

 She huffs a tiny laugh and quickly coughs to disguise it. Peeta’s grin spreads even wider.

 “Anyway, I took her to the vet yesterday,” Katniss says, her grip on the leash tightening as Artie tugs away. “She’s all healthy, and she had a bath and got her claws trimmed.” She taps the faded cloth handbag hanging ting at her side. “All we need is for you to sign the transfer papers.”

 Peeta’s gaze shoots back up to her face. “Excuse me?”

 “I think…” She trails off, sucks in a huge gulp of air. “I just want what’s best for Artie, and I think that’s you.”

 “What, really?”

 “Yeah. You gave good answers to all my questions. And you look…” She shifts about and gives him a sidelong glance up and down out the corner of her eye. “I don’t know… active.”

 He grins at the flush that takes over her cheeks.

 “That,” she quickly goes on, waving at Charlie and Artie playing on the grass, “and your son seems to really like her. I think they’ll be good friends.”

 At that, the little girl at her side turns bright red and ducks her head against Katniss’ leg. Her little shoulders start to shake. Peeta can just hear her muffled voice: “No, mama. No Artie.”

 Katniss sighs. “Violet, please. It’s all right. Artie will be happy with them.”

 Violet shakes her head, presses even closer to her mother’s thigh. Katniss sighs again and brushes her hand through her daughter’s hair.

 “She’s not taking it so well,” Katniss explains in a low whisper.

 Peeta nods, reaches out a hand to set against Violet’s tiny shoulder. The little girl shakes her head and presses even tighter again.

 He sighs and stands as Katniss leads him over to a park bench. The only words that pass between them are Katniss pointing out where on the forms he needs to sign. Three signatures and two-hundred bucks later, he’s a dog owner.

 Somehow, it all feels so wrong. Not even Artie seems enthused. The only one having a good time in all of this is Charlie.

 “She’s not very good off a leash,” Katniss says, her voice wavering. “She’ll follow her nose to the ends of the earth. And she runs fast.”

 “Katniss,” he starts, but she ploughs on.

 “She’s a bit weird with things that have wheels: skateboards and trolleys and things, so be careful if you’re walking her in busy places.”

 “Katniss.” He thinks she’s about to burst into tears.

 “And you can’t give her too many snacks. She’ll eat everything if you let her.”

 “I’ll remember.” He stares down at his hands folded in his lap. He never expected to feel so… evil.

 “And, also, please, just…”

 He can’t help himself; he wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her against his side. He half-expects her to scream, shove him away and run off into the dense packing of trees bordering the park. But she doesn’t. Instead, it’s as though all the fight drains from her. She goes slack against him leans into him, presses her face into the crook of his neck for one, two, three seconds, enough for him to catch the soft citrus scent of her hair. He swallows at the warmth of her breath puffing against his skin, fights a shiver clawing its way through him.

 “Sorry,” she mutters before pulling away with a massive sigh.

 “Don’t worry about it,” he murmurs. Even with the warmth of the day, when she moves off him, he feels cold.

She schools her expression into a scowl and stands, wrapping an arm around Violet and handing over Artie’s leash. She drops the massive bag at his feet and he peers inside; Artie’s bowls, a folded bed, toys and snacks. God, he feels even lower.

 “Please, just… take good care of her, all right?”

 Before Peeta can say another word, Katniss is picking up her things and herding her daughter to the nearest exit.

 “Dad! We’ve got a dog!” Charlie positively beams and he scratches Artie around the ears. Artie’s just watching her family fade towards the parking lot with the sort of forlorn expression naturally on most beagles.

 “Not so rough, bud,” he says as he watches them leave. “She’s only a little dog.” He sighs and stands, bogged down with bags. “Come on, let’s get her into the car and head home, so she can check out her new yard.”

 Artie follows with little fuss to her new car. She hops into the back seat and Charlie tumbles in after her, his huge grin not wavering once. Peeta feels his guilt lift at the sight of his son so happy.

 He settles himself in the driver’s seat and drops his keys at the sound of his name, muffled through the window.

 “Peeta! Wait!”

 Katniss is sprinting towards him, on her own this time. He smiles as she approaches, winds down the car window for her to lean in. “Is something wrong?” he asks.

 She stares into the back of his car. For a second, he thinks she’s going to reach over, take Artie back, and run full-tilt the other way. Instead, she sags against the door and looks at him imploringly.

 “Look, I know I don’t owe you anything, but do you think…” She sighs, glances over to where her car must be parked. “Do you think you could send some pictures when Artie’s all settled? Just so Violet knows she’s doing all right?”

 He nods, a little too enthusiastically. “Yeah, of course. And, uh…” He trails off, runs a hand through his sweaty hair. “If you wanted, you could bring Violet over sometime, to visit? I don’t live too far from here. Or we could come to you, or come to this park —”

 “I’d like that,” she cuts in, though her eyes still look unsure. “I mean, Violet would love that.”

 “Great.” He grins as Katniss backs away. “Send me a text.”

 “I will. Soon.” She brushes a long length of black fringe away from her eyes. “Thank you, Peeta. And Charlie. I know you’ll take good care of her.”

 “We will!” Charlie squeals from the back.

 She pushes back off the car, a shy, tiny smile on her lips. “I guess I’ll hear from you soon?”

 “Yeah.” He nods. “You’ll definitely hear from me soon.”