A/N: So what if Peeta had met Katniss when they were little; so little that neither of them could really remember it? Twoshot. Part Two up tomorrow!

I've always found it hard to visit the bakery since I decided to marry Aaron instead of Grant; I simply can't bear to go in there if Cathy is serving behind the counter. It was fortunate that she wasn't today, for it was Katniss' fourth birthday and Aaron had insisted on the purchase of hearty bakery bread as a treat for our daughter.

The bell above the door jangles as we walk in, Katniss following eagerly at my heels, dressed in a pretty green dress with her long dark hair in braids. Though she doesn't know it yet, Katniss will be a big sister by the time the year ends. As I approach the counter, Grant gives me a sad smile.

"Good morning, Mara," he says quietly, "how are you today?"

"Oh, well enough," I reply coolly, "and yourself?"

"Very well, very well," he says, "and what can I do for you today? After some bread for a special occasion, I assume?"

"I am actually. Have you met my daughter, Katniss? It's her birthday today." I ask.

His eyes travel downwards to find her staring behind the counter; a little boy hides behind the counter, playing with some wooden horses.

"I've seen her about town with Aaron, yes, though we haven't been formally introduced," he says, before approaching her. "And how old are you today young lady?"

Katniss stares up at him with all the naive bravery of her a four-year-old and smiles a big, toothy grin.

"Four," she says, "how old are you?"

"Well then," he says with a smile, "I'd be about as old as your mother here, which is just old enough. You know, I have a son who is about your age. His name is Peeta."

"Where is he?" Katniss asks.

"Behind the counter here," the baker responds, "Peeta, why don't you come out and meet Katniss? You could show her your wooden horses."

"Okay Papa," the sweet little-boy voice answers, before his son wanders into view. He's a little taller than Katniss, with chubby pink cheeks, fluffly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Katniss walks right over to him and stares at him boldly.

"Hello," he says politely, "I'm Peeta. What's your name?"

"Katniss," she says.

"That's a funny name," Peeta replies; his father looks at him with a slightly horrified look on his face at his son's blatant honesty.

"It's a plant," Katniss says simply, before looking at the battered toys in his hands, "What's in your hands?"

He looks down at the wooden horses and holds them out to her.

"Horsies," he says with a grin, "I've got more toys out back. You wanna see 'em?"

Katniss' eyes light up; she herself doesn't own many toys because they're very expensive. She does have a couple of rag dolls that I have made her, and a few old books. I can tell she wants to go play with him, but I really do have to get to the rest of the market today...

Before she can reply, I stop her.

"Oh honey, I don't know if we can today; we need to get some things for dinner and didn't you want a new hair ribbon for your birthday?" I say gently.

"But... but Maaaamaaaa... I wanna stay here and see Peeta's toys," she protests.

"Katniss can stay here, can't she Papa?" Peeta asks.

"I don't know if you can, sweetheart," I continue, "we really do have to be going."

Tears well up in Katniss' eyes; she doesn't like being told no. Just before I begin to worry that she's going to make a scene, the baker steps in.

"Why don't you let her stay, Mara, at least whilst you finish your rounds at the market? It can't hurt. They can play in the yard; I'll keep an eye on them whilst I finish the rest of today's baking," he says kindly.

I hesitate, not sure if I should allow this, though Katniss' face has broken into a huge smile again.

"Oh thank you, Mr. Baker man! Can I please stay Mama?" she laughs.

"Cathy won't like it," I mutter.

"She's visiting her mother, today, I believe; I think she's ill," the baker replies.

"Oh, very well then," I sigh, "but only for a little while. A very little while. I'll be back quite soon." I retort, defeated.

Katniss races over to me and hugs my leg.

"Thank you Mama! Thank you so much!" she says.

Peeta walks over and looks at me solemnly.

"Thank-you for letting her stay, Mrs. Ever...Mrs. Ever...Everdeen," he says quietly, before taking Katniss's thin little hand in his chubby one.

"You're very welcome, Peeta," I say gently.

"C'mon Katniss, I'll show you my whole farm if you want," he says with a smile, practically dragging her from the room. She runs after him, giggling and happy.

"Well Mara, I'd better get back to work," Grant says, "And I assume you'll be back soon?"

"Yes," I reply, before opening the door and walking out into the bright, sunlit street, leaving my daughter in the hands of the man who might have been her father.