A:N/ I'm new to anything involving actual writing, but this is something that I wanted to do for all Cloveniss fans out there. This is specially written for you all! I'm terribly inexperienced, so please pardon all the mistakes. I've tried my best, but English just isn't something I'm good at.

Edit1 (August 24 2012): I felt that the starting was slightly too abrupt. So I decided to edit some parts and add in others, and hopefully, the entire chapter flows better now. Enjoy!

If you were particular about these things, the first time I'd seen her was on the train ride to the Capitol.

We were watching the recaps of the reapings when perhaps the most beautiful girl I had ever seen walked onto the stage of district two and volunteered herself. She wasn't classically gorgeous like the female from district one was, but she was the type to just stand out noticeably in a crowd. Someone you could never miss.

Then a blonde male volunteered himself and the scene changed to district three.

X_X

The second time I saw her was on the chariot ride.

The camera paid special attention to pause longer at the more extravagantly dressed and outstanding tributes, and well, she was definitely one of them. There were people screaming out names and cameras trained on our every movement, but the sight of her in that 'row-man' (or whatever it's called) armor held my attention and I studied her from the corner of my eye through the entire ride.

Then the speech from the president was made and the carriages were drawn away from the streets. Her carriage was the second to enter while mine was the last, and she'd disappeared long before I'd arrived.

X_X

I saw her again the day after, during our first training session. It was the third time then – not that I was counting.

She stuck close to her district partner, a giant wall made of muscles, and the tributes from one. While the rest of the careers very extremely vocal about their thoughts on each of the tribute's performance, she – Clove, I've learnt her name was – wore a mask of indifference and stayed completely silent unless directly spoken to. She wasn't aggressive like the rest of the tributes, but her silent figure commanded more presence than any of the careers.

And she stayed that way; until she saw Peeta.

A sneer crawled a way onto her features and for the first time since the beginning of the session, she joined in at the insults. Cato looked pleased that he'd finally gotten his district partner to join in on the 'bonding'. I must have just looked defeated. I'd held her in higher regard than the rest of the careers, but maybe I'd been too quick to judge and she was exactly like them after all.

When I turned to look at her again, her gaze was focused right at me, with an expression I could not read. Then she turned away, and didn't look once in my direction for the rest of the day.

X_X

It was said that while all careers were trained in the deadly art of murder, those chosen to represent their district were always a huge cut above the rest, with special training and specialization in a weapon of their choice.

I wondered what hers' was.

She hardly looked like the type the lug a giant sword around to decapitate people, but looks could be deceiving. For all I knew, maybe she specialized in giant war hammers. But there was just a way she held herself that reminded me of myself. Something not quite similar, but no exactly far from it either.

I learnt later that she was an expert knife thrower that never missed. Or at least from what I've seen; the knife never drifted from the dead center of the target.

She hadn't seemed really willing to have that news broadcasted until she'd caught me looking at her from the survival station, a good half-way across the room. Was it a warning, I wondered, or was it something more?

X_X

That night, long after the whole world had gone to sleep, I slipped through the shadows and pressed the button for the training room in the elevator.

Naturally, I felt a natural urge to reach for my beloved bow, but I held myself back. I was supposed to be asleep then. I couldn't use the targets with the bow without alerting every game maker in the building. Haymitch had recommended that we tried out the survival stations to stay unnoticed, but there wasn't exactly anyone there to stop me, was there?

My hand glided across the numerous armaments on the weapons rack. It was filled with almost every imaginable melee weapon, from the rapier to the war axe, but I found myself studying at a dagger closely as I realized that it had been one of the ones Clove had used earlier in the day. The Capitol-made weapon felt odd in my hand and the handle too cool to my touch.

"You're holding it wrong." My back stiffened instantly as wild panic washed up through me and I turned rigidly to face the unexpected guest. I knew that I was safe – for a few more days at least – but it didn't keep my basic fight or flight instincts from kicking in, surrounded by people who wanted me dead and ally-less in a foreign environment that screamed artificial. We were forbidden from using the training room outside of the assigned periods. Everyone else should be asleep by now.

She was just slightly shorter than me, lacking her district partner's towering build, yet managing to look that much more menacing than he ever could. Like all animals, humans had the innate ability to differentiate predator from prey. No matter how idle the gift laid, it's a survival instinct that we never lose. And right now, it made an appearance; predator.

The light blue hoodie looked oddly out of place on the toned figure of the career. It hung loosely – almost casually – off her structure, and coupled with grey track pants she donned, it made her looked so ordinary. Like a better dressed and fed random teenager you could find on the streets of district twelve.

Clove nonchalantly strolled up to me, seemingly unaware of the repercussions we both could face if we were caught breaking the second rule the capitol had shoved in our faces for our short stay, just underneath 'no tribute is allowed bring harm to another'. Beneath her, the mechanized door shuddered to a close, bathing the room in semi-darkness once more and I wondered how I could have missed her entrance before. Her footfalls were silent (practiced) before she came to a stop just before me, and stretched out an arm almost demandingly.

At my lack of reaction, an eyebrow quirked up in amusement and she reached for my hand herself. Her hands were coarse from years of training, yet a level of gentleness I never would have associated to a ruthless killing machine. I didn't make an effort to break free from her grip as she brought my arm forward between us to reveal the dagger that I had previously clutched to my side. "You want to keep it lose," she explained, fingers moving to reposition my grip. "Firm enough that it'll stay in your hand, but flexible, so you'll be quicker and more precise."

All the while, I stood there, standing in mute disbelief. Clove scoffed, "careful. You'll catch flies, fire girl."

After a few moments of readjusting, the career leant back, satisfied with her work. "C'mon, try it out," she prompted.

I took a few experimental slashes to the air, surprised with the new-found ease which I wielded the blade. It made me realize how awkward my grip had been all those years in comparison to the career's more refined technique. Clove nodded in satisfaction and just for a moment, a feeling of pride bloomed within me. "If you've got the chance, stab instead of slash. It's less likely to be parried that way and more effective in bringing someone down. Hand over."

It took me that moment to realize that even when she was demanding for something, there was always this softness in her tone. It was like she was politely asking for something, but phrased in a slightly more intimidating way. The whole girl was so paradoxical. What a strange career.

There should have been fear in surrendering your sole weapon to a trained career no less, but the only thing I felt was a stab of curiosity. I dropped the light dagger gently onto her palm, and instinctively, her fingers grasped the hilt so effortless it could only have stemmed from years of mastership. She fell into a routine of slashes, parries and stabs, battling a phantom enemy. It was an extension of herself, like a bow was mine, and it spoke of kinship forge of sweat and blood.

She ended it off with a final stab, a pleased look on her face and muscles no doubt humming in adrenaline. She shot a smirk my way and stretched out the blade, hilt first in offering. "Now you try."

I took it from her carefully and adjusted my grip to mirror the one she'd shown me previously, my fingers awkwardly moving to fill the unpracticed position. Considering I was someone who'd never had to wield a dagger for purposes other than skin game, I like to think I did quite well, even though it didn't come anywhere near Clove's level. Some parts of me were expecting mockery for my somewhat clumsy attempts, but it never came.

Her eyes followed my actions like a hawk, and her lips stretched into a grin that was almost approval. "Not bad, fire girl."

"Call me Katniss."

She raised that eyebrow in question, but didn't accept or refuse my offer, only giving a light shrug in return. It aggravated me, how no situation seemed to affect the girl beneath the icy and uncaring front. Perhaps it was an act she was so used to it had merged to become a part of her, or perhaps the person underneath was the same person she made herself out to be.

"What's the purpose of all this?" I found myself questioning her with no little amount of anger and confusion fueling me. "Is this some kind of game? To throw me off-balance so you can pick me off like easy prey?"

She shook her head and bit her lip, choosing her words carefully. "You intrigue me. Everyone else is so uninspiring, but not you."

Disbelief settled upon me. "So that's it? I intrigue you?"

The last part came out unintentionally hostile, but the career shrugged it off, no doubt used to being an object of anger. Well, she should be. I doubt a lot of people could stand being in her infuriatingly nonchalant presence for long.

"Not what you were expecting, right? Sorry it's not as interesting as a spying attempt to check out the competition, or to throw you off balance before the games," she spoke casually, but it ended up more bitter than either of us had probably expected. "God forbid I just saw you with the dagger and wanted to help you out."

Guilt stabbed at me. I shouldn't have jumped the gun so fast, even though 'good deeds' from careers did deserve at least several moments of apprehension. They weren't exactly known for their helpfulness. Maybe just the aid they lent if you were feeling suicidal.

"Sorry."

"It's ok, I'm used to it."

That peaked my interest. 'Used to it' would imply that Miss Career went around interacting like a normal human being.

As if sensing my new interest, she continued, "Careers are supposed to be glory to their districts. And I won't lie, we're celebrated." Her features meandered into a bitter expression. "They raised us to fight in the games, but that doesn't mean that some parts of them aren't afraid of us; what we're capable of." She gave a short laugh of resentment, and maybe just a bit of sadness. "Can't exactly blame them, it's a smart thing to do – be afraid.

"And they sometimes forget that they were the ones who made us into who we are today."

A silence settled upon us after that unexpectedly emotive confession, and a sense of guilt and doubt washed up on the shore of my conscience. I could so easily imagine how carefully and dubiously the careers must be treated in their own districts. Who would want to be in continual presence of trained killers? They would be trained to distance themselves from emotions and people, to be willing to lay down their lives for a false sense of honor that would be worn down much sooner than they could possible expect.

I couldn't fault them for not being 'normal' if they had never known the word.

"What about you?" My eyes flitted to lock onto hers. "What's your story?"

My story? I didn't know where to begin. So I started with my family; those days when dad was still around, and mom hadn't yet descended deep into the abyss of her mind in an effort to escape her grief. We were poor then, but happy. I told her all about Prim and the smile she seemed to have permanently etched onto her face during those times of happiness. Then I told her about the mining accident, and how everything changed after that.

"I'm an orphan," she shared. "Most of us are. They pick out the fittest kids from the orphanage each year, and offer them food, shelter and a once in a lifetime chance for ultimate glory. The games may seem barbaric, but my entire district lives off it. And lots of the residents like the idea of careers too. Orphans won't be missed. They have an edge to bring back fame to the district, and parents would never have to worry about their kids being reaped. That's what we're for."

I told her about Gale, and against my better judgment and this part of me that warned against 'getting too chummy with a career' – that sounded curiously like Haymitch – told her about my experience with the bow. She looked up in further interest then, and I knew the unspoken question that hung between us. Was I good enough with the bow, and willing enough to kill?

I even told her about how it was Prim's first reaping, my hopes and fears that seemed so far away in the darkness of the training room. Then I ended off with, "what about you?"

We sat in silence for several moments and when I was certain she wasn't willing to share a deeper part of herself, she shifted restlessly on the mat and began. "We were taught since the beginning of our training that there would only be one victor. They trained us with this philosophy in mind; that even though we had allies, they were only good for as long as they were useful, and when they've outlived their usefulness, there's when the backstabbing would begin.

"We had to be independent, cunning and manipulative to survive. Emotions hold no value, so we were never allowed to grow close to each other. We only talked to each other when it was necessary, even tributes of our own gender, because for every one that was allowed to join the games, the other twenty weren't. And that was the purpose for our existence, so we fought endlessly for the opportunity. And a week before the reaping, we would be tested and the top tribute from each gender would join the games."

"Does it get lonely?"

Clove chuckled. "I don't know. How do you know whether you've had enough human interaction?"

A surprisingly strong point.

"I had a sister," she said suddenly. "There was this girl a several years my senior when I first started my training. I had lived in the orphanage my entire life before then, so I didn't know if I had any surviving siblings. We looked really alike, even some of the trainers said so too. But the trainees never spoke to the seniors and she was reaching her last few years of eligibility. We saw each other at the gym sometimes, or even passing through the hallways, but we never muttered a single word to each other and she never gave an indication that she knew me.

"Till she joined the 68th games, we were still strangers. And I thought we would finally speak to each other when she won the games – because she was undoubtedly the best that year – and came back to mentor, but she never did. There was a simple funeral service, and I realized that we would never have the chance to re-connect whatever it is we shared. I had doubts that we were even related, but when one of the mentors passed me her token, I knew."

She took out a necklace from her pocket in the dim lighting, I could make out two simple gold bands engraved with words of love.

"I had the other one."

I couldn't find the right words, so I remained silent. What did you say to comfort a career that had lost everything, even the last of her family to a brutal slaughter which she would be participating in just days away?

Clove stood suddenly and stretched her muscles. "Enough with this sappiness." she shot me an almost feral-like grin that hid a deep sadness of resurfacing memories. "Let's do something that isn't completely boring."

The smile was infectious and I found myself nodding along and curious to what the career had in mind. The girl positively skipped over to the survival section and I just managed to keep down laughter at the completely out of character behavior, but when she turned around to shoot me a grin, I realized that it was her intention all along.

I followed her to the climbing station as she studied the course. "I'm probably not as good as the eleven girl," she remarked. "But it'll do."

I studied her in surprise. So she'd seen Rue too? I didn't know she paid attention to anything other than her knives and laughing at Peeta. Which reminded me…

"Why do you hate Peeta so much anyway?"

She shrugged. "Not really hate, per se. He's competition – everyone is – and at the end of the day, he needs to die for someone else to live."

I felt my heart drop. Was this how she viewed me as well? Competition?

She presented me her toothy grin again, which I had begun to associate with the normally cold tribute. "And he's not even interesting like you are."

I found myself laughing, even though her comment wasn't even remotely humorous. But there was just this certain way she behaved that made me forget the doubts I should have, and the lightened feeling in my chest that didn't make me feel so suffocated anymore. We spent hours talking, just about anything. The weather in district 2 compared to the one in twelve, funny and interesting events that had occurred through our lives. And she even revealed how outstandingly wacky careers could behave given the right circumstances.

"Are all careers like you?" I asked, even though I knew how unique she must be.

Clove snorted. "Hardly. I already feel insulted sharing something in common with people like Glimmer, and Cato."

We both shuddered then. Really, they were perfect for each other.

She looked up to catch my eye and I could see a mischievous sparkle in them. "Any special person back at twelve? Gale perhaps?"

I laughed and shook my head. "Maybe we could have had something, but that would be settling. And I don't think either of us would want that."

The other girl hummed in thought and nodded, satisfied with my answer. And as if suddenly struck by inspiration, she almost bounced. "It just reminded me, we're both named after plants, how wacked up is that? It's like we're kindred spirits."

A giggle escaped me at the complete randomness of it all. "It's like we're meant for each other."

"I like how you think," Clove shot me a wink, and instantly this feeling I couldn't make out nestled within me. Perhaps it was always there, but that was the first moment I took notice of it. It was this warmness and flutter that I couldn't place my finger on, so I pushed it aside for the moment.

"It's getting really late, or early I guess," she sighed. "Want to go catch a few hours of sleep?"

I nodded. I had lost track of the time hours ago, and no doubt, the world would soon be awake. I jumped off the perch I had found above a marble counter at the side of the large room and Clove immediately mirrored my actions.

"Good night, Clove," I smiled as we entered the lift and pressed the button for '2'. The elevator whirled to life and carried us back to our respective floors. With a soft 'ding' the double doors retracted and Clove exited.

She returned the smile. "Good night, Katniss."

My surprise must have shown because she chuckled softly at whatever expression I must have been wearing. With the short wave the doors closed and carried me further up, all the while, a smile stayed plastered on my face. There were many ways that could have been interpreted, but I knew.

For all our doubts and fears, we've developed a friendship, regardless of the impending darkness and chaos. And maybe, just maybe, what we had would be able to survive.

And perhaps blossom into something more.

A:N/2 And this is it :D The title was taken from Somewhere Only We Know by Lifehouse, because I just so happened to be listening to it when inspiration struck, and I find it oddly fitting. Both of them might seem slightly ooc (Clove especially), but I intended it to be a moment where both of them let go of the expectations of society and simply lived. If anyone was wondering, this is a one-shot.

Hopefully, you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and please spare a few moments of your life to tell me how you find this. Even if it's just a short 'Me likey' or 'Me no likey', I would really appreciate it. Thank you all!

- Rioshix