A/N: This story is a series of "one-shots" that deal with certain parts of "The Quell" that I think may have been different based on my version of Katniss and Peeta in my other fanfic – Small Steps. Not sure how many chapters to expect. Hopefully this will bridge to the "post-rescue" part of MJ.

If you haven't read Small Steps, search it out and read it to fully appreciate where I was going here.

Disclaimer: I do not, nor will ever claim to own anything related to the HG. SC's creativity and brilliance is far beyond my wildest dreams. All credit goes to SC.

Back in the Capitol

The train roars into the Capitol, but the reception is anything but warm and rowdy. Just a year ago, Peeta was standing and waiving out the windows at the countless faces that were excited to see their new game pieces arriving.

I was completely closed off and on a mission of survival.

This year, it's different. I am still on a mission, but this time it's a mission of protection for the one that I love. I am determined that my husband will return back to the district.

I still can't wrap my mind around the fact that Peeta and I exchanged marriage vows and consummated our union less than a day ago.

We decided, quickly, that we would not immediately broadcast this news; and maybe not tell anyone at all. We would wait and see if it could somehow benefit our standing in games.

Hand-in-hand we step off the train and immediately we are mobbed by a large gaggle of reporters. Apparently we are the main attraction, and why wouldn't we be? We are the star-crossed lovers whose sliver of hope at the chance for a happy ending was shattered by the announcement of this year's tributes.

Peeta does most of the talking, and I grip his hand tighter with each word. I surprise myself at how much I have grown to need him to protect me from these uncomfortable and awkward moments.

Once we are in the training center we have to separate and meet, individually, with our stylists.

The only face that I am relieved to see in this process is, of course, Cinna. After some small talk, I quietly whisper the news of my marriage. Sensing that we want to keep this news hidden, Cinna just smile and gives me a long embrace.

"Good for you Girl on Fire," he said.

Our training approach is different as we are tasked with trying to find allies this year. Haymitch is nothing like his usual self, mostly sober and acting with a purpose. I am not sure how to take this, but decide at least he is coherent.

The training days are long and rather uneventful. Looking around it is more like a reunion as all of the tributes save for Peeta and I have spent time together over the years.

While the days are long and somewhat boring, the nights are special. While the activities of our wedding night were incredible and created a whole new hunger within my body and soul, it's not the reason the nights are so special. No, they are special, because I have given myself completely to another person and we spend the hours of sleeplessness talking and learning each other's deepest secrets.

When he is asleep though, I am consumed with fear. This fear is deeper than anything I have felt in my life. It is the fear of losing him. While I have embraced the notion that I am going to my death, to save his life, I am mortified at the thought of failing and having to live without him.

It is amazing how quick someone can become an extension of your own soul. Peeta is a part of me and that makes me vulnerable.

I silently wonder if we have been successful at keeping our relationship status a secret, as I am sure that my body radiates with love and affection that can only be found in truth.

The last day of training, our formal evaluation proves to be slightly satisfying as Peeta and I both commit small rebellious acts in front of the game makers.

Whereas my antics with the arrow and the apple last year seemed to have amused Haymitch down to his very core, our new acts of standing up to the game makers this year seems to unnerve him.

Maybe that is what prompted him to tell us that we did not need coaching for the interview today. This is great news! We can spend the entire day together, in private.

Maybe this will be our last day to spend as husband and wife, without fear of retaliation, or interruption.

It doesn't take long for us to decide to spend this day on the roof the training center -our little escape from the world below.

We take a basket of food, blankets and love to the roof top.

"What are you thinking about" he asks?

My mind immediately goes to the plan I have formulated in my head, the one where I will give everything I have, including my life to keep him alive and the victor of these games.

But I lie, "I am thinking how lucky I am to have found you in this life."

It has multiple meanings. I am lucky to have found him in my lifetime. But it is even greater luck, no maybe it's not luck, but divine purpose that I found him in this type of life we have lived.

For whatever reason, I can't help but think that Peeta was brought into this world to save me and in turn, I was brought into this world to inspire hope in his heart.

"We are both lucky, really. Sure we are getting ready to risk our lives again, but I am completely at peace…" he says, but stops himself before he finishes the sentence.

I search his eyes for what was left unsaid, but he just smiles at me and quickly draws my attention away with a kiss.

There has been a question on my mind since our first conversation in the cave last year. "Peeta, why me" I ask?

He stares off toward the setting sun and seems to think, deeply about his answer. I prop myself up on my elbow and turn towards him.

"Do you see the sun," he begins? I look toward the sunset and take in the beauty of the soft orange burn as it quickly descends toward the horizon.

He continues, "The power that is in that ball of fire is raw and uncontainable. It is a force all of its own without boundaries. It is a free spirit, so to speak. You are the sun in my life, Katniss. You are that spirit in my life that inspires freedom and a raw passion for survival. But just like its color is soft, so is your heart. I knew from the first time that I saw you and heard you sing that you were something amazing. Just like the sun, you are unique and nothing compares to your radiance."

I am not sure when the tears started to stream down my cheeks, but I am looking into his blue eyes with a blurred vision.

It's not that he feels this way about me right now. That would be expected from someone that promised their life to you. It's because he felt this way the first time he saw me. I don't deserve to be loved like this.

Though underserved, I am thankful for the blessing of knowing this type of love in the short life that remains for me.

I am glad that he doesn't ask the same question of me. I don't think my answer would be comparable to his. All I can say is a simple "thank you."

With the setting of the sun, we are snapped back into reality that the interviews are quickly approaching.

I remember last year's interview and wonder to myself, how it could be topped.

It was Peeta's ability to harness a crowd with his captivating speech that set us up to survive. His admission of love brought the vital sponsors that sent well-timed gifts.

Watching the interviews this year is a bit more amusing. Apparently, the field of tributes is near and dear to the hearts of the simple minded Capitol people. When I walk on the stage, I observe more tears than smiles.

My interview progresses quickly. The conversation is minimal. No matter how many times I gave a prepared speech on the tour, I am still a backward girl from a backward district. My shining moment is found in Cinna's skillful hand.

"Your dress is special this year. I made a few alterations that are you," he had whispered earlier.

When Caesar asks me if there is anything I would like to say, I make a small remark about how I wish he could have attended my wedding, and with the gasp of the crowd, stand and extend my arms to show off my beautiful dress.

Amazing I think to myself. In a matter of seconds the gown that I was forced to wear has been consumed in a special fire and gives way to my public emergence as theMockingjay. Cinna had warned me that this outfit was special.

What he didn't tell me was that I might insight a riot. It took Caesar a full five minutes to regain his composure and calm the crowd.

All that was left was Peeta. I stood with Haymitch off the stage and watched the love of my life as he charmed the crowd with his candid conversation.

I was about to turn away from the monitor when I heard Caesar ask Peeta how he felt when he learned that his happily ever-after was being challenged by the fate of the games draw.

"Well Caesar, finding out that we were going to be back in the arena and pitted against one another was especially hard…because I knew I would have to face my wife," he said.

But before Caesar could comment, Peeta continued, "But that's not the hardest part of all of this. The hardest part will be trying to protect our baby."

Bombshell. He has done it again. Half the crowd is groaning in agony, some are sobbing openly, while many are shouting for the games to be cancelled. I find it ironic that these people are apparently upset at the thought of killing a mother-to-be, but have no problem cheering and betting on the lives of children.

I am not sure what angle, other than sheer sympathy, Peeta could be searching for, but I have learned to trust him and hope that it will help swing sponsors our way. I will have a much easier time keeping him alive with well-timed gifts in the arena.

That night, as we lie in each other's arms, I am overcome with the feeling of sorrow. For the first time, I am dreading giving up my life. Not because I have a desire to live my life, but because I can see the happiness that I apparently bring into his life.

It is still hard for me to believe that I could elicit such feelings in someone's heart. I silently wish that there was some way I could help him, after I am gone, to carry on and continue being that radiant hope for all those around him.

"Peeta, after all that we have pulled this week, it is very likely that the game makers will be instructed to ensure our deaths," I say.

"I have thought of that too. Actually very often," he replied.

I need to tell him something. I need him to have these words to hold on to in case I am successful in saving him and sending him home – alone.

"I love you," is all that I can manage.

Nothing else I could have come up with would top that. The look in his eyes, both pained and adoring, tell me that there is nothing more in this world that he longs to hear and store in his heart.

"I love you too. Sweet dreams," he whispers as he kisses my lips.

A/N: Just a small one-shot at the time during the training before the Quarter-Quell. As I stated before, I think that their true feelings surfaced a lot more after they left for the games a second time, and during their time in the arena. Not really much to change to make them love anymore than they did in SC brilliant work.

Next Chapter will focus on the Quell and some of the moments they shared, particularly how they came across to their new allies.

Reviews would be awesome!