Author's Notes: Basically after reading Catching Fire I got to thinking about what would happen if Buffy was a tribute in the Hunger Games. Doesn't follow the plot of the books. Not much action either. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All rights belong to Joss Whedon and Suzanne Collins.

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Buffy hummed softly to herself from her perch high in the trees. She wasn't too worried about being found and her voice rose in volume as the day progressed. She'd been trained since she was fifteen to survive. It was second nature to her. It was as simple as that.

They could strip her of everything but as long as she was still breathing she'd make her way back to her district alive. And if she couldn't, then she'd go down swinging against the damn Capitol that had gotten her sent here in the first place.

While Buffy's mentor had ensured she had sponsors Buffy rarely found herself relying on them. She could hunt without weapons, she could outrun any other tribute and she had practice in covering her tracks. It was a miracle that the Gamemakers hadn't tried to take her out themselves already.

From day one it had become apparent that Buffy wasn't an average tribute. She'd set a record with a score of twelve without even trying. It hadn't been done before but Buffy always had been known to change the rules. Once she entered the arena she'd calmly walked away from the Cornucopia and into the trees, without so much as glancing at the provided weapons and supplies. The other tributes hadn't seen her since.

Buffy merely watched and waited as canon fire announced death after death. The viewers at home were no doubt wondering what the hell she was doing spending her days relaxing in the trees while her fellow tributes were slaughtered around her. But she wasn't relaxing, not really, she was waiting.

Buffy knew she had an unfair advantage, a calling that was as much a curse as it was a blessing during times like these. The tiny blond from District Twelve had been called as the Slayer. If the Capitol had any idea that a girl with so much power and strength existed they'd make an example of her. Either work her to death or execute her publicly. Maybe this was how they'd chosen to do it? Maybe they'd figured it out already? They had eyes and ears everywhere.

Entering the Slayer in the Games was a sure way to guarantee a massacre. Or so they thought. No one but her Watcher knew of Buffy's pro-life world views. She thought everyone had potential and that you could overcome anything the world (or the Capitol) could throw at you. Buffy refused to take a human life. She saw enough death each night and didn't feel the need to add to it, in fact she feared it. Buffy's greatest fear wasn't her own death, or being turned into a vampire, it was having to take a human life. That was simply too much power for one person.

And in the end Buffy knew that would be her downfall. She might survive everything; the other tributes, the traps in the Arena, and the bitter loneliness but when it came down to the final two, Buffy knew she wouldn't have it in her to take that final step.

In the end she'd probably let the other tribute walk out alive, while she slipped away quietly. Every single person in the arena had a family waiting for them back home in their district. Buffy didn't. Her mother had died peacefully a few months before the Games began and her father had walked out on their family when Buffy was barely old enough to walk. No one would really miss her if she didn't come home.

Some other poor girl would be made the Slayer, and her friends and Watcher would get over the loss in time. When it came down to it, Buffy was dispensable.

More canon fire announced another dead tribute. It was down to six tributes. Six faces that might not ever see their homes again. It was sickening. With a grim smile Buffy thought maybe she could do something to make it easier. She couldn't stop the Games, she didn't think anyone would ever be able to, but maybe she could make them better.

Rising gracefully to her feet Buffy leapt from her perch and to the ground. Her feet moved silently across the muddy ground. It was time to face her fears.

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