Hello there! I would like to introduce you to the Show Games! This is a sequel to my other story, The Wedding Games.

Summary: Katniss and Peeta's daughter begins her journey into finding out everything about her parents past. Yet, her journey takes her to the Show, where they are celebrating 15 years since the games. But will she succeed in the message she fought so hard to give?

I will be updating every Friday (except this Friday 28th 2012)!

I guess the best thing about it was everything. No matter how hard or exhausting it got, there wasn't a particular moment in time where I thought 'what were we thinking?' I guess I should have known this, but I didn't. Peeta obviously did. He knew all along, but I didn't even need to live the experience to know he would. He was born a natural parent. He was so calm, so kind, so patient. Everything a parent needs to be; everything I was not. Peeta thought overwise. Every night he would tell me the same thing. "You're a natural."

Our daughter was a complete Daddys-girl. So much so, I wasn't surprised at her first word. She learned fast, crawling with her chubby limbs, but still falling after a few paces. This soon stopped; and soon she was crawling all over the house. She'd crawl right onto Peeta or I's feet and we'd lift her up and coo at her while she kicked her feet and laugh with joy. She'd even crawled right into Haymitch once, for which she was tapped lightly on the head and left with a mumble. I could only catch a few words, but it sounded something along the lines of 'just like her mother'.

She also mumbled words. Not reals words, just nonsense sounds at first. Second was repeated syllabuls. For instance, the first set being 'Ga-ga-ga'. The shortened and more childlike version of 'g'. At ten months, she succeeded in her first word. It was a pretty ordinary day. Peeta was drawing while I was bouncing our baby girl on my lap. I kept pointing at Peeta, speaking in a singing-like baby-speak voice. "Daddy!" Then she would look at me with a confused expression, before pointing at Peeta herself. Then the process would be repeated. "Daddy!"

I'd gone through quite a few 'Daddys' when it happened. She pointed at Peeta, as before, but she added something. "Daa-dee!" Peeta and I froze, while our daughter giggled excitedly. She was pleased with herself. Peeta slowly looked up.

"What?" he spoke softly.

"DAA-DEE!" she shouted, making it very clear, in case we didn't understand her. Peeta's eyes turned wide. There literally isn't and never will be a word that can describe Peeta's expression. However, it was somewhere between crying and smiling like an idiot. He lept up from the sofa, and I could only hold our daughter up as he held out his arms to take her. He pressed her small body against him, crying into her shoulder. Its was the happiest moment of his life. Then, very deliberately, she told him one more thing. "Da-dee!" our daughter said into his ear.

The danger was there. There always was danger. It was just the fact that the danger was presented to us, that scared me. I mean, it wasn't a present danger. It was more so of a future danger. It was a danger coming to us in years, but it was still coming. It was the truth. It was the truth, presented to our daughter. On her twelfth birthday, she would visit the place where she would find out everything. She would find out who we were, her own parents. She would find out what we did. She would find out everything.

And this, is the story of how she did.