A/N: Welcome to the Hunger Games Trilogy, in a universe where Johanna Mason (and Haymitch) are Katniss and Peeta's Mentors. I will be veering from canon (even more) greatly after getting through the first book. But there will be some Everlark, I suppose. There will be Joniss. There will be blood. :) Enjoy and review! (Title inspired by Keane's song "The Lovers are Losing." Great track, I recommend it highly.)
When Effie Trinket knocked on the door, she had to inhale the largest breath her lungs could hold. The past four years of being the District Twelve escort had been especially trying. Haymith Abernathy was a cantankerous older man with a smug streak, but she had become accustomed to him. As accustomed one could get to a perpetually drunk, hands-y rascal. And he, to her. They had an understanding - he was to be on his best behavior while the children were in the arena, and she would overlook most of his transgressions otherwise. But four years ago, when District Twelve native Johanna Mason had surprised Panem with her upset victory, Effie was unprepared for how to deal with the tempestuous young girl. From the moment she stepped on stage at the Reaping to this very instant, they were always at odds. She seemed to thrive on needling Effie at every single turn in the times they had seen each other.
However, Effie was willing to overlook it because Johanna had become a much more helpful Mentor than Haymitch. In spite of her objections and acerbic personality, she seemed to take a genuine interest in the Tributes. But she had to steel herself emotionally every time they saw each other, because Johanna took such pleasure in unnerving her. She knocked melodically on the door.
"You're going to come in anyway," the rough voice called from inside, before the door unceremoniously swung open. Johanna eyed the escort, who was dolled up in a bright fuschia outfit with alabaster make-up. The rim of pink around her eyes accentuated the natural blue of her eyes. Johanna always thought that if Effie was to finally get rid of that get-up, she'd probably be a pretty woman. But no one would ever know, because Effie insisted on dressing like an idiot every time they saw each other.
"Good morning Johanna!" Effie called gleefully, letting herself and the stylist team into Johanna's home. Johanna swept her hand back in a grand gesture, which went purposefully ignored by the Capitol team. Effie scrunched her nose as she took in the state of the Victor's home. Unlike Haymitch's, which looked lived in only for the empty glass bottles scattered all over the floor, Johanna's home looked bare. Moving boxes sat unpacked, no pictures hung on the walls. A lingering smell of liquor and firewood hung in the air. "This place is cheerful as always," she piped, looking to the disinterested dark-haired woman.
Johanna smirked, running her fingers through her recently shorn hair. It had been down near her back when she won her Games, but she took to cutting it at her shoulders ever since. The stylist's picked up the tresses and grimaced, backing off only after Johanna snarled at them. "What did you do to your hair, dear?" one of them asked, circling her like a vulture.
"I cut it, you moron," Johanna replied quickly, placing her arms akimbo. "Is there a problem?"
"I would say so," Effie interjected, crossing her arms over her loud outfit. "You look like an absolute mess. But that's no trouble, dear, as we'll fix you right up, won't we?" She looked at the stylists, who ushered Johanna into the bathroom in spite of the woman's expletive-ridden objections. Effie sighed, reaching down to wipe invisible germs from the couch, then sat down gingerly on the fabric. She clasped her hands over her knees, waiting patiently for the stylists to be finished.
Her eyes darted around the room, where the only decoration in the entire home was a fishing net hung in the corner. Effie managed a small smile - it was a gift from Finnick, the winner from a few years ago. Effie had met him on several occasions and found him charmingly repulsive. Far too young to be subjected to the Capitol's hungry crowds, but he was always very pleasant. He and Johanna had struck up a quick friendship that Effie always imagined was more. When pressed Johanna had vehemently denied it, citing Finnick's devotion to another recent Victor, Annie Cresta. Finnick was the only friend Johanna had, so Effie didn't want to push the matter further. She had witnessed what loneliness did to a Victor - Haymitch was living proof.
When Johanna reemerged she looked much improved, in Effie's estimation. Johanna, however, was far from pleased. The ridiculous updo her hair was in made her feel like a doll instead of a killer. But she appreciated the heavy eyeliner that outlined her brown hues. A form-fitting black dress with navy blue accents was supposed to match Haymitch's typical navy blue tie. Her image after the Games - as a rebel with a cause - meant that she spent most of her time in dark clothes. Not that she minded; dark clothes felt natural, like a constant state of mourning.
"Off to the slaughter, then," Johanna announced crudely, receiving disparaging looks from the escort.
"Really, Johanna, must you?" Johanna mocked the woman behind her back, and upon the turned head of Effie, she formed her lips in a straight line and shrugged. Peeved, they began walking toward Haymitch's house. Effie had already been there that day to wake him from his stupor and made sure he put on a tie. Haymitch stumbled from his home before they arrived, tossing a glass bottle against the side of his house. When Effie opened her mouth to speak to him, the blonde man held his hand up.
"Please, Effie, not now. I'll have to listen to you enough on the train," he complained, and Johanna let out a small chuckle. As much as she slightly detested the man, she admired his candor. They had different approaches to their post-Victory shambled lives - he drowned his in liquor, she buried hers in physical training. Not to say that she didn't over-indulge in liquor, but she wasn't soaked through and through like he was. Most of her free time was spent in metalworking. Her family were metallurgists from as far back as she could remember, and her father's particular skill had been making extremely strong, flexible metals from chemicals he found in the Seam.
Although they probably could've afforded to live in the Merchant village, the Masons had lived in the Seam in District Twelve. Johanna had resented this poor upbringing, but Mr. Mason had insisted they live simply. He distrusted the Capitol, furtively, and did not want to make them more money, or propogate this "us vs them" mentality that divided the classes in Twelve. So in their massive amounts of downtime when there was no electricity, he had taught Johanna his trade. In turn, she had expanded upon this skill and began making weapons.
Weapon-making was strictly forbidden in the Districts, so Mr. Mason agreed to have Johanna hand over everything she made to the Capitol after a representative from the city shook them down. In turn, they would be allowed a small fraction of the profits, mainly in the form of grain and old. Obviously, all of that changed after Johanna won her Games. She became the Capitol's property.
...
Johanna watched into the crowd of children as Mayor Undersee began his speech about the history of the Hunger Games. She had learned not to make a face, since she had been punished one year for looking too disinterested in the history. Instead she scanned the crowd, looking for familiar faces. There were one too many. The Dade family, with their house of two boys and two girls; the Hawthornes with more kids than was entirely necessary, and the spots of fair-skinned kids from the Merchant villages. Johanna thought it interesting how you could see the line between the Seam and the rest of Panem just by surveying the children. A dark, dirty smudge was apparent on the DNA of kids from the Seam. Their darkened complexion, their green eyes, and the humbled but proud way they carried themselves in the Merchant district, as well as their relaxed joviality in the Hob.
When Johanna tuned back into the proceedings, Effie's already drawing names. "Primrose Everdeen," Effie called out. Johanna heard the murmurs and watched as a little flit of a girl emerged from the crowd, looking wholly frightened. Cautiously she stepped forward, until the commotion a few rows behind stilled her movements.
"I volunteer!" the voice shouted in a strangled cry. The Peacekeppers kept her at bay. Johanna squinted to try and see her from the stage. Instead she brought her eyes up to the camera televisions. She didn't look familiar, other than that obvious "Seam" complexion. "I volunteer as tribute!"
Johanna hid her shocked expression, however Effie had not. In fact, Haymitch looked practically asleep, while Effie looked like someone had rammed a rod up her back. The dark-haired girl watched as the brunette took the place of the blonde who took solace in Gale Hawthorne, the eldest of the needlessly large Hawthorne clan. Katniss stepped up to the microphone, introducing herself. "Katniss Everdeen."
Johanna's eyes widened in spite of herself. The girl's sister. Effie called the male tribute, a homely looking fair-haired boy named Peeta Mellark. No one volunteered for that boy. After Effie's flourished conclusion, no one clapped. That was not unusual, Twelve was always somber since they so rarely had Victors. But Gale's hand went up in the three-fingered salute. Suddenly the entire crowd gave the silent salute. Johanna felt a little bit proud of her fellow District residents.
Effie looked around nervously, trying to smile in spite of the egregious behavior before her. Haymitch, of course, exacerbates the situation by putting his arm around Katniss' shoulders. "I like you. You've got spunk!" Katniss looks absolutely horrified, but is covering it with a stone face that only slightly looks fearful, Johanna thought. "More than you!" he shouts, directly at the camera. He then promptly falls off the stage and is carried out on a stretcher into the building. Johanna stifles a grin.
Effie ushered the children into the Justice Center, pulling Peeta and Katniss into separate rooms where they could say good-bye to their families. Johanna and Haymitch lingered outside the doors, and the man slid Johanna a flask. Without question she took a hit of the liquid. It felt like molten steel going down her esophagus.
"What the fuck, Haymitch? Is that just straight from the medicine cabinet?" The older man laughed, taking a casual sip of the horrendous liquid. She shook her head, waving her hands in the air. "You're gonna be lucky to live another year with that stuff." As Johanna finished her sentence, the door to Peeta's room opened and Mr. Mellark emerged, carrying a small white bag into Katniss' room. Through the cracked door both Victors can see the weeping mother with her arm around Peeta. From what Johanna can remember, Mrs. Mellark's favorite son was not Peeta, but there she is, sobbing like it's the end of days. For Peeta, it probably is.
Haymitch look at her knowingly. "Exactly how lucky is that?"
Johanna makes small talk with Effie as the blonde struts around the train car, mouthing off their list of to-do items that "must be completed" before they get to the Capitol. It's the same run down every year - prep the Tributes, answer their questions, be on our very best behavior ("Do not make a scene again!") and be nice. Effie knows that neither Victor will be nice, but she does rely on Johanna to be at least helpful.
When Katniss walks down the narrow hallway, Johanna and Peeta are already seated at the table. "Where's Haymitch?" Katniss asks, looking to the blonde-haired boy.
"He said he was going to take a nap," Peeta informs, with just a slight hint of amusement. They all know he's three sheets to the wind, and Effie looks more than relieved to be without his company.
Effie mentions something about it being better for everyone, and they all begin eating. Johanna watches the two young Tributes carefully, eyeing their table manners. Peeta looks well-fed, and his overall demeanor says he comes from money. Johanna squints as she tries to place him. With a small noise that goes unnoticed, she finally recalls the Mr. Mellark owns the bakery in the Merchant village. When her eye catches Effie's, the woman gives her a smile. "Well you two have lovely table manners. Johanna was decent when she came on the train, but last year the two kids ate like a couple of savages. Completely put me off my appetite."
Johanna can feel her blood rise at the jab. Those two kids were from the Seam. They probably hadn't seen a decent meal in their entire lives. Effie shrinks back as Johanna glares in her direction. When she returns her eyes to Katniss, she sees the young girl has begun eating with her hands. As her eye catches Johanna's, the older girl smirks. Haymitch is right, she does have spunk.
Speaking of, the inebriated older man enters the room. Johanna's eyes go wide again. He is looking pretty bad. "Did I miss supper?" he slurs, then promptly vomits on the floor and falls in it.
Effie grunts her displeasure and tosses her napkin on the table. The three of us are laughing at his misfortune, but Effie is beyond pissed. "It isn't funny," she demands in a loud voice. "This man is one of only two lifelines you have in that arena. The odds will not be in your favor if he continues to act like a miscreant for the entire trip. Your very lives are in his hands." With that she storms off, leaving Johanna, Katniss and Peeta at the table.
The Tributes' faces grow somber. Johanna sighs, getting up from the table. "Hey, Baker Boy, help me with this?" Johanna calls to Peeta, lifting up Haymitch's arms. The man groans but doesn't really come back to them. Peeta helps drag the Victor back into his room.
"I'll clean him up," Peeta offers, looking sympathetically to the drunken man slouched on the floor, covered in his own sick.
"Get some sleep," Johanna suggests. "I'll call the Capitol people. Let them deal with him." Peeta nods his consent, slowly taking off for his room. Johanna kicks Haymitch in the leg, getting an angry swipe with his large arm. Johanna dodges him quickly, shaking her head. "You're a fucking mess."
With that she leaves the room, going back toward the dinner table. Katniss is still seated there, staring down at her food. She doesn't look up when Johanna enters, but the raven-haired girl knows she can feel her presence. What little Johanna knows about Katniss is that she is a skilled hunter that does well in the Hob. Poor, dead father, friends with the oldest Hawthorne. Devoted to her little sister.
Johanna slides into the bench across from Katniss, trying to catch the younger girl's gaze. "You should get to bed," Johanna offers, sitting back against the wall. She takes another long swig of her undisguised liquor. "Not that you'll sleep. You probably won't sleep for the next three weeks, to be honest," Johanna admits with a shrug. Katniss smiles at her. "But it's good to pretend."
They sit in silence for a few more minutes, Johanna watching the young girl tearing at her pieces of sweet bread. "Look, you're gonna hear this a lot for the next few days, but what you did for your sister was pretty brave." Katniss lifts her eyes, staring at the older girl.
"Thanks," she replies, unconvincingly. Katniss isn't exactly sure what to make of her female Mentor. She remembered to when she was twelve and she watched Johanna win her Games. She had gone in as a weakling, a laughably inept, poor kid from District Twelve. But anyone in the District could've told them that Johanna was a weapons expert, particularly skilled with a tomahawk. After most of the other Tributes had cleared themselves out, Johanna emerged as a vicious killer, slaughtering all the remaining tributes with a self-made tomahawk she had fashioned from leftover weapons in the game. Katniss couldn't remember seeing much of Johanna before or after her Games, only that her parents had died about a year ago and that she spent a lot of her time either holed up in a blacksmith shop that she had built outside her home in the Victor's Village, or down in Four with the other Victor, Finnick Odair. "She deserves better than this world."
"Don't we all." Johanna bites her lower lip, tapping her foot nervously on the ground. Katniss' intense eyes were staring at her, and for once in her life, she was uncomfortable under all the attention. "Haymitch isn't as useless as he seems. He did win his Games," Johanna reminds. She and Katniss were too young to have seen the Games themselves, but Haymitch's victory in the second Quarter Quell was legendary. As was his descent into complete alcoholism following the murder of his family. He was supposed to be a warning to Johanna. To Finnick. To Annie. But Johanna was never good at taking direction.
Katniss snorts in disbelief. "I guess it's worth it just to see how upset Effie Trinket gets."
Johanna lets out a laugh, surprising the brunette. "Oh you have no idea. It's only going to get worse." Her laughter dies down as she lifts the flask to her lips, downing the rest of the liquor. She wipes her mouth on her back of her hand, stretching out her jaw. She lets out a sigh, leaning back against the wall. "Effie's not so bad. I'm sure she'd rather be the District Two escort, but she's nice enough. Haymitch is...well, he hates everyone. But if you let him know you're not some fucking idiot, he'll treat you a little better."
"Is that how you won?" Katniss asks, pushing her plate away. A few Capitol employees begin clearing plates, refilling Johanna's glass with a ruby red liquid she had never seen. It smelled a little fruity, but reeked of alcohol.
Johanna let out another laugh, but this one was harsh. "Haymitch? No. I mean," Johanna sighed. "I guess. He told me not to let anyone know what my skill was until I absolutely had to. I didn't really have any, except that I'm sick with an ax and I'm decent with a bow," she informed. Katniss raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Good with a bow? That was a surprise. "Didn't get a bow in the arena and I don't know how to make one. But I could make a tomahawk. So I did. And then I killed everyone." Katniss was surprised with how pleased the woman looked with herself, but tried to mask it. She should be somewhat proud of herself, Katniss figured. She was pretty slight when she won, the same age as Katniss was now. And as she scrutinized the woman's features, she didn't quite believe all the bravado. She knew that undercurrent of pain because it was hers, too.
"I don't think that's going to work for me," Katniss replied with an eye roll. "They won't believe two of those stories from the same place."
Johanna nodded. "You're probably right. But we'll figure out what your skill is soon enough, Kitty Kat." Katniss' eyes went wide, appalled at the nickname Johanna had bestowed on her. The dark-haired girl gulped the last of the wine, leaving just a bit in the glass. She stood, handing the liquor to the other girl. Katniss grimaced and Johanna rolled her eyes. "I probably won't stick with that name." Katniss let out a small chuckle. "But you should take a drink of this and get to bed. Effie will be along before you know it." Johanna let her hand sit on Katniss' shoulder, her fingers lingering on the exposed skin for a moment too long before taking off.
Katniss eyed the glass warily as her Mentor disappeared into another room down the hall. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, staring at the glass that had a small smear of crimson lipstick on the rim. Johanna certainly was an interesting figure. Katniss couldn't remember seeing her all that much around Twelve, except for right after she won, and right after her parents had been executed for illegal activity. Katniss remembered only because it was so rare that anyone in Twelve was executed. Johanna wasn't even present for the execution, she arrived a day later. After that, nobody ever saw Johanna much. The rumor was she was sleeping with Finnick, the handsome Victor from Four.
For whatever reason, that didn't quite sit well with Katniss. First, it seemed unlike Johanna to be some gorgeous guy's sex kitten. And second, she understood the pain of losing one of your parents. Essentially she had lost both of hers when her father died, since her mother was very ill afterward. She figured since Johanna didn't have to live with all the memories, she chose not to. She imagined Finnick was more like Johanna's Gale. Her confidant. Her friend. It alleviated a weird feeling in Katniss' stomach to decide that Johanna and Finnick were definitely not sleeping together.
As she retired to her room, she felt a heaviness on her chest as she lay awake, listening to the train rock her to sleep. She thought of picking blackberries with Gale, of doing Prim's hair. All of that seemed ages away now. Her mind drifted to her Mentor who slept two doors down. She wanted to get to know her, but she wouldn't get a chance. Because within a few days, she'd probably be dead.
"Rise and shine!" Effie calls into Johanna's room, letting the light shine into the darkened compartment. Johanna groans and tosses a pillow in her direction, which lands in a thud in front of the escort. "Johanna, please remember to conduct yourself well in front of the Tributes. Do not let Haymitch's poor behavior reflect upon the lot of us."
"Yeah, Johanna," Haymitch calls from behind Effie, his words already slurred. Johanna looks at her clock with one squinted eye - 8:01am. How does he already have any liquor? Is it just an IV that drips it into his veins? "Don't be a poor role model." Johanna can't quite see but by the surprised yelp and two steps forward Effie takes, it becomes clear he's pinched her bottom. She storms passed him, muttering expletives.
Johanna and Haymitch follow after her, the latter not able to stop his chuckles. The Tributes look at them expectantly. Johanna smiles at Katniss, who looks like she might've slept in those clothes. But at least maybe she slept a little, Johanna thinks to herself. Better than she did on her train to the Capitol.
They eat in silence, only filled with Effie's voice as she begins talking about the schedule of events that the Tributes are expected to attend, how long they go on for, and so on. Katniss looks like she's about to fall into her plate of eggs, and Johanna smiles. She pushes a cup of steaming black liquid toward her, nodding. "Drink it." Katniss' nose scrunches as she smells the liquid. Coffee, she realizes. They couldn't afford any back home, but her mother was very fond of it. "Drop a sugar cube or two into it," Johanna instructs. "Everything tastes better when it's a little sweeter."
"Is that some of Finnick Odair's advice?" Johanna turns slowly to face Peeta, who suddenly looks horrified at his joke. Katniss' eyes enlarge, losing herself in the taste of the coffee. Johanna's eyes become dangerously dark, and Katniss finds she can't stop staring into them. Something about Johanna is so darkly enigmatic, and the younger girl found herself very drawn to it. But Johanna's glare is fixed at Peeta, who looks like he has shrunk about four feet into his chair, so she doesn't notice Katniss' stare. "Sorry," he mutters.
"So Haymitch," Katniss interjects, trying to break up the awkward moment. "You're supposed to give us advice?"
"Yeah," Haymitch replies, lifting his red drink in the air. "Stay alive." He laughs uncontrollably at his joke, but the others on the train sit in silence. Effie leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.
"That's funny," Peeta says with a nod. Suddenly he lashes his arm out, smacking the glass onto the floor, shattering it. "But not to us." Johanna raises her eyebrows, a little bit impressed by the normally reserved boy's anger. Haymitch suddenly reaches back and clocks Peeta in the jaw, sending the boy to the floor. Katniss instinctively picks up her knife, stabbing it in between Haymitch and his other drink. He grabs his own knife, and Johanna lunges across the table, grabbing the larger man by the throat. With all the strength and adrenaline she can muster, Johanna pins him to the wall. His knife clatters to the floor, the only sound to be heard in the cabin.
"Touch her and I'll fucking kill you myself," Johanna seethes in a whisper, her dark eyes boring into Haymitch's icy blue stare. They know each other well enough by now that Haymitch nods and Johanna lets him go. She has chosen her favorite. Haymitch rubs at his throat, looking at Peeta from around Johanna, whose fists are still shaking with rage. Katniss watches interestedly, wondering what Johanna said to Haymitch that took him down a peg. She also was affected with how quick and strong Johanna was. It made her stomach stir in a way she had never known before. Katniss takes a long gulp of her coffee to try and settle whatever feeling that was.
Peeta applies some ice to his lip. "Don't," Haymitch says as Johanna sits back at the table, this time next to Katniss. Her close proximity makes Katniss shudder, imperceptibly, thank goodness. She can see how taut and fine Johanna's muscles are, and from this distance, she can feel the other woman's body heat. Katniss nearly swoons until she takes another loud gulp of her coffee. Peeta furrows his brow in confusion. "Let it look like you got roughed up with another Tribute."
"We're not allowed to do that," Katniss interjects. Johanna eyes her. She was pretty handy with that knife. She begins to wonder if the young hunter had any real hunting skills. Something she could translate into killing people, and not just squirrels.
Haymitch shrugs. "Who cares? So you fought and didn't get caught. Good. Now stand up." Neither of them budge and Johanna lets out a sigh. She nudges Katniss with her elbow, and the brunette reluctantly stands back from the table. Peeta walks around, standing next to her. Haymitch inspects them, nodding. "I guess they got me another set of fighters, hm? Before Johanna, I don't know how long it has been. And you're not bad looking."
"Look," Johanna interjects, walking around the Tributes to stand next to Haymitch. "If you don't get between this idiot and his liquor, he will stay sober enough to get you through this." Haymitch opens his mouth to protest, but Johanna's wild glare shuts him up. Katniss watches this exchange, the ghost of a smile on her face.
Haymitch nods again. "When you get inside the Capitol, the stylists are going to remake you. They are going to do a lot of things you're not going to like." He levels his eyes at Katniss. "Do not refuse." As expected, she opens her mouth to protest. "Trust me, they know a lot more about what the Capitol wants than you do." Suddenly behind him, the glare of the Capitol emerges from the darkness of the tunnel they were in.
Johanna watches as both Tributes go walking toward the window, amazed at the sight. They share a look, one of sadness. Their first ride to the Capitol was fun, too. But everything after is a nightmare. Peeta begins waving to the crowd, and off Katniss' surprised stare he shrugs. "Who knows? One of them may be rich."
Johanna lets out a chuckle, and both Tributes turn and look at her. "Don't get too excited, kid. They want to see you die."
"Fire?" Johanna asks, running her fingers through her hair. One of the stylists passing by harumphs at how she's mussed the style, but quickly scatters under Johanna's glare. Cinna smiles and nods, as calm as ever. "You're going to set them on fire."
"Not quite," Cinna replies enigmatically. "The illusion of fire. Do you think they should be in coal miners outfits?"
Johanna thinks back to her costume - a barely-there set of overalls with a headlamp. She hadn't objected - she hadn't said much at all - but she looked ridiculous. Twelve had been dressed as coal miners for years. When Cinna emerged after the Reaping, Effie was alight with glee. Apparently he was one of the best designers in the Capitol. Luckily for Peeta and Katniss. "Touché."
...
When Katniss emerges from her dressing room, Johanna can't help but allow her jaw to slack. Katniss looks...incredible. The tight black jumpsuit hugs her physique, which is fit, if a little too thin. But the cape. Something about it shimmers a bit too much, and she catches Cinna's gaze and he smiles like a madman. Katniss, for her part, looks almost comfortable in the get-up. "Holy shit, Twelve," Johanna says, her mouth spreading into a grin. "You look hot."
Katniss blushes, looking down at her boots self-consciously. "Apparently I'm going to be even hotter later," she replies, giving a nod to Cinna. "On fire, even."
"Hard to imagine you could look hotter." Katniss' cheeks flush with embarrassment, and Cinna just chuckles softly under his breath. Johanna grins and nods toward the hallway. "Let's go find the boy." She loops her arm through Katniss' as if they were two friends going to the market, instead of just two near strangers about to put on a show.
Effie greets them as they get to the chariot, and Peeta looks relieved to be away from her chattering. He also is staring at Katniss, with more than just a little bit of desire in his eyes. Off Johanna's unintentional glare, he clears his throat and looks away. Johanna's mouth curls into a smug grin. "Where's Haymitch?"
Effie grunts. "Somewhere under a spout, I'm sure," she replies with an uncharacteristic snarky remark. "No matter, Johanna and I are here. And Cinna!" She greets the man with two light air-kisses, prompting eye-rolls from all three Twelve natives. "Okay, now up into your chariot." Effie claps her hands excitedly, and the two Tributes climb into their chariot. Just after Eleven is half-way around the bend, Cinna uses a torch to light their capes. They both gasp as the horses take off, a trail of fire behind them.
Johanna and Effie close in after them, and Effie is trembling with excitement. "They are going to steal the show."
"She certainly is. The boy needs a little help not looking so constipated." Effie slaps Johanna's arm playfully, watching the crowd applaud and gasp for the two flaming Tributes from Twelve. Johanna turns to Cinna, rapping him in the shoulder. "Now where were you when I was a Tribute?"
As they disembark the prep teams descend upon them, putting out the flames and loudly clamoring about how amazing they looked. Johanna scans the area, and the sneers from other Districts (One and Two especially) confirm what she already knew: Twelve had stolen the show. More importantly, Katniss had stolen the show. Her effortless beauty and how natural the flames look around her, had enraptured the entire audience. Probably the entire city.
Haymitch finally emerges looking dapper in a suit, but his typical glossy-eyed stare gives his drinking away. Johanna eyes the Tributes as they remark on each other, whispering in low tones. Something unfamiliar rushes through her veins as Katniss gently kisses Peeta's bruise. Haymitch notices the younger girl tense and takes her by the wrist. "That's going to be their advantage," he whispers. Unable to tear her eyes away from either Tribute, mostly Katniss, Johanna doesn't respond.
Effie interrupts the moment by announcing that they must retire to the Training Center. The five of them fit into the smallish elevator and Effie presses the button so they immediately ascend to the Twelfth floor. When the elevator rings at the destination, everyone slowly files off. Katniss looks longingly behind her and Johanna steps back inside. "Wanna ride?" she asks suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.
Without waiting for instruction Johanna closes the door and presses the button to descend back to the ground floor. Katniss presses her nose against the glass, her hands up on the pane as well. Johanna watches with amusement, pressing the "12" button again. Katniss looks delighted as it shoots back upward, getting them to their destination in less than a few seconds. "Thank you," Katniss says in a whisper, an embarrassed rosiness to her cheeks.
"Not a lot of fun to be had after training starts in a day or so, so might as well get your fill." Johanna leads Katniss to her room and watches as the brunette's eyes go wide. The room is covered in so much expensive fabric, so many gold-inlaid pieces of furniture, it was amazing the first time Johanna had seen it, too. It was bittersweet, Katniss' wide-eyed innocence. Even if she won, she'd never be able to look at the Capitol (or the world) with such innocence again. "Yeah, it's pretty overwhelming in here. I mean, fuck, if these are going to be your last days, go out big, you know?"
Katniss laughs - at the absurdity of the plushness of the room, the ridiculousness of trying to make her "last days" comfortable so far from home - and falls back onto her bed, running her hands along the velvety feeling of the fabric. "Has Haymitch talked to you about our strategy yet?" Katniss suddenly sit upright, trying to coax a sober expression onto her face.
Johanna shakes her head from the doorway. "Not yet, kid. But we're working on it. By dinner tomorrow we should have something ironed out for you guys." She puts her hands in the pockets of her pants. Katniss, for the first time tonight, openly admires Johanna's look. They've forsaken a dress this time in favor of a tailored suit, which cuts a feminine figure. No shirt underneath a fitted blazer, which dips just below Johanna's breasts, exposing her lack of a bra. Katniss figures they must be taped in there, because any movement would've caused the fabric to crease and there would be no more secrets about Johanna Mason. The tailored black pants fall down to her large, stiletto heels that Katniss isn't sure how anyone walks around in. And the smoky eyeliner they used just makes her look even more menacing than her constant scowl already does. But she doesn't make Katniss feel any fear. It's more magnetic than that.
"Oh, okay." Katniss looks around the room, inhaling the sweet smell of the air. Everything in the Capitol seemed like it was dipped in sugar. She looked to Johanna, who seemed very distracted at the threshold of her room. "Do you stay here, too?"
Johanna nods. "A few doors down, if you need anything." She stands in the doorway for a few more awkward moments. "Well, sweet dreams, girl on fire." She winks at the Tribute and closes the door behind her.
At dinner the following night, Katniss and Peeta are both in better moods. Effie has filled them in on how amazing they looked, and conducted themselves, at the chariot ride. Johanna and Haymitch watch silently, allowing the stylists to discuss amongst themselves about their next idea for them. Cinna is, as usual, mute on the matter. Johanna keeps her eyes on Katniss, whose youth is hidden beneath a set of eyes that look like they've seen too many turns of the world. She remembers that feeling, of being too old for her age, but too young to feel so old. After her parents had been murdered, the only solace she had found was in Four with Finnick. His relentless light had been the only thing that could pull her from her darkness. She wasn't sure Katniss had anyone to find solace in. From the Justice Center, the only non-family member was Gale Hawthorne. Suddenly, Johanna's head throbbed at the thought that maybe there was more there than just an acute friendship.
Once the flaming dessert was served and eaten, Haymitch stood from the table. "Now, if you two kids will excuse us, the adults have some talking to do. Get some sleep. Tomorrow's the big day."
Katniss and Peeta are at once insulted but obedient, bidding their goodbyes to the stylist team. Once they are safely out of earshot, Cinna turns to Haymitch and Johanna. "So what's the plan?"
"The boy wants to protect her. He's practically given up on himself," Haymitch reveals. Johanna spits her drink back into the glass, getting an eye roll from Effie. "My solution is to present them as a team. As two of a whole. He's presented an opportunity they both need - to look like star-crossed lovers."
"I'm sorry, what?" Johanna interrupts, glaring at the older man. Something about watching Katniss fawn over Peeta made her temperature rise. "What kind of plan is that?"
"A good one," Haymitch shoots back. "He's going to try and protect her, and she's not going to allow it unless she thinks it speaks to their survival. You've seen her. She's too selfless. She'll pity him, once she gets over it. It'll help them both survive as long as possible. But the girl's too stubborn, so we have to work around her."
"You're just going to have him spring this on her? When?"
"At the interviews. She'll go in and talk about her sister; everyone likes Primrose. She's very sweet." Johanna rolls her eyes. She hadn't spent enough time in Twelve to know Katniss' little sister. She was surprised Haymitch had spent enough time outside of a bottle to notice her, either. "And Peeta will say he's in love with Katniss. And that will be how I get them both sponsors. Otherwise, he'll die and she'll probably get crushed by a Career."
For some reason this enrages Johanna who slams her fist on the table. Effie lets out a quiet whimper of surprise. "And if I object?"
Haymitch laughs, taking a long pull from his flash. "And why, pray tell, would you object to this plan?" The way he eyes Johanna speaks to how much he understands her. How much her understands what she herself cannot fully understand yet. Yes, she favors Katniss. She usually favors the female Tributes. But the thought of Katniss and Peeta being lovers makes her irrational.
Unable to explain that coherently, and without sounding like a complete lunatic, she quiets down. "It's tacky," she offers lamely.
"Tacky, but powerful." Johanna resigns herself into her drink, unable and unwillingly to argue the topic any further. But Haymitch looks so smug she wants to launch the knife at his face. While he blathers on more about how the set-up will work, Johanna drowns him out with her own thoughts. She vows to get some alone time with Katniss to explain this plan. To tell her how it really should go in the arena. How she has to look out for herself. How Johanna will be looking out for her.
She doesn't question this newfound loyalty to Katniss Everdeen. There's no time for that when she could be dead within a week.