I do not own the Hunger Games, or any of the characters involved in the book; everything belongs to Suzanne Collins. This was just a short little one-shot I had in mind, and I hope you enjoy! It was a bit challenging to write, and I'm not completely satisfied with the results, but I'm proud enough. Feel free to R&R. Now, without further ado, enjoy your readings..

It had been no accident.

Foxface had seen Peeta pluck the nightlock berries off the bush. She had watched as he proudly tossed them onto the small strip of plastic, his mouth curled up in a satisfied grin. It was obvious he didn't know what they were; he was going to die because he was too thick-headed to take a closer look at his bounty.

For a minute, the redhead allowed herself to savour the thought of the bread boy just disappearing. The cannon would sound, of course, and Katniss would realize soon enough that it was her precious Peeta who passed, but still, the thought was so tempting.

But she couldn't let that happen.

It's not that she doubted Katniss for a minute; she was almost certain the hunter would be able to tell they were poisonous. There was a slim chance she wouldn't, though.

There was also that ever present factor of lover boy. If he died, Katniss would lose it. Foxface knew this; she had been trailing after them long enough to see the sparks between them. It broke her heart, for she had fallen for the brown-haired Seam girl, who hardly knew she existed.

Throughout the entire Games she had been trying to keep Katniss alive. She had shown her that there were bombs around the Career's stockpile of goods; she had shown her that it was indeed possible to get her District's bag from the Feast; every move the redhead made was calculated to keep the other girl breathing. So, could she really let her die from one boy's foolish mistake?

No, she couldn't, and that pained her deeply.

Letting out a soft sigh, Foxface waited until Peeta left, slipping silently from her cover in the brush. Cautiously she tugged a few berries off the bush, rolling them carefully between her forefinger and thumb. She watched as the juices stained her fingertips purple, curious thoughts drifting through her mind.

Was it painful? Were the effects immediate, or would she have to suffer for a few minutes before she took her last breath? Would anyone care when she died? Would Katniss care?

As each she asked herself each new question, she realized just how hard this decision was. She had the chance to live; she'd made it this far, hadn't she? She could make it to the end and win if she continued to stay away from the remaining tributes. Katniss would die, of course, but she would live. That had to be worth something, didn't it?

Silently she asked herself: Can you really do this? Are you willing to give up your life to save the girl who never glances your way? Whose heart yearns for someone else, someone who could win this with her?

Closing her eyes, Foxface took a deep breath and nodded. Those watching probably had no idea what she was doing and the cameras were probably seconds away from panning off her and finding something more interesting to show than a girl staring at berries.

It's now or never, she thought as she clenched her eyes shut, picturing Katniss in her mind. The older girl was dressed in her interview dress, with the fake flames dancing along the bottom of the gown. Seeing her there, twirling and laughing, letting her tough-girl-trying-to-save-her-sister mask slip off just for a moment, was when Foxface had truly fallen head-over-heels for her. It was in that instance, sitting at the edge of the stage and watching as the Girl on Fire took a bow and walked to her seat, she had vowed to keep her safe and alive. And she'd be damned if she broke her promise to herself now.

Opening her eyes, the ginger-haired girl shoved the handful of berries into her mouth, chewing them violently. The juices held a bitter taste, and her lips puckered in protest. Still, she swallowed the foul mush.

This is for you, Girl on Fire, she thought as she sat down. Already she could feel the traces of the poison; her stomach was beginning to cramp, her abdomen giving small spasms as the pain stabbed at her. Leaning back, Foxface focused on the sky above, ignoring the symptoms. Already she was going stiff in her limbs, her breath more laboured as her lungs began to object along with her stomach.

Soundlessly she sent out a plea, her mind reciting her dying wish with little trouble. Let her realize what this meant, force her connect the dots. I know poisonous plants. I wouldn't just slip up by accident. Make her understand that I loved her, and I was willing to die to save her and her lover boy.

The last thing she remembers hearing was Katniss screaming out Peeta's name. The cannon rang out as she took her last breath, but it couldn't cover the fear and panic laced within the other girl's voice as she searched for bread boy. A single tear fell from her eye as her body went limp and she exhaled for the last time.

Foxface, the sneaky and silent tribute who had somehow managed to outwit the others for so long, was gone; she had been bested by a handful of nightlock.

But it had been no accident.