Night by patricia51

(Moved by something she can't pin down Katniss slips down to the training hall the night after the first session. Someone else is there, someone who scares and thrills her at the same time. Femslash. Katniss/Clove.)

I was surprised to find that the elevator was both working and unguarded as was the way to the training hall and the hall itself. Oh yes I know that the force field Peeta showed me probably covers all the openings to the Tribute Building besides the public access. But I also found out the Capitol has somehow coded the elevator. It won't stop at any floor for me except twelve and the lower levels; the entrance and the corridor to the hall.

I tell myself that the only reason I'm doing this is because of the thrill of that first ride in the elevator and when I couldn't sleep I just couldn't resist another ride. The truth is I couldn't resist something else or rather someone else.

Maybe I should have dressed in the basic Tribute training uniform that we wore today. I probably wouldn't look as glaringly out of place as I'm sure I do, barefoot with only the soft yellow sleeveless shirt I was wearing and a hastily donned pair of pants snatched from the closet. I move carefully down the hallway, aware that there's a good chance everything I do is monitored and slip into the gloom of the training room.

It started as soon as we all got the opening lecture. Talk about getting your attention, the way the woman reminded us in a perfectly matter-of-fact voice that soon twenty three of us would be dead. Well it worked. I kept in mind Haymitch's admonition not to reveal too much and stayed away from archery.

Of course I took the opportunity to look over the rest of the Tributes. Haymitch said to do that too. Some threats are obvious like the hulking boy from District Eleven. Some aren't at first but a second glance shows there's more to them than meets the eye. The girl from Five for instance. Something tells me there's more to her than a casual inspection shows.

And then of course there are the Careers. Marvel from District One is capable but seems to brag more than show off his skills. That can't be to hide them, everyone knows how well trained the Careers are. So he's down the totem pole, whatever those are, behind Eleven and certainly behind Cato, the boy from Two. He shows off his skills and they are many and all of them deadly.

I almost don't make a thorough inspection of the Career Girls, at least any more than I normally would check out other girls, especially cute ones. I have ever since I found that they roused feelings in me at least as strong if not stronger than cute boys do. Not that I have done anything about any attraction to either. I have enough trouble surviving and feeding Prim and my Mother without any romantic entanglements of any kind.

Glimmer, ugh what a strange name, is lovely indeed. She'll bring in the sponsors all right. Then my eyes swept over the shorter girl Clove with her hair in a long pigtail and I realized that she was looking directly at me. Our eyes locked and something deep inside me quivered. Maybe it was fear, I had already seen how deadly she is with knives but I don't think that was it. The thrill in my belly was something even more primal that fear.

We couldn't have stared at each other for more than a few seconds but it felt like it much have been hours. I couldn't look away. Apparently neither could she for it took a jostle on the arm from Cato for her to turn her eyes.

If I cursed I might have sworn at that stare; at getting lost in someone else's eyes. NOW for God's sake? In just days I would be fighting for my life and I needed to make every second count. I did NOT need to be glancing over at where I had last seen Clove to see if she was looking my way. As often as not she was. And sometimes I was sure I felt a pair of burning eyes on me and didn't dare look around to see if it was her. Maybe I didn't need to do that. I already knew it was her.

I concentrated, attaching myself to Peeta and working with him. I genuinely was impressed by his camouflage ability. When he fell from the climbing ropes I encouraged him to demonstrate his strength and was glad that he did. After all, he did save my life and my family once. He should not be taken for granted. Besides, a little respect for District Twelve can spill over to me.

After the session we went to our separate floors. I could not resist. Just as we left I glanced over my shoulder. She was looking. And that feeling inside me stirred again. I may have actually muttered my number one thought "This is CRAZY" aloud. At least enough for Peeta to look at me and ask if everything was okay. Pretty silly question given our circumstances but I knew what he meant. I just shrugged.

I tried to eat as much supper as I could. After all, it was delicious and it seemed never ending and above all else I needed to fatten myself up. They're not called "The Hunger Games" for nothing. In just a few days food will be scarce. I do manage to eat a fair amount but the subtle flavors are lost on me. As good as it is my mind is elsewhere and the food is nothing more than just something that's filling. When I finish I excuse myself and go to my room. I try to lose myself in the huge video screen that covers the wall but it's no good. The images from previous Hunger Games make me ill and the breath taking vista of forested hills just makes me homesick. Maybe Gale and I should have run away. I dismiss that thought immediately. Prim would be here right now and that's too terrible a thought to endure.

I try to sleep but that's not going to happen. I come back into the main room to see if Cinna is still here but he's gone. So is everyone else. I don't want to talk to Peeta. Not right now anyway. Then I think of Clove and I'm headed to the door and the elevator.

So here I am. My eyes adjust to the light and I look around at the equipment, at the different stations at the raised area the Game Makers and potential sponsors use. Nothing. Well I knew it was a fool's errand. And what was I going to do if by the sheerest chance she was here? What was I going to say? I turn around to leave.

And there she is. We stand and stare again. Her lips twist in a cocky grin.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

I don't know what to say. If I did I'm not sure I could say it, whatever "it" might happen to be. I don't understand at all what is going on except that when I saw Clove my heart lurched. That's impossible isn't it? This is a girl I've never spoken with; who in fact I will be in a competition with shortly that only one of us can come out of alive.

The confusion must show on my face because Clove shrugs. "I can't understand it either. Normally I would be trying to get Glimmer, partially because I like blondes and partially because I automatically make a play for any girl Cato in interested in. It's been a game between us for years. But I could care less about Glimmer, Cato or anyone else. If you hadn't come here tonight I would have sought you out; in your room, here on the training floor or even out in the arena. I can't explain it. But God I am drawn to you like I never have been to anyone before." And with that she's on me like a springing cat.

I'm not big or heavy. Very few people in District Twelve are and none of them are from the Seam. But the exercise that hunting has given me along with a diet much higher in protein than just about anyone I know has made me well-muscled although slender. But before I can even brace myself Clove has me pinned to the nearby wall. She presses her body, also firm and muscled and shapely, against me. Capturing my wrists in her hands she lifts my arms over my head. Her lips play along the side of my neck then find my ear.

"You'll have to be faster than that in the arena," she whispers. "You have to react in a split-second to a threat." She kisses down and then she licks the soft hollow of my throat. What if this little thing pressing against you, feeling your breath and your life speeding along was say, a knife rather than a tongue? What if it was death instead of life?"

It's just about time to show this sexy, beautiful, cocky girl that I'm no pushover. That kind anyway. There's another reason my heart is beating wildly and my breath is coming in short sharp gasps and it has nothing to do with hand to hand combat. No, on another level Clove has already pushed me over. But I always push back.

Her hands have slid down my sides, brushing over my breasts as they go. I remain where I am, against the wall and my arms upraised as though in surrender. Then when she catches the hem of my top and pulls up I let my knees give way and drop down. At the cost of baring everything I have above my waist I now have her off balance. She staggers slightly, having expected more resistance. I lunge forward, my arms going around her waist and drive her backwards.

For one, two, even three backwards steps Clove fights to regain her balance. Then her heel hits the edge of the training mat and she falls backwards. As she topples onto the resilient surface I go with her. My momentum allows me to slide up her body and I pin her to the mat.

But victory in this struggle is not just on one level. I lean forward and capture her mouth with mine. Her lips part and my tongue takes possession of her mouth, tasting her sweetness. I break the kiss only to whisper "You mean like that?" before I kiss her again and again.

Her legs are parted and my body is between them. She bends her knees, plants her feet on the mat and tries to flip me over her head using her hips as well as her leg muscles. Failing that she rolls me sideways but I keep rolling and remain on top. Then she changes plans. And objectives.

Once more she bucks up with her hips. I'm ready for it but I have to lift my torso up just a little and brace my hands on her shoulders. Now that she's free to do so her face darts up and her mouth swallows my right breast. Her tongue teases my nipple and I can do nothing to stop it. Not that I want to do that in the slightest. I'm too busy moaning in sheer pleasure to object. Only my own fingers have ever stroked it like that and they didn't come close to this.

I'm so lost in what Clove is doing to my breast and nipple I almost miss her sneak attack. Her hands, which had been pushing fruitlessly at me, have shifted. I feel the snap at the top of my pants pop free and then the buttons below it as they give way one by one. Any moment now I will be naked, something that I have never been with another person since I grew up. I find that I don't have any objections to being naked with Clove; my objection is that she won t be naked with me. That has to be remedied. So even as she pushes my pants down my hips I nearly rip her top loose, which comes free nicely and shows that Clove dispensed with anything else above the waist.

Now I let her roll me over on to my back. I kick my legs and she raises herself enough to let my flailing get my pants down to my ankles. Of course the moment her hips are in the air I commence my own attack on the tights she's wearing. It takes a bit longer as she wore shoes but she manages to lever her feet out of them as my hands go down the back of her legs, carrying her black tights with them. So we finish almost at the same time in the race to undress each other.

We lie on our sides facing each other, chests heaving with our exertion. Now we come together softly, open mouths meeting in a long kiss that might go on forever. I cover one of her perfect breasts with my hand and the nipple feels like a diamond against my palm in its exquisite hardness. Then unbelievably it grows even hard as my fingers roll it, tug it and pinch it. Clove throws a leg over mine and uses it to draw us back together as her hand runs down my back and cups my butt.

"Oh my God Clove," I moan as our lips part only so that we can rain kisses over each other.

"Katniss, Katniss I want you Katniss. Right now." Now when she lays me back and slides on top of me I not only do not resist I urge her on. Our breasts mash together and I know my own nipples are boring into the firmness of her orbs as deeply as her are into mine. Our tummies and mound mold one to the other. Then she sets her wetness against mine and begins to rock. I buck so hard with pleasure I might have thrown her off had not my legs wrapped themselves around her.

There are no words. We save our breath for the power of our coupling. Her most secret place touches mine, both as hard as the pearls they are called. They circle and then part as she grinds up and down on me, using her clit and riding mine. I strain up to her.

Clove is fucking me, Clove is fucking me is all that runs through my one track mind. And I'm fucking her back. My body is building to a climax like I never dreamed it could reach. Our mouths lock together once more and we smother the moans and squeals and cries of our passion. Then my body erupts and at the same time I feel her let go.

The shudders seem to go on and on. Finally we fall limp on the pad.

Sanity returns. What in God's name would we do, would we have done, if someone had walked in? I nearly giggle at the answer. If it had happened a few minutes ago it would have taken drawn Peacekeeper guns to stop us.

I look at Clove. Her face is tinged with sadness. She touches my face with a tenderness I never, ever would have expected from this knife-throwing Career.

"You know," she begins hesitantly, "you know this doesn't, CAN'T change anything. In just days we're going to be in the arena with the others and only one of us can come out."

I know that. How ironic. But I kiss her anyway. Because even if there is nothing more to hope for we had this. And even when there is no future who knows what the future might bring?

(The End)