A/N: I killed the original AN that was here because it was annoying as hell.

I've made minor edits here for worldbuilding, plot, clarity, etc. Enjoy.

It was taking too long.

Jeanette had been suspecting this for several months. It had started as a niggling worry in the back of her mind, annoying and persistent. She had ignored it. But since then, it had grown in size and prominence until it was now like it had taken over the whole of her mind.

The arena was normally done by now or in a few days from now. To be sure, there were exceptions. The arena of the 65th Games, for example, which was often cited as a total failure, had taken only a month. The arena of the 75th ten years later had not been completely finished until after the reapings due to bugs in the monkey's and jabberjay's programming. But the 75th had been given extra time only because it was a very special Games, along with being a Quarter Quell. The Games that fully crushed the rebellion deserved to have extra preparation time, after all.

Officially, the arena was supposed to be done before the reapings. The arena was projected to be finished just before the opening ceremonies. But Jeanette had been overseeing the placement of the bear mutts (which had given them some trouble), of various traps, and the timing on the volcano. Each of those projects separately might have been finished by the ceremonies if she put her whole team on it. But together, they would not be completed by the time the Games begun.

Jeanette leaned over the large sketch on the table. It was supposed to be a new timer for the volcano. One of the younger workers who had been raised in District 3 had brought it up. Many Peacekeepers who were originally from the Districts were given labor jobs in the Capitol after they retired. The timer was a very clever idea, but it was too complicated to finish on time. They would have to do with the old timer.

One of the laborers burst into her office, and Jeanette jumped.

"Mrs. Heavens-" the worker began, but Jeanette cut him off.

"Firstly, I'm unmarried, so it's Miss. Secondly, I'm your boss, not your friend, so it's Overseer," she corrected. She suddenly realized that she'd come off a lot harsher than she'd intended to, so she gave an apologetic smile.

"Overseer Heavens," the worker said. He blinked once. "President Snow is on the line."

"Didn't he die?" Jeanette said, fully aware of how blunt she sounded. Although she wasn't sure whether he really was dead. She hadn't been watching television. She'd been a tiny bit overworked.

The worker shook his head. "No. I mean, yes, President Coriolanus Snow died very tragically several weeks ago. His granddaughter Excellence Birdsall has taken over for him."

Jeanette nodded, but inside she was more than a note frustrated. What was this, a monarchy? They could have at least pretended to have a vote. That's what they used to do, anyways.

"I'll speak to her in a minute. Do you know what she wants to talk about?"

"She says that it's a government secret, Miss- I mean, Overseer," the worker said. "Um, phone's in the other room."

"You're dismissed," Jeanette said. The worker nodded gratefully and left.

Jeanette quickly cleaned up the papers spread over her desk and turned off the projector- meeting with the old President had tended to take a long time, and she suspected that his granddaughter would take after him.

The worker had picked up for her, and President Excellence Birdsall took up one entire wall of the phone room, looking bored.

"Your Majesty," Jeanette joked, complete with a little curtsey. President Birdsall smiled, but it was too cheerful- clearly forced. Either Jeanette was less funny than she thought, or there was something more happening here than a routine check-up.

"How's the arena going? Do you need more labor?" the President asked.

Jeanette did, but she wasn't about to admit that to the President. "Fine," she said. "Is something wrong, Mrs. President? Any special requests?"

The President's forced smile grew wider. "No. I've just been calling all the Gamemakers to make sure their respective areas are all OK. My first year as President, and it's a Quarter Quell- well, I want to make sure this looks good."

"Of course, Mrs. President," Jeanette said. She started to wonder what this was about. "Is that it, then?"

The President nodded and reached out to flip a switch. Jeanette moved to hang up, but then she noticed President Birdsall hadn't hung up- just switched the transmission to an encrypted, high-security version.

"Mrs. President?" Jeanette said.

"Call me Birdsall. Honorifics waste time," the President said. "Do you know why this Quarter Quell asked for all females, Heavens?"

"I don't know much history, Mrs Presi- I mean, Birdsall," Jeanette said.

The President nodded. "The writers of the original Quarter Quell cards projected that due to differences in climate, air pressure, physicality, and food sources, there would be more of one gender in the Districts than the other in one hundred years. They decided to make the 100th Quarter Quell to kill off some of these extras. Their projections were correct up to this point, but sadly, they chose the wrong gender. Currently, the Districts are in dire need of females. We could encourage the next generation to have more children, but then we would have to feed them better, perhaps put them on welfare. We have been moving the poorest Capitol families with daughters out to the Districts, but this is making little to no difference."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Jeanette said.

"You were lying when you said you needed no more labor," the President said.

Jeanette shrugged. When caught in a lie, she never tried to deny it. "So?"

"How about we make a deal. If you make a certain addition onto the arena for me, I will move almost all of the other Gamemaker's labor forces to you. You will be able to finish your arena before the reapings, as well as the secret project I have contacted you about."

Jeanette pondered. She didn't even know yet what the secret project was, or how all that history had been relevant. But she needed the labor.

Besides, this was the President. She could hardly deny the woman who was arguably the most powerful person in the world.

"Of course, Birdsall," Jeanette said. The President nodded, her smile now genuine- and wicked-looking.

"Then let us begin, Heavens."

A/N: God, I hate fourteen-year-old me.

Thanks for reading, especially to those of you who somehow survived and stuck through these early, messy chapters and garbage A/Ns.

-Phannie