Hazel follows me to where Haymitch is asleep on the couch in the living room. I pick up the cup of water that's sitting on the coffee table, and reach to take the knife away from Haymitch's grip when Hazel stops me.

"That's not necessary." She says, and she kneels down to his level and gently shakes his shoulder.

"Haymitch." She sing-speaks softly, as I've seen her do with her children dozens of times.

He awakens, and looks at her. The knife is in his hand, but he doesn't swipe at her, like he's done to me many times before.

"What?" He asks. His voice is soft, groggy. I've never seen him like this before.

"Katniss took a call from the Capitol for you." She replies in a low soothing voice.

He looks at me.

"What?" He asks.

"All the Victors have been invited to the Capitol for some event." I say.

He sits up.

"What kind of event?" He asks.

"They didn't say."

He puts his finger and thumb to his closed eyes.

"Then we're going to the Capitol. When?" He says.

"Two days from now." I say.

"We'll have to leave today. Does Peeta know?" He asks.

"I don't know." I say.

"Go get him, and get ready. Be ready by 3." He says.

I give Hazel a quick hug, and then go back to my house. Peeta's there. He's packing his suitcase in his bedroom, and across the hall through my open bedroom door, an empty suitcase is on my bed.

"You heard?" He asks.

I nod.

"I was kind of hoping I wouldn't have to go back to the Capitol. Ever." Peeta says apprehensively.

"Me too." I say.

Peeta and I were going to lie low until his face healed, and now we're going to the Capitol. We're famous as both Victors and Rebels. We're definitely going to be televised. And I don't want to even think about how Haymitch will react when he sees Peeta's condition. Or worse, Effie Trinket's reaction.

"What will we tell people about your face?" I ask.

"We'll think of something. Maybe we can say I was attacked by a bear." He grins, but this only makes me more upset.

He opens his arms, and I walk into them. I hug him closely, and squeeze him harder than necessary, but he doesn't complain. He kisses me, and I kiss him back.

"A bear might work." I say.

He chuckles, and kisses my forehead.

"Haymitch wants us ready to leave by 3." I say.

I break the hug, and go to my bedroom to pack my clothes. I don't really pay attention to what I pack. Just throw some clothes in. Done.

I carry my suitcase out of the bedroom, and down the stairs to the door. I go back upstairs and lay on Peeta's bed, watching him as he packs.

"You're done?" He asks.

I shrug as I pick at a loose thread on his blanket.

"We don't know what the weather will be like. What if it's hot, or cold? Did you at least pack a nice dress in case we need to go somewhere?" He asks.

"They'll probably have something for me to wear." I say.

But Peeta's probably right. I should pack something formal to wear just in case.

I leave Peeta's bedroom, and go to my mother's former room. The precious clothes Cinna made me that survived the war remain in here, where they're safe from harm. If Cinna was here, I could leave my trip's wardrobe to him. He loved clothes, and he always made me unforgettably beautiful. But those days are long gone.

I look at the dresses, and feel the different materials along my skin. Cinna's presence permeates the room. I expect him to come walking in through that doorway, ready to dress me. But he doesn't. And I'm scared to take any of Cinna's clothes into the Capitol in case someone decides to take it away from me. I can't bear the thought of being separated from my final connection to Cinna, and I'll treasure these clothes for the rest of my life.

But I don't have any other formal evening dresses, and probably won't have time to buy one in the Capitol. Well, I have some of my mother's nice dresses from her merchant days, but those are drab by Capitol standard. I sigh, and rub a silky black dress against my cheek. I can still faintly smell him on these clothes, and it brings tears to my eyes.

I don't know which dress to choose. They're all so beautiful. I might have stood there forever if Peeta didn't come into the room to check on me. Without looking at him, I pick a dark blue one with tiny diamonds embedded in it and lacy intricate sleeves. I retrieve the matching dark blue shoes on the ground, and I follow Peeta back to his room, where he gently packs the dress and shoes into his case. I then lay on the bed and watch him zip up his suitcase.

"It'll be ok, Katniss." He says.

"Yeah." I say.

"We'll get to see the other Victors…. Beetee, Annie, Joha-..." He stops, "Well, you'll get to see Beetee and Annie anyway."

"I don't know if they'd invite Annie." I say. Even now, the Capitol pretends Annie Odair doesn't exist because she's the epitome of everything that's wrong with their Games. And I kinda hope they don't invite her. It'd make me too sad to see her, and her son Finn who reminds me so much of his father.

"Well, I guess we'll see." He says, and finishes packing.

I carry Peeta's suitcase downstairs, and he follows me. I place it next to mine near the front door, and we go to sit in the living room on the couch.

"What do you want for lunch?" I ask.

"Anything is fine." Peeta says.

Since I'll be the one making lunch, I decide on sandwiches. I get up, and make ham, cheese, lettuce, and mustard sandwiches for us. I return to the couch and Peeta takes his. I leave the plate on the coffee table.

"This is the best sandwich I've ever had." He said.

"Yeah right." I say.

"No, really. It is." He says and takes another bite.

After lunch is finished, I scooch closer to him, and kick my legs up next to me. I rest my head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around my shoulder. We sit in silence. And I listen to his heart beat in his chest.

A sense of dread washes over me. I feel just like I did when I was being carted off to the Capitol on the train for my first Games. I have a feeling this trip isn't a social visit, and something bad is waiting to us. The thought of visiting the Capitol is stressful enough, but something feels wrong here. I wonder if Peeta's feeling it too.

"Peeta, are you going to be okay?" I ask.

As much as I hate the idea of going to the Capitol, it'll be nothing compared to Peeta returning to the Capitol. It was a war zone for me, but it was a prison for him. And although all his tormentors were executed after the war, nothing will change that fact.

"I'm fine, Katniss." He says.

He's clearly not fine. Although his body's steady, he's slightly pale. His eyes are dilating. He's trying to hide his fear. I lean over and kiss his cheek, which takes him off guard, and it almost seems like he's unsure of where he is. But then he leans over and kisses my lips. I kiss back. The warmth and intensity of our kiss soothes me.

I don't know what these kisses mean to me. Although I hate to admit it, even to myself, Peeta loves me, and has for almost 20 years. And I feel something for him, although I don't know what it is exactly. 6 years have passed since the end of the war, and I still don't want to ask. I don't think there's a word to accurately label what I have with Peeta. All I know is that I don't want the kisses to stop.

There's a knock on the door, and we jump. Peeta and I look at each other, and then I get up to answer the door. It takes several seconds for me to figure out who I'm looking at. I don't recognize her with her dark blue off-shoulder shirt with ruffles and black skirt, or her semi-short natural blond hair, or even more surprising, the fact she wears glasses with black frames that nicely shape her face.

"Effie?" I ask, but I'm sure I have the wrong person.

"Hello, Katniss." She says, although she doesn't have her usual perk. In fact, she's somber.

"What happened?" I ask, giving her another once over.

"Capitol trends have vastly changed since your last visit." She says, "I take it you don't watch much television? Chic is in."

"Hello Effie." Peeta says politely behind me.

"Hello Peeta." She gives him a small smile, "You're going to be on camera when you arrive at the Capitol. I don't know what we're going to do about your face."

The old Effie would have treated this as a national crisis. Now she barely looks fazed.

"Why did they send you out here to get us?" I ask, as I bring out the suitcases, and Peeta locks the door behind me.

"They figured you'd need an escort. And a familiar face is always comforting." She explains, opening her arms for a hug. I oblige, but it doesn't have the same warmth it once did. Then she embraces Peeta, who kisses her cheek, a common District 12 gesture.

Peeta takes his suitcase from me. We start walking, but I find myself walking much slower than I usually do. As if walking slower can impede this trip. Peeta and Effie match their pace with mine. We walk toward the launchpad at the end of the Victor's Village, where a small plane is waiting for us. I idly wonder if this slow pace is putting us behind schedule, even if by mere seconds, and if Effie cares at all anymore.

Haymitch is waiting in front of his house for us. When he sees Peeta, he makes a disgruntled expression.

"What happened to you, boy?" He asks.

"A bear attack." Peeta says casually.

Haymitch looks at me, and then back to Peeta. Effie looks at me as well.

"A bear, huh?" Haymitch says, but doesn't comment further.

Haymitch turns and starts walking to the launchpad. We follow him.

"Effie?" I ask.

"Yes, Katniss?" She asks.

"What's this trip for?" I ask.

"I don't know. They didn't tell me." Effie replies.

I don't know if it's because I've been a pawn in someone else's games for too long, or lied to too many times, but for some reason, I don't believe that Effie's telling me the truth.

We reach the launchpad. We give our luggage to some attendants wearing white shirts and black pants. Haymitch gets onto the plane first. Then me. Then Peeta. And finally, Effie. The attendants follow us up.

On this plane, there are a few tables with 4 seats instead of regular seats. Peeta and I take seats across from each other, and then Effie and Haymitch take a table near the front on the other side of the plane, far away from us. I can see them whispering to each other, looking serious, and I feel nauseated.

"They're hiding something from us." Peeta mutters quietly, so we can't be overheard.

So Peeta sensed it too.

"What are we going to do?" I whisper back.

"What can we do but go along with whatever's happening?" He says.

The attendant tells us to put on our seat belts, and we do. Haymitch and Effie are still talking. I glare at them, but if Haymitch can feel my eyes burning into the back of his head, he ignores me. I clench my hand into a fist hard enough to draw blood, and fight the urge to yell at them, to let me and Peeta in on whatever's happening. That we've been lied to enough, and secrets don't keep us safe. In fact, secrets can be very dangerous, and they aren't doing us any favours.

"Just think about the food we'll get to eat in the Capitol." Peeta says, and my attention goes back to him, "It probably won't be as grand as it was before, but it'll still be good."

My mouth waters, thinking about the food.

"Great, Peeta, you're making me hungry." I say.

After the wheels are up in the air, Peeta and I undo our seatbelts when we're allowed to, and get more comfortable in our chairs. There's a deck of cards sitting off to the side, and Peeta opens it and deals us a round. I pick up my cards, and we begin to play. After a few rounds, I get bored, and Peeta asks the attendant if they have paper and pencils. The attendant goes and retrieves a pile of paper, pencils and a pack of coloured pencils. I brush off the attendant's inquiries if I need anything to entertain myself with. I rest my folded arms on the table, and place my head in my arms, watching Peeta begin his sketch. It's hard to tell at this point, but I think he's going to draw a flower.

I glance over at Effie, who looks tired. Examining once again how much her style has changed, I have to wonder. What else has changed in the Capitol? Honestly, until I saw Effie, I never gave it much thought. I never planned to return, so what did it matter what was happening in the Capitol?

I look back at Peeta, carefully yet masterfully finishing the final details of the flower he drew. Then he begins to draw what I can guess is going to be another flower. I watch his hands as they work, and then I look up. He's in such deep concentration.

An image pops into my head. A much younger Peeta, 10 years old maybe. I'm standing in his parents' bakery with my father, and he's behind the counter, carefully icing a beautiful two tiered cake. Our fathers are conducting a trade.

"Here." A voice says warmly, and I tear my eyes away from Peeta's cake. Peeta's father is offering me a baked good. It takes me a second to remember the word for it. Cookie. There's oatmeal in it and some kind of brown morsels in it that I don't recognize. I've never had one. I've heard they were sweet. I look over at my dad apprehensively.

"Go on Katniss, take it." My father encourages.

I reach out and take it from Peeta's father. I smell it, and my mouth instantly waters. It smells like oats, but it also smells sweet and inviting. I take a bite, and it takes everything I have not to shove the rest of it into my mouth. It's soft and warm and just as sweet as it promised. The brown chunks are still melted from the fire, and I've never tasted anything so delicious in my life. I offer it to my father, and he takes a small bite.

"My son, Peeta, made those." His father says.

"Peeta did an amazing job." My dad praises.

Amazing doesn't begin to explain this taste. Peeta blushes from behind the counter.

"Thank you, sir." He says.

"Katniss, we have to get going." My father says.

"Thank you for the cookie." I say.

My words feel inadequate. I don't know enough words to explain how I feel. There's no way my father could have traded the baker for anything worth this cookie. I know the baker's wife isn't nice, and she'd be very mad if she knew the baker gave away a cookie in a trade.

The baker gives me a warm smile.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." He says.

My dad nods and thanks the baker again, and we leave. I really want another bite of the cookie, but if I start now, I may not be able to stop, and I want to share it with Prim and Mom when we get back home.

It wasn't long after that incident that my father died.

My attention is brought back to Peeta when he passes me the image he drew.

"What's this?" I ask.

"You can colour it if you want." He says.

I examine the drawing. It's a flower garden, with tulips, bluebells, and daffodils, and other beautiful flowers that I have no name for. It always amazes me how accurately Peeta can draw from memory.

I take the picture, and place it in front of me. I've never coloured anything in my life. I've only watched Peeta, and I'd hate it if I messed up his beautiful picture. But he's given me this, so I pick up a red coloured pencil from the box, and slowly start colouring a tulip, trying hard to stay inside the lines. I mess up on the third stroke.

"Oops." I say.

He grins.

"Colouring is hard. You'll get it." He says.

I relax a bit and go back to colouring, and he starts sketching another picture.

To my surprise, we are told to put our seatbelts on, as we're making a stop in District 7. This means exactly what I think it does, and I'm rewarded with seeing Johanna enter the plane, followed by an attendant carrying her luggage. She sits next to Peeta.

"Hey Peeta, Katniss." She nods.

"Hello Johanna." Peeta greets.

"Hi." I say.

"Hey Haymitch, Effie." She calls loudly from across the plane.

The other two greet her back, but they barely look up before they resume their conversation.

"What's up with them?" Johanna asks us.

"We don't know." Peeta replies.

"What are you drawing?" She asks, looking over Peeta's shoulder.

I look over at what Peeta's drawing, and then I wish I hadn't.

The drawing looks like a mutation between a reptile and a human being. And that's exactly what it is. A muttation with a human-like torso with a long tail and reptile limbs that can stand on its hind legs. The creatures that hunted us, hissing my name, designed to kill me and whoever else got in their way in the process, in the underground system of the Capitol during the war.

"It's a Capitol mutt." Peeta answers vaguely.

"Ah." Johanna says.

I continue colouring, but my hands are shaking, and I'm going way out of the lines. I put down the coloured pencil, and push the picture to the side. Johanna continues to watch Peeta draw, and I stare out the window, my mind trying to stay out of those underground tunnels. But I can't help but think of everyone we lost in those tunnels. And those mutts turning Peeta mutt. And I hate Peeta's talent for bringing the horrors back to life with his art.

When dinner time arrives, food is brought out on carts. They have the lamb stew with plums on wild rice. I'm hesitant seeing it, and I take a duck dish with greens on the side instead, and a creamy pasta dish. Peeta raises his eyebrow, and he takes the tiny chicken with orange liquid that squirts out with a side salad, and a tomato based soup. Johanna takes the lamb stew, and a plate of various fruit and cheeses. Peeta and I decline the offer of alcohol, but Johanna takes a beer. I start on my duck dish, and Peeta starts with his soup. Johanna takes a bite out of cheese.

"Feels like the old days, doesn't it?" Johanna asks, and gives a nasty laugh.

Yes, yes it does.

After dinner, we put on our seatbelts and descend into District 2. I was right about the Capitol not inviting Annie.

"But what about Beetee?" Peeta asks.

"Beetee's currently in the Capitol doing computer work of some kind." Johanna said, "He pretty much lives in the Capitol now."

"Who lives in District 2 that we could be stopping for?" I ask, and then my heart stops. Gale. Peeta sees the look at panic in my eyes, and he's obviously guessing what I'm thinking because I can see my own pain reflected back from his eyes, although his is more subdued. But then we get our answer.

Enobaria boards the plane with an attendant carrying her luggage, and she takes a seat alone as far away from the rest of us as possible.

"As friendly as ever." Johanna mutters and then calls out, "Hurry up and lift this thing so I can have dessert."

The plane ascends into the air again. When movement is safe again, the dinner tray comes out for Enobaria, and the dessert tray is brought out for the rest of us. Peeta takes an individual sized cherry pie, I take a slice of cheesecake with red syrup drizzled on it and a chocolate chip cookie, and Johanna takes a brownie and a cherry pie as well. We're also served tea or chocolate.

I take a bite out of the cookie, and then I instantly regret it. Although I'm sure it tastes as magnificent as ever, it's like lead in my mouth. Looking at this cookie, and seeing Peeta don't mix well together. Being reminded of a memory that was long-forgotten, even though it was probably the only time I had a cookie in my life before being reaped for the Games. Maybe I forgot about the memory because my dad died so soon after that, and any memory around that time became obsolete.

And my father didn't trade for that cookie. That cookie was a gift. Peeta's father was kind, but that was a very extravagant gift, even for him on his worst trade. But he said Peeta made those cookies. My stomach lurches at the thought. Peeta says he fell in love with me at 5 years old. Did he ask his father to give me that cookie and pay for it somehow?

"Katniss?"

I come back to awareness, and I find myself frozen, holding the cookie, staring at Peeta.

"Katniss?" He asks again, "Hello? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." But my words are mumbled. I didn't swallow the cookie, so it turned to mush in my mouth. I pick up my water, and wash it down. Then I put the cookie on Peeta's plate. Johanna has her eyebrow raised, but neither of them say anything.

"Did you want to play a card game?" Peeta asks me.

No.

"Sure." I say.

Peeta picks up the deck beside him, takes them out of the pack, and begins to shuffle.

I started to owe Peeta Mellark before I even knew it.