A/N: a big thank you to those who reviewed and left suggestions! Now for a bit of back-story. Peeta and Katniss became close friends after the whole burnt bread things, but neither has romantic feelings for the other. ( Nor will either develop any, at any point in this story.)
Disclaimer: I do NOT own THG. If I did, Cato and Peeta would be shirtless the whole movie, and Katniss wouldn't be so stubborn in the books.
Chapter One
Cato
The first time I see her- for real and not on a TV screen- is from a distance. My chariot has already come to a stop, and Clove and I stand watching the other tributes. In my head, I decide which will be the best (temporary) allies, and which will be the most fun to kill. I'm not particularly worried about competition, although the boy from Eleven does seem pretty well built. Even if he is bigger and stronger than me, I still have the upper hand. I've been training for The Games since I was six years old. I'm not impressed by the boy from twelve- he may seem strong, but when it comes to killing, I have no doubt he'll ultimately fail. The girl however… she has this look in her eyes, this fire burning there. This look tells me she'll do whatever it takes to reach her goal, which in this case is survive. She stands tall, thin, but muscular. She's not bad looking either.
When their costumes alight, I merely raise an eyebrow. Clove, however, jabs me in the side with her pointy elbow. "Look at them! Blowing kisses to the crowd…and, oh god! They're holding hands!" I roll my eyes at her antics. It appears I was the only one who had seen her swat Fire boy's hand away before tensing and letting him hold her hand, just barely. Well, now I can use that little bit of information against them, if they try and turn it into some doomed lovers angle. I guess I'll keep observing them, because she could pose a threat to my imminent success. I grit my teeth when the crowd begins cheering their names, their actual names, because that means they care enough to find out. And if they care enough, they'll sponsor you, and sponsors can be the difference between life and death in The Games.
As they enter the City Circle, I see the girl trying to pull away from Fire boy, but he whispers something in her ear that makes her relax a bit. President Snow comes out to begin his long, boring speech and to play the anthem. But as the Circle darkens, I find it harder and harder to tear my eyes from the glow of their costumes. It's not until the chariot move again that I realize I've spent the whole time staring at them, more specifically staring at her. The girl on fire.
[.] [.] [.]
Katniss
I'm so glad that the debacle that was the tribute presentation is over. I'm also furious at the stunt Peeta pulled. As we step off the chariot, we are engulfed by our stylists, Haymitch, and Effie. Portia rushes up to us and hugs us both. "Peeta, I'm so glad you caught my hand signals! Presenting tributes as a united front is not often done, and that combined with your marvelous costumes will have you the conversation of the Capitol!" Oh. So that's why Peeta was holding my hand…makes sense I guess. It'll either make or break us; seen as an unusual presenting, or seen as an act of rebellious defiance towards the Capitol. Cinna and Octavia herd me into my prep room and help me out of my body suit. They give me simple grey lounge pants and a black tank top to change into. My feet ache from the boots I wore, so I decide to walk barefoot back to my room.
Half a dozen others wait in front of the elevators. On a second look, I see it is mostly Careers and their mentors. Both the enormous boy from Two and his female counter part are speaking with their mentor, the girl from One and the boy from Four are flirting as his mentor looks on disapprovingly. I stand of to the side a bit, and once the elevator comes we all squeeze in. I am smushed between the boy from Two and the girl from One. They both easily outweigh me by fifty pounds, and are much taller, but I try to shrug this off because I am still well muscled for a person my size. I, of course am the last one off, and I step into mine and Peeta's apartment, all of the lights are off, but the TV plays a recap of tonight's presentation. Haymitch is asleep (or unconscious, hard to tell which) on the couch, and the remote has fallen to the floor beside him. I tiptoe over and shut off the television, and throw a blanket over Haymitch. Yawning, I make my way to my room, where I fall asleep on top of my covers.
[.] [.] [.]
I am woken by Effie standing over me trilling about what a "Big, big day it is!" I stretch and roll out of bed so that I can take a shower. Of course, I come out twenty minutes later with nearly burnt skin and smelling like peaches and cream. I vow to myself to get the hang of these damn Capitol showers before I leave. I dress in the clothes Effie left, maroon shorts and a black t-shirt, both made of some of the softest material I have ever felt. White athletic shoes sit on a chair by the door and I pull them on and lace them before going out to face the others for breakfast. Effie, Peeta, and Haymitch are all seated around the large table eating. When I sit down, Haymitch grunts hello and Peeta shoots me a smile from across the table. We eat in silence, and when we are finished, Haymitch begins to brief us for the training session today. "So, let's get down to business. Training. First off, if you like, ill train you separately. Decide now."
"Why would you coach us separately?" I ask. "Say you had a secret skill you might not want the other to know about," says Haymitch. "Well, it's fine with me if it's fine with you," I offer to Peeta. He nods in agreement before replying, "We don't really have any secret skills. I mean, I've eaten Katniss' squirrels, and she's seen me lift hundred pound bags of flour in the market." I shrug and Haymitch almost smiles. "All right then, lets head down to the Training Center." When Peeta stands up I nearly groan. We are not dressed identically, but our training outfits definitely match. He is wearing a black t- shirt and maroon shorts that are a male version of mine. His shoes, though black, are the exact same design as mine. Perhaps it is tradition to dress tributes from the same districts alike. Effie wanders off to do her own thing while Haymitch leads us down to the Training Center. Though it is just barely ten o'clock, we are the last to arrive. The rest are waiting around for the trainers to arrive and warming up. Haymitch waves goodbye and reminds us not to show our strengths just yet.
At exactly 10:02 trainers and demonstrators spill into the room. The head trainer named Atala, reads a list of skill stations and then a list of exercises we can take part in. there's everything from rope tying to spear throwing. I can tell Peeta is eyeing the camouflage station, but I personally can't wait to try hand to hand combat. It's definitely a skill I need to improve. Atala finishes her introduction, and everyone splits off to do their own thing. I march straight over to the mat set aside for hand to hand combat and join the group there. The trainer pairs us off, and I get stuck with the large boy form Two, who I learn is named Cato. He comes off as arrogant, ruthless, and extremely cocky. We are slated to fight last, so I wander off to the rope tying station to improve my basic snares.
At some point Peeta joins me, as does the small girl tribute from Eleven. She has dark skin and eyes, but she is so similar to Prim in size and mannerism that I bite my lip to keep from tearing up. While work on a snare that could potentially hoist competitors into the air by the leg, Peeta leans over and whispers in my ear. "Her name is Rue." Rue, like the flower that grows in the Meadow back in Twelve. Rue and Prim, both delicate little flowers that were subjected to the cruelty of randomness. The only difference is my flower had some one to save her. "She seems to like you," he continues, "maybe she could be a good ally?" I nod. "We'll see what she can do." I hear my name called from over by the training mats. The combat instructor is waving his hands about looking for me. I hurry over to join them and notice almost every one else has left for the day, and that's a good thing, because I think I'm about to make a fool of myself. I step onto the mat, and Cato follows my lead. "Shake hands" the trainer instructs. We do, and his grip is vice like. "On my count, begin. One, two…three!"
Before I can even step forward, Cato lunges. Within seconds, he's got me pinned to the rubber training mat. He's panting, and victory shines in his eyes. I'm about to show him how overconfident he is. I pretend to struggle for a moment, and he chuckles darkly. Poor boy, he thinks he's won. I arch my back and suggestively shimmy my hips under his, and his eyes go wide for a moment. He quickly recovers, and his stare turns feral while a smirk begins to form across his lips. He grinds his hips back into mine, and I immediately take advantage of his distraction. I roll, taking his weight with me, so that I am now straddling his chest, my sneakers pinning his arms to the ground. Cato narrows his eyes and tries to buck me off to no avail. Grinning, I lean down and whisper in his ear," I win," before pushing myself off of him, making sure to push the air out of his lungs as I go. "Good match," says the trainer halfheartedly before leaving to join everyone else.
To my surprise, the number of tributes remaining in the training center has shrunk even more. Only the girl from One remains, and the boy from four. They're over with the dummies, slicing and stabbing and beheading. Neither bothers to glance my way as I head towards the elevators. I step inside the glass box, thankful that they move quickly and the ride will take no it time at all. Just as the doors are sliding closed, Cato slips inside. I grimace and shift away from him. We both reach to push the buttons for our floors at the same time, and his fingers brush against mine, which is confusing since he's floor two and I'm twelve. I look again and see that he has pressed the button that takes you straight to the roof tops. I wonder why? Cato clears his throat and I glance over at him. That damn smirk is still stretched across his face.
"That was an interesting technique back there…the distraction and all. We should get together and practice, say… my room, tonight?" He grins devilishly and raises his eyebrows. I laugh in his face and sneer. "You wish!" there, that ought to show him just how not interested I am. "Feisty are you? You're lucky I like that. It's too bad that I'll be killing you in the arena, Fire girl." I clench my teeth and mutter, "I highly doubt you'll be the one killing me." Cato raises an eyebrow. "Oh, really, Twelve? Then be prepared to be wrong. You'll be mine in the end. I'm saving you for last, you and Fire boy. Maybe I'll even let you watch while I kill him? Would you like that? I know the Capitol will just love it." I gulp nervously. It's like he knows exactly how to get inside my head, knows what makes me tic. "Oh, and I know you and Lover boy aren't really as united as you'd like everyone to think. I saw you pull away from him on that chariot." I frown. "We are united. We are going to be allies. And one of us will win." I sound like I'm trying to convince myself more than anything.
"You're a horrible liar, little diamond." He smiles wider, as if he knows he's gotten under my skin. The elevator dings and the doors whoosh open. As I hurry away, Cato shouts, "you'll be mine, and don't forget it. Upon hearing his words I stumble a bit, the edge of the apartment door digs into my hip, where I have bruises from being slammed to the ground. I shake my head as if to rid it of all Cato – related thoughts, and fumble my way through the darkness to my bedroom. I change into pajamas and crawl into bed, but somehow I can't shake the feeling that I won't be able to sleep tonight, no matter how hard I try.
[.] [.] [.]
I was right, I can't sleep. My mind just won't shut up. I glance over at the digital clock on my might stand. It's bright red lights read 4:30. I sigh heavily and roll out of bed. I shrug on a soft black sweater over my grey tank top and black shorts, but don't button it. I think I'll go up to the roof, get some fresh air. Cato must have left by now. I cross my room and open the door as quietly as possible. After a quick glance around to make sure no one is in the living room, I dash to the elevator. I push the button above the already lit twelve and sigh in relief. I didn't get caught leaving the apartment! This thought makes me smile a bit. The elevator ride lasts all of twenty seconds, and then I am stepping into the cool fresh air. The roof is not lit at night, but as soon as my bare feet hit its tiled surface I see his silhouette, black against the lights that endlessly shine in the Capitol.
There's quite a commotion going on down in the streets, music and singing and car horns, none of which I could hear through the thick glass window panels in my room. I could slip away now without him noticing me; he wouldn't hear me over the din. But the night air's so sweet, I can't bear returning to that stuffy cage of a room. My feet move soundlessly across the tiles. I'm only a yard behind him when I say, "you should be getting some sleep." He starts but doesn't turn, I can see him give his head a slight shake. "I didn't want to miss the party. It is for us, after all." I come up beside him and lean over the rail. We are both silent for a moment before he addresses me. "Come to take me up on my offer?" Cato smirks and turns to face me. " As if!" I bite back but keep my gaze on the skyline, lest he see the blush creeping its way onto my cheeks. "Actually, I couldn't sleep. I keep thinking about the interviews, training… the arena. The arena is what troubles me most. Will it be a barren desert or a frozen tundra? What sort of weapons will they provide?" I can feel his stare on as I ramble on. "I know what you mean" Cato, actually being serious? It couldn't be. "It's hard to decide who to kill first." And there it is, the Cato every one knows and despises. His twisted smirk grows at my look of disgust. He scoots closer to me, so that our arms are touching.
"You must be freezing up here; you've got next to no clothes on. I'll warm you up if you like." He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and I shove him away with a snort. I guess I've underestimated my own strength, because Cato stumbles back and falls, hitting his head or the rails as he falls. "You little bitch," he snarls. His cheeks are red with anger and his nostrils flare. He scrambles up and grabs both of my arms, pinning me between the rails and his body, I never really noticed just how utterly huge he really is. "You'll pay for that." He raises his hand to strike me, and I swiftly bring me knee up into his groin. He grunts heavily, and I slip under his arms and make a run for the elevators. Two large arms lock around my waist before I'm halfway there. Cato roughly spins me around, arms still wrapped around me. I try to push him off, but even though I'm strong, he's twice my size and much, much stronger. Frantically, I try pushing him away, but he simply readjusts his arms so that they pin my own to my sides. Our eyes meet, but I look away quickly; I can see the fury burning in his. He leans down, but I never find out what he intended to do, because I look up at the same time. Our lips sort of bump in a kind-of-maybe-almost kiss. Even though it probably doesn't count as a kiss, my face flushes with embarrassment. Cato's grip starts to loosen, and just when I think he's finally going to let go, he ducks his head again and kisses me. For real this time. An actual, on purpose kiss. I surprise my self by kissing him back.
A moment later my senses return to me, and I pull away. "No one finds out about this," I say tersely. "Agreed," he growls before releasing me. I rub at my sides where they ache from his arms. "Did I hurt you?" he asks, his voice a bit less furious. I pull up the side of my tank top and examine my torso. Thankfully, only one small bruise is forming, on the left side of my ribcage. Almost hesitantly, Cato reaches up and traces the darkened spot of skin. I shiver, both from his touch and the night air. "I'm sorry. Sometimes I get a little carried away, especially when I get… pissed off." I pull my shirt down and step back a little. He switches from furious to calm so fast it makes my head spin. "I've got to go," I blurt before bolting to the elevator. I can feel him staring at me, even though I make a point not to make eye contact as I the doors close.
[.][.][.]
Cato
This isn't supposed to happen. I'm not supposed to have feelings, because I'm a monster, a cold, cruel killing machine - and that's all I will ever be… right?
A/N: I wasn't too sure about the ending myself, but I hope you all enjoyed! Thank you all so much for the reviews and favorites, my inbox was so full when I finally checked it this morning .