Disclaimer: Nope, just a fanfiction writer. I would be richer, if I did.
Story: Haymitch forces them to party and Katniss ends up drunk. She ends up pregnant and still in the games. Unlikely alliances and crazy sponsors. It's crack!drama.
Set AU at the first book, "The Hunger Games."
Spoilers: Just the first book at first and then maybe the next two books.
Warnings: Cursing and violence for now…hm, just in case since I'm usually writing it, bit of crazy humor, perverted humor, morbid or sarcastic humor, and maybe some sexual situations…
Pairings: Seneca/Katniss, one-sided Gale/Katniss, one-sided Peeta/Katniss, Glimmer/Peeta, Cato/?, Gale/Clove

Warning: M for a reason. Watch this chapter.

The Taste of Nightlock on Your Lips
Chapter Two: Close Your Eyes and Miss the Sun

She made it to the elevators without any hassle, missing anyone who could have crossed her path, and quickly went up the elevator she was in to her floor without trouble. Her quiet countenance was thankfully not questioned that way.

At her floor, she walked in to her suite and found a strange sight. Peeta was groaning, sprawled all over the couch while Effie fussed over him and Haymitch was chuckling to himself as he sat comfortably on the armchair next to the male tribute's head.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked dully.

The two adults' heads snapped up and stared straight at her, with Effie's jaw working and saying nothing and Haymitch staring at her in disbelief.

"You're…you're not in your room?" Effie finally said weakly.

Katniss shuffled uncomfortably. "No…why?"

"But…we thought…you didn't get back last night?" the woman was nearly in shock at that point.

Katniss almost didn't answer, but decided to take pity on the other female and shook her head no.

"Where were you then? And why did you only get back now? It's early alright, but that you get back now instead of last night or at a dead hour when no one's awake…" Haymitch spoke this time, ignoring another moan Peeta let out. "And he's got a hangover. Too much partying and drinks last night, the lucky kid."

"I had too much as well," she spoke stoically, not paying attention to the weird squawk that came out of Effie at the admission, focused on staring straight at Haymitch. "Someone let me stay over the night."

"I-Impropriety! Oh, the-the inappropriateness! It's all indecent!" Effie screamed shrilly, causing Peeta to moan even louder and clutch his head at her racket.

"And I only got back because I slept in and was too comfortable to rush back. We still have at least two hours before the first day of training begins," she pointed out carelessly, not willing to show how tired she was, how upset she still kind of was from the separation with Seneca, and how much she just wanted to avoid their questioning or how much it really was making her uneasy.

Haymitch took a long sip from his glass of amber liquid, not moving his gaze from her. And then he spoke, making her instantly feel defensive, though she made sure not to show it.

"Had lots of fun last night, huh. Enjoyed yourself?"

Well, she's already been inferring and it's going to be assumed even without her saying so…she might as well acknowledge it and show no shame.

"Immensely," she said, making sure her voice was steady and revealed nothing.

Haymitch guffawed, confusing Effie and making poor Peeta start in on another round of moaning.

And though she hadn't said what had happened outright and though she wasn't vocal in her in smugness, she allowed herself to gloat through her eyes and direct it at him through them.

"Well damn, sweetheart. Guess I was wrong about you."

She nodded sharply, hiding the brief grin, though she was sure the alcoholic still managed to catch it.

"Please excuse me, I think I'd like to take a nap before having to get ready for training," she excused herself before leaving.

She missed Haymitch's amused grin turn uneasy.

That shirt looked oddly familiar.

In her room, Katniss found her bed and collapsed on it, closing her eyes immediately after. A flash of blue eyes went through her mind and she brushed her fingertips across her lips in remembrance. She sighed in aggravation as she sat up, glaring at her wall. She needed to focus on the day ahead, not be in a daze about a man she was probably never going to see again.

If anything, at the least there would be glimpses of each other as it was known he worked in the same building…but she was a tribute and he probably wasn't working closely with the tributes or the training facility. There would be no reason for them to be able to see each other again, nor interact in any way.

She had a long and big day ahead –that was what she needed to remember and focus on.

Katniss barely got that nap in, deciding to just forget it and change into her training uniform. She spent most of the rest of the time pacing in agitation in her room, before she descended out and waited out there, seeing Peeta looking much better than when she'd gotten in. He must have gotten that hangover cure. Haymitch and Effie were nowhere to be seen.

"How's your head?" she asked quietly, in consideration of his head and not sure if he was totally alright now.

He gave her a weak smile. "Better. The herbal tea and the headache pill are helping a lot."

She furrowed her eyebrows. Seneca had given her some kind of liquid that got rid of the headache and other after affects of the drinking binge.

"Didn't they give you that hangover cure or something?"

He shook his head lightly. "Nah. You're talking about the special liquid hit they sell here in the Capitol, right? Haymitch told me about it. Told me it was expensive as hell and that it was damn useful."

Katniss felt awkward about that, but dismissed the feeling as she sat down next to Peeta.

"Why? How'd you know about it?"

This time, Katniss briefly allowed her awkwardness to show before shrugging it off and forcing an explanation to come out of her, just to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal.

"Person I was staying overnight with gave me some this morning," she explained.

Peeta whistled appreciatively. "Nice. Lucky you. Wish I'd gotten some. I hear it works like a miracle."

"Yeah…"

He smiled gently, interpreting some of her current worry. "Hey, no worries. I'm glad you were able to have fun for a night. I get it."

'Course, she knew he probably didn't know just exactly what she did last night, or just who she'd been with. She wasn't being very helpful being vague and all…

She gave a half-shrug and smiled unenthusiastically back at him.

In no time at all, it was time to go down to the training room. Haymitch gave last minute advice, warning them to not use their skills just yet, and keep it a surprise until it was time for the private evaluations. Then it was just her and Peeta again and they made into the training room, walking to the other tributes and gathering around, waiting for the head trainer to start speaking. She looked up from the floor disinterestedly, deciding to scan the room, when her eyes ran across the private balcony hosting the Gamemakers watching them.

She froze, recognizing the parted and combed back raven hair and the icy blue eyes that had haunted her since leaving them behind.

Seneca was dressed in his usual outfit, talking calmly to another Gamemaker while a calm and slightly amused smile played across his lips.

Atala, the head trainer, brought everyone to attention, including the Gamemakers. She saw his reaction before he could monitor it. His body tensed up from its relaxed position and his elegant fingers tightened around the wine glass he held in his hand. His eyes dilated briefly before returning to normal, just as his face paled.

It was actually unnoticeable to everyone, but she spent a night and a morning underneath the man and going under his ministrations –she was pretty sure she at least knew his body reactions well enough.

Before Atala started lecturing them about their training, she started to introduce the Gamemakers watching them, ending with Seneca. Seneca Crane.

Oh. Oh. She not only slept with a Gamemaker, but she slept with the Head Gamemaker.

Life really liked to screw her over. And there was no pun in that.

Trying to hide her shaking, she looked away from his intense and unblinking gaze; feeling like his icy blue eyes would freeze her over. There was never a time until then that she wished her Girl on Fire title enabled her to have real flames.

Atala spoke and told them to focus on the survival skills, telling them that most of them would die from natural causes rather than a fight. After that, they were sent off to start their training and she tried to avoid his eyes, looking instead at all the different stations. She'd start out small…maybe the knot station.

She was determined to not look his way or meet his eyes.

She was, after awhile, joined by the creepy District 2 female tribute. Trying to ignore the shorter girl, she remained focused on her knot. That is, until the girl started talking to her.

"Name's Clove," she said arrogantly.

Katniss hmmed in reply, wondering whether or not to ignore her or at least humor the girl. It was obvious she was sort of touched in the head though…

"Katniss," she reluctantly introduced herself.

If anything, this could be practice for her non-existent social skills.

"You're the District 12 volunteer," Clove went on. "Impressive. No one volunteers from the outer districts. Guts and honor, girl."

"Why are you here?" Katniss asked bluntly.

The other girl looked strangely amused at her frankness. "We'll be here for awhile. I'll be utterly bored in that time without anyone to talk to. Sure, there's Cato…and the mentors…and the escort…but there's only so much of Cato a girl can take, you know? And the mentors of District 2 are socially retarded and prefer to avoid us when it's not time to advise or train us. And the escort is plain annoying and I'd rather chop her head off."

Katniss twitched.

"I've already been around to see the other girls. Everyone else is boring, the little girl from 11 makes me cringe 'cause I'm not a babysitter and I don't do well with kids –hell, her being here makes me cringe at the games, and I don't want to do that because I've been looking forward to spilling some blood and gore, you know? –and I can't stand the District 1 bimbo. She's totally an airhead."

Katniss was starting to debate about moving on to another station, and leave the obviously unstable girl to talk to herself.

"But you got some spunk," Clove started to finish. "So I'm going to stick to you until game time, so I'm not driven insane by boredom and inane stupidity around here. You're actually a real firecracker and strong-willed –gotta admire that in a girl –and you won't take bull or you actually know how to fight and act like a fighter, unlike some other girls here. Plus, I'm staking out the competition."

Katniss looked down at the station and nearly sweatdropped. There was an assortment of tangle of knots that Clove was still continuing to make a mess of, and that she suspected had been made while the girl was making her speech.

"That's nice," Katniss deadpanned and then turned to leave, deciding to head to the fire-making station.

"Where are you going?"

"To try the fire-making station."

"Ah hah, you really are a pyromaniac then?"

She sighed and decided to put up with the other girl, if mostly to moderate the girl's persistence and presence around her.

It was mostly uneventful after that, though she'd started to go to each station and quietly observed the other competitors (Clove eerily stalking close beside her as she was doing so). There was one other event that was worth noting, mostly for pure entertainment, in which Clove's partner freaked out on another tribute about stealing his knife (an anger problem; something worth for her to look into and might be able to take advantage of). The little girl from District 11 was responsible, and Katniss quietly shared a grin at the moment.

At lunchtime, Katniss didn't feel up to eating. As much as she tried to focus on the stations, and she was very determined in that, she just couldn't stop thinking about Seneca or the fact that the feeling of his eyes determinedly boring into her all morning was doing nothing for her nerves. Finding a secluded and private alcove outside, she tucked herself in and pulled her knees up as she sat curled up on the bench unhappily.

"You didn't grab any food," a familiar and unwanted voice said to her.

She inwardly sighed and looked up straight into intimately familiar blue eyes.

"I wasn't really too hungry," she told him.

Seneca Crane stood in front of her and looked like he meant business.

There went her hopes of avoiding him.

He'd sat there staring at her for a full minute, slowly rubbing his temple with a finger as he processed her presence. He'd set aside his glass of wine as he observed her, wondering how in the hell had he not recognized her.

He'd slept with a tribute. And not just any tribute.

District 12's volunteer.

The first time he'd seen her, he was captivated. Her absolute willingness and determination to volunteer in place of her terrified sister had earned his attention, and even reluctantly his admiration. Her spirit, however, was what had completely won him over.

He'd been looking forward to her entrance into the Capitol and to see what she was like in person. He had, of course, ignored the mental commentary in his head that whispered in amusement that this girl was exactly his type –someone he would be attracted to in appearance and personality. He brushed off those thoughts with merely a cool shake of his head, refusing to let such idle thoughts get in the way of his work. Still…

Glimmer of District 1 was pretty and a classic looker, but Katniss Everdeen was simply on a whole other level to him.

She was…unique. Her beauty was different in that her looks offered a more mysterious and yet also cold and fiery (what an oxymoron) air. The classic beauty was always a winner, but when up against someone like Katniss whose features were unforgettable and different from the norm, it was hard to compete. Even her slightly starved look (and she looked much more fit and stronger than he'd expected a Seam girl to look) added character and showed physical proof of her endurance and hard work in life, making him admire her just a little more. And then when her personality shone in her looks, that added a whole new dimension to her beauty. Especially with such a stormy countenance, when her eyes would flare up or her long dark locks would be tossed back when she would huff in indignation or even pure anger.

Those were things he'd noticed from the moment he'd laid eyes on her to the private time they'd spent together in his penthouse.

Of course, that last bit was something he had only been able to observe now, during training, because his other observations that morning and the night before had been of a more intimate and physical nature.

And so, when the Tribute Parade came, he had not been prepared for her transformation. She was gorgeous and captivating, especially with flames engulfing her and adding a dangerous flare to her looks. Her signature braid wasn't there, but her hair was still braided and put up in loops. The slight makeup she wore was fitting as she was pretty without it, though he still would swear it was odd and unneeded to see her painted up at all.

To meet her at the City Circle party that night was just unthinkable.

He still couldn't understand how he'd failed to see her for who she was, especially after her huge debut to the Capitol from the Reaping to the parade.

Tributes had never gone out to join the parties before. There was a silent agreement (even if not an actual written rule) that the mentors would keep them in the suite until training time and keep them under watch. Then again, considering who was the District 12 mentor…

And she looked different. She was done up, more than her appearance at her Reaping but less than the parade. She had a pretty dress that was completely different from the dress she wore at the Reaping and lighter than the parade outfit, and something he had never thought for her to wear. She wore no makeup like her Reaping appearance, but her face was cleaner than then.

But most of all was her strange shy demeanor.

After being so used to seeing her determined and fiery self, to see her actually being so shy and even socially awkward was just…adorable. And completely different to what he had been familiar with when it came to her.

Perhaps a combination of her looks, the supposed to be certainty that she wasn't supposed to be there, and the completely opposite behavior had helped to throw him off, but he would think that he would have been able to recall who she was after the more time he spent with her.

Katniss wasn't a usual name in the Capitol, and he was hard pressed to find someone at the party there who would have had her name. But neither she nor he gave their last names, and it was always a plausible, if slim, chance.

And he knew he had definitely not been drunk. He'd hardly had any to drink at the party and was more than sober enough to have his bearings about him and have his faculties perfectly fine.

The truth was, after he'd been thrown off, he'd been too busy enjoying her and her company, all through the night and to the morning, that he had never given any real thought to the comparisons or to who she might really be. In fact, deep down he'd actually been rather pleased at the resemblance and "coincidental" likeness to a girl he'd silently admit he wanted and coveted from the first time he'd laid eyes on her and yet knew he could not (and was not allowed) to have.

It had been pure arrogance and foolhardy assumptions that had blinded him from the truth. That and willful ignorance.

And then when she'd left him that morning, with him choosing to not immediately come after her and allow her some space, when he still hadn't a real clue who she was, her words had repeated through his head like a broken record. And the more he heard them, the more he wanted to prove her wrong. He hadn't understood why she had thought that way and had decided he would pursue her anyway, and do anything to change her mind. He'd obsessed over her and the situation all morning, scheming up ways to win her over.

Now she was quietly going about her way, avoiding looking at him. Well, he was unable to avoid staring at her.

At the knot station, the District 2 female joined her and he watched Katniss awkwardly stick by and force herself to stay and listen to the other girl. He could see, even before she did, the resignation Katniss put herself through in putting up with the girl, and he hid his grin behind his hand before wiping it off quickly. When Katniss went through the other stations in a muted fashion, the District 2 female followed closely.

He couldn't help smiling at her restrained amusement at the altercation with the District 2 male, and the adorable District 11 girl's involvement in it.

Just before it was time to break for lunch, he excused himself and went to the bathroom. His hands shook as he splashed water on his face, and when he looked up into the mirror the last remnants of shock and disquiet from the news were fading away. He composed himself and crafted a lofty look, trying to come as close to normal as he could. Then he went out just in time for the lunch break, to catch Katniss slipping outside unnoticeably.

He followed after her.

When he found her, she was hidden to herself in some small alcove, looking unhappy as she curled in on herself. He hesitated, knowing he would be intruding, but also knowing that he couldn't just walk away now.

"You didn't grab any food," he spoke out, keeping his voice level.

He could see her force herself to look up.

"I wasn't really too hungry," she told him, voice tired.

He sat down next to her, ignoring her minute flinch, and looked out into the field of grass before them.

"So…does this count as favoritism?" she weakly joked, referring to their time together.

He couldn't help turning to her and caressing her cheek gently. She moved back though.

"You shouldn't be touching me," she muttered.

"I shouldn't?" he murmured, and then he was leaning forward and attacking her mouth with a vigor, kissing her until she started to kiss back.

They separated when they finally needed air, but they didn't look away from each other.

"So what's your excuse?"

And somehow she knew what he was talking about without a need for elaboration.

"District 12 doesn't broadcast interviews, aside from the Tribute Interviews. I knew your name, but not what you look like," she shrugged. "And I've never been to the Capitol, so I don't know how it works around here or how it's like. Who's to say you're the only one named Seneca? For all I know, there were a ton of men running around with the name. You?"

He painstakingly told her his thoughts on the matter, leaving nothing out (which left her slightly flustered but unwilling to show it), and that basically he had no really good excuse when it came down to it.

And when it was done and said, he leaned back towards her and captured her lips, cupping the back of her head and holding her there so she couldn't escape again. After thoroughly ravishing her mouth, he pulled back and stared at her, waiting for her to say something.

"You shouldn't have done that. Now my hair's all messed up," was what surprisingly came out of her mouth.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I didn't think you were the type to worry about your hair."

She scoffed. "I'm not. My going around with my hair all messed up now is going to bring up questions, that's what."

He hmmed nonchalantly, plucking a few leaves from around them and planting them into her hair, bemusing her.

"There," he started wryly. "You went frolicking about outside in the grass, messing up your hair."

And then Seneca kissed her again, before she could make a retort or refuse him.

Damn, that man was good at it; mind-numbingly so that she didn't even realize the warning bell had wrung until he'd pulled back again and told her so.

He hid his brief look of pride, because of the obvious effect he'd left on her.

"Right," she was eager to get as far away from him as she could. He was just…dangerous to her focus and her chances of survival. And a total distraction.

She had to win this and go home. To Prim.

Reaffirming her determination, she got up and started to walk away. She was very conscious of him getting up as well and following close to her, so she just quickened her steps. Once she reentered the building, she thought she could leave him and be home free, when Peeta's voice rang out and stopped them both.

Seneca was at once minutely annoyed and yet more disappointed, however this newcomer was hardly going to be much of a difference in how he was going to approach her.

"Katniss!"

She stopped and waited for Peeta to reach her, very aware of Seneca's presence beside her and that he'd moved close enough to brush his fingers lightly against her neck teasingly and not be seen.

"Oh, uh, Head Gamemaker Crane," Peeta awkwardly greeted him and Seneca just smiled perfunctory.

"No need to tack on the title, Mr. Mellark."

"O-okay, Mr. Crane. Um, I hope Katniss isn't in trouble…?" he looked questioningly between the two.

Katniss was about to make some discomfited lie, but Seneca smoothly intervened.

"Not at all," he smiled charmingly at the younger male. "The warning bell was about to ring when I was getting back, and I noticed your friend still outside. I merely informed her of that fact before graciously escorting her back. In fact, she was kind enough to trade her apple for my…sausage. The juices were absolutely delicious," he ended with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Katniss blinked, scrunching up her eyebrows in confusion before it clicked and her face flamed red. She glanced at him reproachfully, but he merely continued to smile "obliviously."

He wanted to play that game, huh? Well, she could play it too.

"The sausage was even better. I didn't expect it to be so…creamy," she refrained from smugly smirking, but only just barely.

Seneca gave a polite cough.

"Yes, but I must commend the apple's soft, moist texture. It practically melted under my hand."

"Perhaps, but I couldn't believe the sausage could be so tender and yet also hard."

Peeta interrupted, face clearly confused. "That's great and all, but I think we're close to being late. We wouldn't want to be late for you and the others, Mr. Crane. The two of us hope to make a good show of District 12," the last part came out sounding something rehearsed and all formal, and Katniss had to hide her grin at Peeta's subtle jab to the Capitol.

It was that or remember that she'd just held a conversation full of sexual innuendo with the Head Gamemaker right in front of him.

"I see. Well, I agree. However, I still need another minute with Miss Everdeen, Mr. Mellark. Why don't you head on ahead?"

Peeta nodded hesitantly, glancing back at her in question. She nodded an okay to him and he left, leaving her alone with Seneca again.

His hand reached up and toyed with a loose lock of her hair and she had to force herself to stand her ground, or else flinch back again.

"May I see you tonight?" he murmured, gazing at her with unreadable eyes.

Wait, what?

'No, are you crazy? Why on earth would you?' was what she wanted to say. Instead, she blurted out an "Okay."

Of all the times for her to do a word vomit, this time the rude word vomit is the one that actually gets dismissed, right when she really needed it.

She bit her lip, visibly struggling with herself, before she conceded and he quietly breathed a sigh relief, especially when it was revealed what she'd been fighting herself on.

"I'll leave some kind of sign on my door, so you know which room is mine," she was almost inaudible. "Try for close to 12, won't you? I'll see you tonight."

And she flitted away, out of his reach, before he could steal another kiss.

In Greek mythology, there was a priestess of Aphrodite named Hero who stayed in a tower on the edge of Hellespont. Leander was a young man who lived on the other side of the strait. They fell in love and he swam Hellespont every night to be with her, and she would light a lamp on the top of her tower to guide his way.

And so she was tentatively tying a golden scarf, the color of light, around her doorknob, once everyone was asleep and it was nearing twelve.

She took a shuddering breath and stepped away from it, before she hurried inside her room and closed her door. She tugged at the collar of his silk shirt, a memento of the night before, and something she felt comfortable wearing and had been thinking of using to sleep in from now on. Pausing in her thinking, she sat down at her windowsill with the dress shirt riding up on her bare legs, gazing outside and down at the City Circle, where bright lights and loud laughter rang out.

Was it just last night she had been there and was with those same people?

'Why? Why am I stressing out more about sleeping with him now, when I hadn't last night?'

Was it because she knew who he really was and who they were to each other?

Her mind wandered back to the golden scarf and was glad it had been there so she didn't have to grab the scarlet one. Scarlet was one of his colors and she really didn't want to look like she was saying something. That and wasn't using a red scarf some kind of prostitution thing?

Well, and the red lantern thing outside the door, which the scarf was doing too well a job being like without being red as well.

She was really not going to dwell on that, else she start wondering why she was doing this again. But too late, her mind was already going back to those thoughts.

He was Head Gamemaker. She was a tribute. What was he thinking? What were they thinking? They really shouldn't be doing this and she couldn't understand why they were…or why he wanted to.

She was from District 12, and the Seam at that. Glimmer was prettier than her and Katniss knew her personality was horrible. She's told Cinna plenty of times, and Haymitch totally agreed on this, that she was horrible with people and being social and that she was unlikable. And he was a Capitol citizen, high up in society as well. He was used to refinery and the best the world had to offer.

What had he to gain, to like from someone like her?

Never mind the fact, that as a tribute, she was likely to die in the games? Why would he risk an attachment, if that was what if it was at all (even if minimal), to her when there was a chance of that happening and he could briefly be sad?

And wasn't that the truth. He was Head Gamemaker. That was what it all boiled down to. Her life was in his hands, and he would be pulling the strings that had her life hanging in the midst of. This man was responsible for her fate.

She had been so lost in her thoughts, gazing solemnly out her window and had even started to wonder if he was really coming, that she hadn't noticed Seneca open the door and slip inside. Not until familiar arms wrapped around her waist and he nuzzled her neck, had she any idea that he'd finally arrived.

"Why?" slipped out of her lips softly.

He was silent, contemplating his answer as he realized what she was asking.

"Because once you get a taste, you want more," he said simply.

"That's gluttony."

"I don't exactly want to eat you. Well, literally," he faintly smirked, but she was serious and so was he, and his smirk disappeared.

"Then it's lust," she murmured.

He lifted her up from behind, and then adjusted her into a bridal hold as he carried her to her bed, sitting her on the edge of it.

"You're thinking too much," he caressed her face, and she had the feeling it was quickly becoming a favorite thing to do for him.

"Is that bad?" she tilted her head and her unbraided hair fell into her face.

He took a moment to admire the image, a rare and almost vulnerable look on her.

"When you're too busy thinking that you stand still, and when you forget to live life and enjoy yourself every once and awhile…Yes."

Because the answers to their questions were too complicated to be answered simply in words and they themselves were too complex to try to be understood so easily in that way.

He pushed her back and slowly pushed her shirt up, pleased to see her wearing it and aroused at the sight of it on her in the first place. He briefly allowed his fingers to skim her taut stomach, looking up after to see her looking at him with gray eyes that shone with both want and curiosity.

"Don't think," he told her gently. "Don't think. Feel. Live.

"Tonight is about you. I'm going to focus on you and only you," he said firmly, taking her questing fingers away from his collar and clasping it together with his hand on the bed. "I want you to stop thinking and focus in return on just feeling. Tonight, let me just appreciate you."

And then he was back on her, and each stroke of his tongue left a blazing trail of heat and aftershocks of pleasure that coursed through her body like currents of electricity.

She didn't know whether to just lie back and writhe helplessly on her bed, or push herself up on her elbows and stare shamelessly as he worked –because even doing this, he looked so beautiful and sophisticated.

That being thought, she allowed herself at least a moment to watch before she did end up back on her back and writhing on top of her sheets in blissful abandon (he did, after all, say for her to stop thinking and watching him was just making her think). And because it was really hard to watch when he was so determined to make her feel anyways, and she was literally blanking out from his work.

The silky fabric of the scarlet dress shirt he'd given her was rubbing wonderfully against her skin as she twisted and turned on her bed. His large hands grasped onto her thighs and helped keep them steady, when all she felt was the want of falling apart and shattering into pieces.

Sweat gathered all over her body, with exertion taking its toll on her. She continually let out moans and gasps that she tried to keep quiet, not wanting to alert the others to her predicament. She was afraid she would be too loud and draw the others there. She wouldn't want them walking in, much less finding out about this…them.

He could feel his hands slipping from their hold on her, their mingled sweat making it hard to keep a tight grip.

When he felt her nearing her end, he pulled back, which drew a strangled half moan half sob from her. She was staring at him in teary question, so he smiled gently at her. He moved onto the bed and lay parallel to her, staring straight into her gray eyes that were darkened so much that they reminded him of storm clouds.

He wrapped an arm around her neck and pulled her closer, drawing their heads close together, while his other hand was preoccupied with dancing teasingly on her thigh.

"Seneca," she murmured.

"Shh," he responded, kissing her. She could taste herself on his lips, sweet in a muted way. "Close your eyes."

He saw her hesitation plainly on her face. But he needed her to do this. She hadn't closed her eyes willingly with him the whole time and he needed her to just let go.

"Close your eyes…and live in the moment for once."

"I'm afraid to," she quietly admitted. "I don't like the idea of missing things. I don't like to look through the dark and miss the light."

"You don't have to be aware of everything all the time," he told her. "It's alright to just be carefree and not have to worry about everything. I told you. For once, let me be the one to take care of things…of you."

And then his hand stopped dancing and touched her.

"Close your eyes. It's okay. I'm right here."

And she closed them, and he was familiarizing her body to them, working her body up again and watching her beautiful face all the while –unguarded to his eyes finally that night.

She closed her eyes and kept them close because for once she didn't want to be the one responsible for things and always being on watch.

When it would all be done and over, her thoughts would likely cycle back to her. That was inescapable. But until then, she wanted to forget everything and only know how it felt for him to touch her like this and to feel free and blissful.

Because then she would be back to wondering what did he want from this; why would a man like him be pursuing this and her so forcefully and persistently?

What did Seneca Crane want from her?

Started 4/7/12 –Completed 4/9/12

EDITED 9/1/13: Again, edited to not be explicit and comply with guidelines, just in case.

A/n: Wow, what an enthusiastic response –I just had to update earlier than planned for this. Theme song for the chapter Safe & Sound by Taylor Swift, with last chapter's For You by Angus and Julia Stone (put on repeat and emphasized at the sex scenes, haha). Seneca and Katniss' reactions to each other (especially the truth of who they are) will be an on-going thing through the chapters, and we have Haymitch knowing she slept with someone but not who, Peeta knowing she went drunk wild the night before but not understanding what exactly went on, and Effie being…well, Effie. And they're all clueless about the eventual pregnancy at this point (mwahaha).

As I'd warned readers from another fic (and therefore copied here): Just to let you know don't expect this to be just a smut fic. This is more of a huge dramafest filled with the occasional, maybe more frequent, sexcapade. I don't think I could handle writing smut every single chapter O.O (and it's hilarious I warned off readers on the second chapter of this, like I had the second chapter of that fic).

Thanks to everyone who reviewed (like wow) and alerted! Please continue to show your support and review and alert!

To jess: Wow, thanks! And me too! I watched the movie and I just totally loved Seneca in it. And yeah, for some reason this pairing is addictive. Glad Seneca's a hit though!

To Chuck Finley: Thank you! And haha, everyone seems to want to know how the two will react to each other after the truth. Hope this chapter and their further reactions aren't disappointing. As for not killing enough Seneca…is if I go by reverse psych, does that mean I should?

To Mocking jay: Thanks so much for your faith in this! As for reactions, more is coming. And Seneca and Katniss' will continue to be explored too.

To Danielle: Thanks a lot! I'm glad you enjoyed this that much already. Hope you liked this chapter too!

To Bri: Yeah, ahaha! I love crack!pairings. I can't help but love Seneca/Katniss, so it's what I end up writing. Thanks for giving it a chance and liking it so far!

And even though it'll make the chapter even longer…

Omake! I

It was like a train wreck. Katniss kept staring, the head trainer brought everyone to attention, and then Seneca Crane was turning his head and had caught sight of her. They were frozen, ignoring everything else around them.

And then 'Seneca Crane' and 'Head Gamemaker' filtered into her blank mind, out of everything else the head trainer had said.

"WHAT?"

That brought everything to a standstill, and vaguely she realized that she'd missed the entire speech and everyone had been heading towards a station while she had blanked out. Of course, even though everyone was now staring at her, she continued to stare at Seneca who stared back at her.

At the same time the new facts they'd just learned began to process into their heads, Seneca jumped to his feet, they pointed at each other, and they both screamed in unison almost identical exclamations.

"I SLEPT WITH THE HEAD GAMEMAKER?"

"I SLEPT WITH A TRIBUTE?"

Utter chaos erupted after that.

Omake! II

Katniss was sort of morbidly curious how far of a wreck Clove could make of the knot station. So…she'd decided she'd hold off on the other stations for now and would stick to the knot station the entire day, monitoring the carnage as she let Clove keep on talking.

At the end, she believed Clove actually did know what she was doing.

Clove had to have been consciously making a nest for shelter or else a very dangerous trap of knots someone could get caught up in and choke, suffocate, or be lost in forever.

Omake! III

"Say, Katniss? Before I disappear, 'cause you know –I'd rather not stick around when your stalker comes around again; damn, she's already coming over, gotta make this quick –"

"Why don't you want to be around Clove?"

"She's creepy. Anyways, about earlier, when you were with the Head Gamemaker?"

"…Yeah?"

"What were you doing before that, outside? You have hair sticking up and coming loose, and there were leaves in your hair!"

"…I was frolicking on the grass." 'With Seneca.'

Started 4/10/12 –Completed 4/10/12 (Omake (in fanfiction): Bonus story scenes (usually comedic) that may or may not be part of the story, be part of the timeline or not, or just be a funny alternate.)