Disclaimer: I ain't no whore! I don't do this for money! No, but seriously I don't own the Hunger Games

Warnings: Vague mention of blood I guess...

My tumblr is spankthebatchild. Please review and tell your friends about this story. If you have any requests about specific moments in the Hunger Games that you'd like me to write about, I'd be more than happy to meet those wants.

Clove grinded her teeth as she listened to the countdown. In only fifteen seconds, the game would begin. She turned her head to give Cato a quick nod and a small smile. Then, she face the Cornucopia once more and prepared to run.

"Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one." As soon at Clove heard the final number called, she leapt up. There was a pack immediately place in front of her. She swung it onto her back and quickly found two knives in a side pocket. She saw a small boy running towards a pack not too far away. Without even needing to aim, Clove hit him square in the back. She ran quickly enough to pull it back out before he hit the ground. She pulled the second pack onto her back. Spinning around, she saw Katniss running off towards the words with a pack on her back.

Clove knew that Katniss was a force to be reckoned with. She brought her knife up in preparation for throwing it. Clove needed to aim at Katniss's side to cause any real damage. Clove would have made a direct hit, but her hand was slick with blood. The knife flew into Katniss's back, and she was off before Clove had a chance to retry.

"Clove!" Cato shouted. She reluctantly turned away from Katniss and helped finish off the rest of the easy prey.

Later Clove left the rest of the group while they set up a kind of camp ground. She found a gentle flowing brook and dipped her hands into it. The water turned red around them. For a moment, Clove felt sick, but she brushed the feeling aside. This was fun. This was what she had wanted to do for so long. Finally, her chance had come. She began to scrub away at the hardened blood. It was the tributes' own faults for not training harder. Anyone could win the games. They just had to want it enough. Clove wanted it.

"Clove," Cato greeted running up to her laughing. "Did you see that curly head kid? I don't know what he was thinking! Such an easy kill!" Clove laughed.

"Yeah," she agreed. "This will be over quick. How's the camp?"

"Great," Cato answered sitting down next to her and washing the blood off of his own hands. "We were thinking of going out tonight. We want to see if we can knock down the numbers even more before tomorrow!"

"I'm in," Clove shouted. She needed something to get her mind off the impending future and what it would mean for Cato. What better thing than a little recreation? Cato smiled and pulled her closer to himself. He placed a kiss to the top of head. Clove let herself fall into the romance of it before realizing what was going on and pulling away. She stared him with bewilderment.

"What?" Cato questioned.

"Not here," she protested. "Not for the world to see. I'm not porn." Cato shrugged.

"Alright," he agreed. "Your loss." They sat in silence for a moment.

"Do you think we'll get any sponsors?" Clove asked.

"Yeah! Tons!" Cato reassured her. "The Capitol loved us!"

"When will we need sponsors though? I can't imagine needing anything. I've already got knives. I don't anything else," Clove pointed out.

"I'm sure they'll think of some kind of gift."

At that moment, and parachute came floating down from the sky. Cato smiled at Clove and gestured for Clove to take it. She greedily grabbed it before it hit the ground. Attached to parachute was a slender wooden box with a little metal clasp. She carefully undid the clasp and lifted up the lid. Inside were five beautifully crafter knives. She picked one up and tested the weight in her hand. It was perfectly weighted for her strength and size. On the end of the handle "Made in District Two," was carved. It was a little piece of home.

"Let me see," Cato requested. She handed it over, and he inspected it. "They're obviously for you," he laughed. "I'm no good with throwing knives, and these were created especially for you."

"You know my personalized weights?" she asked laughing.

"I've seen your knives often enough to recognize them," he answered shrugging. Clove had the sudden urge to test her new toys out.

"Go stand against that tree," she commanded. Cato eyed her suspiciously. Clove rolled her eyes. "Cato, you can trust me. I'm not ready to kill you yet."

He obediently stood against the tree she had pointed to. She hooked her five new knives into her belt and took a deep breath. In a flash she drew each one out. Practically as soon as each one left her belt, they left her hand. When each had been thrown, she surveyed her handy work. Cato had been successfully pinned to the tree by his shirt.

His breathing was shallow, and for a second Clove was afraid that she had injured him. She couldn't see any blood, and he hadn't cried out. She hadn't missed in a long time.

"Did I hit you?" she asked worriedly.

"No," Cato chuckled. "You just scared the shit out of me. It's kind of a turn-on." He laughed at Clove's scowl as she tore out each knife individually. When he was free, he caught her chin in his hand. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips. In anger, Clove pinned Cato back onto the tree with her knife.

"I said no," she growled. She drew her knife out again and stormed away. She wanted it to be nightfall. She wanted to kill.