Thanks for the reviews, lovelies! So glad to find Galeniss shippers out there.

No rights to The Hunger Games.

Gale suddenly loses his appetite. He begins trudging away from the table off to wherever else it was possible to go in the extravagant vehicle.

"Gale!" I call after him. "Hey!"

I stand up and trot after him, grabbing his shoulder to spin him around once I reach him.

"What's your problem?" I question accusingly. "You wanted me to wear the pin, so I wore it."

"Yeah, I know," he admitted. "It's just getting to me."

"What is?" I ask, the anger melting from my face at his defeated expression. "What's wrong?"

"The steak was too rare," he replied, beginning to turn around.

"Gale."

He pauses, then turns back to face me.

"What do you think is wrong, Katniss?" he snaps. "Does imminent death ring a bell at all?"

"And does it take your pin to remind you of that?"

"No, it's just . . ." he sighs deeply. "I don't know. You expressed that it symbolized you accepting my death, and then you put it on. It kind of makes you think."

"I didn't say that's what it meant to me," I point out.

"You didn't have to."

He knew me too well.

"Look," I began, "I'm wearing it because I like it and I'm grateful. I'm not accepting your death. Because if you die in these games," I pointed a finger at his chest, "I will kill you, you hear me?"

Gale chuckled lightly and looked down at my feet. "You're definitely capable."

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"But I'll kill you if you die in there, too, alright?" Gale made clear.

Of course, neither of us would make do on that. Most of the reason was that such an act wasn't possible unless some sort of anomaly happened in regard to space and/or time. Another aspect was that it might never be able to bring ourselves to kill the other.

I decide to bring up this concern.

"Hey, Gale," I start, "if it was down to the two of us, would you kill me?"

"No," he answers without hesitation.

"What if I asked you to?"

"No."

"What if I was in pain? To put me out of my misery?"

He thought about this one for a moment, but came to the same conclusion. "No. There'd still be a chance you'd survive, and then the Capitol could patch you back up. Would you kill me?"

"I don't think so," I reply.

"You don't think so."

I realize how terrible that sounded. "No. No, I wouldn't kill you."

He raises an eyebrow and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"I wouldn't!"

"To put me out of my misery?"

I shake my head immediately in attempt to redeem myself, but my voice still cracks when I try to respond. "No."

He cocks his head to the side.

"Well . . . how miserable are you, hypothetically?"

"Thanks!"

"Well, I don't want to watch you suffer!" I defend myself. "What if you're being burned alive or something? I could just shoot you in the head or something instead of watching your skin boil."

"Have you thought a lot about this?" Gale asks curiously.

Admittedly, I had, but somehow, it seemed wise to mentioned it, so I kept quiet about it.

But this is Gale, so he knew I had just by looking at me. "But you don't want to kill me, right?"

"Of course not, Gale. Who do you think I am?"

"You don't want me to die and I don't want you to die," he listed. "Neither of these options is very plausible in the arena."

"Dually noted."

"So let's not go into the arena," he stated simply.

"Gee, Gale, you're a genius," I drone sarcastically.

"I'm serious," he continues. "Let's escape. Let's leave."

"We're going about five hundred miles per hour or something," I point out.

"Maybe not now," he says quietly so Effie, still eating and glancing up at us occasionally, doesn't overhear, "but soon. We could run away, back to District 12. Maybe just the next District over. Let's just leave."

"You don't think others haven't tried?" I cry in disbelief. "You're being imbecilic!"

"It's worth a try," he pushes, putting his hands on my arms. "If they catch us, we're probably just thrown into the arena anyway."

"But . . ."

"Katniss, please, I . . ." he trails off.

"What?" I press.

He drops his hands, then his eyes. When he looks back at me again, words accompany his gaze. "I can't watch you die."

"Yes, you can," I say blatantly. "Millions of others can. They enjoy it."

"Katniss," he says simply, but forcefully.

I sigh. "Fine," I concede. "But, please, if you have any sense at all, not yet. Wait until we're not in motion."

He smiles a small smile at me. "Good." He moves as if he's about to hug me, but changes his mind and drops his arms when he sees me stiffen as I expect it. As he brushes past me, I regret that decision. I take a moment to hope that I didn't hurt his feelings or anything.

Gale sits down back at the table, still a good distance from Effie. I start to think maybe it wasn't a good idea discussing escape plans right in front of her. It might be paranoia, but I feel she's eyeballing us a little more suspiciously now then she was before. Gale picks up a fresh roll and beckons me over.

"Come on, Catnip," he encourages.

I scurry over to the chair beside him where a hunk of my old meat still waits. It suddenly seems tantalizing and I dig into it, abandoning the fork. If Gale and I are escaping soon, I'd like to make the most of the meals that luxury has to offer.

I eat and I wait for escape opportunity.

Gale does the same.