SURPRISE!

Early update! I got cranking on this last night since I figured the Interviews would take me a while to write.

This is where the plot begins to take off – a lot of the twists in the story come into begin here. The Gamemakers play a cruel joke on the tributes for the scored training session.

Enjoy!

Tonight's the night.

Tonight's the night where I set Haymitch's plan into action. I realize that this is only going to work if completely amaze them. Last night, after we returned from an intense day of giggling and flirting for the cameras, I'd tossed and turned trying to find sleep, but found instead many stressful hours awake. When Katniss crept into my room to wake me up this morning, I heard her sigh.

"What is it?" I ask.

She reaches out a steady hand to trace the circles under my eyes.

"You didn't sleep."

I shake my head.

"Is it the training session that's got you worried? Because if it is – seriously, Peeta, you have nothing to worry about. You have more talent than anyone here."

She's smiles at me, trying to reassure me that everything will be okay.

If only you knew, Katniss. If only you knew –

"Thank you," I breath, relaxing into the pillow away from her. Her touch suddenly causing a guilty burn on my cheek – I tried to slide away subtly, but Katniss misses nothing. She narrows her eyes at me, analyzing, but she doesn't say the words I expect.

"For what?"

"For being you. You're comforting me, even though you shouldn't have to," and suddenly I feel defensive. She shouldn't be comforting me. I should be comforting her..."I can take care of myself."

Pain flashes across her face in a blink, and I see her inching away from me. "Everyone needs someone, Peeta. Everyone needs to be comforted at one time or another."

"Not me," I argue. "I don't want your pity." It comes out harsher than I intended, and I can see it hurt her.

She freezes for a second, lips in a firm line like she's holding back words that she desperately wants to say. But she doesn't.

She walks away from me.

And now she won't look at me.

We're eating dinner now, and as if her silence wasn't cutting enough, the fact that she chooses to sit Haymitch in between us hurts more.

Maybe this was good, though. Haymitch did say that I didn't have to find her after I ditched the Careers. Maybe if she was mad at me, it'd be easier to stay away. But looking at her dejected face from across the table, I wasn't sure how that was easier.

Why did I have to love her?

Seriously.

You know how much easier this would be if I didn't? But considering I couldn't remember a time I hadn't been infatuated with Katniss, it's hard to imagine it.

"Are you two excited for tonight?" Effie chirps, breaking the mutual silence that had settled over dinner.

The three of us gaze at her. I'm not sure what faces they're making, but mine is pretty dirty.

"Guess...not."

That was about it conversation wise for the evening. Katniss refused to look at me. Haymitch drank. And Effie squirmed in her chair, unable to cope with the lack of conversation.

The tributes make their way in and out of the Gamemaker's slowly, each and every one gritting their teeth.

Katniss' leg begins its nervous jitter again, but this time I don't stop it. I don't feel as though I'm allowed to touch her.

"What are you showing them?" I murmur lowly. I'm not sure why I'm being quiet considering we are the only ones left, awaiting judgment.

Her eyes flicker towards me. "Painting," she says certainly. "You're shooting, I suppose?"

"Knives," I correct. "They've seen me shoot a little already. And I think I like knives better anyway."

She nods.

"Peeta Mellark District 12."

That's my cue.

As I stand I notice that I suddenly feel heavier. That's a good start, right? I slowly trudge toward the doors before Katniss stops me with her voice.

"Good luck," she calls out quietly.

I turn around and see her look at me head on for the first time since this morning, her eyes sparkling with so many emotions I get lost for a minute trying to sort them out.

"You too," I stammer. "Paint...well."

She smiles. My chest tightens. "Hit targets."

Can do, Katniss.

When I enter, my gaze is drawn towards the Gamemakers' tables where they are eating and drinking to their heart's content. The smell of wine hits my nose and makes my stomach churn.

They are very drunk.

There had to be at least seven empty bottles scattered along the end of the table. They're all laughing and chuckling at something one of them said, ignoring me completely. Fine. So be it. I head over towards the knives, scanning for my favorite short and sturdy one. There is a line of really long ones, but not the one I'm looking for. I look over it again, but that's it.

They don't have my knife.

What?

I flip around like a lunatic in circles, searching for my knife. My gaze is drawn towards the weight center, and I notice that the light weights, too, are missing.

And then I notice something that makes my heart stop all together.

The paint station is supposed to be where the Gamemakers' watch box is now...

My head starts flailing around crazily, looking for the missing station.

And that's when I realize that it no longer exists.

What the hell?!

The paint station is gone.

What is Katniss supposed to do?

I immediately go into panic mode. I barely recognize my voice when I introduce myself to the Gamermakers. But they don't care, they're too drunk.

I grab one of the three knives they have left, one which is much longer and heavier than any of the ones I've practiced with.

I chuck it at the dummy – it sticks in the shin. Not great, but hey, if it'd been a real person I would win the fight.

The Gamemakers aren't as impressed.

I get slightly better with the next three knives, sticking one in the neck, and one dead in the heart. I see a few of them nod their heads in approval and I think that's as good as it's going to get. I dismiss myself – walking out the exit door. I can't reach Katniss. I can't warn her that they took away her only skill.

What am I supposed to do?

I'm practically gnawing my hand down to the bone the entire night waiting for Katniss to return. Did she at least try to shoot an arrow, perhaps? She might have been able to hit a target. We hadn't done much with it during training, but maybe she learned something from me that first day. She is smart, you know.

I bet she asked for the paint station. They probably brought it back out.

Okay.

I relax slightly at the thought. I'm sure she's okay. She'll be –

"Katniss?" Haymitch's worried voice calls through the apartment. The sound of the front door slamming causes me to shoot straight up from my spot on the couch. I see Katniss dash down the hallway, on her way to her room. Her figure is tense and shaking. I reach out a hand to her from where I stand –

And then she looks at me.

Tears.

She's crying.

"Katniss," I croak, but she takes a sharp turn into her room, flying away from the crowd of worried friends surrounding her. I knock on her door repeatedly and I call her name and I beg, but the only reply I get are her soft, stifled sobs.

After a good twenty minutes of trying, I slump over to the couch, waiting for the scores to come on. Haymitch parks down next to me, running his hands over his face and sighs exhaustedly.

"Do you possibly know what happened?" he asks, breaking the silence.

I shrug, "I think. Katniss had said she was planning on painting herself in camouflage for the judges, but from what I saw, they had removed it along with a lot of other weapons. I have no idea what she did instead..."

Haymitch sighs again, leaning back into the cushions, matching my posture. "How'd you do?"

"Okay," I say. "They took away a lot of the knives I was familiar with, so I had to make use of the long ones they gave me. I did alright. I doubt I made an impression though."

Haymitch gives a small nod – and that's the only response I get. That worries me.

"Katniss?" Effie knocks on her door again, her voice soft and tender like a mother's. Her door creaks open slightly. Katniss wanders out, her face completely drained pale and eyes red rimmed and puffy.

None of us make a move to ask her how it went. The look on her face fills in the story.

She failed.

The TV clicks on then and a very blue Caesar Flickerman appears, beaming for all of Panem. He talks a little bit more about the upcoming Games how excited he is before he gets to scores. Most of the scores are low – 3s and 4s. The Careers, of course, score mostly eight through tens – Cato the highest of them. My heart pounds loudly in my ears awaiting 12. Rue and Thresh do pretty well, too. Rue scores a seven, and I wonder what she must have done to amaze them for being so tiny.

And then my picture comes up.

And beside it is the number 10.

Wow.

Haymitch's hand slapping me on my back brings me out of my dazed phase. His smile is the widest I've seen it.

"Good job, Peeta."

The exchange makes me think of my father briefly, but the painful stab in my chest makes me recoil. I try to give him my best smile back, but it feels fake.

Katniss is smiling at me, though very little. I can see it in her eyes. While she is proud of me, she is also carrying a large burden on her shoulders – one that pains her.

"And last, but certainly not least, the beautiful Katniss Everdeen – District 12," Caesar Flickerman announces gleefully before looking at his paper in hand. His blue eyebrow furrow as he stares in what appears to be confusion, his jaw going slightly slack.

"Eleven."

The room is completely silent besides the soft gasp from Effie. I can't seem to tear away my gaze from the dancing, sparkling eleven on the screen.

Eleven.

Katniss scored an eleven.

How?

I turn to look at her, silently asking her to tell me what happened.

Her eyes are not meeting mine, but instead are wide and drawn to the screen, too. She looks just as stunned as everyone else.

"Katniss," I begin, trying to find my voice. "What did you do?"

Her head flips towards me, eyes filled with another wave of tears, but looking more relieved than I'd ever seen anyone in my life.

The small smile previously set on her face is now large and genuine.

She huffs out a gust of air, before heading straight towards her room.

Not even saying a word.

Ooooh...What happened to Katniss? Did they give her back her paints? Maybe...just maybe...she dirty negotiated with the Gamemakers like she did poor ol' papa Haymitch?

We'll see ;) I don't want to give away spoilers.

If you do have any ideas as to what happened, I will...GIVE YOU A COOKIE :-)

Reviews are greatly appreciated...just saying