A/N: 'Ello! This story and my other one called 'End of Days' are going to be the two I'm going to focus on the most until finish. If you haven't checked out 'End of Days', have look! It might not be everyone's cup of tea though which I understand.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. Or the idea for S.I.N.G. Virtual cookies for anyone who can guess which movie Peeta saw it from! I apologize for any typos! :)

Chapter Ten: Smallest of Sparks

Peeta had expected Cato to take him deep into the forest to do the self defense lesson but was surprised when he was simply taken a little off from the camp. It wasn't that Peeta was worried about the other wolves seeing them, he just preferred to be alone with Cato. He didn't know why, he just . . . did.

"The first rule of self defense is that if you have anything in your hands-even if it's just a twig-keep it there. Don't drop it or throw it away," Cato explained as they walked. "I'd say that defusion is the next step but since we're peaceful camps, I doubt the reason someone would want to hurt you would be something that can simply be defused."

"Probably not," Peeta agreed.

They stopped. Peeta could still see Clove in the distance, munching on the remainder of the dandelion mush she had put together. What if he made a stupid mistake and everyone saw it? He was their supposed 'leader'. It wouldn't make a good impression for them to see their future leader tripping over his shoelaces and fumbling like a bafoon.

Cato turned Peeta by his shoulders so they were facing each other. "First thing you do," he said. "If someone gets too close for comfort, if you feel that they're going to attack you or you simply feel like your personal space is being invaded and you don't like it, push them back and shout, 'back off'. This makes them aware that you're not an easy target and can also alert others that something's up."

Peeta nodded. Well, that seemed easy enough.

"Before an attacker has full control of you, before you're completely at their mercy, you must do as much as you can to inflict injury and get away," Cato continued. "I know it can be scary once in a confrontation with someone but you have to keep a cool head and remember everything I tell you, okay?"

Peeta nodded again.

Cato shook his head. "I need to you tell me you understand," he said.

"Okay. I understand," Peeta replied. He wondered why it mattered whether he said it or not but didn't voice his wonder. Cato knew what he was doing.

"There are seven places you can go for," Cato said. He waved a hand over his face. "Eyes, nose, ears." His hand moved down to his throat. "Neck." He patted his knee. "Knees and legs."

Peeta committed the seven places to memory. Eyes, nose, ears, neck, knees and legs. Eyes, nose, ears, neck, knees and legs. Eyes, nose, ears, neck, knees, legs. He would probably come up with some sort of rythme to remember later on. It was how he used to memorize things when he was revising for exams in school and would probably work well enough for the seven points of attack.

"For the eyes, common gouging and scratching will temporaily blind your attacker so you can escape," Cato explained. "And if you've been taught to turn then your claws will help with that." Peeta winced at the thought of gouging someone's eyes out with sharp claws.

"As for the nose, use this if the attacker is close up in front of you. Use the heel of your hand to strike up through the nose." Cato took Peeta's hand and showed him how to do it, showing him how to bend his hand so the heel pointed out and how to thrust it up. "But if the attacker is behind you-" Cato touched Peeta's elbow and guided it upwards-"simply strike with your elbow."

Having Cato touching him like this, even though it was just his hands and arms, made Peeta feel extremely flustered and embarrassed. It was ridiculous but he couldn't help it. He had to force himself from getting distracted by the wolf's charm and obvious good looks. He had to focus on this or he was vulnerable to attack.

"You can also press your fingers tightly together and bend your thumb at an angle to strike at the side of the neck." Cato demonstrated, miming doing it to Peeta. "Or, again, just do it with your elbow. Knees are most obvious as they are vulnerable from every angle. Kicking the side of the knee will cause inbalance and injury and is the best angle to attack from."

"Right. Got it," Peeta said.

Cato nodded. It was obvious that he was really serious about this self defense thing. Well, he had said it would give him a peace of mind if Peeta knew how to protect himself. "As for if the attacker has a hold of you, for example, your wrist." Cato wrapped his fingers around Peeta's wrist and squeezed tight. "Squat down and push forward before thrusting upwards and your attacker is forced to let go." He nodded his head for Peeta to give it ago.

Ignoring the fact that his heart was beating faster simply because Cato was holding onto his wrist, Peeta did what Cato told him too. He didn't think it would work, since Cato was so much stronger and larger than him, but was shocked when it actually did. The technique Cato described forced him to let go of his wrist. "Whoa," he breathed. "It worked."

Cato chuckled. "Of course it did," he grinned. Peeta let his guard down for a moment and grinned back. Cato took the moment and grabbed his wrist again, using the hold to pull him into a hold which could have been mistaken for a bear hug from behind. Peeta yelped, his heart rate quickening at how his back was pressed right up against Cato's front.

"What are you doing?!" he exclaimed breathlessly.

"If someone gets a hold of you from behind, drop your weight and try to hit their head with your elbows or stomp their feet with your own," Cato explained in a measured, professional tone. Peeta found it a little difficult to concentrate, Cato's breath brushing the back of his neck distracting him greatly, but he managed to listen enough to get the jist of what he said. "If that doesn't work, pull their fingers backwards until they're forced to let go and rotate out of the hold. After that attack with your knees and kick them."

"Okay, got it," Peeta nodded. There was a long pause afterward, where everything was silent and all he could focus on was how close Cato and his bodies were. His blood heated up in his veins, burning its way through his system like an inferno.

Things were about to get worse.

Cato swiped his leg underneath Peeta's, causing him to lose his balance and fall. Peeta yelped, the impact of his back against the ground knocking the breath from his lungs. Cato climbed ontop of him, pinning his hips to the ground with his own. Peeta's eyes widened in horror, staring at the man ontop of him in shock and surprise. "Are you crazy?!" he yelled.

"If you're pinned to the ground," Cato said, keep up his professional facade, "hook their wrist with one hand and use your other hand to grab their elbow. This will pin their hand against your chest. Use your foot to hook around theirs, lift your hips and turn over onto your knees so that you are then ontop." He raised his eyebrows. "Give it a go."

Peeta swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. He grabbed Cato's wrist and elbow, hooked his foot around his, lifted his hips up and turned onto his knees. The fact that it, again, worked took him by surprise and he yelped when they tumbled over and he was suddenly ontop.

He stared at Cato with wide eyes. The older boy was grinning, clearly amused with is confusion. "But you're so much bigger than me," Peeta blurted out.

"I know. Weird, isn't it?" Cato replied.

Peeta continued to stare. He had a sudden urge to lurch forward and kiss Cato. It was a weird feeling and he didn't know what triggered it, exactly. Was it the fact that he felt enpowered sitting ontop of the man? Or was it the tiny piece of vulnerability he felt at the knowledge that Cato could do a simple manuover and he'd be underneath him again?

So he didn't embarrass himself, Peeta slipped off of Cato and sat beside him. Cato propped himself up on his elbows and watched him carefully. Something suddenly came to mind, something he'd learned on his seventeeth birthday when he was having the movie night with the girls. "What about SING?" he asked.

Cato frowned. "SING?" he replied.

Peeta nodded. "Yeah, SING."

"What the heck is SING?"

Peeta felt amused. The childish jitter that comes when you find that you know something the adults don't. "I'll show you. Stand up." Curious as to what Peeta was talking about, Cato stood up with him. Peeta turned around. "Come at me from behind." He hadn't done this before but he was too giddy about it to dwell too much on that.

Cato didn't question him. He came at Peeta from behind, wrapping his arm around his neck. Peeta almost lost his line of thought, overwhelmed by the adrenalin that surged through his body at being so close to Cato again. He shook it off and jabbed his elbow underneath Cato's ribs, forgetting completely that he wasn't supposed to actually hit him. Not realizing until afterward, he stepped on Cato's foot, jabbed his elbow upward so it hit his nose and back down again into his groin.

"SING," he said, not turning around. "It stands for solar plexus, instep, nose and groin."

"Great," Cato croaked.

Peeta turned around in confusion, his eyes widening in horror when he saw the older boy on his knees on the ground. "Oh shit, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed. "Are you alright?!"

"Just fine," Cato replied, tipping his head back and holding his hand below his nose.

Peeta winced. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, I learned it on t.v," he said in a rush. "I didn't really think it would actually work."

"It's a good technique," Cato said. "Just maybe ease up when you're demonstrating next time, okay?"

"You got it," Peeta quickly said. He helped Cato stand up and smiled. "At least I know how to look after myself now."

Cato laughed and wiped the back of his forehead with his hand. "Good thing, too. Who knows when Marvel might try to pull a fast one. He may be quicker than you but sometimes simple self defense is enough to caught an Undead off guard."

"But Marvel is really old," Peeta pointed out, "surely he'll see something like that coming."

"Marvel's age brings arrogance," Cato replied. Peeta saw how the blood was spilling from his nose and felt guilty. He grabbed Cato's wrist and walked him back to camp, set on fixing what he had messed up. "He thinks because he's older than most he can get away with almost anything. That he's better than everyone, more experienced, and therefore much more smart. Such arrogance is what can bring most people's demise."

Peeta gestured at a log and Cato obediently sat down on it. "Is Marvel older than you?" he asked, searching for a leaf thick enough to gauge the blood coming from Cato's nose.

"Has no one ever told you that it's rude to ask someone their age?" Cato smirked.

"That's a woman," Peeta replied. "It's rude to ask a woman her age." He pulled a root out of the ground and examined the leaves thoughtfully. "And I'm technically pretty old as well. If you count all my reborn lives."

"If you could remember them, sure, I'd count them," said Cato. "But you can't. Only snippets of memories have surfaced in your subconscious as of late."

Peeta picked off a suitably thick leaf and crouched in front of Cato. He batted his hands away and dabbed at the blood on his nose. "Is someone a little shy about their age?" Peeta teased. Cato laughed, the action causing more blood to gush from his nose.

"Not a chance," he said.

"You said it was your . . . what was it? Forty eighth time going through all this?" asked Peeta. "So, is that it? With the eighteen year lee-way for forty eight years then you're well over one hundred. That's not too bad-"

"It was actually the forty seventh time," Cato corrected. "But forty seven isn't the right number."

"It isn't?" asked Peeta. The leaf was already covered in blood. He hoped he hadn't broken Cato's nose. How could you cure a broken nose in the forest? Was there a healer or medic?

"Forty seven is when I stopped counting," Cato explained.

Peeta frowned. He paused his dabbing and shook the leaf off a little. "How long ago did you stop?"

Cato also frowned, as if thinking it over. "I honestly can't remember," he said. "It was so long ago."

"As in a few years long ago or . . . ?"

Cato winked. "Very long ago."

Peeta paused, leaf mid-shake. "Oh."

"Cato!" Clove came running towards them, her face alight with glee. "Was I seeing things or did I just see your ass get kicked by Peeta? An unexperienced fighter who is still trying to get his bearings against you, an old timer who has been fighting his whole life?"

"Don't start Clove," Cato replied.

Clove cackled, slapping her knee in delight. "Oh wow, this is rich!" she chuckled. She straightened up and playfully punched Peeta's arm. "Well done, Peeta. Good job. This is . . . oh god, I can't breathe."

"You finished yet?" asked Cato.

Clove leaned in close to her boss' face and squinted. "Is your nose broken?"

"I didn't mean to break it," Peeta quickly said.

"Don't act as if it's a bad thing," Clove laughed. "Broken noses are easily solved." She rubbed her hands together and grinned at Cato. "Ready?"

Cato cracked his neck and nodded. Peeta stood back but watched avid interest as Clove enclosed Cato's nose between her thumb and knuckle. Without so much as a warning, she jerked his nose violently to the left, right, up and down. Cato gritted his teeth and barely made a sound but Peeta could tell from the sound of the bones crunching how painful it was.

"There, good as new," Clove replied, dusting her hands off. "How's it feel?"

"Swollen," Cato replied. He touched his nose tentatively as if to check for swelling but quickly recoiled with a hiss of pain as soon as his fingertips made contact.

"You're such a crybaby sometimes," Clove sighed. She sat down on the ground and nudged the bloody leaf away with her toe. She turned and grinned at Peeta. "At least you know how to defend yourself now."

"Yeah," Peeta agreed. "At least I do." Never mind Cato having a peace of mind, Peeta felt a bit more relaxed now that he knew how to fight a possible attacker. Especially after the disturbing dream with Death in it. And besides, if all else failed, he could use his fists. "Not that I could have done it anyway."

Clove raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure? You seem a bit . . ."

"What?" Peeta asked defensively. "A bit what?"

"Well . . . I never take you as the sort to know how to fight," Clove said.

Peeta was a little offended. "Excuse me, I know how to fight," he said. "I came second in every wrestling meet I ever took part in. I only ever same second to my brother!"

"I'd believe that," said Cato. He stood up, tired of being smaller than everyone else, and cleaned the rest of the blood off his face. "The smallest of sparks can create the biggest of fires."

"Where'd you read that from?" Clove grinned.

Cato shrugged with an easy smile. "No where. It came from my head," he said. Peeta liked the sound of the statement. After being small most of his life (and being sick of hearing 'big things come in small packages') it was nice to hear such an encouraging statement. Especially from someone who dwarfs Peeta in height like Cato did.

While Cato and Clove stepped off to the side to discuss something, Peeta couldn't stop smiling. He was glad that Cato didn't see him as a weak boy who couldn't defend himself. He hadn't wanted to teach him self defense because he didn't think he was incapable of protecthing himself, he just did it to take a percaution. For some reason, that was all Peeta needed. The knowledge that Cato believed him in made everyone else's opinions seem pointless.

"So, what's next on the agenda?" asked Peeta.

Cato and Clove turned to him, both wearing serious faces. Peeta had a bad feeling about what they were about to say. "Well . . . we were just talking," Clove said. "And we think you're ready."

"Ready? Ready for what?" Peeta asked.

Cato took a deep breath as if preparing for a big speech. "Tomorrow I'm going to show you how to turn."

A/N: Sorry, it's a little shorter than usual!

This Saturday and Sunday I won't be doing any writing because it's my birthday weekend! I'll make up for it though, I promise! ^_^

Please R&R!