Wiress

By the time Gunny shows up, I think I'm able to appear calm. I hope. She's in a floor length dress and fluffy wrap, I think she must have come straight from a party. I'm still not entirely sure what an escort's job is during the Games. She grimaces at the breeze and produces a canary yellow scarf to tie her hair up. "They will kill me if I mess up my hair and they need to reset it." It's just filler prattle, doesn't really mean anything, I don't know who "they" are, do escorts have stylists of their own? But anyway it's got me thinking about the breeze and how it must be manufactured because I don't think any of it is actually open to the elements. I scan the walls for a duct. The Capitol keeps finding new and unusual ways to create fictions. "I've lost your attention already, I see," Gunny says, a bit of humor in her voice. I don't think she's angry with me.

"I just…" I can't finish my sentence. I look down at my hands, hating that I feel helpless without Beetee by my side. I'm frustrated and angry with myself; I need to be able to survive on my own. I did it in the arena, why can't I do it now?

"It's okay, sweetie." She pats my shoulder gently. "So. Now you've been backstage at the Games. Seen how many people are destroyed by them each year." I nod, pursing my lips. It's something I'd been thinking about a lot in the past year. Would the Capitol be so horrible if we just didn't have the Games. My heart has settled on yes, that the way they push down every single District citizen would be intolerable even without the taking and torture of their children. I try to put this in words to explain to Gunny but the thoughts slip between the cracks of my brain and don't come out of my mouth.

I settle for speaking slowly, carefully forming each word, tasting the syllables before saying them. "I think…" careful, careful. I don't know if I can trust her. I have to be vague. Don't show your fear, but don't hesitate too long either. "I think the general quality of life in the Districts is something that could be worked on." There are bells ringing in my head. It was good, wasn't it? A bland response, something I think I've said in interviews several times. Idealistic perhaps, but leaving the Capitol confident that they will be given anything I've managed to create.

Gunny sighs. "This will be a difficult conversation to have if we can't speak openly." She drums her perfectly manicured fingertips on the railing. "I brought you up here for a reason. The bugs don't really pick up anything, not with the wind and ambient noise. I think they have engineers working on better listening devices, in fact they'll probably ask you two about that. I'd play dumb, if I were you. I have no doubt that you could improve on the existing design, but they don't know that. Tell them electronics aren't your strong suit and let Beetee handle it. Don't let them see any work you do on things like bugs or intercoms or cameras." She ends her little lecture by raising an eyebrow. "Got it?"

"Yes." I think she's sincere. I usually have a good sense of when to trust people, and while there's no blood on her, my intuition isn't saying anything. I've just fought too hard to preserve my own life to do or say something stupid right now. "What do you suggest I work on?"

Gunny shrugs. "I don't know how any of the things you make work, darling. But fripperies. Little silly things to please the average citizen. Things of no import." She lights up suddenly, excited to work on strategy. "You're close with Fisk, aren't you? And your style team? Keep that up, make little things for them. It will keep you in their good graces, which is important, and then if anyone asks you about your creations you can focus on how much you like Capitol luxuries and want to create them at home in your dreary gray district. They eat up that kind of flattery, and it's very believable." I tilt my head, is it believable? When I don't wear any makeup of my own? "I mean no insult, sweetie, but you are rather plain, unadorned or not, and the citizen can't imagine that you could be happy like that. Plainness longing to be like them is one of those things they will just accept."

"The average citizen perhaps…"

"And what of the brains of the operation? It might still work. They might take it at face value or they might think you are wasting your talent, but I doubt they will view it as cover." She sees my stricken face and shoots me a sympathetic look. "Oh darling, I've seen you work on the train, you and Beetee, I know you're brilliant! You've been very clever at hiding your work, don't be sad that I've guessed!"

I stay silent, which seems to be the wisest course of action. I chew on my lip and try to keep breathing and don't say a single thing at all.

"I'm trying to help, Wiress. I really am." Her voice is soft and sincere, although brought down to almost a whisper. "There's not much any of us can do now except take baby steps. I like your ideas, the way you think. Small picture things. I don't think we'll be capable of stopping the government anytime soon, stopping the Games. But you want to help the districts. Districts you can't really communicate with. You want to make things they need but have no way of getting them to where they need to be. I do."

She's right. She's so right that I wonder if I've misheard her. I've been trying to come up with an idea, a plan to get anything I make past the Capitol and into the hands of those who will use it. I've come up blank and now Gunny has shown up as the answer and it feels too good to be true. It might be. It might be a trap. "I need to think," I mumble.

"Of course," she sighs. "You've got time to think, time to kill before these Games are over. It's early days, yet." Is it? I try to get my brain to settle and think and is it really only the second evening of the Games? So many children have died already. The amount of time the Games take can vary widely, and I guess these ones seem to be going fast because there's not much cover in this arena. With fewer children left, they might be better able to hide now and it could drag on. Or the Gamemakers could intervene and end this in a matter of minutes.

"I've lost you again," she says, gently. I meet her eyes and I guess she can see the fear there, because she clucks her tongue and gently pats my hair. "Oh, sweetie. You'll survive this. I hope you realize that it's even possible for you to thrive." I'm doubtful, but she sounds very certain. She has an awful lot of confidence in me. "At the upcoming parties, I have someone I want you to meet. Someone that can help. If you decide you can trust me, you can also trust him. Just keep in mind that you aren't alone in your cares, alright darling?" She straightens her shoulders and pouts her lips, putting her Capitol smile back on. "You're shivering, poor thing." I hadn't thought there would be an artificial breeze up here, had I? There wasn't one last year. Gunny unwraps the scarf from around her hair and drapes it around my neck. "There. You look lovely in yellow, Wiress. Like a little bird." She loops her arm in mine and we ride down in the elevator together in silence. She's given me quite a bit to think about.

Beetee

I spend time in the control room with the other mentors, not doing much of anything, but I want to give Wiress her space and I don't want to be alone. There are mentors still focused on their tributes in the arena, mentors who are drunk or high or otherwise indisposed, and mentors being social. I hate to call something so depressing 'normal', but after time in your home District around people who can't understand, it is rather nice to be around people like yourself. I call it a night somewhat early, and find a sleeping Wiress in our bed, worry lines etched into her forehead, even in sleep. Even at age seventeen. The hollowness sits in my stomach again. My poor girl. I join her in bed, feeling powerless and knowing that it is impossible for anyone to love another person enough to save them from this life.

I wake up slowly in the morning, the artificial light trickling in to mimic sunrise, my partner snuggling into my chest.

"Morning," she greets me, voice muffled in our blankets.

"Hi."

She sits up, adjusting and fiddling with the covers. There's something on her mind. "I need to talk to you."

I raise my eyebrows, intrigued.

"Do…" she trails off, watching the light make patterns on the carpet. It takes her a few moments to recollect where she is and what she's doing. "Do you trust Gunny?"

I think before I respond. "It would depend in what way. She seems reliable, she's good at her job. She gets us where we need to be without antagonizing us, she is usually even nice. That's a bit unusual for escorts. Most people hate theirs. I like her better than our last."

Wiress frowns, thinking. Then she motions for me to join her before pulling the blankets over our heads. I open my mouth to remind her that I had mostly covered the one bug in this room, so its sensitivity was too low to capture this kind of conversation, but she must have her reasons, and if the added precaution makes her feel more comfortable, so be it. "Gunny wants to help…us, the districts. I don't know…"

"…if you can trust her. I see, now." We're on tricky ground, here. She could be testing us. She could be checking our loyalty for the Capitol and in that case, we'd be better off trying to turn her in. Just not if she's actually on our side.

Wiress' big eyes are examining my face, hoping to find an answer there, but I don't have one. I'm just as lost and confused as she is. "She wants me to meet someone. At these parties. So I need to figure it out soon."

"What's your gut feeling?"

She frowns. "Yes. That she…we can. But I don't know anything." We leave the conversation at that, for the time being.

The mentor room is quiet when we get there, everyone must be sleeping in if they don't still have tributes in the arena. Carmen waves us over just as an avox brings her a plate of food.

"Oh thank goodness, someone to talk to. Jolene and I are doing shifts and I need something to keep me awake."

Wiress sits next to her and peers at the screens. "Who's still in? I'm out of the loop."

"Jed, of course. Both from Two, still with the boy from One. The District 4 boy is alive, but left the alliance in the night." Wiress catches my eye, probably thinking how our tributes suspected District 4 wasn't comfortable with the careers this year. "let's see, two more. Odd ones. Ah, girls from Five and Seven."

"So few." This is only the third day.

"We missed the interviews? Final eight?" Wiress is chewing on her bottom lip. The interviews are difficult to watch, all those hopeful families. I would like to spare her this.

"Yes and no," Carmen gestures at one of the screens with her fork. "It was the middle of the night when we hit eight kids, so there was some lag. They've been trickling in all morning, and I bet they'll show them over and over during the day. Nothing's happening in the arena, everyone sort of has their own territory."

"It'll probably be quiet, then, while they catch up," I muse. Often, the final eight spurs gamemaker action, but the interviews should provide entertainment enough for the rest of the day. If there's no organic action by tomorrow, that's when we should expect surprises.

Wiress sighs and leans back into me. It's uncomfortable, in these chairs, but I'm not about to move her away. "I wish we were back home, in the workshop…"

"Me too." I kiss her temple.

"You're so cute. Stop," Carmen teases with a yawn. "Cute won't keep me awake, maybe try arguing."

Wiress giggles. "Why don't you take a catnap on one of the couches?" I suggest. "Wiress and I can keep an eye on Jed and wake you if necessary."

Carmen purses her lips, considering. She make like us just fine, but trust is different, especially with regards to the Games. "Alright. Twenty minutes at most, though. Jolene will be down in less than two hours."

The arena stays as quiet as we expect, through our twenty minutes and beyond. Jolene shows up for her shift at the screens, with only a quick kiss and a report before Carmen leaves for her rest. Jed finds food in the river again, but this time he risks a small fire, smothering it after only a short time to cook in the coals. I hate to admit that I'm bored, not when there are seven children fighting to stay alive, but I'm used to working on two or three complex problems at a time with my inventions, and my brain is begging for more stimulation. I open my mouth to complain to Wiress when we are approached by an avox. She's a pretty one, dark hair and green eyes, I wonder what she did to warrant the removal of her tongue. Did she refuse the wrong man? It's not just victors who are abused, sexually, and I imagine this would be quite the threat. She hands Wiress a note on soft pink notepaper. I shake off my thoughts, my imagination running away with me just because I've been bored.

"We're invited…" Wiress trails off, biting the inside of her cheek, handing me the note rather than force more words out. It's an invitation to a party tonight, from a citizen whose name seems familiar, probably one of Wiress' sponsors last year. She had a rush of them after her stunt in the clearing. "Gunny's work, I guess." I nod in agreement. I finally remember which of the many sponsors this 'Glenda Crane' is.

"She is nice enough. Probably a pretty low key party, she has a whole bunch of children she dotes on. You'd like her." Wiress raises her eyebrows to indicate how unlikely it is that she would like any Capitol citizen.

We stay another hour or so, in the control room with Jolene, but our hearts aren't in it. My thoughts are racing, and Wiress spends most of it leaning into my arms and I can't focus on an arena full of hiding children.

Wiress

I hate the lack of control I have when I need to play the Capitol's games. I hate being used and I hate being famous and I hate things like this, being invited to a party just because I was the best killer out of twenty four. I'm getting myself worked up, so I jump out of my chair and walk back and forth in the back of the room, trying to release this nervous energy. I want to help the Districts. I want to do whatever I can, but at the moment, there's only one person who I know I can trust. That's more than many people have, I suppose. I stalk over to him where he's sitting calmly. I don't know how he does it. Doesn't he feel like he's about to burst, the way I do?

"Beetee" I whisper in his ear. He looks up at me. "Let me know when you're ready to get out of here." He raises an eyebrow and I answer him with a sly smile. He takes my hand and we slip away without saying anything to anyone. We push through the doors to our suite, eager to reach the bed. He kisses me so hard, takes my bottom lip between his teeth, runs his tongue along mine, every sensation is overwhelming in an amazing way. There's no room in my head for any thoughts other than the feelings. I'm so worked up right now. I need him. I need to feel him move inside me. I lean back on the bed, and he's immediately over me, eager to touch.

"Sparks, you drive me crazy, Wiress." He kisses his way along my jawbone, making me shiver. His hands run up my tunic, he spreads his fingers against my bare skin. His body feels so strong next to mine, I love the contrast, I love the masculinity.

"Beetee!" I moan. He thrusts his hips against mine, making me gasp. "So good…so good" I pant. He's hard against me, and I press against him, work my body along the hard ridge of him. Beetee's worked my tunic up around my shoulders, and lowers his head to run his tongue along the line of my bra. I shift my weight so I can yank the fabric over my head and off.

"Good girl," he murmurs into my skin. "This too". He unhooks my bra. I push him away with a smile, take it all off. Now I have him to work on. He's very compliant, very willing to let me expose his body provided I cover each newly bare part with kisses. When I go to touch him, grasp his most intimate part, he shakes his head, pushes me back onto the bed. "I want to taste you right now." He smooths his hands over my body, kisses my hipbones.

"Mmm." I can't help making noise. He takes it as encouragement. He slides my legs apart, settles between them. He kisses my thighs and my hips, runs his hands closer to where I'd like him. He gently opens me with one finger, exposes me to his view. I find that I actually like being this vulnerable for him. It doesn't make much sense, but it's enjoyable to be passive, to know that he's enjoying himself without me doing anything. Paradoxically, it makes me feel powerful. The first touch of his tongue gives me goose bumps. It always does. I'm very wet, I feel him run a finger along me, easing the passage until he finally slips it inside me. I'm very eager, I can't stop moving my body up towards his mouth. His free hand travels my hips and stomach, soothing over my flushed skin, bracing me down so he's in control. He nuzzles at me for a moment, resting and breathing, before pushing forward more intensely than before. He feels so good, my Beetee. I can't think. I don't want to think. My hands have moved to my breasts without me paying attention, I'm playing with them, running the sensitive pads of my fingers over my nipples. There's nothing I need to do, need to think about except this. Except Beetee.

His tongue is everywhere, he doesn't miss a spot. He licks and laps and slurps and sucks and kisses, and I'm driven wild. "Beetee!" I shriek, I can't help myself when he makes me feel this way, I get loud. "Oh sparks, Bee, sparks! More, faster!" He does what I ask, pumping a second finger in and out of me while he sucks at my clit. My hands fall from my chest to grip the sheet, trying hard not to pull his hair and interfere. Oh. Hair pulling. Just that tiny thought sets me over the edge, coming hard, bearing down on his fingers. "Bee!" He keeps moving throughout my orgasm, I don't even know what he's doing, but it seems to last forever, wave after wave of golden sparkles settling in my body. He's gentle when I stop shaking, stroking me softly, nuzzling and cuddling so I don't feel suddenly empty.

"Hold me," I whisper. He's used to how I feel needy after coming. Sometimes I feel wonderful, like I could take on the whole world, and sometimes, like now, I practically feel like crying even though I'm not sad. He kisses my stomach as he crawls up the bed, pulling me into an embrace. I bury my face in his shoulder and breathe in deep. He smells so good.