A/N: It's been a long time between updates I know. Hopefully this slightly steamier one shot makes up for it. -Lu

"You're not doing it right."

Clove turned around, furious that someone was interrupting her training, and glared at Cato. "Excuse me?" she asked in an icy voice. He didn't seem to notice her signals, or if he did he chose to ignore them, because he walked lazily up to her.

"I said you're not doing it right. Your stance is off."

Clove laughed incredulously. He was telling her she wasn't throwing her knives right? "Uh huh, sure Cato," she said dismissively, turning back towards her target and lifting her knife again. What nerve did he think he had instructing her on knife throwing? She was the best in the academy. All Cato ever used was his stupid sword.

She almost dropped the knife she was holding when she felt his presence behind her, right behind her, and his fingers landing lightly on her hips. "What are you doing?" she exclaimed, trying to spin way from him, but he dug his fingers in and kept her firmly in place. "Cato wha-!"

"Shh be quiet," he ordered, lining his body up behind hers. She could feel his knee, nudge her thigh slightly as he positioned himself and she inhaled a sharp breath. Wildly Clove flicked her eyes around them but they were the only ones left in the training room. His hands splayed out across her hips and she tried not to shiver as his fingers ran across the sensitive skin over her hip bones. What was he doing? "You need to stand like this," he whispered in her ear and she jumped slightly at how close he was. She could feel his breath tickling the side of her neck. He pressed slightly with his left hand and she automatically took a tiny step back with her left leg. She hadn't had much room to go though and now her leg was pressing against his. She tried not to think about it but she could already feel a flush rising to her cheeks. She was just glad he couldn't see her face.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she said, kicking herself for the breathless tremor in her voice. Damn, she could practically sense his smug smile. It was enough to make her pull away from his hands grasped teasingly now on at her waist. Shaking off his lingering fingers she stepped away and turned to face him, hands on her hips and glaring at him furiously. "Why don't you go back to your little toy sword over there Cato," she sneered, indicating his impressive, gleaming weapon where he'd left it propped against a bench. He laughed and threw a casual glance at the sword but didn't seem inclined to move.

"You should listen to my advice little Clover," he teased. She gritted her teeth and balled her hands into fists at her side in attempt to keep from punching him. The only things stopping her were the fact that fighting outside of training was strictly prohibited and he could probably sweep her aside with a single blow. Still, as she ran her eyes over his taught, muscled body, she thought she could get in a few hits and jabs to sensitive places before he would knock her down. She missed the smug smile and glint in his piercing blue eyes as he watched her eyes running over his body. He crossed his arms, displaying the lean muscles underneath the bronzed skin of his arms. He was an impressive figure and he knew it. "Go on. Try it," he said, nodding towards the target.

Clove glared at him for a few more moments but he simply held her gaze, amusement tugging at his lips. Hissing out a breath between her teeth Clove spun away from him and faced the target. She lined up and went through the routine that was now as familiar as breathing. Lift, exhale, line, inhale, grip, exhale-

Just before she was about to release the blade she felt the jolt of his fingers on her body again. He had moved up behind her silently and was pulling slightly on the fabric of her shorts. "Leg back," he reminded lightly. Sullenly consenting Clove stepped her left leg back slightly, turning her body on a tiny angle to the target. Surely it couldn't hurt to humour him.

Trying to ignore his presence behind her she narrowed her eyes and refocused on the target. Her heart was beating rapidly against her ribs and its pounding was very distracting. Taking a deep breath she flicked her wrist back and flung the knife forward. In an instant it had landed with a satisfying thock into the very centre of the target. She had known before it landed it would find the centre and Clove lowered her arm, trying to hide her amazement. He had been right. It was more than the aim of the knife. Shifting her body slightly had given her even more control. She had felt it in the energy that coursed down her arm and into the blade, as if it was an extension of her own body, and she had known the second she released it that this was the most powerful throw she had even given.

A low, throaty chuckle behind her drew Clove from her wonder and she remembered with a sinking feeling that Cato's smugness would now be intolerable. She turned to face him and was surprised at how close he was- her shoulder brushed against his chest as she turned. She looked up at him with suspicious eyes. "How did you know that?" she demanded. She was angry with herself that Cato, of all people, had been able to outsmart her with knives. She hated being shown up and if there had been anyone else in the room she would have slashed him where he stood for embarrassing her in front of them. As it was she reigned in her anger, which allowed her curiosity to rise to the surface- curiosity and a prickling awareness of how close he was. It unnerved her.

Cato uncrossed his arms and slowly lowered them. Clove wondered if he deliberately brushed his hands against her stomach as he dropped his hands to his side. She didn't respond but determinedly kept her eyes on his. He shrugged casually and his eyes flicked sideways for a second before finding their way to hers. "You know who Rael is, of course?"

Clove rolled her eyes. "Best Victor with knives the District has ever seen. 38th Games. Head Trainer at Six West. Yes, duh." She listed off the credentials like she'd rote learnt them- which she had.

Cato's eyes flashed as her insolent tone but he nodded once. "My mother."

Unable to hide her surprise Clove's eyes widened. How had she never known that? When she was young she'd practically worshipped Rael, until she'd disappeared to the Capitol several years ago. "Your-?"

"Mother, yes," Cato continued sharply, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at her. Suddenly he looked defensive, tensed for something. What did he expect from her? Criticism, judgement, anger, pity? He was clearly expecting something. Clove's eyes flicked back and forth, studying his expression intently. She didn't want to fulfil whatever expectation he had of her- probably her pure defiant spite rising to the surface. So she turned away from him and looked back at the target. With nimble fingers she slipped another blade from her belt and lifted it to eye level. "

"Show me again?" she asked simply, studying the target intently but highly aware of his breathing behind her. She heard it hitch, as if in surprise, and then felt the prickle of her skin as he stepped closer, his body fitting against hers. A rush of heat spread through her body at the teasing press of his skin. Her own breath hitched as she felt light fingers land on her shoulders. Shivers wriggled their way down her limbs, causing the hand holding her knife to grip it tighter almost involuntarily, as his fingers brushed against her neck. It could almost have been an accident, the way they stroked along the line of her collarbone, brushing a loose strand of hair aside as they went. They stilled on the tips of her shoulders and gently placed pressure, drawing her back towards him.

Neither of them said a word this time as she let his touch guide her body closer towards him.