Maxxy checked his watch, and then looked back out the window of his living room, watching the street below. The sun had just set; Callista would be back soon. Knowing her, she'd likely just go to bed immediately, saying that she "needed the rest to get up early tomorrow." Gah, where had the fun-loving girl gone? It seemed like her life was nothing but work now.

But while she slept, he would be on the move. After spending an entire day watching tribute training footage, he was ready to strike. It had now been almost twenty-four hours since he had contacted the friend of the brother of the fiancee of the hairdresser of the colleague of his father. Or was it the friend of the sister? Either way, Thaddeus' father was in charge of the Avox cleaning crew, and he now had a way into the Tribute Center. He just had to make sure Callista wouldn't be suspicious of anything.

Below, a taxi pulled up beside the curb, and Callista got out, the stars in her hair reflecting light off the streetlamps. He hurried over to the sofa and turned on the television, as if he'd been watching when she entered. It was the same footage he'd seen all day—Districts One and Two had teamed up with Lazarus from Four, just like he'd seen that horrible day in as an "intern," while Mariam had spent most of her time away from the weapons, mostly hanging out with little Willow from Seven. In other news, Districts Ten and Eleven had also grouped up.

The front door opened. Time to act natural, as if he wasn't about to go out, he had no plans of sneaking in anywhere, and he definitely didn't have an Avox uniform stashed in a backpack in the closet by the front door.

"I'm home!" Callista called.

That wasn't normal—she usually came in silently. "Hey," Maxxy replied, "Did anything exciting happen today?"

She entered the room, a paper bag in her hand. "Not really. You already know all the interesting bits, but the looks of it."

"You'd expect the Gamemakers to get a more interesting view of the show…"

"I wish," she said, "It's a lot less interesting when you have to do all the data analysis."

Everything was going according to plan. "You gonna head off to bed already?"

"I don't think so." She tilted her head, a smile on her face.

Uh oh. "What's up?"

"Well…" she said, "I kinda felt bad about bossing you around yesterday, so I bought you a little something." She held the bag out towards him.

Oh gosh. The one night he needed her to go to sleep… He took the bag and opened it, pulling out a to-go box. It smelled heavenly, of his favorite taco place "Wow… thanks."

She smiled, kicking off her shoes and snuggling on the couch beside him. "You like it? I was thinking about how you complain that we never do anything together, so I thought we could get drinks and play games or something."

His heart sank. Yes— he really wanted to say yes… but it was tonight or never. "Umm… look…"

Her expression noticeably dimmed. "What's wrong?"

"I… I made plans earlier today to meet up with Thaddeus tonight," he said, "He's busy almost every day with deliveries; he's actually off tonight." It wasn't true, but it would work as long as he asked Thaddeus to cover for him.

She sighed. "Well then… That's fine, I guess."

He put an arm around her. "I'm so, so sorry. Why don't we… plan for tomorrow night?"

She nodded, getting off the couch. "That's fine," she said, clearly disappointed, "I guess I'll go to bed, then. Have fun with Thaddeus."

"Thanks so much for the food, though."

"It's nothing," she said, a weak smile on her face. "Goodnight."

He watched her retreat to the bedroom, and his gut wrenched. He ignored it. He could make up with her later. He wouldn't have a chance to investigate any other night. Right? After a few moments, the bathroom door clicked. It was safe to leave now. He slung the backpack on and took a taxi to the City Circle.

The Tribute Center was the tallest out of all the important buildings in the City Circle, and its thirteen-floor height dominated the view. During the day, its shimmering windows refracted light into rainbows that bathed the Circle, but at night, its unusual lack of lighting left it a dark looming colossus, a void in the lights that shone from every other building in the Capitol. Maxxy looked up at it as he exited the taxi outside a popular pizza joint in the Circle. Up five floors, his target was likely eating dinner, or prepping for the next day, or even sleeping.

He assimilated into the crowd that always hung around the Circle, and he slowly wove his way into a back alley, which he took to loop around to the back of the Tribute Center. A car was parked in the tiny lot behind the Center, where the cleaning entrance was.

"Hey," Maxxy whispered, waving.

The man—Thaddeus' cousin, it seemed like—shone a flashlight into his eyes. "You're not going to get far dressed like that."

"May I change in the car?"

The man gave him a grunt that apparently signified approval since the man opened the car door for him. Quickly, Maxxy slipped out of his regular clothes and into the gray jumpsuits worn by cleaning Avoxes. He had been careful to not wear any kind of makeup when he left the house, so nothing needed to be done to his face. The only thing remaining was his hair, which he simply covered with a bald cap. As far as he knew, Avoxes weren't given proper haircuts and had to cut the hair themselves, so being bald shouldn't raise suspicions.

When he stepped out, the man inspected him head to toe. "You should be fine. Remember not to talk. I don't want to lose my job over this."

Maxxy nodded. The man used a key to unlock a hinged box by the door, which held a keypad. He typed in a code, which opened up a lock on the door, which another key unlocked.

"I'd normally use my fingerprint, but I'd rather use the identity-less way for this," the man explained.

Maxxy nodded. "Thanks."

"Now quit jabbering and get in there. If anything happens to you, I don't know you."

Maxxy stepped into a huge stairwell, barely illuminated by dull lights. It was nothing like the normally bright and cheery surfaces of the Capitol. He'd heard that Districto sectors of the Capitol sometimes looked like this, but this would never pass in any of the communities he frequented.

The door slammed behind him, making him jump. He pressed his ear to the door, and he heard the faint purr of the car as the man left. There was no going back now.

Where to begin? In front of him was a door, with a large "G" painted on it. The ground floor, where there was a large open area for the horses after the tribute parade and the reception lobby for tourists during the off-season. There wouldn't be anyone there now, though. The stairs leading up would get him to the tribute and mentor quarters, but would he be able to blend in? There were Avoxes in there, but those wore red robes—servant Avoxes. Cleaning Avoxes weren't allowed in there until after the tributes left for the Games.

That left the stairs going down, to where the Training Center was. It'd be the only place for a cleaning Avox to be. It was at this moment that he realized he had no plan of attack or any idea what to do. He could leave, but then where would he go? Back to Callista to kiss and make up?

He tiptoed down the stairs, trying not to touch the filthy, rusted railing. There was a stairwell that tributes could use, but there was no way that this was that one.

There was the sound of water below him—a faucet? He peeked over the railing, where he caught a glimpse of the gray robe of another cleaning Avox. Perfect—that'd be his key into the Training Room. He crept down the stairs until he was right behind the Avox—a short, middle-aged stick of a woman with skin so bad she had to be from the Districts—who was filling a mop bucket from a spigot in the wall. There were two doors on this bottom layer of the stairwell, an open one that clearly was a closet full of cleaning supplies and a close one with a "T" painted on it—T for Training.

Without warning, he grabbed the Avox' arms and held them behind her back. To her credit, she didn't scream—Avoxes were trained to always stay quiet. She twisted her head back, and he stared right into her confused eyes.

"Don't worry," he whispered.

Her eyes widened in shock. He was supposed to be an Avox, and Avoxes didn't talk.

"If you listen to me, I'm not going to hurt you. Understand?"

The woman nodded.

"I'm going to have to tie you up in the closet."

The woman's eyes narrowed, but she didn't resist as he led her into the closet. When he took one hand off of her to grab the extension wires that hung from the walls, she jerked her hands free, shoving him to the ground.

No! Somehow, he'd expected her to play along. He couldn't let her go get the Peacekeepers. He grabbed at her, pulling her weak frame down. She jabbed at him, but he managed to roll on top of her and sit on her. Her malnourished body had no chance against his. He took the extension cord and tied her hands behind her back. For good measure, he tied her feet together too.

Now where was the key? He patted her down, and he pulled a key card out of a pocket.

"Thank you," he whispered, getting to his feet. "I'll make sure someone comes to find you here." With that, he shut the closet door.

The mop was now his cover. He'd never used one in his life, but he'd seen enough shows to know that you dipped the mop into the bucket before you spread the soapy water all over the floor. If anyone happened to go by, they wouldn't suspect anything.

He put the mop in the bucket and rolled it over to the door, which he opened using the key card. The red light on the scanner turned green, and the lock clicked. He was in. However, when he opened the door, there were voices. He froze, listening.

First was a male voice. "…I don't know."

Splashes. It was from the swimming pool.

Then a female voice. "Come on. Don't you see?"

They had to be tributes—mentors had their own places to go. He rolled the bucket forward, following the voices.

"I don't think they'll respond well to this." It was the male voice. "And I'm not going to risk myself for you."

"Then I'll talk to them tomorrow." The female voice. "Things don't have to be the way they are."

"Mariam…"

Maxxy froze again. Mariam? By the gods, Lady Luck had shone her face on him. She'd come down to where he was! He rolled forward with the bucket much more aggressively now, rounding the corner to where the voices were coming from. In the dim, blue lighting, he saw the swimming pool, a shallow, four-foot pool that stretched for about twenty-five yards.

Mariam Soo sat on the edge of the pool, kicking her feet in the water. Her sleek, black hair flowed down in perfect waves that lapped past her shoulders. Beneath her in the water, Lazarus was swimming laps. She genuinely looked beautiful, not in the way a Capitol model did but exuding a natural freedom.

She turned around, and he quickly pulled the mop out of the bucket, swishing it back and forth, spreading water all over the floor. Somehow, it felt all wrong—mopping usually didn't create a flood. She laughed and got up, ambling towards him. His legs began to wobble as she watched him, a warm smile on her face.

"Are you new?" she said. Gosh, her already lovely voice felt more magical when she spoke to him.

He almost replied aloud, but he caught himself and simply nodded. She was the target. He'd have to be careful to avoid being drawn into her traps.

She laughed—a laugh that sounded like music. "I can tell. You're using the mop wrong."

He looked at the mop and then back at her.

"You're supposed to squeeze the water out before you clean the floor."

He stared at the press attached to the bucket and blushed.

"Can't you talk?"

He shook his head.

Her eyes grew wide as realization dawned. "You're— an Avox, aren't you."

He looked away in feigned shame and nodded.

"I'm so, so sorry," she said. She reached out and lifted his head until he was staring back at her. "I won't judge you for that."

Something about the compassion in her eyes warmed him to his core, even if he wasn't an Avox or a janitor or unable to speak. He smiled, but then his stomach twisted. Her magic was working on him too. He looked into her eyes again, and the disturbing aura sent a shiver down his spine. How could everything be so right and so wrong at the same time?

His expression must have changed because Mariam frowned, but before she could say anything, Lazarus was calling. "We have to go back up. We promised that we wouldn't stay too late."

She sighed. "You take care, okay?"

Maxxy nodded with a friendly smile, and she left with Lazarus, her hair rippling like the waves of the ocean with every step. Inside, the alarms rang louder than a tornado siren. Mariam's aura was kind, and warm, and almost fierce, but… but…

But what? Why did it rub him the wrong way? Nothing made sense. He quickly backtracked, leaving the training room, sliding the key card underneath the closet door, replacing the mop and bucket, heading up the stairs, changing back into his regular outfit—taking a scrap piece of paper and leaving a note on the doorstep to check the janitor closet.

Was he in love with her? No, there was nothing romantic about the way she stood out to him (not if Callista had anything to say about it). But then what was it?

His brain hurt. Thinking was too much work, and he'd earned some rest with his nighttime escapade. When he returned home, he went to bed as quickly as possible. But even snuggled in beside Callista, safe in the privacy of his own home, Mariam's piercing black eyes seemed to find him, boring holes into his soul.

A/N: I still only have one submission for Premonition. This story should be done in a few days, now that my finals are over. Please submit and end my suffering of waiting for tributes.