Prim looked remarkably calm. Certainly a lot calmer than Peeta felt. At least, she wasn't letting it spoil her appetite. Calling Prim underweight would be generous. In the Arena, she'd be up against people with actual muscle. People with enough calories to have endurance.

So will I. Peeta realized suddenly, and he started collecting a plate too.

Prim was lost, staring at the elaborate food. More food than she'd ever seen in one place. Probably more food than she'd eaten in her whole short life put together.

"Nice pin." Peeta said to his fellow Tribute finally.

"It's a Mockingjay." Prim looked down at the gold pin on her lapel. "A gift, from Madge. I've never had jewellery before. Madge thought I should take it as my District Token."

Peeta nodded absently. "Where is Haymitch?"

Effie was filing her nails. "He'll be in. He always..." Her eyes flicked to Prim. "He needs a little longer when the Tributes are younger."

"He's supposed to be training us." Prim groused. "Effie, you've been on this ride before: Is there any chance of him being sober?"

"Haymitch always stays sober during the Games, and stays as drunk as possible the other fifty weeks a year." Effie sighed hard. "I like to think it's my influence that keeps him level; and I've been tempted to make sure he doesn't drink afterwards; but really: Who could be expected to deal with that full-time?" She gestured at the table. "Remember to use the silverware, little darlings. The last Tributes had the table manners of apes."

Prim scowled at Effie, and Peeta suddenly saw the resemblance to her sister. "What are Apes?" He asked Effie.

"Doesn't matter." Prim rose. "I'm going to find Haymitch."

"I'll go." Peeta said quickly. "He may not be decent."

Prim gave him a hard look. "Katniss says that Haymitch can only get one of us back, at most. She says he'll pick his favorite pretty quick."

Peeta felt a thrill of disgust go through him. "Probably true, but I promise, I'm not trying to win favor. He's probably too loaded to notice anyway."

"Hmph." Effie agreed. "Get him in here. We have a schedule!"

Nobody in District Twelve enjoyed following the Games. The Games were required viewing in the Districts, but that was a matter of the Screens being hardwired to stay on during the Games. The Preliminaries weren't as Mandatory.

But in the Everdeen Household, all eyes were glued to the Screen this year.

"I cannot stand the Parades." Katniss commented sickly. "Is there a prize for decorating the prettiest human sacrifice?"

"Yup." Gale nodded. "The Stylists for the winner get their own Label. A famous Label gets all kinds of prizes. To say nothing of fame, to carry the business later on."

"They're animals." Katniss declared profoundly.

"Yes, but animals with their own Pack Rules." Gale nodded. "Remember, when you're hunting Predators, you never start with the Alpha."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, it looks like Peeta knows how to work the crowd to his advantage." Her mother answered before Gale could. "He and Prim need their crumbs right now. A suit of flames and light was enough to get people throwing roses to Prim. Right now I'm in favor of anything that keeps her alive. Even if it comes from Them."

Katniss had no answer to that.

Long silence.

"It was an impressive outfit, though." Gale said finally.

"...yeah."

There were three days of training, full time. The Training Centre passed in a blur. Peeta tried to soak as much of it in as she could. Prim was ahead of the field on edible and medicinal plants. Peeta was top of the charts on camouflage. But that wasn't enough to get the Career Pack interested.

Otherwise, it passed in snapshots; day-by-day.

Day One:

"Okay, Prim. Remember what Haymitch said. Don't show your whole skill-set."

"Haymitch didn't say anything to me. I think he's picked his favorite."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"Katniss says Haymitch can only save one of us, so I have to save myself."

"Well… tell you what, anything Haymitch teaches me, I'll teach you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Day Two:

"Where's Prim?"

"In the Training Centre, with Rue. The two of them have adopted each other somewhat."

"Mm. The young ones always do."

"Katniss was right; wasn't she, Haymitch? You have written Prim off. That's not fair!"

"None of this is fair, kid. Figure that out. In seventy four Games, only one twelve-year-old has lived to reach the final eight, let alone win."

"I'm not ready to write her off just yet."

"You will be."

Day Three:

"Haymitch, Tributes aren't allowed to fight outside the Arena, right?"

"Right."

"What about... other stuff?"

"Keep your eyes in your head and your zipper shut, boy."

"Not me. Cato and Glimmer. They're from different Districts, but this morning? He came off the elevator with her. The elevators are glass. We all saw it: He was on her floor last night. You should see them in the Training Centre. She does everything short of a lapdance when they're paired together."

"They're eighteen years old, hyper-fit, about to risk their lives; and looking for ways to manipulate each other into temporary trust. Districts One and Two always ally. If Glimmer's looking for a way to get Cato to stick with her, even within the Career Pack; she may get her wish… But Alliances never last. Trust me, when the herd thins out, they won't be sentimental. Now. Scores of Seven and Eight? We can work with that. Let's talk about the Interviews."

"Where's Prim?"

"With Effie. She gets you this afternoon. She'll tell you how to speak, so all we have to figure out is what you're going to say."

Even Katniss was yawning as they waited out the rest of the Interviews. The Audience was restless by the time they got anywhere near the District Twelve Tributes. She sent Gale a look. It's not fair. If Prim has to dance for their crumbs, she should have as much chance as anyone, but she's always at the end of every list.

Gale read her look and set his mouth, just so. Of course it's unfair. We're District Twelve. Ass-End of Panem.

They'd been so close for so long it was near telepathy. Which was good, because they dared not say any of these things out loud in front of her Mother.

"You can see Effie's work." Gale offered during Prim's Interview. "The way she's sitting, the posture, the smile on her face…"

"Yeah." Katniss said quietly. "She looks… like a Princess. She'd never have anything half that pretty to wear in Twelve if she saved up her whole life."

Peeta was backstage, watching Prim but not really hearing her. She was still wearing her sunny, optimistic smile. Haymitch and Effie had settled on 'likeable' as her persona. Something that Prim excelled at. Peeta glanced out at the audience. They were all smiling at her. The audience had been here for hours, and the Capitol was famous for short attention spans, but Prim had them charmed.

"So, Prim…" Ceaser kept the interview moving. "Tell me about the Reaping. We all saw someone trying to volunteer after your name was called."

"My big sister." Prim nodded. "The other Tributes should count their lucky stars that they don't let you Volunteer after the names are called. If Katniss was sitting here right now, the other Tributes wouldn't have a hope." She sent a winning glance back at the Curtain, where Peeta was standing, just backstage. "Well… Maybe one of them would."

Peeta flushed. As far as he knew, nobody had told Prim about his farewell to Katniss, but if Gale and Madge had been able to hear through the door, why not Prim as well?

Ceaser beamed. "Think you can do the same?"

"In some ways, I might do better." Prim promised. "My mom's the apothecary in town; so when people are hurt; they come to our house. Katniss never liked to see people suffer. That's why she aims so straight. Quick and clean."

"Think you can do the same?"

"Probably not. I'm not quite as good a shot as Katniss. I'm guessing it'll be far more slow and painful coming from me." Prim ducked her head adorably after she said that, as though a little embarrassed at her attempt to be dangerous. The crowd actually 'awwed' at her little-kid moment.

"Ooh. Don't count this one one out, Panem!" Ceaser laughed it up.

Peeta's eyes flicked to the other Tributes on stage. Most of them were slouching, waiting for it to be over. Cato's head was turned towards the rest of the row. His posture said that he was studying his opponents, but from his position at the curtain, Peeta could see Cato's eyes were glued to Glimmer's curves. The eighteen year old beauty was very aware of it, using the row of Tributes in front of her as cover as she swayed her hips a little for him. Her handlers has dressed her in the most devastatingly sexy outfit an eighteen year old girl could wear.

Think she's really interested, or just playing him? Peeta wondered. Or is he playing her?

Then the buzzer went off, and Prim waved brightly to the crowd as she made her way to the rest of the Tributes.

Peeta was called to the stage. The cheering was… perfunctory. Polite. The Capitol had no filter, and would screech for anything shiny, but they were getting ready to go home for the night. Peeta started with a routine about the bathrooms; and all the buttons and options. It was true; he'd never had options when it came to washing up before.

There was laughter from the audience, and Ceaser jumped right into the Banter; but it wasn't enough.

"So, Peeta…" Ceaser got to the meat of the interview. "Any ideas on strate-"

"Actually, Ceaser…" Peeta interrupted. "I was wondering if I could ask you a small favor?"

"For our honored Tributes? Anything."

"Well, Ceaser, for days now, I've been going around and around with my stylists, my trainers, with Haymitch... All of them have ideas about how to 'present' me to Panem. You think anyone would mind if I just... told them a story?"

"Oh, we love stories here, Peeta. But only the best."

"Would I come on your show with anything less?"

The audience laughed at their banter, enjoying him.

Peeta actually stood up, and took a step to the edge of the stage, putting their eyes on him. "One day, I was out walking with my father. I was five years old, and he points out this girl my age with brown hair. It was just before she and I started school. My dad tells me that he knows the girl, through her mother. In fact, he was madly in love with her, once upon a time." He glanced at the cameras. "Dad, sorry to do this in front of everyone, but I'm safely here in the Capitol, away from mom; so I finally get to tell someone this story."

Laughter from the audience.

"So I asked my father what happened, and my dad tells me that this girl he loved ran off with a Miner from the Seam." Peeta smiled at the memory. "Now, there's no reason you should understand that, but even at five years old, I wondered why anyone would pick a Seam Coal Miner over my dad. Twelve isn't exactly prosperous, but we have have a relatively 'wealthy' side of town, just like everywhere else."

His voice was sentimental, the pacing perfect. No Tribute had ever told a story like this. No Tribute had ever crafted a narrative at all, beyond the Games. This was something new; and the audience was coming around, interested. Even the other Tributes, assembled on the stage, were listening. Prim had a funny look on her face, like she was trying to place this story.

"So I asked my dad 'why did she marry a miner, if she could have had you?'. And my dad, he says 'Whenever the Man sings, even the birds stop to listen'." Peeta chuckled. "I didn't buy it. Nobody sings that well. Not enough for true love."

Peeta looked to Prim, holding her surprised gaze for a perfect beat. She knew who he meant; and with him looking at her, the cameras had clocked her reaction; so everyone in Panem saw it too.

Peeta looked back to Ceaser. "Later on, the whole class is assembled, and I notice the brown haired girl is in my music class. The Teacher asks 'who knows the Valley Song?' and her hand shoots up. She goes up to the front of the class and starts to sing… and I feel the floor open up under my feet. I suddenly get what her mother saw in a Coal Miner I'd never heard of, because after three notes; all the birds outside have gone silent, and I'm falling hard." He chuckled ruefully. "I've been falling ever since." He looked back at Ceaser directly. "I was a goner. Five years old, and just… knew. I always knew. I've spent my life always knowing exactly where that girl with the voice of a Mockingjay was. And I never told her."

"Never?" Ceaser couldn't help but ask. "For eleven years? Good looking kid like you, I find that hard to believe."

"Ceaser, I'm twenty hours from the Arena. There's no place in my world for pretty lies any more." Peeta smiled, sitting back down. "It was a near thing, but she came to see me after the Reaping. And I finally told her how I felt. I've been wanting to scream it from the rooftops since kindergarten." He reached out and clasped Ceaser's hand. "Thank you so much, Ceaser. Rooftops weren't enough anymore. Not compared to your show."

"You know something, Handsome? You win this thing, and she couldn't possibly turn you down." Ceaser beamed at him. "I mean it, she's watching right now; and you better believe she'll be cheering you on the whole way."

"No, she won't." Peeta said softly, pausing for the perfect beat. "She'll be cheering for her little sister."

There was a gasp from the audience that sucked every bit of air and sound from the entire studio. Everyone looked to Prim, who had tears in her eyes, and a perfect smile of sentiment on her lips. Peeta had somehow brought Katniss on stage and made the Capitol see an object of tragic unrequited love.

"Well. That is, indeed... unfortunate." Ceaser said finally, caught completely off guard.

"I guess the odds just weren't in our favor." Peeta agreed, and he checked the clock. Ceaser could end the interview here. There had been twenty four interviews. The audience was loving the story, but ready to leave... "But if you'll indulge me one moment more, Ceaser, I would like to say thank you... to the audience. To the Capitol. Because as much as I would give my life, and my last breath to give Katniss her sister home safe, I know that I never would have had the nerve to tell Katniss how I felt if I hadn't known it would be my last goodbye." He turned to the crowd, both hands over his heart, sentimental smile that he'd practised in the mirror for over an hour. "That fear has been haunting me since longer than I can remember, and I finally conquered it. I think that anyone who's ever been afraid to admit unrequited love can relate to that. And now I am free." He looked over the crowd, settling on the people who were looking him in the eye, just an instant with each of them, making them feel it. "And if this place should be the last thing I see, I want you to know it was worth it just for that. Thank you all. Thank you all so much."

There wasn't a dry eye in the house. The Capitol always had their favorites, but this was the first time a Tribute had ever 'picked the audience' as a favorite, instead of the other way around. All of a sudden, the crowd wasn't eager to go home. There was a sentimental moment, and then a roar of applause and approval that brought the entire auditorium to their feet.

Peeta waved, blew kisses to them, and wandered over to the other Tributes. Prim jumped down from her place without hesitation and ran to Peeta, hugging him tightly. He didn't hesitate to hug her right back. An image that went around Panem instantly.

Ceaser ate it up. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, PEETA MELLARK!"

Katniss had sunk so far into her chair that she had nearly fallen out of it. Her mother was blatantly gawping at her. "I... I didn't-"

"Katniss, do you have any idea what just happened?" Her mother breathed. "Our girl might actually be in with a shot."

"Mm." Gale grunted. Nothing more than that.

It was the night before the Games began, and nobody could sleep. Peeta was heading up to the roof, when a small voice called him back. "Peeta?"

He turned, and saw Prim at the doorway to her room. "Hey. How do you like your room?"

"It's a palace, compared to what I had at home." Prim admitted. "But I'd still rather be there."

"Me too."

Prim held up a piece of paper, folded tightly. "I wrote a letter to Katniss. You think Haymitch will deliver it for me, when…"

"I hope so. Because I wrote one too." Peeta admitted.

Prim gave him a winning smile. "So, I guess we have a few hours…" She swept the empty room with her gaze, as though there were a hundred people there. "Does anyone know the words to the Valley Song?"

Peeta blushed. "I should have warned you I was going to do that."

"Why did you do that?" Prim asked. "Being honest with Katniss is one thing. Why make it a national story?"

Peeta bit his lip. "I'm not a killer, Prim. Cato; you saw him? He's eager for it. We're not… We aren't going to win this thing by being worse than everyone else."

"We aren't going to win this thing at all." Prim reminded him. "Only one Victor goes home."

"I know." Peeta admitted. "But The Arena is a big sacrificial slab. For them, entertainment is to see us carved up for parts. My fear is that if I go home, I'll have to leave the best parts of me behind in the Arena; and I won't be me anymore. I don't want to go home if it means I have to be Cato to do it."

"I get that. But what does that have to do with my sister?" Prim asked.

"I don't really know how to say it." Peeta admitted. "But I feel like the only way to protect my heart and soul is if I give them to the entire Capitol before I get anywhere near the Arena. I give them the heart of me now, completely… Once we're in there, the rest is just… Keeping on going as I have." Peeta shrugged. "If Katniss knows, it keeps me honest. If everyone knows, they will too."

Prim shook her head. "Is this one of those things I'm supposed to understand when I get older?"

Peeta laughed. "I hope so, because I look forward to figuring it out too." He looked back at the door, and closed it. "Hey, how'd you like some hot chocolate?"

"Sounds nice." Prim admitted. "But Haymitch says I should sleep."

"He said the same thing to me. You think he believes either of us will?"

Prim looked at her feet for a moment. "Cinna gave me some hot chocolate. He said if I ever have it again, to add mini-marshmallows." She looked awkwardly at Peeta. "I don't know what those are."

"Me neither." Peeta grinned. "But I bet we can get a truckload of them delivered here immediately if we asked."

Prim couldn't help a small smile spreading across her face.

The next morning, Peeta was met by Portia, who helped him into his 'uniform'. Haymitch came in as he dressed, with his perma-scowl on his face. "I guess I have you to thank for the two hundred pounds of mini-marshmallows that arrived at my room at 3AM last night?"

Peeta chuckled. "Prim and I decided to have a little fun before the Games began."

"Sure, because you really want all three of us to be sleep-deprived for this." Haymitch groused, looking over the uniform. "Good boots… Warm jacket. Expect some cold nights."

"Mm." Peeta agreed. "Fits better than anything I've ever worn. The boots are so perfect I don't think I'll even have to break them in. Think they'll let me keep it after?"

"Trust me, kid; you won't ever want to look at it again." Haymitch told him. "Remember, avoid the bloodbath at the start. Go for distance first. Find water. If you're unsure about food, don't eat it. If you want to make sure, watch what the other Tributes, and the other animals eat. It's not a certainty, but it's about 90% accurate."

Peeta nodded. "Portia, give me a sec?"

His Stylist nodded and stepped out.

Peeta gave Haymitch a look. "I just... I know most people have written us off, but you've taken us seriously. Thank you, for that."

Haymitch held out a hand flat. Just the tiniest tremble. "Three days, not a drop. I promise, I'll stay sober till this is over. As sober as I can before I start to get the shakes, anyway."

"It hasn't gone unnoticed. But... Haymitch, there's one last thing we need to discuss." Peeta said seriously. "I know you can only get one of us back alive, and… I want it to be her."

Haymitch glowered at him. "You think the odds are in her favor?"

"The odds aren't in any of our favors, or we wouldn't be here." Peeta said simply. "But I want Prim home safe."

Haymitch stared at hima long moment, calculating something, before realization hit; and he almost laughed. "Ohh… it wasn't an act, was it? The whole interview? You were serious!"

"I am serious." Peeta said evenly. "Prim goes home to Katniss."

"Look, straight up: That's never going to happen." Haymitch told him seriously. "You made a huge splash at the interviews, and all the Career Pack have been sending their handlers to feel me out about your position on Alliance. The reason is…"

"They know I'll have sponsors."

"You made some noise, you got some love. But nobody bets on the guy from Twelve. It just doesn't happen. They'll use your sponsors to get things, then cut you apart once the gifts arrive."

Peeta bit his lip. "Then my best bet of helping Prim is to join the pack until the field thins out."

"Look, kid…" Haymitch looked at him hard. "You want some mentoring advice? Stay alive, and find a girl who won't hate you for it. You win this thing, you'll have them beating the door down. You're my best shot in twenty three years to have company on the ride home. You win this thing, you'll learn fast how good a feeling that is. I've never had company on the ride home. Not once. Don't throw it away for a girl who, quite frankly, seems about as cuddly as an avalanche."

"Promise me that you'll send Prim whatever you can." Peeta said fiercely.

"I promise." Haymitch said with a sigh.

Peeta said nothing. He knew the old man was lying.

Next stop was the hovercraft. The Med-Tech implanted his tracker. "Cinna? What are you doing here?"

Cinna gave Peeta a practised look, and made an adjustment here and there to the uniform. "Portia felt that Prim might be more comfortable if a woman walked her in. She is twelve years old, after all."

"I guess that makes sense." Peeta let out a hard breath.

"Don't let the numbers intimidate you, Peeta." Cinna said warmly. "The average Victor engages four times or so. The wildcards? They can make it to the endgame with only two confrontations. Sometimes less."

"Cato's the problem." Peeta thought aloud. "He likes it. I've seen guys like him, in Peacekeeper uniforms. The ones that enjoy inflicting brutality."

Cinna nodded. "Try to avoid him."

"Are you kidding?" Peeta scoffed. "He's the whole point. Maybe the whole point of the entire Hunger Games, from the first Arena ever built."

Cinna blinked. "How so?"

"Cato likes to kill." Peeta said simply. "He's an eager piece in the Game. In a very unusual way, he's my only hope." He stepped onto the round platform, and held out a hand to Cinna. "Before I go, I just wanted to say thank you. For everything you've done, everything you've tried to do. It's… Most people have written off the Tributes from Twelve, year after year. You didn't. Thank you for that."

"I have faith, Storyteller." Cinna said with a grin. "Don't you ever forget that."

And with that, the plex came down between them.

The Arena was a nice meadow on one side, a lake on the other, with endless forest around the outside. Peeta couldn't see the end of the trees.

Katniss would love it here.

Peeta scanned. The other Tributes were in a semi-circle. Prim was furthest away from him. Peeta scanned the area between them and the Cornucopia. Haymitch was right. It was usually a bloodbath there. All the weapons were assembled in the Cornucopia, lined up in neat, orderly patterns.

The meadow was full of packs and other gear, laid out in rings. The inner rings were weapons and survival gear. The outer rings were more varied.

Find a source of water. Peeta reminded himself of Haymitch's advice. There were only three canteens that he could see, all on the outer ring of packs. The lake was behind him.

"Let the 74th Annual Hunger Games Begin!"

The Countdown was almost inaudible, over the roaring in his ears. This is it.

This is it, Katniss thought.

"I thought Gale would be here." Mrs Everdeen commented.

Katniss was so close to the screen she was almost crawling into it. "He will be. He figures if people just stopped watching, the Games would stop too."

"You think that's likely?"

"I'd be happy to never watch another Games in my life." Katniss growled, eyes glued to Prim on the screen.

And the countdown finished. The Games were on, and Prim was running.

Peeta had snatched one of only three packs that held a Canteen, and run for the trees. The cannon had gone off a few times already. Prim had been at the opposite end of the row, which meant he would have to circle around a long way to find her again.

Peeta had been strategizing since his name was called at the Reaping. All of his plans suddenly seemed so fragile when actually in the trees.

He checked his pack. The canteen was empty.

Gale entered the Everdeen residence reluctantly. Mrs Everdeen waved him in. Katniss barely noticed him.

"Go back to Prim, dammit." Katniss hissed. Buttercup, coiled in the box Prim had made for him, hissed back at her reflexively.

"They'll put the cameras on Prim when there's something worth watching." Gale told her. "If she's not on screen, she's safe enough to not be sufficiently entertaining for them."

Half a day passed. Peeta kept walking. Find a source of water.

Peeta looked up at the chiming sound, and found the silver parachute floating down to him.

A Sponsor Gift? So soon? Peeta thought, surprised. Was there something at the Cornucopia that I didn't get? Is Haymitch trying to tell me something?

It was a small packet of water purification tablets; and a large piece of paper, wrapped around a flat pencil. The paper was marked, with a circle drawn, almost to the borders of the paper. Within the circle were small blue blotches; shaped and spread irregularly.

Peeta bit his lip. The Sponsors could send tactical gifts, but not instructions. Sending food and medicine was simple; but other tools took some deduction. The pencil indicated that Peeta needed to add something to the paper. But what?

"So, anything interesting?"

Peeta spun and found Clove and Cato right behind him. He bolted, and ran almost straight to Glimmer's waiting sword. They had him circled; six of them, crowing and laughing. One look at Cato, and peeta knew: The Tributes that were interested in Alliance did not include Cato. The Boy from Two was going to kill him, and enjoy it.

And with a flash of insight, Peeta realized what Haymitch had sent him, and why. He's seeing this on TV. He knew the Career Pack was about to get me.

"Well, Loverboy." Cato smirked. "I'll send your girlfriend your regrets when I'm on my Victory Tour. Maybe I'll invite her to dinner, just for the hell of it!" He drew a wickedly curved blade, and raised it high to slash Peeta's face clean off-

"I can find water." Peeta put in swiftly.

Cato froze, calculating. The blade hovered, halfway to Peeta's face.

"Don't have any water canteens, do you?" Peeta said, and he started working things out as he spoke; trying to catch up his words with his thoughts. "The Cornucopia was nothing but weapons and food. You were looking at the centre items. I was looking at the outer edge. The bags with canteens? I only saw three. I've got one. Rue got another. The red haired girl got the third one, but mine was empty. I'm betting they all were. I'm betting that was the balance. Outer ring of gear got the water bottles; so those that didn't stay close for the bloodbath are the only ones that can carry a drink."

Clove made the point by picking up Peeta's canteen. Sure enough, it was empty.

"Why should I believe you can find water, when you clearly haven't found any?" Cato mocked him.

Peeta, moving slowly, held up the paper, and then the pencil. Without a word, Peeta smoothed the page flat, and started sketching with the pencil. Thin lines, close together, sure as a printed page. He didn't have to erase or try again. After a few moments, Peeta had filled in a section.

"It's a map." Clove said, surprised. "But how are you filling it in?"

Peeta pointed at the section he'd drawn. "This is the path I've taken."

"Elevation, landmarks…" Marvel examined the map. "You have it all committed to memory after one walk?"

"I'm good with those kinds of details." Peeta said honestly.

"He scored 100/100 for camouflage skills and detail observation." Clove put in to Cato. "Pretty high on Orienteering, too."

"A map is practically a painting." Peeta said, as though it explained everything. "The blue marks on the map? For water? They're there already. Just none of the places in between."

"So why do we need you?" Cato pressed.

Peeta held out the pencil and map without a word; daring him to take it. Everyone knew there was no way they could fill in the map accurately. Not as well as Peeta had shown them.

Cato glared. "Take us to water."

"No." Peeta said.

Cato jabbed him with the point of the sword. Just enough to break the skin. "I wasn't asking."

"And I'm not offering." Peeta stood firm and held up the pencil. "I can find water, and I will. But my price is membership in the Alliance. Without me, you don't last two days on a hunt. At least a few of the other Tributes know to avoid the lake; and they have Canteens. Without a canteen, you can't leave the lake. Without knowing where to find water as you go, you can't hunt them down."

Cato looked around carefully, as if weighing up the options. "We can just kill you and take the Canteen back to the lake."

"One canteen for six people? I see Survival Rations." Peeta countered, gesturing at the supplies they were carrying. "Pretty dry eating. You either find alternate food, or wash those meal bars down with something."

Cato and Glimmer traded a look.

"You were all going to have to deal with each other eventually." Peeta pushed.

Everyone in the Career Pack suddenly twitched. This was the unspoken secret of Alliance, but nobody said it out loud this soon. Everyone's hands drifted to weapons; getting position on each other, which gave Peeta some space.

Peeta kept his eyes on Cato. "You've already numbered them, right? You've already decided which ones matter, and in which order they're expendable; for when the numbers dwindle. Or have you prioritized them by how dangerous they are? The biggest risk to keep alive? I saw you in the interview. You don't need the help of people deadlier than you. Either way, give me the lowest man's spot in the team; and I'll lead you to water."

And Cato's eyes flicked straight to Marvel; the male Tribute from District One. He pointed his eyes back to Peeta instantly, aware that he'd tipped his hand, but too late.

Marvel read the glance instantly. "You miserable sack of-" He lunged at Cato, daggers flashing.

Cato met him halfway; and the battle was on. The blades flashed fast between them, and a quick splash of red followed. Peeta watched Cato the whole time. He put it all into the opening strike. It was a slash that was meant to kill right away. And it worked. Marvel dropped to his knees, clutching at the lifeblood that ran from his throat.

"Now." Cato told Peeta, licking his blade clean. "Let's go to water."

Marvel hadn't even fallen down yet, as the pack left him. They were twenty feet away before the Cannon went off.

"You see that?" Gale pointed at the screen. "Peeta was watching Cato's feet."

"What does that mean?" Katniss' mother asked.

Katniss nodded sagely. "It's what we do when hunting Deer. If their feet are right, they know you're there and they're ready to leap before you can draw the bow. If their feet are a different way, they're relaxed; and you can hit them before they can move."

"Peeta knows to watch for that?" Her mother mused. "What do you think?"

"I think… Cato fights like an executioner." Katniss decided. "One slash, move on. If Marvel had been able to survive that first strike, I have no idea what would have happened next, because Cato sure didn't. It's like Cato doesn't think it's possible for someone to survive his first lunge."

"Nobody has yet." Gale pointed out. "He's eighteen. He went from polite conversation to homicide in less time than it took Marvel to put his fists up." He glowered at the screen. "If Cato had aimed an inch higher, Marvel never would have known what hit him. Cato picked a blow that was fatal, but made Marvel suffer while he died."

"Cato's a Career. Spent his life preparing for this, wanting this, fighting for this. He's living his dream right now, and his dream is to kill twenty three people who are younger than him; then dine out on the story for the rest of his life." Katniss shook her head. "But if Peeta can avoid starving to death, he might be a contender."

Her mother looked over. "How so?"

Gale said it for her. "Wrestling. He took it up when his older brothers started tormenting him. Peeta's wrassled guys bigger and stronger than him since he was twelve years old. Came in second place last year, during the school competition."

"You should see him tossing those huge sacks of flour around at the bakery." Katniss added. "What do they weigh? Fifty pounds? A hundred?"

Gale twitched. "Didn't know you were watching."

Katniss gave him a look. "I… Spent some time around the bakery a few years ago, trying to work up the nerve to go inside. This was back before we started hunting together."

"Really." Gale said, voice flat.

"Steady, you two." Mrs Everdeen commented. "The further Peeta goes in this competition, the more likely he runs into Prim."

That thought chilled Katniss to her core, but only for a moment. "He won't hurt Prim." She said with certainty. "Because he knows that if he so much as uses harsh language in her direction, I will personally murder him the second he gets back, Victor or not."

AN: Read and Review!