A/N: Sorry, I know it's been forever. I was working on my 100 fics for a while and real life was a thing. Hope you all enjoy the update!

All eyes that aren't glued to the TV are on me as I push back out into the main room, pinching my brow.

"Johanna, your makeup!" scolds my stylist. She lunges in wielding a brush, but I bat her hand away.

"Fix it upstairs," I say. "I need to go talk to them. Now."

When the elevator doors open and I stride onto floor twelve followed by my uneasy stylist and prep team, Haymitch greets me with an exaggerated flourish from where he stands by the bar. "There she is, the woman of the hour." At least it's better than a flying glass or the lecture I was expecting.

"Panem's newest porn star," I quip, swooping into a dramatic curtsey.

"I should have expected nothing less from you," he tosses back as he pours himself a drink. Turning to the TV room, he hollers, "Katniss! Your girlfriend's here."

Katniss pops out of the room within seconds, urgency written all over her features. Urgency that melts away the second she lays eyes on me, mouth slipping open. I can't help smirking as her roaming eyes lock onto mine. "Sheesh, keep it in your pants, Everdeen." Coming closer with a boastful grin, I place my hands on her shoulders and give that half-open mouth a kiss. She recovers enough to respond with her lips, though her arms hang uselessly by her sides. Continuing to take the lead, I slide my hands down her back, savoring the feeling of her skin under my fingertips.

Wait.

Breaking the kiss, I turn her partway to confirm what I already know but can scarcely believe. Katniss is in a backless dress, her scars on full display. I whistle in admiration. "That's bold."

"Cinna's idea," she says, voice quiet and still holding traces of lust in its deep tone.

"And you're okay with that?"

Katniss blinks hard. Her eyes are focused and voice back to normal when she answers with an assured nod. "Yes. Tonight's all about making a statement."

Though there's no obvious anxiety in her demeanor, I can't imagine this is easy for her, private as she is. "You're brave."

She shrugs. "They want to cover it up, we expose it. Kinda like what they did to us."

"Yeah," I scoff. "I did not see that coming."

"At least we don't have to hide it anymore," Katniss points out. A hopeful smile forms on her lips, bidding mine to mirror it. Yes. Now we can be open with our affection. Act like the lovers we are. There's a silver lining to every cloud.

Haymitch snorts as he idly swirls the liquor in his tumbler. "Did you leak this, sweetheart?"

"No," she claims, "but I'll send a bouquet to whoever did."

It's my turn to snort. "Pretty sure he has a whole rose garden in his mansion." At Katniss's bewildered expression, I explain, "Even if it wasn't his idea, which I doubt, there's no way they'd get away with airing that without government approval."

Katniss squints down at me. "Why would Snow even leak this? He was the one who was making me act in love with Peeta."

"Yeah, and you were bad at it and it did nothing to crush the rebellion. But showing you with a Peacekeeper might." My eyes roll over to Haymitch and he widens his pointedly, warning me against revealing too much. I settle for saying, "He's trying to make the districts hate you. Not to mention the Capitol."

A weary sigh makes her shoulders fall. "Whatever, I don't care who hates me. I'm dying in there anyway."

My prep team steps in, insisting I let them make the finishing touches, and Katniss retreats to her room with an eye roll. Before they can latch onto me, I duck under their arms and join Haymitch at the bar under the pretense of getting a drink. Digging in the chilled cabinet under the counter, I glance up from my squat and whisper, "What can I do to fix this?"

"Go on as planned," mumbles Haymitch, still appearing very calm about the whole thing. "The angle we picked will work even better now. It's our best shot at damage control."

Eyes barely focused on the array of bottles, my fingers drum on the cool glass shelf. "I'm worried about her. What if she does something stupid and gets herself killed early because she sees no point trying to survive?"

"We can't tell her," insists Haymitch.

My head snaps up. "Why not?" I demand.

He gives me one of his firm glares as I stand with a beer in hand. "Don't make me repeat myself. You're not stupid." Then he walks away too.

When my prep team finishes with me, I shoo them back to our floor but stay put so I can ride down with the crew from Twelve. There's only minutes before we need to leave, and soon they begin emerging from the rooms. Peeta arrives first with his stylist, who has really outdone herself. He looks downright dashing in his fancy suit with a touch of eyeliner and his hair coiffed in that particular way. I let out a low whistle. "Damn, son."

Peeta gives me a small but genuine smile. "Thanks, Johanna. You look nice too."

"'Nice' isn't quite what I was going for, sweet cheeks, but I'll take the compliment anyway."

"Leave the boy alone," Haymitch interjects as he wanders over from the dining area. "I don't know how Katniss tolerates you."

"She doesn't tolerate me," I retort without missing a beat. "She adores me."

"Someone's on her game," observes Haymitch.

"Need to be. It's a big night."

A couple more minutes pass before the others join us, Effie leading the way and scolding Cinna about how we have a schedule to keep. But when Katniss comes into view, it's clear every last minute was worth it. Everything about her is dazzling, from the shimmering red dress to the smoky makeup, but the one detail I hone in on is the elegant shawl draped over her shoulders.

Cocking an eyebrow, I deduce, "Gonna do a dramatic reveal?"

"That is Cinna's style," Katniss says with a good-natured eye roll.

The man in question grins. "Nothing wrong with a little showmanship."

"That's what tonight's all about," I concur as the elevator dings, announcing its arrival.

The mood as we descend is surprisingly lighthearted considering nearly half of us could well be dead in twenty-four hours. Confidence goes a long way. But that emotion is tested almost immediately as the adults peel off and we have to approach the congregated victors alone. Feeling Katniss tense up beside me as we walk, I take her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. "Heads high, kids," I say. "We can take anything they throw at us."

The victors are acting chummy as usual, chatting in various groups, but as the three of us draw near more and more heads and conversations turn our way. Finnick is the first to break from his whispering comrades to speak to us directly. "I fucking knew it," he chirps, grinning ear to ear at the sight of our joined hands.

"Congratulations," I deadpan. "What would you like for your prize?"

"A longer clip of that video, maybe," he drawls, cocking an eyebrow as he edges closer. When I roll my eyes, he chuckles and lets his expression fade to a proud smirk. "Kidding. Honestly, the satisfaction of being right is all the reward I need."

"Why am I not surprised?"

Ignoring my sass, he claps a hand on Peeta's shoulder. "Peeta, my man, you have my sympathy."

Peeta's eyes flit between us and then back to Finnick. "Thanks?"

Either blind to his discomfort or blatantly disregarding it, Finnick gives his shoulder a fraternal shake. "Not to worry, handsome, there's plenty of fish in the sea." Then he gently tugs Peeta's arm, leading him toward another group of victors.

Katniss stares at their backs as they walk away. "What just happened?"

"Finnick Odair." It's all that needs to be said.

Now that Finnick has disengaged, Scar breaks from her conversation with the other Careers to approach us, wearing a bright and disarming smile. "Hello, gorgeous," she greets me, pulling me into a quick hug. Stepping back, she addresses both of us. "I'm happy for you guys. Glad it's finally out there."

Katniss turns to me with a furrowed brow. "Wait, she knew?"

"We're friends, remember?"

"How could I forget?" huffs Katniss.

"Relax, there's nothing to be jealous of," Scar assures her, slipping a congenial arm around my shoulders. "Jo's not my type."

My girlfriend's inquisitive squint contrasts her purportedly offhand tone as she asks, "What is your type?"

"Tall, muscular men, mostly."

Katniss's eyes flit over to me. "Well, you're one for three."

"Yeah, apparently you need to be at least two," I crack, and Scar immediately drops her hand to pinch my waist with sharp fingernails. "Ow!" I yelp, swatting her hand away.

Turning to face me, Scar reaches out for a fist bump. As I comply with a scowl, she says, "Good luck, Jo. Break a leg."

"You wish," Katniss grumbles at her retreating form.

I squint incredulously. "That's just an expression."

"I know," she sighs.

Noticing her posture wilting a little, I pop a finger under her chin and tip it back up. "Hey." When she meets my gaze, I smile softly and assure her, "You're gonna be great."

Katniss pushes out a shaky breath. "I'm not ready to talk about this."

My head tips to the side as I consider how best to encourage and embolden her. "In all the time we've been together, haven't you wished we could be open about it?" is what I settle on. "'Cause I know I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, even before you were famous."

"Yes, but not this open. You remember what I said last year. I don't want to talk to these people about my personal life." Katniss scoffs. "It was easier when it was my fake personal life."

"These people didn't fall in love with the fake Katniss, they fell in love with you." I flash my most charming smile. "And trust me, you're hard to fall out of love with."

A faint blush dusts her cheeks as she averts her eyes with a shy smile. "I wish I was witty like you. This would go so much easier."

"Probably," I concur, pointedly turning my back. Katniss huffs and gives my ribs a light jab with her elbow, but then she props it on my shoulder, casually leaning on me as we watch the other victors socialize. It's mere moments before a Capitol attendant signals for us to line up in preparation for our walk onstage, making me frown. As little as I envy Peeta right now, I do envy his seat. Turning back to Katniss, I give her a parting hug and hand squeeze. That will have to do, seeing as my stylist forbade me from kissing her again after the lipstick fiasco our latest kiss caused.

Caesar's already been hyping the crowd up for several minutes, but they go ballistic when we walk onstage. This is quite possibly the most star-studded event the Capitol has ever seen, and with so many of us about to die, it's ripe for drama. And as much as they enjoy tuning in for aggravated assault and murder, the Capitol loves nothing more than drama.

As the interviews get underway, I realize I'm not the only one with plans to make subtle attacks on the Capitol. But while my strategy is to subvert the Capitol's narrative of me as its loyal soldier, their remarks seem designed to cause a public outcry. That's a relief, seeing as the star-crossed lovers story isn't going to work anymore in that department. Cashmere mourns the loss of the Capitol's relationships with so many of its victors, Beetee questions the legality of the Quell, Finnick reads a poem to his one true love. I doubt such a person actually exists, but many in the audience seem to think it's directed at them. Haymitch was right about him being useful as a mouthpiece, if nothing else. If he can reduce the Capitol to swooning in the streets and protesting his imminent death with only a poem, surely he can turn some of them to the cause.

Needless to say, the victors who take this tack put a damper on things, not allowing the crowd its usual enthusiasm for this event. But when my name is called, excited stomping and deafening cheers rattle the City Circle. I can't help taking it as an insult, the implication that I'll be as gung ho as they are. But to be fair, they have every reason to believe that. And considering the person I was a couple years ago, maybe I deserve the backhanded compliment. As I make my way to Caesar, I consciously relax my shoulders and focus on the positives. Even if I've come between their big celebrity couple, the Capitol still adores me. I'm sure they're the only ones save for District 2 and the Peacekeeping Corps, but at least someone is rooting for me.

Quieting the crowd with a raised hand, Caesar gives me an intrigued smile. "The enigmatic Peacekeeper, our mystery tribute. On Reaping Day you were an unknown, but we've learned quite a lot about you these past few days, Johanna Mason." The audience responds with hoots and whistles, clearly indicating what they want to hear about. But Caesar surprises them and me by not jumping on the latest news right away. "Let's start with the broadcast earlier this week, when your parents let us in on your childhood dream and the heartbreak of your injury," he says. "How does it feel to finally be standing here, on this stage?"

Overwhelming. Surreal. Bittersweet. "It feels nothing like I thought it would," I say in summation. "You see, there was no injury. It's a long story, but all you really need to know is I wasn't going to be allowed to volunteer. And I was angry, Caesar. I was so, so angry. And when I got to Twelve, I took that anger out on someone first chance I got. Out on a beautiful girl I met in the woods."

Caesar's eyebrows fly up. "On Katniss?" When I nod, he cackles and turns to the crowd. "Love at first slight - am I right, folks?"

The pun procures a mix of laughter and boos from the crowd, but I barely wait for it to die down before forging on ahead. "I was eager to arrest her because she was poaching. What I didn't know then is how little people have in the outlying districts. How she needed to hunt illegally just so Prim wouldn't starve to death." Recognizing an opportunity to butter up the people my life depends on, I continue, "Before I went to Twelve, I only knew the outlying districts for their weak tributes. So I thought all of them were weak, but I was wrong. They are stronger than anyone from here, even stronger than anyone from Two. The fight to stay alive is what makes them strong, and it's so much more real than in the arena."

It's gone so quiet I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. I'm usually quite adept at reading a room, but I can't tell whether the crowd's silence is due to shock, shame, or an overwhelming desire to murder me. Maybe they're hanging on my every word, but I'm no optimist. Tongue flitting out over my lips, I conclude, "There's no pride for me in this anymore. I'm not here to claim a prize or win a battle, I'm here to die defending the love of my life."

A chorus of 'aw's and similar sentiments rises from the streets, allowing me a subtle sigh of relief. Jumping on that declaration, Caesar segues, "The whole country was shocked to find out about the two of you. A victor and a Peacekeeper, the unlikeliest of matches. Tell us some of your love story."

Smirking conspiratorially, I crack, "You mean past the point where I arrested her in the woods?"

"Yes, past that," he urges me. "Give us some juicy details!"

I mull this over a moment, weighing the benefits of answering honestly against how badly Katniss is going to beat me up later. But as much as she likes her privacy, we need to give the Capitol something to root for. Expecting them to be as invested in us as they were in something they saw develop on screen would be foolish. Finally I choose to divulge, "Well, our first kiss was behind an armored truck by the school. She kissed me."

"While you were on duty?" My nod makes him gasp, a hand flying to his mouth. "What a scandal, no?"

The rhetorical question is directed at the audience, but I answer over their whispers and chuckles. "Not really," I say flatly. "Girls kissing Peacekeepers for scraps of food wasn't that uncommon in Twelve at the time."

There's an initial silence from the crowd, then a growing rumble as the implications sink in. Caesar cuts off the reaction before it gets too strong though, clarifying, "But it wasn't for food."

"No. It was her way of saying how she felt about me," I say. "But I already knew. It's the same way I felt about her."

"And she felt this way despite who you were?"

Leaning in as though I'm sharing a secret, I flash a grin and admit, "Believe it or not, Caesar, I take some getting used to." When the ensuing chuckles die down, I explain, "Katniss disliked me from the start. Without me arresting her, the uniform might have been enough. But once we spent some time together, she realized there was a person under all that armor. Kind of a horrible person, granted, but… I like to think she saw glimpses of who I could be."

"And who is that?" inquires Caesar.

"Who I am today," I declare, making earnest eye contact with one of the cameras. "She's made me a better person. Like she's made so many people in this country better, just by being who she is. Brave, and loyal, and loving. And I have been so blessed-" On a whim I let my voice crack to underscore the emotion of the moment, but as soon as I do my eyes start stinging for real. It's embarrassing but I milk it for all it's worth, swiping a tear from the corner of my eye. "So blessed to not only have known her, but to have been with her for as long as we had. It wasn't enough time, but let's be honest, eternity wouldn't be enough time. Not with Katniss. She's that special." The buzzer goes off, indicating my time is up, and the audience erupts into roaring applause that doesn't die down until long after I'm back in my seat. My grin doesn't fade for even longer.

The interviews continue and so do the subtle and not-so-subtle barbs. By the time the tributes from Eleven are up, they are openly questioning President Snow's power and whether or not he cares how the country feels about the Quell. The audience is riveted and many are echoing their sentiments, calling for change or breaking down in tears. But there is a special buzz in the air when Katniss is called, their anticipation palpable as she walks to center stage. Everyone is dying to hear the other side of the story, and Caesar is no exception. After only cursory remarks about how Cinna has turned Katniss into the girl on fire yet again, he asks how she of all people ended up falling for a Peacekeeper.

"Well, like Johanna said, I didn't like her at first. I really didn't like her." Her smirk fades into a thoughtful frown. "That's the thing, though. Johanna has always gotten under my skin in a way no one else could. Whatever feelings I had about her, they were always so strong. I hated that more than I hated her."

Caesar's head cants to the side. "What ever do you mean?"

"I hated how she could get a rise out of me so easily. She made me feel out of control, and that was scary."

"Falling in love is a scary feeling," he commiserates.

"It took a long time before I gave into it," she admits. "Both of us, actually. We knew we were probably doomed, but we could only resist so much."

Lavender lips stretching wide, Caesar teases her, "According to Johanna, you made the first move."

"Please," scoffs Katniss. "Johanna is all moves. I kissed her first, but 99 percent of the flirting was her. I barely know how to flirt, I always end up making a fool of myself, so kissing her was the easiest way to tell her I liked her back."

Shaking his head, Caesar lays a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Katniss, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that you can be very charming."

"I've had a little practice now," she deadpans, allowing only a shadow of a smile to peek through.

"The report that aired this evening mentioned that Johanna's platoon was reassigned shortly after the Victory Tour," says Caesar. That smile falls right off her face. "It must have been terrible for you, being separated all those months."

Katniss nods mutely, has to swallow and clear her throat before she can answer. "It was. I've had a… rough time since I was last in the Capitol. Johanna felt betrayed by the engagement and I had to try to win back her trust. I barely had the chance before she was shipped out. I never even got to say goodbye."

"That is truly heartbreaking," he says, clutching his lapels in his free hand. "Why didn't you get to say goodbye?"

"It happened without warning. Even if I had known, I was unconscious at the time, nearly dead." Caesar gives her a questioning squint and she steels herself with a deep breath. "I don't have to worry about feeding my own family anymore, but my aunt and cousins have been struggling, so I was hunting illegally to help them out. A week after the Harvest Festival, I got caught with a dead turkey on my way to my aunt's house, and our Head Peacekeeper decided to make an example of me." Letting the shawl slip down her shoulders, she slowly turns to reveal her back. "I almost bled to death for it."

Gasps of shock and horror rise from the Circle, but Caesar is uncharacteristically speechless, what appears to be genuine shock showing on his face. I'd assumed he was aware of what the 'modesty concerns' were all about, but maybe he actually didn't know. Still seeming a little dazed, he asks, "And this was right before Johanna left?"

"Before she was sent away, you mean," snaps Katniss. "Johanna never would've abandoned me in that condition."

Caesar nods and swiftly redirects. "Of course not. Now, we know you were with Johanna both before and after your Games, so this has obviously raised a lot of questions regarding your relationship with Peeta." The crowd is dead silent again as he tips his head and attempts to peer into her soul. "Did you ever love him? Or was it all a sham?"

"I meant it when I said I didn't want to lose him," she lobbies in her own defense. "When he was all I had for company, I got attached. How could I help it? He's a pleasant person to be around." Katniss swallows, her eyes briefly dropping. "I do love him, as a friend. That part wasn't an act."

"What would you say to the people out there who feel like you took advantage of Peeta and his affection for you?" needles Caesar.

"I did," Katniss retorts bluntly. "In the arena, you use every advantage you can get. But everything I did was to save both of us. I'd tell anyone who wants to be all high and mighty about it that'd they don't like it, maybe they should try being a tribute."

The silence that follows turns to scattered applause as the buzzer goes off and she makes her way back to her seat. The hum of displeasure in the air makes me shift uncomfortably. This is exactly what I was afraid of. She's going to get herself killed.

When Peeta's name is called, he gets a cautiously warm reception from the crowd. Tribute and host have a bit of their playful banter as usual, but there's a tension behind it that makes it feel kind of fake. Within moments, Caesar abandons any pretenses and starts the interrogation in earnest. "If the rumors are true about Johanna living with Katniss first in the Victor's Village and now here, you must have known for some time," he reasons. Peeta nods. "How long have you known?"

"Well, I realized Katniss didn't love me on the train home. I didn't find out about Johanna for another month after that. They had to avoid each other, with all the cameras around."

"When you did find out, that must have made you very angry."

"Not really," shrugs Peeta. "I was more angry on the train. Angry and sad, because Katniss had tricked me and broken my heart. But in time I got over it, because I know she did it to save my life. They never would have changed the rules for us if she hadn't pretended to be in love with me."

Squinting curiously, Caesar pries, "If you knew, why did you ask her to marry you?"

"Because she asked me to," Peeta answers matter-of-factly. "She was afraid that if people thought we weren't in love, something bad might happen to Johanna."

Before anyone has a chance to read too deep into that remark, Caesar questions him, "And you were willing to do that? Protect your rival?"

"Johanna isn't my rival," counters Peeta. "I envy her, yes, but we aren't fighting over Katniss."

"Don't you still love her?" presses Caesar.

"Of course I do!" spits Peeta. "But if she doesn't love me, why would I want to be with her? Trust me, being with someone who doesn't love you back really sucks." Letting his eyes fall shut, he take a deep breath to regain his composure. "I didn't want to fake-marry Katniss, so if anything, this is a relief," he declares. "Neither of us was happy in a sham of a relationship, but she's happy with Johanna. And I want her to be happy, even if it's not with me. It would be selfish of me to not want that."

Caesar continues to dig. "Still, it must be hard for you to be around them and see all their affection."

"No harder than it was for Johanna to watch us in the Games, I imagine," Peeta answers flatly. Before Caesar can ask anything else, he stresses, "Like I said, I still love Katniss very much. She's been a good friend and companion to me, even if she can't love me the way I wanted. And I still want her to survive." Reaching into his suit jacket, he continues, "In fact, I made a gift for her for when she makes it out of these Games alive. I was going to leave it for her to find in the Training Center, but then I remembered this is my last work of art ever. I thought the Capitol might like to see it too."

"Oh, yes please!" Caesar wrings his hands giddily.

Unfurling the rolled up piece of paper he pulled from his suit, Peeta turns it around so the cameras can see it. It's a simple sketch in pencil, nothing too fancy or colorful, but it gets a reaction from the crowd all the same. Katniss is sitting back against a tree and I'm sat between her legs, her cheek pressed to my temple, our fingers laced together. I recognize the scene immediately - we were sitting that way on the roof yesterday. At the time I thought Peeta was drawing a cherry tree farther into the garden, but evidently he was sketching us on the sly.

Allowing the murmurs and clapping a few moments to die down, Caesar lays a hand on Peeta's shoulder. "That's beautiful, Peeta," he says sincerely. "Thank you for sharing that with us."

Spurred on by Caesar's approval, the crowd cheers their appreciation. The buzzer sounds, but instead of heading for his seat, Peeta walks straight toward me as we all stand in preparation for the anthem. He has to lean in and speak directly in my ear to be heard over the clamor. "Take my spot," he says. When I pull back to squint at him, he jerks his head to stage left. "Go on," he insists.

I don't need to be told thrice. Abandoning the formality Effie insisted on, I run down the line of tributes and throw my arms around Katniss's neck. As hers thread around my waist, I push up on my toes to meet her lips in a desperate kiss. The crowd goes berserk, at least until they see the tears streaming down my face. Their cheers quiet to a rumble of dissent before cries of protest begin to erupt. The melee only grows louder when Katniss rests her forehead against mine and brushes my tears away with her thumb, though her own eyes are brimming over. The opening strains of the anthem start to blare over the ruckus and we grudgingly pull apart to stand at attention as required, but I refuse to let go of her hand.

Seeing the effects of our affection on the audience, other tributes perform similar acts of solidarity. Mags latches onto Finnick's side and he plants a kiss on top of her head. Chaff and Beetee take that as their cue to kiss their district partners on the cheek, while Gloss and Cashmere link hands and hold them high. Brutus seems a little confused by what's going on around him, but he doesn't refuse when Scar offers him a firm handshake. It's Blight who starts the cross-district pleasantries, giving Peeta's shoulder a friendly shake. Then Katniss grabs Chaff's stump, setting off a chain reaction. All down the line, the victors start linking hands. By the time the anthem is over, all of us stand united, our hands clasped and raised in the air. I punctuate the gesture by pointing my middle finger to the sky, which actually sets off a roar of accord. From the Capitol themselves. I can't believe it.

The chaos in the Circle turns from anger and unrest to fear and confusion as the power is cut off, ending the broadcast and throwing the place into darkness. Precious little light from the surrounding apartments reaches the stage, so we tributes end up tripping over each other as we try to find our way back inside the Training Center. Still clinging to Katniss's hand as we stagger through the backstage area, I spot the dim glow coming from the lobby and give her a tug. "Come on," I urge her. "The elevators are this way."

"I need to find Peeta," she protests, lagging behind and looking over her shoulder.

"He'll be fine, Katniss. Let's get upstairs before we get mowed over."

As if to prove my point, as we close in on the bank of elevators I'm shoved hard from the side. I stumble into Katniss and she barely manages to catch me. As I regain my balance, I stiffen suddenly at the distinct feeling of a gun barrel prodding my back. "Move it, traitor," growls a deep voice.

In one fluid motion, I spin around and knock the gun away. Glaring up at the lanky Peacekeeper holding it, I spit, "Hey, what the fuck? Chill, dude."

"You chill," he snaps back with a scowl. "Get in the damn elevator." I'm tempted to give him a piece of my mind and fists, but Katniss tows me into an open car before I have the chance. There's a clacking of running heels behind us, and as I turn around to see who's trying to join us, he juts an arm out to hold Scarlett back. "Not you."

Gazing through the closing doors, I catch one last glimpse of my friend. She's an enemy as of tomorrow. After the evaluations Peeta and Katniss decided they didn't want any more allies, and that was that. I'm sure we'll rub up against Finnick and the Threes and whoever else is involved in the rebel plot at some point, but Scar is different. She's not in on the plan. There's a lot I'd like to say to her, but with limited seconds in mixed company all I can do is mirror her bittersweet smile of farewell as the gap narrows and disappears.

Between mourning her loss and the stressing over my confrontation with the Peacekeeper, I'm uncharacteristically quiet as the elevator shoots upward. Only once we step out into the safety of floor twelve am I able to relax at all. Turning to Katniss, I raise an urgent eyebrow. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." A grin spreads across her face. "I feel great, actually." Wrapping her arms around me, she squeezes me tight to her chest. "No more secrets."

Fuck.

Though I stay there in her embrace, I feel miles away from Katniss right now. She thinks we've laid everything bare, and here I am harboring the biggest secret of all. And from her specifically. It's a relief when one of the other elevators dings and I can extricate myself from a hug I really don't deserve. Seeing Peeta step from the car gives me another reason to pull away, too. He seems tentative as I walk up to him, but I attempt to assuage his nerves by pulling him in and squeezing my arms around his midsection. "Peeta. Thank you."

Peeta awkwardly pats my back, not relaxed at all in my grip. Though I'm tickled that he still appears to be afraid of me, I take pity on him and step back. Catching my eye, he gives me a puzzled blink. "For what?"

"Showing your support. It will really help smooth things over."

Peeta rolls his eyes a little. "You don't have to thank me, it was the right thing to do. Besides, I was telling the truth." His mouth twitches into a half-hearted smile, then he wanders over to the table to munch on some snacks their Avoxes have laid out.

I'm caked in sweat and makeup and would love nothing more than to go shower and change, but since Katniss and Peeta seem intent on waiting for the others I settle for kicking off my heels and discarding my jewelry. Katniss does the same and we both join Peeta at the table to nibble on finger food while we wait. I'm perched on Katniss's lap but it's less comfortable than usual because of the nervous tapping of her foot. Several times I have to give her a look or place a pointed hand on her knee, and each time she apologizes but resumes jiggling me within moments. I'm starting to consider giving up the waiting and hitting the showers now when the elevator dings again. Haymitch and Effie enter the living area, both looking a little rattled. "It's madness out there," Haymitch tells us. "Everyone's been sent home and they've canceled the recap of the interviews on television."

The three of us get up and move to the window, peering down at the pandemonium in the streets. "What are they saying?" Peeta asks. "Are they asking the president to stop the Games?"

"I don't think they know themselves what to ask. The whole situation is unprecedented. Even the idea of opposing the Capitol's agenda is a source of confusion for the people here," says Haymitch. "But there's no way Snow would cancel the Games. You know that, right?"

"Was worth a shot," I grumble.

"And you did well," Haymitch says. I blink over in surprise and he nods his affirmation. "All of you."

"We're so proud of you," Effie chimes in.

Peeta and I both smile our acknowledgement, but Katniss is still frowning out the window. Finally stepping away to join us, she inquires, "Cinna and Portia went home?"

"They were ordered to," answers Effie. "Even I'm not supposed to be here, but I snuck past the Peacekeepers. This is important." Reaching into her purse, she pulls out a small wooden box. "Here," she says, handing it to Haymitch.

Haymitch frowns at the box as she passes a second one to Peeta. "What is this?"

"Your token, remember?" Catching my eye, she explains, "On the train, I said I'd get the boys something gold to match Katniss's pin and my hair." Haymitch furrows his brow at the flame-patterned golden bangle he pulls from his box. Peeking into Peeta's box, I see a gold disc on a leather rope that I assume must be a pendant. I'm just admiring the mockingjay emblem engraved in it when Effie pipes up, "And don't think I forgot you, Johanna." Blinking up in surprise, I find Effie extending yet another box to me, a very small one. Cocking an eyebrow, she says, "We're a team, aren't we?"

My lips burst into a beaming smile as I take the box from her. "Yeah. Thanks, Effie." Flipping open the top, I find a small gold ring sitting in a bed of blue crushed velvet. I flash a smile of appreciation as I slide it onto my left index finger. I'll probably have to take it off in the arena so it won't compromise my grip on any weapons I can get my hands on, but I appreciate the gesture nonetheless. Besides, I know how important manners are to Effie.

Never one for tact or manners, Katniss interjects, "Thank you, Effie, but I'm not wearing the pin." As everyone else stares in confusion, she reaches into her bra. I can't help an affectionate smirk as she pulls out my dog tags. The lengths she'll go to to avoid taking those things off. Holding them out in her palm, she declares, "I'm wearing these."

Haymitch grunts gruffly. "Jo's dog tags? Absolutely not."

"I don't care about this color matching scheme," protests Katniss. Hearing her escort's huff to the side, she quickly catches her eye and adds, "No offense, Effie. It's a lovely idea."

"They could be 24 karat gold for all I care," says Haymitch. "You can't go in there wearing a Peacekeeper's dog tags. Do you know how fast they'll kill you?"

"Johanna's not that kind of Peacekeeper," argues Katniss.

"They don't know that."

"I think she spelled it out on stage."

"What if I wear the pin?" I interject. All heads turn my way. "Then they all know I'm on their side, so Katniss doesn't look bad for wearing something of mine," I reason, holding eye contact with Haymitch. Only he knows who I truly mean by 'they.' Sliding an arm around Katniss's waist, I add, "Plus it makes it look like a cute couple thing, which is what it is anyway."

As everyone else absorbs this argument, Katniss loops the chain over her neck and insists, "I'm wearing these. I told you. I want to die as me."

Haymitch finally sighs, waving us off. "Fine. Give her the pin," he relents. "I'm getting a drink."

While he wanders to the bar, I quietly slip the ring back in the box and Katniss attempts to redeem herself a little. Touching Effie's shoulder awkwardly, she repeats, "I'm sorry. I really do appreciate how much thought you put into that."

Forcing a smile, Effie admits, "In all fairness, I never asked you what your plans were." She draws the girl into her arms and gives her a firm, lingering hug. "Take care of yourself, Katniss." Pulling back, she holds her gaze earnestly. "I mean it."

Peeta embraces Effie in turn and my eyes float over to Haymitch as he drifts back toward us, masking his pained expression with the glass at his lips. Noticing his mentor as he disconnects from Effie, Peeta gives him an appreciate nod. "Thank you, Haymitch. For everything." When Haymitch only grunts, he lifts his eyebrows. "Any last words of advice?"

"Stay alive," Haymitch says gruffly. He puts down his tumbler of scotch long enough to give each of his mentees a quick hug, then swiftly orders us, "Go to bed. You need your rest."

"You take care, Haymitch," says Peeta. Katniss doesn't echo his sentiments, but her obvious swallow tells me it's because she's afraid she'll start crying. After her tears during our kiss on stage, I don't blame her for not wanting to lose her composure again.

We start to leave, but Haymitch speaks up once more as we reach the hallway. "Katniss, when you're in the arena…"

Seeing his scowl, Katniss balks and crosses her arms over her chest. "What?"

"You just remember who the enemy is," Haymitch tells her. "That's all. Now go on. Get out of here."

Katniss and Peeta share a long hug at our door, murmuring words I can't quite make out. When Peeta cups the back of her head and gives her a kiss on the cheek, I find myself not stewing in jealousy but smiling. Letting her go, he gives me a nod as he steps back. "Night, Johanna."

"Night, Peeta. Good luck."

He smiles. "Hopefully I won't need it with you two on my side."

"Probably not," agrees Katniss, slipping her fingers between mine.

We all stand there a couple seconds longer before I tug Katniss's hand and lead her inside. As soon as the door clicks shut behind us, I shudder in disgust. "Ugh. I need a shower so bad." I reach over my shoulder, trying to find the zipper on my dress, but Katniss's voice gives me pause.

"Wait." When I look back curiously, Katniss's focus is squarely on me. I can't help gulping. I know that look. Prowling closer, she speaks in a husky burr that makes me shudder again. "I've been waiting all night to take that dress off you."

Trying to hide the extent to which she's affecting me, I cock a saucy eyebrow. "Oh?" Katniss's proud smirk tells me my acting job is terrible. She twirls her finger once in a silent command to turn around, and I do as I'm told. The breath leaves my body as I feel her palms on my back, hear the zipper slowly dragging down its track. Her eyes are wide and wanting as she turns me back around. They drop to the boob window on my dress, allowing me a snicker as she brings her hands to the neckline. She doesn't react, just brushes the straps from my shoulders and lets my dress fall to the floor. Her eyes follow it down and then travel back up my body, her mouth slowly slipping open. When she meets my gaze, I can't help chuckling. "Care to join me?"

Katniss nods mutely, eyes growing yet wider. There's only a short zipper on her backless dress, so it takes me mere seconds to strip the garment off of her. It pools at her feet and we lock eyes again. Her lip quivers in anticipation and I'm struck by an urge to bite it. Stepping in to do so, I rest my palms against her stomach and slowly move them around to the small of her back as I tug her lip with my teeth. She groans and moves her hands to the arch of my back, pulling me up and into her as she kisses me with authority.

Clawing at the back of her neck I press myself against her, feeling as much of her skin as I can. Our undergarments are getting in the way so I quickly unsnap her bra and run my hands from her shoulder blades down her arms, sliding the straps off. She reciprocates just as fast and then we're in tight again, unsteady breaths making our kisses clumsy. We continue for a few moments before I remember what I was doing and start walking backwards, guiding us toward the bathroom.

I pull away only long enough to get the water turned on, eagerly returning to her grasp. We get lost in the kisses again, our hands roaming and lips clashing until steam starts to fill the room. This time it's Katniss who retains enough awareness to act, pushing my panties down my thighs until they drop to the floor. Shoving her own down her hips in one quick motion, she kicks them aside and walks me into the spray.

The humidity in the shower only makes me feel grodier, but I resist detaching from Katniss long enough to bite her neck and taste the salt on her skin before it all washes away. Her groan of pleasure morphs into frustration and she turns me around by the hips. "Come on, let's get on with it." She knows I typically don't go farther than foreplay in the shower and I guess she can only take so much teasing. I chuckle and start lathering up my hair, feeling her gaze burning into the rippling muscles of my back.

When I turn around she's just pulling the last of the pins from her hair and shaking it loose. I can't help staring as it cascades down her shoulders in waves, have to force myself to close my eyes so I can rinse. Her hands slide onto my hips and I smile blindly, savoring the sensation of her fingertips stroking my skin. Opening my eyes again, I find her staring at my face, her own a jumble of emotions. Looping my arms back around her neck, I push up on my toes and reconnect our lips. The kisses are slow but messy - clearly I'm not the only one so aroused I'm losing my coordination. Gradually I turn us around so she's taking the brunt of the spray, then push away and nod for her to take her turn.

Short hair has its advantages. I could easily finish showering in the time it takes Katniss to wash the sparkles and hairspray and god knows what else out of her hair, but I wait and simply enjoy the show in the meantime. When she's finally done, I step in with a grin and press a button prompting the shower to spray us with suds. Katniss startles and I enjoy a giggle at her expense. She narrows her eyes and shuts me up with a hard kiss. She tries to, anyway. Still chuckling into her throat, I gather what foam hasn't washed off her shoulders and slide my hands down her chest. The lust in her eyes as my palms circle her breasts and glide over her stomach makes me giggle again, this time with nerves. She doesn't make a move, though, so I press the button again. Her eyelids flutter shut as my nails rake softly over her back, exfoliating with soothing scratches. Already standing so close, I press my cheek to her collarbone and close my eyes too, listening the patter of water against tile and heart against ribcage. She hums and starts massaging my shoulders, soapy hands kneading my flesh and procuring grateful groans.

It's a good thing the Training Center has a seemingly unlimited supply of hot water. The washing keeps getting interrupted by kissing and vice versa, and despite Katniss's earlier insistence that we get on with it, she makes no effort to hurry things up. My patience has its limits, though. I can't help looking up while I'm crouched scrubbing her feet, and my teeth unconsciously play at my lip. Before I know it I'm pulling myself up by her ass and biting the skin of her hip crease. She gives a breathy chuckle and tugs upward on my short locks. "Get up here."

That's not all I have in mind. Standing up impossibly close, I press her into the tile wall with my body. She shivers even before I grip her wrists and pin them to the wall above her head. Securing both in my left hand, I graze the other down her side and between her legs. She gasps at the first soft touch and her lip begins to tremble. "Hanna," she whispers.

"Ready to move on?" I propose. She nods eagerly and I chuckle, quickly turning off the water and towing her out onto the mat where the blast of hot air dries us off. Well, mostly.

In spite of the hunger we both feel, our steps and kisses are slow as I walk Katniss backward into the bedroom. Tonight I feel like taking my time, relishing every moment, and she isn't arguing. When her legs bump into the bed, she sits down and I press on her shoulders as I climb up to join her. Knees straddling her hips, I sink down so my butt rests on my heels and wrap my arms around her shoulders, resting my cheek against hers.

When I eventually pull back to look her in the eye, she blinks away, but not before I spot the tears threatening to spill over. "Hey." My brow furrows as I tip her chin up, caressing her cheek. "What's wrong?"

Her lower lip trembles just a little "Tonight…" Her voice threatens to catch and she swallows hard. "This is our last chance. Last time."

Shaking my head, I mumble, "I wouldn't be so sure of that."

Katniss squints in disbelief. "In the arena?"

Though that's not what I meant, I can't resist pointing out, "The whole country's seen us bang already."

She blushes. "Yes, well, that was unexpected."

"No shit." I pause, nibbling on my lip. Though I've effectively talked my way out of my little blunder there, I know it wasn't entirely a mistake. Part of me wanted to let that slip. Because no matter what Haymitch says, I can't convince myself that withholding this information from Katniss is the right thing to do. Not only is it plaguing my conscience, I think it might be counterproductive. We work better together. She should know. Before I can have any second thoughts, I say, "I need to tell you something." Putting my lips to her ear, I whisper, "We might both get out alive."

Katniss snorts. "Sure."

"I'm serious," I insist at a normal volume, then lean back in. "There's a plan," I murmur. "I hardly know anything. Haymitch told me not to tell you." Feeling her stiffen, I validate her anger with a nod. "I know," I say aloud. Lowering my voice once more, I urge her, "Just don't give up yet, okay? Don't do anything reckless." Pulling back, I see Katniss wearing a rather unconvinced expression. I resort to begging, tipping my head with earnest eyes. "Please."

Katniss looks away with a heavy sigh. After a moment her eyes fall shut and she gives her head a tiny shake. "Okay," she concedes, meeting my gaze once more. "I can do that."

Before I have a chance to respond, her fingers slip inside me and I tense up in surprise. "Fuck," I whisper.

Cocking an eyebrow, Katniss pointedly shifts her eyes around the room and asks, "Didn't you say this is what you wanted?"

My breathless chuckle holds traces of affection as I absorb her playful smile. "Little shit." Pushing forward, I take her lips and ease her down onto the mattress. Our kisses and touches are still reverent and lingering, and though I long to lose myself in them I can no longer ignore the tinge of sadness behind them. Brushing my lips down her jaw, I map her neck with kisses, burning every inch of skin into my memory just in case she's right. God forbid.

***o***

Though I'm a ball of nerves all night, Katniss's warmth and presence allows me enough security to get a few hours of sleep, anyway. Definitely more than I always anticipated getting the night before my Games. I'm drifting between sleep and waking sometime after dawn when a timid knock sounds at the door. It barely gets through my bleary haze the first time, but when it repeats it pulls me right out of the dreamlike state. "Ugh, what?" I shout. There's a pause, then the knock repeats once again.

"Oh," mumbles Katniss. Propping herself up on her elbows, she calls, "Yes, come in." The door cracks open and one of the Avoxes peeks through, a redheaded girl with sad eyes. They had her last year too, Katniss told me earlier this week. That's probably how she immediately understands the quick sequence of hand signals the girl gives her. Nodding with a swallow, Katniss gives her a nod of dismissal. "Thank you." The girl gives a somber nod in return and backs out, closing the door almost silently.

Rubbing her eyes, Katniss sighs and turns to me. "You have to go downstairs. Your stylist is calling for you."

Eyes falling to the blankets, I nod silently. My throat starts to tighten up but I bravely swallow it down and meet her gaze. "You sleep at all?"

"A little," she mumbles, eyes flitting away. "I think."

It's easy enough to read her mind. We're both thinking the same thing. "This isn't goodbye," I state. Her eyes blink back to me and I give her forearm a reassuring squeeze. "We're both fully capable of surviving the bloodbath."

"I know." Katniss grips my shoulder and rolls onto her back, prompting me to rest my head on her chest. Her fingers comb through my hair, nails gently scratching my scalp. "But there are lots of tributes who are perfectly capable of killing us too."

Pushing myself up off her chest, I make earnest eye contact. "We found each other in the worst of circumstances. Defied all the odds," I say. "We don't need them to be in our favor."

Mouth twitching, she nods in agreement. "You're right."

"Duh. I'm always right, brainless." I grin and peck her scowling lips. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

With that, I roll out of bed and make my way to the closet. I'm mostly dressed, just shrugging on a hoodie when I hear Katniss say, "Wait." Glancing back, I see her digging in the drawer of one of the bedside tables. She finds whatever she's looking for and walks toward me, trying very hard to maintain her brave face. Grabbing my left hand, she places the mockingjay pin in my palm and folds my fingers over it. Then she swallows and cups my cheek, tips her forehead down to rest against mine. "I love you," she murmurs. Pushing out a shaky sigh, she clasps my hand in both of hers and gives me a very serious look. "Be careful."

"I will," I promise. "I love you too." Leaning in for one final peck, I draw back with a smile. "Later."

Contrasting my calm demeanor in the bedroom, my jaw and shoulders clench as I cross the floor on my way to the elevators. As much as I have prepared for this day over the course of my life, this is not the situation I envisioned. I trained to win. To enter the arena, destroy my enemies and stand alone, a champion. But now, the danger doesn't lie in destroying my enemies. The danger lies in protecting my friends.

A/N: Next up: The Quarter Quell, Remixed.

Thanks to D7P, brilliant as always, for the beta read and some very helpful suggestions.