A/N: I rewrote chapters 6 and 7 very subtly. You don't have to go back because I think all I did was change a word in 6 and add a sentence in 7 but even such subtle changes will play a big role later on in the fiction.

Also thanks to everyone who is reading and to Sukii-Sama for all the reviews.

Enjoy!

It was strange seeing a smile on the lips of Ricochet Sanders. As long as Finnick had remembered seeing her, it was always the half smile and the brief smile she had in her room, but nothing like what she wore then. An impish almost playful smile with eyes glistening as if she had the biggest secret to tell and was hoping no one would notice because it was ready to erupt inside her.

They stared at each other for the longest time, Finnick studying her close as she licked cheese from her glossed lips smiling childishly. It was possibly the most alluringly terrifying thing Finnick had ever seen, like watching a shark stalk a seal. Finding yourself memorized by the elegant force and strength of the shark, trapped by the deadly beauty and all the while fighting every nerve in your body inciting the flee response, terrified by the very deadly force that was attracting you.

"Ricochet, what did you do?" he asked narrowing his eyes a bit and glancing over her head to where the swarm of people were slowly dissipating. Ricochet didn't glance over; she quietly finished her slice of bread and licked her fingertips. The Capitol's Peacekeepers began to break up the crowd and instantly started walking towards himself and Ricochet. Finnick felt a panic bubble in his chest as ricochet took the glass of wine still in his hand and sipped calmly. Her smile was gone but her eyes still danced as she turned to face the oncoming Peacekeepers, Snow following in step from the throng of onlookers whispering among themselves.

Finnick couldn't still his hands from reaching out for Ricochet and gently pulling her to him as the Peacekeepers neared. He didn't think she had anything to worry about, seeing as how she was so high up in the social chain, but he didn't like the idea of leaving her to face whatever it was the Peacekeepers and Snow had in store. Snow flashed a smile and Ricochet nodded her head and feigned confusion as she asked,

"Something steal the attention from your lovely party, sir?" Finnick shifted his weight, in any District any more than one Peacekeeper in one place was far too many and this duo was accompanied by Snow himself. The Peacekeepers didn't spare a glance to Ricochet but they kept a hard look on Finnick causing him to straighten and tense out of reflex. He felt threatened and he didn't know why but he didn't like it.

Snow offered a deep chuckle, as if the horror of his banquet had bothered him as much as it seemed to have bothered Ricochet. He lifted his head and glanced to his guests as they slowly began stepping closer to the little group now left alone in the ballroom. He looked at Finnick then Ricochet as he joked,

"Hamlin is stealing your spotlight, my dear." He was joking. About a dead man. His own advisor seemed to be dead and he was joking with Ricochet.

"Hm," Ricochet hummed as she took a calm and relaxed sip of wine, "best cut the cake then." Snow laughed, really laughed, his head bent back and he put a hand to his stomach as he laughed. Finnick's skin felt drenched in some sort of slime. It was possibly the scariest sound he had ever heard. The man that has been the cause of thousands of deaths in the Districts, both through Games and poor leadership, was laughing- about a man's death.

"Hear that?" he turned to his guests and gestured grandly as he said with a smile, "The birthday girl wants her cake so let's have cake!" An eruption of applause sounded, suddenly and overpowering anything else as everyone resumed the dancing and laughing, some rushing to the table with the towering cake as the band picked up their sheet music and continued without missing a beat. The Peacekeepers stayed with Snow to report the findings to Ricochet, possibly because they weren't sure if she had to move Snow or if there was a killer. Finnick wondered if they had even for a second considered they were looking at the killer.

"Hamlin Trous was just found in the hallway dead," one of the Peacekeepers informed her with a stiff voice. She humored them while sipping her wine,

"Any wounds? Stab wounds, bruising, and broken bones anything of that sort? Lacerations?" She spoke with such detached indifference he wondered if she had ever cared about a living thing in her life. She was brutal during the Games, no allies and just killing one after another after another. She was sought and she would seek. There really hadn't been a time when she was just looking for water or food; she was always looking for a body to add.

"No ma'am, we won't know cause until we examine him," one said with the other quickly echoing,

"We felt we should tell you in case this had any effect on your festivities." Ricochet finished the wine and laid the glass down before plucking a grape out of Finnick's palm to slip between her lips, shrugging her shoulder heavily.

"Not really no," she said boredly before walking towards Snow who was holding a hand out to her. Finnick followed as she added, "Find me if there is cause to deem this murder." The Peacekeepers bowed at the waist and hurried off as Snow locked Ricochet's arm under his and led her towards the cake. Birthday Girl always got the first slice.

She glanced over at Finnick who was following close behind her, watching her body sway with agile strength, the scar on her back stretching and bunching the skin of her back as she moved. He couldn't really remember how she got it, if it was something she got from the Games at all. Most of her time in the Arena was shroud with rain and storm, she spent a great deal of her time shivering from cold and avoiding the swollen rivers.

That year was particularly hard on Annie to watch.

"Want some?" she asked him as she nodded to the cake. Finnick glanced up at the master piece in front of him, a tower of perfectly iced chocolate cake littered with tiny red rose buds falling along the side- like blood. The top was a ring of deep red roses around a plume of bright as snow white roses signifying Ricochet's singular job of protecting the President.

Finnick forced a smile as Snow slid the knife in Ricochet's hand, smiling as she all too absently twirled it between her fingers. She was at home with knives. She liked being up close and personal when killing. He preferred something he could throw, like his trident.

"I'll share with you if that's alright, you're more sugar than I can stand," he said winking at her. Snow smiled and nodded to Finnick as if he were pleased with what Finnick was doing. He smiled in return unsure how to take the gesture as some men around him chuckled- knowingly. Ricochet ignored the statement and the chuckles and in a blur of gorgeous precision and fluid motions, she had a large portion of the cake sliced in perfect, equal triangles.

Ricochet shifted her eyes to lock with Finnick's as she slowly ran the flat of her tongue along the blade, collecting all the icing and cake on the sharp metal as she watched Finnick pointedly. He watched, once again caught between finding her terrifying and gorgeous. She was dangerous, yes, but she was also beautiful- which just made her a bit too deadly in his book.

"Well the night is young, everyone enjoy your stay! Drink, eat and as always over indulge!" Snow said raising his arms to a chorus of cheers and toasts. Ricochet took the plate of cake offered to her, let Snow pull her close and kiss her temple. Finnick narrowed his eyes trying to focus his sight. He thought Snow whispered something in Ricochet's ear, something that immediately caused her to look at him, before she gave a curt nod of her head and wandered through the awaiting crowd to where he stood. She looked at him after taking the first, and probably only, bite of cake.

"I don't want to stand in here, it's too stuffy. Can we stand on the balcony?" she asked lifted her eyes, almost bashfully, up to his. Finnick chuckled and used the pad of his thumb to brush the icing off her upper lip.

"You just don't want me to try and teach you to dance again," he teased. Ricochet scoffed but began pushing the cake around her plate giving her away. Finnick chuckled and hooked an arm behind Ricochet's middle to lead her to the balcony. "I'll teach you later tonight, if you wish."

"No, I have a better idea for tonight," she said nodding her head with a half-smile. Finnick quirked an eyebrow as he pushed the balcony door open. Ricochet glanced over her shoulder to make sure someone was guarding Snow, when she was satisfied with whoever it was standing beside the President she nodded at Finnick.

"And this brilliant idea of yours?" he asked wanting to mentally prepare himself for whatever twisted fantasy the Killer of Killers could have rolling around her mind, but she didn't say anything. She continued to the railing of the balcony, taking in a deep breath of the chilled air and watching the mountains hide her from the rest of the world.

And nothing else was said.

Snow watched from his position in the ballroom. He made absentminded small talk, diffused any worries about an uprising in any District close to the Capitol, and watched Ricochet with the ever charming Finnick Odair.

"Quite a present Mr. President," a woman said as she fanned herself with a lacey hand fan. She wore a bodice one size too small with breasts that were painted a brilliant gold, along with the rest of her except for the vibrant silver around her blue eyes. "I know many of my friends crushed his entire visit is devoted to your little guard dog." Her voice was tight, Snow assumed it was because she wasn't breathing properly in her gown.

"Hardly a dog, she's in more than you are, Edina, and Finnick seems quite taken with her," Snow defended gruffly as he sipped his fine wine. Edina scoffed and began fanning herself furiously.

"I don't need to buy man's affections, President Snow," she informed as she turned to go, flashing the large assortment of fabric bunched over her bottom to make her seem more curvaceous than she was. Her short legs were elongated by the high and thick heels she wore that clicked and clacked as she stalked off adding, "I am doing quite well on my own with that." Snow didn't watch the woman go. He looked into his dark red wine, swirling it a bit before lifting his eyes to Ricochet and Finnick on the balcony. He lifted his head as he took a deep breath, muttering to himself,

"Make it work, Odair. Make it work."