Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

The Ten Unwritten Rules of Being a Hunger Games Victor

By Fanfic Allergy

Rule Four:

We sat in silence for several long minutes. Peeta handed me a cheese bun and I accepted it absently even though I wasn't hungry. This was still District Twelve and I was still a Seam kid even though the circumstances had changed. That didn't mean that they couldn't just as quickly change back. I also knew that Peeta's offer wasn't charity, something I still couldn't stomach, it was his way of doing something to alleviate this uncomfortable silence.

I tore a small piece of bread and put it in my mouth. It was good. The flavors of the herbs and cheese baked in danced across my palate. Peeta really could bake. I tore off another piece and looked over at Haymitch.

He was sprawled back onto one elbow his legs haphazardly strewn in front of him. He was watching Peeta and I with an odd glint in his eyes. I wasn't sure if it was amusement, affection, or annoyance. It was very likely all three.

Placing the small bite in my mouth, I chewed it carefully thinking about what I wanted to say. Finally I decided that what I really wanted to do was ask a question. So I did. "Why did you bring us to the Meadow?"

"I thought you liked nature," he countered.

"I do. But you don't. So what gives?"

Haymitch smirked and then took another pull from the bottle. "I can't put anything over on you, Princess."

"Get to the point."

I caught Peeta nodding in agreement next to me.

"Fine, kiddies. I brought you here because of Rule Four: Watch what you say and to who. Just because the you aren't in the arena anymore doesn't mean that people aren't watching you. It's a lot harder to bug a field than a house. Not that it can't be done. But it's more difficult."

"Are you saying that our houses are bugged?" Peeta asked.

"Who knows. If I were the Capitol, I'd want to keep an eye on those people smart, ruthless, and lucky enough to make it out of the Games alive."

"So why do you live in one of those houses?" I wanted to know. "That means they'd be spying on you too?"

Peeta snorted. "They probably stopped listening to Haymitch long ago. I mean, how many times can you listen or watch someone get sick every morning before you'd vomit yourself. A week? Maybe two? Add in the snores, burps and expletives and whoever's got Haymitch duty's one bored tech."

I narrowed my eyes. "Then we should have had this conversation at your place."

"Do you really want to go back? I can't remember when the last time the place was cleaned. Maybe a year or so ago. Whenever Effie gets too annoyed with it and hires someone to clean it up."

I thought about the stench that rolled off of Haymitch most of the time and then multiplied it and gagged at the result. No, we were better out here in the Meadow. Still, knowing how small the film equipment was from the Games, every insect or flower could be housing a camera or microphone.

Unbidden, I shivered.

AN:

Considering in the books that the cameras that broadcast the games aren't seen or heard and then there is the fact that Snow has gotten intimate details of Katniss' life without setting off her hunter's instinct of being watched, makes me think that Panem has technology capable of covert spying. Also there is the fact that cameras and microphones are manufactured and sold that are no larger than the eraser of a pencil. I know in Catching Fire Katniss seems oblivious to the fact that someone would be watching her until Snow shows up. That always felt a little well, unrealistic. I'd rather that she'd thought about it and then decided that the Capitol wouldn't take the trouble to spy on her or she was convinced of her own invincibility like most teenagers are.

I hope to hear from you about how you liked this chapter. Reviews are the currency of the fanfic writer, we receive no other reward.

Thank you for reading.