HungerWho37- Haha. Leave it to Effie to always set the pace of things. She does love to run a tight schedule ;)

Pale Is The New Tan- Yes, get on the boat! I had stumbled upon this pairing a while back and immediately fell in love. Hopefully you'll like this chapter too.

MangoMagic- Yes, Peeta will not fall so easily in this story, I'll make sure of that. Glad that you like where it's going.

Today was the final day of training before the session with the Gamemakers. Peeta was still making a general point to stay away from all the Careers, but he was now taking full advantage of the effect he had on Cato. He could feel the older boy's eyes follow him as he made his rounds to each station. At the snares station, Peeta accidentally nicked his finger and instead of wiping the blood on his pants leg as he would usually do, he made sure to seductively suck the blood off in a dramatic fashion.

Cato of course saw it and his breath faltered at the sight. He turned to refocus himself on slicing the dummy before him. Clove was next to him sharpening her knives and waiting her turn while the rest of the Careers weren't too far away busying themselves at other stations. Cato stuck his sword through the dummy, burying his aggression deep inside the stuffed mannequin. Peeta had gotten under his skin. He was purposely teasing the Career to mess with his head and it was working. That cannot go unpunished, the Career told himself. He will not get the better of me. I have to stay focused. Still, a simple glance at the smaller boy would cause his mind to wander straight into the gutter. Cato found himself zoning out into a fantasy, completely ignoring Clove calling for him…

It was late. Training was done for the day and the training room was empty. Except for Peeta. He stayed behind to practice snares a little longer. Cato stayed behind too, watching his prey. The younger boy felt eyes bore into him and looked over his shoulder just in time to see the brute tackle him. Cato straddled the boy's waist and bound his wrists with the rope from the snares. Resistance was futile. The younger blonde looked up at Cato with fear in his eyes, while Cato practically drooled. "What are you doing?" Peeta whimpered. "Taking what's mine. You're mine," Cato growled as he ground his hips against the boy beneath him. The baker's gasp was cut off with a rough but passionate kiss that was soon rewarded with a moan of pure pleasure by the younger boy as Cato repeatedly rocked his hips into him. "You like that don't you? I'm going to make you feel what no one else has. I'll have you screaming my name so the whole training center hears that I own you." With one hand still grabbing hold of Peeta's bound wrists, Cato licked his lips and unbuttoned the boy's pants…

"Cato! Earth to fuckin' Cato! For the millionth time get your stupid sword out of the dummy! It's my turn to practice at this station!"

Shit. He seriously had to snap out of it. He was in the middle of the training room sporting obvious wood. Without a word to Clove, he retrieved his sword and rushed to an unoccupied station to calm the fuck down. He would soon be in the arena, a place he prepared himself to be in his whole life. And now, at the eleventh hour, he was losing focus. He knew his hunger would never be fully satiated until he received his fill of the baker boy.

When it came time for the session with the Gamemakers, all the tributes sat in order outside the training room to wait their turn. Amid the nervous bouncing of knees of the weaker tributes and the overly relaxed and arrogant posture of the Careers, district 12 was seated in the very back, talking. "What are you planning on showing the Gamemakers, Peeta?" Katniss asked her partner.

"I think I'm going to highlight my combat skills and show them the extent of my strength," Peeta replied. "Are you going to focus on your skills with the bow?"

"Definitely; hit a couple bullseyes, throw a couple targets in the air to show my ability with moving targets. I'm not too concerned with my score, I just want them to be compelled enough that they'll put a bow in the arena," Katniss said.

"Sounds like a good enough plan as any," Peeta agreed.

The tributes were called in one by one, moving down the line until only district 12 remained. As each tribute was given 15 minutes for their session, they had been waiting their turn for over 5 hours. Incredibly restless, Katniss was finally called in for her turn.

"Hey, Katniss," Peeta called to her. "Shoot straight."

Peeta now sat alone in the dark corridor left with only his thoughts. He took in the reality of where he was. Not even a week ago, he was kneading bread in his father's bakery, going to school, and spending time in the woods training. Never in a million years did he think he'd actually find himself a tribute in the Hunger Games. Looking around at the cold steel and shadows of the training center corridor, it was all so surreal. He was really in the Capitol right now being exploited for their entertainment when he always thought his first visit to the Capitol would be to destroy it. The irony was not lost on him.

"District 12. Peeta Mellark. The Gamemakers will see you now."

Peeta passed the peacekeepers guarding the entrance to the training room and walked in to see all the Gamemakers socializing on the balcony. They were loud, laughing and gossiping with drinks of all sorts of concoctions in their hands. As Peeta walked closer to the balcony, he saw all the training equipment arranged for his choosing. He immediately went to retrieve some knives before addressing the Gamemakers.

"Hello. I'm Peeta Mellark from district 12. I'm ready to begin."

Not a single head turned to his greeting. They continued their partying as if they were already done for the day. Did they forget they still had one more tribute to judge? I know they've been stuck here for hours, but so have I.

"Excuse me! Sirs? I'm ready to begin my session!" He called out louder. Only one Gamemaker bothered to turn and acknowledge his presence. It was the head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane. He only nodded to Peeta before turning back around to watch a hot roasted pig being brought over by avoxes.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Peeta mumbled to himself in disbelief. He wasn't worried about the Gamemakers overhearing him as they were clearly preoccupied. "I'm fighting for my life here. All I ask for is just a few minutes of their time and they can't even give me that. Un-fucking-believable."

Peeta felt his heart sink as the thoughts he had back in the corridor crept back in. Here he was being exploited by the Capitol and there was nothing he could do about it. He was fighting for his life and they could care less. He suddenly got really pissed and he lost his temper.

"Ahhh!" Peeta screamed in fury as he broke into a full sprint towards a line of dummies. Each dummy took on the face of one of the Gamemakers in Peeta's mind as he slashed at them. He used every martial arts move in his repertoire as he slashed, stabbed, and beat the dummies until they no longer resembled human figures. Even when he got his knife stuck deep in one of the mannequins, he didn't stop. He simply grabbed the next closest weapon, a mace, to further disfigure and bludgeon the mangled dummies. The whole time he was screaming like a madman until he finally exhausted himself. Stepping back, he observed his handiwork and turned to face the Gamemakers. They were now all staring at him in shock like he had three heads. He had finally gotten their attention with his vicious tirade but he didn't care anymore. He was still furious.

Peeta stampeded towards the Gamemaker's balcony, stopping only to grab a giant steel weight on the way. Using the adrenaline and the extra momentum from his run, he spun and threw the steel ball as hard and as far as he could. It flew high in the air at his target: the Gamemakers. The ball soared over the balcony's ledge and crashed into the buffet table, catapulting the roasted pig into the air. The cooked swine was sent flying over the balcony and landed in a splat of shredded meat on the floor of the training center, right at Peeta's feet. The Gamemakers were stunned in silence.

Peeta's expression turned to horror as he approached the splattered pig on the floor. "What have I done? I'm so ashamed of my actions."

The Gamemakers heard his remorse and assumed it was due to his blatant disrespect for them. They were dead wrong and the real reason was a deliberate 'fuck you'. "I'm ashamed because a pig like that could have fed an entire family back in 12 for a week."

Just then, the timer buzzed and Peeta's fifteen minutes were up. He stared coldly at the Gamemakers before walking off. "Peeta Mellark. District 12. Thank you for your time."

That night, the district 12 team gathered around the couch to watch the broadcast of the training scores. They were all visibly nervous as Peeta had revealed to them just how his session went.

"Peeta, I must admit, you are incredibly lucky the Gamemakers didn't punish you right there on the spot for your insolence," Effie chastised him from the corner of the couch.

"Oh leave the boy alone, woman," Haymitch barked. "The whole purpose of the Gamemaker's session is to make them remember you. I think he did exactly that. Man, I wish I was there to see the look on their faces. Priceless." He snickered as he reached over to pat Peeta on the back. Peeta smirked.

The group's attention was then pulled to the TV as Caesar's cosmetically altered face lit up the screen. "Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the announcement of the 74th annual Hunger Games training scores. Our tributes are quite the bunch this year and were sure to bring everything to the table for our Gamemakers. So, without further ado, let's get the evening started with District 1…"

The training scores were announced in order. Glimmer and Marvel both received 9's, Cato and Clove had exceptional 10's, Coral received an 8 and Cast a 9, the girl from five everyone nicknamed 'Foxface' earned a 5, and Jazz and Pip from district six only managed to get a 4 each. Thresh received a 9 and little Rue climbed her way to a 7.

"And the final district of the evening. From district 12, Katniss Everdeen, with a training score of… 10!"

"Woo hoo!"

"Way to Go Katniss!"

"Congratulations Dear!"

"I knew they'd go crazy for your shooting!"

Everyone was praising the huntress, who blushed and just humbly smiled. She was confident in her skill and it was nice to be recognized.

"And finally, from district 12, Peeta Mellark, with a training score of… oh, my goodness…"

Uh oh, Peeta thought as he felt a wave of nausea. He really pissed them off and now he knew why they hadn't punished him right then and there. They were waiting to get back at him through his training score. He cringed as he waited for the dismal score that was to ensure he didn't get a single sponsor in the arena.

"… a training score of 11! And there you have it folks! You'll get to hear from our beloved tributes tomorrow at their interviews. Goodnight!"

Peeta sat in silence as the screen went black. Suddenly the room erupted into applause. He was assaulted with hugs and pats on the back, cheers and congratulations. He heard none of it. He was still in shock.

"An 11? How? I threw a steel ball at them!" Peeta thought out loud.

"Well, you said you also obliterated a bunch of dummies using an array of fighting techniques. They probably saw the skill and passion behind it," Katniss offered in answer.

"They could also be putting a target on your back, boy," Haymitch solemnly added. "You scored higher than the Careers. With their egos, they'll be gunning for you now more than ever."

"Well that's just great," Peeta sarcastically replied. "I just had to lose my temper."

"Look on the bright side, my dear," Effie chimed in. "No matter the reason, a score like that is sure to procure you a multitude of sponsors!"

"The pink-haired lady's got a point," Haymitch agreed. "Nobody but us and the Gamemakers know why you got that score. As long as you keep a level head in that arena, this will all work out in our favor."

Peeta nodded but still felt unnerved by the day's events. He wasn't sorry for what he did, but he knew he made things more difficult for himself. He may have gotten sponsors out of this, but it didn't make up for the enemies he was sure to have made for himself. The Gamemakers controlled the arena and, ultimately, held his life in their hands. Not to mention Peeta was sure the Careers weren't going to take this lightly. He had to watch his back more than ever. He wondered if Cato was proud of him, but quickly smacked himself in the head for such a stupid and pointless thought.

The Careers, as usual, had all congregated on district 1's floor to watch the broadcast of training scores. They were all feeling high and mighty with their exemplary performances and scores. Thresh's score of 9 had rivaled theirs, but they took it with a grain of salt. Cato and Clove's scores of 10 assured them that even if they split up and ran into the giant from 11, they'd be just fine. The pack wasn't prepared for the night's finale though. They were shocked at the announcement of Katniss' 10.

"What the hell?" Coral cried out. The majority of the Careers were exclaiming their own versions of surprise. The pack didn't know she had it in her. Granted, she hid her true skills every step of the way, but they didn't know that... until now.

"She was holding out on us," Clove smirked. "Clever little bitch."

They were all boiling from Katniss' surprise score when Peeta's score was revealed. Every last one of them looked like they just got punched in the gut and then smacked in the face.

"What the fuck! An 11! No fucking way!" Glimmer was madly shrieking.

"I want him dead! I want him dead so fucking bad!" Coral was just as livid.

"This has to be some sick joke," Cast stammered disbelievingly. "They're from district 12. It isn't supposed to be this way. How did he do it?"

"We all saw them during training," Marvel spoke. "They were both pretty good. Maybe they were just dicking around the whole time as part of their strategy to trick us into thinking they weren't a threat. I think Clove is right. Katniss was holding out on us and, apparently, Peeta was too."

"Look," Cato now joined in as he stood to address his pack, "no matter what strategy those two were trying to go for, no matter if they were dicking around with us during training the whole time or not, it doesn't make a damn bit of difference now. Their scores busted their little charade wide open. They can't trick us anymore. We know better now and we'll be ready for them."

"It's great and all that we now know they're dangerous, but there's still the issue of not knowing what it is that makes them dangerous," Clove informed them. "We don't know the extent of what they showed the Gamemakers to get those scores. We could still be in for a rude awakening."

As the pack dispersed to their designated floors for the night, Cato was still stunned by the training scores. The girl from 12, district 12, had received the same score as him. It was shameful, really. District 12 was a joke; nothing compared to the elite district 2. And here they were showing them all up. The boy from 12, his boy, had somehow managed to get a higher training score than him. A part of him was pleased with the baker boy's performance as Cato only deserved the best, but the other part of him was jealous and just plain confused. He couldn't wrap his mind around it all. The boy from 12 was an enigma. Who are you, Peeta? What are you hiding? What are you truly capable of?