Ok so most of you though I was probably never going to update this story again. I actually was about to abandon it but then I got a lot of reviews asking me to continue. So you all (my lovely reviewers) deserve a round of applause for saving this story. You all are very inspirational. So this is chapter 7, and Cato and Katniss are finally heading off on the Victory Tour! Hoopla!

Disclaimer: I don't own the hunger games (if I did cato definitely would've lived)

Chapter 7: Twisted

My prep team arrives early the next day. After they all get over the shock of my eyebrows, which I have let grow back into their natural shape, they get straight down to getting me camera ready. Thankfully, as its cold out I don't need to be completely stripped of hair, I'll get the full works on the train. I don't know where Cato is, probably being worked over by his own team. I haven't spoken to him since President Snow's visit. I still haven't decided what to tell him.

"Cato's from district 2," Snow had said, "He'll do as he's told."

For some reason that doesn't sound like Cato to me. He may be bloodthirsty and ruthless, but a puppet? He doesn't strike me as the type. Then again he does come from district 2. Capitol pets, the whole lot of them. I frown and Octavia who's painting my lips gives me a questioning look. It's probably better that he doesn't know. He's a good enough actor, but if he knows how serious this is he'd probably mess up. But I do need to tell Haymitch, right away. The whole "Growing together" story might not be enough anymore.

When I am presentable I head downstairs to the living room. Cinna is there, along with my mother and Prim who are being interviewed. I embrace him. He looks the same as always, plain clothes with just a hint of gold eyeliner. I'm glad at least that he is here. It makes returning to the capitol bearable.

There are a few other capitol people that aren't camera crews. I assume they must be Cato's prep team and stylist. This is confirmed when he arrives a few moments later and they crowd around him. They've dressed him up, like me in warm winter clothes, but his shirt is the same light blue as his eyes. I shiver; it's the color of ice. His blonde hair has been spiked up. I can almost see him, all dressed up for his tribute interview before the games. He has the same cruel glint in his eyes then as he does now. He sees me looking at him and gives a slight smirk.

Rage colors my cheeks. I still haven't forgiven him for kissing me. Well actually I haven't forgiven him for a lot of things and I probably never will. As far as I'm concerned he really doesn't deserve to be forgiven. Even as I think it, however, a different image flashes through my mind. Cato, asleep, peaceful and innocent. I ignore it however, he killed Peeta he is not innocent.

Then Effie trots in reminding us all that we're on a tight schedule. She seems to have shifted her color palette from pink to orange, and is now sporting a pumpkin wig.

"Attention everyone," She pipes, "We're about to shoot the first outdoor shot. Katniss, Cato!" She herds us together. "Big smiles everyone."

Cato glances sideways at me, "Ready for this fire girl?" I don't even have time to respond before we are shoved out the door.

Half a dozen cameras train gleefully on our faces. Knowing what I have to do I lace my hand through Cato's. It's all I can do not to jerk away when I remember that it's the same hands that killed so many fellow tributes. But Cato takes it a step further. As we step out into the snow, which has begun to fall in light fluffy flakes, he gently tilts my chin upwards so I am looking into his cold blue eyes. Then he kisses me, in front of all the cameras of Panem. Unlike in the woods he's gentle, just a light brush on the lips. But even the thought of that other kiss makes my cheeks flush and I silently hate myself for it. All around us the capitol film crews are going mad. Now we're sure to be all anyone's talking about in the capitol. Good, I think, let them talk. I just hope Snow hears too.

On the train, without all the cameras Cato and I sink back into the unfriendly silence that hovers over us whenever we're alone. Effie ran off to schedule all our appearances, and I don't know where Haymitch went. That just leaves us two.

Cato turns on the high tech television. They're still broadcasting the footage of us boarding the train. After were shown on the platform, still hand in hand a green haired reporter appears. He cheerfully announces that "There could be more of Cato Evans and Katniss Everdeen yet to come."

"Turn it off." It's the first time I've spoken in over an hour.

He turns, "Why 12? Does it bother you?" He never calls me Katniss anymore, always 12 or fire girl. Apparently we've moved on from familiarities.

What reason could I give? That this makes me feel sick to my stomach? Or that watching us together makes me think of Peeta. It should be Peeta, not Cato holding my hand on the train platform. "Just turn it off okay."

"Someone's touchy." He smirked as he flipped the TV off. I wanted to walk right up and punch him, but I know what he can do.

"You know what?" I say heatedly, "Forget it. I don't care what you do."

He raises an eyebrow, "Really? Cause that's not the impression I got out there in front of the camera's. Or was that all an act too? You know just like you and lover boy in the games."

I'm shaking with rage. "Go to hell Cato." I whisper then storm from the room. I'm so angry that I walk strait into Haymitch. Like always he smells of spirits and there's a half empty glass in his hand.

"And where are you off to sweetheart?" The train lurches as we pull into a refueling station, and some of the alcohol in the glass sloshes out onto the carpet.

I suddenly remember that I need to talk to Haymitch. My anger at Cato had driven Presidents Snow's threat from my mind. "I need to talk to you…alone."

He glances up at the ceiling, probably checking for cameras, "Let's take a walk."

Outside is cold and I pull my jacket tight around myself. Cinna's skill for design is truly miraculous; the jacket is thin and light weight while still preserving my body heat.

"So?" Haymitch turns to face me when we're a good deal away from the train. "What's so important that we needed to talk in private?"

As I talk his eyebrows furrow, and when I finish he lets out a long breath. "This is even worse than I thought. Katniss you and Cato are going to have to pour your souls into this act, because your lives are going to depend on it."

I think of how I lost my temper at Cato, "I think I've already made it worse."

"Worse?"

"I yelled at Cato earlier." He grabs me by the arm and steers me towards the train. "Where are we going?"

"You're going to go apologize." Once we're back on the train he turns to me, "You might be out of the Arena Katniss, but the games aren't over yet."

Cato is still in the living room compartment where Ieft him, staring blankly at the wall. He turns when I walk in. "Back so soon? I thought you were gonna be sulking for at least another hour."

I try my best ignore the venom in his voice. "I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier."

He smirks, "And who told you to say that? Haymitch?"

"No." I say even though it's a lie, "I really am sorry."

"In that case," he stands, "So am I." But his icy eyes tell a different story. "Maybe I'll look forward to the next time we meet alone in the woods." It's the first time he's mentioned it. I had hope we would just pretend it never happened. He grins seeing the expression on my face and it's the grin I hate the most. Not the words, not the kiss for those are both things I could have gotten over in time. No. I hate how sure he is of his victory. He believes he can knock me to the floor with one single blow. The sick part is that he enjoys it. He like watching me bleed, break apart, and come undone. And just what the capitol wants; the girl on fire and the bloody boy from 2. All of this is twisted. All of this is wrong.