The First Dance: Hunger Games AU

Sherlock had always expected this moment to come one day. But he never could have expected it to wait until he was almost home free. "John Watson!" Or that his best friend would be the one reaped for the Hunger Games instead of him. Thus his next action was entirely instinctual.

"I volunteer as tribute!" John did not deserve such a fate as this. Despite despising the Capitol with a burning passion, Sherlock's most faithful friend had served dutifully as a variant of a Peacekeeper for District 3 for as long as Sherlock had known him. Now he was training to be a healer which their area desperately needed. Hell, the whole District needed John too much for him to risk dying in the Games. But they didn't need an ass like Sherlock himself.

"Sherlock," John pleaded as Sherlock made his way to the stage, grabbing his arm. "You don't have to do this. Please."

"It's too late, John."

"The District needs you."

"Let. Go." He hated being so cold to his only friend. But Sherlock had made his choice. He yanked his arm out of John's grasp. They would have plenty of time for the final goodbyes in a bit anyway. Mycroft certainly wouldn't wish him luck after this stunt. The youth simply had to keep himself from looking back at John. They both knew even with Sherlock's almost inhuman intellect and deductive reasoning the odds of him coming out of the Games were slim. And he had worked far too hard to build his emotionless reputation. If he turned to look at his friend now, one or both of them may do something they'd both regret…

That was almost a year ago. Now Sherlock was sitting in the luxury car provided by the "generous" Capitol, being driven towards the President's Victor Ball in his honor. Sherlock could really care less about this whole scene really. If he had his way he would curl up in a nook with one of President Snow's and hide from everyone in the party. Sure he was a bit of a show off by nature but something about the ostentatious people in the Capitol just bored or irritated him.

"Now, Sherlock, remember everything I told you. Smiles and manners need to abound! Oh and try not to do that invasive reading trick thingy you do." The young victor ignored his liaison, Andus, continuing to watch the perfectly poised trees and shrubs pass by. "Sherlock." He didn't answer. "Sherlock Holmes, are you listening to me?" Sherlock rolled his icy eyes at the Capitol assigned pest.

"No, I'm not. And that 'invasive reading thingy' is called deduction. It's not my fault everyone is so easy to read here."

"Yes well none of that," Andus reminded as he used his window to smooth a stray eyebrow into place. "It's rude and makes people very uncomfortable."

"So do overzealous Peacekeepers." He ignored the shock gasp-squeak hybrid Andus produced. He had always been an outright verbally opposition of the Capitol but he was so useful and helpful to District 3's Peacekeepers that they would usually look the other way and pretend they didn't hear him. He was certainly going to be very popular.

"Sherlock, I don't know what it's like in District 3, but here in the Capitol you cannot say things like that."

"I'm a victor now, Andus. It's not like President Snow can do much to me without incurring the Capitol's wrath."

"Sherlock! You absolutely cannot say things like that! I understand you miss your beau but-"

"Oh for heaven's sake! John is not my boyfriend!" The District 3 victor practically leaped out of the car once they had finally reached the Presidential Palace. The teen genius wasn't quite sure how it had happened, but the Capitol was now convinced Sherlock was madly in love with John. Not that they were related but they were in a romantic relationship. Which, of course, only provided Sherlock with another if somewhat shallow reason to dislike the Capitol. As if his current bright silver metallic suit wasn't reason enough.

"Whatever you say, Sherlock dear."

"Do not call me that."

"Now please be on your best behavior. The youngest Odinson boy has specifically requested to meet you."

"'Odinson?'"

"Why you can't tell me you've never heard of the Odinson family!?"

"Oh yes, because it's so simple for people in the Districts to follow people in the Capitol."

"Why, they are the most powerful family in the Capitol! Under President Snow himself of course. They are almost always able to pick out who will be the victor of the Hunger Games and provide the most support and sponsorship to the tributes. In fact, most of your aid would have most like came from them."

"Oh."

"The two sons usually don't attend these parties though and especially not Loki himself. He's a bit of a recluse which is such a shame he is quite a handsome young man."

"Loki…" Sherlock did remember that the little messages included with the sponsor gifts were all signed with an "L" rather than any of his mentors' initials. "Why would he want to meet me?"

"Well because you're a victor of course! Everyone wants to meet you!"

"There are plenty who would disagree with you in District 3."

"And you are his victor in a way. Rumor has it he went against his family betting on you. I've never heard of him taking such a shine to a tribute before." His victor? Sherlock was now extremely curious about his mysterious benefactor. "He's actually about your age, Sherlock. Perhaps he saw a kindred spirit in you."

"Kindred spirit?" The Victor had to scoff at that one. "What kind of 'kindred spirit' could a Capitol Citizen find with me?"

"Well Loki is a bit of an eccentric loner. He's also a genius from what I've heard, always hidden away with a new book but living under his father and brother's shadows… I imagine he's very lonely…"

"You've never met him?"

"Well no. Like I said he keeps to himself most of the time. This is the first I've even heard of him attending a ball for a victor."

"Really now?" Most Capitol Citizens were ridiculous party animals from what Sherlock had gathered watching them. As Andus guided him around the various shades of blue, purple, and black (Sherlock knew he would regret telling Flickerman his favorite colors), the young genius contemplated what his mysterious sponsor must be like. The idea of a reclusive Capitol Citizen… It was somewhat like watching a dog walk on his hind legs. Rare and unbelievable. So naturally he did not realize when he had stumbled upon the surprising citizen.

Sherlock had finally been released from Andus's guided tour of boredom and had anchored himself to the bar, gasping for air. "I don't care what you give me… Just make sure its ice cold…" He told the bartender, tugging on his collar. Capitol Couture didn't breathe and Sherlock was cooking in his (literally) metal suit. The boy was very tempted to just strip there and now in front of everyone. Wouldn't Andus just loooove that.

"Here. On me." A tall glass of ice and water was slid into his line of sight. "Looks like you could use this."

"Thank you." With that, Sherlock downed the drink in one fell swoop, relishing the refreshing cold. "Aah… I needed that."

"I could tell. Your face was a tomato. If that is one of Rosaline's designs, I know she cares very little for the wearer's comfort," the velvety voice replied.

"'Beauty is pain and pain makes beauty,'" Sherlock squeaked in his best imitation, turning to meet his current source of hydration. "That's her mot… to…" The pale youth before him wore a smirk at Sherlock's speechlessness.

"Ah yes. So I've heard. That makes me feel all the more sorry for her tributes." The Victor wanted to make a snide comment that tributes had more pressing matters to worry about, but the normally unflappable teen was still slightly stunned by the handsome visage before him. Emerald eyes glittered with mischief, as if enjoying Sherlock's stunned silence. He was dressed in a simple black suit accented by an emerald and gold tie. His face was framed by slicked back jet black hair. "Do I leave you speechless, Mr. Holmes?"

"Only because you dress so… Normally." The youth raised a thin eyebrow, surprised.

"Normally? Based off a boy wearing a tin suit?"

"I did not choose this suit. And you're not wearing a bird or a gear."

"Oh of course not. I look far better without the gimmicks and I am very much hoping you do too." Sherlock nodded in agreement with how the youth looked but frowned at the knock to his current outfit. "Now, Mr. Holmes. Would you care to dance?"

"Are you flirting with me? Why, I don't even know your name." This banter was a bit pointless. They both knew Sherlock was going to dance with this mysterious stranger. It would certainly dispel any rumors on if he was dating anyone or not. "And haven't you heard? I'm a taken man."

"Oh don't be coy you. We both know that fop is not your boyfriend. You, good Mr. Holmes, are a free agent and I shall dance with you if I so please. So cut the games and let's dance." With that, the mysterious youth dragged Sherlock onto the multicolored dance floor, easily weaving through the crowd.

"I still don't know your name! And won't it look odd, two handsome young men dancing together? People might talk." The youth flashed him a blindingly mischievous grin.

"This is the Capitol, my handsome Victor. They don't care. And since I am Loki Odinson, they expect nothing less from me. Although…" Loki tugged Sherlock into his arms, seemingly unaware of the concept of personal space. Not that the victor minded too much. There was a hint of mint wafting from the boy that smelled absolutely heavenly. Just subtle enough to exist but not overpower like the rest of the partygoers. "You'll be my first victor."

"Oh. Well how lucky for me. I'm sure many of the female victors before me would adore you."

"Most of them were idiots. How District 1 won two years ago I'll never know. She had the aim of a drunken chicken and the intelligence of a walnut."

"Isn't your family known for picking the winners?"

"We didn't pick her. Besides, I myself rarely participate in such bets. Far too hit and miss for my refined tastes."

"So… did you bet on me?" Loki grinned, emerald eyes smoldering.

"Indeed I did, Mr. Holmes. Did you enjoy my uh… Love Letters?"

"I enjoyed your food and supplies more."

"I see. You only like me for my money. I put some real thought into those, you twit."

"In my defense, I was fighting for my life. I did not have time for love letters. Though I did keep the pendant you sent me." The tribute reached into his collar and pulled the chain around his neck out, revealing a miniaturized version of the casings sponsor gifts were delivered in. "Proved useful for berries and string." Sherlock did not admit, however, that it currently carried something else Loki had sent inside. That he had kept one of Loki's notes, one which saved his life when he was ready to forfeit the Games…

"I imagine that it'll come quite in handy for you, Mr. Holmes," Loki assured with a knowing grin.

"Sherlock, please."

"…Sherlock then. Suits you much better anyways."

"Why thank you, Loki." Sherlock found himself quite comfortable in his sponsor's arms, swaying through the crowd in time to the sultry waltz. Something about the young man's quick wit and charm just made Sherlock feel right at home in the otherwise unfamiliar setting. Loki seemed to be as much of an outcast as Sherlock was if his simple style and Andus's gossip was anything to go by. "I'm quite fond of it myself."

"So enough about you. How are things in your District? I've never had a chance to visit." And there was the question Sherlock loathed and dreaded most. District 3 was definitely nowhere near as bad off as say District 12 was but they certainly weren't thriving in happiness and butterflies either. But that was what was expected of the Victor to say. To be grateful to the wonderfully generous Capitol. And that was the exact opposite of what he felt. But he had quickly learned that most of the Capitol Citizens genuinely did not realize what was really happening in the Districts. "You don't have to tell me…"

"We're alive." That was all Sherlock could say without getting himself into deep trouble. Lucky for the Victor, Loki seemed to understand, his previous cocky-in-a-sexy-way smirk fading into a more hardened and slightly sympathetic focus. "We're better off than some of the other districts."

"I see." Before the awkward conversation could continue any further, the Capitol Anthem began to play, cuing President Snow's speech. Both Sherlock and Loki joined the applause for Panem's dictator, each equally disappointed for having to be separated. President Snow's speech usually signaled the end of the night according to Andus and Sherlock really wanted to spend more time with Loki. "Here," Loki whispered, slipping something into Sherlock's pocket.

"What's that?"

"Directions to my home. I'm expecting you to visit me often, Mr. Holmes. And besides…" His sponsor turned back to President Snow feigning interest and adoration. "We'll need your help if District life is to improve. And it will soon." Sherlock wasn't quite sure what he meant by that but something about the determined glint of rebellion in Loki's eye told him he would find out soon. "A fire is starting in Panem…"