February 5th, 2012

A/N: Wow, so I'm on a roll today... You guys are getting spoiled silly. This is the last surprise update though... I really have to study for my exam tomorrow. Boo. Thanks for all the reviews! They inspired me to to keep going. I did left some dialogue from Mockingjay for this scene. I do not take credit for that piece of the conversation or any of the characters, situations, etc etc... :)

The winter is absolutely malicious today. Even the inside of the Hob is painfully frigid, despite the shelter from the whipping wind. The walls creak around me as I make my way to Sae's soup stall, in search of some heat. Anything to put some warmth back into my frozen body. Peacekeeper uniforms may be Capitol-made but they definitely do not overspend to ensure our personal comfort.

Gotta save that money for their fancy surgeries and what not, I think.

Greasy Sae's stall is surrounded by people. A gray wool cap sticks out above the crowd. They part to let me through instantly, another perk of Peacekeeper status –I'm not delusional enough to believe it's out of genuine politeness – and I see her sitting cross-legged on the counter. She clutches a bowl of soup in her gloved hands, wincing as she slurps the steaming broth too quickly.

"Better slow down, Miss Everdeen," I say, leaning against the post of the stall. "Don't wanna burn that pretty little mouth of yours."

Though her mouth offers an amused smirk, her eyes narrow at me, shooting gray flames my direction. Katniss takes my teasing because she's smart enough to know she has to. Her open disgust only drives me forward. She leans back, guarding her soup protectively, when I encroach over her shoulder.

"Just wanted to see what soup was on today…" I step back, raising my hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Wild dog," Katniss says. Her smile is cheeky. "Probably a little below your standards, Darius."

She and Sae exchange a conspiratorial grin. The game is on.

"What would you know of my standards, Katniss?" I ask, cocking my head at her just in case she misses the double meaning in my words.

Another brief fury of fire tells me she doesn't.

"I can imagine," she says. "I couldn't possibly make a trade worth your while."

The implications of her comment should make me angry. I realize that most of my after-duty activities are abhorred by many people in this godforsaken district. I also realize that many of the people who detest them also come knocking on my door every so often.

Except Katniss Everdeen.

Nope, not once has she caved to trade me favors for a coin or two. She stays far away from my door in the evening. Good old Hawthorne has seen to that.

"Oh I don't know about that," I tease, fueled by the thought of her best friend. Really, truly, it's probably too bland of a term for them. Friends. I've seen the way they look at each other. It's rare for me to have caught them apart, as I seem to have done today.

"I think a rabbit or two might do it," I say.

Katniss frowns, chewing and considering her next move carefully.

"A rabbit for what?" She stares at me suspiciously, her eyes drifting momentarily for her game bag and I see that the thought of an honest trade actually intrigues her. Too bad I'm not considering an honest exchange.

"A kiss." I reach out to twist her braid between my fingers, tickling her cheek with its end. She smacks my hand away impatiently.

"That's not a fair trade," she says.

"Agreed," Sae says, taking Katniss' finished bowl. "Her rabbits are quality. Never destroys the pelt, this one."

"So are my kisses," I counter.

Katniss crosses her arms, unimpressed and unconvinced.

"Come on, Katniss," I say. She ducks her shoulder when I reach out for her braid again. "Consider the source…"

She raises her eyebrows pointedly. Her look is incredulous, mocking. Daring me to prove her wrong.

"You know what they say about red-heads…"

She snorts.

"Actually I don't."

Probably true, I think, slightly irritated at her nonchalance. Not when she has Mr. Handsome-Mysterious-Prince-Charming at her beck and call.

"We're the most virile of them all," I say.

There's a moment of silence and I'm considering that she doesn't know the meaning of that word when her face cracks into a wide grin and she doubles over laughing. Sae's cackle joins in with Katniss' melodic laughter and suddenly I'm scrambling to recover some semblance of pride. A sixteen-year-old is taking me for a fool.

"Who is the most virile of them all?"

I turn to see Hawthorne striding forward, his game bag haphazardly tossed over his shoulder. I wonder if he sees the pink in Katniss' cheeks darken ever so slightly, the spark light up in her eyes when she looks at him.

"Darius was trying to prove that one of my rabbits, possibly two," Katniss explains, her gloved fingers emphasizing our talking price, " was worth one of his kisses…"

Before she's finished, the devastating full force of Gale's glare is upon me. He keeps his expression light, interested, but the threat in his eyes is less warning and more promise. I am forced to look away.

"… trying being the key word there."

"All right, I'll prove it," I say. I spin to survey the crowd of people, dispersed randomly at the different stalls of the black market, searching for a familiar face. It doesn't take me long to find one.

"The women with the blue jacket, fabrics stall?" I ask.

Katniss and Sae nod, still giggling at my nonsense. Gale glowers.

"If I recall, I think our final price was a blueberry pie…"

This sends Katniss and Sae into another round of hysteria, so much so that Katniss blots her eyes with the back of her hands. Tears fall freely in the wrinkles of Sae's old face. I spot another girl, standing ten feet away measuring out salt, her neck swathed in a green muffler. I nod in her direction.

"See? The one in the green muffler? Go ahead and ask her," I say, casually leaning back against the stall post. "If you need a reference."

Katniss shakes her head and hops down from the counter.

"Trust me, I don't."

She moves towards Hawthorne, who shifts imperceptibly to accommodate her closeness. I do not miss the protective hand he places on the small of her back. Our eyes meet and I entertain the challenge in his stare with one of my own.

"Come on Gale, I'm freezing," she says. He loses the duel, dropping our locked eyes for her. The hardness melts from his face instantaneously.

"I'll catch up," he says. "Let me settle with Greasy Sae."

Katniss gives him a quizzical look, but nods and shoulders her game bag, weaving through the crowd to the Hob entrance. Hawthorne waits until she's disappeared from view before rounding on me, his hand catching my arm in an impossibly tight grip.

"Don't."

The consequence of one word is evident in the stress of his voice. The tone is low and dangerous. If Hawthorne was a dog, I can practically hear the menacing growl that would come ripping through his chest. I glance warily from his face to his hand and back. The circulation to my lower arm is fading.

"Don't what?" I feign innocence.

The grip on my arm tightens and Hawthorne steps closer, rising to his full imposing height.

"Gentlemen, not at my stall," Sae warns. We ignore her.

"You know what," he says. His words are slow, pointed. "She's. Off. Limits."

Though I know better than to antagonize him, I can't help the arrogant smirk that twists across my face. Taunting.

"Is she, Hawthorne? I wasn't aware," I say, an acerbic tone to my voice. "You better fix that perception…"

I pull my arm out of his grip, letting my words sink in, before striding away, cutting Hawthorne's fight off at the knees. Peacekeeper uniforms may be Capitol-made but they definitely do not overspend to ensure our personal comfort… or protection.

~Fin