This is my first attempt to write a Cato/Katniss fic. Please do not expect that this story will follow the timeline as the book or the movie does. Also, I am writing from memory, and so, if there are any details that are inaccurate, please leave it at just that.

Hope you enjoy reading! :)

The lights of the Capitol blinded her even though they were way up in the fancy hotel. The Capitol seemed so big with its massive, brightly-lit buildings spreading out from one end to the other. District 12, on the other hand, was miniscule compared to this. The whole population of the Seam can even fit into this entire room. This suite, she realized, was unnecessarily big—but then again, this was the Capitol and there were a lot of things in excess, and there were a lot of things unnecessary.

She clutched the Mockingjay pin to her chest. This small gift is a memory of home—of Prim, of Gale, of the memories in the woods. This is what she needs to win—to go back to Prim, to District 12. This is to make her remember that she needs to become the Victor.

Katniss walked away from the windows and sat on the fur-lined couch.

"This is so exciting! So, what do you think Katniss? Isn't the Capitol so pretty? And look at all the decorations! These were made to welcome the tributes." Effie squealed in excitement, her energy having no signs of running out anytime soon, despite the long train ride.

"It's stupid." Katniss muttered so the annoying woman can just stop talking to her. Sure, everything was made to "honor" the tributes. But it didn't cover up the fact that 23 of them were going to die—all so that the Capitol can have its entertainment. There is nothing entertaining about death, even more so a violent one.

24 of them took the train to the Capitol and only one will be going back home. The 23 who dies have said their last words to their families when they left for the Hunger Games. No one from these 23 will be going back alive nor dead. 48 parents will be watching the Games intently—praying, crying, shouting, full of hope to see their children alive. But then again, 46 of them will mourn. Every year, children die, parents cry and the Capitol entertained.

The familiar stench of alcohol permeated the room. It can only mean one thing—Haymitch.

The middle-aged man could barely support himself as his feet dragged towards the direction of the pantry, obviously getting another bottle of some alcoholic substance that he can get his hands on. He seemed so focused on not tripping that he didn't even notice that the two women were in the same room.

"I swear, that oaf has drunk too much to not even realize that he reeks of what he drinks." Effie shook her head, her tongue clicking in disgust. To escape from the ugly sight, she just turned her attention to Katniss. "Katniss, tomorrow will be a big, big day! Your stylists will be coming here to fix you up, and of course, also Peeta. I bet you're excited."

Katniss snorted. Yeah right.

Effie was about to start chattering again when the lights flickered, followed by a loud, distinct buzzing. The sound was like a bee's, a wasp's or a Tracker Jacker's, but louder. Katniss looked up to the ceiling lights, seeing them dim for the next few seconds until it was back to normal. The suite was momentarily bathed in darkness, but immediately was coated with light once again.

The Capitol woman sighed in relief, her vision plastered to the ceiling. "Oh my, that has never happened before. I wonder why that's happening." She began to fan herself as if she was in a state of panic. "Oh, I hope it's not going to be a power outage the next time it happens. I can't live without electricity!"

Katniss was used to these kinds of occurrences back in the Seam. But they always ended up in what one could call a blackout. When it happened, they would all light candles late at night to make sure they don't get used up that much. It actually made her feel better that the Capitol had these kinds of inconveniences.

Katniss smiled at the thought.

Effie waited until all the lights were bright and blinding before speaking. "Whoo! Now that's over, where were we? Oh! Your makeovers. You wouldn't believe the stylist we got for both of you this year—"

Katniss rolled her eyes that Effie started yapping again. She stood up and ran past her.

"I'm going out." She said, not bothering to look back.

Cato cracked his neck several times before cracking his knuckles. The muscles that bulged all over his body, albeit flatteringly, were aching to do some training before the Hunger Games begin. His mentor, Brutus, was shouting at him not to leave the room, but that pissed him even more than he did during the train ride. He decided to take longer and go up the roof just to see Brutus ticked off when he comes back.

His floor to the last may be a long trip, but he could say that nobody dared enter when they saw him glare. Now, it was back to his initial agenda which was going to the gym—do some heavy lifting, practice with the swords, and do some damage to the dummies. He curled his fist from anticipation. He couldn't wait to try it on another tribute. Spilling blood, breaking necks, piercing flesh—yes, those were all his specialties.

He is going to be the Victor, and nothing, or rather no one, in hell is going to change that.

The familiar ding of the elevator broke him from his thoughts. When the doors opened, he was met with a girl inside the confined space, looking at a tiny object in her hand. He waited for her to go out, but she didn't. It infuriated him because the bimbo wasn't aware of where she was, and instead just stood there. If she was going down too, he wasn't sharing the elevator willingly.

After a few moments, the girl dropped her hands and looked at him. "Down?"

Cato grunted. She had no fucking clue. Fine. He went inside, bumping her arm slightly to make her know he was pissed. But she didn't even notice that.


He pressed a button and then they were moving. He looked through the mirrors on the walls, and saw that the girl was an olive-skinned brunette, had gray eyes, and was petite and skinny.

An easy enough prey for the games.

She was a tribute, from the looks of it, and a poor one at that. From her dress which he guessed was made with cheap material and her messy hair, he could say that this girl right here was one of the rats from the poorer districts. She was from one of the districts that don't consider being a tribute an honorable status. These kinds of people for him were a joke. Who wouldn't want to be a Victor?

The elevator moved smoothly and quietly, descending down without any stopovers, which he liked. But when they hit the fourth floor, everything shook.

Cato lost his footing, and the girl was pushed to the floor. He was able to hold on to the walls to keep steady and preventing him from falling. The lights of the elevator were also slowly dying out, leaving an orange glow that can be seen from what he recognizes as an emergency light.

They waited for what seemed like a few minutes before they moved.

The brunette sat herself properly on one corner, facing the door. And Cato placed himself on the other corner, intent on staying on his side. Great, just great. Now, he's stuck with the runt and he won't be able to train right away like he wanted. He would have to wait out this fucking blackout before he could do anything.

5 minutes…10 minutes…15…20…30 minutes passed in silence. He was counting.

Cato was frustrated. He had been sitting for too damn long. He stood up and began punching on the doors. His fists were used to abusing hard surfaces, but this kind of practice was not training. This was kid's play. He gave a particularly hard jab on to the right side of the door and was able to leave a slight dent on the steel. He smirked.

"You're going to break that." He heard a voice behind him say.

He turned around. "What? What did you say?" He grabbed the collar of her dress and lifted her off the ground like a rag doll.

She merely looked at him, her eyes not avoiding his furious gaze. "I said, you're going to break the door." Her voice calm, but stern.

He pushed her roughly into the wall. "And why is it your business to tell me that?"

Cato looked into her equally angry eyes until she hit his nose really hard.

"You bitch!" He dropped her from his grip. He wiped his fingers on his nose to see if there's any sign of blood.

And, there was none.

Fuck the rules that we're not supposed to attack each other before the Games.

His fist was prepared to hit her, but the PA both got their attention.

"System recovery in 5…4…3…2…1."

The elevator began to light up, as the orange bulb automatically switched off. And before the both of them knew it, the door was opened to the ground floor.

Swiftly, the girl bolted out of the elevator. Cato wanted to chase her and teach her a lesson. But then, if he did just that, he wouldn't have the chance to have fun with her during the Games.

Oh, he would have plans just for her. He cracked his knuckles again, preparing to step out, but before he could, something glistened on the carpeted floor.

It was a golden Mockingjay pin.

So, how goes the story?

Please review! :)