A/N: As promised, Chapter 6 is now up! Once again I'm really, really sorry for the delayed update. I didn't die or anything, it's just that school started last June and I had little time to write (it's actually our midterms this week but WTH right update day is update day). Thank you, thank you to everybody who's been reviewing and giving their comments, suggestions and violent reactions! It was fun reading them :) Thank you for letting me know your opinions, please keep them coming!

Anons! Thank you for all your reviews, too. :) It's too bad that you don't have accounts so I can thank you personally, so I'll just put 'em here.

Parris Monique Adele Silver - Hi! I apologize if you didn't find the "Blondie" thing funny, but don't worry, there's a lot more about Glimmer that we don't know.. yet. I hope you'll stay tuned to find out what they are :)

Priscilla X. Silver - Thank you! It's such a shame that Finnick died, don't you think? I like his character a lot, too, that's why I really make an effort to include him in this story. :)

IceIcePoison - I still don't know if I the story will go on that direction.. but who knows? Thanks for the review!

Guests, Alyssa and Loonyme - Thank you so much for your reviews! Stay awesome! :)

There! :)) Anyways, on with the story. This one's pure Cato/Katniss, enjoy!

"You shouldn't have made me come with you if you're just going to act like I'm not even here," I tell Cato. It's becoming hard to consistently glower at his back; with the arduous task of climbing over boulders and the harsh midday sun beating down on us.

We were about only a quarter of a mile away from camp when we came across a stream. With the sweltering heat and our dangerously low water supply, it wasn't very had to lure us. The Gamemakers are making it difficult, though. Boulders as tall as Cato are blocking our path.

"As far as I can remember, you offered to accompany me in finishing that District Eight girl," he says, hauling himself over the last humongous boulder. He ended the girl's suffering fast and easy, puncturing her aorta with a needle-thin sword. It only took her four heartbeats before her cannon sounded.

Cato lands on his feet with a soft thud, something you wouldn't expect from somebody his size. "Or have you forgotten because you're too busy blowing Marvel a goodbye kiss?"

"As far as I can remember, it's Tamara I offered my company to. And I didn't blow Marvel a kiss. Maybe you were too busy doing just that to Glimmer that you start seeing things." I reach the top of the boulder, pulling myself in a sitting position as I prepare for the jump. Cato surprises me by grabbing both sides of my waist and helping me down.

"Maybe I was doing just that to make you jealous," he says. "With that look on your face right now, it seems to be working."

It takes all of my resolve not to punch him right then and there. I turn my back on him, my braid flying in an arc behind me. He just stands there, smirking and feeling very proud of himself. I keep walking, farther down the stream and ignoring Cato as he calls out my name. There's no humor in his voice now, I can picture the way his stupid smirk vanished from his face when he realized I'm seriously pissed.

Honestly, I don't know why I'm pissed. What am I so angry about? Cato accusing me of flirting with Marvel? Glimmer throwing herself at Cato? Or Cato telling me things I don't want to hear?

Somehow it all goes back to Cato. Damn him and that omnipresent smirk of his. I repeat what he said to me in my head, over and over again till the words lost their meanings. Maybe I was doing just that to make you jealous. With that look on your face right now, it seems to be working.

Well, I'm not jealous. Why should I be?

The Games is one thing, but this.. thing I have with Cato is another. While I'm doing this for the sole purpose of surviving, it's starting to mess with my mind. I don't know what this is that we have. Sure, we both know we have to play this game, but we never officially confirmed it as one. We just got on with it without a word. A game with no rules. Maybe this is what he wants to happen all along.

My foot catches on a rock, making me fall on my hands and knees. There's something peculiar about this muddy strip of bank. The earth doesn't feel so coarse underneath my fingertips, the foliage of the nearby bushes a bit too ruffled. Wait, that's no ordinary rock I tripped into.

I wipe the mud from the said rock, rewarded by the supple leather of a boot. I hear a gasp from my left. Bright blue eyes appear from the side of a boulder, and I have to stifle my own yelp when it all falls into place.

The stream. The camouflage. The blue eyes.

"Peeta?" I breathe out, my surprise and amazement taking over me.

Peeta grins, a hint of his white teeth contrasting with the mud that covers the rest of his body. He whispers back, "Hello to you too, sweetheart; though I can't exactly say I'm happy to see you right n—"

"Katniss?" Cato yells, his footsteps getting louder and louder. I try my best to calm down, steeling myself for the cameras. If I want to get out of this alive, I'm going to have to be a better actress.

Peeta clamps his mouth shut, closing his eyes and disappearing in the midst of the earth once again. I get a few good feet away from him before Cato stops in front of me.

"What?" I say, crossing my arms.

Cato searches for something to say. I almost feel bad for him; he's absolutely hopeless when it comes to acts of contrition.

"I was just telling the truth," he says. Does that count as an apology? A plain old I'm Sorry would've done the trick.

Thunder rolls from above. Rain starts to fall, and although it's just a drizzle, it's certainly enough to blow Peeta's cover.

The Gamemakers are obviously forcing a confrontation among the three of us. Seems like they're aching to see where my true loyalties lie: my team, or my district? If I go to Peeta's side, I'd be throwing away every sappy crap Cato and I built. If there's anything we managed to establish, really. But if I fight alongside Cato, what will District Twelve think of me? What will Gale and Prim feel? It's bad enough that I teamed up with the Careers and killed my fair share of innocent children, adding Peeta to that list will make me an outcast in my own district. Who kills their district partner for the sake of staying alive a little longer? I shake the foul thoughts away from my mind, even physically shaking my head to get a hold of myself. No. I will not give them the satisfaction of witnessing a fight among us. Not today.

So I stomp away, going farther downstream and praying to whoever it is up there that Cato will follow me. I know I can't protect Peeta forever, but I don't what to see him die. Especially not at the hands of the Career I'm currently travelling with. The rain starts to fall harder and I quicken my pace, crossing the stream at its bend where the boulders are large and flat enough to walk on.

As my feet touch the bank, Cato catches up to me, his long strides corresponding to two of mine. In no time at all, he's standing two paces ahead of me and blocking my way. I roll my eyes, balling my fists to hide the fact that they're shaking like crazy. I don't know if it's from my unreasonable anger at Cato or if it's because of how close I just was in having to kill another person again. Maybe a combination of both.

"What, are we going to play chase till we get back to camp?" Cato says, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

"Honestly, Cato, I don't know what kind of game we're playing," I say, looking straight in his eyes. I know he caught on the pun of my statement, because his expression darkens ever so slightly before returning to his cool, arrogant mask.

Before he can say anything, the rain becomes a full-blown downpour, each big, fat drop hitting my skin like teensy little needles. Cato curses aloud, but it was lost in the heavy drumming of the cloudburst around us. We move ahead, following the bend where another stack of boulders form a barrier between the forest and the water, the rocks forming cave-like structures.

If climbing over midget mountains while baking in the sun is hard, hiking them while it's raining buckets is an entirely different matter. I slip a few times, and if Cato isn't beside me I would've smashed my head against the stupid rocks. After what seemed like ten or fifteen years, we finally make it to a decent cave. Wedged between two high boulders, the mouth of the cavern is thankfully dry. Once inside, I let go of all my belongings, resting my back against the smooth cave wall and sliding down till I'm in a sitting position. Cato stands across me, leaning on the opposite wall.

"The Gamemakers just love us so much, don't they?" He runs a hand through his hair, droplets of water clinging to his fingers. "They saw we were thirsty, so they gave us so much water we almost drowned."

I throw my drenched jacket on the cave floor. "If I ever encounter another big ass boulder again, I'm going to blow it up till it's no more than a mere heap of rubble and ashes."

"You're fascinating when you're irritated." He chuckles. "Your word selection becomes colorful."

I would've bit back a response, but my teeth are starting to chatter. I think my retort wouldn't have the desired effect if I sound like I've been dipped in ice. The temperature seems to have halved in the past ten minutes, give it another five and I bet we'll be freezing off our asses.

Building a fire is out of the question since we don't have wood or anything else to set on fire. I try to think of something, anything to ease the cold that's creeping up on me. I stretch out my legs, my right foot bumping against my pack. I stare at the ugly orange backpack. Why the hell did I choose an orange backpack? Anybody can spot it a mile away.

A beacon of salvation comes to my mind.

"The sleeping bags," I whisper.

"What?"

"The sleeping bags. They reflect body heat, right? They'll keep us warm enough." I yank the sleeping bag out of my pack, laying it on the cave floor. "Where's yours?"

"I didn't bring one," Cato says.

"You didn't bring a sleeping bag?" Disbelief and frustration washes over me. "Of all the things you could have forgotten to pack, it just had to be a sleeping bag."

"I didn't know I'm going to be stuck in a cold, wet cave."

"Neither did I, but I still had the sense to pack a damn sleeping bag," I snap.

He crosses his arms, trying to hide the shivers going through him. If there's one thing I'm positive will kill Cato in this bullshit arena, it's his pride. He doesn't know how to apologize or to ask for help. He's violent and ill-tempered and arrogant and he irritates me to no end.

Okay, I may be violent and ill-tempered too, but I'm not heartless.

"Let's just share," I tell him.

See? I'm not heartless. The Gamemakers are pushing me to my limits, and though their chosen method is a bit unoriginal, it's effective. Very effective. I let out a defeated sigh. Just look on the bright side, Katniss. You're giving everybody one hell of a show.

I look back up at Cato, who tosses his jacket next to mine and starts to take off his shirt, too. I'm not going to go into the details, let's just say I momentarily stop freezing at the sight before me.

Okay, I've seen shirtless men before, but there's something insanely uncomfortable about Cato standing bare-chested in front of me. Unlike the rest of my family who don't even flinch at stark naked patients lying on our kitchen table, I've always been uncomfortable with seeing more of people's skin than necessary. Gale practically saunters around the woods half naked during summer just to annoy me.

"Don't look at me like that, Girl on Fire. You're making me conscious." Cato's smirk turns into a fey, provocative smile.

"Don't flatter yourself, von Bleicken," I say, borrowing Haymitch's words. I would normally avoid doing that at all costs, but the need to deflate Cato's ego is consuming.

I get my extra shirt and pants from my bag and walk to the other end of the cave, the darkness concealing me as I get out of my sodden clothes. I just finished fastening my mockingjay pin on my shirt when Cato speaks again.

"Go on, then. Lie to yourself." Really, I can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

"Arrogant ass," I grumble under my breath. I step back into the light, flinging my wet clothes to the pile near Cato's feet and making my way to our sleeping bag to unzip it.

Well, my sleeping bag that I'm kind enough to share with Cato.

Anyway, it takes a few yanks and a round of curses before I finally unzip the sleeping bag. Immediate warmth envelops me as I slide in, soothing my icy skin. I scoot over to one side, a blush staining my cheeks. I've never been in this close proximity to a boy, especially a half-naked boy. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, only opening them when I hear Cato zipping up the bag.

"That's better," he sighs. The shivers racking his body gradually slow down till they stop altogether. Soon enough, the sound of chattering teeth is replaced by an awkward hush. It's deafening, pressing down on me like a tangible weight.

"So.. what now?" I say, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Cato turns to look at me, the provocative smile back on his features. "I don't know. What do you have in mind?" He must be feeling a tad better if he can mock me like this.

"I'm serious, Cato." I slap his arm.

"Well.. I think we should wait the storm out," he says, earning a well-deserved eye-roll from me for stating the damn obvious. "And while we're at it, I think we should try getting to know each other."

Oh, right. We're supposed to be attracted to one another. Ugh. With a storm like this, I bet there's not even a single drop of blood shed today except that of the District Eight girl. Cato and I are probably the only entertainment going on right now.

"Okay," I say, turning my body to face him. "What do you want to know?"

He brings up his right hand and I freeze. His fingers stroke the mockingjay on my pin. "This is your token, right?"

I let go of the air I'm not even aware of holding. I've been doing a lot of breath-holding ever since I met Cato. If this goes on, I might start having asthma attacks or something. "My friend Madge gave it to me before I was taken to the Capitol. She's the mayor's daughter. Kind and timid and quiet. She's actually the only gal pal I have."

"You're that bad?" Cato says, a surprised expression plastered on his face.

"I'm sorry?" I find the genuineness of his astonishment somewhat irritating.

"What I mean is, that's it? You're okay with just one friend? How did you survive?"

"I have friends!" I say. "And contrary to what you believe, it isn't actually that bad. Better to have a few friends who are loyal rather than a lot who will just stab you in the back."

"Oh yeah? Name your other friends, then." He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow.

"Gale," I say almost immediately. "And Delly. And Peeta."

"You said in your interview that you weren't really close to Peeta until the Reaping. And this Delly.. you didn't even mention her." His mocking expression fades, replaced by insistent curiosity.

Annoying as he is, Cato never fails to surprise me. That tidbit about Peeta and my other so-called friends was mentioned in passing during my interview, I wouldn't even remember it if he didn't bring it up. The amount of attention he's been paying is kind of unsettling, yet flattering at the same time.

"Gale.. is he the one who pulled your sister off of you at the Reaping?" he says.

"Yeah, that's him. He's my best friend. We've been helping our mothers to support our families for years now. He always got my back, like I always got his."

"You have a very serious.. friendship." He furrows his brows, looking at the cave wall over my shoulder.

"It's not like that. We're cousins." Gale's too handsome, too manly to be just a friend. People from the Seam have the same physical characteristics. I hope our dark hair, olive skin and gray eyes will be enough to convince everybody of the lie I just stated.

"Oh," Cato says. Is that relief that just crossed his features? No. It can't be. He's just a good actor.

"What about you? What's your token?" I ask. Aside from Glimmer's, I've never seen or known the other tributes' district tokens.

Cato leans down to dig around in his pocket. Seconds later, he pulls out a watch. Black leather straps held together by a round, silver timepiece. He holds it out to me. "That's from my cousin, Jeremy. It's the only thing he has from his late father, but he still gave it to me. Said he believes in me, that he knows I'll win so he doesn't worry about getting his watch back."

We talk all throughout the morning. He told me about his family and his friends and his home, and I did the same. I thought I'd feel more homesick, but talking about home actually helped. Especially when the one you're talking to is going through the same thing. For a moment, I almost forgot I'm in the Games.

The sweat drying on my skin slowly pulls me out of my slumber.

I lie on my back—or at least I try to—since Cato hogged every inch of the sleeping bag. His chest is pressed against my back, the heat coming off his bare skin searing me.

"Cato," I whisper, trying to wake him up. His breathing is slow and even, tickling the he hairs on the back of my neck.

Dear Gawd.

"Cato, hey," I say, louder this time, shaking his forearm—the one draped around my waist—harder.

After a few minutes of shaking him earthquake-level, I realize there's no point in trying to wake him while he's sleeping like a newborn baby. I try to wriggle out of his grasp, my elbow lightly hitting his jaw. He stirs and pulls me closer to him. There's not an inch between our bodies now, and pressing against my lower back is his…

You know.

Mortified, I trash under the covers. I almost rip the sleeping bag open trying to get out, my foot landing a good one on Cato's shin.

"What the..?" He bolts up, sword in hand, wide eyes scanning the cave for any possible dangers. "What happened?"

Suddenly I feel scared of Cato, my fear replacing my embarrassment. The way he turns from a sleeping baby to a battle-ready warrior in three seconds flat has me trembling inside.

"You're difficult to wake up," I mumble.

"So you had to physically assault me." He runs a hand through his hair, his lips forming into a pout.

"You were making me… uncomfortable." I drop my gaze to the floor, heat creeping up on my cheeks. I bet I'm glowing like a lamp.

"Oh," Cato says as it hits him. "Sorry."

We stand there in silence, looking at anything but each other. The mutual feeling of awkwardness hangs in the air, choking me.

"Yeah.. It's okay.. uhm.. I'll go scout the place out." I pick up my bow and arrows, tripping over the basket from last night's meal in my hurry. I stand up with every ounce of dignity I can still manage and step out of the cave.

The early morning mist wakes my sense up, rejuvenating me. Out here, there's no evidence that the storm even happened. The sky is clear and bright, the stream back on its current flow. Good. I could use a cool splash.

Finally alone with my thoughts, the forest comes alive with sound. Here and there I'd hear the scurry of little feet bustling through the bushes. Once, I even saw a rabbit make a beeline for the trees. I won't have any problems hunting today.

And I probably need to hunt, too, since Cato and I wiped out every bit of the meal that was sent yesterday. It was good for six people: a whole tray of lasagna, a couple of club sandwiches, a thermos of warm peppermint tea, and best of all, a big bowl of mouthwatering lamb stew, complete with dried plums and wild rice. The parachute came down around lunch, and by dinner, everything was picked clean.

The food might have disappeared fast, but Haymitch's message stayed intact in my mind. Good job, Sweetheart. Keep it up. I can almost hear his voice, deep and grumpy, a thumbs-up sign in one hand and a bottle of liquor in the other. The timing of the gift is just too exact to be a coincidence.

Another series of scurrying makes me halt my movements. Slowly, I pick up my bow and stride towards the forest.

After a few attempts, I'm successful in taking out two rabbits. I'm on my way back when I hear a rustle. I instinctively send an arrow flying, and for the first time in my life I'm thankful I misjudged the location of a target.

"What the hell?!" I say as I lower my bow. The arrow I fired sits stuck on an oak tree, still quivering from the impact of the hit.

"You were gone for almost an hour," Cato says, brushing non-existent dirt from his shirt.

"Well next time don't sneak up on me like that. Geez."

I move closer to him and slip my backpack off his shoulder. "I was worried," he says, his eyes boring into mine. There's that intensity in them again, immobilizing me.

"We should probably start skinning the rabbits." I slip my pack over my shoulder, stepping away from Cato. Haymitch probably wants to wring my neck now for letting such a good love-crap opportunity pass, but I don't care. Cato's good, way too good at making people believe this is real. The only bad part? I'm close to believing him, too.

We make a decent breakfast out of the rabbits. It's not as good as yesterday's meal, but it gave us enough staying power. We only stopped trekking twice: to drink water and to take down a groosling that we happened to come across. Cato's still a bit queasy about the idea of having it for lunch, but then, meat is meat.

We're almost at the clearing now, at a copse facing the right side of the Cornucopia. From this spot, I can make out Clove's petite form, hurling knives at a makeshift dummy. Marvel and Tamara are nowhere in sight.

"Looks like we're not the only ones who enjoyed the little holiday," Cato murmurs beside me. I follow his line of vision only to find Glimmer, lying on the shores of the lake in her undergarments, basking in the sun with her head tipped back.

"Who told you I enjoyed being stuck in that cave with you?" I snap. Through the rest of our journey, I kept him at arm's length. It's probably counterproductive for our so-called romance, but if I didn't get any breathing space I might start exploding. Like now.

"Don't give me that jealous look." Instead of going into fight mode, Cato just smirks at me. It just made me more irritated.

"I'm not jealous!"

"Yes. You. Are."

"Seriously, I'm not. Especially not of Blondie."

"What is it with Glimmer's hair that you're so pissed at?"

What? "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on. Half of the people you know have hair like hers. Why do you specifically hate her hair so much?"

"I don't hate her hair. It's just too.. blonde. And silky and lush.." I trail off.

"So you're jealous of her hair." Cato says, biting his bottom lip in an effort to hide his smirk.

"I'm not!"

"Yes, you are." He takes a step closer to me. "Man, you have a lot of hair issues. But don't worry, I prefer brunettes. Although blondes will always hold a special place in my heart." His eyes take on a dangerous glint; challenging me, provoking me. Everything about his demeanor—those eyes, that smirk, the way he's leaning into me—screams the words Your turn at me.

I've never been good with words; that's Peeta's forte. I'm more of a woman of action. Though Cato's not very witty either, he certainly has a way with taunting people with words. I know I can't beat him in a verbal battle, so I do the only thing I can to shut him up.

I kiss him.

A/N: Sooo.. shall we continue? Let me know!