A/N: I wrote this ages ago but lost it when my computer crashed. I recently found my memory pen and found this on it so I thought I'd share it with you guys!

Warnings: Slutty!Peeta, Police Officer!Cato, innuendos, spanking and kinky lemon! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.

If you wanted a criminal caught and arrested, get Cato to do it.

Not normally one to brag about it, Cato was the best officier on the police force. He could get any prisoner to squeal, any criminal caught in the act, any outlaw to admit they had done wrong. Seriously, the guy was good. Being in the force for ten years now, Cato had never lost a case. And that was a record no one but him held.

That is, until loverboy came along.

. . . .

"Loverboy," Clove explained, "Is this code name for the blond fraud who has been running around Panem for about a year now, robbing banks and stealing from museums. No one has been able to catch him as of yet and he's apparently been sighted around 2."

"What is there such a thief could be searching for here, do you think?" Cato asked, typing out a report into his computer.

Clove shrugged. "Could be after Brutus' Jewel," she said. "But I don't know how he plans to get it, since the museum's security is air tight. A pin couldn't drop without the guards knowing about it."

Cato nodded, mulling it over. "But if he's a criminal mastermind, I'm sure he has something up his sleeve," he said. "Maybe you should alert the museum and get extra security put in around Brutus' Jewel. Just to be on the safe side." He finished the last word in the report and sat back in his seat, brushing a hand through his hair. "Where has he been sighted?"

"That's the weird thing," Clove replied. "He doesn't even bother to hide his identity. Every single District he has robbed, there has been thousands of images and footage of him, bold as brass, doing the deed. And you know what the odd thing is?"

"What?"

"Every time he has the thing he's after in his hands, he turns to the camera, winks and blows a kiss," Clove answered. "He's insufferable. Around here he's been sighted around Victor's Avenue. Strangely enough, where the museum holding Brutus' Jewel is located. I don't like this, it's very fishy. I think that's why they want you on the case, Cato, since you haven't lost a case yet."

Cato frowned. "Clove, if he's been sighted, why hasn't he just been arrested?"

Clove shrugged. "He's one step ahead of everyone. He can vanish like that." She clicked her fingers.

Cato sighed. Yeah, he knew criminals who where like that. In the end, they always tripped up somewhere. "Do you think the other Districts could send us the footage of him?" he asked. "So we have an idea of who we're up against here?"

Clove nodded. "I'll see what I can do." She brushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear and sighed. "Imagine the praise we'll get if he get this guy arrested. Maybe even the Chief will start to notice us. Well, notice me. He already knows you as the goddamn saint of the police force."

The name made Cato cringe. He didn't like that everyone made a big deal out of the fact that he hadn't failed a case yet. Sure, it was good and all that, and of course he was a little proud of himself, but everyone else made a bigger deal out of it than he did. There was a little part of him though that wanted to keep the title going because after spending ten years on the force and never failing a case, there's always going to be a piece of him that won't want to let go of the record. And he certainly wasn't going to let some arrogant loverboy ruin it. Not that the thief was going to anyway. Surely someone who didn't even bother to hide their identity was an amateur in one way or another.

"Here," Clove said an hour later, her arms full of tapes. "The Chief gave me these to give to you. Apparently the other Districts sent them over for you to examine. It's the footage of loverboy."

"Has there been identification scans ran on him yet?" Cato asked as he took the tapes off her.

Clove shook her head. "No, not yet. Do you want me to get on that?" she asked.

"Yeah," Cato answered. "Please."

"No problem boss," Clove replied, doing a mock salute. As he watched her go, Cato mulled over what she just called him. Clove and himself were around the same age and yet because he held more authority over her, he felt like the older one. Especially when she went around calling him things such as 'boss'.

Shaking his head, Cato took up one of the tapes. It looked like it was spray painted gold, an indication that it was from District 1. Why did they persist in trying to make everything sparkle? Cato rolled his eyes and stuck the tape into the VCR built into his computer.

The footage was slow at first, starting when the night shift started in the D1 museum (he didn't know which one it was so he just nicknamed it that) guarding a massive red ruby that was encased in glass. The area around it was protected with laser and floor sensors, the door watched over by two guards. Loverboy must be a genius to have gotten past that.

It took about five minutes of forwarding until a couple hours past and something actually happened. For some reason, the guards had decided to move away from the door and enter the room where the ruby sat. As their backs were turned from the door, a blond boy appeared behind them and gripped the back of their necks in an action Cato recognized as the Vulcan Death Grip. Some of his captors had tried doing this before but it had never been strong enough for it to work. But the guards slowly sank to the ground, the blond boy not letting go until they were completely on the floor.

The boy grinned and dusted his hands off, climbing over both guards and stopping just before the lasers started. They are designed to be invisible to the naked eye but he must have done his research as before going any further he went to the sensor by the wall and pulled a small mirror out of his pocket. When put in front of the sensor, the reflective mirror would divert the laser and send it shooting up at the ceiling.

Okay, that was common knowledge. There was no way he could get by the floor sensors.

The boy crouched on the floor and squinted, staring right at the glass case the ruby was incased in. He stayed like that for about five minutes before backing up a bit and taking a run at it. At last minute, he jumped and went a good three quarters of the way before landing again. He didn't even stumble as he landed, staying poised on one foot while using the other to hop across the rest of the way.

Alright, so he was a damn ballerina, that could have happened anyone.

Cato thought the boy was going to have some great plan for what to do with the glass case. Maybe use an optical illusion to make it look like his hand went right through the case or use a small knife to get the panels loosened out one by one.

But no.

He smashed it.

The alarm immediately went after that and Loverboy laughed, grabbing the ruby and looking right at the camera like Clove said he would. His eyes were a piercing blue, sparkling in the darkness of the room. He dropped a wink and blew a kiss before running to the window, pushing it open and climbing out.

Cato was baffled. Did he really just watch that? He had expected the thief to have been using technological aids and devices but instead all he did was use his hands and a mirror. This wasn't going to be as easy as first thought.

Another thing Cato discovered about Loverboy while he watched the rest of the tapes: He was a master of seduction. In District 5, the boy spent a week there, having night times flings with the city bank's security guard before convincing the man to let him into the safe. The amount of times Cato had seen the boy kiss and blow and fuck his way into banks and museums was astronomical.

"His name is Peeta Mellark," Clove said, slapping a file down onto Cato's desk. "He ran away from home six years ago and has only started being sighted again when he started thieving. He's originally from District 12 and-" She paused. "Cato, are you watching porn?"

"Nope," Cato sighed, exhausted and slightly worked up from having to watch the boy who was, admittedly, pretty hot, get fucked over tables. "This is what he does. He seduces people into letting him into where he wants and then knocks them out whenever they're in."

Clove turned her nose up. "Ew," she muttered. "That's disgusting. Does he have no dignity?"

"I suppose you don't really need dignity," Cato replied. "All he wants is the money. Did you get anything else on him?"

"Yeah," Clove nodded. "He's a genius. When he was ten years old, he broke into his school and stole money from his Prinicpal's safe. Sure, normal ten year olds could do that but they normally bring friends to help. And leave some sign of them having been there. Mellark left nothing. In fact, the only reason they found out it was him in the end was because he gave some of the money to his ex-friend Delly and she blabbed about it."

"So we're definitely dealing with a mastermind here then," Cato said.

"Seems so," Clove answered.

"Well, when he decides to strike, we'll be ready for him."

"Yeah, we will."

~xXx~

They weren't.

When the force finally got to the museum when Loverboy had been reported to have entered the building, he had already had fifteen minutes to do what he needed to do. Cato hated how sloppy the force could be, especially when it was early in the morning. Still, they were there now and there was no way Loverboy was getting out without being caught.

Clove was grumpy, a cup of coffee clutched in her hand as she yelled through a bullhorn for whoever was in there to come out with their hands up. Nothing was happening though and the more nothing happened, the more annoyed she got. Cato wanted to tell her calm down but he knew better of it. As if Loverboy was going to come out just because he was told to anyway. No, something told Cato he had something up his sleeve.

As he was leaning on the hood of his cop car, Cato saw something out of the corner of his eye. At the sight of the building, a small figure climbed out of window, a black silohuette against the dark night sky. The figure jumped out of the window and fell two storeys into a small alleyway that lay beside the museum. It reminded him of how Loverboy had escaped the museum in District 1. He'd climbed out the window and obviously jumped.

Cato gesutred for two cops to follow him while Clove continued screaming into the bullhorn like an unprofessional. He went across the road with the two in tow, slipping into the wide alleyway to see if his hunch was correct. The alley was empty, the ground wet from the rain earlier and the place was cluttered with old boxes and pieces of rubbish.

Not trusting it, Cato pulled out his gun and went deeper into the alley. The two behind him followed, doing the same with their weapons. Cato wasn't scared of this thief and he'll be damned if he was going to get defeated by him just because of a simple disappearing act in an alleyway.

Two bodies hit the ground and Cato whirled around, his eyebrows lifting in surprise to find both the cops he'd brought with him lying on the ground. What happened them? Loverboy still wasn't in sight so it could have been him . . .

"Now, really, are the guns nessecary?"

The voice was behind him. Cato turned back around. Loverboy was leaning against the side of the museum building casually, as if just waiting on a friend to show up. A canvas bag was resting on his hip, Brutus' diamond just peeking out of the top of it. Had he been there the entire time? He couldn't have been. Cato would have been him standing there.

"You're all gathered here as if I'm holding captives in the building," the thief continued conversationally. He moved away from the wall and approached Cato slowly, not really seeming to bothered about the gun anyway. "Oh, I know you! You're Detective Cato Hadley! The man everyone thinks is going to capture me!"

"Who says I'm not going to?" Cato replied.

"Oh, no-one's saying that," Loverboy said, grinning like a maniac. He had a thick 12 accent but for some reason, Cato couldn't help thinking about how it suited him. In fact . . . it sounded kind of sexy. "Although, I'd be pretty impressed if you did." He stepped into the light and Cato immediately recognized him from the footage. Blond hair, bright blue eyes, arrogance screaming in the way he carried himself. But close up Cato could notice smaller things, like how his eyelashes were golden, glittering in the light from the street lap, how his lips were plump and looked soft, how the clothes he was wearing were wrinkled and ruffled.

"Who did you seduce in there?" he asked, more of curiousity than an official question.

Loverboy-wait, didn't Clove say his name was Peeta?- smirked. "Ernie and Patrick, the door guards," he answered. "God, at least once in your life, get in the middle of two insanely competitive brothers and let them get jealous." He whistled. "You'll have the time of your life."

"Is all you think about sex?" Cato asked, disgusted.

Peeta lifted his eyebrows. "50/50. Well, more 80/20. Well, I say 80/20, more like 95/5. Mind of a sex addict, that's me." He winked at Cato and pursed his lips. "Awww, does the detective not get any?"

Cato rolled his eyes. He got just enough, he didn't need some criminal with a nickname of Loverboy insult him about his sex life just because he didn't screw someone new every week. Although, he wouldn't mind taking Loverboy and-wait, what? No, get it together Hadley.

"If you give back all the things you've stolen now, your sentence might be shortened," Cato said, deciding to get back to the point at hand.

Peeta laughed. "Now why would I do that?" he asked. "Just because some hunk with bright green eyes comes along and looks at me with lust in his eyes doesn't mean I'm going to give up everything I've worked for."

"Then you're going to serve life," Cato told him.

"That's if you catch me," Peeta said.

"I will catch you," Cato replied.

Peeta shivered theatrically. "Oooh, I've got chills!" he exclaimed. "I'm positively terrified! Although . . ." He stepped forward so that they were standing chest to chest and, even if he was a couple of inches below Cato, Peeta still held a meancing presence. "The idea of getting put into handcuffs and dragged away by you, big boy, doesn't actually seem that bad."

"Do you have an off switch?" Cato frowned.

Peeta smirked. "I don't know, want to look for it?"

"Okay, stop it."

"Or what? Are you going to arrest me, officer?"

"Damn right I am," Cato growled. He hated how this guy was so easily getting him. But there was something about those shining blue eyes and satisfied smirk that made him want to do nothing but push him against a wall in that very alley and make him scream his name. Maybe that was what he did to all the others a well . . .

So that's why he was surprised about what happened next.

Peeta stepped back and held his wrists together. "Take me away then, officer," he said, his voice still dripping in pure sex. "Take me and lock me up."

Seriously, he was going that easy?

Cato made sure he wasn't being tricked as he snapped the handcuffs onto Loverboy's wrists and took the canvas bag from him. A part of him wanted to ask why Peeta was going to so easily but he didn't want to question fate.

Then again, something told him that this wasn't over yet.

~xXx~

Cato didn't question Peeta until everyone else had left the station. He didn't want the others to hear the sort of things Loverboy would come out with. Even then, when the place was empty, he stood behind the one way glass and watched the thief as he rocked back and forth in his seat.

His eyes were closed, the overhead lightbulb making thin shadows cast across his high cheekbones. The harsh glow of the bulb highlighted how pale the boy actually was, his skin unblemished and milky, almost like porcelin. A part of Cato wondered if his skin looked like that everywhere. Every so often, he'd catch himself wondering whether the chief would mind if he stripped loverboy and fucked him on the table instead of actually questioning him . . .

"Are you going to stand out there and watch me all night officer?" Peeta called out. "Because if you are, I'd like to know so I could maybe take a nap?" His eyes weren't even open, how did he know Cato was there? And never mind that, it was one way glass, he shouldn't even know he was there even if his eyes were open.

Deciding not to look into it too much, Cato rolled his eyes and went into the interrogation room. Peeta cracked an eye open and grinned. "Fancy seeing you here officer," he said. "Long time, no see?"

"Don't start," Cato warned. "Now, do you want me to call you Loverboy or Peeta during questioning?"

"With those bright green eyes? You could call me Vera and I wouldn't care," Peeta answered.

"Just answer the question."

"Well, which do you prefer?" Peeta asked. "Want to call me Loverboy?" He kicked his feet up onto the table and licked his dry lips. Cato watched the movement carefully, wishing this boy wasn't a criminal so he could be the one wetting his lips with his tongue.

"I think I'll stick with Peeta," he finally said.

"Whatever you say," Peeta said with a wink.

"We need to go through how many people you've decieved across the country," Cato said. "Or . . . uh . . ."

Peeta quirked an eyebrow. "Fucked?" he prompted. "Snogged? Blew? Fingered? I need a bit more detail here."

"Well, all of that technically," Cato replied.

"Oh goodness, how long have you got?" Peeta asked. He crossed his ankles and looked thoughtful. "Well, there was Gale Hawthorne in High School, he used to give me exam answers in exchange for a blow-"

"I mean for the sake of robbery," Cato sighed. This was going to be a long night.

Peeta smirked, clearly amused. "In general? I've kissed seventy people, blew about half of those, had intercourse with twenty people, took part in four threesomes and was the object of one gang bang." He grinned cheerily. "And am shockingly still clean of diseases. All for the sake of robbery."

"A gang bang? Seriously?" Cato sighed.

"What?" Peeta asked. "It wasn't bad."

"You know those things mostly only happen illegally and counts as rape?"

"Really? I'd never have guessed. Tell my seven angry exes that."

Cato shook his head. "You're insufferable."

"You've only been in here five minutes," Peeta pointed out.

"Yeah, and I'm already sick of you," Cato responded.

"You're not sick of me, you're just confused because you want to fuck me and you don't know why," Peeta simply stated. "Don't worry, it happens to the best of us. Sometimes even I get depressed because I can't fuck me."

"You're full of it!" Cato exclaimed.

Peeta shrugged. "Nothing wrong with self love," he replied. He pulled his feet off the table and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the wood. "So, officer Hadley, what are you going to do with me?"

"You're going to jail for a very long time," Cato answered.

"Ah, is that it?" the thief pouted. "Is that all I get for being such a naughty boy?"

"Yeah, it is."

Loverboy leaned so far forward that their noses brushed together. "You know, I didn't just get the nickname Loverboy for nothing," he purred. "I could rock your world, if you'd let me."

"I don't let my world be rocked," Cato stated. "I do the rocking."

"I bet you do," Peeta replied. "Are you sure you don't want to indulge in your desires? I wouldn't tell anyone since I would like one more fuck before I go into prison forever. It's my only wish. Unless, of course, you can't handle it."

Cato scoffed. "I could handle you just fine."

"Oh really now?" Peeta didn't sound convinced.

"I could handle you so well that instead of being so snarky and sarcastic you'd tremble every time I was in your presence."

"Now that's hard to believe."

Angry and fed up, Cato grabbed his captive by the front of his shirt and smashed their lips together. Peeta responded immediately, their lips moving together messily. Still fuming, Cato bit the boy's bottom lip hard, smirking when he yelped in pain. Seeing to enjoy being hurt like that, Peeta leaned closer to him, roughly raking his fingers through the older man's hair.

Cato pulled his cuffs out of his back pocket and used them to trap Peeta's wrists around the leg of the table, so he stuck bent over it in a submissive position. This made the criminal groan in arousal and when Cato broke the kiss, his eyes were black with lust.

"What are you going to do to me, officer?" Loverboy purred.

"Isn't it obvious?" Cato growled. "Bad boys like you get spanked for misbehaving." He went around the table and took a moment to consider how irresponsible and unprofessional he was being. And then he realized, he didn't care. He had to hear this boy scream his name in ecstasy.

His captive had a cute ass. All plump and round and perfect for abusing. Cato pulled the boy's pants down, smirking at the way he was already squirming on the table. He pulled his hand back and Peeta twitched in want, waiting for it to come. A small yelp escaped the boy's lips as the first smack hit him but it wasn't enough for Cato and the next hit was twice as hard. The harder he smacked, the louder the noise Peeta made. Every cry and yelp and whimper that escaped his captive made his lust burn like an inferno and he was past thinking about the fact that this boy was a criminal and he was supposed to be the officer questioning him.

When he stopped, his hand was stinging and Peeta's ass was glowing bright pink. "Why did you stop?" the younger complained.

"Because I want to make sure you can't sit down for months in your cell without thinking of me," Cato said, unbuckling his pants. Loverboy groaned. He grabbed Peeta's backside and pushed in without prep, knowing full well from the footage he watched that he knew how to take it.

The boy was still tight, which didn't seem to make sense since he took part in so much sexual encounters. Cato didn't have a moment to dwell on it though as Peeta clenched his muscles around his length, making him moan in pleasure. The officer pulled back and thrusted in as hard as he could, both participants moaning at the exact same time.

Cato found himself fucking Loverboy harder than he had ever fucked anyone before. The younger boy was able to take it, having years of experience, and pushed back on every thrust he put into him. His tight heat was unbearable and Cato came into him faster than expected. Peeta soon followed, making a big deal out of screaming in ecstasy as he came onto the table.

"There you go," Cato panted, tucking himself back in and wiping his forehead. "Your last fuck before prison." He felt dizzy and leaned back against the wall behind him.

"Oh, I doubt it would be my last," Peeta said. There was a soft chink and the cuffs fell to the floor. Peeta pulled himself off the table and pulled his pants up, buckling his belt and grinning. Cato frowned, wondering how he did it. He tried to move toward him but he was too dizzy. "I mean, someone as pretty and petite as me is bound to be asked to pick up the soap, right?"

"What . . . ?" Cato asked.

Peeta smirked. He tapped his lips. "Paralysis balm, babe," he said. "Don't worry, you'll come out of it in a couple of hours." Cato sank to the floor, realizing that he couldn't move anymore. Peeta hopped off the table and left the room, coming back with his canvas bag and the jewel.

He broke the bars off the window in the room and turned back to Cato. "You really didn't think I was going to let you arrest me, did you?" he asked. He tuttted. "Shame on you Hadley. I'm not that easy. Ironically." The boy knelt down before the paralysed officer and smiled. "Till we meet again, officer." He pecked his lips and went to the window. "You never know, next time you might catch me."

Peeta crouched on the sill, taking one last look at Cato. He winked and blew him a kiss before jumping out the window.

Cato couldn't believe it.

He'd been defeated.

Defeated by Loverboy.

By Peeta Mellark.

He didn't even scream his name.

A/N: I've never written Peeta like this since I wrote this one-shot and I'm not sure why. It's fun to write sassy Peeta (:

Please R&R! :D