This is my first real attempt at writing fanfiction, go easy on me. I didn't really get into this pairing until recently, but I find them sickeningly interesting. Yet, I hadn't found a story that really suited my mental picture of them. So, here's my shot at it.

The train ride from District 2 to the capitol was shorter than most, less than a couple hours delay was set between names being drawn and stepping off onto the platform to the waiting mass of crowd. There was enough time for a quick midday meal, and apart from that there wasn't much time for anything else; especially not socializing. The tributes were still given their own rooms and both seemed to be taking to them better than their partner tribute.

Career district tributes were not only trained and weaponry from a young age, they were taught how to act in front of a capitol crowd. They knew the proper way to wave, and how to smile without looking overtly threatening. They were killers with manners. Stepping off the train, and being the first tributes to arrive, the crowd was particularly excited to see them. Their names were chanted, but Clove couldn't help noticing one was just a bit more overwhelming than the other.

She should have seen it coming, Cato would be the favorite. Why shouldn't he be? He was the literal golden boy from District 2 golden hair, golden skin, fucking golden smile; he had the entire district in the palm of his hand. They had been waiting for this moment, the year Cato Obsidian finally gets to volunteer and bring glory back to District 2. Clove was simply a stepping stone for him to gain his victory. She had been reaped, she didn't get to volunteer. There were no girl tributes older than her who were worthy to volunteer for her, it had been planned already from weeks of training. Had another girl been reaped than one of the eighteen year old girls could have volunteered, but none of them were above her. The odds had not been in Clove's favor.

Considering the short train ride District 2 tributes are ushered to their living quarters at the Tribute Center to wait before heading to the remake center. They're shown to their suite on the second floor and left to their own devices under the watch of their mentors Brutus and Lyme, and their escort Pumice Flint. Cato doesn't speak a word, he barely even made an effort in the crowded streets of the capitol, he makes his way through the suite to his room and shuts himself inside; they're not allowed to lock their doors, suicide's apparently high right before the games.

Clove retreats to her own room, not for rest but to pace in peace. She had been waiting for this day since she could hold a weapon. Torn between excitement and the inevitable gut dropping dread of the fate she didn't want to accept. She had always pictured herself victor, there was no other title for her. Yet, these were not her games; her mother had made that very clear. "Don't be a hero, Clove. Know your place; know you will be remembered in helping to bring glory back to District 2." She was a stepping stone, she was support for Cato; nothing more. Not a victor. Clove wasn't used to being second best, it wasn't how she raised herself.

It must have been hours, but it couldn't have been, before Clove was being called out of her room. Cato was already sitting on the couch, lounged back with his arm on the back of it and his legs stretched out. Lyme and Brutus were standing in front of the couch, Pumice was making his way from the other side of the room to the couch. By the time she got there, there was no other option left than to sit next to Cato, very aware of his arm still being on the back of the couch.

"It's time to start thinking of a plan. We already know arena strategy, you've known your own way to win since you were twelve." Lyme started looking between the two, "Now we need to figure out the game plan before we actually get you into the games."

"I scare them off." Cato said simply with a smirk, Clove rolled her eyes in response, turning her head just slightly away from him. "What? Aren't I scary?" He asked leaning forward, clamping his teeth together near her ear. She turned, pushing him away with a glare.

"That's enough." Lyme chimed in.

"The Capitol expects a certain level of respect from District 2. Cold as rock, hard as iron. I want you both to remember that. If they see you as the prime victors we'll be able to get you more sponsors. You play to them, not the other tributes. You don't care about the other tributes, you're not here to please them and you let the Capitol know that. You are here for the Capitol, you're their gladiators; not tributes. Tributes are below you." Brutus said in his low tone of speech, Clove wondering of Lyme had him memorize it before they spoke to the two.

"Understood." Cato said simply with a smirk Clove could feel on the back of her neck. She had leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees so she didn't have to think about how close his arm on the back of the couch was.

"Understood." Clove added with a small nod, her hands clenching together. A knife belonged there, she could almost feel it from memory. The beautiful ivory handled one she had back home that her grandfather had made for her.

"You will be the picture perfect tributes. The type they dream about. The type that will be talked about for months after and others will aspire to be." Lyme stated looking between the two of them. "You'll report back here in an hour, we'll be taking you to the remake center. Dismissed."

Cato rises, patting Clove on the shoulder and then making his way back towards his room. Clove's brow creased as she looked up following him until his figure disappeared around the corner. She got up, light footsteps leading her in his trail. He walked into his room, her body slipping in right behind him undetected. "Cato." She snapped.

He jumped, turning around and almost knocking the decorative bowl on his dresser off. "How the hell did you get in here?" He shouted looking back at her.

"The door." She said simply pointing to it.

"Well, what the hell do you want?" He asked, his voice not lowering, and she not backing down. She had seen him in the training center before, the younger trainees cowering from him; very few actually wanted to train with him out of fear they'd frustrate him to the point of explosion. A few years back he broke a kids arm for not putting the weights back on the rack in the right order.

"Don't come near me like that again." Clove shot back, her dark midnight blue eyes struck onto his chestnut brown ones. This raises a chuckle out of the male tribute as he relaxes a bit, eyeing her over as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Didn't like it?" Cato asked raising an eyebrow as he takes a step towards her, "I thought I saw some red behind the ears, sure it didn't get your blood going?" He asked as she took a step back.

"I'm not here for stupid games, and don't believe I won't think twice before killing you." Clove glared, this only bringing a smirk to Cato's lips. He towered over her, the top of her head only coming to his shoulders as she craned her neck back to look up at him, standing her ground this time.

"Stupid games? I thought that was the whole point?" Cato asked keeping his eyes locked down on hers. She drew a deep breath, not one to back down from a challenge, and this was most definitely a challenge.

"We're tributes." Clove stated simply.

"Gladiators." Cato corrected with a cocky smirk down to her.

"Nothing more." Clove replied, causing a brow to rise from Cato.

"I made no inclinations of the sort, I think you're reading too far into this, doll." Cato told her, his face leaning just a bit closer to hers. She could feel his arms moving, the air was shifting around her, becoming tighter. "Or maybe you're just not experienced enough to know better."

"Don't call me that." Clove snapped, ignoring the later part to focus on the more annoying aspect. She hated her size, loathed it. It was good for sneaking around, but in combat it was shit.

"But that's what you are." Cato noted, "Just a tiny little doll for me to play with before I get bored." Cato smirked, a smirk that was quickly washed off by Clove's hand slapping across his face. His head jerked and snapped back, brown eyes piercing her. He reached out, grabbing her forearms and slamming her against the wall behind her.

"Think that was cute?" He asked, nostrils flaring as he glared down at her. She could still see the red raised skin on his cheek from where her hand had made contact. He pushed her harder against the wall, "The next time you try to touch me I'll snap your neck in two." Cato growled down at her. Clove attempted to wiggle her way out of his grip, it was useless. He was twice her size, not to mention the Cato fury was showing bright red in his eyes. If she had a knife on her he'd be gone.

"Let go of me." Clove demanded through gritted teeth, eyes looking up to meet his. He smirked down to her, knowing full well he had her pinned there tight. He didn't let go of her, he simply moved closer. He pressed his body against her, his knee pushing her leg to the side.

"Or what?" He asked, she could feel his breath on her neck. She wouldn't let it show her heart was pounding. She wouldn't let him know her face was darkening red the closer he got. Those picked for training were barely allowed human contact at all, her impressions of it were slim but she knew at that moment there was something going on in her that hadn't before.

"Let go of me, Cato." She hissed again, pushing her arms against his futilely. His hands moved this time; they loosened their grip on her arms, fingers trailing down until they came to rest off of her arms and around her hips. She allowed herself one deep breath; this wasn't a pin she had trained to get out of.

"Or you'll do what?" He asked, she could feel his lips teasingly close to her ear now. She had never experienced this before, this overwhelming feeling in her gut. She wasn't trained for this, and she didn't like this sense of vulnerability. She couldn't think of a reply, her heart was pounding too loud for her to think properly. All she could focus on was the pressure his fingers were applying to her hips, how one had found its way between the blouse she was wearing and the skirt below it. How his finger was calloused from training, rough against the softer skin on the small of her back.

She took another deep breath looking up through the raven haired bangs that had fallen in front of her eyes to look up at him. He seemed hungry, that was the only way she could describe the look he was giving her. What it was for, she didn't know. Being aware of how long she had been standing with her jaw slacked out of confusion her tongue involuntarily ran across her bottom lip, something flashed in his eyes with the movement which in turn only made her heart pound faster.

Clove did not run, she never backed down, she never showed her vulnerable side to an opponent. While this wasn't a game she was versed in, while she wasn't inclined to the rules she didn't need them, she could make her own. She reached down, grabbing his hands and pulling them from her, the grip he had on her caused her skirt to turn as his hands were released. She shoved his chest to push him away and while it did little the sudden movement caught him off guard enough she could slip out from the wall. Light as air she took the few steps to escape out of his room.

Heart pounding she raced around the corner down the hall to the common area where Lyme and Brutus were still discussing on the couch what the interview strategy would be. She didn't even catch their attention as she ran for her own room, the door slamming making the only announcement that she had been out of it in the first place. She stopped only for a moment before walking over to the window and pulling it open letting the cool air from the capitol hit her in the face.

Sweat ran down from her brow, but it felt different. It wasn't earned sweat from a day in the training room, from running longer than the other girl trainees; it was forced from fear. Clove wasn't used to it, the unexpected adrenaline rush from being placed between a rock and a hard place had hit her suddenly. She had never been looked at like that. She had never felt that sense of overwhelming animalistic fear course through her veins. For a moment she was furious, how dare he pull that shit and cause her to feel that. But the moment past and was soon replaced with another emotional entirely different; the old desire she had imbedded in her. He had just offered up a challenge, and Clove did not back down from a challenge.

Please, review if you can. Thanks for reading!