Puppet Strings

Chapter One

The cashier tsked. "I know," he said. "Should be more."

"How can you price something so precious so cheaply?" asked Peeta.

"I don't do the prices, sadly, I only enforce them."

Peeta resisted the urge to ask for the stone to be taken out of the cabinet so he could have a better look at it. He said so himself that he had no use for such trinkets and that if he bought it then it would probably just gather dust on his bedside table. "Thank you," he forced himself to say, smiling tightly at the cashier and turning to leave.

The cashier grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. Peeta blinked in surprise and raised his eyebrows. "Here's the thing," the cashier said, "I've never seen you around here before and I know everyone who comes here. It's kind of a gift, really."

"I'm a friend of Madge's," said Peeta. If he knew everyone who went to this shop then he'd surely know Madge.

"Ah, well, Madge is a lovely girl," said the cashier. He hadn't let go of Peeta's wrist yet and was instead holding it a little tighter. "So, what's your name?"

"Peeta," Peeta said slowly. He wasn't sure why the cashier was so curious, nor was he absolutely sure why he hadn't yanked his wrist away yet. "What's yours?"

"Cato." The lop-sided grin was so casual, so easily placed, that Peeta found it difficult to breathe when standing in its presence. "So Peeta, what brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Just checking this place out. The way Madge talks about it, I thought it would be a lot more . . ." Peeta tried to find the right word without coming off as offensive.

"Grand?" guessed Cato. He let go of Peeta's wrist but something kept Peeta standing there. "Elegant? Posh? Trust me, this place is a lot more interesting than any of that naff stuff. We have many things that they don't."

Peeta stepped to the side so Cato could bag up the purchase of the person behind him in the line. He rested his elbows on the glass counter and quirked an eyebrow. "Oh really? And what are they?" he asked.

"First of all," Cato began, giving the woman who was buying an Iron Maiden badge a slightly more reserved smile than the one he gave Peeta, "we sell the best weed in the entire country. Hey, don't roll your eyes, I'm serious, ask anyone."

Peeta nodded. "Okay, sure," he smiled. "You sell the best weed in the entire country, I get it. What else?"

Cato raised his eyebrows. "Isn't that enough?" he grinned.

"I suppose," Peeta agreed. He was never one for drugs, even if they were legal, but he didn't have any specific feelings towards those who did do it. "So weed is why this store is better than all of the rest?"

"That and the fact that once in a while-very rarely-sexy customers happen upon this humble little store," Cato explained. He winked and Peeta blushed, sheepishly hunching his shoulders to make himself smaller than he actually was. It was a habit he'd had ever since he was little. Whenever someone would complement him, he would make himself smaller as if it would ward off the blush he'd feel rushing to his face.

"You're just a charmer, aren't you?" Peeta found himself saying in a surprisingly teasing voice. Now where did that come from? He didn't flirt, he was physically incapable of flirting! "Why can I imagine you saying this to all of your customers? Maybe to get them to buy your newest . . ." Peeta gestured at the glass cabinet behind Cato at the bong display. "Glass smoker thing?"

Cato laughed. "I can't discount the bongs, sadly," he said.

Peeta blew a raspberry, still unconvinced. "They're pretty impressive," he said, even though he wasn't completely sure about whether they were all that impressive or not.