Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steam poured over the shower curtain and clouded the room in a soft haze. Annie tilted her head back and allowed the steady stream of water to massage her scalp and rinse away any lingering shampoo. She added some conditioner for extra shine and hoped it would be enough. The bright-eyed woman she saw in the mirror deserved a quick smile while she wrapped herself up in her towel.

The dress had been hanging off her vanity's matching chair for nearly a week, and her favorite heels had been patiently waiting on the floor next to it for almost as long. The rest of this would not be so easy.

She avoided looking at the slender top drawer of the vanity as she dried and styled her hair. If she ignored it for long enough, perhaps it would go away. Annie squeezed one eye shut and peeked down. Oh well, she hadn't really expected that strategy to work. The drawer slid open on its smooth, well-oiled track, and Annie sat there for a long moment studying the sticks, gels, creams, and powders before her, unsure of where to begin. She bit down on her bottom lip and tried to remember her prep team's ritual, but she could only recall the discomfort of sitting bare as strangers poked and prodded and pinched every inch of her for her parade and interview. After her Games, when she should have been more comfortable with the prep team, Annie had been in no condition to take notes on what product went where.

He wouldn't care what she looked like. No matter what, Julius would kiss her hand when she opened the door and tell her how lovely she looked, just as he had on each of their eleven other dates. Still, this party was important to him, and Annie hadn't had a good excuse to dress up since her disastrous Victory Tour.

She picked a compact and a brush at random and rubbed the red powder across her cheeks. Blood dribbled down her face, and her eyes snapped shut. You're okay, it's not real. Just keep breathing. In the nose, out the mouth. Again. Again. She opened her eyes and gave her reflection a shaky smile. "On second thought, maybe this isn't the best idea." Even the cheeriest voice she could manage sounded worried. "You can wash it all off. It'll be fine. Aren't you glad you gave yourself some extra time?" Nervous giggles shook her shoulders, and she splashed cold water on her face before they could cross the border into hysterics.

Ten minutes later, Annie could still make out the dark pink patch of, well, whatever that was, on her cheek, still starkly visible against the raw, red skin around it. She blew a strand of her away from her eyes and allowed her eyes to go out of focus as she thought. With a final glance in the mirror, she hurried down the stairs and out the door, not bothering to slip on a pair of sandals before hurrying up the street.

Her first knock went unanswered. "Please be home." Heavy curtains protected the front rooms from the heat of the midday sun, but they also stopped her from peeking in to see if anyone was coming. "Please?" she pleaded as she knocked again.

Annie's hand flew to her cheek when she saw who had opened the door, but she didn't get it there fast enough. "What happened to you?"

"And hello to you too." She hesitated for a moment before lowering her hand. "Is Mags home?"

Finnick grinned, and the sun caught his hair and eyes in a way that was absolutely divine – not that she'd ever tell him that. The man had plenty of ego already, and Annie wasn't going to add to it. "Are you saying you aren't here to see me?"

"As much as I'd love to stand here and talk to you all day, I really do have things to do. Is Mags home?"

"Yeah, she's in the living room. Come on in." Of all the houses in the Victors Village, only this one felt like a home. While Annie's house looked like a recreation of one of the Capitol's many decorating magazines, it could not compete with Mags and Rhonda's home, complete with worn, once-grand carpets and out of style furniture, for comfort. The floor creaked beneath her as she allowed Finnick to lead her through the entryway and kitchen and into the den, where the two old women sat chatting.

Rhonda caught sight of them first. "Annie, it's so nice of you to drop in, and looking so lovely too! Come along, come on so we can get a better look."

She smiled at Mags as she stepped into the room. "Thank you." Mags gestured for her to show them the back, and Annie twirled for them.

"Very pretty," said Mags.

Rhonda nodded. "Isn't she? Don't you think so, Finnick?"

The man flushed, but with the eyes of all three women in the room on him, he could do little than shrug. "Yeah, I guess so." Finnick

"Well, I know so. What's that on your cheek, dear?" Rhonda motioned for her to sit between them.

"Umm… well, the Peacekeepers are having their party for Two's solstice festival tonight, and Julius invited me along, so I thought I'd try to use some of the makeup that my prep team left here after my Tour." She heard Finnick snort at her mention of Julius, so she avoided Finnick's eyes as she continued, "I guess I'm not cut out to be a makeup artist."

Finnick crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Well, I suppose it's a good thing you didn't pick that as your talent, then."

"Boy, make yourself useful and go get Annie's makeup from her house." When Mags ordered you to do something, you did it, and Finnick Odair was no exception. "It will be in her bedroom in her vanity, and don't tell me that you don't know where that is because it's the same layout as your house. No, go on, shoo." She waited until Finnick had hurried from the room before turning back to Annie. "Now, dear, how is Julius these days? We haven't seen him around lately."

"He's good. Working a lot, but good." She didn't realize she was twisting the fabric of her dress between her fingers until Rhonda reached out to stop her. Annie gave her a sheepish grin and glanced at the doorway. "What's wrong with Finnick? Is there something I should know about Julius?" One would hope Finnick would tell her if she needed to be worried about the handsome Peacekeeper, but Annie had never quite understood the other Victor. Rhonda and Mags exchanged looks. "What is it?"

"Nothing, dear. I'm sure Finnick just doesn't know how to feel about you being with a Peacekeeper, is all," Rhonda comforted her.

"Well, he should cut it out. I don't care what he thinks about it."

"Always good to know that my opinions are valued." Annie whirled around to see Finnick holding a bag full of cosmetics, which he held out towards her. "Here, take these. I'm going to go out and weed the garden for a while." He had left the room before she could thank him or apologize.

Mags got up to follow him while Rhonda leaned over to pat her hand. "Don't worry, dear. He'll be all right."

"You're sure?"

"Of course I am. Now, let's see what kind of damage we can do with these."

As it turned out, Rhonda armed with a few brushes and some pots of makeup was a very dangerous woman indeed. Annie couldn't see any trace of her own failed attempt, and she had to pull herself away from her own reflection. Vanity – even if she did look drop-dead gorgeous – wasn't an attractive trait. "I love it. Thank you so much."

"It was fun, dear." Rhonda had already returned to her usual spot on her rocking chair. "You have fun and stay safe tonight, you hear?"

"Yes, ma'am." Annie beamed at her. "Thank you again for everything."

"Get out of here before I have to get up and push you out the door," Rhonda laughed.

Annie wouldn't admit it, but she half-walked, half-skipped her way home. With her bare feet and party dress, she probably looked every bit the mad Victor the Capitol liked to describe her as. By the time she reached her front door, she was humming under her breath. The sound of her telephone beeping at her greeted her at the door, and she hurried into the kitchen to listen to the message. Despite the scratchiness that the machine added to every sound, Annie immediately recognized the voice. "Um, hi, Annie," it began. "Look, well, I don't know a good way to say this, but I'm getting moved to another district soon, and I don't think this is going to work long-distance. I think it's better that we just call it quits now and don't try to force something that isn't going to happen. You're a real nice girl and all, and I really hope you find someone to be happy with. I'm sorry this is such short notice, but I really can't see you tonight."

Some masochistic streak in her made her replay the message twice, and by the end, Annie could taste salty tears. She wiped her eyes and nose with the back of her hand and sat in the corner of her living room. I don't care. It's not as though I'm in love with him. That didn't stop it from hurting.

A soft knock came at the door. Annie considered not answering, but a moment later, she heard the hinges squeak as it opened. "Annie? Are you still home?"

"Yeah, Mags, I'm here." Please don't come looking for me.

"I thought I'd come and see the finished product." The old woman finally came into view, and Annie fought the urge to shy away. "Oh dear, what's wrong?"

"I'm not going tonight, Mags. I'm not going to see him again." She tried to keep her voice even, but her body betrayed her, and a few tears managed to escape her eyes.

Mags leaned heavily on her cane as she made her way into the living room and sat down on the chair next to her. Annie moved to rest her head on the woman's lap, and she stroked her hair. "Don't worry, love, it'll be all right. I never liked the expression when I was younger, but there really are plenty of other fish in the sea, and you're such a wonderful young lady that I'm sure you'll find yourself a good one."

"I… I didn't think that we were going to fall in love, or last forever, or anything like that, but I didn't want to get tossed aside like that, like he never even cared."

"You'll find someone better. There are men out there who would never treat you that way, and you deserve one of them."

Annie shook her head. "They're all the same."

"Now, you know that's not true."

"Okay, fine. There are some nice men out there, but that doesn't mean any of them are going to be interested in me."

"I can think of one or two who seem very interested indeed."

Annie studied the other woman's face for a moment, but it revealed no more clues. "So, are you going to tell me?"

Mag shook her head. "No, but I have the feeling you'll figure it out soon enough. These things do have a tendency of working out for the better. Now, if you're feeling better, I have to say that Finnick, darling boy that he is, picked some of the strawberries this afternoon, and since you no longer have a prior commitment, you could do worse than come and see what Rhonda's managed to come up with for tonight." She pushed herself up from the couch. "Come along, up with you. There's nothing better than chocolate covered strawberries for broken hearts. You won't find that nice boy you're looking for moping around here." Mags didn't look to see if Annie was following as she hobbled out of the living room as quickly as her legs and cane could take her.

Chapter Text

“Finnick, cut it out! You’re acting like you’re five!” She turned to escape her own hair, but the movement wasn’t necessary. Her braid thumped against her back when Finnick let go of it. She frowned at him. “What made you think that was a good idea?”

He grinned down at her and shrugged. “You said that you couldn’t tickle someone with hair, so I decided to prove you wrong.” Finnick leaned back on the fence, smug as ever. Bathed in the golden light that filtered through the leaves above, he looked as though he had stepped from the pages of a magazine. He certainly made a pretty picture, but Annie had noticed more and more over the last several weeks that his looks were only one of his many charms. “And it worked.”

So much for charming. She frowned at him. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re not very much fun.”

Though Annie shook her head at him, she couldn’t very well argue with that assessment. Instead, she grabbed her rake from where it had been leaning on Mags’ garden fence. “But yet you still spend your time with me instead of the thousands of other, more fun, people around. Maybe it’s really you who doesn’t like fun.”

Finnick groaned, but still, he fetched his rake as well and followed her into the middle of the yard. “Well, Mags wouldn’t be too happy with me if I didn’t at least put up with you.” She whacked at his legs with her rake, but he danced away without being hit. “I mean, there might be some other reasons that I stick around as well, but, you know.”

She snorted. “You sure do know how to flatter the ladies.” Annie began to gather the hundreds of leaves that littered Mags’ lawn, and with Finnick’s help, pile them into a single heap. They worked in silence for a long while, both comfortable enough with each other to feel no need to speak. Finnick whistled a sea chanty as he raked, and Annie found herself doing a happy little hop-skip dance every once in a while. One particularly enthusiastic hop sent her scrambling to stay upright, and by the time she caught her balance, the song had stopped. She looked over to see Finnick watching her, worried, and she blushed. He grinned at her and went back to his raking and whistling, now adding a far more graceful version of her dance at the end of every chorus.

Though a smile sneaked onto her lips, Annie focused on the task at hand, and soon enough, the entire yard was clear and a neat pile of red and orange leaves sat beneath the oak tree Mags had planted the same year she won. Both of them stood there for a moment, admiring their work, but when Annie saw a hint of intent on Finnick’s face, she knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long. Before he could beat her to it, she ran towards the pile, flopping backwards into the cushion of leaves. “Hey, no fair!” Finnick complained.

Annie stuck her tongue out at him. “If you wanted it, you should’ve gotten here first.”

“I’ll show you.” She giggled as he hauled her upright only to fall onto the pile herself. Annie ignored the leaves that stuck to her hair as she watched him bury himself deeper into the heap. She picked up a few rogue leaves and tossed them at him, and Finnick shook one away when it landed on his face. “Hey, don’t make a mess!”

“I don’t think me tossing a couple leaves is going to add much to the mess,” she said, surveying the area around their once-neat pile.

Finnick groaned. “I don’t want to do it again.”

“Well, it’s too late for that.”

He frowned at her. “Are you going to mess it up this time?”

Annie pretended to think about it for a moment before she shrugged. “Yeah, probably.”

“Tsk tsk.”

“Oh, like you wouldn’t do the exact same thing.” She glared at where he lay on the bed of leaves, sunning himself.

Finnick shrugged. “I never said I wouldn’t. Would you like a prize for honesty?”

“No, I want you to get up and help me fix this mess.”

“Ugh, see, this is why people think you’re no fun.” Annie didn’t respond and instead tapped his arm with the rake. “Okay, fine, I’ll help. But I get to jump in it first this time.”

“We’ll see.”

To Annie’s dismay, he did end up jumping into the pile before she had a chance.

She poked at the ring of burnt rice for at least the tenth time. Annie frowned and set aside her dish rag before attacking the rice with her fingernails. She had already burned her dinner; she didn’t need a reminder of her lost rice and the lovely stench that currently clung to every surface of her kitchen the next time she tried to use the pot. Why wouldn’t it budge?

The voice on the television switched. Had she really been working on this for long enough to miss the entire show? Damn it. She would never live it down if anyone else knew, but she liked that cheesy hospital romance. There was no way any of the other Capitol programs would be half as entertaining. Wait, this voice was familiar. “Fuck off, Flickerman,” she shouted towards her living room. “I really don’t want to deal with you right now.”

Annie knew he couldn’t have heard her, but his next words seemed designed for her in particular. “Here in the studio, we’re already excited for next year’s Games, and we hope our at-home viewers are as well! We’ll have a few experts, including our new Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane, on after the commercial break, but for now, we’d like to hear what predictions you have for next year! Call the number at the bottom of the screen, and we’ll hear from a few of you live on air.” Only a few seconds passed before the first caller phoned in. “You’re on the air,” Flickerman informed them. “What do you think this year’s Games have in store for us?”

The voice on the other end crackled for a second before becoming clear. “I think the Gamemakers are going to do something this year to make sure we get a decent Victor this year. They know the last couple have been disappointing for us fans.”

“I personally have enjoyed our recent Games and adore the Victors that have come from them, but that’s an interesting view. What exactly is it about the last few Victors that you’ve found disappointing?” Oh, Caesar. Always pleasant and personable. She hated all of it, and she knew she should stop before she heard anything more, but Annie couldn’t pull herself away.

“It all started with Odair. He’s decent, but he’s also living proof that people would rather see some pretty boy win than someone who can actually play the Games the right way. And Annie Cresta? Don’t even get me started on that girl. Nobody who spends half their time hiding away under a rock should be winning the Games. Nobody. And now, she doesn’t even do the press that’s expected. I don’t care if she’s completely insane, and nobody else does either –“ His rant was cut short by a burst of static.

Caesar’s voice came on again. “It seems we’re having some technical difficulties here in the studio, so we’re going to move on to another caller.”

Finally, Annie forced herself to go into her living room and turn off the television. She stood in front of it for a few moments, looking at the darkened screen and thinking. With the back of her hand, she wiped away the tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes. “You hate them, remember? You don’t care what they think.”

But you’re mad, and everyone knows it. They either hate you or pity you. She clapped her hands over her ears, but that was never enough to stop herself. Your family isn’t here because they hate you. Finnick and Mags only stay because they feel sorry for the poor mad girl.

“No, be quiet. I don’t have to listen to you.”

But you do anyway, and you aren’t even arguing. It’s because you know, we both know, that I’m right.

She took a long, deep breath and held it for a moment, just like the doctors had told her to, before releasing it. “I’m not going to listen to you. I’m going to call my mother instead, and you can’t stop me.” Annie half-expected an argument, but none came. Still, her hands shook while she dialed in what she hoped was their number. She sank to the ground and pressed her knees to her chest as she waited for someone to pick up.

“Hello?”

“Dad?” The voice didn’t sound quite right, but she wasn’t quite right either at the moment.

“I sure hope not,” the man on the other line laughed. “It’s Finnick Odair. Can I ask who this is?”

Damn it.“Um, hi, Finnick. I think I have the wrong number.” She hoped he wouldn’t recognize her voice.

“Annie, is that you? Are you okay?”

Pity. He doesn’t care, he only pities you. “I-I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound like it. I’m coming over, all right? I don’t want you to be alone right now.” There was a click from the other end, but Annie still clutched the phone tight against her cheek. Pity. Only pity. It’s all you’re worth.

The front door squeaked open only seconds later. “Annie? Annie, where are you?” She tried to answer, but words refused to come. “Come on, love, talk to me. Help me out here.” He had opened another door, probably to her still-unused study. “Annie?” She managed something between a choke and a sob, and rapid footsteps hurried towards her. Annie saw golden shins and bare feet. “Hey, I heard you weren’t doing so well,” he said, squatting down in front of her. “Want to talk about it?”

Finnick shifted so he was sitting cross-legged beside her. “It gets better, you know. Not good, but better.” Annie wormed her way a bit closer to him and rested her head against his arm. He stiffened for an instant before leaning in towards her. “I think almost all of us have bad days. I used to hide under my desk with a knife for hours when I was scared someone would come get me.” He was quiet for a moment. “I think the ones who come out almost whole are the most broken.”

When she looked up at him, his green eyes were misty. Annie snaked her arms around him. “Don’t worry, you’re safe,” she whispered.  “I won’t let anything hurt you.”

He shook his head. “And here I was thinking that I was going to be doing the comforting.” Still, he leaned further into her embrace.

Chapter Text

That year, Isaac had lost his first tooth, and he had graced each and every one of her mother's pictures that season with his gappy smile. Annie snorted and turned the page. Her mother had decided on matching dresses for her and Georgia for the Reaping the year she turned seven. Little her looked so happy, absolutely beaming for the camera. She hadn't understood then what the Games really meant. They had been a chance to dress up and go into town, a day away from the shop for Mommy and Daddy. When there were extra credits to spare, there was even ice cream in the air-conditioned shop downtown waiting for them once the ceremony was over – but only if they were good. She wished she could go back to that time and enjoy it a little longer.

She jumped at the sound of a voice. "Girl, don't tell me you're spending the holidays all alone." Annie looked up from her memory book and her almost full mug of cocoa to see Rhonda standing in her kitchen.

She set down the cup, and a few drips of liquid dribbled down the side. "I was planning to go out to my parents' house, but with this weather…" She shrugged, "It just didn't seem safe."

"I am seventy-six years old, and this is only the third time I have ever seen snow in my life. You'd think Mother Nature would know better than to spoil the holidays like this. Hmph." She sat down next to Annie. "But still, my point stands. You shouldn't be spending Christmas alone."

"I didn't want to impose." Mags and Rhonda had already done so much for her; she wouldn't dare spoil their merry Christmas with the mood she was in.

"And we didn't want to have a Christmas of two, so I suggest you get yourself on over to our place. Annie, girl, you couldn't impose if you tried." She clapped Annie's thigh. "Come along now, get your coat on. I won't have you freezing on your way over." Rhonda groaned as she stood up. "Joints aren't made for that anymore. You can bring your book along, but Mags is expecting the both of us for dinner in just a couple minutes here, and you should know better than to disappoint her."

"I wouldn't want to do that," Annie agreed, and she rose from the couch. She grabbed her cup and took a few more sips as she hurried towards the kitchen. She winced at the reflection she caught in the window. "And maybe I should change too. I'm guessing Mags won't appreciate my knee-high socks and pajama pants."

"They do make a darling set, love, but you're probably right."

Annie curled her knees up to her chest as she watched the fire flicker, sending warm, golden light dancing through the living room. Between the fire crackling inside and the light dusting of snow that sat over Four like a layer of powdered sugar, she couldn't picture a more beautiful Christmas. "Pretty, isn't it?" Mags said from across the room. "I do love having fires in here. Sometimes, I wish I lived up in Seven or Eight just so I could have that feeling of getting warm when I come in from the cold. We don't get too many chances for that here, do we?" Annie shook her head. Mags smiled over at her. "Are you having a nice Christmas, dear? I know you were looking forward to seeing your family."

"It's been wonderful. Thank you so much for having me over. I really can't thank you enough." They deserved so, so much than a simple thanks for all the help and support they had given her over the past year and a half, but she couldn't think of anything more to give. "Dinner was wonderful."

"Well, any chance to drink, right? It puts the merry in merry Christmas." The red stain in Rhonda's cheeks and her occasional hiccups remained an hour after all the sherry had been tucked back into the cupboard.

Annie laughed. "I suppose so."

Mags rocked back and forth in her rocking chair, and from the way her head rested against the chair's back, Annie wondered if she would soon rock herself to sleep. The old woman's eyes focused on the coffee table. "What's in the book you brought over?"

She looked over at the thick, leather-bound volume. "It's a memory book my mother put together for me after I won."

"May I have a look?"

"Of course." She got up to grab the book, and she was surprised when Mags came over and sat next to the spot she had just vacated. Annie curled her legs underneath her as she watched Mags flip through the first few pages. "That's my parents' first anniversary, before they had any of us."

The woman paused to admire the photograph. She pointed towards Annie's mother. "You look like her. You're both very lovely. And look at that, your father still had a full head of hair back then."

Annie had to laugh. "That goes away pretty quickly here." She guided Mags to a few of her favorites: a group photo of the last big Cresta family reunion before her grandparents had died, a very proud Annie on her tenth birthday, Edmund dangling a fish that couldn't have been more than three inches long off of his first homemade fishing pole. Mags listened patiently to the stories that accompanied the images, only stopping to ask for clarification or tell her how darling a certain photo was.

"This is an incredible book. I didn't know your family had a camera."

Annie understood the unspoken question. I didn't think your family had enough money for a camera. It was a more than reasonable assumption. Out on the islands, even the shopkeepers struggled to get by. "We couldn't have afforded it on our own, but my great-aunt was married to the mayor, and my mother was her favorite niece. When my parents got married, she insisted that she buy them something a bit frivolous and not at all necessary, so Mom picked a camera, and every time we had a few extra credits, she'd get another roll of film and snap pictures of everything she could." She caressed the edge of one page she'd dog-eared, a photo of one of her brothers – she couldn't tell which from this view – splashing in the waves. "I'm glad she did. It's nice to look over it when I'm missing them." Mags settled her hand over Annie's and gave it a gentle squeeze. The younger woman bit down on her lip, trying to think of how to best phrase her request. "Mags? I have a few blank pages at the end. Could I maybe add some pictures of the two of you?" Her words were rushed, and she wondered for a moment if she'd even been understandable, but Mags smiled.

"I'm sure we have a few good pictures somewhere in this big old place," she said.

"Thank you so much. And, um, do you have one that I could take of Finnick? Y'know, for when he's in the Capitol or stuff." There was no reason for her to be blushing right now. None whatsoever.

"He is a very important piece of our little family, and I'm sure he'd be happy to be in that book a second time."

"A second time?"

"Take another look at that picture of you and your sister in the red dresses. I think you're probably eight or nine in it." She hobbled away, leaning on her cane more heavily than usual after a few glasses of sherry, to find the photos Annie had asked for. Left alone with a dozing Rhonda and the book, Annie set about finding the picture. There it is. It was the same one she'd been looking at this morning. Two dark-haired girls in matching red dresses smiled back at her, the taller of the two posing with one foot in front of the other and her skirt fanned out around her. Both girls wore red ribbons in their hair, but the younger one's curls were an absolute mess. Annie remembered her mother trying to coax away her curls for hours, swiftly going between swearing under her breath and ordering Annie never to repeat any of the words she'd just heard, before finally admitting defeat. She'd seen this picture a hundred times or more, but only now did Annie spot the bronze-haired boy in the background. She knew those green eyes and that smile. Annie removed the photo from the page. Mags had said a few days before that Finnick liked getting mail, especially pictures, while he was in the Capitol, and she finally had the perfect thing.

"Hey," he said as he slid into the passenger seat of the silver sports car. The seat was just a little too small to fit him comfortably, but he couldn't help but admire the interior. Shining chrome, dark leather, mahogany, all the extras. Even for a Victor, this sweet little number must have been a splurge. "Christmas present?"

"To me, from me, and it goes from zero to a hundred in under three seconds. Best kind of present there is," Johanna answered. Her fingers caressed the dashboard as she spoke.

"You're in love."

She nodded. "It's my baby, and I will love it and protect it as such."

"And not use it for street racing like your old one."

"Now you're just being ridiculous. I'm sure she'll beat all those playboys, but she's not quite ready for all that yet." She gave Finnick a wink. "I have a few special modifications planned – the kind they can't give you aboveboard at the dealership. She'll be the baddest thing around." Finnick could already see the visions of gunning the engine and squealing brakes dancing in her head. "Not that she can't already do some damage," Johanna added, looking over towards him again. "Wanna see?" Without waiting for a response, she turned the key in the ignition, and Finnick could feel the monster beneath them awaken.

"Johanna? Johanna, don't," he warned. Her grin grew as she stroked the steering wheel, her eyes focused on the traffic light above. He could almost see her counting down the seconds until it turned green. "Johanna -"

His next words were lost as he was pressed back into his seat. The instant the light turned, Johanna floored the accelerator, sending them speeding through one of the Capitol's many thoroughfares. Finnick clutched his armrests as the lights around them blurred into thin bands of brightness. Though it was well past midnight, the Capitol never truly slept, and the streets were far from empty. An orchestra of honks and shouts followed their every move. More than once, a particularly sharp turn or near collision would make Finnick wonder if he would ever step out of Johanna's sleek little speedster alive. Another bump made his heart skip a beat, and he clenched his eyes shut. There was little he could do but hope for the best.

Johanna braked as suddenly as she had accelerated. Finnick hissed as he was sent crashing first into his safety belt and then backwards into his seat. He took a few deep, calming breaths before opening his eyes to glare at Johanna, who was laughing, her eyes still wide with adrenaline. She pushed a sweaty strand of dark hair out of her eyes. "Oh, get your panties out of a knot, Odair. What's the worst that could have happened? I can pay off any ticket they want to give me."

"A ticket? Johanna, we could have died!"

"And what would have been so bad about that?" With anyone else, he would have written off that reply as a joke, but Johanna's tone was serious. She raised an eyebrow and looked over at him.

He shook his head. "I'd like to think there are some people out there who would miss me." Wrong thing to say. "Oh, Johanna, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it like that –"

She brushed off the comment. "Again, Odair, stop worrying. I'm not the sensitive one here."

A grin tugged at the edges of his lips. "I suppose not." They sat in silence for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts.

"So, that Annie girl. She seems nice."

An interesting change in topic, but he expected that from Johanna. "Yeah, yeah, she really is."

"Cute, too." He nodded, wondering where this was going. "She's not coming out to the Capitol this year?"

"Nah." And that's the way it should stay. Nobody needs this, but especially not her. "Probably not next year either. I guess they kind of want people to forget she exists."

"That's good." She let another long silence stretch between them. "So, do you think I'd have a shot?"

"No."

Johanna snorted. "Defensive much? So, how long have the two of you been seeing each other?" He couldn't find a good answer to that one. "Please tell me that you've at least talked to this girl and haven't just been spying on her from the shadows or some creepy shit like that."

"I've talked to her plenty of times!" He ignored her raised eyebrow and the bemused twitch in her lips. "And no, I'm not interested in her in that way at all. We're just friends. I don't think she's interested in women is all."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's totally all there is to this story. We all know how well you handle crushes, after all. Remember how smooth you were with that singer at Caessa's party a couple years ago? That was legendary."

His cheeks flamed, but he couldn't give in now. "It wasn't that bad, and anyway, this isn't anything like that. How many times do I have to tell you that we're just friends?" Finnick tried to hold her gaze, but eventually, he slumped back in his seat. "Fine, think what you like. I got some letters from home today. Will you read them for me?"

She nodded, and he withdrew the neatly folded envelopes from his breast pocket. With any luck, they wouldn't have sweat on them from his recent near-death experiences. He gave them what he hoped was a subtle whiff before passing them over. Apparently not. Still, since the recipient had been the root cause of that stress, he had a hard time feeling sorry for her. She didn't seem to notice, and quickly unfolded the three envelopes. "All right, we've got Mags, your aunt, and, well, speak of the devil," she said, holding out one for his inspection.

Finnick shook his head. "Annie?"

"You bet. Think it was sealed with a kiss?" she teased, but when he gave her a dark look, she shrugged. "Fine, I'll read it. Here we are.

"Finnick. We had a nice Christmas here in Four. It snowed for the first time that I can remember, so I went over to Mags and Ronda's home instead of spending the holidays at my parents' place, and we had a lovely time. Four looks beautiful covered in snow. I put in a few pictures so that you can see – I don't know when we'll get another chance to enjoy it.

"I found another photo as well, one of me when I was younger. We were wondering if the little boy in the background seemed familiar. I know I was a little surprised.

"I hope you're having a very happy holiday season and having lots of fun in the Capitol. We look forward to having you home again. Love, Annie." Johanna passed him the letter and the pictures behind it. "Love, Annie," she repeated. "Just a casual mention of undying love between friends, right?" She waited for his reply, but Finnick was too busy poring over the photographs with the stupidest smile she'd ever seen on his face. Johanna shook her head. "Alright, Odair, let's get you home before anyone sees you all love drunk."

"Hmm?" He still hadn't looked up from the pictures, and she peeked over his shoulder at one of them. That passed for snow in Four? Wimps.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." She couldn't help but be a tiny bit jealous as they started back towards the Training Center.

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