Chapter Text
Katniss’ eyes glaze over for the 549th time in the past hour as she sits through yet another webinar at her desk. The rational part of her understands that these online training courses lead to additional certifications, which in turn lead to more responsibility, and ultimately, more pay. Remember why you do this , she tells herself. For Prim.
If only it weren’t so mind-numbingly boring.
She shakes herself awake and downs a bit more coffee before rewinding to the last place she actually recalls being lucid. But no sooner does she hit a groove when another distraction arrives, casting a shadow over her desk.
“Leave me alone, Finnick,” she says tersely, not bothering to look up. “I’m busy.”
The gruff voice that replies is not the one she expects to hear. “Well, Sweetheart, that’s too bad. You’re being summoned.”
Confused, Katniss looks up from her station to see her boss leaning on the wall of her cubicle.
“Huh?”
“You’re being summoned,” Haymitch repeats, pausing to take a long sip from his Shut Your Mouth When You're Talking to Me mug. “It seems that you’re needed for an audience with the big boss.”
Katniss gulps. Why on earth does Mr. Snow, of all people, want to speak with her? She’s barely been there for two months. Unless…
Oh no.
“I, uh, I’m still doing this training,” Katniss demurs, gesturing helplessly at her desktop. “I’m almost done with the section on interpreting for legal-“
“Save it, Sweetheart. I’ve been told you’re to report to the main office upstairs in ten minutes.”
“But-“
“Save it.” Haymitch smirks. “No, I mean, actually save your progress. You can come back to it when you’re done.” Turning to walk away, he adds, “Good luck up there.”
Flustered, Katniss clumsily goes about saving her session before smoothing out her skirt and heading to the elevators. With each step, her panic mounts. How the hell is she going to talk her way out of this one?
I understand that posing as a phone sex operator was an unorthodox move, but one done purely with the interests of the client in mind.
Yeah, no. That’s probably worse.
Besides, she’s been working at PVRS for weeks now. Ten weeks, to be exact. Which means it’s been ten weeks since she took that call from Peeta. Ten weeks since she humiliated herself in front of a complete stranger, only to have him turn out to be sweet and funny and incredibly talented.
And ten weeks since she’s heard from him.
Not that she’s counting. And not that she’s mad about it - or at least, that’s what she tells herself. It's weird to her that she should feel disappointed - angry, even - that he just kind of dropped off the face of the earth like that. She's not used to feeling this way about someone she knew for literally no more than a couple hours, and even then over video chat. It makes her feel unprofessional. If anything, she should be relieved that she never heard from him again. But she can't help but wonder what he's up to, and how the next issue in his series is coming along.
Not that she went to the comic shop to check out his work. And she certainly didn't buy the whole series. Nope.
Katniss pushes thoughts of Peeta away so at she can focus on her current predicament. She wracks her brain for clues as to how Snow could have possibly found out about the call. It couldn't have been Finnick - she never told anyone except Haymitch, and that was only because he was right there. As for Haymitch...he might be an a grouch, but he’s not a snitch. Besides, he doesn't seem to like Snow very much, nor does he stand to benefit from ratting her out. Sure, he's had fun holding it over her head, but aside from that, she knows her secret is safe with him.
Unless...unless the video cameras don’t just do streaming, but also record for “quality assurance”? She wouldn't put it past Mr. Snow...she's heard enough rumors during her short time at PVRS to suspect the guy is capable of anything. But wouldn’t a move like that go against the confidentiality rules that they’re bound by as video relay interpreters?
Stay calm, she tries to tell herself. You have no idea why you're meeting with him. For all you know, it could be nothing.
Or you could be walking to your doom.
---
By the time she has stepped through the doors to Coriolanus Snow’s office, she's so terrified that she's ready to hand in her resignation right then and there.
“Katniss Everdeen to see you, sir,” his assistant says as he escorts Katniss inside.
Mr. Snow doesn't bother to turn from the window and face them; his eyes stay focused on the cars passing on the highway below. “Thank you, Seneca. Miss Everdeen, please make yourself comfortable,” he says, gesturing to the seating area in a manner that only seems to increase her discomfort tenfold.
Nervously, Katniss takes a seat in the large leather chair opposite Snow’s massive mahogany desk.
Finally, he turns to look at his employee. His eyes bore into Katniss suspiciously, and she resists the urge to squirm in her seat. After what feels like an interminable silence, he speaks. "I suppose you may be wondering why I’ve asked to speak with you today."
Katniss nods mutely. Best to keep her mouth shut and find out exactly how much he knows before she attempts to defend herself.
Snow continues. “In case you are not already aware, Panem Video Relay Services is part of a larger umbrella organization that caters to the hearing impaired community. We offer remote interpreting, transliteration, and of course, in-person translation services.” He pauses. “We are pioneers in this burgeoning market, and as such, pride ourselves on setting a standard of professionalism others can only hope to emulate. Which is why I think it’s so important that we have this conversation today.”
Katniss swallows hard. Here it comes, she thinks. She’s getting sacked.
Seemingly unaware of her inner turmoil, Snow goes on. “It is my understanding that you have only been employed with PVRS for two months…”
Yeah, she responds silently. I haven’t even been here long enough for my health benefits to kick in.
“…so you can imagine my surprise when I was told that your translation services have been specifically requested for one of our potential clients.”
Katniss quirks a brow, confused. “Excuse me, sir?”
“The Capitol Convention Center is hosting Capitol Fan Expo in two weeks,” he explains. “For conferences and events where interpretation services are necessary, they customarily use one of our…competitors,” he says, wrinkling his nose with distaste at the latter statement. “However, one of the guests appearing at this event has insisted upon working with us. Specifically, on working with you.”
Katniss’ eyes widen in surprise. “Me, sir?”
“Yes. A Miss Effie Trinket personally contacted them to put in the request. Said that no one else would be acceptable.”
Effie…Effie…Katniss does a mental inventory of all the clients she has worked with in the past two months, but draws a blank. “I don’t believe I am familiar with that person.”
“Well, she’s familiar with you, and for some reason, she wants you for this event.” Snow folds his hands in front of him as he formulates his next words. “Now, normally I would never send a junior interpreter to an event of this size. That said, you must have done something to impress Miss Trinket, and if she has enough influence to convince Capitol Convention Center to switch vendors, that is of interest to me. Apparently these fan expos are held all over the country. This strikes me as a golden opportunity for us to expand our reach into the national market.”
Katniss nods, but Snow’s words just seem to fly in one ear and out the other, still hung up on trying to figure out who this Effie person is and why she wants Katniss to be her interpreter. Surely if this woman’s got pull, she’s already got her own personal translator/lackey ready to follow her around…
Her attention is redirected back to Snow when he starts discussing the particulars of the contract. “Of course, it goes without saying that providing in-person interpreter services is a more, shall we say, immersive experience than video relay, so you can expect to be compensated accordingly. You will also be provided a per diem and hotel accommodation for the duration of the event.”
“How long is this expo?”
“Three days,” he replies. “But your services will be required for up to five. You will be the client’s personal translator and will accompany them to all events. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I haven't even asked you yet if you are comfortable with this assignment."
The look in his eyes dares her to say otherwise.
---
When Katniss returns to her cubicle half an hour later, she finds Finnick in her chair, waiting for her.
"I thought you said you were going to have lunch with me today," he complains. "I've been here for almost fifteen minutes!"
"Sorry about that. I had an unexpected meeting."
"Meh, no worries. I don't have another call until 2. But you have to hear about the one I had this morning. The guy was clearly wishing I was someone else - you could see the disappointment in his sad little puppy dog eyes the second the connection went through. Guess I wasn't pretty enough to handle his call, eh? Anyway, he-" Finnick stops himself. "Wait, what meeting?"
"I just had a meeting with Mr. Snow."
"Shit, what? Okay, let's get out of here. I want to hear everything."
Grabbing her bagged lunch out of her desk, Katniss follows Finnick out of the office building and toward their usual lunchtime spot in the courtyard. She looks nervously around her, as if Snow has sent someone to follow her around and report back on her every move.
Finnick eyes her curiously as he sets out his lunch items on the picnic table. "So," he prods, "What happened at this meeting that's got you so spooked?"
"Snow is sending me to work as an interpreter for some new client at Capitol Fan Expo in two weeks," she answers, picking at her pasta salad.
"What? That's fantastic!" Finnick exclaims. His brow furrows in confusion. "Wait, why aren't you excited about this? That is an awesome opportunity."
"Yeah, I guess so...it was just really strange, you know? I mean, one minute I'm convinced that he's about to fire me, and the next I'm being told I've been 'specifically requested' to work at this event by some high-powered comic book celeb whose name I don't even recognize. I just got a weird vibe from the whole thing."
"Okay, well first of all, why you were worried about getting fired is totally beyond me. You've only been here a couple months, and already you're the number one most requested operator - aside from myself, of course," Finnick adds jokingly. "Come on, remember that caller I was just telling you about? I bet he was looking for you, too. Just enjoy it, Miss Popular."
Katniss is tempted to correct him, but instead just says, “Not in the mood, Finnick. Seriously, I’m freaking out here. I mean, Snow all but threatened to fire me if I screw this up. It's a lot of pressure, you know what I mean? And you know how much I need this job.”
Realizing how bothered she really is, Finnick nods sympathetically. "Okay, well, why don't you take me through the whole meeting, and I can help you figure out some kind of strategy for how to deal with it."
The pair spend the next few minutes discussing the particulars of Snow's request and Katniss' assignment. Finnick interjects every so often to fill her in on the office gossip about the rivalry between Snow and Coin.
“So are you the only one going to this thing?”
Katniss shakes her head. “No, thank goodness. I’ll be the personal translator for the client, but CCC is also bringing in a few other experienced interpreters to translate for public appearances and stuff.”
"Wow. Snow must be foaming at the mouth over this," he tells her. "The guy's been trying to poach business from Coin for years, and CCC is one of her biggest clients. And because of this one lady’s request, they’re switching over to us for the whole thing? No wonder he said yes to sending you in. The man is out for blood."
"I thought the whole point of this conversation was to make me feel better," Katniss whines.
"I'm just showing you the lay of the land, man. I mean, you do well on this assignment, and you could potentially make out like a bandit in this business. But if you mess it up...all I can say is, he's the grudge holding type."
“Great. Thanks, Finn, I feel so much more at ease now.”
Finnick just laughs. “Relax, Katniss. You’ll be fine. You’re like this freakishly talented signing superstar. But if it helps, have this,” he says, pulling a bag of Pop Rocks seemingly out of nowhere. “Apple flavor. Always makes things better.”
Katniss grudgingly accepts with a sigh. “Thanks.”
“Any time. But seriously - whatever you do, don’t fuck this up.”
---
Exactly two weeks later, Katniss finds herself in the fanciest hotel she has ever seen - not that she has much experience staying in hotels, given that she's rarely strayed more than a few miles from smallish city she's lived in most of her life. After checking in and dropping her things off in her room, she asks hotel reception to let Ms. Trinket know she has arrived and direct her to where she is seated so that they can get started. Settling onto one of the plush couches in the lobby, she decides to go over her notes on how to be effective interpreter for the 50th time in three days.
Within a few minutes, her last minute studying is interrupted by the click-clack of stiletto heels reverberating on the marble floor. When the sound ceases, she looks up to find a standing before her a brightly dressed woman with the biggest hair she has ever seen. Effie Trinket, she presumes.
Katniss immediately stands to greet her, but before she even has the opportunity to sign Hello, her client exclaims, "Welcome, welcome! You must be Katniss. I am so looking forward to working with you!"
Confused, Katniss' hands still in front of her chest. She knows enough not to assume that deaf people can't speak - after all, Prim speaks perfectly well - but she can immediately tell that this woman's accent is not a byproduct of any sort of hearing impairment.
"You can hear," Katniss says. It's an accusation, not a question.
"Well of course I can, my dear! What kind of agent would I be if I couldn't hear?"
Katniss is incensed by the privilege dripping in her rather flippant response, but hearing Finnick in her head telling her not to fuck this assignment up, she schools her features into an apologetic smile and says, "My mistake. I had assumed since you had been named as my client-"
"Oh, pish posh. Think nothing of it, I understand completely. Now, shall we? My - or I suppose I should say, our - client is waiting upstairs in the suite. I’ll brief you on the way up."
Katniss dutifully follows Effie to the elevator bank, trying hard to look like she's paying attention to Effie as she twitters on about panels and schedules and how these fan expos have really taken on a life of their own in recent years. "Every event wants to be the next SDCC," Effie observes. Katniss just nods, even though she has absolutely no clue what the woman is talking about.
By the time they have reached the 24th floor, Effie has covered so many topics that Katniss can barely think straight. Sensing her nervousness, Effie lays a hand on her arm with a smile. "Don't worry, my dear, I'm sure you will do a fabulous job. For one thing, you've already impressed me by arriving at the hotel early. Our last interpreter was just horrid - never on time," she huffs. “Then again, neither is Mr. Mellark. I’m afraid you may have to help me rein him in and keep him on schedule. But we mustn't keep him waiting, must we? Come, come!"
Katniss’ ears perk up at the mention of the name Mellark. She knows that name.
Mellark...Mellark…
She's still trying to figure out why the name sounds so familiar when they arrive at the suite. Effie pulls out the key card with a flourish, pronouncing, "Ah, here we are!"
Fan expo…
Effie ushers her into the room. Katniss only has a moment to take in her surroundings when her gaze lands on the young man standing by the window, looking at the world outside.
Needs an interpreter…
Effie strides purposefully across the room and taps the man on the shoulder, gesturing that he has someone to meet.
Oh. Shit.
He turns. As their eyes lock, panic surges through her.
This can’t be happening.
“Katniss, I’d like to introduce you to Peeta Mellark.”