Prologue:

Finnick Odair doesn't get to see Annie Cresta die. He's at an appointment. There were three tributes left. He hadn't wanted to leave. But there was no way he was saying 'no'. Not with Annie's life in Snow's hands.

So he went.

The woman's phone rings halfway through, and Finnick pretends to listen while she apologizes, while she tells him that this could be important, and one must always check their phone because the styles are constantly changing. He leans back on her too-soft bed and closes his eyes and reminds himself that she's rich and he's just drunk enough to get through it and that he can beg for sponsors as soon as she's done and maybe it will help Annie get home.

Then the woman squeals. "Oh, a tribute just died. Cissy says it was one of the scariest deaths she's ever seen. A shark! Can you believe that? I'm so glad I wasn't watching. I hate blood-"

"Who died?" asks Finnick. The woman shrinks back at his tone, but Finnick sits up and clenches his fists in her pink down comforter and demands, "Who died?"

"T-the girl from your district," says the woman. "I don't know her name…"

Finnick snatches his clothes off the floor and leaves without a word. It occurs to him that he still has people who could get punished for this- Mags and his mother and maybe even Annie's family- but the thought doesn't register. He can't stay with this hideous Capitol woman any longer.

Finnick does not cry. He does not even think. He goes directly to a bar. The first one he can find. He's never been one for straight alcohol- it was always fruity drinks that made Haymitch laugh at him- but he goes for the strongest they have and drinks until his vision starts to blur and he can almostforget why he's there in the first place. The knowledge that Annie is dead hangs on the edge of his brain and he realizes that he'll make himself suffer through the replays eventually, but for now all he can think is that he's not quite drunk enough. He demands more and is about to down another gulp of whatever's in his glass when a hand on his arm stops him.

"It won't make it go away." Haymitch Abernathy snatches the umpteenth glass from Finnick's hands. Finnick stares at him. Stares at the glass. Then he breaks down sobbing.

It takes a long time for the pair to get to the Training Center. Longer for a completely drunk man and another relatively drunk man to remember how the elevator works. They get the wrong floor twice. Finnick doesn't quit crying the entire time. Sobbing. Screaming. Wishing he were dead.

Finally they get to District Four's level, and when the doors open and Finnick sees Mags sitting on the couch with her head in her hands, he manages a single sentence before he passes out.

"You should've let me die in the arena."

…

Ch.1

He's wearing a suit that's slightly too tight and the hot weather has him almost roasting. Complaining wouldn't have done him good because all of his clothes are too tight. They've been tailored that way, to show off a body he's long since wished he didn't have.

Oh well. If all goes well, maybe he'll be able to get some new clothes. Married men don't have as much cause to look nice. He won't need to attract women anymore. All he'll have to do is convince Snow to let him purchase his very own teenage girl, and his wardrobe problem will be entirely solved.

This sounds like a terrible joke, Finnick thinks. 'The prostitute walks up to his pimp. "Hey, I've got an hankering to settle down. You know that sixteen-year-old girl you're planning on whoring out soon? Yeah, well, I want to marry her. I'll even pay you.'"

Finnick takes a rattling breath. It's better than the alternative. Or at least that's what he's been telling himself since Haymitch cornered him in District Four's apartments the day before.

"Katniss got a lot of attention when she buried that little girl with flowers. A hell of a lot more when she refused to kill that Career, and he let her win anyway," Haymitch said without introduction.

"So?"

"So you know about the uprising in Eleven, and there's talk of more coming in Six and Eight."

"I've heard."

"You also know Snow's plans for Katniss. Johanna was saying her first night is planned to go for higher than yours."

Finnick didn't look up. Katniss had impressed him, sure, but there was nothing he could do to help her. Dwelling on how sick her situation was wasn't good for his state of mind. Not when he had an appointment in two hours and wasn't keen on being reminded that a sixteen-year-old girl would be dreading the exact same thing very, very soon.

"You know there's nothing we can do."

"If she turns into another Capitol sex-symbol, everything that she's done for the rebellion so far will go to waste." Finnick opened his mouth, but Haymitch cut him off, going on, "And don't you dare tell me that I won't be able to stop this from happening. I came up with an idea yesterday, and in my opinion, it's a damned good one."

Which is when Haymitch informed Finnick that he could save Katniss from prostitution. By convincing Snow to sell her to him. As his wife.

Finnick thought it was sick. He'd been asked to buy her against her will, just like he'd been bought so many dozens of times since he was her age.

The only thing that convinced him to agree to Haymitch's idea was the memory of watching Katniss Everdeen clean out her district partner's wound in the river. She hadn't been able to look when he took off his shorts because she was so damn pure and innocent. Finnick knew that no matter how terrible stealing her future and forcing her into marrying him was, at least he would never do anything with her. She'd stay innocent as far as he was concerned.

So Finnick decided to go along with the whole crazy idea and that's how he winds up in President Snow's waiting room, twiddling his thumbs and ignoring the leering secretary and wondering how he's ever going to convince Snow to let this happen in the first place.

Before he can think on it too much, the thick wooden door to Snow's office opens and the secretary nods to whatever politician was visiting the president. Her eyes then return to Finnick. "The President can see you now, Mister Odair."

Some combination of natural flirtatiousness and ingrained habit prompts Finnick to smile as he ambles past the secretary's desk. His Capitol purr might as well have become his real voice, and it's without thinking that he uses it to say, "How unfortunate. I adore Snow, but I was having such a great time looking at you." He turns so that he continues to face the secretary as he backs into Snow's office, "You're positively stunning."

The woman puts her hand over her mouth and blushes, and Finnick exhales as he shuts the door behind him. Maybe they'll stop blushing once he's married.

Maybe there's a better chance of a snowman thriving in hell.

A cough from behind him reminds Finnick of his current location, and the victor swivels around so that he's facing Snow. The president is smiling.

Of course he is. The bastard is always smiling.

"Nice secretary you've got there," says Finnick conversationally. "She seemed fond of me."

"Of course she's fond of you. I sold her to you for a lucrative amount of money several years ago."

Finnick doesn't remember.

"Must've forgot." The words come easy, like he doesn't give a shit that he didn't recognize a thing about a woman he apparently slept with. "It gets hard to keep track after a while." There's a pause before Finnick goes on. "Funnily enough, that's what I'm here to talk to you about."

"You'll have to be more specific," says Snow cautiously.

"I mean, I'm kind of getting tired of one-night stands and screwing around with too many girls to count." His tone of voice is still light. Friendly. Like this is a conversation between close acquaintances. "I want to settle down."

Snow is not amused.

"Dear Finnick, have you forgotten what happened to the last girl you wished to 'settle down' with?" Finnick flinches outright, and he fists his hands in the material of his suit jacket to tether him to reality. He can't have one of his breakdowns. Not in front Snow. He grits his teeth and forces himself to listen as the president continues. "I am rather disappointed that my spies did not pick up on this new interest, but-"

"I haven't met her yet," Finnick cuts in quickly. His voice is shaky with the memory of Annie and run through with pain, and he has to take a moment to compose himself. Even the mention of her, of what he did to her, sends him back light years mentally, and Finnick closes his eyes and takes several deep breaths before he finds himself able to continue. "I don't love this girl." He feels like he's going to be sick. "I want her. I want to buy her."

"How… interesting. I would have thought that you, of all people, would disprove of using such methods to gain yourself a night of enjoyment... Although you don't want her for only one night, do you?" He frowns. "You wish to 'settle down'."

"Of course," says Finnick.

"So this girl… you would be paying to take her as your wife."

"If you will be so kind as to allow it."

"That all depends," Snow says, still speaking hesitantly. "Who is it that you wish to buy from me?"

Finnick looks him right in the eye. "I want the Girl on Fire."

"No."

The reply is too instant and too forceful to be entirely uninterested. If the idea was truly ludicrous to Snow, Finnick knows that the older man would have laughed in his face. Instead, his answer is just quick enough that Finnick knows there's something about the idea that appeals to the president. Something that has him interested enough to be slightly uncomfortable.

"No?" asks Finnick harmlessly. "I don't see why you would have a problem with it. A Capitol wedding between two popular victors would bring in a ludicrous amount of revenue. Katniss would be more valuable as my wife than as a prostitute, and you know it."

"I don't see where you would get such a ridiculous idea."

"Don't you? Katniss's prices are high now because Capitol men think her morality is refreshing." Finnick looks Snow in the eye, his expression still friendly. "That morality will be entirely gone before her first weekend is up."

"They'll still pay for her fire."

"Enough to justify forgoing a wedding that will make millions?" asks Finnick. "And think beyond the wedding. There will be magazine articles, books, perhaps even movies. It will be a marketing dream."

Snow narrows his eyes.

"We both know that it's not just the money I want."

"I realize that you enjoy exercising control over victors," Finnick ventures cautiously. Snow does not deny it. "However, Katniss won't be submitting to this marriage willingly. Like I said, I haven't even spoken to her yet."

"Then why are you so interested in her?"

Finnick swallows. His hands are still clutching his suit jacket, and the fingers clench together more tightly as he prepares to mention her, the knuckles turning white and the fabric bunching awkwardly together.

Focus.

"She reminds me of Annie," says Finnick, and the name feels like acid on his tongue. "It's wrong, but… I can't get the resemblance out of my head. I know you didn't approve of my previous fiancée, but Katniss is different. You know that a love story between the two of us will benefit you just as much as selling us separately would."

This comes as a surprise to Snow. He was clearly thinking that Finnick wanted to buy Katniss to 'save' her, in which case he would never allow the purchase to be made. Snow enjoys controlling his tributes and selling Katniss to Finnick for that reason would be allowing two of them to slip out of his grasp.

Having Finnick force Katniss into something is much, much different. It would entail Finnick going against every moral standard he's ever held because of mental anguish Snow caused, while at the same time tossing Katniss into a marriage with a crazy male prostitute who can't tell her apart from his dead ex-fiancée.

Snow would still have his control. The Capitol would have a love story.

It's such a win-win situation that Finnick isn't entirely surprised when Snow says, "She's yours if you can afford her."

"How much?"

"Ten million."

Finnick exhales. Victors get seven million for winning and nothing after. Finnick is an exception. He has more than enough money. The gifts his clients give him and the additional profit he rakes in through appearing at Capitol events have made him as wealthy as the richest of Capitol citizens.

"It's all in my accounts."

Snow isn't surprised by this.

"There will be rules for you to follow… Unless, of course, you wouldn't mind if I forced your wife into becoming unfaithful every once in a while."

"I'm listening," says Finnick. His voice is even, as if Snow's words don't upset him at all.

"I want profit off of this, and that will only happen if you make it believable. I don't want people thinking you purchased her. I want them believing that you courted her. Is this clear?"

"Crystal."

"You'll live in the Capitol at least half the year. I want to be able to monitor you." Snow pauses. "The wedding will take place here as well- during the Capitol appearance Katniss makes on her victory tour would be best, I think. Is that too much to ask?"

Finnick doesn't like this and he doesn't think Haymitch will either, but he knows for a fact that arguing will only make him lose ground.

"Of course not. Thank you so much for you generosity, sir." He exhales through gritted teeth. "Is that all?"

Snow smirks.

"Not quite. There is one more rather… important condition I have yet to set. I can't entirely trust that you aren't lying to me in order to 'rescue' Miss Everdeen from prostitution, so I need proof that you are truly buying her for your own personal use."

Finnick's heart stops. God no.

"I want Katniss pregnant within two months of your marriage. "

It's too late to back out and Finnick knows it. He can't let Snow call him on his ruse without screwing himself over big time. He doesn't know what he'll do about the pregnancy situation- he sure as hell doesn't want to taint her himself- but something will come to him, something has to come to him, and even if he does wind up having to… to rape Katniss, because that's what it would be, it'd be better than what would happen to her otherwise, right? It would only be until she was pregnant- with his child- and then he'd be able to stop. To leave her alone and never touch her again.

Finnick's hesitation is unnoticeable, and his smile is unflappable when he says, "I wouldn't have bought myself a wife if I wasn't planning to use her."

Snow chuckles. "Of course not, Finnick. I just have to make sure of these things, you know."

"I understand, sir."

Snow gets to his feet just as Finnick does, and the two men shake hands.

"I hope you enjoy your new wife."

There's an innuendo in his voice and Finnick wants to throw up.

"I'm planning on it."

…

Katniss Everdeen is ready to break. Seeing Peeta die again during the recap was bad enough, but listening to Cato's speech almost pushed her over the edge. The rawness that was scrawled across every one of his features, that was infused into every word he spoke, made the moment so real that it was nearly impossible to keep from crying when he threw himself over the edge of the Cornucopia. Keeping herself together throughout her terrifying encounter with Snow was even harder.

By the time she was finished with the Victory Banquet, Katniss was shaking like a leaf. Haymitch and Effie had both disappeared over the course of the evening, but Cinna, who had thankfully stayed with her for the duration of the meal, offered to walk her across the City Circle and back to the Training Center.

It isn't a long walk. Cinna leaves Katniss in front of the elevator with a kiss on the forehead and a promise to see her tomorrow, and then he sets off for his Capitol apartment. The silence is deafening as Katniss watches him leave. Inside the too-large building, the usual din of the city is blocked by soundproof walls. It's a quiet that Katniss hasn't felt since her first days in the arena, and she's almost shocked by how much she hates it.

It makes her feel alone.

She is alone.

Several seconds pass in which Katniss stares at the elevator and tries to get rid of the icy feeling that's spreading through her chest. She tells herself that the penthouse is only moments away. Press the button, and she will be able to take a hot shower. She can turn on a Capitol soap opera to fill the terrible quiet with the banal chatter she'd only just been so desperate to escape.

Another moment ticks by, and then Katniss shakes off whatever trance she fell into. She presses the button and steps into the elevator, and it isn't twenty seconds later that she reaches her floor.

Katniss isn't even all the way out of the elevator before she senses that she isn't alone. She's always had a good sense for danger, made sharper by the Games, and whoever's on her floor is most definitely a threat. She can feel it.

Paranoid and defensive- rightfully so- Katniss slips out of her ridiculously high-heeled shoes and picks one up, holding it like a weapon. She has no doubt that the sharp point would be effective at disarming an intruder. Funnily enough, when Effie was trying to teach her how to walk in the dreadful inventions before the Games started, Katniss had spent an ample amount of time imagining all the different ways that high heels could be used to kill a person.

Every single one of those techniques runs through her head as she creeps into the sitting room, eyes flashing quickly back and forth.

She realizes that caution isn't necessary as soon as her eyes land on the figure that's taken over the couch.

Although his Games were years ago, it takes only seconds for Katniss to recognize that it's Finnick Odair who is, for some reason, draped seductively- it's really the only way she can describe it- across her couch. He may be a threat simply because he's Finnick, but right now it's obvious he's not intending to do her any physical harm. His head is propped up on one arm, and his legs are sprawled out in front of him, one taking up the length of the couch and the other dangling lazily over the side.

Over six feet of ridiculously handsome man all laid out in front of her, and Katniss doesn't stare for a moment. His presence is unsettling and she just watched a boy who she may or may not have been falling in love with die, so she really isn't interested in ogling a womanizer who has disgusted her for years.

"Finnick Odair?" Katniss asks, her voice devoid of emotion. She doesn't lower her shoe. Maybe he's not in any position to hurt her, but the fact that he's there at all has her on the defensive.

"You know, I had my doubts about all this." His voice is what Katniss would imagine a lion sounding like if it could talk; a low, soft purr that she can feel when he speaks. It's the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard. "But I'm starting to come around. You're the first woman I've seen who's managed to find a practical use for heels, and I've always appreciated sensibility."

Katniss stiffens.

Is he flirting?

"Is there a reason you're here?" Something he said rings in her head, and she adds, "And what do you mean, 'all this'?"

"Well..." Finnick swings his legs over the edge of the couch and gracefully maneuvers himself into a sitting position. Then, with an inviting smile and a look so erotic Katniss blushes, he gestures to his lap and says, "Both questions require rather lengthy answers. Maybe you should take a seat."

Katniss gapes like a fish. She can hardly believe he's real. Sure, she knows about his habits, has seen him appear in interviews and commercials with girl after girl, but somehow meeting him in person is an entirely different experience. Katniss realizes she never expected him to be as ridiculous as he has always been portrayed, when, if anything, the Capitol failed to capture the absurdity that is Finnick Odair.

"I'm fine where I'm at," she finally says.

Finnick shrugs lightly.

"You'll wish you'd have sat down."

"Please tell me what you're doing here."

With an exasperated sigh, Finnick leans further back into the couch and shakes his head. "Don't say I didn't warn you, Kat." She glowers, and he gives her a smile that reeks of irony. "This is even more unfortunate than I'd expected. I figured you'd at least be attracted to me, and here you are, looking at me like I'm Satan himself when I try to give you a pet name."

"What is unfortunate?"

"Our engagement," says Finnick.

Katniss snorts out a laugh. "Be serious."

Finnick's expression changes, his eyes losing their strangely friendly, playful shine, and he slowly says, "Katniss, I am serious." His tone of voice scares Katniss because it almost sounds like he believes he's telling the truth.

"Maybe you think so," Katniss says, but Finnick is standing up, already shaking his head at her words. "But I didn't agree to any engagement-"

"Haven't you figured it out, Katniss? Very few people in this world care if you agree to something." He takes a step closer to her, and Katniss, who's still holding her shoe, finds herself lifting it ridiculously in front of her. Finnick reaches out and pulls it out of her hands without so much as batting an eye.

"What are you talking about?" Her voice shakes just enough to betray her uneasiness. Finnick is invading her personal space, getting too close for comfort, especially when everything about him screams predator. Only her pride keeps her anchored in place, staring back at him as defiantly as she is able.

"I'm talking about the way things work. You're a smart girl. You know how powerful President Snow is, and I'm sure you wouldn't be surprised if I were tell you he has control over everything in Panem. Over everyone in Panem."

Katniss wants to argue, to somehow disprove what he's saying, but there aren't words for this and so she keeps her mouth shut and listens. Listens as Finnick continues speaking in his ridiculous voice, as his lips curve upwards into a strange, troubled smile that turns her blood to ice.

"He owns you, Katniss. He can do anything that he wants with you, and he will punish you if you try to resist." Finnick looks her straight in the eye, and Katniss realizes for the first time that, even though he his tone of voice is light, his eyes are dead serious. Everything he's saying has been true. "If it strikes his fancy, he can even sell you."

"You bought me." The accusation is all but spat at him. His posture stiffens and she swears that he's going to snap at her, but he stays calm, hands raised and eyes wide, almost like he's proclaiming innocence he doesn't have.

"Yes, I bought you," says Finnick, the purr now gone, replaced by careful tones similar to those Gale uses to calm wounded animals. Katniss opens her mouth, planning to call him every nasty, ugly name she can think of, to say that she refuses to have anything to do with someone like him, but Finnick rushes on before she can. "But trust me. It's better this way."

Katniss snorts in disbelief.

"Better this way? How in the hell is it better this way?"

Finnick only shakes his head. "You'll see." He pauses and stares at Katniss with piercing green eyes. "You are like Annie… she never liked me much either. Not right away. Maybe I'll grow on you, too."

Annie? Katniss thinks, but she doesn't care about a girl she doesn't know, no doubt one of the dozens Finnick has been with. She has more pressing issues to deal with.

"Finnick," says Katniss, "you can't buy me. You absolutely can't… I refuse to be bought."

"It doesn't work that way." Finnick smiles sadly. "Either I buy you, or someone else does."

"What?"

"Just be thankful," he says. "Please."

Katniss grits her teeth.

"Thankful? How am I supposed to be thankful?" She starts pacing, as if moving will help improve the situation. "I just won the Games. This should be over. Over! I should get to go back home to my family, and I should never, ever have to worry about any of this ever again. I can't be engaged. I won't… I can't get married."

"You have no choice, Katniss," Finnick says, and his voice would sound gentle- he isn't even purring- if it wasn't him. Katniss whirls around and faces him once more, and suddenly everything about Finnick Odair disgusts her. His eyes are too bright, his face fake and unrealistic in its angelic perfection. He hasn't shaved for several days, and the scruff almost anyone would deem attractive only makes him look brutish in Katniss's eyes. The suit pants he's got on are too tight and the green shirt he's wearing is unbuttoned almost halfway down, and the whole outfit does nothing but show off a body that, to Katniss, only screams used.

He's a filthy tool, and now he's saying she's going to have to deal with him for the rest of her life.

"I have no choice," says Katniss disgustedly. "What? Will you kill me if I say no?"

"I don't know what'll happen," says Finnick. "You'd be acting out against President Snow. Not me. Although I should warn you that he enjoys murdering loved ones."

Katniss's blood turns to ice.

"Is that a threat?"

Finnick looks genuinely troubled by this, even though Katniss knows there's no way he actually cares.

"It's a warning," he says. "I'm telling you to be careful and listen. You agree to this, and to the terms that Snow set for me, or your family is gone. That sister of yours you love so much? It's easy enough for Snow to get your loved ones into the Games, and, if it looks like they're in position to win, he has absolutely no trouble taking them out personally."

Katniss's hands starts shaking, and she wishes she has a bow. Finnick is one person she wouldn't hesitate to shoot. Right now, she hates him more than she ever hated Clove or Cato or even the boy who killed Rue. They were all thrown into the Games by circumstance… Finnick, though. Finnick has long been out of the arena, and he's still acting like he's playing a sick, twisted game. He won his fame, and he's abusing it in every way possible.

She wants to throw up.

Twenty three kids died so this monster could live.

This monster she must marry on threat of her sister's life.

"I… I have no choice," Katniss sputters, her entire face going pale as the realization hits her for the first time. It feels like a punch in the gut. Gale is going to be devastated. Her mother will be disappointed. Prim… Katniss doesn't even want to know what Prim will think when she learns that her sister is leaving her for him.

"You have no choice," Finnick confirms. Not victoriously, but matter-of-factly. He isn't being an asshole about any of this, not at all, and it almost makes it harder to hate him because of it.

Almost.

"But… couldn't you buy someone, anyone else? I can't… I'm a sixteen-year-old girl, and you could have anyone in the Capitol. Why pick the one girl who doesn't want you?"

"You remind me of her," says Finnick simply. The words are smooth and practiced, almost like lines from a play. Like he's been saying them in front of a mirror so he could recite them just right when he needed to. "I mentioned something about Snow's conditions," Finnick goes on before Katniss can speak. "We should go over those."

"But-"

"We'll get married when you come back to the Capitol for the Victory Tour, but Snow wants us to date before then. It'll make him more money if it looks like we're actually in love."

Katniss clutches at her stomach. In love. The words make her sick.

"I'll give you a week or so in District Twelve. Then I'll head over there."

"You can't come to District Twelve," says Katniss. District Twelve is hers. She doesn't want bad memories, bad people, tainting the place she loves.

"It'll be for business," Finnick goes on. "We'll meet incidentally. Our relationship will take off after that."

"Victors never travel outside their districts," argues Katniss. "No one will believe it."

"Victors travel. Just not generally to District Twelve. Besides, I'm me. They might twist my business trip into a secret plan to meet you face to face, but it won't be treated with suspicion. I'm sure some journalist will turn it into a romantic move on my part. We'll be fine."

Katniss stares.

"Maybe you'll be fine, but I can assure you I'll be anything but."

"You look tired, Katniss," says Finnick. "I bet you've had a long day. I should leave."

"You should talk to Snow and tell him you changed your mind, that you don't want me. I… I can't be bought. My family, Gale…"

"I don't want to change my mind," says Finnick." It's better this way."

"I… this can't…"

"I won't be able to see you off tomorrow. Like I said, we won't officially meet for another week or so. I just stopped by tonight to tell you about the situation. I figured it'd be best to hear it from me, rather than Haymitch or your escort."

"I rather would've Haymitch told me," Katniss grumbles.

"My apologies then. I figured I would be more delicate about it. I do need to go now. Bye, Katniss." Then he leans forward and gently kisses her on the cheek, and, before Katniss can say anything else, Finnick is gone.

She wants to hope that it was a dream, but the icy feeling in her gut is impossible to fake.

Funny, how she should be in the position that every girl in Panem would die for, and all she wants is a way out.

…

Author's Note-

Katniss/Finnick has always been an iffy pairing for me. There's the age gap for one, and honestly, The Hunger Games is the one fandom in which I actually agree with the cannon pairings. Finnick and Annie are inseparable, and Katniss/Peeta is really sweet. However, I also think Finnick and Katniss compliment each other very well, and the way they draw on each other for strength in Catching Fire and Mockingjay leads me to believe that, if Annie and Peeta were gone, it wouldn't be entirely unnatural for them to end up together. Besides, it's a rare ship and I love a good challenge.

That said, I'd love any kind of feedback on this. Comments, questions, criticisms, are all welcome. Thanks for reading, and I'll try to update again within the week.