"When are you going to get tired, little girl?" Finnick asked his daughter from where he was flopped onto his back between the dining area and the living room. "And how does your mom keep up with you?"

Annie had been gone for hours, in town on the mainland spending time with Finnick's sister Shandra, sister-in-law Mara, and nieces Alona and Mairenn. A girls' day out, Shandra had called it, no boys allowed. When Finnick had pointed out that Maggie was a girl, too, Mara had added, "And no babies, either." Grinning, Finnick had accepted the baby when Annie passed her over to him, holding her up over his head before letting her drop into his arms, making her laugh. He was perfectly okay with baby-sitting duty; it gave him some alone time with his daughter.

"My daughter," he whispered, canting his head to watch her crawl – his view upside down – across the carpet toward the table. That was a phrase he'd stopped believing might apply to him a long time ago. He and Annie had had to keep their relationship a secret for so long, at first afraid of Snow finding out about them and then, once the bastard knew, still having to keep that secret to maintain the illusion of Finnick's anything-for-a-good-time persona. The thought of having a child back then had been terrifying.

Long before he met Annie, he'd already decided that he was never having any kids. He never wanted to give Snow someone else to use against him. And worse than that was the knowledge of what would happen if his child was either reaped or foolish enough to volunteer. Winning the Games was far worse than losing.

His back popped as he flattened out on the carpeted floor and he grimaced. He was only 26, but his two turns in the arena and the life he'd led in between hadn't done him any favors. Finnick rolled his head back again to watch Maggie cruise on her hands and knees across the floor toward the kitchen; he made a little growling sound deep in his throat and she abruptly stopped, teetering back and forth as she tried to hang onto her balance.

"Stay in here, Maggie." She looked over her shoulder at him reproachfully, reminding him so much of Annie that he laughed, ruining the stern image he was trying to portray. Maggie shifted at the sound, rolling a little until she sat on her diapered butt, grinning at him wide enough to show off all four of her teeth.

"But you don't have to worry about Reaping Day, do you, little one?" Still grinning, she slapped her hands on the floor and rolled to her knees again, almost bumping into a table leg. "Careful…" It had taken two brief but intense wars and a hell of a lot of grief and pain to do it, but they had finally broken the Capitol's power over the districts, broken Snow's power over them all. President Paylor was in office now, and unlike Snow, she governed from a position of trust rather than fear.

Maggie made a happy little gurgling sound as she crouched by his head, patting his face with her little hands. Finnick looked up into eyes as green as his own as his little girl gave him a sloppy, upside down kiss. A feeling of peace settled over him as it truly sank in that it was over. They'd won. Margreta Odair would never face the reaping ball or the arena.

Their daughter was safe in a way that he and Annie had never been.