A/N: I think it would be an overstatement to say that this is a companion piece to When The Clock Strikes Midnight, but it does occur in the same universe and after the events of that story, though there are no really big spoilers. However, this story requires no knowledge of WTCSM to be understood. Was that clear? Kind of? Maybe? Okay, onward!
This story is rated M for heavily implied sex, including very mild bondage. In Chapter 2, it moves beyond 'implied,' but the first chapter can stand by itself as a complete story if you aren't interested.
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"And why do you think I'll be spending the evening with you?" she teased. Annie held two gowns up, briefly considering each in her full-length mirror before putting the navy one aside. The gray would match both her mask and her surprise for later far better.
"It is our anniversary. I thought you'd want to be together."
Annie frowned, a bit worried. "Dear, our anniversary is in April. This is October." She spoke slowly, as if talking to a small child.
Her husband shrugged. "But we met two years ago today," he explained. He laid back on their large bed and turned so he could watch her prepare for the evening's activities. Annie flushed a delicate shade of pink and smiled. What had she done right to deserve this man? She looked at him through the mirror, and when he noticed she was watching him, Finnick pouted his lips and widened his eyes pleadingly. "Please, Annie? I'll be lonely all by myself."
She couldn't help but grin. "You'll be fine, Finnick. I'm certain you can live through a few hours of separation."
"Absolutely certain?"
Annie rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, absolutely certain."
Finnick still didn't seem convinced. "And if we just so happen to see each other there, will you stay with me for the rest of the night?"
She started to nod, but then a thought came to her. "You'll just have to see, won't you?" she said, her voice low and sensuous. Finnick's eyebrows rose at the change in Annie's demeanor, and she felt a delicious surge of power. She strode over to him and traced the contours of his chest with her fingers as she spoke. "Depends if I find someone prettier." She licked her lips, and his green eyes widened with arousal.
"Someone prettier?" he scoffed. "You wound me."
Annie laughed at his comically sour expression and pressed a kiss to his lips, but when he wrapped his arms around her and tried to bring her closer, she pushed him away. "Again, you'll live. If you're lucky, there will be plenty of time for that later. Now, shoo. I don't want to see your pretty face again before the ball. Oh, and Finnick? Please have Flavius come here. I'm going to need some help with my hair."
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Finnick smiled as he stepped into the ballroom. This event held special memories for him, and since Annie had not felt well enough to attend last year, it would be their first masquerade as a married couple. He couldn't wait to see what surprises she held in store for him tonight. Finnick scanned the crowd, but saw no hint of Annie. Almost an hour of searching later, he concluded that she must be hiding from him. At that thought, he grinned wolfishly. Finnick would not be bested at this game. He would find her; of that, she could be certain.
He wished he'd paid closer attention to her clothing as she was getting ready for the ball, but the sight of her hair, let loose from its usual constricting bun, had enchanted him, and Finnick couldn't recall a single detail of her gown. In the swarm of handsomely dressed, masked people, a woman of average height could easily disappear. It was time to admit defeat.
But wait. Finnick caught a flash of dark hair, and he saw a young woman in a gorgeous green gown, her face covered with a golden and emerald mask. Annie. He began to maneuver his way through the crowd towards her. The woman took his hand when he asked for a dance, and he led her to the dance floor. They waltzed in time to the music, one of his hands resting on her waist as they swayed together. She rested her head on his shoulder, and his hands began to wander away from her waist and up her sides, gently rubbing the soft skin of her arms and neck before creeping closer to her breasts. Finnick doubted anyone was watching them, and even if they were, it would be difficult to identify any specific individual beneath their masks. Both of their reputations would be safe from the kind of ire that participating in this type of play in public would generally inspire.
She moaned in pleasure, and Finnick's thumb reached the underside of her breast.
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Flavius was a genius when it came to hair, and, as he assured her, one cannot rush genius. He lived up to his word; she looked fabulous, but only after an eternity of brushing, braiding, and pinning. By the time Annie was finally ready, the ball had long since begun. She quickly checked her appearance in the mirror before hurrying to the ballroom.
For the masquerade, the crystal chandeliers had been lit, and they cast a warm glow across the vast chamber. The upper crust of Panem swirled together in a dizzying sea or colors and laughter. Annie spotted gowns and masks in every color she knew and several she didn't. She felt somewhat out of place in the crowd, lost in the drinking, dancing, and merriment, but she pushed through the throngs of people, intent on finding one particular individual.
Finnick stood a good five or six inches taller than the average man, so he wasn't hard to spot. Annie caught a glimpse of his bronze hair and broad shoulders in the middle of the dance floor. She started to move towards her husband, but what she saw made the blood in her veins run cold.
What did he think he was doing? Annie seethed as she watched as her husband's hands wandered over the other woman's body, pausing dangerously close to her breasts. One inch further, and you're a dead man, Odair. You can't hide behind that mask forever.
She forced her way through the crowd towards the pair.
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Finnick kissed the top of the woman's head, and she giggled. Oh, no. That sound was too high, too tinny to be Annie's. He pulled away from the woman and looked down into her eyes. Brown, not green. This is not good. This is very not good.
He saw disappointment in the woman's eyes, but still Finnick backed away. "I'm sorry, I seem to have come down with a headache," he said, searching for any excuse to get away before Annie spotted him. "It's been a pleasure."
"A pleasure," she agreed, curtsying before disappearing into the crowd.
Finnick breathed a sigh of relief and started for the door. He needed a minute to compose himself. No such luck. A very angry Annie was storming towards him, ready to unleash her fury right there in the middle of the ballroom. Surrender was his only option. He raised his hands in defeat and allowed his very real regret to show on his face as he walked towards her. "I know I'm in trouble, but can we talk about this somewhere else?" he asked. "I don't want to cause a scene."
"Yes, I think you've done quite enough of that for the evening," Annie replied coldly. He followed her into the hall. "What did you think you were doing?" she hissed.
He looked down at his shoes, then thought better of it and stared into her eyes. "I'm sorry, Annie. I wasn't trying to."
She peeled off her mask, and Finnick could see the incredulity written all over her face. "That's your excuse, then? That you're so ignorant of female anatomy that you had no idea that you were touching her breasts?"
"No, that's not what I meant! I thought she was you." He wished that a hole in the floor would open and swallow him up. Surely that would be better than this interrogation.
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She snorted. Only Finnick. Her husband looked like a poor, dejected puppy, his green eyes wide with regret. Annie kept her expression neutral, but inside, she was smiling. Just perhaps, the plan she had in store for him this evening would work even better after his little indiscretion. She thought of the silk ties she had stowed in the drawer of her bedside table and barely stopped herself from licking her lips in anticipation. Yes, this could work quite well indeed.
Annie forced her attention back to the present. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, pushing up her breasts slightly as if on accident, and smirked as Finnick did his best to keep his eyes on her face. "You can't tell the difference between your wife and some woman you've never met before?" she asked.
He nodded in silence.
"We'll talk about this later." She walked back to the ballroom, and Finnick trudged dutifully behind her.
The rest of the evening, her husband was wonderfully attentive. He stayed close to her side, fetching refreshments whenever she indicated that she was hungry or thirsty, and asked every few minutes if there was anything he could do for her. A part of her felt terrible for allowing him to feel so guilty even though she was no longer angry, but Annie knew he would enjoy what was to come.
Finally, it was time to go back to their chambers. They walked together in silence, the only sound that of her high heels clicking against the cold, stone floors. Annie led Finnick into their bedroom and shut the door behind him. "Strip," she ordered.
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Surely he'd misheard her? Finnick replayed her words in his head, but they remained the same. He stepped out of his clothing and turned to face her. Nude, with not even a stitch of clothing to hide behind, Finnick felt as though he was entirely under her control. The sensation was wonderful, and Finnick felt his arousal beginning to swell. "I am sorry," he said, looking into her eyes.
"Yes, I know," Annie answered. She stepped towards him and lifted herself up onto her tiptoes so that she could whisper in his ear, "Tell me if you want me to stop, or if something hurts."
He looked at her questioningly, but she did not explain. "I think you've been a very naughty boy," she said, and from her nightstand, she withdrew a half dozen gray silk ties. Finnick gasped in understanding. He met her eyes and nodded, then put out his hands for her to bind together.
"I have been terribly wicked," he agreed as she finished the knot. "Whatever will you do with me?"
She smiled. "I have a few ideas. First, of course, I don't want to hear any more excuses out of that mouth." Annie used one of the ties to gag him, and when she looked into his eyes to check that it was all right, he nodded. "And I'm not sure you deserve to see me either," she said as she used another piece of silk to blindfold him. Annie led him to the bed, where he laid down on his back. "Yes, I do believe that's a good beginning for your punishment."
Finnick grinned around his gag as he heard her taking off her gown and underclothes. Somehow, he doubted this was going to be much of a punishment at all.
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A/N: Thanks for reading! This was written for the Caesar's Palace monthly oneshot challenge using the prompt 'something wicked this way comes,' and the title comes from a gorgeous Verdi opera. As always, any feedback is much appreciated. Thanks!
~finnicko-loves-anniec
