**The 70th Annual Hunger Games**
They had gone to a tiny basement bar, a place that needed a password and a hefty cover before they could get in. Inside were a bunch of people who almost looked normal. No one was surgically altered, very few wore wigs, and the clothes were more what he'd expect to see in District 1 or 2, than on the high streets of the Capitol. It was clearly a workman's bar. A lot of Avox slaves, but not standing around serving, they were sitting around, drinking. Peacekeepers, who didn't enjoy such an elevated status in the Capitol as they did in the districts. House cleaners and nannies.
How had Finnick found this place? Only those able to bid ridiculous prices could afford him, not these (nearly) regular people.
Finnick ordered their drinks and steered them toward a deserted, dark corner.
"We have a mutual friend," he said.
Haymitch had chuckled. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Mags."
Haymitch held out his glass. "To Mags."
They clinked and drank.
Finnick tried again. "You ever notice anything funny about the Justice Building in the footage of District 13?"
Haymitch looked around quickly. Was this guy out of his mind? No one was listening, and he guessed these people didn't have enough power to be a sufficient threat to the Capitol. But you never, ever assumed you weren't watched, overheard.
"Let's get another drink and go for a walk. A nighttime stroll by the river."
Finnick grinned, downed his drink, and went to grab two more. Haymitch finished his swiftly, and was ready for his second when Finnick returned. They drank and talked about the Games. Both his kids were dead, one of Finnick's was alive.
When they finished, they left, and walked down to the river.
"What the hell are you trying to do?" he asked.
"I already know. I want to be in on it."
"How do you know and not be in on it? And who's to say there's anything to be in on? Our mutual friend has been around a long time, and hardly anybody knows her."
Finnick had laughed. "There's something to know. You know Heavensbee? I met him at a party, we got to talking, and he said I should talk to you."
"Jesus."
"Come to my place. Let's have another drink."
"Your place will be all bugged to shit."
"Who says we'll be talking?"
Haymitch could feel himself blush. He had to remind himself that Finnick made people believe he was attracted to them all the time, that it must be second nature to him now to get what he wants. That he himself was 36, and Finnick was 19, and Snow's favorite gift to give for the last three years.
"I guess we'll be drinking, right?"
"Sure. Of course."
Finnick was very quiet as they rode in a taxi to his flat.
"You worried about your girl?" Haymitch asked, once they had exited the taxi.
"Yeah," he said. "She's been hiding in the same spot way too long."
Haymitch didn't say anything as they walked up the steps to Finnick's flat. He had never seen it before. When Haymitch had been younger, a victor out of 2, Rendwick, had had a place paid for by the Capitol. She had hung herself in it. Killed herself and some Capitol scum's baby. The pregnancy test was still on the counter in the bathroom. She had been very pretty.
He had tried to banish Rendwick from his mind as he entered Finnick's apartment.
He whistled. "Nice digs, District Four."
Finnick looked confused. "Digs?" he asked, pulling off his coat and hanging it on a rack. He held his hand out for Haymitch's canvas jacket.
"Your place."
"Oh." He smiled. "Yes. Nicest place I've ever lived."
Haymitch followed him to a small, but intricately decorated living room. Small water fountains sat on different reflective surfaces. A giant seascape painting dominated one wall. The furniture was all in the shades of the ocean: blue-gray, turquoise, cerulean. The carpet was white and light, light blue, in a pattern that seemed to suggest sea foam.
You must feel right at home," he said, sitting on a sofa facing the seascape.
Finnick just shook his head. He poured them each a glass of wine and sat down next to him. They clinked glasses and drank.
"To your girl," he said, holding the glass up.
"And to all your kids," said Finnick, holding his up too.
They drank again.
"I can't believe you've been doing this for 20 years. How do you do it?" He turned those green eyes on him and Haymitch felt his face fall into a scowl.
"Look at me. Does it look like I'm doing this well?"
Finnick looked away.
"I never want to see a child die again," he muttered. No doubt the Capitol was recording or watching, but Haymitch figured they would be all right as long as Finnick wasn't saying this shit to his Capitol guests. He seemed too smart for that.
"I know," he said, putting a hand on Finnick's shoulder. He didn't say anything else. There was nothing else to say.
Finnick set his wine glass on a little table next to him. He had looked at Haymitch then with such a strange look in his eyes.
**Present Day**
It was the same look Peeta had had when he had kissed him.
Haymitch finishes his shower and towels off. He keeps the bathroom light on so his room is softly lit. He lays down on the bed naked, a little clammy.