Prompt: Can I give you a prompt ? Pretty please my friend ? I would like to read a story of yours - bookverse or movieverse - where Finnick survives in the end. So that Hayffie don't lose any of their kids. And because Finnick is a sunshine and i love him very much, and we will never have enough Finnick in this world.

I felt bad about WIRIP so I upped this one to the top of the to-publish list even if it's not the oldest by far.

Finnick's Devious Plan

"He is so beautiful…" Effie hummed when she felt the man's presence reentering the room. "I might just run away and steal him."

Behind her, Finnick laughed and she glanced at the young man over her shoulder to flash him a grin. It was quick though. Nothing could get her attention away from the newborn. Not the breathtaking view of the ocean through the living-room sliding doors of Finnick and Annie's house in Four's Victor Village nor the baby's father's twinkling sea green eyes…

She had arrived in Four two days earlier, after a couple of weeks of pleading on Finnick's part, and it had been love at first sight. She had seen the tiny baby boy in Annie's arms and she had been a goner.

"Trust me, you won't love him as much in a few days." Finnick teased. "After a few nights of not sleeping, you will change your tune."

Effie dismissed that with a careful half-shrug. "I do not sleep anyway."

It was more of a confession than she had intended to make but she ignored Four's victor's knowing look. There was a reason the young man had tried to get her to come to Four long before Annie gave birth. He wasn't convinced she was doing well by herself in the city – and she wasn't. She had refused to cave, had lied through her teeth about it, but, in the end, she hadn't been able to pass the chance of seeing their baby for long.

She didn't plan to stay more than a few days but Finnick had made it clear the guest room was hers for as long as she wanted it. She was tempted to take him up on it. At least for a while. Until she could decide what she wanted to do with the rest of her life because it was obvious a glamorous life in the city was out of the question now. Her modeling career was over and so was the Effie Trinket brand… She didn't have anything left.

"Yeah, we don't really sleep either so… That works out." the victor admitted, stepping closer to her to peer at his son over her shoulder. The baby was sound asleep and looked so peaceful… "It used to be nightmares about my Games or… the other stuff…" he continued quietly. "But it's Jo, nowadays."

Effie nodded once in acknowledgement. "We were never friends and I do not think we would ever have managed to truly get along but… When we were in the Capitol's cells together… We had… It was a connection."

He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, its warmth relieved the perpetual ache in it a little. Warmth always did.

She ought to go see a doctor probably, get a prescription to manage the pain… Despite the surgery and the hours of physical therapy, it had been established she would never get back the whole range of movement. She could barely lift her arm above her shoulder, never mind stretching it all the way up. The aching was expected too. She couldn't be bothered to take painkillers though. First because she didn't have the financial means to support what could become an addiction and then because the pain was so small, so manageable compared to what she had been through, it seemed trivial to complain.

"She saved my life, you know." Finnick sighed. "If she hadn't been on the squad… If she hadn't pushed me out of those sewers…" He shook his head. "It kills me to think I wouldn't have known my son… That Annie might have been forced to do this alone… That…" He reached around her and placed his free hand on the baby's tummy. "I love him so much, Effie… You have no idea."

She had a little idea because she loved Katniss and Peeta like that. At least she thought she did. A primitive sort of love that was born in her gut. There was nothing she wouldn't have done for them. Nothing. She couldn't have loved them more if she had birthed them.

Katniss never called or asked for news but Peeta was diligent about contacting her every week-end, like clockwork.

And every week-end like clockwork, she lied and laughed and pretended everything was fine when, in fact, she was drowning in a sea of her own demons.

"He is precious." she whispered, a familiar long buried yearning twisting her stomach.

She would have loved to have one of her own, once upon a time.

Not anymore.

And the yearning passed quickly but still…

The regret was there, she supposed, small and easily pushed aside, but there nonetheless.

"He is." Finnick squeezed her shoulder. "And he puts a lot of things back in perspective. He made me reevaluate so much stuff."

"Like what?" she asked, letting her blue eyes wander away from the baby in her arms and to the sliding glass doors. The weather was turning. The sky was becoming grey, charged with clouds… The ocean was rising and falling in big waves. The beach that stretched behind the house was deserted – not unexpected since it was a private stretch, once upon a time reserved for victors and now restricted to people living in the Village – summer having long died into a chilly fall.

"Like…" Finnick hesitated but, before he could answer, someone knocked on the front door.

"Finnick?" Annie called from upstairs.

"I'll get it!" he called back, squeezing Effie's shoulder again. He had a sheepish look on his face that made Effie frown. "Now, you're going to be a tiny bit angry with me but this is for your own good so remember you love me. You are far too stubborn. Both of you."

"Finnick…" she growled in warning because she could smell a social trap miles away and this reeked of one.

He disappeared down the corridor before she could stop him and, soon enough, there was the distant rumble of voices greeting each other.

Effie considered running but where was she going to go with a sleeping newborn in her arms?

Before she could make a decision, Finnick reappeared in the room, leading the way for…

Haymitch froze two steps in, clearly startled to find her there. His grey eyes stared at her face for a long moment before sweeping down and up again….

She was annoyed to feel her heart starting to race, too aware of what she looked like. Her curly hair was cut a little below her chin in a style he had never really liked on her, she was only wearing the bare minimum of make-up, the blue sundress and the white woolen cardigan didn't exactly scream sophisticated and she was barefoot because Annie preferred it that way in her house.

Of course, there was also the dark bags under her eyes and her still sunken cheeks to take into consideration.

In short, she didn't look like she had wanted to look the first time they would see each other again.

He, on the other hand, looked good enough. A bit thin, as if he wasn't really feeding himself properly either, his clothes showed signs of wear and she could tell at his eyes that he had downed a drink or two on the way to the house, but he was also tanned and his shoulders and arms looked…

He had been working out – or, more likely, helping with Twelve's rebuilding.

"Effie…" he hesitated, glancing at Finnick who buried his hands in his pocket and shifted his weight from his heels to his toes a few times, sheepish but unapologetic. "I didn't know you'd be here."

Obviously.

If he had known, he wouldn't have come.

And if she had known Finnick had invited him, she would never have come.

The last time they had seen each other, she had made it very clear she never wanted to see him again. She had slammed the door of her apartment in his face and…

When she didn't say anything, just stared at Haymitch like an idiot, Finnick cleared his throat. "Let me take him." She barely reacted when the young man relieved her from the comforting baby's weight and nudged her with a well placed elbow. "It's feeding time. I'll take him to Annie. It will give you two a chance to… talk."

He shot Haymitch a pointed look and disappeared.

Haymitch looked as uncomfortable as she felt. His eyes were roaming around, stopping on everything that wasn't her.

The tension in the room…

She couldn't take it.

She opened the sliding doors and escaped to the deck, immediately reaching for the packet of cigarettes she had abandoned on the table there. She lit one with shaky hands, not really surprised when she heard the door slide shut or when she felt his presence dwarfing her.

He was always so much bigger than her when she wasn't wearing heels…

She used to love it, how tiny it made her feel next to him, how easily he could have wrapped himself around her and kept her safe forever…

Maybe she still did a little.

"You want me to go?" he asked uncertainly. "That was shitty of the boy…"

"He means well." she retorted, taking a long drag of her cigarette. It went a long way into soothing her frayed nerves. She perched on the edge of the table and watched him.

"Maybe he means well, doesn't mean the little shit's got any business meddling." he grumbled, crossing the deck to lean against the woolen railing. He glanced up at the sky and made a face. "It's gonna rain soon. If you want me to go, you should tell me now. Don't really wanna trek back to the train station in a storm."

He was sulking a little.

She wished she didn't find it as endearing as she did.

"You haven't had a chance to properly see the baby yet." she countered.

His hands disappeared in his pockets. There was a tension in his shoulders that told her he wanted a drink. The situation was stressful for him, probably.

It was stressful for her too.

"You look good." she added before he could offer to leave again. She wasn't sure if she wanted him to leave.

She was pretty sure she wanted him to stay.

She had never been able to keep her distance from him, that had always been the problem.

He watched her, a bit wary, a touch awkward. "I'm… okay." She remained silent and he added after a little bit: "I've taken in some geese. Keeps me busy. Kids are good but you already know that…" He made a face, probably because he had just betrayed the fact he was very aware she talked to Peeta every week, likely asked the boy about her… Or was that wishful thinking? "I've been helping out some with the rebuilding… Peeta dragged me."

"That's good." She forced a smile. "You look good."

"Yeah…" He flashed her a tentative smirk. "You already said."

She felt the blush on her cheeks and averted her eyes to the ocean behind him. "What about… Have you met…"

"Come on." he scoffed but it wasn't irritated as much as fond. "You know better."

"Do I?" she challenged.

"I asked you to come with me." he replied – it was definitely irritated this time.

"Yes, because you felt guilty." she snapped.

"No, because I didn't want to leave you." He scowled. "I told you to come with me and when you said no I told you I'd wait. And now you're asking me all sweet like if I've found someone else like I was just looking for a woman to warm my bed? Like you ain't anything special to me? The fuck, sweetheart?"

"It has been months. I am simply asking…" she hissed.

"Well, don't." he cut her off. "I've said I'd wait and I've been waiting."

"I never said I would come. I told you…" she retorted.

"I know what you said." he dismissed. "But you're a stubborn bitch and I figure given enough time you'd calm down."

"Do not call me a bitch." she warned, hopping off the table and dropping the cigarette in the seashell that served as an ashtray to better whack his chest – a firmer chest than he used to have, working in construction did him a lot of good. "You are such a… Such a…"

"Asshole." he mocked. "That's the word you're looking for."

"Asshole!" she half-yelled, slapping his chest with her palm again.

He grabbed her wrist and, before she understood what happened, she was the one pinned to the railing and he was very much in her space. She could feel his breath against her lips.

"If you want me to go, tell me now." he growled again but it sounded pained.

"Asshole." she hissed again. He must have taken that as confirmation that she wanted him to leave because he flinched and started to move back…

She leaned in and crushed his lips under hers before he could totally retreat. He was back in seconds, his body warm against hers, his arm tight around her waist, his hand tangled in her hair…

She clung to his shoulders like a drowning woman.

She heard the sliding doors opening but she couldn't be bothered to care – or stop kissing him, not when his tongue pushed into her mouth and she felt like moaning.

"Told you it would work, baby boy." Finnick chuckled.

She drew back long enough to glare at the young man over Haymitch's shoulder.

Haymitch for his part, waved at the other victor to go, coaxing her into another kiss.

Finnick was still laughing in victory when he sauntered back inside, his son safely secured in his arms.