This is a late Christmas present. I love you all! I hope all of you who celebrate Christmas had a nice day, and those of you who don't, hopefully you had a nice day, too :)

There is a surprise implied-ship (as well as Odesta ofc) in this. I have no idea where it came from it just sort of... happened... Still, I think it's a sweet idea, so I'm going to keep it there. This is probably going to go the same way as Cineca in that I start of like "Aw, that would be a sweet ship. Very interesting." and then become a hardcore shipper by accident.

Prompt: Annie and her son celebrate their first Christmas together without Finnick :(

Finnick had always loved Christmas. He'd appear on Annie's doorstep in Victor's Village at half past six in the morning every year, a lop-sided Santa hat upon his head and a snowy white beard hanging around his neck (the elastic had loosened long ago, and he hadn't wanted to replace it "for old times' sake"). In his hand would be a sack full of presents, and Annie would stand there in the doorway, still wearing her pyjamas, and yawn at him.

"Ho, ho, ho!" Finnick would say. "Merry Christmas!"

She'd let him in, start the fire burning in the living room, and head upstairs to get dressed while Finnick arranged the presents beneath the tree. She'd bring down several gifts of her own to add to his plethora, and always feel bad that there were never as many for him as there were for her.

"It's fine," Finnick would assure her every year. "You always give the best presents. I give people loads because I'm never sure what they'll like. But you, you might only give me a couple, but they're things I really want."

They'd wait for Mags to arrive before they did anything else, flicking the tv on and snuggling up together on the sofa, watching cheesy Christmas movie after Christmas movie to pass the time.

Mags would show up with a box of home-made mince pies. One year, she even brought over gingerbread versions of themselves, and Finnick commented on how his miniature was "realistically gorgeous" and Annie thanked her for the sentiment, and hugged her close, and felt incredibly guilty for eating it as it looked so... alive.

They'd open their presents together. Finnick always gave the most gifts, as well as the most expensive- bottles of perfume, golden jewellery studded with diamonds, dresses made from real silk, champagne. Annie's, by contrast, were always things she'd picked up in District 4- bracelets she'd made out of sea shells and string, little trinkets she'd found in the market place. Mags' gifts differed every year. Sometimes it would be a homemade scarf and a soft little teddy bear, other years it was bars of chocolate the length of Annie's arm, and three times as thick.

But this Christmas, for the first time in years she isn't awoken by the buzz of the doorbell at six, and is instead awoken by the sun streaming through her curtains at nine am.

She pops into baby Nerio's room and, finding him already awake, picks him up out of his cot.

"Shall we go see what Santa got for you?" She asks. Nerio babbles happily and proceeds to wrap a lock of Annie's hair around one of his pudgy hands. She takes that as a yes.

Downstairs, beneath the tree, several presents lie waiting for Nerio. She sets him down on the carpet, grabbing the first of the gifts and shaking it in front of him.

"What's this?" She says, feigning genuine confusion; she wrapped it, so of course she knows what it is. The present rattles, capturing her son's interest. He reaches forward, trying to grab it. "What's this, Nerio?"

He continues trying to reach for it. Annie helps him pull the paper off of it, doing most of the work herself and trying desperately to stop him from putting cello-tape in his mouth.

She gasps once they've unwrapped it fully, as though the content of the parcel is a tremendous surprise.

Shaking the new rattle in front of Nerio, she lets him take it from her and lunges to grab the next of his presents.

There's nothing for her this year, but then that's okay. Hearing her son's delighted giggle, seeing him smile, is present enough for her. If she tries hard enough, she can even kid herself that Finnick is upstairs in bed, or in the kitchen cooking the Christmas dinner.

Leaving Nerio with his new gifts, Annie pops into the kitchen to get dinner started. Peeta had sent her down several baby-friendly recipes at the start of December, and she gets started on the easiest-looking of those. She's never been much of a cook, and she wants her baby boy to enjoy his first Christmas.

Nerio's lunch is in the microwave when the doorbell sounds.

Confused, Annie unties her apron and tosses it onto the sofa, checking on Nerio quickly before going to answer the door.

Johanna and Delly stand on the doorstep. Delly's hair is in braids, tied at the ends with festive red and green ribbon. Johanna has a Santa hat pulled over her short crop of hair (somehow, Annie doubts it was her idea), and a pile of presents in her arms.

"Trick or treat," She says with a grin.

Delly elbows her pointedly.

"Ow!" Johanna shoots her a glare, though it doesn't last long. "Can we come in?"

Annie steps aside, still confused, and allows the pair to enter her house.

They head straight for the living room, where Johanna is quick to deposit their presents beneath the tree. Delly makes a beeline for Nerio, lifting him up and away from his new building blocks and spinning him around.

"My goodness, you've grown!" She tells him. Nerio laughs and babbles out something incoherent. "You're going to be a giant when you're older, you are!"

"A sexy giant," Johanna adds, watching the entire exchange from beside the Christmas tree. "He has his dad's eyes and his mum's hair; it's a combination most people would kill for."

Annie smiles proudly. Johanna makes eye contact with her across the living room.

"Are you okay?" She mouths. Annie nods, because strangely enough, she is.

The microwave beeps, signalling that Nerio's lunch is ready.

"You haven't been making Christmas lunch in the microwave!" Johanna scolds.

"Just Nerio's!" Annie quickly defends her actions. "I was going to make myself a turkey sandwich or something."

Delly ceases bouncing Nerio up and down on her hip so that she can turn to face his mother, disbelief upon her face. "It's lucky we came!"

Without another word, she hands the baby to Annie and grabs Johanna's hand, dragging her into the kitchen.

Though Johanna would never admit to it, her cooking skills are exceptional, and so Annie doesn't complain. Instead, she helps her son build a tower of blocks and knock it down, over and over, until Delly pops her head around the door and says lunch is ready.

Annie insists that Delly and Johanna stay the night, letting them borrow the guest room under the promise that they won't do anything inappropriate, considering that Nerio's room is just the other side of the wall.

That night, with everyone else tucked up safely in bed, Annie opens the front door and heads out.

It's only a short walk to the beach, and of all the places in the world it is here that she feels closest to Finnick.

It had been a good Christmas, she thinks. Different, yes, but still good.

Annie's feet take her automatically to the secluded patch of beach that she always used to share with Finnick, hidden from view for everyone except those who knew it existed. Her bare feet are well-used to climbing cliffs and walking on hard pebbles, and she reaches the beach in no time at all.

Closing her eyes, Annie lets the wind tousle her hair, make her dressing gown fly all around her like a cape.

When she opens her eyes, it's because something dripping wet is rubbing against the bare skin of her ankle.

There, in the darkness, she can just about pick out the shape of a puppy. Its fur is plastered against its body, and it's shivering with cold.

Annie had never really believed in fate, but it was something Finnick had always been adamant about, and when faced with something like this, she found herself wondering if maybe he had been onto something.

Picking the soaking wet puppy up off the floor, she searches around his neck for a collar. Indeed, there is a leather strap around his neck, but no metal medallion stating his name or address.

How strange.

She does, however, find a piece of paper tucked into the gap between dog and leather.

Taking it out, she sets the puppy back down by her feet and unfolds the wet piece of paper. It's dark, yes, but she can just about make out the words by moonlight:

"Hello,

My name is Seamus. My daddy couldn't look after me anymore :( Please give me a nice new home. I'll be good. I am house-trained and great with children, and I already know commands like sit and stay. I just need somebody to love me. Please, Annie Odair."

Right up until the last line, she'd found the note sweet, but those final three words... This can't be coincidence.

She isn't sure what it is. She isn't sure she wants to know. Still, whatever it is, she doesn't feel as though she has much of a choice. She can't just leave this puppy here on the beach, shivering and cold, especially not on Christmas.

As she carries Seamus back home, she lets herself wonder if maybe, just maybe, it was Finnick. He'd always wanted a puppy, and writing something from the dog's point of view is exactly the mad sort of thing she could see him doing.

She dismisses the idea almost immediately. Finnick is dead. He can't leave presents.

Joelly?