TRIGGER WARNING: Talk of forced underage marriage. Allusion to forced/unwanted sexual encounters.

Author's note: You ready for some Finnick/Katniss time? There's sex in this one, but you won't have to read all of it. If you do want to read the whole thing, you can on AO3 (pen name is the same over there). I look forward to your thoughts.

I want to say a huge thank you to my beta LavenderVanilla who helped figure out a lot of the little things here. I know I say it every time, but her stuff is so worth the read.

Happy reading!

Chapter Two

The first year had been tough for Katniss and Finnick, always fighting and full of tension. It didn't help that the apartment they moved into was just a single room that possessed a bed barely big enough for the two of them and a kitchen table with chairs. There wasn't even a sofa or armchair. Katniss had insisted Finnick sleep on the floor for the first month until she grew tired of his morning complaints of an aching back.

His closeness on the bed every night only served as a reminder that Peeta should have been sharing her bed. And it made her angrier with every passing day. She took out her anger on Finnick, though they both knew it wasn't his fault. But he fought back just as hard as she did.

And the fight always came back to the same refrain. It usually happened after they ate supper and they were both exhausted from the long day.

"I'm sorry, Katniss, that I'm the wrong man." Finnick said. "If it was safe for any of us, I'd run as far away from you as I can get." He sat the last dish in the sink to be washed later.

"You know the perfect thing to say to make a woman feel special." Katniss grumbled, throwing her dishtowel onto the middle of the table.

He threw up his hands. "And how is it supposed to make me feel when every action you have toward me just reminds me that I fall a million miles short of your precious Peeta?" He started pacing like a wild animal. "Just the look on your face when you even glance my way—"

She stomped to the other side of the apartment. "Well, if I have to listen to you grumbling about how much you miss Annie any longer, I think I'll go mad." She began dressing for bed behind the curtain that separated the bed from the rest of the apartment.

Finnick stood just on the other side. She could hear him breathing heavily through his nose and saying something under his breath. Eventually he said, "And what do you expect me to do? I was taken away from everything and everyone I loved and forced to marry you."

Katniss took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She did it a second time, still full of pent-up rage. If she didn't calm herself down, she would take out her bow and shoot her husband. "It would be justified." She said softly.

"What would?" He snapped.

"Nothing." She pulled her nightgown over her head. "I'm covered." She climbed into the bed. "Goodnight, Finnick."

He sighed. "You never finish the fight, Katniss. Do you ever think about that?"

She didn't respond, just closed her eyes and tried to get to sleep. She heard him moving around the space as he readied himself for bed. When he got in beside her, he twisted this way and that until she finally snapped.

"For God's sake, Finnick!"

He went very still. "Sorry."

"You should be." She settled in once more and closed her eyes, but she felt his hand on her shoulder and her eyes snapped open. "What?"

Finnick loomed over her, his eyes glistened in the moonlight. "I really am sorry, Katniss. I know it's just as hard for you. And if you want to move home—"

"I can't. As much as I want to." She felt herself slowly relaxing. For all his bluster and fake wit, Finnick really was a sweet man. He was almost as good at consoling her as Peeta. Almost. She rolled away.

"Goodnight, Katniss."

She could feel his back pressed against hers. She never slept well when he was in the bed, but it was a little better than sleeping alone. She was so used to her sister's smaller form pressed into her chest and tucked under her chin. A few nights after she allowed Finnick back in the bed, she woke up with his head on her shoulder. She always pushed him away and bolted from the bed. After a while it stopped.

One morning Katniss awoke with her arm draped over Finnick's waist. She sat up quickly in the bed and glared down at him.

Finnick squinted up at her in confusion. "What did I do?"

"Nothing." She got out of the bed and quickly dressed, gathering her things to take her chance at the shared washroom on their floor.

He called, "Hey, happy anniversary, by the way."

She groaned. "Don't remind me." Thankfully she didn't have to wait in line. She closed the door hard behind her. She washed her face and looked into the small bit of polished metal that hung above the basin, examining the features of her slightly warped reflection. They had changed very little in a year, even though everything else had. One year older. One year married. One year without Peeta.

She braided her hair and gathered her things once more. She stepped out of the room and ran into Finnick's chest. She glared up into his green eyes looking down sleepily at her. He glanced over his shoulder at the line forming by their fellow tenants and then back to his wife, flashed a smirk, and then pressed his lips to hers.

Katniss resisted the urge to slap him as he lifted his head away. She slipped past him to their apartment and leaned against the door. She could hear the people outside whispering. She caught bits and pieces about how they were always fighting, but that their lovemaking must be silent since no one ever heard them.

One woman said, "A passion like that can't stay bottled up. It'll only explode."

Another commented, "I'd let him."

The other ladies giggled.

Katniss grumbled and went about making breakfast. She slammed a pan on the top of the small stove and was very satisfied to hear the yelp from just outside her door.

Finnick stepped into the room. "All those women out there keep staring at this door like you're about to storm out there with your bow."

"I slammed the pan on the stove a little more forcefully than intended." She cracked some eggs into a bowl and started beating them. "I was imagining it was your face."

"Everyone was watching." He argued as he sat down to pull on his boots. "Also, you are a horrible kisser."

"I didn't ask you to kiss me." She poured the eggs into the pan.

"No one needs to ask for a kiss from me. It should be an honor to have my lips pressed to yours." He sent her a wink and finished tying his laces.

"You know what? You can make your own breakfast if you keep talking like that." She said.

He laughed and walked up behind her. "You know, Katniss, you could use a little loosening up. When was the last time you met a climax?"

She whipped her head around. "Excuse me?"

"Today is our anniversary, after all." He winked. "I could make it extra special."

"I'm trying really hard not to punch you." She turned to the pan and vigorously stirred the eggs.

He traced the line of her hip and leaned close. "Come on, Katniss."

She shot her elbow backward quickly into his gut and he groaned, backing up several steps.

"You pack a mean punch." He said as he rubbed the point of impact. "And that, my dear wife, is called frustration."

Katniss placed the eggs on two plates and slapped a roll on each. She slammed one down in front of Finnick and took the opposite seat.

"I thought I was supposed to make my own." He said as he scooped a few of the wayward bits of food from the table and dropped them back onto the plate.

She shrugged. "You need your strength for the mines."

"I would have made my own breakfast. Your eggs are usually undercooked." He picked up the fork and ate quickly.

"Obviously not a problem." She rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised you haven't choked by now."

"You wish I would." He said softly.

She grinned and leaned forward. "That would be too easy."

He smirked. "You're poisoning me, aren't you? Slow and deliberate? Prim really likes me and would be upset if I stopped coming around."

"Prim will learn to get over it." She sat back and ate slowly.

Finnick looked down at his plate suspiciously and then back up at Katniss. "I'd hate to make someone so sweet cry over me."

"I'm sure plenty girls have cried over you." She said with a smirk as she finished her breakfast. She stood and started cleaning her plate and the pan in the wash basin in the corner.

He chuckled, but then his face fell. "Only one I care about."

"Annie." Katniss supplied for him.

He nodded.

"I don't cry..." She pointed out as she sat the pan back near the stove.

He gave her an appraising look. "I noticed."

She took the plate he held out and washed it. "If I did…"

"I know. Peeta." He leaned against the counter beside her. "How unfortunate for both of us."

She looked up at him as she dried her hands. "Do you want to…have your way with me?"

He looked over her face, his own puzzled. Slowly he said, "Only because I'm tired of trying to get it done myself in that tiny washroom with at least one person waiting outside."

She shook her head in disbelief, walking to the cabinet to get Finnick's lunch pail. She held it out. "I'll think about it. You better get your lunch together and go before you're late."

"You're such a loving wife, Katniss." He took the pail and started piling bread and some dried meats inside. "Anyone else would have packed this for me."

"How long have we been doing this, Finnick?"

"I just figured that since today was so special…"

She picked up the basket that held a few of her mother's concoctions and pulled out a vial. She dropped it into his pail.

"That the one that'll keep me awake?" He asked.

She nodded and returned to her basket. "I'll make sure to get you some more and have my mother make the one for your cough too."

"My cough?"

She nodded. "It's worse at night. My thoughts aren't the only thing keeping me up." She pulled her basket over her arm. "Don't bring me flowers."

He gave her a confused look.

"You're a romantic. And I didn't marry you because I wanted to. I did it because they made me. Don't try to make it anything more than that by bringing me flowers. Today is just another day." She walked out the door before he could say anything.

She sighed as she looked up at the lightening sky.

Finnick sidled up next to her. "Try not to think about me today."

Katniss glared at him. "It's going to be so hard for me."

"Well, whenever you want it, it will be." He winked and headed off toward the mines with the stream of workers leaving the nearby houses.

She set her feet toward her childhood home and let her mind wander back to the previous year when President Snow appeared in her family's parlor. People of their station didn't get such an honor, if it could be called that. President Snow only visited important Panem citizens and the Everdeens were far from it.

It wasn't much of a parlor, but her mother, Iris, kept it looking very proper for the size. And as small as it was, the president made it seem even more claustrophobic with his size and the way he sat in her father's chair. His white hair and beard were very tidy, as were his clothes. The heavy smell of roses hung in the air, far too much to come from the single flower on his lapel. He must bathe in it and have some rose essence on his clothes.

"Miss Katniss Everdeen." He greeted smoothly. "Lovely to meet you."

Katniss didn't like the sound of his voice. It was almost too perfect, like his appearance. "To what do we owe the pleasure, Mr. President?" She folded her hands in front of her and lowered her gaze. It was an affect she took on when she was a child and in the presence of someone of authority.

The man chuckled and leaned forward. "How would you like to be married, Miss Everdeen?"

Her head shot up and confusion filled her mind. "Married, sir?"

His smile gave her goosebumps. "We needn't go into much detail, but I need you to wed a young man. He should arrive today."

"I already have an intended." She argued.

"Peeta Mellark has moved on." He said. "As will you." He cut her off before she could say anything else. "Miss Everdeen, you will not refuse. You cannot. If you do not go along with this plan, dire things will happen." He looked over her shoulder and she followed his gaze.

Prim's portrait hung in a line with the rest of the family over the mantle.

"You have a beautiful family, Katniss. Your sister would be a lovely bride to someone foreign. Someone with a taste for very young girls. Perhaps…" His smile took a deranged turn. "Oh, I mustn't speak of such sordid things with a young lady. But if you do not marry the man I have intended for you, she will experience it. And she will be too far away for you to help her."

Katniss gave the man a hard look, but said, "Does this man have a name?"

"Finnick Odair." He grinned. "A fisherman from District Four. We will set up the wedding for the day he arrives." He unfolded himself from the armchair slowly.

"I want my family there." She demanded.

Snow turned at the door and nodded. "Why, Miss Everdeen, I would expect nothing less." He chortled and put his hat on as he walked through the door and to the waiting carriage.

Katniss turned to her sister's portrait. Prim's kind face would never line in worry or fear for her husband, Katniss promised herself.

Katniss stopped in front of her childhood home. Most days she and her mother would separate the teas and salves and poultices and make deliveries. But this was a preparation day.

Iris and Katniss worked steadily until the afternoon getting all the orders together and making extras to peddle the next day.

Katniss left just after Prim returned from school. Katniss so missed her sister and always lingered at the end of the day, though there was supper to start and something to be cleaned.

"I miss you, little duck." Katniss said as she wrapped her arms around her sister in a tight embrace. "You should stay with us sometime."

Prim looked up at her with anticipation. "Would Finnick mind?"

"I don't think so." Katniss kissed Prim's forehead and gave their mother a last wave before stepping into the tiny front yard. She looked off to the side, to the patch of dirt just to the right of the small porch. She and Prim had spent many warm days digging and making castles.

She sighed as she remembered her mother telling them of the time her parents had brought her to the sea where she'd built castles in the sand. Prim and Katniss had become obsessed with the beach after that and dreamed of visiting, making their own dwellings in the dirt, looking at picture books they could get from the school library, imagining their own future trip to the beach.

Katniss slowly made her way home thinking of her mother's tales of her childhood. She supposed she could ask Finnick about his home in District Four and get the same information, but every time she looked at him all she could think about was how much she'd lost.

At home, she scrubbed the floors angrily as she thought more about being saddled with Finnick.

"Loud." She grumbled, slapping the brush onto the floor. "Obnoxious." She scrubbed the spot in front of the door vigorously. "Everything's a damn joke!" She dipped the brush into the bucket once more and smacked it onto the floor. "How dare he even…" She groaned and threw the brush into the water.

She moved the bucket over and began the process again, cursing her husband the entire time.

Finnick stepped out into the fading daylight and stared at the yellows and oranges. He missed the way the colors danced on the horizon of the sea. Instead, he had to squint through the trees to get a good look.

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder and he looked over to see Gale Hawthorne, Katniss's friend. The man was the gruff sort and hard to read, but so cared for Katniss that Finnick grudgingly grew to like him.

"My wife reminded me…" Gale began. "Tell Katniss we're thinking about her."

Finnick nodded. "It's been tense."

The side of Gale's mouth lifted. "I was surprised you didn't have an arrow sticking out of your shoulder this morning."

Finnick chuckled. "I was, too." He stepped away from Gale. "Katniss would like you to visit soon. Perhaps for lunch Sunday."

Gale nodded. "I'll talk to Madge."

Finnick hurried home. He was hungry and hoped that Katniss had started the meal. He knew too well than to think that she would have prepared anything special. Today was just another day to both of them.

Still, there was part of him that wanted some marker of their anniversary.

He stepped through the door to the tiny apartment he and Katniss shared and stepped toward the stove where something was bubbling away.

"Stop right there." Katniss scolded.

Finnick halted. "I just walked inside."

"Covered in coal dust." She finished for him. "I just scrubbed the floor." She pulled a chair closer to the door and then placed a basin of water on it. "Very carefully remove your shoes and clothes and clean up." She walked back toward the stew and stirred it.

Gingerly, so as not to disturb the dust on his clothes too much, he removed them and placed them in a pile by the door. He stood there wearing only his drawers and watched Katniss. Slowly, he leaned over the basin and washed the bulk of the filth from his hair, face, and neck.

He lifted his head and caught Katniss eying him as the water dripped off his hair and over his shoulders and chest. "See something you like?" He asked, sauntering across the short space that separated them.

"No." She moved the pan off the stove and glared at him.

He placed his hands on her waist and stepped close. "You sure? Because I've been told I have a great form." He glanced down. "Yours isn't so bad either."

"Go away, Finnick." She said.

He pressed his hips into hers, met with all her layers. "I need your help with something first."

"Take care of it yourself." She stepped away from him and set the table.

"I told you already—"

"I can't, Finnick." She interrupted.

"Peeta isn't here." He argued gently.

"And what would Annie say?" She challenged.

He gritted his teeth. "I'm so tired of this, Katniss."

"You think you're tired?" She slammed the pot in the middle of the table. "This isn't what I wanted for my life."

"And you think it's what I wanted?" He advanced.

She put her hand on his chest to keep him from getting any closer. "What do you want, Finnick?"

He leaned in. "What do you want?"

"I want Peeta back, but it doesn't seem like that's a possibility. I don't even know where he is." She sighed and looked away, gathering her thoughts. She looked back up, an angry set to her face. She grabbed his shoulders and walked him backward until they stepped through the curtain that separated their bed from the rest of the room. She pushed him down on the bed and quickly disrobed, grumbling to herself.

"Don't look at me." She demanded, turning her back to finish the process. He could practically hear her heart beating.

Finnick stood and removed his drawers, pushed the blanket aside, and climbed into the bed just as Katniss turned around.

"There can't be a baby." She warned as she moved forward.

He nodded. "I know how to prevent it."

"So do I." She looked over his form. Her lip curled in contempt.

He pulled the blanket over his waist. "This isn't—"

"It is." She twisted her hands and looked at her clothes piled on the floor.

He pulled her onto the bed and rolled her beneath him. He leaned down to kiss her, but her hand flew up to cover his mouth.

"None of that." She switched places with him, holding his shoulders down with much more strength than he thought she had.

Finnick nodded. "So what then? You just going to sit there and stare at me?" He lifted his hand to touch her. Annie's skin was very light, despite the hours spent in the sun. She developed a slight tan, but it was still a few shades lighter than what Finnick was looking at now.

His hand slid up Katniss's side and she watched the slow progress without complaint. But then she took his hand and held it down at his side. "Stop it."

"Sorry." He said softly.

"Like hell you are." She ground out.

"What is your problem, Katniss?"

"All of it, Finnick. Just all of it."

He rolled her beneath him once more and hovered over her, examining her face. It was full of fear and uncertainty. The same thing he felt. "I know. I don't want to be here either."

"You could just imagine I'm Annie." She said softly.

Anger flared in him as he remembered all those nights he did imagine Annie when he was with people so much older and unsavory.

"Come on." She growled, squeezing his arms. "I want you to do it already."

"You sure?" He was hard and ready and just needed the release. All he needed was her assent.

She grabbed his hips. "Just go, Finnick."

That was all he needed.

Katniss rolled away and pressed her face into the pillow.

Finnick watched her a moment and then moved to the side of the bed. He rubbed his face. "It wasn't completely horrible was it? Please tell me it wasn't." He needed to know it wasn't as wrong as he felt. He was used to the wrongness of it, but this was somehow different.

When she didn't answer right away, he turned. He saw her eyes calculating. "What does it matter?" She asked.

"I guess it doesn't." He got up and found his discarded drawers. He stepped into them. "But you could at least talk a little bit. I just gave you all I had." He sent her a sensual smirk.

She groaned. "Go eat something." She pulled the blanket up to her shoulders and pressed her eyes into the pillow once more.

"I'll bring you a plate." He offered as he stepped through the curtain.

"Don't bother."

Finnick heaved a heavy sigh. "Katniss, I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize." Katniss snapped.

"You're not gonna cry, are you?" he asked, feeling very awkward.

She said nothing, but he could see her go very still. "Just leave me alone, Finnick. Eat your supper."

He watched her for a few more breaths before he walked away. He was the one who almost felt like crying. God, he missed Annie.