thank you to suk-fong for the beta work :) Warning: attempted suicide mentioned

"If another customer doesn't come in soon, I think I'mma freakin' lose it," Johanna throws her head into her arms and softly thumps it against the wooden bar top.

Annie knows her friend's been at this job for too long to not find something to do during their dry spells but while she cleans and Peeta bakes fresh goods there isn't much left for Johanna to do. Her friend could ask the elderly couple sitting in the furthest corner of the restaurant if they want a refill for the umpteenth time, but Johanna decides against it; something about not wanting to get a pair of dentures thrown at her head.

"What're we then, chop liver?" Haymitch Abernathy retorts with his usual degree of snark bringing Johanna to bolt upright as the chimes toll from the door. "Though, you might be. Certainly look it."

"Shut up. And you're a regular customer to the point where I might almost let you start serving yourself," Johanna sighs, pushing herself off the counter and swivels around to start grinding beans for a fresh cup of Columbian roast. "Or at least Odair's secretary. He comes in here at least four times a day for the guy alone. That much coffee might kill him."

Annie can't help but laugh at the thought of it; it's just so absurd, death by coffee. At least before the heart attack the person would be enjoying the last drink they'll ever taste.

"I wish it would," a much quieter and much more tired voice floats in from behind Haymitch as he sits down at the counter top, on their cushioned bar chairs. An unmistakable mop of gelled (or greasy, Annie can't tell) bronze hair draws her attention up to the stormy green eyes and the dark smile that rests on Finnick Odair's sullen face.

In the many months since he's walked into their establishment, despite it being on the main floor of the Reitz & Odair Insurance office building, he looks far worse for wear than after one of those long nights where he'd be at this very counter knocking back amaretto sours like they're lemonade. His eyes rim with the deepest, darkest crow's feet Annie has ever seen and his shirt, wrinkled and unbuttoned halfway down his chest. No tie or blazer anywhere in his vicinity. There is no doubt about it that he's a hot mess.

Neither Annie nor Haymitch miss Finnick's quiet words, both glancing at each other; Haymitch with a much darker glint in his gray eyes.

"I don't think it'll be worth it," Haymitch mumbles back just as Johanna turns around to give him his coffee. She nearly drops the mug when she comes nose to nose with Finnick.

"Fuck, how long have you been there?"

Finnick smiles, ignoring her. "I think it would. If I were dead - hell, if we were all dead- Cashmere would finally get the Board of Directors decisions to tip in her favour."

"Boy, that's not how that'll end up working…Gloss' still on our side about the merger." Haymitch pushes himself from the counter, whipping around to face Finnick whose lifeless eyes remain fixed on a spot above Johanna's head. "Frosty the Snow Bitch won't budge as long as Gloss is against it!"

"Doesn't matter," Finnick mumbles, running his hands through his hair as he stumbles onto his feet making at staggered beeline to the door. "Doesn't matter, Cash always gets what she wants anyways."

"Finnick!" Haymitch calls aggressively but the young CEO is out the door and back into the luxurious lobby rushing up to the elevator leaving the CFO's efforts in vain.

Annie watches as he grasps for the clean, porcelain mugs sitting on the back counter drying and quickly snatches it out of his reach. She's not in the mood to be cleaning up after one of Haymitch's glass breaking therapy sessions.

"He isn't getting better, is he?" Johanna asks as she pours the steaming black liquid into the disposal cups, dousing one steaming cup with sugar and cream.

"Considering Cinna and I have to remind him to eat, sleep and take his meds I'd say better is a long way from where he's at." Haymitch grabs the cups from her hands and slides off the stool. "It'd be nice though…"

"Do you think...some time off would help?" Annie asks before she realizes she's spoken.

"That's what Cashmere wants, which makes the office the best and worst place for him," Haymitch grumbles as he makes his way to the doors.

"Hey! Aren't you gonna pay for those," Johanna screeches, bringing a smirk to the CFO's lips as he walks out of the glass doors and into the lobby. They know he'll be back, and if not him, Finnick's secretary Cinna.

The men at R&O are always good for their word.

If she hadn't left for the train four minutes early Annie is sure she would have never crossed paths with him today. Peeta doesn't accompany her to Dr. Aurelius' office on this Wednesday afternoon. So, she settles for sitting with a crossword puzzle in her hands facing the door.

Just as Annie completes the penultimate four letter clue, the doors of the cozy waiting room swing open and crash against the walls making her pen fly across the newsprint. In rushes two of the New York City's finest police officers ushering along a stunning yet bedraggled young man. His wild, sea green eyes and skewed bronze hair distract from the old v-neck, his pair of holey jeans and the bandage wound loosely around his neck.

Through the pounding of her heart and churning stomach, Annie can't decide whether or not it's appropriate to smile that it's Finnick Odair that sits before her.

As of six weeks ago, everyone now knows his story, unfortunately.

At the ripe age of fourteen his father Troy Odair, a partner of Reitz & Odair Insurance, died in a plane accident on his way back to New York from Miami leaving not only the company but his family in shambles. Two years later, his mother killed herself, saying in her suicide note how she could no longer handle the loss of her husband.

From then, Finnick went from being the tall, quiet young man who stood in his father's enormous shadow to being a boisterous, charming, womanizer as he worked his way through the bachelors and masters degree in commerce at the University of Miami. At the age of twenty-two, not even a month after graduation, he was thrust into the big, black leather chair of his father's office at the R&O Insurance building where he's worked the last six years until the CFO, Haymitch Abernathy, found him dangling from a noose not two minutes after Finnick jumped from his desk.

While his life has always been a flash of cameras and falsified smiles, since his attempt at suicide six weeks ago it feels like it's been twice as much. The news stations run the Odair story almost as much as they ran the story about the President allegedly poisoning a third of his cabinet members. Always with a new speculation, always with a connection to his mother, always with "What would Troy Odair do?"

When their eyes lock, he cocks a lopsided grin bringing Annie's gaze down onto her shoes and a rosy tint to her cheeks. Finnick takes the seat across from her upon instruction by the officers before they chat animatedly with the receptionist. Resting his head against the plush backing of the chair and turning his chin up to the ceiling, he closes his eyes. The bandage parting to reveal the puckered red ring around his neck.

"It's nice to finally see a friendly face," Finnick says, words coming up his throat like nails on a chalkboard. Her gasp seems to catch even more of his attention as those wild eyes come to focus on her.

"Um...yeah." Annie draws her eyes back down to her hands, wringing them around each other four times.

"You're not happy to see me," He inquires slowly, voice quirking with a tinge of sadness.

"That's not it, I'm thrilled to see you! I'm glad you're here, it's just…"

"Just…?" He eggs her on.

"A-are you gonna take some time off to … regroup?" Her nerves get the better of her and all Annie wants to do now is run but she's trapped. With Finnick sitting beside the door he can easily step in her way.

"I think the last month was enough time. My doctors are telling me otherwise but they don't have multibillion dollar companies to run," Finnick smiles cheekly.

"Though, until my larynx and pharynx heal, if they heal at all, I have an excuse to keep silent during meetings. So, it'll be like a working vacation," his haggard chuckle has Annie sitting at the edge of her seat and the officers turning around in alarm.

"Doesn't it hurt to talk to me then?"

Finnick shrugs with too much nonchalance. "Gotta say though, the seventy-two hours under surveillance could have gone better. If I wasn't in so much pain, I may have finally gotten to sleep for the first time that week."

"You still haven't been sleeping?!" Annie exclaims with alarm. She can't imagine what it would be like to not sleep for a week. Not anymore at least, not since she moved in with Johanna and Peeta.

"Haven't you heard, sleep is for the dead." His grin is wolfish as he trails his gaze back up to the ceiling. However, the grin cracks as bright red blotches rim around his eyes and form along the apples in his cheeks.

"Yes, but I don't think that's something to be taking literally. The body needs sleep, it doesn't function without oxygen, water or rest." Annie knows it isn't her place to say but she is tired of listening to the limitless excuses that float around Finnick's life.

"How long have you been visiting Doc anyways?" Finnick smiles more genuinely as he stares straight at her, his eyes no longer murky with anxiety.

"That's not really important, is it?" Annie is more curt that she intends to be.

"Considering you know something about me, it's only fair I know something about you other than your name."

Through the gruff, raspiness of his torn vocal chords Finnick Odair's words still roll from his mangled tongue like silk from a loom. And those long, coppery lashes of his bat like the wings of a hummingbird. The familiarity almost enraptures her, but Annie remains poised in her seat.

Parting her lips to claim once again how unimportant it is that he know anything about her, a hand falls on her shoulder and squeezes. She startles, almost falling from her seat, and whips her long, dark brown hair around to come face-to-face with Dr. Aurelius himself.

"My apologies, Annie. Are you ready?" Dr. Aurelius is like the evening tide rolling in over your feet while drinking a smooth cup of coffee. Cool, distant but surprisingly steady and reliable, because without fail, the tide always comes in and back out again.

Rising to her feet, she places the pen and newspaper back into her bag before sliding it up into the crook of her elbow. "Yes," she says with assertion stepping closer to the doctor, receding into his office.

"When you're done," Finnick calls out to her, stopping Annie in her tracks, "Maybe you and I could go grab a coffee or tea, which ever floats your boat."

"Aren't you scheduled for a session today?" She asks warily.

Finnick shrugs. "Not sure what Doc has planned for me today."

Annie turns back to look at Aurelius who stands in the doorway with the smallest smile on his face. It's so rare for her to see him emote.

"Mr. Odair has quite the schedule ahead of him, but today will be brief. Just a … get to know you session. If you're willing to spare a few minutes at the end of our appointment, Annie, he can be all yours."

It feels a little presumptuous of Dr. Aurelius to give the green light on a request that she was going to shoot down prior to him speaking. What could he possibly be thinking? What does he see in Finnick Odair that she doesn't?

Wringing her hands around themselves in her obsessive compulsion, Annie takes a long deep breath she's been instructed to take in high stress situations. Five seconds in, five seconds to hold, five seconds out.

"We can meet up at work...my work...once we're done."

The way Finnick straights up in his chair and bounds across the waiting room stand uncomfortably close to her. His fingers twitch in anticipation but his arms do not budge from his side. She raises her brow in question but instead of answering, Finnick takes two steps back.

"I'll see you soon then?" he smiles carefully.

Bobbing her head she returns the smile and follows Dr. Aurelius from the waiting room to his inviting office.

"I think...you're an excellent candidate as an ally for Mr. Odair, Annie," the doctor speaks softly as he gathers his notes and miscellaneous files.

"Ally..." Annie tests on her tongue as she slides down into her seat. "Kinda like I'm his Peeta?"

"Exactly," the doctor says falling down into the plush chair beside her, his eyes glancing at the clock. "Would you like to start at the four minute mark today?"

Annie shakes her head. "If you don't mind, I'd prefer to end four minutes early."