all_inclusive | Gathering: Summer Party

Outside of the Nexus Hotel, waiters and hotel staff had begun to set up the umbrellas and the tables in the middle of the day. Soon, it became clear that something was happening in the shadow of the Nexus. White tablecloths were draped on the tables and drinks and food were brought out with the help of several waiters and servers, staffing tables with hot and cold foods beside bartending stations. Summery drinks in bright, neon colors are laid out one by one and soon, the afternoon light casts a radiant look on the scene.

Music plays faintly in the background and a note at the front desk invites all the Nexus guests to head outside and join in on the summer party, which promises to continue going as long as there are people to stay and continue keeping the warm atmosphere rolling.

On the lawn, social games had been set out -- lawn bowling, croquet, and tables were set up with chairs for anyone who didn't quite have the will or the spirit to get into such games. Soon, a small number of people had begun to mill around, but as with all parties, there's always room for more.

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It's not that Johanna is ignoring Finnick, but ever since the kid was born, she kind of feels like they live in two different worlds now. She'd come here to get lost in the crowd, but when she sees Finnick and the baby, she feels like maybe she should woman up and face him. It's a kid, it's not like the Gamemakers are gonna turn it into an offensive weapon. "He's cute," she says evenly. "I guess. He gets it from Annie."

It's almost a relief to see Johanna. He hadn't ever really believed that she had been sent back, but it had felt like a longer time than usual since he'd last seen her. He does appreciate so many people from their world being here, but he would miss Johanna if she were to leave.

"He does, doesn't he," Finnick answers, flashing her a gleaming smile, unperturbed by her barbed comments. He wouldn't know what to do without them at this point.

"Get over here and hold him now," Finnick says, nodding his head at her. "This is your Auntie Jo," Finnick says to Tristan, still grinning.

She makes a face at the idea of holding him, which is what she's been trying to avoid. Her maternal instincts pretty much fall in the negative area of the spectrum and it shows as she wanders over with heavy feet, sitting down beside him and figuring it's inevitable he's going to shove the kid at her, so she might as well do this before it starts crying. "What do I do?" she asks, holding both arms out with her elbows slightly bent. "If he takes a shit, he's going right back to you," she warns.

"Well, don't drop him," Finnick answers wryly, a teasing smile on his face as he closes the short distance between them, carefully transferring Tristan into the cradle of Johanna's arms.

"Just support his head," Finnick instructs, his tone a little more serious, his hand still lingering near his son's head. "And he should be okay." Finnick answered, looking back up at Johanna, the second part half intended to be a continuation of his sentence, half intended to be in response to the last thing Johanna had said.

"Don't worry, my reflexes aren't that shot," is her teasing reply, breathing in as she tries to figure out how to hold the kid comfortably. Eventually, she just follows Finnick's lead since she's more than a little malleable and able to move her body to hold the baby against her chest. "I still can't get used to it," she admits. "I mean, I knew you loved Annie, but I guess I never really saw happy families in either of our futures."

Finnick can't help but grin like a complete idiot as he watches Johanna hold his son. It's an image that's entirely endearing and one that he's not likely to forget any time soon.

"Well, it did take us getting pulled into a magical hotel that transcends time and space for that to happen," Finnick comments. "So I suppose I can forgive you for never really seeing that in either of our futures."

To be fair, it didn't sound like they got anything great when they went back home. Of course, they started and ended a war that overthrew Snow, but he died, and he'd heard about the tangible scars Johanna walked out of that war with.

Johanna eyes Finnick warily, not trusting him as far as whipping out a camera goes. The last thing she needs is people getting the idea that she does this regularly and is softening up, in any way. "It's strange," she says, voice a bit disconnected, "to think that we're never going back there. I know I hated it, I know it was horrible, but in a way, it was still home."

And she'll never see Seven's forests again, never see her home or the people who lived in the city. She's alive, though, and she's nobody's pawn here. "Tristan, huh," she remarks, staring down at the kid. "I get to teach him to wield an axe, right?"

She'd so aptly summed up everything he'd felt about their situation. Everyone had always so readily labeled their home world as terrible. And it was. There was no denying that. They couldn't dare go back, because they'd been put back into the arena or tortured or killed -- or all of those things, probably in that order.

But still. It was the place they came from. It might have destroyed them, but it also made them first. He'd grown up diving into the ocean of Four, running along the beaches. It was the first place he'd met Annie, kissed Annie, built their entire life upon what they could hide there. Even when he was in the Capitol, he'd always expected to go back there, a waiting game each time. It was strange to think that he wasn't ever going back. It's strange to think his son would never see where they came from. Reassuring, yes. But strange nonetheless.

"Wouldn't trust anyone else to teach him how to wield an axe," Finnick answers fondly.

"Good, because if you let Peeta near him in his formative years, he might learn how to knead bread and that's about it," is her wicked little retort, holding Tristan at arm's length and staring at him, as if looking for some resemblance to Finnick or any other part of the kid that she could actually appreciate. "Imagine when he's old enough to walk and talk. You should hope he takes after Annie."

"Think how fat I'll get if I live with a little Peeta," Finnick answers, and he tries to keep his tone serious. Honestly, and he knows this is going far too sappy, he knows he'll be incredibly lucky if their son grows up to be at all like Peeta.

"It is my fervent hope," Finnick quips as he leans in to rescue his son from where Johanna is staring at him.

Gathering: Summer Party

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