This started as a simple, dumb one-shot of hayffie time travelling into the future which I posted in chapter 203 of The Ballad but because people liked it and I had some request to continue it, I decided to expand the story. So essentially, the plot of chapter 1 is the same as the one-shot that I've already posted except I added details into it so that the coming chapters would make more sense.

I've completed writing this story and there will be 7 chapters to it. I hope you enjoy this and let me know what you think of it :)

Leaving The Present and Into The Future

The rapid rate in which technology had progressed in Panem was both wonderful and alarming. The programs which allowed for weathers to be replicated and thus, controlled in the Capitol were not something Haymitch particularly liked.

Beetee created devices that he released to President Snow, and some which he hoard to himself like the one that could scramble signals so that they could talk without the Capitol eavesdropping. There were times when Haymitch wondered if Beetee was actually pushing boundaries because the device he was currently working on would have catastrophic consequences in the wrong hands.

"It's a watch. Nothing fancy, nothing that will rouse the Capitol's suspicious. It can do so much," Beetee grinned, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I think I did it, Haymitch. Time and space can be manipulated and bent."

"Wha - What's the mean?"

"Moving between different points in time – backwards and forwards, past and future."

"That's fucking crazy. And I thought I'm the one who's drunk," he laughed, taking another drink as he lounged lazily on the sofa.

"You don't believe me but I can show you," Beetee said eagerly. "An hour into the future and you'll know what I mean but let's keep this between you and I, for now."

Before he realised what was happening, Beetee had already slapped the silver watch around his wrist and was fixing the band.

"Has it ever occurred to you that just because you can do something, it doesn't mean you should," Haymitch murmured.

The timing on his watch was set and he felt a sudden tug in his chest that caused him to sit up straight. Beetee was no longer where he was moments ago and Haymitch was not at District Three's apartment but at the Penthouse watching himself in an argument with Effie Trinket.

It all happened in a split second because he choked and panicked, and pressed down the red button on his watch to reset the clock. He was back on the sofa with Beetee grinning at him in the present time.

The drunken haze lifted, making him quite alert. His eyes darted all around him as his mind tried to make sense of what just happened. He was still incoherent when Effie walked in at that moment wearing the same clothes he saw her an hour into the future. He stared at her as if he had never seen her before.

"Judging from the look on your face, my friend, it worked," Beetee leaned forward so only Haymitch could hear him, his voice triumphant.

Neither he nor Beetee realised that he left District Three's apartment for the Penthouse with the watch still attached to his wrist.

The argument with Effie that he already knew was coming turned out to be much worse as the minutes dragged by. She had already tried to slap him twice and he was quickly losing his patience. On the third try, he pinned her to wall and he could feel her breasts heaving against his.

"You are insufferable and rude, and you have absolutely no respect for me at all," she shrieked, her blue eyes bright with anger.

"I have no respect?" He taunted her. "You're the one who's been tryin' to slap me, Trinket. You've got a pole so far up your ass that - "

"Don't be so vulgar," she spat at him as she continued to struggle. "You're hurting me!"

He wasn't one to hurt woman as a rule so he loosened his hold on her slightly. Effie seized the chance and freed her hand. She grabbed his wrist where the watch was and pulled on it hard, intending to distract him enough by letting him think she was about to destroy his new watch.

Haymitch heard something clicked and before any of them could register what it meant, there was a violent tug, as if the world had been wrenched free from under their feet. He felt his stomach lurched, the same feeling one would get when dropped from a certain height. Effie was gasping for breath and he had to tilt her head up before she choke but he was struggling too, feeling as if he was being squeezed and pulled at the same time. Her face had contorted into a mask of pain, her eyes squeezed shut and he shook her lightly.

Then it stopped as suddenly as it began. Whatever it was, it was over. For now, at least.

"Haymitch?

He had an arm around her waist, holding her upright. Effie might be a thorn at his sides and they were constantly at each other's throat but he didn't want her hurt.

"Breathe," he instructed. "Can you breathe?"

The clicking sound was gone and what replaced it was a soft whirring which was coming from his wrist. He looked at the watch with its cracked screen. The numbers on it was changing at a speed that was making it dizzy before it flashed once and a number remained on the screen – thirty five.

His fingers curled on her hipbone by reflex as he swallowed, trying to steady himself. He felt nausea and dizzy, and he was certain she felt the same although, there was another reason his heart was in his throat.

Thirty-five.

He knew what it could possibly mean but he was fervently hoping he was wrong. He couldn't have moved from one point in time to another with Effie Trinket. That would be a disaster and thirty five could mean anything; thirty five minutes, thirty five hours, thirty five weeks or worse, years.

"What on earth just happened?" Effie demanded.

"No idea."

"Oh, why did I think you'd know," she grumbled irritably, fixing him with a look. "We are going to be late and it will be entirely your fault. Arguing with you has already probably taken quite a bit of time from the schedule. Oh, I do hate you so, Haymitch. Hurry now, we must get going. Sponsors hate it when we're late for a meeting."

Sometimes, he wasn't sure if Effie Trinket was foolish or simply just stubborn. Six years of being his escort should have taught her that no one would sponsor District Twelve and that chasing after sponsors was a waste of time but she just refused to give up.

"Something's not right," he muttered to himself just as Effie stopped short from walking away from him.

It was a comical sight to see her tilt her head to the side, taking in her surroundings with a hand poised in mid-air. She spun around to face him.

"Where are we? We were just as the Penthouse. We were just – Is this your house? That," she pointed to the curtains hanging by the window, "wasn't there when I came for the Reaping a week ago. This makes no sense," she let out a breath.

"I think you're right. This is my house," he said slowly as his eyes swept through the room.

Ever since the world stopped feeling as if has been pulled from under him, he had been trying to figure out where he was. There is something so achingly familiar about this place and yet, things seemed different at the same time.

"How can I be at a place one second and someplace else in the next? Haymitch," she gave a high pitch laugh and he knew that any second now she would lose her composure. "This... This joke you're playing is not funny. It is not so I suggest you cease this at once and - "

Haymitch grabbed her hand and pulled her down with him. It was, unfortunately, one of the worst hiding spots but there was no time to find another before they were spotted. They remained crouching behind a sofa which admittedly, he couldn't remember owning.

The approaching footsteps grew louder as it entered the room before it stopped a few steps away from them.

"I know, Mama. I'll be back for dinner."

"Who is that and why are we hiding?" Effie hissed. "You realise how silly this is, I hope!"

"Shut up, Trinket."

Haymitch peered over the top of the sofa to see a tall girl with flowing blonde hair reaching past her shoulders dressed in a skin tight jeans and oversized blouse. He blinked and glanced down at Effie next to him. Unless his eyes were deceiving him, that girl looked a lot like his escort.

Who is she? What is she doing in my house?

The girl was completely oblivious to their presence as she grabbed her things from the coffee table and dumped them in her bag, humming a tune under her breath. On her wrist, as slender as Effie's, was a gold bangle.

"My grandmother used to sing that song to me before I sleep," Effie whispered, kneeling next to him to watch the girl.

That information was certainly new to him and he filed it away. They weren't in a habit of discussing about their personal lives so Haymitch said nothing.

"Willow and Rye is gonna join us for dinner," the girl said over her shoulder. "I hope you haven't forgotten. Aunt Katniss and Uncle Peeta talked to you about it, yeah?"

"She talks like you do," Effie commented. "All that abbreviations with a 'yeah' at the end of a sentence... I supposed it is a District Twelve trait."

"Of course, I remember. I am not your father. Don't you worry, darling," a woman, he presumed to be the mother, answered her.

"Darling is not a District Twelve thing," Haymitch pointed out. "Sounds like something you'd say, very Capitol."

"And please don't forget to pick up the milk on your way home, Aria," the woman continue. "I can never rely on your father to do something as simple as that."

The girl snickered and they held their breath as she walked past them towards the front door. It was only when they heard it close behind her that they dared to stand.

"Her mother... She sounds," Effie frowned, "familiar."

"Like this damn house," he muttered as he walked around the sofa to the coffee table.

He plucked the newspaper and cursed loudly the moment his eyes fell on the date. Startled by his reaction, Effie was soon standing next to him but where the panic was slowly rising in him, she was strangely calm.

"There is a mistake in the printing."

"Don't think so," he grimaced. This would be the good time to break it to her. "Listen, Trinket, what I'm going to tell you... You don't scream, you hear me. You keep very, very quiet."

"What is it?"

"I think," he inhaled, "we're thirty five years into the future."

"I beg your pardon?"

He repeated himself. The second time didn't sound any better to his ears.

If he knew, he would have warned her not to scream or laugh. Of all the reaction she could have to "I think Beetee's watch made us travel into the future" she chose to laugh in his face. He covered her mouth with his hand all the while glaring at her.

"There's someone in this house. She might hear you," he growled. "Don't be so fuckin' stupid, will you?"

"Stupid? Might I remind you that I wasn't the one stupid enough to wear something as dangerous as that dreadful watch on his wrist," she hissed once she managed to get rid of the hand covering her mouth. "Give that watch to me!"

"Fuck no," he raised his hand above her head, out of her reach and moved back only to knock his legs against the coffee table and lose his balance. The vase rattled against the glass surface and the watch hit against the glass. The cracked screen of the watch shattered.

"Haymitch, is that you?"

They froze, staring at each other.

"How does – How does she know your name?" Effie asked. "If we've gone forward, wouldn't this be your future house and... Who is that? Oh! Do you think you've moved out? I thought Victors stay for life in - "

"I don't have the answers to all your questions, Trinket," he snapped in irritation. "We need to get out of here."

"No," Effie shook her head vehemently. "If it's true what you said, then we need help. It is fortunate that she knows who you are. We can ask her to assist us."

"Are you out of your mind?" he hissed at her. "We can't let anyone know we're here. Beetee said something 'bout a butterfly effect – whatever you do and who you interact with will have an effect one way or another. How do you think we're gonna explain to someone 'bout this whole fucking thing. 'Hello, lady, you seem to know me but I'm not really who you think I am. I'm from the fucking past.' Do you realize just how insane that sound?"

"Yes," she retorted, "as insane as you telling me that we're in the future! Why don't you stop and consider that perhaps time travelling is already the norm for them and they can help us?"

"I'm not taking any chances."

"Suit yourself. The watch is broken now thanks to you and if that's how we came to be here, that must be the only way out. Now, how do you propose we get back to our own time?" She challenged. "I am going to find me."

"No."

"I will definitely help myself and you, for that matter, because it is the only polite thing to do and she knows... I mean, I know it... Or is it a 'we' in this case?" She frowned, finding the situation confusing. "No matter, the point is, there will be help. Besides, this is a rare opportunity to see how I am doing for myself."

"Yeah?" He crossed his arm. "And what if you can't find yourself 'cause you're dead in this timeline?"

That thought startled her and he couldn't help a smirk. Effie Trinket who grew up sheltered in the Capitol had never considered her own mortality.

"I will only just be sixty," she said, dejected. "Well… Since we know you're still alive, we should find you."

"I will try to kill me. That's for sure. I don't take kindly to surprises."

"Well, then, what are we going to do? Should we follow the girl? She might help. We don't know who she is and she probably has no idea who we are. We can just pose as two –"

"That woman knows a Haymitch which from the looks of where we are is most likely me thirty five years from now so, yeah, sweetheart, I think you can bet the girl will know me. We've got to find some other way. Come on," he turned and beckoned for her to follow. "We have to get out of – "

Haymitch stared at the photo frames lining the mantelpiece. Next to him, he heard her gasp loudly, felt her hand clutch his own and gripping it tight, her nails digging into his skin. He couldn't even bring himself to pull away because the pain reminded him of the reality of the situation.

"That's you and that's... me," he caught himself stating the obvious.

"That girl… She's the girl we saw earlier. Aria's her name," Effie raised her head to look at him. "Is she… Are we… Oh my goodness, this is a nightmare. We can't be - This is a nightmare."

"Thank you, that's fuckin' kind of you," he grumbled.

"She called her 'mum'. We have a child together," Effie said, her voice rising up a notch. "That woman we heard is me. There is no other explanation. I am alive after all! Don't tell me this isn't surprising to you!"

"That you're alive or that we've got a child together? Because, yeah, sweetheart, I'm fucking surprise 'bout having a girl. I don't even want to know how we're a family in this timeline."

"Well, clearly, in the future, we're sleeping together. That's how babies are made and please, do mind your language! I definitely hope we are married because the social ramifications of carrying your illegitimate child…" she shuddered. "I will kill you. Why would I have a child with you?"

He snorted. "You're really the last person I want to marry, Trinket. Don't take it personally though, I ain't the marrying kind."

"That must be me, Haymitch," she repeated. "That woman talking to Aria earlier… I have to go see me," she said and before he could do anything to stop her, Effie was already walking towards where they heard the voice.

"Come back here," he called out. "I mean it, Trinket, if you don't - "

Effie stood frozen in the hallway at the sight before her. He understood what had her rooted to the spot. Even he was blown away. The Effie before them – the future Effie, his mind was quick to make the distinction – was in the kitchen with her back to them doing the dishes and like Aria, was completely unaware of the two strangers in her house.

She was wearing a simple blue dress with her natural honey blonde hair pinned to the top of her head. The radio was playing quietly in the background to fill up the silence and her hips swayed lightly to the music.

"I can't picture you like that," he commented, moving forward to stand behind Effie.

"I can't picture me like that, either," she agreed. "I seem … That person doesn't seem at all like me but it is me. I just... look very much at home, like I belong here."

Both Effie, present and future, jumped a little when the back door swung open with a bang. They heard someone stomping on their boots on the door mat before the said person lumbered into the kitchen.

"Got two more eggs, sweetheart," a gruff voice said and Haymitch knew without having to see who it was to know that that person was him. It was him in the future. "The goose laid two more. Supposed I can get Rye to sell this at the market or somethin'. You won't want any more goslings, do you?"

Haymitch steered Effie away from the hallway behind a wall where they could keep an eye on the other occupants without being seen.

"Absolutely not, Haymitch, you have enough as it is," the future Effie answered, drying her hand on the dish towel.

What she did next made Effie gasp. She leaned forward and gave a peck on the future Haymitch's lips who responded to it eagerly.

"That's strange," Haymitch blinked, swiping his thumb against his bottom lip. "That's fucking strange."

"I would say so myself."

"Wonder how you taste like," he murmured. That statement was so unexpected that Effie was caught off-guard, wondering if he had ever thought about it before today. "I ain't dreaming am I, Trinket?"

"Oh, goodness, we're -"

She was at a loss for words and gestured helplessly.

"Not sure which is worse, walking in on my parents kissing or watching myself making out with you," Haymitch said as the scene unfolded before his eyes.

Still, the sight captivated his attention, forcing him to watch as his future-self curled his fingers on the nape of Effie's neck. His eyes drifted to Effie's neck, the one from his time. By the time he raised his gaze back to the other two, the older Haymitch had already deepened the kiss, his free hand slipping under the hem of her dress. The Effie from the future laughed into the skin on his neck as her arms came up to wound around him.

His skin prickled when it struck him that those two were used to that. The way they behaved around each other was normal for them.

That Haymitch is happy.

"Uncle Haymitch! Mum says – Ugh gross. Why are you always kissing?"

"That's to teach you to knock on the damn door, Rye," his future-self growled at the boy as he discreetly pulled his hand out from under Effie's dress. "The eggs are over there."

"M'kay. Mum and Dad sent me off early to you 'cause they don't wanna be late to meet Uncle Plutarch. So... Here I am!"

"Plutarch? Did he say Uncle Plutarch?" Haymitch whispered. "As in Plutarch Heavensbee, Junior Gamemaker?"

"That's the only Plutarch that I know of," Effie nodded. "We are... It would seem that we are friendly with him in the future. What a strange time. Who is this boy, I wonder? Did you catch his last name?"

"Katniss' and Peeta's kid," he answered, remembering what Aria had said earlier. "I've no damn clue who they are."

The name was somewhat familiar to him so he had his suspicion. Aspen Everdeen, if he recalled correctly, had once told him his daughter's name. From his calculation, in this timeline, Katniss could very well be her. She would be old enough to have children of her own.

Rye could be Aspen's grandson. He's here with me in my house. What happened to his grandfather? Why is he with me?

His head was spinning because ever since his Games, Aspen and him had drifted apart. If in the future, his grandson was close to him, he wondered if against all odds, they had somehow managed to mend things between them.

"Can you tell me more about the war, Uncle Haymitch?" the boy continued as he walked towards the living room, narrowly passing by the place where Haymitch and Effie were hiding. "Last week you said you'll tell me about how you got Mum and Aunt Effie to District Thirteen during the Third Quarter Quell."

Haymitch's eyebrows shot up. "The future is a confusing place. District Thirteen? Come on…"

"No, Haymitch, listen," Effie chided. "He's talking about the Third Quarter Quell, that's ten years from where we are now. We're in the 65th Games. Something is happening or going to happen in ten years' time."

They exchanged a look with at each other.

"A war," they both said at the same time.

"We'll have time for that later," said his future-self. "You wanna tell me how much you plan on selling those eggs?"

"They're in the living room," Haymitch pointed out. "We've got to move now."

She nodded and they slipped out of their hiding place. They poke their heads into the living room to make certain that all three occupants were accounted for and Haymitch stilled. He was struck by how domestic the scene looked to him, how much different his life turned out to be.

He wasn't the only one harbouring those thoughts because Effie laid a gentle hand on his arm.

"Something must have happened to us between now and thirty five years in the future. Look at the way I am looking at you," Effie pointed to herself in the living room. "That Effie loves him. You can see it in her eyes. My eyes," she whispered. "That is me. That will be me and … and you."

Haymitch swallowed because he could see it too. It felt odd to know in the future, he would be loved by someone. He noticed the way his future-self smiled at Effie. The revelation that somehow those two shared something special between them, something that he did not yet have with the Effie standing next to him was surprising, and it gave him a sort of thrill to find out about it. What could he share with a Capitol escort other than a mutual experience of being involved in the Games?

They were so caught up in it that neither of them noticed that they had been lingering for far too long in the open. The future Effie glanced up, the smile frozen on her lips the moment she locked gaze with the younger version of herself.

"Oh, shit," Haymitch breathed.

Chapter 2 will most likely be posted tomorrow.