AN: I just finished reading the books, and I immediately started reading fan fiction when I was done. Since then, I haven't been able to get this scenario out of my head. So, I finally wrote it down. Hopefully I'll actually finish this story...I have a bad habit of never finishing, even though I work it all out in my head :P

Rated M for graphic violence in later chapters. There's nothing too sexual though, only implications and above the waist stuff.

I don't own the characters, they're Suzanne Collins', etc.

The 56th Hunger Games

It was Effie Trinket's first year as a Capitol escort. True, District 12 had been the only spot available, and she would never have freely chosen it, but Effie had actually grown a little fond of the small, unpopular district. She was always one to make the best of a bad situation. At the age of 25, it was quite rare to attain such a prestigious position in the first place. Surely, her family's elite status had helped her out, but Effie liked to think it was her submission tape that set her apart from the other candidates. Along with attending multiple interviews, each escort hopeful had to prepare a short video about the district, something that would show its strengths and make a Capitol citizen at least mildly consider going there.

Even though Effie had been spoiled for most of her life, the reason she got what she wanted 99% of the time was because she was passionate, stubborn, a hard worker, a perfectionist, and above all, organized. After going through hours and hours of film, mostly focusing on the two former victors, she produced a video that made even herself excited to visit District 12.

But when she finally got there to select the tributes for the 56th Hunger Games, she realized just how much the Capitol's camera crews had disguised the coal miner's troubles. The sad gray buildings and starving faces were almost too much for her to bear as she walked through the streets toward the Victor's Village.

One of the biggest surprises about District 12 was the state in which she found Haymitch Abernathy. She would be embarrassed to admit it even to her closest friends, but she had had a little crush on him ever since his Games. Maybe it was because Effie, for some reason, always rooted for the underdog. Not publicly of course. Publicly she supported, and even bet on, the favourite to win. But secretly, she always had a little ray of hope that an unpopular tribute would be crowned victor. When she was 5 years old, she had been ecstatic that the nerdy little boy from District 3 won by outsmarting the strong Careers, but her parents got mad at her because they lost a lot of money on their bet, so since then she's kept those feelings mostly to herself.

She would be embarrassed to admit that since editing the footage of Haymitch's Games, her little crush had grown slightly more intense. The first time they met she even blushed a little, not that he noticed it under her heavy make-up. She found him at this house, to escort him to the Reaping, and was pleased to find the 22 year old was just as handsome as ever, although his hair was longer and wavier. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and she couldn't help but notice that his muscles hadn't lost any of the tone they'd had in his Games. And he still looked remarkably strong. But as soon as he started to talk she realized he was hung over, or probably still drunk, and her hopes of helping District 12 win plummeted.

"So, you're the new escort?" he slurred after she introduced herself. "What kind of a name is Effie anyway? Effie. Effie. Eff. Eff you!" He gave her a goofy smile and leaned on his door frame.

Effie cleared her throat and had to stop herself from glaring at him. "Yes well, what kind of a name is Haymitch?" she said, trying to contain her anger. "Is it short for Haymitchell?"

Haymitch laughed loudly and slapped her on the arm (harder than he had intended because she almost fell over). As he walked inside to get cleaned up he looked back at her.

"I think I'm going to like you, Eff."

The former escort for 12 had warned her about Haymitch's almost constant drinking. But, she'd also said that he usually toned it down during the Games, to help his tributes. Effie hoped he would sober up soon, especially since the older victor had died this past year, so Haymitch was the only mentor the tributes would have.

Luckily, Effie managed to escort Haymitch safely up to the Justice Building, but as the ceremony began, she once again saw just how much the Capitol had managed to gloss over.

When she saw the sad, pale faces of the children, how skinny they were, and how they couldn't possibly stand a chance against the strong fighters from the Career Tribute's forces, she momentarily questioned the morality of the Games.

But, Effie had never been one for politics. Besides, she reasoned as she stepped up to the podium to say her little speech, the districts had all agreed to this, right? This was the best solution, to save the greatest number of people, right? With this reassuring little lie in mind, she stepped up to the podium with a bright smile.

"H-Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

She was relieved to notice a change in Haymitch as soon as he stepped on the train. Suddenly, he was encouraging their tributes, asking them about their strengths, and giving them tips on how to survive. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief and relaxed a bit. They were the underdogs, but maybe she and Haymitch had a chance of producing a victor.

Over the next week in the Capitol, they worked their butts off to help the kids recognize their talents, and more importantly, they tried to get sponsors. She was surprised to find that the drunk victor she had met not too long ago turned out to be almost as hard working as she was. But none of it mattered.

It didn't matter, because as soon as Claudius Templesmith opened the Games, and the gong finally stopped ringing, all hell broke loose. The girl, Poppy, was the first to die. She ran off her platform, away from the Cornucopia, just as Haymitch had instructed. But there were so many tributes it was impossible to avoid running into someone.

Effie sat frozen on the couch in the Training Centre, watching the blood pool quickly around Poppy's head. Until this moment, she had never registered just how how much blood there was in the Games. Sure, you see it every year, especially at the bloodbath, but Effie had never watched too carefully, she supposed. She always watched the games with friends, or family, and everyone was distracted enough not to notice the real pain, and all that blood…

Were the people of the Capitol really that blind? That stupid? Had she really been one of them only a week ago? Effie had loved the Games her whole life, but had she ever seen the tributes as people? As children? No, they brainwashed you into ignoring it, into ignoring the fact that real humans, with thoughts and dreams, were dying.

People were groaning around her. The stylists and prep teams were talking quickly in their stupid shrill voices, saying that Brynn still had a chance. He was a faster runner than the girl. Effie didn't even realize that Haymitch rose beside her until he flopped back down and put a cold glass in her hand. She brought it to her lips without caring what it was, and cringed as the large amount of vodka and small amount of orange juice burned down her throat. She almost smiled at Haymitch's failed attempt at a mixed drink, but at this point she wasn't sure if she would ever smile again.

"Too strong for you, Princess?" Haymitch asked, not unkindly. Effie silently shook her head and took another sip. He had been watching her ever since Poppy got hit. Seeing her reaction convinced him that the ditsy Capitol girl he met just last week was dead, or at least dying.

It turned out Brynn wasn't fast enough after all, because within the next few minutes, he was dead too. Shot in the back with an arrow by a tribute who had managed to escape the bloodbath.

So that was it, both the kids were dead. The stylists and prep teams left quickly, off to some party. Haymitch patted Effie lightly on the knee and got up again, but Effie couldn't move. She was barely registering what happened on screen, her heart was breaking with the deaths of her tributes. She had tried her damn hardest, and she knew Haymitch had too, but those kids still died. They didn't even have a chance. She now understood just a little bit why he couldn't live with himself and turned to alcohol for the rest of the year. She allowed tears to silently roll down her cheeks, and she made no attempt to wipe them off.

It was hours before Effie finally turned away from the screen. She didn't know it, but she was subconsciously waiting for the final confirmation that her tributes were dead. Around midnight, she saw the faces projected across the night sky. Both from 5, one from 6, one from 7, both from 8, both from 9, and then finally, Poppy's beaming face, with her short blonde curls, and Brynn, only 13, with messy black hair and a shy smile.

Effie stumbled from her seat, not sure exactly where she would go or what she would do. She felt someone watching her, and looked across the giant room to see Haymitch gazing at her. He was sitting at the dining room table, slightly hunched, with a glass in his hand and two bottles of whiskey beside him, one empty and one about half full. She walked over to him, realizing about halfway there that this was no time to be walking in heals, so she kicked them off and lost about 2 inches off her height.

Effie poured some more vodka and orange juice into her emptied glass (a more reasonable ratio this time) and sat down beside Haymitch. She suddenly felt angry, seeing him there like that, numbing his pain with alcohol. But she wasn't angry at him, she was angry at the image of him. Not only did the Capitol kill 23 children every year, but the ones who survived were left to…to this. Depressed, guilt-ridden, broken, and unable to live with themselves. She didn't know why, but she suddenly took all this anger out of the only person she knew would understand.

"So this is what you do every year?" She yelled louder than she meant to, and Haymitch cringed. "Sober up, help them, then as soon as they're dead you get drunk again?"

Haymitch gave a derisive laugh. "Yeah, you should try it."

Effie glared at him and downed her drink. Haymitch laughed as she got up to make another, stronger this time.

She lost count of how many drinks she had, but for the next few hours she and Haymitch had almost a good time, considering. They drank and shared far more information about each other than an escort and mentor probably should. This was when Effie found out far more about the life of a victor than she'd ever known. How some are prostituted off by the president. How Haymitch's reward was having his family killed...

Neither of them remembered how, but at 4:00 AM, they ended up drunkenly dancing around the living room, which in their state mostly consisted of spinning, banging into furniture, and sometimes falling over. When a particularly romantic song came on, from the music player Effie didn't remember turning on, Haymitch pulled her in close, one hand resting on her waist, the other putting down his glass to hold her hand. She rested her face against his hard chest. They swayed together for a few minutes before Haymitch spoke.

"You know, you're not so bad, Effie Trinket…for an escort."

Effie laughed, "You're not so bad either, Haymitch Abernathy…" she looked up, trying to think of something witty to add, when she noticed how he was looking at her. She expected him to look drunk and hazy, or maybe teasing, but he was looking at her with concentration. It was the same look he had when he was talking to the kids about strategies and training. As if he was trying to figure something out, maybe figure her out.

But there was something else in that look too. A sort of…longing. Hunger, even. Yes! As soon as she thought it she realized that's what it was. It was the same look she saw on Poppy's and Brynn's faces when they stared at the food on the train, before she cheerfully told them they could have as much as they liked. This was how Haymitch was staring at her now.

She had been with her fair share of men, but none of them had ever looked at her this way before. She wasn't sure if a Capitol man was even capable of this sort of longing. In the Capitol, if you wanted something, you got it. That's the way Effie herself had been raised. If she wanted something, 9 times out of 10 she got it. The problem was, she didn't know what she wanted from Haymitch…and the look in his eyes was starting to make her a little nervous, even though she didn't want him to look away.

"What?" she managed to say, teasingly.

"Nothing," Haymitch quickly looked away and started to step back.

"No, wait!" Effie exclaimed and turned his chin back to face her, perhaps a little too roughly because he let out a small whimper. Effie lowered her hand and rested it on his neck, and placed her other hand on his shoulder. She knew what she wanted now.

Effie stood on tiptoe and just barely touched his lips with her own. He quickly closed the gap, and bent his head low to engulf her lips in a much more passionate kiss than she had intended. Not that she minded. She kissed back with just as much, if not more, fervour. For a few minutes, Haymitch's hands roamed all over her body, resting for a while on her round buttocks and squeezing her into him. Effie squealed happily and he laughed, the sound muffled by their lips.

Still holding her tightly, his right hand roamed back up her body, ready to nestle in her hair. But when he found the wig there he growled in annoyance and yanked it back, hard.

Effie screamed and pushed him back roughly, holding the back of her head in pain.

"What the hell, Haymitch!?" she fumed.

"Take it off!" he shouted, oblivious to her pain, obviously not knowing how securely that thing was kept on. "All of it!" he yelled even louder and gestured to her outfit. "It's like making out with a clown!"

A few tears escaped her. She just stood there, not knowing what to do. Her first instinct was to run from him, from the pain he had just caused her, and never let him touch her again. But, another much bigger part of her wanted to keep kissing him. They stood glaring at each other for a few more seconds until she realized that whatever she decided to do, it would involve going to her room, whether to hide from him forever or clean off her make up and return. So she turned angrily and started marching to her bedroom, unconsciously straightening the wig as she went. Haymitch gave a small snort of laughter and she realized he was following her. He still wanted her, she realized, he was still longing for her. That's what made her decide to clean off her make-up and return to their kiss…well maybe.

When she reached her room she stepped inside quickly and slammed the door hard behind her, not even looking back at Haymitch. She was still angry with him, after all. But she hoped he would still be waiting for her. She sat at her vanity and started to take the pins out of her wig. The back of her neck was a little pink from were Haymitch had tugged at it. As she worked, she was surprised to see most of her make-up was still reasonably intact, despite all the drunken crying and kissing she'd done tonight. The Effie from a week ago would have been impressed, but tonight she was surprised to find that she wanted it off more than Haymitch did. She wanted to take off the mask she would now have to wear every year until she gets too old to be a proper escort. It's not that escorts can't resign early, but it was uncommon and always raised questions. Besides, if she really thought about it logically, she was probably the best person for the job. She doubted any other Capitol snob would care as much about a couple of kids from District 12...or be able to handle Haymitch as well.

Once her wig was off she stripped off her fancy suit and stepped into the shower, managing to remove all the make-up a bit faster than usual. The power-dryer dried her strawberry blonde locks in just a few minutes. They were always slightly unruly when left untreated, but when she looked at her naked form in the mirror, she realized this was what most man in Panem consider beauty. This was what Haymitch wanted.

When she returned to her room, she remembered she didn't have many clothes that wouldn't make her look ridiculous in his eyes. She wildly considered going to Poppy's room to find something modest, but that thought was quickly pushed away by grief. She looked through the closet, almost settling on a relatively simple zebra print skirt and black corset, when she realized just how tired her body was of wearing any sort of clothing. Besides, Haymitch would probably find a way to insult anything designed by the Capitol.

In resignation, Effie grabbed the white terrycloth robe embroidered with a "12" from the back of her bathroom door, and put it on. As she looked in the mirror, she realized this would not do at all. There was boring, but this was far too boring. She took the fluffy terrycloth off and replaced it with her own bathrobe, a short light purple silk, with fluffy yellow trim. It was probably the most conservative clothing Effie owned, and it would have to do. She put on the matching fluffy yellow slippers, took a deep breath, and opened the door to look for Haymitch, who she hoped was still awake.

To her surprise, she found him slumped against the wall across from her room. At the sound of the door opening he jerked awake, more alert than she expected him to be. But then, she supposed he had had about an hour to sleep as she had been getting ready. "Effie?" his voice gave away his fatigue as he got up slowly.

She smiled her winning smile, tossed her hair back, and playfully struck a pose.

"What, you don't recognize me, sweetheart?" she giggled as she spun once, remembered how short her robe was and stopped, flattening it out around her.

"Effie," Haymitch almost moaned as he stepped toward her. His expression made her smile falter, as she saw the concentration in his eyes. He was trying to figure her out again. "Effie," he repeated as he reached out and gently touched her cheek with the back of his fingers. "You're beautiful," he stated, in awe.

"Thanks," she said shakily and blushed. Somehow it meant more coming from him than it had from any other man.

He continued to gently stroke her cheek, still in awe at finally seeing her without her Capitol mask, when she said bravely.

"You know, it really h-hurt when you pulled my wig back," she released a mental sigh of relief; this had been nagging at her since it happened. She refused to believe he would be that cruel.

Haymitch was taken aback. His hand dropped from her face, breaking the physical contact between them. "Did it?" he looked guilty. "I'm sorry, I was just trying to take it off. I didn't realize it was on there so tight…considering how often it gets lopsided." He quipped, and nudged her teasingly.

Effie gasped. "It does not!" she exclaimed, knowing it did. She still wasn't quite used to those top-heavy wigs, but she had hoped nobody else would noticed.

"Nah, it does," Haymitch replied. "But don't worry, I probably spend more time looking at you than most people do," he added as he took her hand and kissed it. Effie giggled as Haymitch spun her around, his eyes focused on the hem of her bathrobe. "So, what exactly are you wearing under there? You know, when I told you to take it all off, I didn't think you'd take it so literally."

Effie shrugged playfully and started to turn back toward her doorway, "I can go put more clothes on if - "

"No," Haymitch growled and pulled her back towards him. Her feet got tangled and she tripped over her giant slippers, falling against his chest. "Sorry," he murmured, as he brushed some of the hair off her face. She started to say that it was okay, but he interrupted her with a gentle kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and reached up on her tiptoes, kissing him back passionately. He mumbled something into her mouth and she broke away for a second.

"What?" she asked, out of breath.

"You're short," he smirked as he looked down at her, remembering the woman in high heals whose wigs towered over his head.

"Shut up," she said and kissed him again, harder this time. She lightly bit his lower lip and moved her pelvis into his. He moaned into her mouth, and stepped forward, backing them up towards Effie's bedroom. Slowly, Effie began to back up further and further, Haymitch eagerly following. He slammed her bedroom door behind him as they passed through it, and she released his neck to started to unbutton his shirt. As she did, she realized her bathrobe was completely disheveled, revealing one of her perky breasts. She started to cover herself up when Haymitch stopped her, lightly holding her wrist.

"This is hardly the time for modesty, Princess," he said seductively and lightly kissed her nipple. She gasped in surprise and her hand flew to his head, entwining her fingers in his soft wavy hair. At her enthusiasm he began to kiss her soft breast, around her nipple, taking playful licks at it until she moaned his name in frustration and he finally enveloped it in his lips and sucks gently. He could hear her heart racing and knew his own must be just as bad. She moaned again and began to back up, leading them to the bed. He released her nipple and let her guide him, his hand still enclosed around her wrist. When they reached the bed he released his grasp on her as she sat down on the edge, leaning back and crossing her legs seductively. Effie smirked up at him, her hair was a mess, and the robe now revealed both of her breasts.

As Haymitch looked at her, he suddenly found himself nervous. Well, if he were being quite honest with himself, he had been nervous since they had first started slow dancing in the living room. He hadn't felt this way about a girl since he was 16, and look where she ended up. He hadn't had any sort of close contact with a woman since then. For all his bravado and charm, now that he was faced with the prospect of doing more than just kissing Effie Trinket, he felt like a boy again. The fact that Effie seemed to know exactly what she was doing made things even worse. Compared to her he was a boy. He just hoped his nerves wouldn't show on his face. But they did.

"What's wrong?" Effie leaned forward, pouting slightly. Had she been wrong? Did he not want this? Had he been too drunk to think straight and now that they'd come this far he'd realized she was just a stupid Capitol bimbo and he didn't want anything to do with her? She self-consciously tightened her robe around her. Haymitch frowned slightly at this.

"Nothing," he moved forward to kiss her again, hoping it would all come naturally, but she stopped him.

"No really. If you don't really want to I'd rather not," she averted her gaze, afraid she might start to cry.

Haymitch laughed far too loudly, "Haha, trust me, Eff, I want to." He thought for a second. "Do you?"

"Yes, of course," she snapped. "I don't make a habit of sleeping with men I don't want to sleep with. Do you?"

Haymitch smirked, "No, I can't say I sleep with men I don't want to sleep with."

"Ha ha," Effie said sarcastically.

Haymitch looked at her for a few moments, not knowing what else to say. He still wanted her. Badly. But he knew that he would have to explain his hesitation. But admitting fear and weakness was not something Haymitch Abernathy did often. Or ever. So he turned to a fail-safe emotion.

"And just how many men have you slept with, Effie Trinket?" she sneered angrily.

Effie was taken aback. She was hurt, and slightly embarrassed, but she wouldn't let it show in her response. "That is none of your business, Haymitch Abernathy," she hugged her robe around herself tightly. "Besides, I'm sure it pales in comparison to the hoards of woman who throw themselves at the handsome victor from District 12."

Haymitch snorted and looked away, "Yeah, the hoard of one."

"What?" Effie snapped angrily, until it sank in. "Oh." She vaguely remembered the girl he had told her about hours ago, the one the Capitol killed along with his family. She realized he hadn't been with any other girl since then, for the past six years, and she felt terrible. But she also felt a greater longing for Haymitch than ever before.

She stood up and took both of Haymitch's hands into hers and pressed her body against him. He was still looking away. She knew what she said next might make him even more angry, but she had to say it, "Are you nervous?" To her surprise, Haymitch just shrugged, still avoiding her gaze. "You were doing great you know," she smiled and kissed him lightly on the lips. He finally looked down and looked her in the eye.

"Oh yeah?" he asked. "How great?"

"Well, you're certainly the best kisser I've ever had," she replied, and he could tell it was true. "Now let's see how you are at everything else," she said as she grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him down onto the bed.

Effie awoke a few hours later to Haymitch lightly kissing the pink patch on the back of her neck. When he asked, she didn't have to lie when she told him he had been the best lover she'd ever had. True, he had been a bit nervous, a bit sloppy, and she had to talk him through a few things, but the fact that he cared enough to consider her needs was more than she'd ever gotten from one of her Capitol boyfriends. But Haymitch still needed reassurance.

"Really sweetheart, the men here don't even consider your needs. And it's always so…technical, you know? No passion. Unless they're taking some sort of drug of course. But I guess the women are probably just as bad," Effie said matter-of-factly.

"Sweetheart?" Haymitch snorted, but secretly kind of liked it. They were silent again for a few minutes, until Haymitch spoke again. "I leave in a few weeks, you know?" Even though his job was over, it was customary for all of the mentors to stay until the victor was crowned.

"Yeah, I know. I was trying not to think about that," Effie said sadly. She had been hoping to live in denial a bit longer. She had a feeling she'd have to deny a lot of her feelings from now on. "But, can't you just stay here? In the Capitol? All year? There's really no - " but Haymitch cut her off with a derisive laugh and she quickly backtracked. "No, of course not, that was stupid, forget I asked."

Still laughing, Haymitch teasingly ran his fingers along her naked stomach, "So, I guess this will just have to be our dirty little annual secret."

"So what, I'm just going to be your Capitol booty call?" Effie tried to sound angry, but ended up pouting.

Haymitch nibbled her ear. "It's better than nothing, isn't it?" He paused. "Just a little treat to look forward to as we watch 23 kids get murdered."

Effie sighed. "I have a feeling I'll be keeping a lot of secrets from now on."