Hello everyone ! The idea for this story came while re-reading Mockingjay. When talking about Peeta's rescue, Haymitch mentions people undercover and how costly in human lives the rescue was probably going to be. Then right after the drama with Peeta and Katniss, Plutarch mentions Effie (it's the first time her whereabouts are mentioned in the book), saying they still don't know where she is. All of this got me thinking and I decided that perhaps, Effie Trinket, rebel, wasn't quite a stretch after all.

It is also my personal headcanon that Haymitch wasn't a part of the rebellion for years. He is too unstable for rebels to risk it, so in my mind he only got in around the end of 74th Hunger Games/Victory Tour, probably through Cinna.

This is a hayffie story and there will be 6 parts, as usual I will post a chapter a day until it's complete. I would have posted it as a single one-shot in Have a Drink, Sweetheart but all together it was too big =)

As usual, thanks to Akachankami for the beta.

I hope you will like the story, don't hesitate to leave a comment.

Quite a Stretch

Part 1:

Act casual, Plutarch had said, Play drunk, don't make eye contact and stumble out as if you simply wanted some fresh air.

Haymitch had been a part of the official rebellion for less than a year and already he was done with their stupid advices. How did you act casual when you were trying to sneak out of the Training Center to get to a hovercraft that was supposed to take you on a rescue mission in an arena everyone in Panem had their eyes on at the present moment? He had been elated when he had first been approached by Cinna, after Katniss' stunt with the berries, he had thought that, at last, he would be doing something to change things. He would be able to actually do something, save people. Now, he was unconvinced by those rebels that spouted orders left and right but didn't seem to care about people. Yet it was his best bet to save the kids so he had no other choice…

According to the instructions he had been given, he should have already been out of the building and halfway to the meeting point. But he had wasted time. He had wasted time doing something Plutarch wouldn't approve of – hadn't approved of when he had brushed the subject – and something that was probably not only unwise but completely mad.

Yet when he entered the sponsors lounge and spied the person he was looking for, he couldn't quite regret his spur of the moment decision to bring her along. The kids would need her, he told himself, Katniss would need her; if the rebels wanted her to play the part of the Mockingjay then she would need an escort. And they were kind of friends, after all, he couldn't really well leave her behind to an unknown fate.

Effie's smile faltered when she saw him only to come back full force as she made quick excuses to the sponsors she was laughing with. He had planned to march in that room, grab her and get the hell out of there even if he had to drag her kicking and screaming. He found himself discreetly manhandled out of the lounge by her surprisingly strong grip on his arm.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, once they were in the corridor. He didn't pay it any mind, she never liked it when he wandered drunk around sponsors. Unfortunately, he wasn't drunk at all.

"I need you to trust me and not ask any questions." He had rehearsed the speech several times in his head those last few days. He would have denied it if anyone had asked but the idea of leaving without her had never sit well with him despite everything Plutarch had to say on the matter. "We're going to leave. Now."

He didn't know who was gripping who now. She was clutching his arm but he was grasping her wrist.

"You want to take me with you." she whispered. Something akin to awe and fondness flashed on her face but it was soon covered by a scowl. "Don't be ridiculous, Haymitch. I am touched, really, but you should already be gone. You need to get out of the building. Schedules are important."

It dawned on him, quite suddenly, that she should have been surprised, confused or even angry. Instead, she was perfectly calm and a little too aware of what was going on. "Sweetheart, what…"

"You have your orders." she murmured, never parting with her fake cheerful smile. "I have mine."

"Orders?" he repeated, completely lost. "What do you…"

"Oh, now, you're in trouble…" Effie interrupted him, her eyes riveted on the red-faced Head Gamemaker who was making his way towards them. Plutarch didn't look pleased.

"What are you still doing here?" Plutarch hissed angrily. "You should have left fifteen minutes ago." He glanced at the firm grip they still had on each other and frowned. "Effie, you need to go back in there."

She nodded and tried to step away but Haymitch held on to her wrist. "What's going on?" And then he shook his head because he couldn't bring himself to care, he turned to Plutarch instead. "We're taking her with us."

"No, we're not." the Gamemaker argued. "She will distract them long enough so you won't be missed." His face softened slightly. "She's been playing this game for us far longer than you, Haymitch, she will be fine, won't you, Effie?"

"What do you mean?" He was almost afraid to understand.

"I will be." Effie gave a sharp nod and gently pried Haymitch's suddenly numb fingers from her wrist. "You have to go, Haymitch. The children need you."

"But…" he tried to protest.

"I will be fine." she repeated, her face softening. "Don't concern yourself with me. Take care of the children for me, will you?" Her eyes darted to Plutarch. "Take care of him." She didn't wait for an answer, she pressed a quick kiss to Haymitch's cheek and retreated to the mentor's lounge.

"We need to move." Plutarch grabbed his arm and dragged him along the corridors, his laughter booming each time their path crossed a Peacekeeper's or a member of the staff.

A part of Haymitch marveled at how easily Plutarch seemed to be able to lie, another part whispered that perhaps it was him who was easily deceived.

"Explain." he spat as soon as they were safely out of the Training Center.

"Wait until we're in the car." the Gamemaker replied.

He waited but only because even feeling as betrayed and lost as he currently was, he realized it would have been dangerous for Effie if they were overheard. Effie…

She's been playing this game for us far longer than you.

It seemed impossible, inconceivable even. Effie Trinket, rebel… It was quite a stretch. She had never hinted, never slipped, never… There had been the silent nights spent side by side on the couch after they had lost a tribute, of course… Those few times when her bubbly personality gave way to something more real and more human than the escort persona could ever be… There had been the odd mention, sometimes, that had made him think she was a tad more aware of what was happening than she let on… But from there to actually thinking of her as a rebel, it was…

"What do you want to know?" Plutarch asked, once they had safely climbed in the car that was supposed to bring them to the hovercraft. His fingers tapped on the wheel nervously, his eyes kept shifting left and right, watching the traffic… They weren't out of the woods yet, Haymitch thought.

"She's part of the rebellion?" he blurted out. The question seemed twice as stupid spoken aloud.

"Obviously." Plutarch laughed before he amended. "She's an excellent actress. Excellent asset. We were lucky to get her."

Haymitch couldn't still wrap his mind around it. "Effie Trinket is a rebel."

"For years now." The Gamemaker glanced at him. "She's been working for us for almost six years. She's actually the one who recruited Cinna a few years ago. She fought for you to be approached by Thirteen. People weren't convinced you would be fit enough to join."

Haymitch rubbed his face. "Why?"

"Well…" Plutarch winced, ill-at-ease. "Your addiction to…"

"No." he cut him off. He had no interest whatsoever in hearing a list of his flaws. "Why did she… How?" How did someone like Effie Trinket become part of an underground movement? Six years… Six years meant she had already been his escort for five when she had been recruited. He couldn't for the life of him remember anything different around that time.

"I noticed her." Plutarch shrugged. "I made a little digging. She was unhappy with the realities of the job : she felt guilty over the children, she saw the Districts first hand, you probably… She despises the suffering amongst other things. An escort has entries everywhere, she was perfect. I recruited her. Did you truly not suspect?"

Haymitch ignored the puzzled look the Gamemaker threw his way.

"No." he sneered. "Should I have?"

"I suppose not." Plutarch replied. "It's just that… Well, she declined my proposition originally. She came back to me a few days later. When I asked what made her change her mind, she told me it was something you said. She wouldn't say what it was… I've always wondered…"

There was a tacit question in his voice but Haymitch wouldn't have been able to simply begin to answer. He had no idea what he had told her two weeks earlier, never mind six years. It was probably some insult or other.

"Is she going to Thirteen on a different hovercraft?" he asked instead of explaining how complicated and volatile his relationship with Effie was. It was a mix of loathing, odd sexual tension and fondness he couldn't understand himself. It scared him sometimes how much he could feel for someone he wanted to pretend was a simple Capitol drone… Well. Not so simple, after all. And certainly not a drone. "Is that safe?"

He couldn't help but worry about her. Rebel or Capitol, Effie was Effie and the Effie he knew, while always falling back on her feet, needed support. They were a team. They had been a team long before the kids came along.

The atmosphere in the car became awkward and then tensed very quickly.

"She's not coming." Plutarch said at last. "We need people undercover in the Capitol. She's a Capitol citizen, she should be fine." The last part was hurried and clearly not as sincere as he wanted Haymitch to believe it.

"Should be?" he hissed. "Turn around. We're getting her out."

"It's too late for that and she volunteered." the Gamemaker objected. "Our priority is the Mockingjay." A flicker of annoyance flashed on his face. "One of you should have told me you were involved with each other. This isn't…"

"We're not involved." Haymitch interrupted him. He almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculous conclusion on which everyone was always so quick to jump to but it didn't sound funny anymore. "I don't care about her."

He wasn't as good a liar as he would have loved to be.

"No?" Plutarch shook his head, still sporting a displeased face. "You could have fooled me."

Haymitch only wished he could fool himself.