Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me except the mistakes as this is un-beta'd.
Note: Very random HG AU in which Effie is an escort in a much more modern sense of the word. Happy reading.
The Escort
It's the early hours of the morning by the time Haymitch finally wanders back to his hotel suite. His head is pounding from the night before and his knuckles are slightly grazed, suggesting he has had a disagreement with either a person or a solid inanimate object. He cannot remember which of course. Perhaps that is for the best.
His Tributes are dead. Again. And he is not. Even though he is pretty sure he drank enough last night that that shouldn't be the case anymore.
As he reaches the doorway to his temporary bedroom he stops suddenly. There before him is a naked girl sound asleep in his bed. No sheets or blankets cover her modesty; they are thrown somewhere amidst the disarray that is the rest of the room. Despite the fact she lays face down Haymitch can tell this woman is young, younger than him and definitely in good shape. She wears a bright, bubble-gum pink wig that is somehow still perfectly in place on her head.
The girl begins to come too slowly and rolls onto her back revealing everything for him to see. Her eyelids blink lazily at him but she doesn't seem at all startled to be waking up in an unfamiliar place with a stranger watching her sleep.
"You're Haymitch Abernathy." She states matter-of-factly.
Not a complete stranger then. She knows who he is at once but that is hardly a surprise. Everybody knows who he is.
She continues to make absolutely no attempt to cover herself. He's got to hand it to her, whoever she is, she's got front.
"Yes and you're naked." He counters right back. He supposes there are worst things to come back to than a beautiful, naked girl waiting in his bed.
"What are you doing here?" The girl asks, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and smudging her makeup slightly in the process.
Capitol make-up. If the wig doesn't give it away the clownish cosmetics certainly do. Beautiful, naked, it was too much to ask for her to be District too he supposes.
"This is my hotel suite. What are you doing here?"
"I'm assuming you must have paid for my services last night then."
"Services? What are you a prostitute or something?"
"No, I'm an escort." She says as if it's the most obvious thing in all of Panem. Perhaps to Capitols it is but he doesn't have a clue who or what she is.
"The difference being?" Haymitch scoffs a little defensively, he's getting the distinct impression she is having fun with his ignorance. Nevertheless if she really is a hooker then he has to admit she's the prettiest damn hooker he's ever seen.
"I cost more. A lot more."
He bets she does.
"Well I didn't pay for your services last night because I do not have to pay for that."
And isn't that the truth.
He is the Victor of a Quarter Quell. He doesn't doubt that he'd never be lonely for that kind of company ever again if he didn't want to be. Especially here in the Capitol where he seems to fulfil every rough and ready District kink that an alarming amount of Capitol women appear to possess.
Whilst he'd been speaking she had sat up and reached for her disregarded underwear lying by the side of the bed. As she stands to slip it on he cannot help but be a little disappointed she is covering up. Even with the wig and smudged makeup she is still undeniably gorgeous.
"Well somebody did. Pay for my services I mean." She says indicating to wad of rolled up money on the bedside table. An insane amount of money. She clearly isn't lying when she says she costs more if that is her average takings for a night.
The money is surrounded by half a dozen empty champagne bottles. Champagne really isn't Haymitch's style so presumably it had been purchased along with her time last night. It's no wonder she can't remember exactly what had happened the night before.
"Probably Chaff…" Haymitch mutters to himself.
Chaff is exactly the kind of person that would have the balls to purchase a load of Champagne and an expensive hooker, take them both back to someone else's hotel suite for the night and then leave them there come morning.
"Oh no it definitely wasn't Chaff." The girl replies, her back now turned to him as she pulls up her dress.
"You know Chaff?"
"Vaguely." She turns her head over her shoulder to look at him. "And trust me Chaff cannot afford me." She shoots him a suggestive wink that he finds himself smiling at.
She has cheek this one. And he always has liked them with cheek.
"What kind of prostitute…"
This time she shoots him a look of complete scorn that actually makes him want to retreat a little bit. He holds up his hands in mock surrender but is chuckling to himself.
"… Sorry escort. What kind of escort gets so fucked up on the job that she can't even remember who her client was?"
"Haymitch Abernathy lecturing someone else on alcohol consumption. Now I've really heard it all."
Her throwaway comment angers him because she doesn't know him. His little problem with alcohol is not so little these days and certainly not a secret anymore but it remains none of her damn business.
"Besides, what does it matter? They're gone and the money is here. Job done."
She picks up the money and puts it in her handbag before pulling on her ridiculously high shoes. She doesn't quite look decent but certainly a lot more presentable than he would have thought possible when he stumbled upon her only a few moments ago.
She comes teetering towards him.
"Goodbye Haymitch Abernathy…"
He chuckles to himself again as it becomes apparent she is incapable of calling him anything other than his full name. His momentary anger at her comment regarding his drinking is gone, erased by an odd fondness he is feeling for the utter ridiculousness of this woman.
"… Let's do it again sometime." She teases as she brushes past him.
As she reaches for the door handle she stops abruptly and turns back to him. Haymitch notices that all the light hearted jest is gone from her face.
"I'm sorry about Martha…" She says seriously.
Haymitch freezes at the sound of his latest Tribute's name. She obviously wasn't so fucked up that she missed the fourteen year old's death late last night. The shock of hearing her mention it overrides any of the other emotions he would have normally had at this moment – anger, regret, guilt.
"…She was doing so well. I thought…"
The woman trails off and gets a very far off look in her eye. She looks devastated, as if she knew the girl personally which Haymitch knows cannot be true. She probably just had some money riding on her or something. Though why she would back a fourteen year old from District Twelve is entirely beyond him.
"…Such a pointless waste…" She whispers so quietly he only just catches it. He could swear there are tears in her eyes. "…Well anyway, I'm sorry."
And with that she is gone, leaving him even more stunned than before. He has never heard anyone from the Capitol say something like that about the Games before. Pointless. Capitols never considered the Games pointless. And they certainly never saw the loss of District life as a waste. The loss of District life was pure entertainment for those people. Yet this mystery girl didn't seem the least bit entertained by it, in fact she seemed almost remorseful for it.
At once Haymitch realises he must find out exactly who this girl is. He's already plotting in his head how he could see her again.
First he'll have to start with Chaff…