A/N: I really have no idea what this is. I started writing it simply because I realized I have written a lot of angsty fics dealing with the loss of a baby and I figured it was time for a little fluffy fic about a baby. It ended up being less about the baby and more about... parenthood in general. I sort of see this as a companion to my other fic, The Bonds That Tie Us, but it's supposed to stand alone. Hope everyone likes it, please let me know your thoughts!

Winners

Haymitch tried to be as quiet and as fast as he could as he walked down the stairs, which proved to be quite impossible because he had a fussy baby in arms and he stomped his toe against the bannister when he got to the ground floor.

To say this was a struggle would be an understatement.

But Haymitch was confident he could do it — really, what was a crying baby in comparison to winning the Hunger Games, and planning a revolution? It was nothing. He could take care of a baby on his own. Quietly, at that. He was sure the baby would be quiet soon. It was his baby, after all — he knew her. He could take care of her on his own.

Although it had to be considered that the baby in question was also Effie's daughter, and she had a pretty nice, powerful set of lungs they had been becoming used to since she was born, six months ago. The important thing was to not let her get to the point of crying — and Haymitch knew time was against him.

"Fuck," he muttered, eyeing the bannister with mistrust. Ah, hell, Effie wasn't here to tell him to mind his language. "You'll be a good girl and not tell Mama about this, right, Sweetheart?"

Poppy merely looked at him, still not quite happy, with those big blue eyes, and scrunched up her face a bit — a clear sign that her patience was wearing thin.

"There, now," Haymitch continued into the living room. "We can sit around and play and not bother Mama by rolling over her. 'Cause that's not very nice," he said sternly.

The baby was still learning a lot and she had just recently mastered the art of rolling around — much to Haymitch and Effie's pride, unless this meant she'd roll over when Haymitch was reading and Effie was trying to take a nap. Sometimes she did it on purpose and laughed and laughed, thinking it was game — sometimes, the rolling happened accidentally in ways that left the baby very wide-eyed and possibly on the verge of crying if he and Effie didn't hover around her all the time.

He put the baby on the floor, pillows at her back and many toys scattered around; he sat in front of her, knowing she'd only be happy if she got his attention. Effie's daughter, through and through. But Poppy squirmed a little, still not content.

"There you go," Haymitch said, reaching for the baby's hands as he slowly brought her to a sitting position. Poppy let go of his hands and supported herself by putting her palms on the floor as well. At last, the baby gave him a smile. He couldn't help but smile back. "You're a smart girl, ain't you?"

Poppy replied by smacking her hands against the floor twice, and letting out a giggle.

"See, now you can play all you want," Haymitch said slowly — Effie was always emphasizing how important it was for them to talk slowly to the baby, to make sure she understood them. "No need to keep Mama awake. She needs her sleep, you know. Hard to do that when you want to eat all the time," he grabbed a stuffed elephant, one that the baby favored often, and pretended to make it crawl her little arm. Poppy squirmed and giggled.

Haymitch's heart may have swelled a little.

She had brought a lot of change in the house, some good and some bad, all of them surprising but none of them unwelcome; being up at night just as he and Effie had finally managed the nightmares for the most part certainly wasn't the best of changes, but Poppy only woke once or twice at night nowadays. That and taking care of a baby the entire day often left him and Effie pretty much exhausted — too much to have nightmares, even.

She brought a lot of giggles, though — she wasn't much of a crier in general, but she liked to be held and she liked being around them all the time — especially Effie, truly — and she babbled and tried to communicate and lately she had been repeating a sole syllable — conveniently, that syllable was 'ma' — over and over again. Haymitch thought Effie must be training her behind his back, but he didn't care.

Poppy grabbed the elephant with interest, little hands grasping the material and looking at him with mirth in her eyes. He was certain she'd be a troublemaker — those bright blue eyes were entirely too adorable and she'd get away with a lot. He just knew it.

"Hey, let's play with blocks," he offered, because Effie said it was important for the baby to recognize shapes and stuff. He didn't think it would matter in the end — and he had read a lot of parenting books — but he humored her; the baby didn't seem to mind, for once. He reached for the box — way too big for such a small baby — and started stacking the blocks, one by one, until he had the baby's attention and the elephant was forgotten. It took Poppy exactly three blocks for the whole thing to collapse. Haymitch burst out laughing. "Maybe not."

He settled for putting the blocks inside the box again, a fact that seemed very entertaining to the baby; he ended up putting the blocks inside only to scatter them on the floor all over again, to the baby's delight — she laughed and laughed and Haymitch was pretty sure there was no better sound than that.

There were two knocks on the front door and the tell tale steps of Katniss in the house; Poppy turned her head and almost fell on her stomach in the process, if it hadn't been for Haymitch to hold her up. When Katniss entered the living room, it was obvious she was in a mood.

"Can I stay here for a bit?" She asked.

Haymitch shrugged. Poppy went back to grasping the blocks and trying to put them in the box. "Sure. Mind your voice 'cause Effie's taking a nap."

The girl sat on the sofa — more like sprawled herself on it, really — and sulked for a bit. It had been raining for a few days and she probably hadn't wanted to go through the mud to hunt. Haymitch doubted hiding in his house was her first option; more like the third or fourth, surely.

"Is she still keeping you up?" Katniss asked, eyeing Poppy for a moment.

"We just started her on solids but it seems like it only made her want more milk in the middle of the night," he joked. "Effie said it's a bonding thing, maybe. She'll get used to it."

"How's the solid thing going?" The girl asked.

Poppy managed to put three blocks inside the box and clapped her hands enthusiastically; Haymitch did the same.

"Not great," he answered, in a very cheerful tone for the baby's sake. "You don't wanna see her diapers, believe me."

Katniss snorted.

"That's awesome, Sweetheart," Haymitch said fondly when Poppy put another block in the box and clapped her hands again. Effie was always doing that to praise her — it was clear she enjoyed it. He kept his eyes on the baby but spared a glance at Katniss. "Everything okay?"

"It's fine," Katniss said, too quickly for it to be true.

Haymitch arched his eyebrows — better not to push it. He sat with his back on the couch, letting Poppy play on her own for a bit. The blocks were exchanged for the elephant again. She looked at the stuffed animal for quite some time before pulling one of his ears, and then the other. Her little hands let go of the toy only to pick it up again.

"Let me know when you and the boy are up for babysitting again," Haymitch said, scratching his beard. "Just for a few hours in the afternoon would be great."

"Are you two that tired?" The girl asked, obviously sarcastic.

Haymitch glared at her. "A few undisturbed naps would be pretty sweet," he said. "And Effie still got separation anxiety. We gotta work on that. It passes to Poppy, and then it'll never end," he grinned at her. "And of course mommy and daddy wouldn't mind some alone time."

Katniss made a face. "Gross."

Haymitch snorted. "Yeah," he watched as Poppy squealed and babbled, putting her hands on the floor and supporting her weight — she would be crawling soon, and then they'd be doomed. "Effie wants another."

There was silence for a moment, the only movements coming from the baby.

"And you?" Katniss asked.

Haymitch pursed his lips. "I don't know."

It was an honest answer.

"I thought Poppy was an accident."

Haymitch threw her a look. "A surprise," he corrected, because soon the baby would understand such things. She might not be mobile or talkative yet, but she was smarter than all of them, he was sure of it. "But yeah, she was. Effie thinks she could use a sibling," he shrugged. "You know, there ain't many people around. Very little children. And it's important for her to socialize, you know the drill," he sighed.

"There's a 'but' in there," Katniss said.

He nodded.

"We'd have to do it fast. We're not so young," Haymitch told her. "She's still little, we can barely handle her as it is. Can't even imagine with two, really."

Poppy sat back and then proceeded to lie down on the pillows — more like throw herself on them, in a way that would have had Effie running around to make sure she was fine. Haymitch smirked, however, because he knew what the baby wanted. Poppy erupted in giggles and then put her little arms up. He held her hands and pulled her back to sitting; she threw herself back once more, and more giggles followed.

"I don't think it would be that different," Katniss offered.

Haymitch snorted. "Think of two babies crying at the same time. It's different," the baby rolled on her stomach, and attempted to grab another toy — the kind that made a lot of noise. Haymitch took it out of her reach, prompting her to let out a cry, and not the good kind. "Hey, none of that. Here," he handed her another stuffed animal, now a rabbit. "I don't know. I see Effie's point. And I think she shouldn't go through this alone," at Katniss's inquisitive look, he continued. "Just… being our child. It's heavy for someone so small. It should be easier on her if she can share it."

Katniss nodded slowly. "That's one way to see it," they watched as Poppy stroked the stuffed rabbit clumsily. "Or, you know, you're bringing yet another person into this mess."

"Thanks, Sweetheart," Haymitch replied sarcastically. "And there's the whole… maybe it won't happen. You know? Maybe we won't have any more. I don't know," he snorted. "I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing most times."

It was scary, if he was being honest. Effie shouldn't have to suffer another miscarriage, or even to entertain the possibility that perhaps they simply can't have any more. Poppy was a miracle herself — an accident, and a miracle, and a surprise. It had been hard to make sense of the pregnancy at the time, to know it was really happening, when he truly had never wanted to be a dad or to have a family. He couldn't imagine life without her now — he didn't want a life without her in it. Without them both. And so a new baby terrified him — in all possibilities.

But Effie wanted one, and the truth was that he had more or less already agreed to it. He had reservations he hadn't shared with her yet, but he could see her point of view. It wouldn't be simple for Poppy to be the daughter of a victor and a former escort. She would eventually see pictures and videos of her parents — her last name was enough of evidence for most people. And even if he was admired in most of Panem, there were people who criticized the fact that he ended up marrying Effie.

"But do you want another?" the girl asked. "I mean, I know you struggled but I'd say you're doing okay so far."

Haymitch shrugged. "I like the way it is now, but… you know, you make certain sacrifices in a relationship," he mumbled, not really sure what he was getting at. "If she wants another, we already got one, so there shouldn't be an issue with one more. Money isn't the problem, we've got room for another baby. Logistically it's all good," he took a deep breath. "If agreeing to have another baby is a sacrifice, then I'll say I got off easily."

There was a moment of silence; Poppy let go of the bunny and propped on her hands and knees, though she clearly couldn't do more than rocking — crawling was too advanced for her. Haymitch helped her back to a sitting position.

"Peeta wants to have children," Katniss announced.

In the past, if this conversation had happened, Haymitch probably would have had a drink in his hand, and he probably would have spit it out after hearing such sentence.

Poppy brought sobriety to the household for good, but he was still shocked. Three years after the end of the war, Katniss and Peeta more or less lived together, but weren't married or engaged yet. And such things were important in the district still. Not that he cared; he only married Effie when Poppy was three months old.

"Uh, now?" He found himself asking.

Katniss gave him a pointed look. "Ugh, no. In the future."

Well. That was a little better.

"And you?"

"I don't want them," Katniss replied. Again, too quickly. "Never wanted children. Why should I have them now?"

Haymitch shrugged. "It's peaceful now. Safe for children. I still find it hard to believe, most days. She won't have to worry about being reaped. She'll grow up traveling around districts and seeing new places. It's weird."

"Don't you ever think about the opposite?" Katniss asked. "If there were still games?"

"Hell, when she doesn't keep me up at night, that does," he confessed.

"How do you bear it?" The girl asked in a quiet voice.

He kept his eyes on Poppy. "Effie. She reminds me that the world is different now."

"What about the nightmares?" The girl asked, sitting up now. "I mean… aren't you afraid she'll wake up and hear you one of these nights?"

"They're not so frequent, and she doesn't sleep in our bedroom anymore," he told her honestly. "It's manageable, most days. Effie's been stable too. No more flashbacks in over a year."

"But it could happen."

He took a deep breath. "Yeah. It could happen. It's something we'll have to live with."

"But you didn't choose it," Katniss argued. "It just happened."

Haymitch nodded. "Yeah. Wouldn't change a thing, though."

"Did you ever… I mean, when Effie got pregnant," Katniss started. "Did you ever think of not keeping her?"

Haymitch frowned. Poppy looked at him very seriously, dropping the toy for a moment, then let out a happy giggle. Even Katniss smiled.

"No," he replied honestly. "I mean, it crossed my mind for maybe a second but Effie was already telling me she'd keep it. We've lost too many children to truly consider it. It's not her fault she was conceived, and we have the means to give her a comfortable life," he continued. "Something we didn't have before. You know that."

Katniss pursed her lips. "Yeah. And before, you and Effie wouldn't have been able to have children."

He shook his head. "Too dangerous. And just… dysfunctional. We weren't really together, the kid would have had to be hidden or given away. It wouldn't have been a happy existence. I'm glad it never came to that."

"It's different from me and Peeta."

"Listen, just because it was pushed to me and Effie, doesn't mean you shouldn't," he found himself saying. "In a way, Poppy came to us at the right time. It happened, and Effie knew I didn't want children and she got it. She understood it," he told her. "It just changed. Or maybe I'm the one who changed, I don't know. But you two are still pretty young. Just give it time."

But Katniss gave him a rather sad smile. "I don't think I'll change, Haymitch."

Haymitch shrugged. "Then the boy will get it, like Effie did. Don't worry 'bout it."

"Well, you more or less just told me you want another," Katniss joked. "I'd say Effie won."

"Shut up," he said fondly. "Hey, we got them in the end. We're the winners so far."

Katniss rolled her eyes, but nodded.

He moved a little to get closer to his daughter, who was once again on her hands and knees. Perhaps this was it. Perhaps she would be crawling right now. "Come here with papa. Come here, you can do it."

But Poppy only rocked back and forth, squealing at his coaching methods, obviously finding it very amusing.

"Mamamamamamama," she babbled.

Haymitch frowned. "No. Papa."

"I hope you know this is useless," Katniss snickered. "I'm gonna go make some coffee, okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Haymitch agreed, spreading his arms in an invitation for Poppy. "Come on, say 'Papa.'"

"Mamamamamama," Poppy continued.

It was frustrating. Especially because she wouldn't stop saying it.

"To be fair," Katniss' voice made him look up to the doorway, where she stood and watched his failed attempt at getting another syllable out of his daughter, "I think you're a good dad."

Haymitch rolled his eyes. "What gave me away?"

Katniss shrugged. "I guess only good dads worry so much."

She left for the kitchen, and Haymitch smiled.

"Mamamamamama," Poppy went on, and Haymitch finally gave in and picked her up.

"Say 'pa'. Papa," he repeated. He could hear Katniss opening the backdoor and the geese making the usual racket. A breeze reached them, making Poppy sneeze softly — he always thought it was pretty cute when she did that, but he did not want a sick baby in the house, so he brought her closer and stood up. "Come on, 'Papa.'"

"Mamama," Poppy repeated.

Haymitch rolled his eyes and turned around — to go to the kitchen and tell Katniss to close the damn door — and stopped when he saw Effie standing in front of the stairs, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. Clearly she had been there for a while.

"Don't be such a sore loser, darling," Effie teased him.

Well, at least that explained the baby's babbling.

"Did you want Mama, my angel?" Effie asked enthusiastically, walking around the couch. Poppy rocked her legs, clearly happy to see her mother. Effie took her in her arms, cuddling her close. "I know, Papa isn't the best at playing. He'll teach you chess when you're older, and then you'll beat him."

Haymitch smiled; they made for a pretty sight. Poppy was so clearly her mother's daughter, even at a young age, and he was glad for it. Even if he knew she'd break a couple of hearts in the future.

Effie broke his once, so fair was fair, really.

"She'll beat me alright."

Effie laughed, leaning in and stealing a quick kiss, which he was happy to oblige. Her eyes were sparkling — not from mischief, but from emotion. He wondered how much she had heard before making her presence known.

"Did I win, Haymitch?" She asked after a moment. "Is that how you see it?"

He shook his head at once, kissed Poppy's blonde curls and took her little hand in his.

"Nah. I'd reckon I won, Princess."

A fond smile graced Effie's features.

"I love it when you're soppy," she kissed him softly again, just as Haymitch groaned.