Hey there! So after seeing catching fire i could not deny the chemistry between Haymitch and Effie and the way Haymitch looked at her and when they touched hands *dies* so i have recently boarded the hayffie ship and am a HUGE shipper so just had to write this! My first hayffie fic, so i hope you guys like it! And thanks to iwanttoliveinthecapitol for betaing.

p.s: I suck so much with titles and really had no idea what to call this. It was literally just all of my thoughts on hayffie and what i wanted to happen just chucked onto a word document, so a title wasn't really planned out.

Summary: Yes, he had always found the woman attractive, (among other traits; irritating, overly bubbly, stubborn, loud, bossy, hot-tempered…) but Haymitch had never desired her. Yet this evening it seemed that his body was telling him something else. After a rough accident Haymitch and Effie find themselves in a rather...compromising position. One shot. Hayffie.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games series. All rights go to Susan Collins, this amazing, wonderful woman. This was written purely for entertainment.

A Compromising Position

"HAYMITCH ABERNATHY!"

Effie stormed into the stone cottage within Victor's Village, her six inch, plump coloured stiletto heels echoing against the marble floor. Her bubblegum hair seemed to mirror the pink rage rising in her pale cheeks as she furiously swung the door open. Her crystal blue eyes narrowed onto her target.

"Haymitch!"

Her shrilling yell seemed to miss the mentor's ears, who sat slouched in front of his desk, a bottle of wine dangling within his fingertips and a glass of scotch in the other. Effie approached him, her eyes examining his stained, crinkled t-shirt, filthy skin and greasy, matted hair. A pungent stench attacked her senses, making her nose crinkle in disgust.

"Typical," she muttered towards the unconscious man. "Absolutely typical. Haymitch stand up."

When the man didn't respond she picked up his glass of scotch with her finger and thumb, cringing at filth that hadn't been washed off it for years. She poured it over him. Haymitch immediately sprung up with a yelp.

"What the hell are you doing?" he yelled, shaking the alcohol off of him.

Effie fumed, pressing her purple painted lips together. "I should ask you the same question!" She screeched, pressing a manicured finger towards his chest. "Do you realise how humiliating it was to walk down to the reporters without the victor's mentor? Instead of coming to the conference you chose to drink yourself into intoxication, bringing shame not only to Katniss and Peeta but also me," she paused, struggling to maintain her anger as she paced to the other side of the room. "You rude, drunken, good for nothing-"

She paused and whirled around to Haymitch, who had taken it upon himself to have another drink of the wine. "Are you even listening to a word I'm saying?"

Haymitch blinked and looked up. He flashed her a charming smile. "Of course princess, something about me being, what was it again? A rude, drunken, good for nothing and so on? Well hey; at least I got my good looks".

Effie's eyes flashed angrily, her lips repressing a frustrating scream. "This isn't funny Haymitch. Honestly, why do I even bother?"

She spun on her heels and stormed into his room, taking the drunken man by surprise. "Oi, what're you doing?"

Effie flung his closet doors open and searched through his clothes with careful yet quick fingers. "Since you so conveniently missed this conference, I can't afford for you to miss seeing the press tonight. They'll be outside Katniss and Peeta's house in fifteen minutes. You're to be showered and changed in ten".

Shock froze his features. The last thing he wanted to do was attend another interview. Since the Victor Tour he just wanted to drink and sleep, but knew he had some responsibility to the kids. So repressing a sigh he ambled over to his room with wobbly steps. He tripped. The bottle of wine slipped from his fingers. Glass shattered across the floor as he came tumbling down face first onto the carpet, glass cutting into his chest.

Haymitch groaned in pain as he pushed himself up with his palms, examining the damage. Glass had cut through his shirt and into his skin, with jagged shards buried a little too deep for his liking into his chest.

Effie twirled around to the sudden noise, a surprised gasp escaping her pouted lips. Hurrying forwards she went to help Haymitch up, her eyes softening at the sight. In that moment her anger seemed to disappear as she helped him onto the bed, muttering about his drunkenness and foolishness under her breath. She flung him onto the bed and briefly examined him with her eyes, a small frown furrowing her face.

"Wait there," she instructed and quickly left the room.

Not like I have anywhere else to go, Haymitch thought, her ridiculous words never surprising him.

Effie returned shortly with a first aid kit. She sat on the edge of the bed and opened the kit, inspecting the utensils inside. She took out antibacterial cloths, a bottle of Neosporin and tweezers. Holding the utensils with one hand she crawled onto the bed, reaching for the buttons of his shirt.

"What're you doing?" Haymitch protested, swatting her fingers away.

Effie repressed an eye roll. "You're cuts need to be tended to otherwise they'll get infected."

Haymitch swatted her fingers away again, his mind frantically searching for a reason to get out of this uncomfortable situation. "Yes, but shouldn't you find a nurse instead?"

Effie huffed. "Honestly Haymitch it's not hard, I know what I'm doing-", she stopped, trying to get him to stop squirming. "Just…sit…still".

Effie quickly straddled his hips, locking his waist between her thighs. Ignoring Haymitch's protests she dropped her materials to the side and unbuttoned his shirt. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the sight. It wasn't just the bits of glass and cuts in his skin that caught her attention, but the various scars that seemed to cascade down his chest, faint, vicious scars that hadn't quite faded away.

"The Games," Haymitch muttered, noticing her drawn attention. "Knife fight with Two. Fortunately the guy wasn't too bright".

Effie bit her lip and nodded, pushing her gaze away from them. She reached for tweezers and took a deep breath, pulling the first piece of glass out. A groan stirred from Haymitch's body in response, but he lay still, letting her work. Effie cast him a sympathetic look, regretting her previous outburst at him. Reaching for the cloth she wiped the blood away and applied the cream on, glad that the cuts didn't need stitches. She could do the basics, but Haymitch was right. If they were any deeper she would've had to call for a nurse.

Effie repeated this process as she treated all of his wounds. Yet throughout this process her thoughts couldn't help but stray to what she had previously seen. Those dreadful scars. Throughout her time with Haymitch she had only ever seen him as a mentor, a mentor training his tributes to survive, a drunken idiot and at rare times, a friend. But she had never thought of him as a former tribute, just like Katniss and Peeta. The very thought of the pain he had gone through in the Games to have obtained those scars crushed her heart. The sudden feelings took her by surprise.

Effie shook her head slightly, breaking out of her thoughts. She wiped away the previous cut she had tended to and noticed his scars again, curving around the cut. Her eyes strayed off to the scars, her breath catching in her throat once more. Her fingers soon followed, tracing a path down his marks. Her eyes flickered down his sculpted torso to the golden hair that dusted his chest.

"Effie?"

Haymitch raised his eyebrows questioningly, watching the escort meet his eyes. He couldn't help but smile, amused at the small blush that rose in her cheeks. He watched her shake her head before getting back to work.

He couldn't deny it. This whole process was painful, and not just because of the cuts…throughout the process Haymitch tried to ignore the feeling of her center pressed against his, her thighs locked against his or her cool fingers that ran down his chest. He tried to ignore her rich perfume that enveloped his senses, rose water with a twist of peach. He tried to ignore the way the softest of her touch would send a small shiver down his spine. Somehow this woman was driving him crazy. Had it really been that long since he had been with someone?

Yes he had always found the woman attractive, (among other traits; irritating, overly bubbly, stubborn, loud, bossy, hot-tempered…) but Haymitch had never desired her. Yet this evening it seemed that his body was telling him something else.

"Haymitch".

She met his eyes, sympathy passing her features. "I'm afraid this particular shard will be…quite painful, and I couldn't find any painkillers," Effie paused, meeting his darkened eyes. "If you wish, I can call a nurse to come and treat this one. She may have anesthetic for you".

But Haymitch just shook his head, sending her a small smile. "Don't bother the nurse; you're doing a fine job sweetheart".

Effie returned the smile. She looked back down at the last shard of glass, the feelings returning back to her. The truth was that she didn't want to see Haymitch in any more pain. There had to be something she could do to numb the pain…something…anything…An idea slowly came to her. It was ludicrous, absolutely ridiculous, but she was certain that it would work. Yes, she'd regret it later. But it would work and that's all that mattered.

Taking a deep breath Effie reached for the tweezers and, resting her hands on the mattress to support her weight, she slowly lowered herself down to his level.

Haymitch's eyes widened in shock and awe. Every thought in his mind was urging him to leave, but he lay still, as if paralyzed. She was close now, so close that he could feel the galloping of her heart against his, feel her breath brush against his jaw and count every scale of glitter on her eyelashes….Slowly, achingly slow her lips enclosed around his.

He watched her eyes flutter shut as his soon did the same, his lips moving with hers. He drank in her taste, strawberries with a twist of spice, probably from the champagne she no doubt shared at one Capitol party or another. Something stirred within him – desire, maybe – that seemed to crave for her kisses. He soon found himself deepening the kiss, his lips growing more demanding with each breath they took.

Quickly Effie gripped the tweezers and pulled the last glass out with one swift motion. Haymitch yelped into her lips, their lips breaking apart. Effie cast him a worried glance as she reached for the cloth to wipe the blood away, before applying the soothing cream on.

"I'm sorry," she said softly as she finished rubbing the cream in. "I was hoping to distract you from the pain".

Haymitch nodded, averting his gaze from hers. He tried to hide the blush rising towards his cheeks. He had returned the kiss. Yet strangely enough, he didn't regret it one bit because god, could she kiss.

He looked up to see Effie picking out a crisp, white shirt and black pants. "It doesn't look like you have much time for a shower, they should be here now," she said, gesturing for him to dress with a tilt of her head.

Haymitch slipped from the bed and slid his shirt off. Effie modestly turned around and busied herself with straightening up the ornaments on his shelf as he changed, muttering about the health risks he'll have with all this dust. She turned around once he was dressed, her lips gracing into a small smile.

"There, now that's better".

Haymitch ignored her usual condescending tone.

Effie's features creased into a small frown when she glanced at his crooked, crinkled tie. Approaching him she unlaced the material and redid his tie, running her hand down the red material once she was satisfied.

"Perfect," she said softly, her hands lingering on his chest.

Her eyes flickered up to his. They both felt it. Desire, burning thick in the air like a toxic inferno and flickering within them like fire. Hunger to feel what they had felt not long ago; to take what they wanted so desperately.

"We-we're so very late," she muttered.

Haymitch ignored her comment, reaching for her hand that rested on his chest. He slid her knuckles down his jaw, brushing his lips against the smooth skin there and down towards her fingertips.

Effie's eyes fluttered under his touch, struggling to maintain composure. "Haymitch," she breathed, her heart skipping another precious beat. "We have to go".

Haymitch released her hand, meeting her arctic blue depths with his eyes, shadowed with desire. "I'm sure they can wait a few more minutes".

Taking a step forward he closed the space between them. Haymitch captured her lips in a passionate kiss that took her breath away.

All thoughts of etiquettes and her image diminished when he kissed her, her lips immediately responding. Her fingers crept up his shirt and skimmed over the curve of his neck, entangling her arms around his neck and pulling him in closer. She wanted to scream at him, but more than anything she wanted to scream at herself for giving in so easily. Yet his kisses seemed to light a flame that burst within her, lighting her on fire, burning for his touch. So she deepened the kiss, her teeth rolling daringly over his lower lip, her lips hungering for more.

Haymitch responded with a small growl, his tongue swiping along her lower lip and slipping inside. It intertwined with hers, twisting together like twisting vines, like lovers in a burning passion; they danced together. He felt her moan into his mouth, causing a small smirk to twitch at the corner of his lips.

Resting her hands on her waist Haymitch drove them both to the end of the room, slamming her into the open doorway so a picture frame on the wall nearby fell. She gasped into his mouth, anger flashing in her eyes as she glanced at the broken picture.

"Haymitch! You can't just-"

He pressed his lips against hers, silencing her with a kiss. "You…talk…too…much," he muttered between heated kisses.

Effie swallowed her sudden anger and nibbled hard into his lips instead, receiving another growl. Her fingers slid down his shoulders and unbuttoned his shirt, running down his torso. She enjoyed the way his muscles contracted underneath her hands.

Haymitch sucked her swollen lips once more before they left, trailing down to her jaw. His lips peppered a trail of kisses down her neck, stirring a small moan from her throat. He felt the woman tilt her head back, giving him more access to her neck. His lips were everywhere. On her pulse, her collarbone, the sensitive hallow in her throat…kissing, biting and sucking her skin. His hands soon wandered down, fingers caressing the side of her face, hands palming her breasts, sculpting her voluptuous curves.

Effie moaned deeper into his mouth. Clutching onto the front of his shirt she pulled him in closer, pressing his body against hers and melting into his embrace. She soon felt his fingers creep daringly up her legs, pushing her pencil skirt up her legs, his fingers tracing a path up her thighs and to the growing pool between her legs. Effie wrapped her leg around his waist in response as she felt his hips pushing up against hers, her body aching for his touch.

"HAYMITCH, IF YOU DON'T GET OUT HERE SOON-"

A horrified gasp rang throughout the room just as the couple sprang apart. Katniss stood in the hallway, her jaw dropped, petrified. It didn't take her long to realise what had happened. From Haymitch's unbuttoned shirt and lipstick stained skin, and Effie's lopsided wig and various bites and bruises amongst her neck Katniss knew the couple wouldn't be able to feign innocence. Guilty, horrified eyes stared back at her. Katniss took a step back, lowering her eyes. A deep blush tainted her frozen cheeks.

"Uh, Haymitch, I just came to say that Peeta and I did the interview already without you. But I'll leave you two alone…"

The couple was sure that in all their time having known Katniss and having watched her in the Games, they have never seen the girl run faster.

Effie took a steadying breath. She fixed up her lopsided wig and straightened down her skirt, before whirling around to Haymitch. She pounced on him like a rising storm.

"Is it too much for you to act civil for once?" A slap shot out to his face and Haymitch quickly shielded himself from her attacking hands. "Do you even know what the word etiquette means?"

"Hey, hey! If I recall sweetheart, you weren't complaining yourself".

But Effie ignored his comment. Somehow 'but you started it' didn't seem like the best reply. The realisation that there would be consequences for their actions was slowly dawning on her. Her eyes widened as she covered her mouth, horrified with herself. "Katniss saw us, what if she tells Peeta? Who else will know? What will they say? I can only begin to imagine the tabloids-"

Haymitch repressed a small chuckle at her frantic state. Honestly, he couldn't care less what the kids thought. Knowing Katniss she would want to put the memory in the back of her mind and never speak of it again, let alone tell anyone else. Yes, she would probably tell Peeta, but it would end there. He sat down on the edge of his bed and pulled out a bottle of whisky from underneath, taking a swig of the burning liquid.

"Take a seat and loosen your corset, Trinks," he said, receiving a burning glare. "Look, I missed the press but you heard Katniss, the two did fine without me," he paused, a suggestive glint returning to his eyes.

He sauntered over to Effie who stood firmly with her arms crossed, her eyes still glaring at him furiously, as if their entire discovery was his fault. "The way I see it is that Katniss and Peeta are gone, no one else knows where we are so," he continued slowly, snaking his arms around her waist. "We have some time up our sleeves".

"Oh no we don't," she smacked his hands away, pursing her lips together. "You need to go apologise to Katniss and Peeta for missing two of their interviews and I need to organise tomorrow evening's show with Caesar".

Effie strolled over to her handbag and reached for her phone, immediately dialing some numbers. She headed for the door before she stopped. It was as if something inside of her was urging her to turn around, to stay. Perhaps the aching desire between her legs wasn't letting her give up. She turned around.

"Haymitch," she called, a small smile tracing her lips. "I am free tonight …if you wish to come by".

She left her suggestion hanging in the air, leaving the room to make a call. Haymitch watched her leave, a small smile playing on his lips. He took another swing of whisky before he followed her out of the room to find the 'Star-Crossed" Lovers. After all, Effie looked serious when she had asked him to speak to them but more importantly, he didn't want to piss her off before he saw her again tonight.

Thanks so much for reading! I was going to leave it as a one shot, but depending on the number of reviews i may just write a sequel ;) Also i was gonna boost this up to m, but i felt that Effie, the prim and proper capital escort may have hesitated about giving in so easily, especially to the idea of being taken on the doorway. Anyway, please leave a review! Reviews are love 3