A/N: Currently I'm obsessed with the Hayffie canon and honestly can't get enough of them. So here's another fic! I hope you enjoy :)

Haymitch and Effie are young and have never met. They are both attending a high class, socialite party (Haymitch is there bc as a victor, its mandatory to attend.) They sit next to each other at a bar, Effie looks sad, Haymitch buys her a drink, they flirt. Haymitch brings her up to his room and then the real show goes on ;)

Haymitch was never really one for parties. They were always too loud and too crowded for his liking. And he could never go an hour without wanting to kill someone. However, the 50th Annual Victors' Gala was different. This time, it was celebrating his win in the second Quarter Quell of the Hunger Games. This time, everyone was adoring him. He got all the alcohol he wanted, he had privacy from the annoying Capitol citizens, and the ladies that attended weren't a sore sight either. Although Haymitch had been sitting at the same bar for what seemed like hours, he was actually enjoying himself. It could have been the fact that he was half drunk and all his senses were getting tipsy.

But he knew when he looked around the shining dance floor, that his eyes weren't deceiving him. He knew that he was seeing her perfectly clear. She was wearing a lavender, sequined dress with a white fur shawl. Her hair was neatly piled atop her head, covered in a faint layer of glitter. Her shoes—had to be murder on her feet, he thought—were pure white. She was standing on the dance floor awkwardly, constantly crossing and uncrossing her arms. She glanced around time after time, watching all the happy couples dancing in a circle around her. She made eye contact with Haymitch and waved, a small smile spreading on her face. He looked behind him, unsure who she was directing her greeting towards, and gave a half-hearted wave back.

She sauntered over to him, her shoulders were back and her chest was out. She looked confident enough to be able to barge into President Snow's office without a second thought. As soon as she was off the dance floor and within Haymitch's hearing range, her grin faded and was replaced by a frown.

"I'm sorry to just bother you like this—how rude of me," she scolded herself. Haymitch tried not to lose himself in her brilliant blue eyes. Before he could answer, she continued. "You must be waiting for someone…I should leave soon."

"No," he said suddenly. It must have been a little more forceful than he thought, because the woman sort of shrunk back. "I mean, no, I'm not waiting for someone." He offered a smile, which she returned shyly. The woman gestured to the open seat next to Haymitch.

"Do you mind if I sit for a little while? I promise I won't bother you." Haymitch nodded.

"Go right ahead," he said. She sat down and smoothed out her dress, adjusted her hair, and looked around. Suddenly, her eyes widened and she gasped.

"Oh, my God!" She cried out. "I forgot to introduce myself. How rude." She furrowed her eyebrows, but extended a friendly hand for Haymitch to shake. "I'm Effie Trinket. I'm from the Capitol, and next year I'm going to work as an escort for the Hunger Games." She beamed while explaining this to him. He took her hand and shook it.

"Well, Effie Trinket, I'm Haymitch," said Haymitch. Effie looked puzzled.

"What about your last name?" She asked, confused.

"Last names aren't important."

Haymitch hoped that she would leave it at that. And she did. With her muttering about rudeness and manners, he assumed she thought it impolite to press the subject with a man she just met. Normally, Haymitch would be revolted when a Capitol woman came within five feet of him, but Effie was…different. He didn't want to admit it, but there was something about her…

"Again, I'm sorry about that whole fiasco," Effie interrupted his thoughts, referring to the wave she threw him on the dance floor. "I was planning on coming to this party with a date, but he rejected at the last minute." She looked morose. "I'd already bought the tickets, and it wouldn't help to waste money, so I came alone. As you can tell from that idiotic wave I gave you, it was a very dumb idea." Haymitch shook his head.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart," he smirked at her. "I'm here alone, too."

"But," Effie protested, "surely you had to have had a date. I mean a man like you—" She stopped and realized she had gone too far. Her cheeks turned a nasty shade of crimson and she ducked her head. Luckily for her, the bartender came up to take their order.

"Anything to drink?" The man asked Haymitch. Haymitch nodded.

"I'll have your strongest whiskey," he then pointed to Effie, "and she'll have your finest wine." Effie whipped her head up.

"It'll be just a minute," the bartender said, with a slight groan in his voice.

"Haymitch!" Effie, half-whispered, half-cried. "You didn't have to order me a drink. I was just about to leave and…and…it'll cost you a fortune." Haymitch waved her claim away.

"Don't worry about it, Effie. I get everything for free here," he retorted. Effie sat back in her seat, her hand drooping and her lips pouting.

"How do you get everything without paying?!" She sounded shocked. "Wait a minute, are you—"

"Looks like our drinks are here," Haymitch interrupted, handing Effie a glass of dark, red wine. He would do everything in his power to not let her figure out that he was the victor of the Quarter Quell. She was acting so friendly towards him, and he didn't want that to change. They sipped their drinks in silence. Haymitch tried to restrain himself with only two drinks—he didn't want Effie knowing about his addiction. Yet.

After a while, Effie became more comfortable in the presence of Haymitch, and vice versa. They were getting a little woozy from the alcohol, but they were still able to logically talk to each other. Minutes turned into hours, and they started to get a little friendlier to the other. Throughout their talking process, Effie had inched her seat closer and closer to Haymitch, until she could comfortably place a hand on his chest. Haymitch responded by holding her hand in place.

"What's this for?" He asked tiredly. He looked down at his chest, the painted, pristine nails of Effie against his rough, chipped ones.

"Oh, you know," Effie smiled sloppily, her blue eyes dilated to the extreme. "You might get…heart…problems with all this alcohol. I need to be able to feel if something is wrong." That was a lame excuse in Haymitch's opinion. But he decided to play along.

"Sweetheart, your hand is on the wrong side. And besides, it wouldn't be the alcohol that makes my heart stop," he leaned in and whispered into her ear. She blushed and giggled. He took his hand off of hers and let it drop to her thigh. He leaned in closer, until his lips brushed against her cheek. "Why don't we," he began, and Effie shivered underneath, "continue this in my room?" He suggested.

"Okay," Effie said nonchalantly. She got up and grabbed Haymitch's hand. "Lead the way." Haymitch brought her to the nearest elevator and pushed the button to the twelfth floor. Effie was leaning against the railing on the wall, catching her breath.

She's drunk, Haymitch thought to himself. She obviously couldn't keep her balance on her own, and she was laughing at silly things like strands of hair that dangled around her face. Haymitch assumed that she wasn't used to drinking, considering she only drank a glass and a half of wine. The bell dinged in the elevator, and not to Haymitch's surprise, Effie giggled. He grabbed her hands once more and brought her into the giant living room. As they walked to the couch, she tripped in her six inch heels. Her arms immediately clung to Haymitch's neck, dragging him down with her.

"Careful, sweetheart," Haymitch grunted, helping her back up. She grinned sheepishly at him. "Why don't we…take these off, hmm?" He went from under her and swept her off her feet. She gave a little squeal of delight and kicked off her heels like a child. Haymitch plopped her back down and let her regain her balance.

"Mmm, Haymitch," Effie said, swinging her arms around his neck once more. She bit her lip and looked him in the eyes. "You have…such a nice place." Her words were jumbled together, but Haymitch understood her just the same. He smiled and put his hands on her waist.

"I know," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her. Is was a quick kiss, but Haymitch could tell that Effie was begging for more. She let out a whining sound when he pulled away. "Calm down, princess," he told her, chuckling. "Let's just move this somewhere private." Effie nodded reluctantly and clung to Haymitch as he led her upstairs to the main bedroom in the penthouse. Once they were inside, he closed the door. "Well, sweetheart, what should we do—" he turned around to face Effie, only to see her pulling pins out of her wig and throwing them on the nightstand. She caught him staring and smirked. Before responding, she yanked off the lavender wig and tossed it to the side. Blonde hair came cascading down her shoulders, hanging in ringlets around her face. If there was a way for Haymitch to be attracted to Effie more, she found a way to do it. His breath hitched and she stepped closer to him.

"Shall we get to it then?" She whispered in the sexiest voice a drunk person could muster. She barely got the words out before Haymitch crashed his lips onto hers. He felt her moan against his mouth as they deepened the kiss. Instinctively, he combed her hair with his fingers, and let his hands trail down her arms. Effie reached up and started to undo the buttons of Haymitch's shirt. She did it with efficiency and care, trailing her fingertips down his chest after each loose button. After Haymitch felt his shirt fall to the ground, he brought his hands to the back of her silk dress. It took him a moment to find the zipper, but when he did, he brought it down with deliberate slowness. Effie shuddered underneath his touch, feeling his cool hands sliding down her back. When she was unzipped, the dress came off so fast he thought it would rip. Effie threw it to the side and wrapped her arms around Haymitch, nuzzling her head into the crook between his collarbone and shoulder. They walked to the bed together and laid under the covers side by side. Effie could still feel Haymitch's fingers exploring her body when he leaned over and placed soft kisses from her temple to her shoulders.

"Let's get to it, then," Haymitch whispered against her soft skin.

. . . . . . . . . .

Haymitch felt Effie breathing heavily beside him. He never thought a Capitol woman could act like that under the sheets. He never even expected her to continue the conversation they had at the bar. He was coming back to his senses, and he expected Effie to be doing the same. Haymitch smirked to himself as he felt Effie snuggle up against his side. He was happy with the result of the night—both of them were lonely, both drunk, and neither were bad looking. He wondered if Effie felt as he did.

"Haymitch!" Effie inhaled sharply and sat upright. She startled him, causing him to bump his head against the headboard. "Sorry," she added quickly after watching him rub the back of his head, wincing. "You're just as aware as I am of what we just did, correct?" Haymitch nodded. Effie looked panicked. "No, no, no, no, no. I shouldn't have done this. Haymitch, I'm so sorry." He felt his heart drop.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, confused. Effie turned to him as if the answer should be obvious.

"I am a Capitol woman. I shouldn't be waltzing around, sleeping with every guy who I meet. Especially a man from…from…the districts." She said the last part as if it were a sin. Haymitch only took slight offense; he couldn't agree with her more that district members weren't the most civilized.

"Effie, we were both drunk. It wasn't entirely your fault," Haymitch tried to soothe her. She whipped her head to the corner where her purple dress and wig were lying in a heap. Her hands flew to her hair, grabbing dirty blonde strands.

"No!" She wailed. "You can't see me like this. I—I look hideous." Haymitch was getting bothered with her attitude.

"You need to calm down. Nothing bad happened. We were drunk." He repeated once more. Effie looked at him with a pitiful look in her eyes, tears developing.

"I'm sorry, Haymitch, I have to go. I'm truly glad I met you, I just can't be in this situation." Effie stood from the bed and started walking to her clothes. He grabbed her wrist lightly.

"What situation?" His eyes stared into hers, watching them glisten with tears.

"I just met you last night. It's not normal for me to sleep with someone on the first date. No. It wasn't even a date. It was a casual conversation and we got drunk and—"

"If you're worried that someone is going to find out, then don't. Nobody is going to suspect anything. You're an intern that hasn't even begun her job yet. The news isn't going to revolve around you. And I don't have many friends. I've tried to stay alone most of my life. But that's not the point. The point is that I won't tell a soul." Haymitch said truthfully and fiercely. Effie looked back at him, tears silently rolling down her cheeks.

"And I believe you. I just…I'm not ready for this right now," Effie said sadly. She looked at the ground and tried to avoid his stare. "Here," she grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and started to write down all her information. "If you ever want to talk or call me or see me, this is my information." She tore the little triangle off and handed it to him. She then proceeded to lean down and give him a kiss. A slow, real kiss that seemed to last forever. When she pulled back, her eyes were red and puffy. "I'm sorry." She said, barely audible. Slipping into a bathrobe and picking up her own dress, she left his bedroom without another word.

Haymitch listened for the elevator to ding and the very soft whoosh that followed, signifying that Effie was gone. He looked at the paper and felt his face getting hot. He crumpled the paper and threw it at the wall, a mix of emotions raging inside of him. Effie was right. She was a socialite princess from the Capitol and he was just another face from the districts. He would never, ever see her again.