The characters of The Hunger Games Trilogy do not belong to me.

Thank you to Chelzie for being an awesome beta—and getting this done!

Lazy

By JLaLa

"Haymitch! Get the camera—I finally have them all cleaned up and ready!"

She was always about the pictures.

Grumbling, Haymitch sat up from his recliner and walked over to the small side table across the room. The drawer of the second hand table creaked as he reached in and grabbed their ancient camera—Effie had paid five dollars for the damn thing.

She was frugal when she wanted to be.

Stepping outside, he watched her fuss over the six wriggling children. From the tallest to the smallest, Effie went through and wiped any smudges from their faces, then fixed their hair.

"Effie, why do we have to do this?" Annie, the smallest of the bunch, asked. Her large green eyes peeked through dark, unruly hair which Effie was always trying to fix. It always looked slightly disheveled no matter what she did.

"Because I want to take a picture of my children," Effie replied cheerily and kissed her forehead. "It's a big,big,big day for us!"

They had tried for five years before the doctors had told them that Effie couldn't conceive. She took it with a gentle smile that faded quickly when they went to bed that same night. His heart broke for her but he would've been a shitty father anyway.

But Effie would've made a damn fine mother.

So they decided to open a foster home. He had suggested it—because he couldn't stand to hear her cry.

"Can we get this over with?" Gale, the tallest one, stomped his feet. He wasn't the oldest but his hard glare made everyone quiet down.

"Alright, alright, darling boy," Effie said soothingly as she walked to him. Putting her arm around the boy's shoulders, she looked over at Haymitch and gave him a dazzling smile. "You can take the picture."

"Okay." Haymitch moved an eye over the viewer. "Say 'cheese' or some shit like that!"

"Haymitch-no cursing! Little ears!"

He loved teasing her.

"CHEESE!" The kids bellowed.

CLICK.

TEN YEARS LATER

Effie always thought he was lazy. But with her now gone, he set out to prove her wrong.

Looking over the foreclosure letter again, he took another swig of bourbon before crumbling the piece of paper and throwing it to the ground.

Snow was finally getting what he wanted—he was closing the last foster home in the District. Now all homeless, parentless children of Panem would be going to a state of the art 'facility' in the Capitol.

Facility—more like a prison.

When Effie read the news last year, it was the beginning of the end for her. The cancer that grew in her spread like wildfire in only three months and before he knew it—she was gone.

He could hardly breathe thinking about it.

There were only three children left in his care: Rory, Primrose, and Rue. He loved them all the best he could, but he had very little help from the Capitol so the place was going to shit.

Looking over at the bare spot where his wedding ring was, Haymitch felt his eyes burn. He had to sell it—Prim was getting a cough. They needed the medicine and some soup.

Putting his head down on the desk, he tried to stop the overwhelming need to open another bottle.

He didn't want to think anymore.

"Get off your ass and do something, lazybones!"

He sat up quickly and looked around—she still haunted him. His eyes caught a glint of gold—a picture frame in the corner of their office. Unsteadily, he pushed himself up from the worn desk chair and walked over to it.

The color on the picture had faded, but her smile still shone through.

He knew what he had to do.

He had to find them.

When Haymitch found his way back to his desk, he pulled out a legal pad and began writing his list:

Johanna Mason

Gale Hawthorne

Annie Cresta

Finnick Odair

Peeta Mellark

Katniss Everdeen

Johanna Mason was the easiest to find. She had made her fortune in the Capitol as a computer programmer. Effie had been quite proud of the tough-as-nails girl.

Haymitch knew better.

Johanna was clever—always had been since she had come to them years ago.

Her family had been killed because her father made some shady deals with some very rich businessmen. She was in school when they told her that her mother, father and younger brother were burned alive in their small home.

Now she was getting her revenge.

"Mr. Abernathy?" the receptionist called out to him. "Miss Mason will see you now."

Standing up, he gave the receptionist a nod before opening the door and entering the swanky office. The room smelled faintly of burnt wood with floor to ceiling windows on each side of the room.

And there before him stood Johanna—with her razor sharp bob and black business suit.

"Well, I'll be damned," she said, her voice low and teasing. "I never thought I'd see you in the Capitol."

Rushing over, Johanna threw her arms around him and he was engulfed in the exotic scent that she wore. It was like opium.

"You're looking good, kid," he replied with a small smile. "And I can see that you're doing well."

"More than okay—actually," she informed him with a grin. "Just acquired a new client—now that Cray has been let go."

"Cray?" Haymitch guffawed as he sat in the plush chair in front of her. "He was practically running this building—what the hell happened?"

Johanna sat on her desk across from him and smiled benignly.

"Let's just say someone found some rather confidential information on his hard drive."

There it was. Johanna was always obsessed with breaking things open and putting them together. Effie would buy her books about building things, especially electronics. Before she was taken from them, Johanna knew how to fix and disassemble anything in their house.

She also had a nasty habit of hacking into computers—and found some rather risqué photos that he had taken with Effie during their newlywed days.

"So what can I do for you?" she asked with her arms crossed.

"Effie's gone, you know," he told her softly. Johanna gasped and Haymitch saw the hard façade fade from her body. "It's been about a year."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"She didn't want any of the kids to know," Haymitch said. "My last three kids are heartbroken—they lost their mama and so did you. Also, Snow is closing our place down."

Her eyes hardened immediately. "Damned if I'll ever let that happen."

Johanna agreed with his plan right away.

He thought the next one would be harder to find. Fortunately, Johanna managed to "find" some Capitol files with his last known address.

Walking over to the back of the building, Haymitch knocked twelve times—and the door opened quickly.

"What do you want?" the tall, olive skinned man asked. He was dressed in a shirt that was way too tight for his bulging muscles and the glare of the light from the inside shone on his bald head.

"Tell your boss that the 'Victor' is here," he replied.

When Gale was a kid, he loved to play chess with Haymitch. He was obsessed with winning.

Especially since every win got him a dollar from his foster father.

His family had been dirt poor—they had all been taken by pneumonia when Gale had come to them. He was a surly boy and was constantly in need of something.

He always needed more hugs from Effie or more food than the other kids.

Gale knew how to get what he wanted.

By the time he was taken from them, Gale could ramble off probability stats for any sports team or any race like a pro. He also never lost a game against any of the kids. Finnick and Gale almost killed each other over a game of football once.

But he never won a chess game against Haymitch—so the older man was forever the 'Victor' to him.

The security guard spoke into his headset then turn to him right away. "Go right in, sir."

"Thanks—what's your name?"

"Brutus." The man wasn't so scary now—there was a hint of fear in his eyes.

Strolling past the guard, he walked down the hallway towards the singular door. Before he could knock, Haymitch heard the familiar drawl of Gale Hawthorne's voice.

"Come in already!"

Opening the door, Haymitch was greeted by the handsome, tanned man who was once his foster son. Gale jumped from his seat and rushed over to him.

"Haymitch! You son of a bitch! How the hell are you?" His face lit up as he lifted the older man in a robust hug.

Damn, Gale was strong.

The room was plain. Grey walls and no windows—but there were television screens –three to each wall that were playing some sort of game or track race.

"I'm great, boy," Haymitch replied affectionately. "What the hell do you have here?"

"Just doing what I do best—winning."

It was then that Haymitch noticed that they weren't alone. A nervous young man sat on the couch adjacent to them.

He was a handsome fellow—golden haired and chiseled but there was something in his eyes.

"I was just telling Gloss here about how easy it is to win," Gale said. "You see, Gloss is in love but the girl of his dreams is a little out of his league. A debutante, right?"

"Yeah," Gloss replied breathlessly. "Enobaria Franklin."

"Oh, I've seen her in the Capitol magazine—she's a beaut." Gale walked over to the couch and put an arm around Gloss.

Haymitch knew Gale's game and he tried to keep a straight face.

"You give me that thousand and I turn it to millions," Gale continued. "Imagine it-you could give that girl everything she wants and her family will BEG you to marry her."

Gale sure knew how to paint a pretty picture when he wanted to.

"Cash or check?" Gloss asked, his eyes suddenly glowing with excitement.

"Cash—best not to trace anything back to you."

The deal was done in ten seconds and Gloss was gone—dreaming of the wedding that would probably never happen.

"How much did you make off that boy?" Haymitch asked, once they were alone.

"Probably about two mil," Gale replied off-handedly. "I heard what happened with Snow—I'm in."

That's why he liked Gale—no hesitation as long as he got something out of it—money, power, as long as it was in his favor.

"Want to play a game?" Haymitch asked after he explained his plan.

Gale reached under the couch and pulled out Haymitch's old chess set, then grinned at him.

"Thought you'd never ask."

"I knew that buying that chemistry set would come in handy."

Haymitch wasn't surprised that Annie Cresta had become such a beautiful woman. She was always a pretty little girl.

The problem was that her Daddy thought that she was real pretty, too.

She came to them slightly jittery on a cold November night with only a torn dress and bruises on her wrists—restraints from the old man. For the first six months, no one but Effie could touch her. Effie had been patient with the little girl and slowly Annie had opened up to each of them.

Annie, however, always needed to please people and coddle them. She made Johanna anything that she wanted to eat, or helped Finnick with his homework even when instructed not to.

"Haymitch!" Annie gave him a shaky laugh and rushed into his arms. She was still a tiny thing.

"How you doing, sweetheart?"

This part of the kitchen was all Annie's—no one was allowed in because of the sensitivity of the ingredients.

At least, that's what the staff told the patrons of 'Waves Bistro'.

"I'm alright." Annie pulled away after a moment. She patted down her messy hair and his eyes burned thinking about how Effie fussed over that hair. "I missed you though—and Effie, too. Where is she?" The woman looked around for her mother.

"I'm sorry, Annie, but we lost her a year ago."

He waited for her to react and Haymitch could see her wringing her hands. Annie trembled for a moment and then took a breath—she did this often as a kid.

"Was it quick?" she asked in a shaky voice.

"It was—and she didn't want any of you rushing over to her," he said and pulled her in for another hug. "She would be so proud of you. Look at everything that you've done for yourself."

"I'm not so sure that she would be," Annie told him.

The success of 'Waves' was overwhelming. The reservation list was booked for six months in advance and the people of the Capitol were paying huge amounts to eat at Annie's restaurant.

They just weren't sure why. All they knew was that wanted more.

Besides cooking—Annie seemed to be very interested in one other thing as a child—mixing. She loved to combined liquids and powders to see what would happen. There was always a willing participant in the house.

How Finnick never got sick was beyond him.

"Annie, what is all this?" He looked around at the containers of white powder on the tall racks.

No labels, but Haymitch knew that Annie did this for a reason.

Everything she created was memorized in her head. It was the only thing that kept her sanity intact.

"I give them what they want," Annie whispered to him.

Taking his hand, she led him to the windows of her office. Below them, Haymitch could see the filled tables. All of the plates were either empty or quickly in the process of being eaten. The customers couldn't get enough.

It reminded him of a pig feeding—the way they ate.

"You see that man over there?" She pointed to the dark haired man with impeccably designed beard. "He wants to feel powerful—and so I make him feel powerful. Those guests of his are eating a meal that was designed to make them respect him—and fear him. I made that happen."

"Why do you do it?"

"Because I like to make people happy-and people will pay a lot for happiness," Annie told him as she met his eyes. "As long as I can create, then I'll be okay."

He could see inside her—the need to control those around her by indulging them.

The quiet people are sometimes the scariest ones.

"Whatever you want, I'm in," she continued after a moment. "It's what Effie would've wanted."

He patted her head affectionately and kissed her forehead. "When are you ever going to fix this hair of yours?"

"Probably never—Effie always liked it messy. She just never told anyone."

"You know that you forgot to deactivate the security cameras, right?"

Finnick gave Haymitch a winning grin as he closed the door behind him. "I'm sure that you fixed that right up for me."

"Who was in that room?" the older man asked as they walked down the hall. Finnick adjusted his leather gloves before turning to him. The boy grew up to be pretty good looking—bronze and chiseled, just how the Capitol ladies like their men.

Finnick aimed to please. Most of all, he pleased himself.

His mother had been an 'entertainer' herself.

When she was killed by a client during a session, Finnick had come to them. He slept under his bed for months because he was used to hiding under his mother's bed while she amused her guests in any way she could.

His mother's popularity was due to her golden looks and golden charms. She had passed it on to her son.

Finnick was very popular with the older Capitol women.

But Haymitch knew that he was looking for something more, he was looking for the mother he had lost in them.

"A rather nice lady who needed to talk," Finnick replied easily as they got to the elevator.

When they got in, Haymitch made sure that red light of the camera was off. Their security office was very easily accessible and the guards were probably making a fortune by doing nothing.

After all, discretion was key in the Capitol.

When the elevator opened, Finnick led him outside of the crystalline high-rise and down the block. The two didn't speak because even the streets weren't safe against Snow's people.

Out of all of the kids, Finnick didn't seem to care much about what other people thought. He just did his own thing, which mostly consisted of trying to get one of the girls to give him a kiss.

Haymitch reckoned that he got something from at least one of them.

They reached a brownstone home and Finnick unlocked the door to let them in. When the door was closed and locked, the young man led him to the living room.

He couldn't believe his eyes. Picture frames filled the shelves along with other mementos, they were practically overflowing.

Finnick went to a shelf and pulled out a pair of bronzed baby shoes from his pocket then placed it carefully inside.

"What the fuck is all this?" Haymitch asked in shock.

"Keepsakes from my clients," the younger man informed him. Finnick passed a mirror and fixed a tendril of his golden hair before turning to Haymitch. "What did you need?"

"None of these ladies have said anything?"

"What do you suppose they would tell their husbands?" Finnick replied as he went to the bar next to the window. "That the hot piece of ass that fucks them took a pair of bronze baby shoes? " He poured a glass of amber liquid from an unlabeled bottle then walked over to Haymitch. "Bourbon, right?"

Haymitch gulped it quickly then sat on the leather couch next to him. "That's sick."

Finnick joined him. "I have to do what I have to do to survive," Finnick said as he met his foster father's eyes.

Haymitch could see it then—his desperation.

Finnick held it all inside that gloriously used body of his.

"Effie's gone, you know," Haymitch told him.

Finnick went silent as he stared straight ahead at the collection in front of them. Getting up, he went to the fireplace and took something from it.

When he sat down, Finnick placed a familiar wooden earring on the coffee table in front of them.

He grinned—she was always looking for that earring. "That's mahogany, you know."

Finnick smiled back at him. "I know. It was the first memento I ever collected."

Haymitch knew he would say yes.

He needed Peeta to get the last one.

Peeta Mellark was the smallest of the boys. His mother had locked him in their basement after his father's death—she couldn't stand that he looked like the man she lost. He had been so malnourished when he came to them that Effie sold any jewelry she could to buy the supplements he needed to catch up to the others.

In time, he eventually grew taller than the girls; he wasn't muscular like Gale, nor was he chiseled like Finnick. He had, however, a handsome, youthful charm to him that made him popular with the girls.

Peeta was always wanting, however.

Haymitch and Effie worried about him the most—he never really caught up with any of the other kids. There was nothing that seemed to strike his fancy.

When he was taken, Peeta asked for nothing except for three minutes with Katniss.

The girl never told anyone what they talked about. Stubborn chit.

The garage was empty when he walked in but he could hear the clanking of metal coming from the back.

"Peeta?" he called out. "It's Haymitch!"

The clanking stopped and Haymitch was surprised to see the man in front of him.

Peeta had changed.

He was broad with strong arms and had grown several inches since he left them. Effie would've been so happy to see him looking like this. She had tried so hard to give him what he needed.

Peeta walked over to him with an excited smile. "I can't believe it!"

The two embraced and Peeta led him through the back of the garage to his office.

"Looks like you're doing well," Haymitch remarked as he closed the office door.

"Well, I'm not running a restaurant like Annie or being the Capitol hunk like Finnick, but I'm good," Peeta replied and Haymitch could hear the strain in his voice. "I'm sorry about Effie—I heard about it but I knew she would call if she really wanted us there."

"You know she wanted you to remember her the way she was," he said to the boy. "I need your help, Peeta."

"What could I possibly do to help you?" Peeta asked, pain in his eyes. "I'm nothing special—nothing really."

"Holy hell—Effie would smack your face if you said that in front of her!"

"She would, wouldn't she?" Peeta smiled to himself as he thought of her motherly speeches. "I'm not rich or smart like the others, so I don't know what I could do."

Haymitch placed a hand on his shoulder and looked into the blue eyes that Effie always said were Peeta's best feature.

"You could go get her."

"Let's make a dream for you

I just wanna be myself now

Hey, keep dreaming…

Get in and lose it!

Don't stop driving…"

Peeta walked around the crowded club, pushing past scantily clad girls entertaining guests. The smell of sweat and powder was everywhere.

He had never been to 'The Mockingjay'.

The thousand dollar cover charge had been provided by Johanna—he had never had that much money in his bank account.

The morning after his meeting with Haymitch, he had woken up to a million dollars in his bank account for 'car repairs' and a text on his phone saying that he should probably get some new clothes.

He needed to look rich.

Peeta had never asked for much.

He only wanted one thing—her.

The Mockingjay.

That's what they called her.

Sitting down in a small booth, Peeta looked for her. He had heard rumors that she could do things that made men fall to their knees.

They opened their hearts as well as wallets for her.

"What can I get you, dollface?" He looked up to see a petite blond in a pure white corset and boy shorts. She looked like she could've been his sister. "I'm Madge and I'll be your waitress."

"I'm looking for someone." He looked around. "I'm looking for her."

Madge nodded quickly. "Well, I'm going to need your photo ID and credit card before I can do any of that."

Hesitantly, he reached into his wallet and pulled out the cards. Quickly, he pulled out one more thing and handed it to Madge.

She raised her brows. "What the hell is this?"

"She'll know."

Madge walked off quickly. The club was packed and he looked around at the caged dancers, then to the filled dance floor.

Katniss hated to dance. Effie always tried to teach them, but Katniss was determined to not do it. He still remembered the way her two braids would swing violently as she shook her head.

"Come with me." He looked up to see Madge staring at him oddly.

Quickly, Peeta stood up and joined her. Madge took his hand and led him away from the dance floor to a dark corridor where softer music played.

These were the private entertainment rooms.

The last room, Room 12, was hers.

Madge opened the door for him and he walked inside.

"Enjoy," she said with a wink before closing the door behind her.

He looked around at the fiery red of the walls. It looked like blood. Katniss never talked about what had brought her to the home. Haymitch and Effie just brought her in one night.

She was covered in a bright red sheet and nothing else.

"Hey."

He turned to see her grey eyes staring at him. Peeta dreamed of those eyes for years.

Yes, he had wanted her for years. Peeta imagined how she would look like now and those were the most torturous nights for him. He would wake up covered in sweat and achingly hard at the thought of her grey eyes.

Nothing compared to the sight before him, thick chocolate hair that fell against her soft shoulders and curves that were emphasized perfectly by the tightly woven black corset she wore under the matching silk robe.

"Hey," he greeted back. "How are you?"

"You didn't pay fifty thousand dollars to talk to me," Katniss said as she walked towards him. "No one talks to me."

"I'm here to talk to you," Peeta replied easily as she led him to a plush chair in the middle of the room. As she slid off the robe, he could see that the cups of the corset barely held her breasts in. "Haymitch is looking for you."

Katniss straddled him and he tried not to focus on her forceful grind—or the heat coming from in-between the apex of her thighs.

"Listen to me," she whispered against his ear. "We can't talk here—they're everywhere."

The warmth of her breath against his ear made him twitch. "Then where and when?"

Her hands reached behind his neck so that she could hold on to him as she danced. Katniss smiled softly and for a moment he saw the girl he knew.

Peeta pushed his pelvis against hers and he was surprised when she let out a quiet groan. She cocked an eyebrow at him and his hands went to her hips as he brushed his now hard length against the barely there thong she wore.

"Tell me," he urged as he gripped her hips roughly.

"In the back—ten minutes!" Katniss replied and her eyes closed as she pushed against him.

When she opened them again, Peeta could see them clouded over with lust as she gasped for breath. "You play a wicked game."

"You started it," he countered. "Is this what they come for?"

"They pay because I know how to make them feel good," Katniss told him as she moved against him. "I bring it out of them."

"What?" His hand traveled in-between her thighs without hesitation.

The slick heat of his fingers in her reminded him of the three minutes he had asked for before he left her alone.

"Power, lust, fear, whatever makes them feel like they can run the world."

"And what about you?" He pushed in deeper and his thumb found her clit. Peeta's lips found her neck and his mouth tasted the skin he dreamt about for years. "What makes you come?"

She still tasted the same.

"I have my memories," she said softly into his neck.

Peeta felt her clamp down against his fingers and the rush of heat against his hand.

"Good girl, let it out," he whispered against her ear as she hissed her orgasm into his. "I'll see you outside. I'm going to call Haymitch and let him know you're in."

Gently, Peeta let his fingers slide out of her as he helped her stand up.

Peeta's fingers quickly went to his mouth so that he could taste her. It was as sweet as he imagined.

His eyes traveled to the Mockingjay pin that he had given Madge to give to her. It sat nicely in-between the dip of the sweetheart line of the corset.

Katniss met his eyes and grinned. "Damn you, Peeta Mellark."

"I did it, Eff," Haymitch said as he placed the bouquet of sunflowers on top of her tombstone. "You always thought I was a lazy bastard but I'm going to save our home. And I know you never thought I cared for the little ones, but I did. Every single one of them—but I wish I could've done better for you."

His eyes watered thinking of her last smile—so gentle and serene.

"She never thought you were lazy."

Haymitch turned to see Johanna walking towards him along with Gale. They both carried bouquets of flowers which they placed in front of her stone.

"Effie just knew how to push your buttons," Gale said as he reached into the bag he carried on his shoulder and pulled out a bottle of champagne. "She knew how to make you do things without you knowing it. She was the real mastermind."

"I guess I wasn't the only one who remembered." Finnick joined them with a jovial smile. He took out the mahogany earring and placed it on top of the tombstone. "Hey, Effie—sorry for taking your earring. I just wanted something to remember my Mom by."

Haymitch put an arm around him. "Glad you came." He nodded at Johanna and Gale. "All of you."

"Sorry, I'm late." Annie arrived breathlessly and hugged him. "Had to run an errand."

She placed a box in his hand and he hesitated before opening it.

The ring still looked new to him despite the many scratches it held. Each scratch held a memory of her and their years together.

"What did we miss?" The group turned to find Peeta and Katniss walking towards them. Their hands were entwined tightly and Haymitch grinned—he knew Peeta would bring her back.

"Hey, Mockingjay," Finnick teased, though his smile fell slightly seeing Annie staring at him disapprovingly.

"None of that," Peeta said to him. "She's just Katniss to us—none of that Mockingjay shit."

"Looks like someone grew some balls," Johanna remarked with a smirk.

"Can we just toast already?" Gale stomped his foot and then looked down at the tombstone he was standing on. "Sorry—uh, Mr. Jones."

Annie handed out the cups and Gale poured.

When they were topped off, Haymitch looked around at the group. At their children.

"It's going to be a big, big, big day," he started, quoting his late wife. "And we've got a lot of work to do, but we're going to do it. For Effie."

They toasted in agreement and Haymitch gulped it down quickly before meeting their eyes again.

"Let the games begin."

Song:

"Dream Racer"-4Minute

Yes, this will be my next story. I love a good heist.

-JLaLa