As requested, the continuation...

Part II

74th Games

Ever since he was cursed with this great insight into Effie's mind, Haymitch had never bothered with the train schedule to know when Effie Trinket would be arriving. As it happened, this year, he was in the kitchen looking for an unopened bottle of liquor when her voice went off like a bell in his head.

He groaned out loud. His few weeks of hell was about to start.

Everything has to be proper for the tributes. I will arrive in fifteen minutes and that will give me half an hour to inspect the stage at the square. I better check that bar cart before Haymitch board this train later. Best not to have it fully stocked.

Haymitch grind his teeth. Trust her to meddle with his drinks.

Where should I hide these bottles? Think, Trinket, where's the one place that he would never look?

He smirked. Go on then, think hard because it's not going to matter much to me anyway.

Ah, yes, this is a perfect hiding spot. He's never going to be able to find it here. Very good, Trinket. How smart of you.

He could almost taste her self-satisfaction from where he was. Haymitch gripped the edges of the kitchen counter, willing her to think about where she had hid those bottles to clue him in. While he knew that she would leave some bottles for him on the bar cart, it was not going to be enough for the journey to the Capitol.

Oh, nearly there now. Let me just run by the schedule one last time.

"For fuck's sake!" he exclaimed in frustration when it was clear that her thoughts had moved on to other things."When I want her to think of something she doesn't," he mumbled, "but when I needed her to shut up she's there thinking about everything under the damn sun. Stupid, stupid, woman."

XxX

Haymitch was already drunk when the Peacekeepers came knocking on his door a few hours later. They held him up by his arms and marched him to the Square where he saw Effie on the stage looking like a pink flamingo.

Drunk, again. Do I actually need to sacrifice a pair of my precious heels for Haymitch to attend the Reaping sober at least once? But on the bright side, he isn't late. Take that and be grateful, Trinket. That's more than you can ask from him. No… Where is he going? What – Why is he walking towards me?

Having crossed the stage towards where she was standing, Haymitch threw his arms around her in front of the crowd, giving her what he hope was a hug. He lived to annoy her and this was one of the ways to do so. Besides, he wanted to know how she would react to a hug after that kiss last year. Haymitch had spent the last few hours in her presence before his train departed for Twelve trying to maintain a nuetral expression because each time he looked at her, he remembered how she had thought of him naked in her bed

My wig! I will kill him. Oh, this horrid, abominable man! I will stab him in the eye with the pointy end of my heels. How dare he! We're on national television.

Oh dear, the entirety of Panem has seen that. What a disaster! This is an embarrassment. People are going to talk and District Twelve will be the laughing stock as it always is.

Haymitch staggered back when she pushed him off. He pretended to look confused to keep her from losing her temper and it worked because Effie closed her mouth and pressed her lips together. Still, it didn't stop him from checking out her shoes warily before he slunk back to his assigned seat.

Effie reaped Primrose Everdeen. And that year, they have a volunteer.

A volunteer? I – I don't know what to do. The protocol –

Haymitch closed his eyes. Of all the time that Effie decided to be unsure of herself, it had to be today. What does it matter what the protocol for a volunteer was? The longer the confusion dragged on stage, the longer the focus would be on the girl and from where he was seated, he could see that she was barely holding it together for her sister.

"Lovely," Effie said.

Haymitch breathed out. The rest was a blur to him but he remembered taunting the Capitol before he passed out. Effie's thoughts were the last thing he heard and this time, she violently vowed to castrate him.

It had come to a point where Haymitch was beginning to be genuinely concern for his well-being now that he knew how destructive Effie could be in the privacy of her own mind.

XxX

"See, like this, I'm smiling at you even though you're aggravating me," Effie said.

How hard can smiling be, Katniss? I have seen people in the District smile! Well, even if it was never directed at me, not that I could fault them, it means that smiling isn't a foreign concept in the district. Why is she set on glaring at everybody?

At the other side of the wing of the their Penthouse, Haymitch's lips twitched into an amused grin. He could tell that Effie was frustrated and it was growing by the minute. He would pay good money to be able to sit in Katniss' room and watch the girl drive Effie up the wall.

"Are you alright, Haymitch?" Peeta asked, looking at him curiously.

"Yeah," he gave a curt nod. "You remembered what I said? Getting in with the career's risky so you have to play the game well…"

We've been at this for an hour and we haven't even started on her posture yet! God knows that will require a lot of work. I'm going to be here all day, it seems.

Is it time to break for lunch yet? Oh… There's still two more hours. Well, Trinket, you've endured worse. Katniss is a walk in the park compared to that mentor of hers. Even so, I sure hope Peeta isn't as difficult as Katniss is.

The grin slid off Haymitch's face when he heard that. And yet, he thought, just yesterday when they were alone in the room going through the list of potential sponsors, she had blushed when his hand accidentally brushed against her, her thoughts going straight to the day he kissed her.

XxX

"How did it go with Seneca Crane?" she rose from her seat the moment he entered the Penthouse.

"I just gave him an out on how to handle a mob, he'll go for it."

"You seem so sure," she nibbled her lower lip worriedly.

"Look out the streets, sweetheart, the Capitol's eating up this whole story about young love."

How did Haymitch even come up with the star-crossed lovers angle? It doesn't seem like him at all. Maybe there's a side of him that I don't know about... A romantic, gentle side... No, I can't imagine this brash man being romantic. Did he spend his time watching sappy soap operas while in Twelve… That would explain –

Haymitch choked on his coffee. Me? A romantic?

"Effie, I need you to shut up for a minute while I think."

"I wasn't talking," she frowned.

"You just did. Now, shut up."

XxX

"Can they do this? Claudius made the announcement earlier! Two tributes from the same district could win! They can't just revoke it," she exclaimed.

"Did you really believe that? Do you really think they will crown two Victors?" he asked with a frown, his eyes riveted to the screen.

No, but… They're my victors. The rule change said two! We could bring them both home alive and now…

He turned towards her. Her eyes were wide and brimming with tears.

"Don't look," he said. "Don't look, Effie."

"I can't look away, Haymitch," she shook her head. "It seems disrespectful … this is the least I could do for them."

Haymitch reached out and held on to her hand. Effie was a good person, even if her thoughts could sometimes come off as stupid to him. They watched as Katniss loaded her bow, the arrow pointing straight at Peeta's chest.

Katniss, don't. Please. This can't be happening. I can't watch this! The boy loves her. I can see it even if they're just playing it for the camera. She can't. She can't.

"Do it," Peeta said.

"I can't. I won't."

Next to him, Effie let out a breath but she was still as tense as ever. He was wound up tight, too. Peeta played to die but if Katniss turned on her own district partner, Twelve would be in an uproar. They wouldn't understand the choice that she had to make.

Good girl. Put the arrow down, darling. But … if she … The Gamemakers wouldn't stand for it.

"What will happen if they refused to kill each other? What will the Gamemakers do?"

Haymitch sighed. "I don't know. But it will happen one way or the other. They have to have a victor."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Peeta echoed it. Haymitch noticed the realisation set on Katniss' face and when she held the berries up, he knew what she meant to do. His blood ran cold. Haymitch was horrified and proud and scared for them all at once. The Capitol, or rather Snow, would not take this transgression lightly.

Katniss' decision managed to shock Effie into silence. She stared at the screen dumbfounded. For once, her thoughts were quiet.

Claudius Templesmith's frantic voice broke through the tension. When Katniss and Peeta were announced the winner for the 74th Games, Effie jumped to her feet, pulling him along with her. There was a huge smile on her face and giddy with excitement, Effie seemed to have forgotten everything else. She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug.

"We did it! They won! They won, Haymitch," she shrieked. "We have two Victors. Oh, they're such angels!"

She rested her forehead on his chest, laughing happily. His hand came to rest on her hips, holding on to her and the feel on his fingers on her waist must have jolted her back to her sense because she stiffened in his arms. When she pulled back to look up at him, her face was red with mortification.

I can't believe I just jumped on him. Why did you do that? What is wrong with you! Oh dear, I am so, so embarrassed. I hope he isn't laughing at me. I don't think I'll be able to face – Oh!

Haymitch listened to her thoughts and then, just because he felt like it, he tilted her head up and ran his thumb over her lip. He nearly ducked his head to clamp his hands over his ears at how noisy his mind suddenly was as her thoughts became amplified and turned into a jumbled mess, chasing one another to be heard.

He's going to kiss me. It's happening. How many times have I imagined this? Just… What do I do now? He's going to kiss me, isn't he? Do I close my eyes or… Should I wait for him to lean in? Be calm, Effie. Don't let him know how much you want this.

What? No, of course I don't want this. Have you lost your mind? This is your colleague, it's terribly unprofessional. You don't want him. This is Haymitch Abernathy, the same person who had pulled your wig four years ago, vomited on your shoes and embarrassed you on national television.

Haymitch clenched his jaw together to keep himself from laughing. This was getting ridiculous and insane by the day. He never thought being able to listen to her thoughts could be so entertaining. It was so easy to get under her skin.

When will she ever admit that she wanted him? How long was she going to play this game? Haymitch was more than happy to do his part just to see her flustered. She had become his distraction and the longer she continued to insist that she did not want him, the more he was going to take the challenge up and prove to herself that she was wrong. It gave him something to do.

But it feels so good to be held by him. He feels nice and strong except for that stomach. It's not exactly firm, is it? All those years of alcohol abuse... His arms are a different story.

She squeezed his arms imperceptibly, another resting on his chest.

To say he felt objectified would be an understatement.

Stop. Take a step back and move away from him. But if I just lean forward our lips would –

"We should probably check up on Katniss and Peeta," he interrupted her thoughts as he pulled away, laughing silently to himself. The look of confusion and longing and dejection playing itself across her face proved to be too much for him. Haymitch abruptly turned his back to her so that she wouldn't see the ridiculous, smug grin on his face.

And why shouldn't he be smiling? Days like this weren't easy to come by. He would take whatever he could get. His tributes had just won and Effie Trinket had all but confirmed that she desired him. Nothing was going to spoil his mood. Not today.

That's… You wasted your chance, Trinket. I'm disappointed with you.

And, Effie was mad. That's another reason to be smiling, that's a bonus. She was truly, truly mad. After all, talking to oneself was the first sure sign of it.