Disclaimer: Effie and Haymitch belongs to Collins.
Chapter 4
Haymitch slid into the chair next to Effie who was furiously scribbling something on a piece of parchment, too engrossed to even notice his presence. The room was buzzing with conversation, the sound of numerous people talking with each other all at once. Some were standing by the huge glass window overlooking the city, others were sitting around conversing as they waited for the meeting to be called to order.
He poked her in the ribs and she let out a yelp of surprise and protest. Her small hands flew to cover her mouth as her eyes darted around the room, worried that people might have witness her unacceptable behaviour.
Beetee and Plutarch shot her a questioning look and when she shook her head and smiled, they returned back to their conversation.
"A simple hello would have sufficed, Haymitch," she reprimanded him.
"Hmm."
XxX
"According to the report here in my hand, regarding the relocation of the citizens' among the Districts, the number has –"
"Sparkling juice, Trinket? Really?" Haymitch whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
"Quite the taste, aren't they?" she replied softly, a sly smirk on her lips. "Pay attention, now." Her eyes were focused on Plutarch, currently in an open debate with a fellow representative from District 3.
"You better watch your back, sweetheart. They say revenge is a dish best served cold. But for you, Trinket, I'll serve it any time of the day; hot or cold, rain or shine."
He watched as she wrinkled her nose in displeasure. She lowered her head slightly and scribbled something on the pad of paper in front of her before sliding it over for Haymitch to read.
Is that a threat? Haymitch squinted to make out her small handwriting.
It's a warning, but if you want to take it as a threat, be my guest, little dove.
You are unruly and uncouth,came her written reply.
Then you should learn never to mess with my alcohol, you insolent chit.
Soon, the page began to fill with their handwritings; the stroke of the alphabets becoming more inconsistent, and their handwriting more illegible by the minute as they furiously exchanged insults with each other.
"Mr. Abernathy, Ms. Trinket, is there something going on that you would like to share? I see that you're passing notes to each other, if it's important to the meeting, kindly share your thoughts," the sound of President Paylor voice halted their flurry of activities.
Haymitch's hand was poised in mid-air, the pen in his grip. He scowled, and Effie, despite the blush creeping up her cheeks at having been caught and called out, managed to shake her head and muttered a brief apology, embarrassed at the treatment reminiscent of misbehaving schoolchildren.
XxX
Their monthly routine lunch went by in a blur of angry words, spilled drinks and Effie giving him contemptuous murderous looks.
"And, could we have two glasses of sparkling pomegranate juice to go with it?"
"Of course," the waiter replied as she scribbled away Effie's order.
Haymitch's head snapped up and saw Effie smiling sweetly at him. His eyes narrowed. Oh, this meddling insane woman.
"No. Get me something strong," he ordered.
Effie shook her head, her hands curled around the waiter's wrist preventing her from writing down Haymitch's order.
"Please, don't. You see, I'm pregnant and ... he made a promise, you know, not to drink in my presence while I'm still carrying,"
Haymitch's eyes grew wide, his mouth agape in surprise. What? What is she playing at? The waiter beamed at the pair of them before giving them a heartfelt congratulation and hurried away.
Haymitch glowered and stared at Effie who was hiding behind her hand, trying to stifle her giggles.
"Pregnant?" he whispered menacingly at him.
"Well, they don't know that and now, you're stuck with more sparkling juice," Effie said as she clapped her hands together enthusiastically.
When they were served with their food and another young waiter came bearing two tall glasses of what Haymitch assumed to be the offending drink, an idea flashed into his mind and he stuck out his leg.
The poor young boy tripped and the juice spilled all over Effie's cream-coloured dress.
A horrified shriek escaped her lips.
"I'm sorry! I'm terribly, terribly sorry," the waiter gushed out.
Effie dabbed the napkin desperately at the spot on her dress, threw an annoyed look at the waiter and disappeared into the washroom, grumbling to herself. Haymitch sniggered once Effie was out of earshot.
He shot a look at the waiter who stood rooted to the spot in shock. Haymitch felt a twinge of guilt when he saw the look on the young boy's face. He fished out a currency note from his pocket and folded it neatly into the palm of his hand.
He slipped the note into the boy's trembling hand. "Sorry for tripping you, kid. Don't worry about her, I'll make sure she won't file a complaint against you," he winked at the boy.
Effie returned to their table after a while by which time the food was already served. Haymitch had started the meal without waiting for her and he was sure if she wasn't busy disapproving of his utter lack of manners, she would be chewing his ear off about her dress.
True enough, the moment she sat down across from him, the first words she uttered were those communicating threats of bodily injury.
"I will kill you, Haymitch. That was a new dress and it's ruined now. Look at it," she waved towards the red spot staining the once pretty dress.
"Sweetheart, unless you lost your memory, I wasn't the one who spilled the drink on you," he told her, leaning back against his chair.
"Oh, you may not have spilled it on me, but I'm sure you had a hand in this. It's you, this has you written all over it, you foul man," she hissed at him.
Haymitch chuckled in amusement, "If you think so, little dove."
"I am not a bird!"
XxX
Effie had calmed down considerably as the last of their plates were cleared away. Haymitch leaned back rubbing his belly and tapping his fingers on the table.
"Time?" he asked.
"Four o'clock."
Great, he sighed. Two more hours to spare before he was scheduled to be on the train home back to District 12.
Effie seemed to realise his predicament for she asked, "Still got a bit of time, yes? Your train doesn't depart till 6."
He rolled his eyes. Leave it to her to know my schedule.
"You can come back to my apartment if you'd like. I don't know, you could watch the television while I work," she proposed with a shrug.
He couldn't believe his luck. Two days before the meeting at the Capitol, he had delivered a parcel to Effie's apartment. Based on his calculation, the parcel should have arrived at her apartment when they were still stuck in the meeting with the committee. If he accepted her invitation to go back to her place, he would be able to witness her reaction to his parcel.
His face didn't betray his feelings, the mask of extreme boredom and indifference was still in place as he nodded his assent.
XxX
Effie wouldn't stop talking. She told him everything and anything that came to her mind, having kept most of her thoughts to herself as she waited for his arrival at the Capitol each month. Haymitch knew that Effie considered him as one of her dear friends, someone she could be herself with. Haymitch still found the concept slightly disturbing, not having many friends himself.
As far as Haymitch knew, Effie didn't have many friends. She had acquaintances. Her only friends were the three of them; Haymitch, Katniss and Peeta in District 12 and Annie Cresta in District 4 who she had forged a bond with during her time in prison. Effie seldom met them as often as she met Haymitch. It was only natural that he was the one she went to when she had something she wanted to share.
"I accepted his offer. So, I shall be having dinner with him tonight," she told him with a smile on her face, as they stepped out of the elevator.
He scowled in response.
"A date, Trinket?"
"Yes. Isn't that what you've always asked me to do?" she queried. "You need to get laid, Trinket. Stop calling me and find a boyfriend or a girlfriend, whichever way you lean, to occupy your time, Trinket. I'll rip my phone out again and this time, I'll make damn certain nobody will be able to fix it, Trinket." she said as she mimicked him.
No, that was definitely not what I meant. He grumbled to himself. I said it in jest, you stupid woman, you just had to take it literally.
She halted as she noticed the huge, square box in front of her door. She tilted her head slightly as she inspected the package.
"It's for me," she said.
"I would imagine. It is at your door."
With his help, they managed to manoeuvre the package to her sitting room. Haymitch plopped down on the couch and watched her silently.
"Well?" he prompted. "Aren't you gonna open it up?"
Her hands were folded on her chest as she bit her bottom lip worriedly. "I don't know... Should I? I don't know who it's from!"
He gave a huff of annoyance. This was getting nowhere. He really wanted to see her reaction when she opened it up before he left for Twelve.
"It could be from your date? A surprise, perhaps," he ventured out, planting ideas in her head, making use of the new information Effie had told him.
She looked at him and her eyes lit up. She eagerly moved towards the box and untied the ribbon releasing the brown paper wrapping the box. Haymitch frowned. Who is this guy who could make her react that way?
Effie let the paper fall to the floor. Haymitch got up from his seat and sauntered over, standing behind Effie.
"I think you gotta press that red button over there," he pointed.
"What if it's a bomb? What if it explodes?" she whispered.
"Don't be ridiculous. Unless, of course, he wanted to date a... corpse," a sly smirk played on his lips.
She rolled her eyes and moved forward hesitantly, pressing the red button. She hastily stepped back to stand beside Haymitch, seeking his safety. Immediately, soft musical chimes started playing. It managed to pique Effie's curiousity and like a small child, she stepped forward.
That was when it happened. The music stopped, the lid opened and a huge clown head, complete with maniacal grin popped out of the box. Effie screamed; a terrifying, high pitched scream. She stepped back, lost her balance and fell on the floor. She stared up at the looming figure of the clown, moving back and forth. Her mouth was opened, her eyes wide in shock.
"What was that?" she sounded hysterical. "Haymitch!"
The moment she had screamed, Haymitch had started laughing and when she fell on the floor, he had to steady himself on the wall as his body shook with silent laughter.
"We call that Jack in a box, Trinket. And that, sweetheart is for those sparkling juice you graciously sent me last month," he told her amidst his laughter.
"That's... You are the reincarnation of evil, has anyone ever told you that? That's just foul. Get rid of it!" she screeched at him.
"Oh, your face, you should have seen it. It was priceless. I wish I had brought a camera; I should have brought a camera with me." Haymitch wheezed as he tried to regain control of his breathing and stop laughing.
He remembered being told that as a child, Effie had been afraid of clowns and when he had teased her, she was adamant over the fact that she had overcome the fear. Apparently, she had not. She was on her feet, her hand pressed over her chest as she continued to stare at the clown in abject horror.
"Had it made just for you, sweetheart," he told her, smirking.
"How utterly sweet of you," she replied snidely. "Get rid of it, Haymitch, please," her tone changed as she pleaded with him. Effie had turned her back resolutely away from the clown.
Haymitch broke into a fresh fit of laughter at the image of her with her arms crossed, and her refusal to look at the clown. He could see her shaking with anger and he decided that for his own safety, it was better for him to leave.
"Don't think so. Get your date to get rid of it for you," he told her, with a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he imagined the pair of them spending their date getting rid of his gift for her.
"Till next time, little dove."
He was gone before Effie could say another word.
Just something I wrote a couple of days ago..
Reviews are appreciated!