Finally, the login page let's me on. I've been sitting at my computer for over two hours trying to get on to upload this chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, alerted, favorited, and sent me such lovely PMs. You guys are truly the greatest and I cannot thank you enough for all of the support you give. As promised, here is chapter seven.

Chapter seven: Unwelcome Invitees

I nervously pull at the cuff of my sleeve, eyes fixed on the large screen that sits a good few feet above me. Katniss and Peeta stand beside one another, each armed with a large bouquet of flowers as the speak to the citizens of District Eleven. I really wish I had been allowed to be on stage with them. My fears of them slipping up on their speeches or doing something that would reflect badly on me-and everyone else for that matter, swirl relentlessly in my mind.

A hand touches my arm and I turn to see Portia giving me a reassuring smile. She and Cinna seem quite at ease with all of this. Their faces clear of any concern or fear they might have. Haymitch on the other hand stands by my side, his lips pulled into a thin line as he focuses on every word that comes out of the victors' mouths. Did he worry like I did that they would embarrass us all?

"Well they haven't messed up yet." I say cheerfully looking from the stylists to Haymitch.

"Yet." Haymitch frowns deeply. "The boy might have pushed it too far with what he gave to the tributes' families."

Pushed it too far? Why I thought it was very sweet what Peeta did. And I'm almost positive those families were very grateful for those gifts. As I open my mouth to ask what he meant by those words, I'm immediately silenced by the sound of Katniss's voice.

"Wait!"

Haymitch lets out a groan but at the moment I'm far to occupied with Katniss hurrying across the stage to find out why. She reaches the podium, the large plaque that was given to her by Eleven's mayor pressed tightly to her chest. What on earth was she doing? I quickly glance at the others in hopes that maybe one of them would have the answer but they all seem just as clueless as I.

"I want to give my thanks to the tributes of District Eleven."

Her words catch me by surprise. Had she prepared another speech and not made me aware of it? It definitely wasn't scheduled but in a circumstance such as this, I decide to let it slide. After all, this was a very important moment for all of us and if worst came to worse, I could always pull off a few minutes from dinner to make up for lost time.

"Watch your words, girl..." Haymitch mutters as Katniss begins to discuss a tribute she calls Thresh. "The whole world's listening."

The corners of my lips twitch as I turn to look at him. Why was he being to pessimistic? Did he expect Peacekeepers to emerge from the cracks of the Justice Building and take Katniss into custody? She was doing just fine up there. Beautifully, I might add. But he was acting as if each word that slipped from her mouth had the capability of detonating a bomb.

"I think her speech is beautiful." I say with a smile as Katniss ends with a thanks to District Eleven's gift to her in the arena. "Very polite of her to-"

Without warning the image of Katniss on the stage disappears and is replaced by the annoying hum of static. You would think that District Eleven would at least have the decency to fix up their electronics for an event such as this. I shake my head, frowning as the bright flashes of millions of white and black pixels dance on the screen. As I turn to mention something about it, I stop immediately, my heart skipping a beat. Haymitch, whose face usually sports the gruff, no-nonsense expression now seems to almost look old, a little frightened even.

"Haymitch," I whisper, fear now bubbling in my chest. "Are you-"

Once again I am interrupted only this time by a loud popping noise that rings through the still air.

"Gun shot." Haymitch's words cause shivers to run up my spine.

"Don't be silly, Haymitch," I whisper, my arms tightening over my chest. "It couldn't possibly be that."

Could it? This district had already given off the impression of being rather pushy and cold. If that had been a gun shot then why had it been fired? My heart begins to pound as so many questions rush to my mind. What if they had fired at Katniss? Could there have possibly been a disgruntled citizen who attempted to do such a horrid act of violence? My eyes flash towards the door as it begins to creek open. Was the gunman coming after us now?

"We're going!" The voice is familiar. "We get it, alright? Come on, Katniss." Peeta.

A wave of relief rushes over me as the two victors emerge from behind the door. They look a little shaken, Peeta's arm tightly wound around Katniss, as they make their way towards us. My feet are moving before I realize what I'm doing.

"What happened?" I search both of their eyes for an answer. "We lost the feed just after Katniss's beautiful speech, and then Haymitch said he thought he heard a gun fire, and I said it was ridiculous, but who knows? There are lunatics everywhere!" I'm beginning to hyperventilate but immediately try to regain myself when Haymitch's words from earlier today flash into my mind. It's not good to overwork yourself in your current condition.

"Nothing happened, Effie. An old truck backfired." Peeta's words are followed by two more loud pops. Definitely not a truck backfiring.

Haymitch steps forward. His face serious. He's eyes are fixed on Katniss and Peeta and the ominous feeling that there's something more going on that I haven't been made aware of washes over me.

"Both of you. With me."

Before I have time to interject, Haymitch, along with Peeta and Katniss disappear, leaving me alone with the stylists. There's a long moment of pause before Portia clears her throat, looking from me to Cinna.

"Well, I think I may go back and look over Peeta's outfit for this evening. I think the hem on his left pants' leg may be coming undone..." Cinna nods in agreement with her.

"That's not a bad idea. I may do the same. Minus the redoing a pants' leg hem of course." They both look to me. "Would you like to join us, Effie?"

The offer is kind but I had previous plans as to look about the Justice Building. Even though the fear of the gun shots still looms over me, I cannot help but be curious as to what interesting architect this district holds. I shake my head no and give them a warm smile.

"I think I'll take a look around. But thank you for the offer."

They look at each other slightly concerned.

"Are you sure, Effie?" Portia asks, "Really, we'd love the company."

"Yes, quite sure." I assure her, "And I think a walk before dinner would do me a great deal of good."

"Alright, just know the offer still stands if you change your mind." Cinna tells me with a smile.

I give them a nod. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you."

I watch as they walk away from me, disappearing out of the door opposite from where Haymitch took the Peeta and Katniss. I almost have the urge to follow them beside it best not to. Knowing Haymitch, he probably went somewhere where I couldn't follow and the thought of them having to send out a search party due to the fact that I got lost didn't seem at all worth the troubles. So, in my best interest, I keep with the plan of exploring.

xXx

When I step outside, I'm surprised to find that the previous crowd that was here for the speech has completely disappeared. The streets seem empty now except for the occasional person hurrying into their home. Even though this seems a little concerning, I shake off any troubling thoughts and begin to examine the cracking columns of the old Justice Building.

A few years back when I had just begun as the escort for Twelve, a rather large earthquake hit Eleven causing some unfortunate structural damage. My hand runs down the deep scars left in the wall as the question of why they never bothered to fix it up sits in my mind. Perhaps Eleven had been the inspiration of the district ruins theme back at the Capitol. I can still hardly believe that I have the luxury of getting to experience the real thing while my friends back at home only get to see the replications.

My foot steps down upon something soft. My heart stops when at first I think it could be a rat-I had heard horror stories about such creatures lurking around places such as this, but when I hear no squeak I look down. There, below my foot was what appeared to be a tattered doll. The eyes, black buttons, stare up at me with a smile made from a single strand of red thread. Now usually I don't pick up things off the ground but something about this doll intrigued me so, with surprising ease, I stoop down and scoop it up.

"Tulip!"

I glance up to see two children, one around the age of nine and the other around five watching me. The eldest's hands rest on her sister's shoulders, restraining her as she eyes me hesitantly. The littler one is staring at my hand that holds the doll, her chest rising up and down as she breaths hard. Was this her toy?

"Why, hello there." I call out to them. "Is this your doll?"

The littler one breaks away from her sister and runs over to me. Her hair messily puffs out from every which way as she pushes a hand through it, blinking up at me with large brown eyes. By the looks of her, I wonder when the last time she received a proper cleaning.

"You found her! You found Tulip!" She squeals pointing at my hand.

I smile softly and hand it back to her. She snatches it at once and holds it closer to her chest as if I'm going to try to take it away. Why did she care for a toy as old as this? Did her parents not take her to the store that often?

"Well, I'm glad she has a home." I tell her, my eyes wandering over to her sister who still stands at a distance from me. "What's your name, dear?"

"Daisy." She says shyly as she rocks back and forth on her heels. "And that's my sister Pansy over there." She points to the other girl who seems to shrink back when being shown to me. "She's afraid of you." She giggles, "She says you look weird with your funny hair."

My funny hair? I'm slightly offended by her comment but quickly recover. After all, she was but a child and not at all used to the Capitol's way of fashion.

"Well those are some nice names." I tell her with a smile. "I'm Effie. I'm sure you've seen me on the television before."

Daisy shakes her head. "We don't have a television. Well, we did but it broke. And I'm too little to see over all of the other people when were watching the big one." She points over to the large one that ever district has in their square. "You're not from around here are you?"

I laugh softly and shake my head. "No, I'm from the wonderful place called the Capitol. I'm sure you've at least heard of that."

To my relief, she nods. "I don't think my daddy likes the Capitol. He says they-"

"Daisy, that's enough!" I hadn't even noticed the older sister come up. She quickly grabs Daisy's arm and attempts to pull her away.

"Awe, I was just talking to the nice lady." Daisy whines as she struggles to break free of her sister. "Why do you have to go and ruin everything, Pansy?"

Pansy looks up at me with frightened eyes. "I'm really sorry about my sister." She whispers frantically. "She didn't mean a word she says. Please don't report us!"

Report them? Why would she think I'd do such a thing? Granted, I'm a tad surprised by her sister's words about their father's feelings towards the Capitol, but report them?

"Of course not." I assure her. "I'd never dream of such a thing. You have nothing to worry about."

Pansy relaxes her grip on her sister and gives me what I think is a smile. Daisy sticks out her tongue at her sister before looking up at me with a big grin.

"See, Pansy? I told you she's nice. She'd never report us." She holds out her doll towards me. "Tulip says thank you for finding her. She was scared when that loud noise happened. She got lost when everyone started running. But now she's safe and not scared anymore."

"Well, I'm very glad she's not scared anymore. That wouldn't be good now would it?" Daisy giggles and shakes her head no.

Suddenly Pansy lets out a little gasp. "Come on, Daisy. It's time to go home now." She whispers as she tugs at her sister again. "Mom and Dad will be looking for us."

"But I..." Daisy's eyes grow large as if she's been terrified by the same thing as her sister.

Before I can ask what has frightened them they take off. Their little shoes clapping against the concrete as the run. That's when I feel something nudging against my back. I turn around to see what it is only to come face to face with a Peacekeeper and his gun. Was he the reason the children ran?

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave ma'am." He frowns, his gun still pointing at me. "We need to clear the streets."

"Don't you know who I am?" I huff, trying to conceal my fear. "I'm District Twelve's escort, Effie Trinket, and I do not appreciate you pointing that thing at my person!"

"I don't care who you are. I just have orders to clear this area." He nudges me again. This time harder.

"Well I'd like to speak to your Head Peacekeeper! I really don't like how I'm being treated! Didn't your mother teach you anything about manners?" I scold folding my arms over my chest.

"Is there a problem here?"

A voice from behind me makes me turn. There, once again when I least expect it, stands Haymitch. He doesn't even look at me when he steps forward, pushing in front of me so that now he's what's between me and the gun.

"Just trying to do my job." The Peacekeeper informs him. "And this woman is making it rather difficult to do so."

"I apologize. She's not exactly right in the mind." Not exactly in the right mind? How dare he! "I'll get her out of your hair." He has a firm grip on my arm but I decide now is not the best time to struggle.

The Peacekeeper nods, his gun still pointed at Haymitch and me. "Just get her out of here." Haymitch nods and proceeds to pull me away from the Justice Building and rude Peacekeeper.

Once we're out of eyesight and earshot, he let's go of my arm. I'm about to snap at him for him being so impolite when the look on his face stops me.

"What the hell were you doing back there? Trying to get yourself killed?'' He points to the Justice Building. "That man wouldn't have hesitated a second to shoot you." I open my mouth to speak but he continues. "He doesn't give a damn if your from the Capitol, Princess. Haven't you realized that yet? If I hadn't had shown up when I did, they'd be washing your blood off the steps as we speak! Stop trying to defend your honor and start thinking!"

"I was only trying to see the Justice Building." The words come out quiet. "I wasn't bothering anybody."

"That may have been but if you haven't noticed, people don't seem to inclined to welcome us here." He's lowered his voice now. "Just think next time, Princess. I'm sure there are many escorts lining up to take your place but you're the only one who seems to have the power to annoy me enough into doing things."

I can't help but smile at his words. So he does care about me-or rather, I think he does.

"Alright, I'll be more careful and only go looking at buildings when I'm invited to do so." He gives some sort of a half smile by my response.

"We better get back to the others. I told them I was taking a bathroom break. If we don't hurry, they'll probably think I've died or something." He snorts, "Wouldn't be surprised if that was the place I was going to die in, the bathroom I mean."

"No," I crinkle my nose a little, "We wouldn't want them to think that..."

We walk back to where the others are located in silence. I'm tempted numerous times to ask him what made him come looking for me but I decide against it. Maybe some things are better left unsaid. Besides, I'd rather not have him yelling at me again... Even so, I'm touched he came out to get me. Maybe there is some decency in that man buried somewhere under all of that alcohol. The question was, how often would it reveal itself to me?

I really wanted to have a scene where Haymitch was being protective of Effie. Once again, a few quotes in this chapter are in Catching Fire (just wanted to again give credit of those to Suzanne Collins). Anywho, please review and tell me what you thought. It always does my heart good to see a review.-Jen