No prompt - taking a small break from the list I have to write a more ... fluffy one, I suppose, since lately it's been a bit doom a gloom! So today and tomorrow ... happy! Oh - and some new characters!

Holding the notepad between her teeth, Effie used her freed hands to tape a piece of paper to the final door upstairs.

"What're you doing?"

Effie turned around and put the notepad in the pocket of her apron along with the stub of a pencil she had been using to write with.

"Getting a head start."

"On what?"

"Well, you did a … decent job cleaning before I came but did you think I wouldn't open these other rooms? I mean, you mentioned a guest room - but you only mentioned one. There's room for at least five people comfortably in this house. I thought in this room -"

"Wait - wait - are you … doing that girly redecorating thing right now? 'Cause if you are - sweetheart, be my guest. I won't stand in the way. Just don't touch our room. Or the liquor cabinet and we're fine. But I am not going to -"

"You expect me to clear out these rooms? Haymitch!" Effie pushed open the nearest door, sneezing as a cloud of dust hit her. "Have you -"

"Looked in there recently? Obviously not. I moved a dresser for you - isn't that enough? I'll send Peeta in to help with the rest. He's stronger than me. Now. I mean, if I were his age -"

"Think of it as building up your strength, then." Effie turned back to the room. "We can start by donating most of this furniture unless you have an emotional attachment?"

"Everything came with the house. Do what you want with it."

"Then we'll donate," said Effie. "Did you see the family that moved across the street?"

"The ones you got angry at me because of?"

"Well, you could have at least come helped them with their things. Poor Peeta -"

"I had a hangover. And so did you. You may not recall the events of that evening but -"

"Okay!" Effie's face grew red, even after all that time. "Okay! Mea culpa!"

Haymitch grinned. "So what were you saying about the furniture?"

"I thought we could see if they needed anything. There's at least three beds we could give them. They had … what five children?"

"Well, three," Haymitch corrected. "Two were … what're they calling them … Children of the Rebellion?"

"They shouldn't call them anything. It'll create … tension. Why the need to say where they came from? Their parents are gone …" Effie lowered her voice, "in prison … but there's no need to punish the children for it."

"You're preachy today. You're … energetic today. My god, it's like shades of the Victory Tour coming back to me," Haymitch joked.

"Oh, shut up!" Effie shut the door to the room and nudged Haymitch as she passed him. He pulled her back for a kiss. "No," said Effie, pressing her finger to his lips. "Go across the street. Introduce yourself. Offer the furniture."

"Really?"

"Mhm. And … maybe by the time you get back there'll be a bottle of wine waiting."

"That a promise?"

"Have to wait and see."

"Forget alcohol being the death of me, Eff. It'll be you." Haymitch started down the stairs. "And no, I don't even want to know what you have taped to the doors!"

The truth was that Haymitch just wasn't good at introductions. He'd never really had to do it himself. Usually, he was only semi-conscious with Effie doing the talking. And, anyway, in the Capitol they knew who he was and left him alone.

This was a different world.

This was society rebuilding.

This was … meeting the new neighbors.

Haymitch raised his hand to knock on the door, but he opened before he could. Before him stood a small boy with very blonde hair in overalls. He had a large cup of juice in his hand and stared at Haymitch with wide, dark eyes.

"Um … is your mom or dad in?" Haymitch asked, bending down to his height.

"Corbin! What did I tell you about the front - oh, I'm so sorry!" A clearly flustered woman appeared out of the kitchen drying her hands on a dish rag. She seemed about middle-age, a few too many wrinkles already from so many children.

"I was gonna knock -" Haymitch started, but the woman interrupted him.

"Oh, it's not a problem. Corbin's just being nosey and constantly looking out the window all the time. I'm sorry - I'm Elda. Elda Grenning. My husband Emil is … god knows where he is … god, I'm sorry. It's just been so hectic."

"It's fine - I just came over 'cause we've got some furniture and -"

"Oh!" Elda saw him pointing to his house. "You're Haymitch. Haymitch Abernathy!" She held out her hand, taking Haymitch's and shaking it excitedly. "I'd tell you what an honor it is by Emil said you probably wouldn't appreciate it - but it really is an honor."

Well, thought Haymitch, that was new. No one before the rebellion was ever happy to meet him.

"It was his idea to move to Twelve because of the rebuilding needing done. We're from Eleven so it wasn't too much a move and since we had a bigger house he suggest we take in the other children and one of them came to us with half-green hair and I can't imagine what his parents were thinking and now - five boys! How did we get that lucky? Hm? Oh - I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

"Um …" Haymitch was flustered every time the woman spoke. "Furniture. We've started clearing out the house and we've got stuff we're not gonna use and -"

"Really? Oh! Emil would be so grateful - we've got three boys in one bed at the moment and it just isn't working out and - Corbin!" Elda turned around as if a sixth sense had tipped her off to her son leaning out the bay window. "Get inside!"

Haymitch was able to pry himself away from Elda after about a half-hour of hearing about the move and the train ride and the Capitol paperwork they had to fill out to take in the two boys - Faxon and Linus. Faxon, she had said, was a bit of a spitfire and was difficult to discipline. He also had partially green hair. Linus was the opposite - thank god - and didn't talk much. Then again, Faxon was almost seven and Linus only three.

"You practically learnt the family history," Effie said as she poured Haymitch a glass of wine after pouring one for herself. "Peeta said Mrs. Grenning was a bit … wordy."

"Thanks for the warning."

"Well, you can't blame her. Look at all she's trying to deal with - and she's come to Twelve with it all."

Haymitch waved Effie over and pulled her onto his lap, kissing her cheek. "It almost makes me thankful you just had that damn cat."

Effie laughed and kissed him. "Is she taking the furniture?"

"I think. I don't really know if I fully understood everything she was saying to me but … I think."

"Good."

"Asked about you, by the way. Who you were."

"Did she?"

Haymitch nodded. "What do I call you?"

"It depends what mood you're in."

"Shut up. I mean in public."

Effie laughed. "I don't know. What did you call me when you were talking to her?"

"I just said you lived here. Your name was Effie …" Haymitch shrugged. "Do I say Effie Trinket? Do you want -"

"Effie Abernathy …" Effie said, testing how it sounded. "Effie Abernathy. Mrs. Abernathy. Hello, I am Mrs. Effie Abernathy." She sipped her wine. "I could easily go along with that. It'll make introductions easier. And they won't make the quick connection to …" Effie went back to her wine.

"All right then," he refilled her glass when it was empty and added, "Mrs. Abernathy."