Prompt: This is one of my favorites. I like the ones where he's a little mean to her. And has to apologize. Can you do one where she over hears the victors talking about capitals being easy or s***. Mentioning Effie in particular. Haymitch doesn't defend maybe evens comments. Knowing it's not so. She leaves not wanting to face them. But he follows and has to say sorry.

Easy Or Perfect

Effie regretted walking into the penthouse's living-room, the moment she did.

All eyes turned to her. And why shouldn't they? She was radiant. Her dress hugged her torso close in a wonderful garnet-colored top with a large see-through band in the middle that showed off her cleavage and it spilled out in a flowing pile of creamed and garnet-colored layers of silk sparkled with silver gems. Her heels matched the upper part of the dress and her wig was a delightful champagne color that just made the whole outfit pop. Her make-up, unfortunately, was a little smudged from the long night of partying and she would have touched it up in the elevator if she had known what she would find at her floor.

She truly should have stopped to listen before heading straight into the living-room.

"Gentlemen." she greeted with a cheerful smile, hoping it didn't look too fake.

"Back so soon?" Haymitch half-groaned from the armchair he was sprawled in.

She pursed her lips and headed to the liquor cart to give herself some countenance. She couldn't leave after that remark or he would have won. Chaff's dark eyes tracked her all the way to the cart – or, rather, they tracked her ass. Finnick, too, was watching her but his gaze was a little more enamored and a little less concupiscent.

She fixed herself a cocktail she didn't really want, taking her sweet time. After a second, they resumed their conversation behind her back.

"Thing is… I hear the wife's fed up with his antics." Chaff said. "Heard Enobaria say she was gonna kick him out for sure this time."

Inwardly Effie groaned. Were they discussing that too?

"No way." Haymitch snorted. "You don't divorce a victor if you know what's good for you. The money…"

"Two ain't Twelve, buddy." Chaff countered. "They don't need the money as much."

"But they need the social status." Finnick cut in. "From a victor's wife to a nobody…"

Effie took a sip of her cocktail and pondered the thought of making a discreet escape. It was a bit late but she could run herself a bath, light some candles… Relax a little.

"Can't believe he was stupid enough to get caught." Haymitch commented, shaking his head. "I mean, I know Brutus ain't bright but getting caught by a journalist with his hand down his escort's pants, that's a fucking new low for him."

"Language." She clucked her tongue in disapproval. It was automatic really and she regretted it when everyone turned to look at her.

Chaff had a twinkling spark in his eyes that meant nothing good. "Any juicy gossip on the escorts' front, love? What is Valeria saying?"

Two's escort had valiantly weathered the storm ever since the compromising pictures had come out that morning. There was no denying they were real and there were plenty of them to go around. They had covertly been taken during a party and while only the less indecent ones had made it to the front pages of the newspapers and gossip rags, more of them were already in circulation behind closed doors and those were not for everyone's eyes.

Effie felt sorry for Valeria. Twelve and Two certainly never worked together and Haymitch didn't like doing business with the Careers so she didn't know her as well as some of the other escorts but they were on friendly terms and she didn't think Valeria deserved the heat she was getting for this whole affair.

Brutus' marriage, like it was the case for most victors, had been on display to the public eyes from the very start. The proposal had been a special show at the time, the wedding had been grand and had brought in thousands of viewers… Lenya, his wife, was a nice woman and everyone liked her. His fans were calling Valeria a marriage breaker, a shrew, and a few other chosen epithets. They were laying the blame at her door as if it didn't take two to tango.

As if Brutus hadn't been having an affair with Shella, a senior mentor from Four, a few years earlier – before her time as an escort, as it happened, but Haymitch had told her because Haymitch could be an excellent source of gossip once drunk. Valeria wasn't the marriage breaker, there, the marriage had already been broken more times than anyone could probably count.

"Didn't you read her official statement?" she replied in a polite but firm tone.

Now forced to be a part of the conversation whether she liked it or not, she took a seat next to Finnick on the couch, answering his delighted smile with a genuine one.

"Oh, come on, don't give us that shit." Haymitch scoffed. "It was a one-time thing? Heat of the moment? Too much to drink? Really?"

Haymitch's grey eyes were too shiny. He was drunk. More specifically, he was in that phase of drunkenness when he always was hostile and had to make a confrontation of everything – particularly with her. She knew the wise thing to do would have been to retreat to her room but… She was annoyed at the whole thing. She had been annoyed ever since she had woken up to the news that morning.

"That is her official stance." she confirmed.

"We all know they've been banging for years." Chaff argued dismissively.

"And yet she is the only one getting in trouble over it." she snapped. "So far, all I saw were men congratulating him on sleeping with a beautiful woman and a few journalists asking questions they have no business asking about her. Never mind those horrid pictures."

Haymitch shrugged. "They should have been more careful."

"Why? Because they had sex in what they thought to be an empty room during a party?" she retorted, meeting his eyes straight on. "Aren't you being a tad hypocritical?"

That made his friends chuckle in their own drinks and she took an irritated sip of her cocktail to cover her slip.

"Do you often have sex at parties, Haymitch?" Finnick teased.

"Happens." Haymitch sneered. "Capitols are so easy. You just have to find a dark corner so you don't have to see their ugly painted face."

Chaff almost choked on his whiskey but Finnick stopped laughing.

Effie didn't even so much as glare. She didn't betray anything.

"You think Valeria is easy, then?" she challenged.

"You're all easy, the lot of you." Eleven's victor replied in a mocking tone. He didn't make it sound judgmental, it was more patronizing than anything else. "You'd know."

Her eyebrows twitched but she forced her face to remain neutral. "What is that supposed to mean exactly, Chaff?"

"That means we all know you're always up for some good times." Chaff snorted. His words were slurring together a little and she wondered just how drunk he was. "Well… Not up, I guess. Rumor is you don't mind getting down on your knees so much."

"Careful." Haymitch growled. It was too late and not enough.

"I see." she declared.

"Effie…" Finnick winced.

"And where did you hear that lovely piece of information?" she asked Eleven's victor.

She didn't look at Haymitch. She didn't want to see his face crumpling with guilt or annoyance.

Chaff shrugged and waved his stump in the air. "Heard sponsors talking. Ain't like you don't have a trail of exes, love. Heard you're a screamer too." A slow smirk stretched his lips and his eyes trailed down to her chest. "Wouldn't mind helping you out, there, if you're ever in the mood."

Haymitch slammed his glass down on the armrest. Whiskey splotched everywhere.

Effie didn't even blink. "I can safely assure you I will never sleep with anyone in this room. My apologies, Chaff, you will have to content with your hand and your filthy mind. But, then again, I am sure you are used to that."

She stood up and strutted out before someone else could snatch the last word. She wasn't yet at the door when Chaff's bark of a laugh echoed behind her.

"Fuck, but she's a firecracker that one." Eleven's victor mocked. "I bet she's wild between the sheets."

"Shut up." Haymitch snarled in answer.

She didn't stop to eavesdrop the rest. She headed straight to her room, closed the door and ran herself a bath, pretending very hard her eyes were stinging because of the bath salt and not because of humiliated tears.

She carefully took off her dress and hung it for the Avox to take to dry-cleaning the next day and then wiped out her make-up. She was unpinning the wig from her head when she felt the presence on the threshold.

She should have locked the door.

She knew better.

"I am afraid there is no dark corner for me to hide my ugly face in." she snapped. "Go away."

"That sneer ain't pretty on you." he retorted.

"Too bad." she hissed.

She almost reached for her fluffy bathrobe because she was standing there in nothing but her lacy blue panties and she felt exposed. But that would have meant letting him know he had gotten under her skin and she had no intention of making him aware of that.

Let him look, she thought. He wasn't going to touch her that night anyway.

He pushed himself off the doorframe and closer to her.

She tore the wig free of the remaining pins, tossed it on the edge of the sink without enough care and turned around to get into her bath, resolutely ignoring him.

She hadn't thought he would be that quick given how much he had had to drink but his arms closed around her waist and hauled her back toward his chest.

"Let me go." she ordered.

His hands didn't wander like she thought they would though. He just… held her. His chin ended up on her shoulder.

"You're ugly when you're looking like a parrot." he said awkwardly. "When you look like you you're…" His sentence trailed off but since she remained silent he cleared his throat. "You're beautiful. Come on. You know that. You know that's not what I meant."

"Do you truly think this is the issue here?" she scoffed, pushing his arms off. His grip was iron and wouldn't break. "Haymitch."

"Didn't mean to call you easy." he admitted in a mutter she had to strain to hear.

"No, of course, you did not." she huffed. "And your sudden change of heart has nothing to do with the fact I vowed to never sleep with you again, does it?"

"You swear off me every two days, sweetheart." he reminded her and he wasn't quite wrong.

"I mean it, this time." she snapped, slapping the strong forearm pressed against her stomach. "You discussed our sex life with your oaf of a friend."

"Ouch." He pulled his arm back and she slipped out of his embrace, turning around to face him. Irritation flashed on his face. "Ain't talking about you with Chaff."

"No?" she challenged. "Then how does he know…"

"Guys talk." he cut her off. "I ain't the only one you've fucked, Princess."

She pursed her lips tight and averted her eyes. She would find out who was talking about her in that way and she would make sure they never said anything again. Even if she had to tear their reputation to shreds in the process.

"You are simply saying all this because you want to get me into bed and it is not happening." she declared, slipping her panties down her legs. She didn't make a show of it but his breath caught anyway. Men were too easy. She tossed them in the hamper and stepped into the bathtub.

By the time she was sitting down in the blissfully hot water, Haymitch had already lost the waistcoat and the shirt and was unbuckling his belt.

"What do you think you are doing?" she snapped.

He waved at the tub with his hand and a smirk on his lips. "You said bed. This ain't a bed. So I'm getting in it."

"Certainly not." she huffed.

"Stop me." he dared, kicking his pants and underwear away.

"I will not have sex with you tonight." she repeated.

He rolled his eyes and dropped a foot in the warm bath. "Fine. Scoot over."

The bathtub was big enough to fit three people, there wasn't any reason they had to touch. And yet, without her really knowing why – or rather she knew why, Haymitch was stubborn – she ended up leaning back against his chest, encased between his strong legs.

"I am angry with you." She wasn't sure which one of them she was reminding of that little fact.

His hand was kneading away the tension on her left shoulder and that felt exquisite. It was a shame he was so talented with his hands, really.

"It's not Valeria's fault." he said after a while. "She ain't the one with a spouse at home."

She sighed and let her head roll on his shoulder. "I am not sure it is so easy to cast blame. There are things that are out of our control, Haymitch. We tried not to want each other, it was not a success."

"I ain't married." he pointed out. "If I were… Wouldn't have touched you. I'm many bad things but I ain't a fucking cheater."

She was. She had cheated on so many boyfriends with him over the years…

But she kept silent.

She had been cheated on and she had cheated on people and it all seemed fair to her but she knew he wouldn't share that opinion. Districts had simpler views on fidelity. They had simpler views on sex too. Marriage was close to sacred for them.

"We should probably stop having sex at parties." she pointed out.

He dropped a tentative kiss on her neck. His stubble itched but it was a familiar sensation and one she cherished. "See… Knew you didn't mean the never having sex again thing."

She pursed her lips to hide her smile. "Well, it seems a shame, we are exceptionally good at it."

"That, we are." he snorted, nuzzling her shoulder.

She could feel him twitch at the small of her back. "Do not get excited. You are drunk and I am still vexed." She nudged his leg with her knees. "Besides, we would not want you to think I am easy, now, would we?"

He playfully bit down on her shoulder but kept his hands to himself.

"Don't think you're easy." he mumbled, his words a little slurred from the liquor. "Think you're perfect."

That was the kind of things he wouldn't remember the next morning – or pretend not to remember – but it made her smile all the same.