Not a prompt but a headcanon for the movie, because seriously with Effie in 13 the hayffie possibilities are endless… I decided Haymitch would be the one to get her out of her usual outfit. So this is my headcanon.

Looking Back

"Seriously, sweetheart, how long does it take to put on some pants and a shirt ?" Haymitch sighed, staring at the closed door of the small en-suited bathroom. He was sitting on his bed, waiting for Effie to finally get out. It was ridiculous really.

"I don't want to do this." came the reply delivered in a petulant voice.

Haymitch rolled his eyes and fell back on the bed, studying the ceiling. They had been going on for half an hour at the very least and he was beginning to get annoyed with her quirks. She had been refusing to wear the Thirteen standard uniform for two weeks, now, and since it had been so difficult to get her to cooperate, he and Plutarch had done what they could so Coin could cut her some slack. However, her sauntering around in her high heels, make-up – and how much of that shit did she have left in her purse really? – and her golden wig didn't help people accepting her. Plus, after two weeks, her dress started to look a bit… Well… For someone so stuck-up on proper appearance, the dress wasn't cutting anymore. It was dirty and that couldn't do any longer. Haymitch had not left her much of a choice when he had finally cornered her and forced her into his bathroom with a change of clothes.

"Sorry, did you miss the part where you don't have a choice?" he shot back. Coin wouldn't tolerate the disturbance much longer and she wasn't a big fan of Effie to begin with. It had taken everything Plutarch had in terms of diplomacy to convince Thirteen's leader that she would be an asset and it had taken twice as much on Haymitch's part to convince Effie the rebellion was her only hope of being safe because, as far as the Capitol was concerned, she was as responsible as he was for Katniss and Peeta's victory. He had argued and argued but it was Katniss who had finally gotten to her in the end, asking for her help. She had no trouble saying no to him – she had been doing it for years – but Katniss? Haymitch didn't know what exactly did it, if it was Katniss' obvious despair or Effie's own maternal instinct but she was back to being the good little escort. Only now she was doing it for Thirteen. That was good though, Haymitch didn't have to be worried about Effie or Katniss when they were together and he wasn't there, they would take care of each other.

"You are not wearing a uniform." she argued.

He couldn't hear anything in the bathroom. No clanging, no ruffling of clothes… She was probably dressed by now. He could always force the door open, it wouldn't take much to break the lock down, Thirteen's quarters weren't exactly at Capitol's standard. And he was staying in the good quarters… He had seen where they had put Effie, it wasn't pretty. She had to share a room so small it looked like a cupboard with someone from Eight. She was sure the woman would try to kill her while she was sleeping. Haymitch wasn't sure she was wrong about it and that was why he hadn't put up much of a fight when she had invaded his own bedroom. He kept odd hours anyway so they had never actually shared the bed which was fine with him. Without alcohol, his nightmares were getting worse, he was afraid he would hurt her.

"I am cold." he sighed, instinctively pulling the beanie lower on his head. He wasn't comfortable if he wasn't wearing at least three layers those days. It wasn't really in agreement with Thirteen's policy but he did make Coin cringe and that usually was enough to make Haymitch's day. He found amusement where he could.

"It isn't that cold, though, is it?" she asked and he could tell she was frowning. He could actually imagine her frown.

He retraced the crack on the ceiling with his eyes, wondering, not for the first time in many years, if one could die from boredom. "Lack of alcohol makes it cold." he replied honestly. He had no reason to hide what everyone else knew. Being cold wasn't the most unpleasant symptom of withdrawal. He would take the teeth-chattering cold over the jumpiness, the nauseas and the tremors any day. And he would take all that over the terrible days when his brain didn't seem to want to answer him, when he couldn't think clearly and the simplest task took twice as long.

"Oh." The bathroom door rattled a bit and he lifted his head in hope but it didn't open. She must have leaned against it. "I'm sorry you're suffering so much. I can see how hard sobriety is on you but I truly think you will be a better man for it in the end. You will be stronger."

"Why, sweetheart, that was beautiful bullshit, I'm touched." he snorted before letting his head fall back down on his bed. "Are you ever coming out of there?"

"You don't have to wait right here, you know." she snapped right back, all sympathy forgotten.

"Yeah, if I don't wait right here, you will change back into a clown and we will have to do this all over again." He knew her. "Tell me I'm wrong." Silence was the only answer he got. "That's what I thought."

"I don't want to do this." she sighed. "I don't see why I would have to do this. I am not military. This is ridiculous."

And wasn't that a point she had brought up at least fifty times before… He checked the schedule on his wrist. "I'm five minute late to a meeting with Coin." he announced. Plutarch would probably chew his head off for this.

"Then go!" The door rattled again. She must have switched position or something.

"Not until you come out." he argued. "Just think of how rude it will be when I barge in the middle of the meeting… I will tell them it's your fault." He smirked despite himself because he was sure she was fuming. "They will think you have no manners at all. They will think you've been raised by wolves."

"I know what you are doing, you know." she said softly. "Threatening to tarnish my reputation is low even for you."

Only her would think of that as tarnishing her reputation. "Maybe it's low, but is it working?"

There was a long suffering sigh and then the noise of the lock turning. He sat up, actually startled. He didn't think that would have been that easy. He should have thought of that hours ago.

"Alright." She sounded unsure. "Alright. Don't… Don't be too mean."

He felt himself softening. She was such a child sometimes… "Effie, just come out. Get it over with. Seriously, what are you afraid of?"

"You never saw me without my make-up and my wig." she retorted. "You don't know…" The sentence remained unfinished.

"I don't know what?" he frowned. "You have a skin condition or something?"

"Of course not!" she exclaimed defensively.

"Then what's the matter?" He was ready to tear the bed sheets in sheer frustration by that point. "I swear if you don't get out of there, I will…"

The door handle lowered and then she pushed the door open. She took two uncertain steps out of the bathroom and Haymitch was left gaping. The grey uniform was a calamity, of course. It hang on her petite figure and did nothing to flatter her curves but it was the same for everybody, that wasn't what left him speechless. The white powder was gone revealing creamy skin, her cheeks were red because she was flushing, honey blond hair fell to her shoulders in loose curls, her eyes were the same they had always been : a deep blue that you couldn't help but hold a second longer than necessary. She didn't look like a clown or the doll of an overenthusiastic color pencil happy child anymore. She looked… Well, there was no beating around the bush, she was stunning. Haymitch was stunned.

"Alright, you may laugh now." she sighed and he realized he had been gaping for far too long. His jaw snapped shut but he couldn't tear his eyes away. He couldn't, for the life of him, take his eyes away from her. Who knew she looked like that under all that crap? Who knew she was so… gorgeous, his mind supplied helpfully.

"Laugh." he repeated flatly. His brain was having trouble coping with the way she looked, he blinked and forced himself to come back to the present. "Grey isn't your color but it's not mine either, so…" he shrugged. Despite that, she was still avoiding his eyes and flushing crimson.

"Please, I'm not a fool. I'm not talking about the clothes, I mean…" she waved at her face. "You may laugh."

"Right." he said, completely lost. "I'm laughing, sweetheart. What am I laughing at exactly?"

She pinched her mouth in a thin line in her irritation. It didn't have the expected result though. He was enthralled by the sight.

"My face?" It sounded half like a question and half like a statement. She shuffled nervously. "I mean I look…" she winced. "I look ridiculous."

He needed a whole minute to let that affirmation sink in. And then he laughed. He laughed so hard he had to hug his middle section and wipe tears from his eyes.

"Alright, enough!" Effie snapped. "I said you could laugh not have a stroke due to hilarity."

He managed to get his amusement under control and then he pushed himself off the bed to touch her arm. "Please, tell me you didn't make me wait here for an hour because you were insecure."

She tugged on one of her curl self-consciously. "There is everything to be insecure about. I am…"

"Beautiful." he cut her off before she could say something stupid.

"Not without any powder and…" she started to argue but he squeezed her arm softly.

"Effie, trust the man who made fun of you for years…" He smirked and that won him a small smile. "There is nothing to be insecure about. You will break hearts and women will die of jealousy."

She frowned slightly and tilted her head to study him. "Do you really think so?"

"Yes." Unable to resist further, he caught a strand of blond hair between his fingers. It was as soft as silk. "You're…" The word that came to mind was perfect but he didn't want to say it. Nobody was perfect and perfection was overrated anyway. "See, you have me speechless." he joked.

She relaxed and smiled. A real smile that reached her eyes, a smile he was used to but, boy, was it a different smile without all the make-up… He was in so much trouble.

"A feat, indeed." she agreed. "You need to go to your meeting now."

He really needed to. There was a war to fight out there. But he still glanced back at her before he left. He didn't think he would ever be able to stop looking back.