Prompt : 1. I love you and your writing I come home from college and I'm buzzing to read your fanfics 2. I've always wanted a mobster au in which Haymitch is a hit man & Effie is an escort (wink wink) for the mob and they develop a relationship but they want a safer life so they try to escape but are hunted down

To Paris

The lights were dimmed in the small office clouded with smoke from cigarettes and cigars. A real cliché, Haymitch thought as he slid the briefcase over the desk. Snow opened it silently and touched the neat stacks of bank notes inside. It was all there, Haymitch had made sure of it.

"No problem?" The President, as he liked to be called, asked with nothing but polite interest. Behind his left shoulder, Brutus was staring at him with an intensity Haymitch didn't like. Crane's gaze, at the other end of the room, was riveted on him too. Haymitch had to fight the urge to draw his gun and be done with this one way or another. He wasn't stupid enough to tempt it. Brutus was Snow's best hitman, he was quicker than Haymitch's, younger too. As for Crane, he could probably hit a decent shot if he set his mind to it.

"No, sir." Haymitch said, forcing his voice to sound detached and schooling his feature in a bored mask. "The guy's dead, the money's all there. In and out. Easy." Nothing he hadn't done a hundred times before.

"You're an excellent asset, Abernathy." Snow told him. Did he imagine the threat in that snake's voice? "I would hate to lose you."

"I'm not planning on going everywhere, President." he lied through his teeth. The quicker he could get out of there, the better. Brutus' insistent staring was unnerving but Haymitch stayed put.

"Excellent." Snow threw a wad at him. He caught it in the air. "Go have some fun but don't drink too much, Abernathy. We're starting to be concerned about that. We need your hands steady."

Haymitch almost laughed at that one. Was his notorious alcoholism what had them so worried? Was that the reason they all looked ready to kill him at the first toe overstepping the line? It was all good if it was. Better than them knowing the truth.

He stepped out of the office, breathing out in relief at still being alive. It wasn't something he took for granted anymore. He was flirting with Death more and more each day. He came back to the main part of the building, the inconspicuous strip-club where Snow had established his headquarters and headed straight for the bar. His eyes instinctively scanned the place, noticing each of Snow's men in the midst of regular clients. He ordered a whiskey at the bar and joined Chaff at the small table tucked on the far right of the scene. He barely glanced at the dancer wiggling up there but his friend was enthralled.

"She's new?" he asked as a way of greeting.

"Yeah." Chaff said, rubbing his lump against his forehead. "Pity, she's too young for that shit."

"They always are." Haymitch shrugged, sipping his whiskey slowly. He looked around, searching for a particular face but couldn't find it. There was a bunch of Snow's girls scattered throughout the room, smiling and giggling but not the one he wanted. He spied Finnick a few feet away and gestured for him to come to their table.

"Sorry, Haymitch, I'm not free." Finnick joked with a wink.

Chaff snorted but Haymitch didn't even try to look amused. Finnick wanted out as much as everybody in this place. "Effie's working tonight?" He tried to sound casual but he failed miserably.

Finnick's eyes were knowing when he nodded to the door leading to the upper floor. "Got herself a client right now. A regular. And then Snow booked her for the night I think. She has to go to a fancy hotel or something."

The hand not holding his glass clenched into a fist Haymitch was quick to hide under the table. He hated the thought of other men touching her. He hated the hollowness that crept more and more often in her eyes lately.

"I can ask Crane to find you someone else…" Finnick offered half-heartedly.

"Like you've ever seen Haymitch touching another escort." Chaff laughed.

"Who is it?" Haymitch insisted, ignoring his friend's gibe. "The regular." Because he had his suspicions…

"Heavensbee." Finnick winced, hesitated and then stepped closer to Haymitch, lowering his voice. "He always asks for her. Crane noticed and Snow doesn't like it. I tried to warn her but she's not listening… There're rumors about Heavensbee… It's starting to look suspicious. Tell her, maybe she will listen to you."

Finnick sauntered away after that, wolfish grin on his lips and eyes twinkling in fake happiness. Haymitch's stomach was churning.

"What's the deal with Heavensbee?" he asked Chaff. He knew very well what the deal was with Heavensbee. The man was an undercover cop and if Snow was onto him then Haymitch was in trouble because he would be next on the line. He should never have listened to Effie… It was Effie who had introduced Heavensbee to him. Heavensbee had made all kind of promises to her in exchange for her help, witness protection if she accepted to testify, a free pass if she collected evidence… She was too trusting and a man who paid for her company and didn't touch her had won her over in minutes. She had bargained to include Haymitch in the deal and Heavensbee had only been too happy to agree. It had worked well for a while but Haymitch sensed they were about to enter hot waters. Heavensbee's superior, Coin, was too eager, too impatient to go for the kill… Haymitch had hated her on sight. He had told Effie to stop any contact with Heavensbee, to let him handle the situation for them both…

"I know nothing about that." Chaff said, eyes darting around wearily before he leaned closer to Haymitch. "But they're onto him. If your girl dabbled in that, I would tell her to get the hell out of the country and quickly."

Haymitch remained silent but downed his glass in one go and said his goodbyes. He was halfway to the club doors when he saw Effie and Heavensbee appearing on the stairs leading to the upper floor. As usual he was taken aback by how beautiful she looked even in those ridicule outfits of hers. She was wearing a short pink wig and an equally pink tight dress… Their eyes met briefly but instead of smiling like she usually would, she bit her lower lip and glanced worriedly at Heavensbee. Haymitch narrowed his eyes and frowned to let her know he indeed wasn't pleased.

As for Heavensbee… It was very easy to grab him on his way to his car and to drag him in the back alley next to the club. Haymitch slammed him into the wall, kicking his gun away before he could get any idea. There was a reason Haymitch was one of Snow's hitman, only the best for the President. "What did I tell you about Effie?" he growled in the man's face. "You leave her out of this."

The cop didn't particularly seem worried about being manhandled. "She has information. She's valuable."

"I don't care." Haymitch snapped. "You're going to get her killed."

"I'm trying to protect her." Heavensbee retorted. "She's valuable because she has intel. If she's not useful, Coin will throw her aside and then she will get killed for sure."

"Yeah?" he snorted. "Anything happens to her, the deal is off. Tell that to Coin."

Heavensbee almost looked sorry. "She won't care."

The more twisted fact was that she probably wouldn't. Coin was a real piece of work. He didn't trust her. He didn't trust anyone. He flung the man aside and walked away without another word. He walked back to his flat, taking advantage of the long stroll in the cold to clear his mind. It was time for desperate measures he figured. He had been all for taking Snow out originally but that had been when it had matched his priorities. Now, on the other hand…

Once he was back in his flat, he didn't lose any time before grabbing the bag under the bed where he kept his money. He added the wag Snow had given him earlier and estimated there was enough to cover emergencies. The rest was on a bank account nobody knew about and certainly not Snow, being a hitman paid well even though it did little for his tortured conscience. Haymitch was well off. He grabbed other bags from the closet and started packing hurriedly. Essentials only. He packed most of what she had left at his place too, already imagining the lecture about proper clothes folding he was sure she'd give him.

When he was done the night was still young, so he laid down on his couch and started drinking. Just enough to ease the anxiety, not enough to actually get drunk… He didn't want to get drunk tonight or, rather, he wanted nothing but to get drunk. That wouldn't be very clever however. He had made arrangements a while ago, just in case. He had found them a safe passage to Europe and from there… It was anyone's guess.

He drank and waited. By the time he heard the rattling of keys, he was beyond tipsy but still coherent enough to put a hand on his gun. He heard the front door opening and closing and then the loud noise of the lock being turned. He moved his hand away when she leaned against the doorframe of the living-room.

"If you're angry, I'm going back to my apartment." she warned him. "I'm too exhausted to fight."

"Yeah, too much fucking will do that to you." he growled. "How many men tonight, sweetheart?"

She lowered her eyes, obviously hurt. "You're being unfair."

And he was. It wasn't like she had a choice. She already was an escort when he had met her and he had still fallen for her, all the while knowing it was the worst idea he could ever have. "I hate it."

"I know." she sighed. She took off her pink wig and quickly unpinned her hair. "Let me take a shower and you can tell me off about Plutarch while I remind you that I'm a grown woman who can take care of herself." She tousled her blond hair, a small smile playing on her lips. He didn't acknowledge her, taking another sip of whiskey instead. It didn't take more than thirty seconds for her to come back, worry carved on her face. "Why did you pack away my clothes, Haymitch?" Her lips were wobbling slightly. "If you wanted to break up with me, the proper thing to do would have been…"

"Don't be stupid, sweetheart." he cut her off. "My stuff is packed too. Go take your shower, I will explain later." She didn't seem particularly reassured by that. "Trust me, Effie."

She nodded and went back to the bathroom. He heard the shower running a few minutes later. She usually favored long and scathing showers for reasons Haymitch didn't like to linger on but this time she kept it short. She came back wearing a silk blue blouse and a dark skirt. Clever girl, he mused, she had understood pajamas wouldn't be of much use tonight. He put down the bottle of whiskey and wrapped his arms around her when she laid on him, snuggling against his chest and tucking her head under his chin.

"When do we leave?" she asked.

"At dawn." he replied, dropping a kiss against her forehead. "There's a small airport not far from the city. Someone owes me. They will take us to a private island and from there we can catch a plane for Europe. I have fake IDs for both of us."

"Europe might not be far enough." she commented, her fingers playing absent-mindedly with the buttons of his shirt.

"We will see once we get there." he shrugged. "We can find a quiet place… Or a big city if you like that better. We could go to Paris… Get lost in the background." He coiled a strand of her hair around his finger and let it bounce back into place. "We could start over."

"No more murders." she whispered, knowing how much he hated it, how much he hated himself over them.

"No more prostitution." he replied. "We'll be free." How many times had they fantasized about precisely this? Buying a house in a boring suburb and living a boring life with boring jobs and boring barbecues on Sundays just like everyone else? Perhaps even adopting an ordinary dog or an ordinary cat…

"What about Plutarch?" she asked. "We promised we would help…"

"We're professional liars, sweetheart." he huffed. "They can all go to hell for all I care. I want you safe."

She propped her hand on the armrest and touched his chin quietly so he would look at her. She had amazingly blue eyes, it was her eyes that had captured his attention the first time he had seen her.

"They will hunt us down." she told him. "We will never be safe."

"We will never be safe here either." he argued. "It's all about to go to shit one way or another, Effie. Either Plutarch gets caught and we're dead or Coin arrests some of the network's heads and the first thing Snow will order is a clean-up. That means the likes of me killing the likes of you." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You have to trust me on this."

"I trust you." she replied in a heartbeat. Her eyes were still worried but a small smile grazed her lips. "Paris it is."

"To Paris then." he smirked back, stretching his neck to kiss her properly for the first time that night.

"To Paris." she repeated. He would bet his right hand she was already thinking about all the shopping she would be able to do there. He doubted she had chosen the capital of fashion at random. She would probably insist for him to go with her in every shop to, at least, help her carry the bags, she was annoying like that. But, he thought, kissing her again, that was why he loved her.