Prompt : Haymitch introducing Effie to the other victors (yes, I got the idea from your fic where she meets Chaff and I thought it would be fun to see the others too)

First Impressions

First impressions, Effie knew, were everything.

She barely managed to contain herself as Haymitch guided her into the big room where escorts, mentors and Gamemakers were mingling, waiting for the signal to finally go out on the red carpet in the Square where the audience was ready to acclaim them as was only the case before every Opening Ceremony. Effie's very first Opening Ceremony. She was so excited she was almost hopping with every step.

"Do you have to do that?" Haymitch winced, pulling on his arm a bit.

She paid him no mind. He had been grouchy if not outright disagreeable ever since they had met. She locked her arm tighter around his, making sure he wouldn't be able to wander off.

"It's only proper to give your arm to a lady, Haymitch." she reminded him cheerfully. Haymitch, she had quickly decided, wasn't big on proper behavior. He hadn't even returned the favor when she had granted him the use of her first name so she had to be extremely rude and take it upon herself to stop calling him Mr Abernathy – she couldn't in all good conscience call him Mr Abernathy when he was so drunk it was ridiculous.

"Sweetheart, you can use the arm but watch the nails." he grumbled.

She muttered an apology, realizing she was indeed clutching his wrist so forcefully her nails were digging in his flesh.

"Please, refrain from using that tacky moniker. I've never been anyone's sweetheart in my life." Even Haymitch's poor manners wouldn't bring her down at that point, though. It was a dream come true. She was actually there, she was actually going to walk out on that stage with the other escorts, she, Effie Trinket, was in the inner circle of the Hunger Games.

"I'd bet." he mumbled, trying and failing to shrug her grip off. "I want a drink. Go play with your friends or something."

"Oh, no! You can't leave me!" She shook her head and dragged him further into the room, a dazzling smile on her lips. People were looking at them already and she just loved the attention. "You need to introduce me to the other victors."

Haymitch looked physically pained, he struggled to get free but she discreetly dug her nails in his arm again. She stared at him, eyebrows lifted in a silent challenge that made him scowl.

"Why don't you ask another escort, sweetheart?" He heaved out a long suffering sigh.

"That's not how the game is played." she argued. "We are a team, now. We need to be seen together."

"Lucky me." he rolled his eyes and looked around. "There." He guided her to a corner of the room where Seeder and Mags were quietly talking, snatching a glass off a passing trail on his way. The two victors welcomed Haymitch with bright smiles and eyed her with polite interest. "This is Effie Trinket, new escort." He downed the amber liquid in his glass and looked at her with pointed irritation. "I introduced you, can you let me go, now?"

Effie ignored him and extended the hand that wasn't clutching his wrist – she didn't trust him not to leave her alone and as unpleasant as he was, Haymitch was now one of her responsibilities and she took those very seriously.

"It's so nice to meet you." she told Seeder, shaking her hand with a bit too much enthusiasm if the woman's amused face was to be believed. "I'm a big admirer of yours. I was too young to watch your Games, of course, but I have a tape of them. You are such a model for your tributes, I'm sure…" Effie could barely contain her joy at finally meeting Eleven's victor. She had met some victors at parties already but mostly people from One to Four, the others tended to stick to themselves and even the Career victors hadn't paid her much attention. It would all change now, however, she finally was someone to reckon with. "The way you hid in foliage and jump on your opponents to slit their throats, it was… It was simply amazing."

Haymitch let out a painful grunt. The polite interest had vanished from the women's faces.

"Thank you." Seeder said. It was flat and cold, not at all the response Effie had hoped for.

A bit unsettled, she turned to Mags. "And you, of course, are a legend. The way you used nets to…"

"Yes, thank you." Mags interrupted her which was really rude. The two women exchanged a glance. "We're very sorry but I just remember we promised to catch up with Wiress. We will see you later, Haymitch."

Seeder's hand trailed down Haymitch's arm as they walked away. "Good luck."

Somehow, Effie thought she wasn't talking about the Games.

"That wasn't very friendly." she commented quietly. Haymitch remained silent but she could feel anger radiating from him. "Alright." she sighed. "What did I do wrong?"

She would have bet he was going to talk her ear off about something or other but he remained quiet and probably more in control than what you would expect from a drunkard. That was a point every people she had met since being appointed to Twelve had heavily insisted upon : Haymitch Abernathy would be very difficult to deal with. They had painted such an awful picture, she had almost been disappointed when she had finally met him only to realized he was just a very rude and lazy man who liked alcohol a bit too much. She had prepared herself to deal with a monster but, for all his flaws, she thought Haymitch was very human. Of course, she had only known him for the better part of two days so she could be mistaken.

"You need me to tell you?" he scoffed, exchanging his empty glass from another one when an Avox wandered nearby. "Didn't they train you all?"

As a show of good will, she let go of his arm but remained ready to grab it again if he even hinted at storming away. Another thing she had learn quickly about him : he was very prompt to storm away.

"I followed a month length formation course." she told him proudly. "And I had a few interviews which I passed with flying colors. I know all the rules, procedures and protocol involved in the organization of the Hunger Games."

"Nothing about how to deal with victors, sweetheart?" His voice sounded amused but she couldn't be sure. There was bitterness there too, she thought.

"I can't say there was." she confessed, spying Viola on the other side of the room. She didn't like Viola much, never did really. And now she was over there talking with Seeder and probably ready to spread the tale of whatever blunder Effie had just unknowingly committed for everyone to laugh at. "Mags and Seeder looked offended but I don't quite understand… I only complimented them." She was desperate to understand. She couldn't be seen offending victors left and right. She was supposed to be a model of diplomacy, beauty and happiness – that had been clearly drilled into her from the start of her formation : smile in every circumstance, never look sad in any way. She wondered if looking out of her depth was allowed or if she would be fired before the end of the year.

"What do you care if they are?" Haymitch's staring was disturbing – not to mention rude – but she refrained from chiding him about it. For the first time since they'd met, he wasn't looking at her with contempt but curiosity.

"Why shouldn't I?" she frowned. "I don't particularly enjoy offending people, you know. Besides, this job is important to me and I want to do well."

"Never met an escort who cared who she was insulting before." he snorted, taking a sip of his whiskey.

Her own hands were empty and that wouldn't do. People were starting to stare at her a bit too insistently. She forced her trademark bubbly grin on her lips and signaled to an Avox to bring her a flute of champagne. "So." she snapped, her voice in total contrast with her bright smile. "Are you going to tell me or not?"

Haymitch was studying her with open interest now. "You're good at acting." he said at last. "That will come in handy. 'Makes you a bloody phony like every other peacock in this room, of course, but… I was beginning to think you were going to get yourself killed in a week."

"Get myself killed?" she repeated before laughing politely at what just had to be a joke. People in Twelve must not have the same sense of humor they had in the Capitol and she couldn't blame them. Twelve was a ghastly dull place, she abhorred dullness. "You are a funny man."

"We'll see." he shrugged.

"That doesn't answer my question." she pointed out, bringing the flute to her lips. She dripped her lips just enough to give the illusion she was drinking, she didn't want to get tipsy right before her first Opening Ceremony. She didn't think she fooled Haymitch, he only studied her more closely after that. He seemed to debate with himself and then gave another shrug.

"Don't talk to a victor about their Games if they don't mention it first." he instructed her.

Her smile slipped from her lips as she frowned in incomprehension. "But… I only complimented them. They both were…"

"You asked." he cut her off. "Just don't."

She hesitated, sensing she was treading on thin ice already, but in the end her curiosity was stronger. "May I ask why?"

This time he swallowed half his glass in one go. "We don't need the reminder."

"Again…" she lowered her voice so they couldn't be overheard. "Why? It's a great honor to be a victor… You've earned your place. You…"

"Killed people." he retorted, so coldly it gave her chills. He stared at her without blinking and that made her really uneasy. Perhaps he was trying to appear threatening but he was so obviously hurting it only made her want to hug him. Well… it would have made her want to hug him if she was sure he had seen the tiled interior of a shower this past month. He was reeking of sweat and liquor and had very evidently ignored all her subtle hints on the subject. He seemed to find it funny to try and make her lose patience, he wasn't in luck because she had plenty of it. And if she had the feeling he would use it all before the end of those Games, she wasn't about to tell him. Let him get tired trying to make her mad… One day he would probably succeed and then… he would realize he was no match for her wits.

"I don't understand." she replied with honesty.

"You wouldn't." he snorted. "It's all a game to you."

There was so much disgust in his voice it hurt. And the loathing was back in those grey eyes of his.

"Of course, it is…" She took an actual sip of her champagne this time, just to steady her nerves. "What else would it be?"

"Reality?" he scorned, waving a hand around to gesture to all the people around them. "Men and women with flesh and blood, not people on a fucking screen."

She would have loved to say she remained oblivious but the second he said that, her eyes opened and, suddenly, the people around her weren't simply heroes from her childhood or teenage years but people. It got real.

She had always known it was real, of course, but even when she had been appointed to the position of escort, it had all retained a dream-like quality.

"Well… Well…" she stammered, at a loss for what to say. "It's even more impressive. You all won. You all faced impossible odds and came back to tell the tale. You should be proud."

She knew at once it was the wrong thing to say. Haymitch's face closed up, his eyes shone with suppressed anger, the ice was clinging against the wall of the glass because his hand was shaking. "Proud of having murdered people?"

It was neither the place nor the time for that conversation. It was dangerous. She didn't know why exactly but she could tell it was. She glanced around just to make sure no one was listening or spying on them but they were quite alone in their corner. Victors, escorts and Gamemakers alike all seemed bored out of their mind, waiting for a signal that was long in coming.

"You didn't have a choice." she ventured softly. "It was kill or be killed." Wasn't that what made the Games so exciting to watch? There was no second chance, no place for weak people… It was survival of the fittest.

"Oh, there's always a choice." Haymitch told her with such bitterness it made her heart ache for such an obviously tortured soul. She wondered if that was why he was drinking so much. "Either you're a killer or you're not, that's the choice."

"Yes…" she hesitated, not sure what he wanted her to say.

"People don't like to be reminded they're killers, sweetheart." he sighed and then rubbed a hand on his face. "Just shut it about people's Games."

That was probably her cue to walk away. Perhaps approach Livia, the kind escort from Six, and ask her take over the introducing even though she was supposed to stay close to Haymitch… But she couldn't leave him there. She didn't know why but she just couldn't. So, instead of doing the clever thing, she placed a hand on his arm briefly.

"You didn't have a choice, having killed them doesn't make you a bad person." she whispered. "You were very clever during your Games using the force field. I think you're the smartest victor in this room."

Anger flashed in his eyes but it was gone in a second, after that he just looked at her with something akin to pity.

"I'm almost sorry for you, Trinket." he told her, using her name for the first time. He finished his glass and then his lips twitched in a sad smile. "It's going to destroy you."

"What is?" she frowned but before he could answer, there was a laugh that sounded like a bark and a bulky man slapped his lump on Haymitch's shoulder good-heartedly. Her victor's face instantly lightened up in amusement. She knew who the man was, of course. District Eleven's other victor : Chaff.

"There you are, buddy!" Chaff exclaimed, patting his friend's shoulder. "I've been looking all around for you."

"A bit drunk already, are you?" Haymitch snorted.

"Yeah." Chaff nodded very seriously, his grin never wavering from his face. "Question is, why aren't you?"

"Got a new keeper." Haymitch told him, nodding at her with a scowl. "She's a pain in the ass and she locked the liquor away."

Effie blushed. She hadn't thought he had realized it was her doing, she had been ready to blame the Avoxes if he ever commented on it. She outstretched a hand to Chaff, her cheerful smile sliding easily into place. "I'm Effie Trinket. District Twelve's new escort. How do you do?"

Chaff stared at her, glanced back at Haymitch with a smirk on his face that only meant mischief and then bypassed her hand completely to crush his mouth on hers without sparing a single thought to her muffled distressed yelp. It wasn't much more than a peck but it was already too much.

"How dare you…" she spluttered and then quickly fell silent when she realized Chaff's little joke had cause a scene. People were pointing and laughing. She didn't want to make an even bigger fuss so she settled for glaring at him with all her worth. "Don't do that again."

"He's very friendly." Haymitch smirked, mirth made his grey eyes twinkle. She wasn't at all taken by the sight. "Don't worry, he doesn't bite."

"Except when the ladies ask." Chaff added helpfully with a wink.

"Well, I'm certainly not asking." Effie retorted. "Kiss me again without my permission and you will be sorry."

"Is that a threat or a promise, love?" Eleven's victor sounded much too amused for her tastes.

"What is it with you victors and stupid monikers?" she asked Haymitch.

"We don't particularly care about our escorts." he shrugged. "It's a bother to learn their names."

"Bother." she advised him coldly. After all, he wasn't the only one who could act all short and upset.

Haymitch's smirk only deepened. "Or what?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Believe me, you don't want to find out. I could be your best friend or your worst nightmare."

"Sweetheart, you already are." he chuckled.

"Okay…" Chaff didn't sound as amused or as drunk as he had been a minute earlier, he was looking back and forth between them with a thoughtful frown. He pointed an accusing finger at Effie's chest who folded her arms in an instinctive gesture of defiance. "You are being difficult."

"I beg your pardon?" she gasped, offended. "I will have you know…"

"Why isn't she storming off in rightful indignation?" Chaff asked Haymitch, completely ignoring her. How rude!

"I think she has a backbone." Twelve's victor said. "And she always wants to have the last word from what I've seen. She's a pain."

Effie cleared her throat loudly. "First of all, it's the utmost rudeness to speak of someone in front of them as if they weren't there. Second of all, neither of you is a gentleman and both of you should be ashamed of themselves. Third…"

"We got it, Princess, you can count and we're rude." Haymitch snorted. "Anything else?"

Effie had never been prone to violent thoughts in her life but right at this very second, she almost regretted it because she would have liked anything more than to slap him. Perhaps that would have shaken that mocking grin off his lips.

"I hate you." The words left her mouth without her consent but, really, she had never been as truthful. She had been so happy to go to her first Reaping, so happy about the whole prospect of her first Games as an escort and Haymitch had tried to ruin everything since the very first minute.

"Oh, boy…" Chaff sighed, rubbing his lump against his cheek. "This is bad…"

She barely looked at Eleven's victor. Eleven's victor wasn't her problem but Viola's and, as usual, Viola was clearly doing a poor job at keeping him in line. Effie vowed she wouldn't make the same mistake with her victor. Haymitch would have a perfect behavior before she was through with Twelve and up to another district, she swore it as she glared at the man who was staring at her with growing delight.

"This is going to be fun." Haymitch said, to no one in particular.

"For me, certainly." Effie snapped. "For you? I really don't think so. You might want to get your attitude in check by the time I get back."

She handed him her flute of champagne and walked away as quickly as her heels would allow her. It wasn't quick enough not to hear Haymitch's chuckles or Chaff's prediction that their partnership would end badly.

Of course it would end badly.

They would probably kill each other before the end of the week.