This isn't a prompt but a two-shot I wrote during a particularly long morning waiting for a plumber to show up. I just had the idea because of Katniss saying Effie is muttering obscenities at breakfast in HG so here comes so silliness. Warning for some steam albeit not much.

The Breakfast Obsenities

1.

Effie came back to the living-room cart ten minutes precisely after storming out, still annoyed with the new tributes and, of course, angry at Haymitch. Even though, as angry as she ever got, she had never once left him to sleep on the cold hard ground in a puddle of his own vomit.

She had a lot of experience in dealing with Haymitch and she knew when he was too drunk to function. That day was a particularly bad day. She had expected the tributes to scatter away as soon as they could so she wasn't surprised to find them gone from the living-room cart. She was surprised however to see a Capitol attendant cleaning the mess Haymitch had made when the man himself was nowhere to be seen. The attendant didn't know either.

It only made her angrier and she hurried up the train corridors, hoping to catch up with her victor before he could cause more trouble. By the time she reached his room, she was muttering a long list of obscenities under her breath. She didn't bother keeping her voice down when she entered his room only to hear the streaming sound of the shower.

"Of all the times to start caring about hygiene, you choose the night you can't stand on your own two feet?" It was just like him. "I swear, Haymitch, if you slipped and broke your neck, I am... Oh" The male tribute, Peeta, looked up at her from his kneeling position next to the bathtub. Haymitch was passed out in it, stripped down to his once-upon-a-time white boxer - inwardly she cringed. "Oh, dear, you didn't have to do that."

His sleeves were rolled up to high over his elbows and she frowned when she saw the fingers-shaped bruises. Boys often get rough, she knew, but those marks... Peeta was quick on pushing the sleeves down to hide them. He averted his eyes and cleared his throat. "It's alright, Miss."

"Effie." she corrected him gently.

She liked him. He looked kind. And it really pained her because kind had never won the Games for anyone. Still, they could work with him, she thought, there was the build to consider : she could see the tight lines of muscles under his shirt. He looked strong. Strong on the other hand could win the Games. But Haymitch would go with the girl, she could see it clearly already. She had the fire.

"Effie." he repeated awkwardly. He was obviously uneasy with her. The girl, like most tributes, hated her at first sight - it was alright, Effie was used to that - but Peeta was less hostile.

"I will take over from here." She forced a fake smile on her lips, snapping out of her thoughts to go back to her escort persona. "You should get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a big, big, big day!"

Her cheerful voice echoed awkwardly in the small bathroom and Peeta cringed. "It's alright, I can finish."

She wondered if he was hoping to get points with Haymitch for taking care of him. If he was, that was a mistake.

"Dear, he won't thank you in the morning for having stripped him down." she told him frankly. She could see the ugly white scars on Haymitch's chest from where she was standing and it filled her with the usual sense of dread and guilt. That wasn't the problem though. The problem was that Haymitch hated it when unknown people touched him while he was unconscious. He didn't like not being in control. It had to do with things that had happened before her time but that she could relate, in perfect clarity, with Finnick Odair. "It will be better if it comes from me. Trust me."

It was painfully obvious that the boy didn't.

"You will never be able to lift him out of there and to the bed." Peeta objected.

"I have my ways." she replied with a small smile.

"Why would you help him?" the boy frowned. "You sounded like you hated him earlier."

She had absolutely no intention of explaining herself to a tribute. "Haymitch is my responsibility, I'm used to taking care of him. Now, you really need to get some rest. It won't do to arrive in the Capitol with bags under your eyes. Aren't you excited?"

She was over the top with the cheerfulness, she thought.

"Sure." Peeta snorted. "Are you certain you don't want me to help you carry him?"

"No, dear, off you pop." She waved him out of the bathroom and all the way to the corridor before going back to her victor. She surveyed his unconscious form with a frown and tut-tut quietly.

2.

Haymitch was hurled into the land of awakened people by the most aggravating sound he knew - Effie Trinket's voice cheerfully announcing morning had come - closely followed by a blinding light.

On retrospect, he should have expected the curtain to be drawn back. It was her usual inconsiderate way of waking honest people up.

"Do you have to talk?" he grunted to stop her annoying babbling about whatever exciting thing had happened to her between her getting out of bed and her cruel invasion of his room.

"Since we both know you will get back to sleep if I don't, I believe I do, yes." she chipped cheerfully. "Up, up, up."

"Something is up, up, up if you want to come over here and check." he taunted, rolling on his back.

"Don't be crass so early in the morning." she retorted, flinging the covers away from his body, revealing brand new navy blue sweatpants he had never seen in his life. Although, to be fair, he didn't remember much of the previous day, so...

"Did we have a volunteer or did that happen in a nightmare?" he frowned.

"Katniss Everdeen." Effie's pink wig nodded enthusiastically. "And Peeta Mellark. You should learn their names before breakfast."

He rubbed the last remnants of sleep off his eyes. "I don't remember much of the Reaping."

"Color me surprised." she huffed. "Fortunately for you, I saw that coming and taped the re-runs so you could watch it -and see how atrocious your behavior was. I am now completely serious, pull that sort of stunt again and I will make sure you don't see the content of a bottle for a whole year."

Threats, threats and more threats.

"What did I do?" he sighed. His memory was blurred.

"Besides falling off the stage and making a laughing stock of our District again?" she deadpanned. He was sure he had a reason to do that at the time. Something had to be done to take the spot off the girl, he remembered that much. "You hugged me. On national television. You groped me too but, for once, luck was on our side, the camera didn't see that. I could have killed you."

She was standing next to the bed, arms folded over her chest. He rolled on his side, coiled a hand around her knee and tugged. She tried to resist the pull and a small struggle ensued.

"I'm angry!" she argued, battling his hand away but he was persistent and, soon enough, she toppled on the bed. He hooked a leg over hers to prevent her from standing up again.

"You're always angry." he snorted, propping himself on his elbow to look at her properly. It was a game of his to guess what stupid thing was the most in fashion that year. White powder, pink eyeliner, pink wig and a lavender silk dress with bright yellow birds. It could have been worse. At least, he liked the feeling of silk. Once she had been wearing dresses made of plastic and that had been a pain. "Maybe I groped you because I missed you."

"You groped me because you're a pervert." she pouted. "And you will flatten my wig if you don't let me up. I'm all dressed, we don't have time to fool around."

"There is always time to fool around." he argued, leaning in for a kiss. She pushed his head away with a wince.

"Go brush your teeth." she ordered.

He did have a foul taste in his mouth but he disliked being bossed around and getting out of bed seemed like a hassle. "I'm surprised you don't want me to scrub myself raw."

"Been there, done that." she mocked, placing a hand on his bare chest.

"You cleaned me up yesterday." It wasn't a question. She was always the one who picked him up when he was too wasted to care. Guilt flashed on her face so quickly he would have missed it if he had blinked at that precise moment. "What?"

"Well..." She sounded hesitant. "Peeta cleaned you up. You were already in the bathtub when I arrived."

"That boy stripped me?" he frowned.

"Down to your underwear." she was quick to say which made him relax a little. "Filthy underwear, by the way. Your hygiene habits are really deplorable, I don't know how you don't get problems down there."

"Afraid you will catch the old dog's fleas?" he chuckled, pressing his mouth to her neck.

"If there were fleas, they drowned." she hummed, she hooked a finger in the rim of his pants playfully. She brushed her talented hands against parts of him that were very happy to see her again like the tease she was. "I took care of it, you have never been cleaner. Now go brush your teeth instead of wasting time that could be better spent."

"I thought we didn't have time?" he teased, tearing himself from the bed to stumble to the bathroom.

"Please!" he heard her scoff from the other room. "I scheduled it. We have now..." There was a silence as she probably checked a clock. "...thirty-five minutes before breakfast."

"Of course she scheduled it." he garbled to himself, his mouth full of toothpaste. "What did that boy clean me up for?" he asked her when he came back to the bathroom. "If he thinks it's getting him special treatment..."

"I think he was simply trying to be kind." she snapped defensively. Great, he thought, she had already gotten attached and she had a soft spot for the boy. "We might have a chance this year."

"So you say every year." He flopped down on the bed, noticing she had taken off her precious wig and placed it on the nightstand so it would remain safe from his grabby hands. "Missed me?" he smirked, pressing a trail of kisses from the collar of her dress to her mouth.

Then he finally kissed her.

It felt righter than it should have. She was just as efficient as alcohol in making the world fade away - even more sometimes. One of his hand wandered under the hem of her dress, and his smirk grew wider against her mouth when his fingers met lace. She must have felt it because she chuckled quietly to herself.

They were already out of breath and he was fumbling around for the zipper when there was some knocking at the door. They both froze, glancing at the wood then at each other in confusion.

"Haymitch?" called a male voice. "Haymitch, are you awake?"

"Are we getting cockblocked by a tribute?" he hissed. "When did that last happen?"

"Three years ago when you decided it would be a good idea to do that on the penthouse couch in the middle of the day." she hissed back. "But more importantly, I forgot to lock the door."

"Haymitch?" the boy called again.

He could hear the doorknob turning and he only had to look down to know they were screwed. Effie's dress was crumpled, her cheeks were flushed and, of course, his hand was in her panties - not to mention his bulging pants. He bolted away from her so quickly he almost sprained something and she barely had time to get up and turn her back to the door, pretending to be looking through the window, before the blond Mellark boy entered the room.

"Do you... Oh, sorry." the boy stammered.

Haymitch glared. There was no way they could hide what they had been doing, not when Effie was without a wig and he was clearly aroused - but Effie being Effie, she tried.

The small seconds with her back turned were enough for her to smooth her dress back in place and plaster a cheerful smile on her lips. "Peeta. It isn't time for breakfast yet. Haymitch and I were having a briefing. That's the protocol."

Her smile and her sparkling blue eyes were as dazzling as ever but Peeta wasn't fooled. He was red in the face. "Sorry, I just wanted to make sure Haymitch didn't need help."

"How kind of you." she beamed. "Isn't it very kind, Haymitch?"

"As long as he's aware you can't actually smother people with kindness..." he shrugged. "Kind won't make you a winner, boy."

It was almost funny how embarrassed the tribute was, he didn't know where to look or what to do. Inexperienced, obviously. In the end, he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, I better leave you to your briefing."

He ran away before either of them could say anything else.

"You could have been nicer." Effie reproached him. "He's sweet."

"His mother isn't. Worst witch in the District." he recalled. Effie got a thoughtful look on her face but he didn't understand why. "I will talk to him, make sure he understands that if he tells anybody his chances are slim."

"You would threaten him?" she gaped "I forbid it!"

"Forbid all you want." he sneered, snatching a shirt and some pants from the wardrobe - he knew without having to ask that the fooling around was over for now, she had her angry face. "You're not my keeper."

"As a matter of fact, yes, I am." she retorted, pinning the wig back on her head.

"Whatever." he grumbled. He was dressed before her wig was on so he went in search of Peeta. He found the boy in the dining-room, eyeing the large selection of food with awe. He grabbed a pastry and stared at his new tribute, trying to estimate his chances.

Peeta obviously mistook his sudden interest because he made a face. "I saw nothing. I already forgot."

"Good." Haymitch declared. "You saw nothing because there was nothing to see."

That was all he consented to say. He filled his plate, knowing he wouldn't eat half of it and got tomato juice. He barely had time to spike it with liquor from his flask when Effie arrived, still very obviously irritated.

She was muttering curses and probably unpleasant things about him under her breath as she composed her own breakfast plate. He watched her for a while until the female tribute finally joined them. Katniss Everdeen, he recalled, the volunteer.

What could they make of her?, he wondered.