Prompt : Sorry to add another prompt to your list but when you get chance Could you please please please do a fic where haymitch tells Effie he loves her and she's never had anyone say that to her before? Maybe because all of her capitol relationships had been about the sex or status or for public appearance or whatever? Thank you lovely

What do you know?

"You need to keep a low profile."

Effie glanced at the bed on which Haymitch was sitting, dressed in that grey uniform that did nothing for the yellowish unhealthy tinge of his skin. His bed was unmade, half of the tangled sheets were dangling from the mattress and spread on the floor in an obvious hint at what had happened the previous night.

"I know." she offered, looking back at her reflection in the mirror.

Haymitch's compartment was better equipped than hers because he was on what she had dubbed "the VIP floor". Everyone of great importance was in that section : Coin, Plutarch, Beetee… She had no doubt Katniss would find her way up there eventually, once she was out of the hospital – although that would take a while. As for Peeta… She buried the thought before it could completely form in her mind, the anger was still bubbling below the surface, she couldn't believe they had left the boy behind…

"You can't do mistakes." Haymitch insisted. "If someone even thinks you're not on our side…"

"I said I would help." she snapped, glaring at him in the mirror. She had never asked to be brought to Thirteen. He had kidnapped her – or had her kidnapped as he had defended himself but that was all a matter of semantics. She had spent a week in a horrid cell she wouldn't have deemed fit for animals. Haymitch had been furious when he had finally come to rescue her, he had sworn to her he didn't know, that he had been detained in the hospital because of withdrawal symptoms and that he and Plutarch had come as soon as they had been made aware. Then he had asked her to agree to cooperate with the rebels to bring down the Capitol. He had asked as if it was as simple as turning the page of a book.

She didn't know what was worse : the nerves of that man or the lengths she was prepared to go for him?

Nevertheless, she had agreed. For the children. For the team.

And now, she had to go back to playing the happy, bubbly escort with the new title of assistant for Plutarch Heavensbee.

She soon returned to her original task : tying the scarf on her head to hide her hair from view. Everything was hideous from the color of her uniform to her chipped nails but she would be damned if she let anyone see her hair.

"I mean it." Haymitch grumbled. "You have to convince them all. You have to…"

"I know." she cut him off before sighing in frustration at his behavior as much as at the scarf that wouldn't comply with her wishes.

"I gave you this so you wouldn't get lost, sweetheart." he snorted. "Trust Effie Trinket to make a fashion accessory out of a map."

"I memorized it, I won't need it." She rolled her eyes at his lack of confidence in her abilities. "And if I do need it, it's conveniently within my reach."

He shook his head. "You really need to be careful, Effie. If you…"

"I have to watch my mouth, keep out of everyone's way, ask you or Plutarch if I'm unsure, and generally remain out of President's Coin sight. You said it a thousand times already." she interrupted him, finally succeeding in knotting the scarf over her hair. "I know, Haymitch."

She could feel his stare burning a hole at the back of her neck but she focused on her reflection, turning her head this way and that to make sure everything was perfect. He stood up, walked closer and tucked a wayward strand of dark blond hair at her nape inside the scarf, then he rested his hands on her shoulders and caught her eyes in the mirror.

"I brought you here so you would be safe, Princess." he told her.

"I know." she replied, leaning against his chest. A part of her was still angry about him taking the decision out of her hands but another part was glad he did. She wasn't sure she would have been brave enough to willingly board that hovercraft but Katniss and Haymitch needed her and there was no other place she would rather be.

"You know a lot of things this morning, don't you?" he smirked.

She turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck, she had to rise on tip-toe to bring her face at the same level as his – she blamed the lack of high heels, the uniform could certainly do with some improvements – and brush her lips against his.

"I know you would rather spend all day naked in bed with me." she teased.

"With all the pills they're stuffing me with, I'm not sure I could go for a round two, never mind a whole day, sweetheart." He was joking but there was a more serious undertone.

"I don't mind." she shrugged, stealing another kiss. "We could cuddle all day. Ignore the rest of the world…"

"I'm not the cuddly type." he said.

"Liar." She kissed him again, slow and teasing. One of his arms wrapped around her and his other hand found its way to her cheek. She drew back because she eventually needed to breathe but his mouth chased hers and they ended up kissing again and again until she lost count. Still, as pleasant as it was, she knew she needed to get a move on before she was late. "If you want me to make a good impression, you need to let me go now." she grinned.

The mood turned from playful to serious in a heartbeat.

"Don't do anything foolish, Trinket." he warned her again. His grey eyes were full of dread.

"When did I ever do anything foolish?" she tried, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"I don't know, you want a list?" he spat, dropping his arms from around her. "You bought golden tokens so everyone would know where you stand… That wasn't foolish, at all, sweetheart."

She sighed, her eyes naturally darting to the golden bangle around his wrist. She wasn't sure when he had gotten it back from Finnick but he had been wearing it ever since he had taken her out of her cell. Perhaps as a reminder that she should trust him. Perhaps because despite what he claimed he was sentimental.

"Careful, Haymitch." She was starting to get annoyed with all his warnings. She could handle herself. "People will start to think you care."

"If I just cared I would have left you in the Capitol." he growled, narrowing his eyes at her. "This isn't about caring. Don't play dumb."

"No… You were very clear on your reasons." She folded her arms, glaring at him. "This is about the children. This is about you needing Katniss cooperation and thinking she would be more comfortable with me. This is…"

"Bullshit." He stared at her for a second and then snorted. "Maybe, you are dumb, sweetheart." He shook his head and reached for the sweater he had thrown on a chair earlier, obviously intending to head out. "Why do I bother…" he muttered under his breath.

She snatched the sweater away and stepped back. "Explain yourself."

"Give me my damn jacket." he ordered, advancing on her to get his piece of clothing back. She held it behind her and walked back until she hit the wall. The sweater trapped between her body and the concrete, he had no choice but to stand there and glare at her. They were so close she could feel every puff of his breath on her face.

"What did you mean?" she insisted. "You said I was here for Katniss."

"It's obvious to everyone with eyes you're here for me, sweetheart." he snorted. "Fortunately for you, Coin can be a little blind."

He reached for the sweater but she pressed herself further against the wall, making sure he couldn't grab it.

"But you said it wasn't about caring…" she frowned, confused. He was avoiding his eyes and wouldn't look up, his cheeks had lost the yellowish tinge to turn a light pink. "You said you would have left me if it had just been about that… How am I here for you if you don't…" It dawned on her then. He didn't care for her. He… "Oh. Oh." Was there any other reaction to that little revelation than onomatopoeias? "But… But…"

"But, but…" he sneered in a poor imitation of her voice. He turned on his heels and walked away, making a beeline for the door.

She was quick to toss the sweater on the bed and step in his path, blocking the door with her body. If his annoyed expression was any indication, he was done with her antics.

"But nobody loves me." she finally finished with a sort of awe.

He didn't let her enjoy the moment.

"You've got hundreds of admirers." he scoffed. "I've seen men literally throwing themselves at your feet." And he had 'accidentally' stomp on a lot of them during red carpets.

"But they don't love me." she repeated. They loved the escort, the public persona… A lot of people had sworn they loved her, a lot of men… But she had never believed them before because those men didn't know her. Not like Haymitch did at any rates. They never got to look behind the mask… Haymitch knew her inside and out, he knew her flaws and her qualities, he knew her fears and her dreams, he knew the contents of her nightmares, he knew her guilt, he knew her helpless thirst for fame and glory… He knew everything. "You love me…" The idea was foreign and evident at the same time. "How? Why?"

He had hated her for so long it had almost felt like a miracle when they had finally reached a common ground of tolerance, a few years earlier – sex was no part of that equation, hate-sex had always been their way to communicate.

"I ask myself every day." he grumbled, eyeing her with wariness. What was he afraid of? That she would laugh in his face? That she would throw the sentiment away?

Her feelings for him had been very clear for some time now.

He cleared his throat obviously ill-at-ease. "I tried to stop, in case you're wondering, sweetheart. It didn't work so well. See? You're annoying that way… You…"

He wasn't expecting the attack and she couldn't quite say what went through her head. She launched herself at him, assaulting his mouth with her lips.

"Never stop." she hissed between kisses that would leave bruises. "Never, ever stop."

They fell back on the bed with her on top. He seemed alright with that because he didn't try to push her away or to remind her they had places they needed to be. She tore at his clothes, making a quick job of the old buttons and the wash-up shirt.

"We'll be late." he said, in a role reversal that wasn't lost on her. Neither was the fact that despite his previous claims, he was absolutely capable of going for a round two.

"Yes." she confirmed, with a definite tone. "We will be."

He rolled his eyes but whatever he was about to reply turned to a moan when the trail of hot kisses she had been dropping on his stomach reached a sensitive spot. She liked torturing that particular spot because getting him breathless always felt like a victory.

"There you go acting foolish again." he panted, coiling a hand behind her neck and bringing her back up to kiss her.

She noticed that, foolish or not, he didn't try to stop her.