Do you still write pre 74th hunger game one-shots? If so, here's a prompt: it's the team's day off in the capitol; therefore, after breakfast, Effie urgently goes out and Haymitch stalks her and sees her with another man (so he thinks she's sleeping with him). Long story short, we find out he's actually a blood relative? XD Adore HADS!

Quiproquo

"Who's that, then?" Chaff snorted, coming to a stop next to Haymitch on his way to the next group of sponsors. "Do you have a rival?"

The sponsors lounge was crowded and loud enough that Chaff's taunts didn't attract unwanted attention.

"You're drunk." Haymitch accused immediately, as always when his friend's teasing focused too much on his escort. Yet, he didn't take his eyes away from said escort.

Effie had sneaked out of the penthouse early and without bothering to remind him of her usual rules and advices concerning public behavior which had raised red flags in his mind. He had managed to track her down to the sponsors lounge a little less than an hour ago and had watched her cozying up with the man ever since.

The man was nothing peculiar : older than Haymitch was by far certainly, dyed navy blue hair carefully arranged on his head to hide a growing baldness, a no-nonsense but still expensive grey suit, he was very clearly a Capitol man – not one he had seen before but new sponsors came in every year. What was peculiar was Effie's attitude.

Effie never needed much to get a man's attention, she was an expert at making heads turn. Her approach when she wanted to seduce someone was always to ignore them and play hard to get – he would know. She never looked like a lost puppy, desperate to please. He had never seen her acting like that until that day.

She was exceptionally pretty – fashion, that year, was less ridiculous than the one before that. She was wearing a white dress, a mix of lace and feathers, with a scarlet wig made of a thousand little braids pulled over a shoulder – reminiscent of the previous year Games' winner hairstyle – and a large belt, high heeled shoes and gloves matching the color of her wig. The make-up was over the top but it always was outside of the penthouse. The outfit, in any case, flattered her already perfect figure. His eyes kept wandering to her legs and he couldn't understand how the man she was talking with remained unmoved.

Her smile was so bright… She kept touching his arm to bring his attention back to her when the man's eyes darted away in obvious boredom, she pressed against him, she laughed too hard… The man nodded at times and offered her indulgent smiles but Haymitch could tell he wasn't completely listening to what she was saying and she realized it, hurt flashed on her face every now and then.

He knew he was one to talk but Haymitch didn't like to see her so easily brushed aside.

Nobody should ignore Effie Trinket.

"Is he loaded or what?" Chaff frowned, probably noticing her uncharacteristic behavior. "That's not her usual play."

Seeder appeared before Haymitch could venture a guess, chiding Chaff for letting her do all the work and whacking Haymitch's shoulder with a rebuff to go and aid his own escort.

Aid his own escort didn't seem such a bad idea at the moment because Effie seemed to be growing more and more desperate. It only got worse when another woman arrived – around Effie's age, he mused – and kissed the man on the cheek when he greeted her with a warm smile. She kissed Effie too but the escort didn't look thrilled by her presence.

Whatever the woman was saying, it must have been riveting because the man didn't look away from her once. Effie's smile became strained and Haymitch decided enough was enough. The odd feeling of jealousy aside, he hated to think a man would treat her badly – glass houses notwithstanding.

He marched on the trio and only stopped when he was standing next to his escort, sliding a possessive hand on her waist. She battled it away instinctively but not quickly enough to prevent the man from glaring at Haymitch.

"You disappeared on me." he accused her. "You're not paid to flirt, sweetheart."

From up close, the man looked even older. He had at least twenty years on Haymitch if not thirty. What could she be doing with such an old man?, he wondered. As for the woman, she was young, beautiful even with the clownish make-up that the Capitol elite seemed to favor and very obviously rich.

"Haymitch, now is very much not the right time for your jokes." Effie hissed. "Go have a drink with Chaff."

"Don't you know it's rude not to introduce your friends? Where are your manners?" he taunted, extending his hand to the woman who looked amused by his antics. "Haymitch Abernathy. Charming and charmed."

"Now, who's flirting?" his escort muttered, low enough that he would be the only one to hear.

"Lyssandra Featherbee." the woman smiled. "Charming, charmed and unfortunately very married."

If Haymitch's smirk didn't falter it was by sheer force of will. What was Effie doing with a Gamemaker's wife?

"A shame." he deadpanned.

"Would you behave?" Effie growled, her blue eyes darting between him and the woman with obvious displeasure.

"Jealous, Princess?" he teased. She had some nerves. She sneaked out to meet her brand new – figure of speech because that man was almost a fossil – lover and she had the nerves to be jealous because of some innocent flirting?

She pursed her lips in a thin line, a warning for him to stay clear of that path.

"We should let you… work." The man spat the last word with obvious distaste. He didn't look much more pleased by what he was seeing around him in the sponsors' lounge. "I'm sure you have a lot of things to do. Do try to visit tonight."

"I will try." Effie's smile was fake.

"I didn't catch your name." Haymitch sneered before the man could leave. "A bit rude… I've been told manners are important in this part of the country…"

"Haymitch!" Effie squealed. "You're embarrassing me."

"When don't I?" he snorted.

The man forego answering his question. He leaned in to peck her cheek, very much ignoring the victor. "I will see you later, darling. Are you coming, Lyssa?"

"Yes." the woman nodded but the man was already walking away. Her smile was almost predatory as she studied Haymitch one last time. "It was interesting." She glanced at Effie and winked. "I can see why you like him."

And then she was gone, leaving Haymitch to face Effie's very serious glaring.

"What?" he grumbled. "You were taking forever. You're supposed to help me with sponsors not fan over your lovers."

The glare morphed into a surprised expression. "My what?"

"That one's shady, you know." he frowned, trying to catch a glimpse of the man in the crowd. "And what's with the age difference? Seriously, I know you like them older but that's pushing it a bit far, isn't it? He's ancient. Can he even…"

"Stop, right there." she interrupted him with a disgusted face, placing a hand on his arm. "That was my father."

Father…

"You have a father?" Ridiculous question. Obviously she had a father.

"No, I magically came to existence out of thin air." She rolled her eyes. "What do you think, Haymitch?" Haymitch thought he was an idiot. "And the woman you were so very clearly attracted to was my sister."

"Younger sister?" was all he found himself able to say.

"Older sister." she scowled. If glares could kill, Haymitch would have been rolling dead on the floor.

His brain however didn't seem to understand that it was in his best interest to just shut up. "You're desperate for your father's attention, aren't you, sweetheart?"

The way she had been gripping his arms, trying to get him back into a conversation each time his eyes had started to wander… The way her father had so easily listened to her sister when Effie had to fight for him to pay attention…

It explained many things.

"Why were you jealous?" she countered without missing a beat.

"Who says I was?" he scoffed.

"Oh, please, Haymitch, if you think I haven't noticed your staring… As for that pitiful attempt at making me jealous by chatting up my sister…" she chuckled.

"Maybe I like your sister." he shrugged. "She's pretty enough."

A flicker of hurt or betrayal – he wasn't sure which – flashed in her eyes. It was gone in a blink and he was faced with the carefully constructed mask of the escort : cheerful, smiling and oh so very fake.

"Don't be like that…" he sighed, nudging her in the direction of the door.

"We need to talk to sponsors." she objected but it was mild. They wouldn't get any sponsors, they never did. And they certainly had next to no chance while the glamorous victors were hunting for some. Their best bet was always to corner sponsors at parties or outside the Training Center.

"Later." he dismissed her, guiding her to the elevator with a hand on her back.

"I'm not in the mood for whatever you have in mind." she warned him.

Yet, when the elevator's doors closed behind them and he pinned her gently against the wall, she didn't quite say no. She placed her hands on his chest, keeping him at bay but not pushing him away.

"New rules." she said suddenly.

"I wasn't aware we had rules." He lifted his eyebrows in mock surprise.

"Now we have." she pouted. "You can have any woman in Panem but not my sister. Her or me. Your choice."

He wondered what she thought he was doing behind her back. She must have known he wasn't exactly sleeping around anymore… One night stands seemed a lot of efforts when Effie was right there and willing. Besides, he didn't really want anyone else anyway.

"Sounds like an ultimatum to me, sweetheart." he stated carefully. "I don't like that."

"Her or me." she repeated firmly, avoiding his eyes. She was displaying a vulnerability he wasn't familiar with. She was a very confident woman who knew perfectly well how good she looked, she was almost cocky at times, he had never ever seen her looking that insecure.

"How many men chose her over you?" he asked.

She had told him once that he had a gift to strike right where it hurt.

She did push him away then, pressing the ground floor button just as the elevator opened on the penthouse. "We need sponsors. There is a new hype club on Main Street, a lot of rich people who don't know what to do with their money."

"Like your sister." he observed.

"Would you drop the matter?" she retorted. "You made your choice clear. I wouldn't expect her to sponsor Twelve if I were you though."

"No choice to make." he sighed, placing his hands on her waist from behind. He dropped a kiss on her nape, smirking when he felt the shiver running down her spine. "She's pretty but you're prettier."

"Liar." she hissed.

"See…" he snorted, pushing the button to go up to the penthouse again when the doors opened on the ground floor. "You're never happy."

"How many trips up and down do you plan to make?" she said ironically. "I would like to step out of this elevator at some point."

"I don't know. How many trips will it take for you to stop acting so bitchy because your sister is your Daddy's favorite?" he snapped back.

She flinched.

"She isn't." she whispered.

"If you say so." he shrugged.

He felt bad and he hated feeling guilty for snapping at her. He had a right to snap at her, she was his escort, she was a Capitol.

"She's not that pretty, you know." he lied when the elevator reached the penthouse but neither of them moved to get out. He tentatively placed his hands on her waist again. "You have better legs." She leaned against his chest a little so he wrapped his arms around her midsection and propped his chin on her shoulder. "Nothing to be jealous of."

"I mean it, Haymitch." she said. "She's out of bound if you wish to continue with our arrangement."

"It's like you don't know me at all…" he sneered. "The more you say I can't, the more I want to…" She tried to get away from him, struggling against his grip when he only tightened his embrace. He rolled his eyes. "I'm joking. Effie, stop being stupid for five minutes, would you? I'm not interested."

She finally relaxed and turned around in his arms. "Swear it."

"Since when are you insecure?" he asked.

"I'm not insecure." she huffed, pushing him against the wall. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him into a kiss that left him breathless. Her point was made though. "Swear it, now."

"I swear." he sighed.

"Good." She smoothed his jacket, reached for the ground floor button and then took off her glove to rub at his mouth. "Lipstick." she explained. "Now let's find some sponsors."