prompt: Effie actively working against Haymitch, he thinks she's actually against him but there's more behind it

Prerogatives

Haymitch stormed in the penthouse like a man's possessed.

He had occasionally been angry with Effie over the years – annoyed and irritated by her too – but he had never truly been furious for something she had done. Unlike the other escorts who had been there before her, he had never ever felt the urge to sack her or get rid of her.

That changed today apparently.

"Trinket!" he yelled, loud enough that Avoxes scattered back to wherever they came from.

He found her in the living-room, sponsors files spread all around the coffee table and the carpet in a perfect circle around her as was her usual method. She scrambled up when she saw him and lifted both of her hands in a defensive gesture.

"I can explain." she said.

"Yeah?" he hissed. "Explain then. Why in Panem did you cancel our only offer for sponsorship when we finally have a shot?"

Their male tribute had managed to survive long enough to be amongst the last ten survivors. They had a shot. And he had worked, and smiled, and laughed, and charmed to get money out of a Capitol woman only to be told when he was about to close the deal that his escort had made it clear they weren't interested anymore.

"Explain to me why that boy is going to die!" he shouted, stomping on the files to get closer to her. He grabbed her arm and shook her, which – admittedly – wasn't the best idea he ever had. He had been mostly sober those last few days though and it was starting to take its toll. "Explain!"

"You're hurting me!" Effie protested, trying to free herself from his grip.

Instead of letting her go, he pushed her and pinned her to the wall. "Too bad. You think that kid won't be hurting when someone kill him because you tossed our only deal in the trash?"

"Unhand me at once." she ordered, clawing at his chest with her free hand. He clasped her wrist and trapped it against the wall, well over her head. "Haymitch." she hissed but there was no hiding the trace of fear in her voice. "Unhand me. At once."

"Explain." he spat. "And you better be convincing or you're fired."

She froze. "You wouldn't. You can't. You don't have that kind of power."

"Watch me." he challenged, so close to her face he had no doubt she could smell the faint trace of whiskey on his breath.

She licked her lips nervously, her eyes darting left and right. He could feel her heart hammering in her chest.

"The sponsor you chose, that woman…" she hesitated, making an effort to sound calm. "The money wouldn't have been free."

"Nothing never is in this bloody place." he retorted.

Her eyes turned pleading. "She would have expected something else in return, Haymitch. I heard her. She said she wanted you to…"

"That wasn't your call to make." he interrupted her.

"But don't you see?" she begged. "You gave in to one of them and they will all expect more from you."

He stared at her for a few seconds and then loosened his grip on her so it wouldn't be as painful. "It wasn't your call to make."

"I was protecting you." she argued. "That's my prerogative."

"Not if we can save a tribute." He shook his head and stepped away from her. He could feel the rage deflating to something like helplessness. "You killed that boy, Effie, and for what?"

"He is dead anyway." she whispered. "You said it to Chaff. You said even with a sponsor…"

"Are you done listening to people's private conversation?" he snapped back, walking to the liquor cart to pour himself a glass of whiskey. "I should sack you."

"You can't." she protested.

He downed his glass in one go. "You worked against me. If I report you, you're fired."

"If you report me, I will be in more trouble than just being fired and you won't do that." she replied. It was true, he figured. "Because you will protect me."

"So sure of yourself." he snorted.

"We protect each other." she insisted. "This is how we work, Haymitch."

She walked closer and he let her. The hand she placed on his shoulder was tentative but it grew more confident when he didn't shrug it off and squeezed gently.

"Please." she begged.

"Never do that again." he warned her. "You work with me not behind my back, we're clear?"

He heard her breathing out in relief and then felt the small weight of her head as she leaned her forehead between his shoulder blades. "I was protecting you."

And it was probably the only reason she was still alive right now.

It scared him sometimes, how out of control he could get.

"Don't do it again." he insisted.

It didn't escape his notice that she didn't promise anything.