Prompt : if you're still doing prompts! effie is actually so nice and has sort of befriended people in 12 after mj and is asked out in front of haymitch and its not like they're anything so why is haymitch so angry

Plumbers, Friends and Boyfriends

A drop of water hit him straight on the face, ran down his nose and on his cheek.

Haymitch glared harder at the mumbo-jumbo of pipes.

There were a lot of better ways to spend a morning, he thought, than laying on his back in Peeta's – now solely Effie's, he supposed – old house, his upper body under the kitchen sink and his legs regularly kicking at a chair he didn't have the foresight to push aside.

A leak, she had said, a small tiny leak, surely he could do something for her as a good neighbor ought to? He blamed the smile. She didn't smile often enough since the war and when she did – a genuine one – well… Haymitch had a tendency to cave.

Except, he wasn't a plumber and he was starting to suspect even Katniss would have done a better job than he was.

He lightly tapped on one of the pipes with the wrench and was rewarded with a steady stream of water.

"Shit." he spat, wrapping his hand around the pipe to stop the flow.

Of course, because Haymitch was a very lucky person that was the moment the kitchen door opened on her cheerful chatting – because she had dragged him out of bed and to her kitchen but she hadn't stayed to help; boring she had said and she needed groceries.

He could hear soft laughter and he wondered who it was who managed to make her giggle like that. Peeta or Katniss probably. Still, it was rare enough that he relished the sound.

"You can put them on the table." she instructed. "Thank you so much for helping me. Truly, you didn't have to. You were a lifesaver."

He rolled his eyes. Effie and her exaggerations.

"You're very welcome." came the reply. Not at all Peeta or Katniss but a male voice, rough with the dragging accent characteristic of Ten.

Haymitch startled enough that he bumped his head on the pipes. It did nothing for the general plumbing. His hand slipped and the water hit him straight in the face again, soaking him to the bones.

"Fuck!" he shouted, blindly reaching for the pipe again.

"Oh, dear! Haymitch, are you alright?" Effie asked. He felt a hand on his thigh and looked up to see her crouching next to his leg, peering at his work. "It wasn't leaking that much before I left. What did you do?"

She sounded displeased. Trust Effie Trinket to sound displeased when you were trying to do her a favor.

"It got to be messy before I fix it." he snapped. "Mind your business, sweetheart. I know what I'm doing." He truly didn't but he decided she didn't need to know that.

She pursed her lips tight and narrowed her eyes but disappeared from his sight when she stood up again. All he could see of her now was the nice shape of her calves.

"I am so sorry about this, Fren." she apologized swiftly. Haymitch could hear the smile in her voice. "I have a leaking sink, as you can see."

Fren. Haymitch racked his brain but came to a blank. The accent was definitely from Ten though so it was likely he was one of those who had relocated after the rebellion.

"No problem." the guy replied. "Can I help? I know a thing or two about plumbing."

"I'm good." Haymitch grumbled.

"Oh, I would hate to trouble you…" Effie answered as if he hadn't spoken at all. "You already carried half of my groceries… I would hate to impose."

"Pretty ladies never impose." the man said, making Effie giggle again.

Seriously, what was it with the giggles today? For that only, he crawled from under the sink and waved at the guy to take his place. "Knock your head off."

He was surprised to find he meant that literally.

The guy was well-built : broad shoulders, lot of muscles, tanned skin, black silky hair and startling green eyes. When the man disappeared under the sink, Haymitch patted the small pouch of fat on his belly, strangely self-conscious.

Effie didn't notice, she was crouching next to the sink again, trying to follow what was going on. The hand she had placed on the guy's thigh was purely for steadying purposes, he thought, exactly like she had done with him. Still, it annoyed him.

Fren apparently did know something about plumbing because for a few minutes all they could hear was banging and clicking. Haymitch wandered to the grocery bags and rummaged inside until he found the only bottle of wine she had bought.

"Don't you dare, Haymitch." she warned without even glancing back at him, too busy peering at her new friend's work.

He placed the bottle down with a sulk and grabbed an apple instead. He leaned on the table and munched on it, trying to figure out what was going on.

Effie had been skittish when she had first arrived in Twelve with enough suitcases to fill a small room and a kicked puppy expression on her face. Peeta had taken her in without a second thought but she had stuck to the boy's house, only occasionally visiting him and the girl. She had been hiding even though he wasn't quite sure from what, the memories of her time in prison probably. It had taken a lot of coaxing on his part to get her out of the house, the kids hadn't even truly realized what her problem was, she had been too busy fussing over them for them to notice something was wrong with her aside for her nightmares. It hadn't been easy to make sure people accepted her either.

But now she was at ease in the District. She had her habits, her landmarks, her favorite shops and she even had a few friends – granted most of her friends had been the kids' or his first but she had made a few of her own. He wasn't sure about her tastes. That Fren guy seemed… stupid.

And why was he only hearing about that man now? She was always so happy to chat about everything and nothing… He tuned her out more often than not but was fairly certain he would have remembered her mentioning a guy who made her giggle.

He finished his apple at the same time the man finished to repair the sink. Ten minutes top, he estimated. Show off, he thought.

"Here you go." Fren said, getting up and helping Effie rise from her crouch. "As good as new." He proved it by opening and closing the tap a few times. The kitchen didn't become a swimming pool so Haymitch supposed he had done a good job.

"Oh, thank you!" Effie beamed, pressing a kiss to the man's cheek.

That was her natural tendency to be effusive. Haymitch didn't know where the soft growl that escaped his lips came from.

Effie was already busy filling a kettle with water, offering tea to everyone, but the guy was staring at her. Staring. Didn't he know it wasn't polite to stare?, he thought ironically.

Haymitch threw the apple's core at the bin a few feet away. The aim was a bit off, it bounced on the edge of the bin but still went inside which saved him from a long and boring lecture. Effie did glare briefly but went back to making tea.

Fren, he was pleased to notice, was startled enough that he stopped his creepy staring.

"I can't stay, I should go back to work." he said, his eyes darting curiously to Haymitch. "You never said you were living with someone."

Effie frowned, a cup in each hand, and then her eyes widened. "Oh, no, no, no! We don't live together, what a silly idea!" she laughed.

It was vexing.

"Very funny, yeah." Haymitch scowled.

"Don't be like that." she teased, bumping him playfully with her hip when she placed the mugs on the table. "Can you imagine us living together?" As alarming as it was, he found out he could. She was shaking her head, an amused smile on her lips. "We would kill each other."

"Don't know." he shrugged with a smirk. He looked at her up and down, openly checking her out. "I can think of very fun ways to kill you, Princess."

The guy was staring again but it was more calculating this time. He was trying to figure out what was going on between them, Haymitch supposed. Well… Good luck with that.

"Stop talking nonsense." she grinned. "And help me put the groceries away."

"I'm your slave today, ain't I?" he snorted. Yet, because he didn't like at all the way that man was watching her, he obediently took the food out of the bag and put it in its respective place.

"Thank you so much for helping me." Effie told the guy again. "Are you sure you don't want a cup of tea? That's the least I can do…"

"No, I…" the man shrugged with an impish smile. "Work, you know? I shouldn't have slipped away already."

"Oh, I do hope you won't get in trouble on my behalf." She bit her bottom lip in concern which seemed to transfix the guy.

Haymitch couldn't blame him.

He was also starting to wonder if she was doing it on purpose.

Why was she encouraging him?

"Don't worry." The man was obviously pleased by her attention. He glanced at Haymitch again and Haymitch made a point of folding his arms and leaning against the newly repaired sink. When it was clear he wouldn't give them the privacy the man obviously wished for, Fren rolled his eyes and grabbed Effie's hand. Haymitch wondered if he could crush it with a wrench and still make it pass for an accident.

It puzzled him.

The urge he felt to get that man's paws away from his former escort puzzled him.

"Sae's restaurant, you know it?" Fren asked her. "I heard it's good but I've never been. We could go, sometimes. I would like to take you."

Effie took a second longer than necessary to accept or refuse. Haymitch saw the opportunity and seized it.

"She's allergic." he said. "Sorry, boy, you need to find yourself another chick."

Fren clearly wasn't a boy and the derogatory term irritated him, that was plain to see. He wasn't the only one annoyed.

"Haymitch, I am no poultry." she hissed.

"Allergic?" the guy repeated. "Allergic to what?"

"Everything." he retorted. "She's also very busy. No time for dining out."

He had the unpleasant impression not only to be grasping at straws but also of being absolutely and completely ridiculous.

Effie was staring at him with bafflement – which, admittedly, confirmed his idea : it took a lot of stupidity to make Effie speechless.

"Well, I have nothing against dining in." Fren shot back. "More… intimate. What do you say, Effie?"

The guy squeezed her hand gently and it made Haymitch very mad without totally knowing why. That guy had no business squeezing her hand. Her hand was his to squeeze.

"She says she's not interested." he spat.

"It's funny…" Fren mocked. "I was about to say the same thing about you. Not sure she has a thing for filthy drunkards."

He didn't know what possessed him to pounce on him but if Effie hadn't swiftly placed herself in the middle, effectively blocking his path, he thought he would have punched the guy. His only consolation was that she had let go of the man's grip, both of her hands were firmly placed on his chest, probably to stop him from beating the man to a pulp – and he never stopped to consider the man's superior built or his own lack of physical exercise, he was a victor and he didn't play fair in a fight, if he wanted to he could win and he very much wanted to.

"I would like you to step out now, please." Effie said. Her voice was firm and cold. It was her escort voice of very bad days, the days when other escorts made fun of Twelve and she was too angry to care about looking bubbly.

Very mad, then.

The man looked smug.

"Sure." Haymitch chuckled bitterly. "Wouldn't dream of…"

"Not you." Effie cut him off, glancing back at the guy over her shoulder. "I do not stand for people insulting my friends. Thank you for your help today but I really think you should leave now."

Her hands, Haymitch noticed, never left his chest. She knew him very well and it was a good thing because when the man sneered, she had to push to keep him from trying to punch him again.

"Friends, yeah." Fren taunted. "You know, you could have said you weren't free. It ain't nice to make a guy hope for nothing." The man shook his head and left without any more drama, closing the door softly behind him.

It was then and only then that Effie took her hands away and dropped her gaze.

He didn't know what was so riveting about their shoes.

"Come on, yell already." he grumbled. "You're dying to, sweetheart."

Her silence was unsettling to say the least.

"I don't want to yell." she snapped.

The kettle whistled merrily on the stove and she stepped away to fill one of the mug with hot water. Only one, he couldn't help but notice.

"It's rude not to give your guest a hot beverage." he pointed out.

She spared him a glare and poured him a cup, not keen on being told off about her manners. They waited several minutes for the tea to brew and the water to cool down before taking careful sips in a quasi-religious silence.

"I liked him." she whispered at last.

Something ugly and burning hot coiled in his stomach.

"You shouldn't have kicked him out then." he sneered.

She gritted her teeth and brought her mug to her lips again, purely to waste time. He was well used to all her tactics. "What do you want from me?"

The question took him aback.

"What do you mean what do I want from you? I don't want anything." he scoffed.

She was calm now or, at least, she appeared to be. She placed her cup down and looked up at him. "You were jealous."

"No." he denied at once. Too quickly. It sounded off even to his own ears. He swallowed a big gulp of scalding tea, wishing it was something stronger. She pursed her lips and tilted her head and he was reminded, not for the first time, that, for better or for worse, she was the one who knew him best. The kids came close, of course, but there were things he was hiding from the kids, things Effie knew either because he had confessed them in a drunk speech or because she had coaxed them out of him. The reverse was true, she had confided in him things the kids would never be privy to. She was his best friend and lying to her would be a tad more complicated than a gruff denial over a cup of tea. "Maybe." he relented at last.

She seemed satisfied with that answer because she pried the mug from his fingers and placed it down next to hers on the table. "So let me ask you again. What do you want from me?"

He tucked a wayward strand of blond hair behind her ear, his mouth suddenly parched. He needed a drink. "Nothing."

"Then why do you care if I start dating again?" she sighed, shaking her head. "I can't do this anymore, Haymitch. I can't bear the tension, the…" Her voice trailed off but he didn't need her to explain, he knew. Tension was at the very core of their relationship, all kinds of tension really. But lately… "Are we friends or are we more?" she asked plainly.

That was a stupid question. He was overprotective of her at times, he knew, but it wasn't in a friendly or a brotherly way. What he felt for her was nothing friendly or brotherly.

"You hate me and I hate you." he reminded her but the words were empty, devoid of any anger or resentment. Perhaps it would have been easier if it had been true. He could manage hating her just fine, he wasn't as sure he could deal with the other feelings.

"The Games are over. The war is over." she countered. "Hatred is too destructive for me."

"That guy isn't good enough for you." he declared, feeling a switch of topic was in order.

"Is there any man out there you would deem good enough for me?" she deadpanned.

She wasn't expecting an answer, he knew, but he gave her one anyway. "No."

She rolled her eyes and fussed over the vase of flowers in the middle of the table. "You are, you know… Good enough for me. More than enough even."

"I'm really not." he snorted.

But no one would ever be so it might as well be him, he thought.

It was surprisingly easy to reach for her. When he thought about that guy's hands on her… It was easy to reach for her, what was difficult was to be gentle about it. She was wary of physical contact since her imprisonment, she was at ease with him and the kids by now but she didn't like being startled and he didn't want to force her. She didn't fight him though, she stepped closer when he tugged on her hand, closer and closer until there was next to no space left between them and he could smell nothing but the flowery fragrance of her perfume.

He didn't resist the pull in his guts when she leaned in, their lips brushed a few times, tentative and wary all at once. He figured they had both been abused too much to trust a gentle touch so easily even though they trusted the other completely.

"Do you really hate me?" she whispered. Her blue eyes were searching his for something, a proof he hadn't been serious.

"No." he offered truthfully for once. If he had ever hated her, it had faded away a long time ago, even before Katniss and Peeta came into their lives.

She coiled a hand behind his neck and pulled. There was nothing tentative or wary in that kiss. It was messy in all the right ways, almost frantic, fiery… Like their relationship in short. His hands roamed on her body, finding the hem of her dress and pushing it up while she tugged at the buttons of his shirt, he heard some of them rolling on the floor but he couldn't care less. There was no talk of slowing down, no question as to if they truly wanted this… He grabbed under her thighs and lifted her until she was sitting on the table. There would be time for slow later, he figured, time to explore and learn what they liked best but for now…

He heard a rip when he pull the dress over her head without bothering with the zipper. He thought she would freak out but she was too busy fumbling with his belt to care, she squeaked in triumph when the buckle gave in. His fingers were shaking and the clasp of her bra wouldn't come off, she lifted her arms with a knowing grin and he pulled that over her head too.

Then the grin faltered and she froze for a second, long enough for him to see her body in all its naked glory. The scars weren't a surprise but it sent his blood boiling. He knew what she was thinking and he kissed her before she could start feeling insecure. She was beautiful with or without the marks of torture marring her skin.

He got lost then.

Lost in the onslaught of sensations and feelings, lost in the softness of her skin and her burning kisses, lost in everything that was her.

There were things, he mused, that were worth getting lost in.