prompt : Hi are you still taking prompts for your fanfic on Haymitch and Effie? If you are my idea is Effie falls into a swimming pool (like what happened to Liz) when she's with Haymitch and the other victors. Thanks :-)

And

prompt : May I prompt? Haymitch and Effie are at one of these fancy Capitol parties and this time, there is a pool somewhere involved. And Effie accidentally or because Haymitch not so accidentally pushes her a little bit, falls into it. And Haymitch needs to save her because she either can't swim or because she can't get out with her dress and her high heels? And then both are soaked and need to make their way out of the party. And things could get a little steamy in the elevator. Thank you sooo much!

Drowning In A Pink Pool Lacks Class

Like everything else in the Capitol, the pool was disproportionate : huge, deep and with pinkish hues from the special lights on the side. It looked like an unnatural pond. For once, though, Haymitch wasn't complaining because it was almost unbearably hot that night and the party was packed with people who stayed close to the pool edge in a desperate attempt to cool down.

"Who's your money on this year?" he asked Chaff, slowly sipping from his glass. With the heat, beverages were hard to come by, the bar was packed, and he was determined to enjoy the ice quickly melting in his glass for no other reason that he was liquefying in his suit. He had already lost the jacket somewhere and undone his tie – and Trinket had glared from the other side of the pool when she had seen that but he had simply toasted her; there were entirely too many people for her to attempt to walk all around the pool an scold him, which was a blessing because he could do without having to hear her high-pitched voice for a few hours.

"On me, I hope." Finnick joked, good naturally, licking at the rapidly melting ice-cream and winking at a nearby Capitol woman who was staring a little too intensely.

"On Six." Chaff shrugged. "Sorry, boy." Eleven's victor's eyes suddenly lighted up and he bumped Haymitch in the shoulder with his stump. "Check this out. That's going to be interesting."

Haymitch turned around and searched the other side of the pool for what had grasped his friend's attention. It wasn't difficult to find : their escorts were at it again, in the middle of a circle of people who had wisely stepped aside to let them argue all their might. For all her recriminations when he caused a scene, Trinket was quick to forget her own rules when Viola Summercket was involved. He didn't know what they were arguing about – and it didn't matter anyway, they were never lacking a subject – but it looked tensed.

"A bottle of that wine of yours on Trinket." he said quickly because he had been looking for a way to extort Chaff a bottle of Eleven's wine for a while now.

Chaff watched for a few second and then waved that offer off. "Your girl has her murderous face on. No way, buddy."

"Not my girl." he grumbled.

"Not yet." Finnick sing-sang behind him like the stupid teenager he wasn't completely anymore.

"Not ever." he snapped. "She's a pain in the ass."

"Which is exactly as you like your women." Chaff pointed out, not without reason. "I bet she's a tiger in the sack…"

That, Haymitch had no doubt about. For all her Miss Prim and Proper act, Trinket was fiery and sassy and entirely too sexy for someone who wore as much make-up as a clown. And she also always had to get the last word which didn't sit well with him but if she was half as passionate between the sheet as she was in life, then…

"Ah, here we go." Chaff snorted.

The noise of hundreds of conversation prevented them from hearing what was happening precisely but at the triumphant way Trinket threw her head back to laugh and then finished her flute of champagne, it was obvious she had won whatever argument she and Viola were having. Eleven's escort was practically seething with anger and Haymitch winced a second before it happened. It was Trinket's fault. She shouldn't have looked away from her enemy, she should have known better. She let out a piercing shriek when Viola pushed her, she stupidly batted her arms to gain her balance back but, ultimately, she crashed in the pool.

"Maybe I should have bet that bottle after all." Chaff mocked.

Haymitch rolled his eyes and took a sip, watching her surface back with a breathless gasp. She had fallen a few feet away from the edge and was struggling to get back to safety, her dress puffing all around her. The way she was frantically agitating her arms wasn't the most effective.

People were laughing all around, some were openly mocking her, others were pointing their fingers… She would just love that, he figured, already wondering how long she would last once she would be out of the pool before begging him to take her back to the penthouse where she could lick her bruised ego in peace.

She disappeared under the surface once again and Haymitch frowned. People were still laughing and pointing, he silently counted down the seconds.

"Can she swim?" Finnick asked.

Dread suddenly made Haymitch's stomach churn and, without thinking twice about it, he forced his glass into his friend's hands, kicked off his shoes and dove. He didn't even pause, he swam in her direction, following the huge bubble that were appearing on the surface. He heard another splash behind him and guessed Finnick had realized there was a problem too. He reached her first and dove, cursing the depth of the pool and his ridiculous escort who always had to antagonize crazy chicks. He blindly grabbed a handful of fabric and pulled her up, relieved when another dark shadow reached them, and tugged on the other side.

He, Trinket and Finnick broke the surface at the same moment with the same urgent need for air. Trinket coughed water and gasped, clawing desperately at his neck in her need to remain afloat. She was in a complete state of panic and that didn't help them in any way.

"For fuck's sake, calm down!" Haymitch snapped, as she accidentally forced his head under the water for the second time. He gripped her wrists to keep her away from him. Finnick tried to grab her from behind like they did with the drowned people in Four but he failed and Trinket ended up with her arms around Haymitch's neck again, sobbing and coughing water all at once. He was straining to keep both of their heads above the water line.

"The dress is too heavy!" Finnick shouted.

She was desperately kicking with her legs – against his knees.

"She's still got her heels on." he shouted back. "She can't swim."

"You've got your knife?" Four's victor asked, while, at last, people were starting to realize something wasn't right and maybe they should stop laughing and help. They were talking about calling for help. Haymitch almost wanted to tell them to go fuck themselves. He pulled out his knife with some difficulties and handed it to Finnick before wrapping his arms back around her and kicking for the both of them.

"Haymitch, I don't want to die." she sobbed in his neck.

"Nobody's dying." he scowled. "We're not dying in a fucking pink swimming pool."

Finnick made a quick job of cutting off half her dress. With less fabric pulling her down, she calmed down a little and he and Finnick managed to bring her back down to the edge of the pool. Chaff had been waiting there and hauled her out of the water by the back of her dress.

"It's okay, love." Eleven's victor hushed her when she started crying. "It's okay, I've got you."

It was obvious she was upset. She would never have clung to Chaff like she did otherwise. Someone started clapping and, by the time, Haymitch dragged himself over the edge of the pool, people were cheering.

"Let's get her inside." he growled, wary of the flashes.

She wouldn't appreciate pictures of her in a torn apart dress with her wig hanging so low on the side he could guess at reddish hair, and make-up running down her cheeks. The second she heard his voice, she latched herself at him, locking her arms around his neck in a death-grip. He had no other choice but to slip his arm under her knees and lift her up before rushing in the hotel the party was taking place in. Someone from the staff guided them to a private sitting room where blankets were already waiting. Finnick handed him one and he settled Effie on a couch before wrapped it around her shivering frame.

"Stop weeping, sweetheart." He nudged her not so gently. "You're safe now."

She wouldn't let go of him anyway. With a sigh, he rubbed her back.

"She's in shock." Finnick declared.

"Yeah, thank you, boy, we kind of figured that." Chaff scoffed, placing a glass full to the brim with an amber liquid directly into Haymitch's line of sight. He snatched it, took a welcomed sip and then forced her to detach herself from him enough that he could bring the glass to her lips. She turned her head away but he was stubborn.

"Just drink it." he commanded.

She took a reluctant sip and then another. At the third, she grabbed the glass and consented to let go of his neck. At the fourth, she started muttering something that awfully sounded like "She's going to pay for this.".

"You can't kill her, sweetheart." Haymitch snorted. "I don't fancy finding a new escort 'cause mine got thrown in jail."

"You won't heard any complaining from me." Chaff chuckled. "I could do with a new escort."

Trinket was still shaking but, Haymitch quickly realized, it was in utter fury.

"I mean it literally." she growled. "She will pay for the shoes and the dress and my wig and everything. I should sue her, that little…" She pursed her lips at the last possible moment.

"Bitch?" Finnick suggested helpfully.

"Yes!" she hissed.

"Well, if she's back to talking about shoes, she won't keel over any time soon." Chaff taunted. "Come on, boy. Haymitch can deal with his escort."

"Thank you." Trinket said quietly before they left. She looked miffed at having to thank Eleven's victor so Haymitch decided she truly was back to normal.

"Anytime. I love rescuing damsels in distress." Finnick winked at her and then, not subtly at all, winked at Haymitch. "I leave you in expert hands."

Haymitch rolled his eyes and stole the glass of whiskey from her to have another sip.

"Let's go back to the penthouse, yeah?" he suggested, handing her the glass back. "I've had enough emotions for the night. I will go ask for the car."

She grabbed his wrist with her free hand before he could step away from the couch and tugged so he would sit back down.

"Thank you for saving me." she declared very seriously. Then she leaned in and he couldn't help but hold his breath while she pressed a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

"I almost drown for you and that's all the reward I get?" he smirked. "I will think twice before jumping next time."

It was a lie naturally. He didn't like her much but that didn't mean he wanted her dead. As far as escorts went, he had had worse. And he enjoyed their fighting more than he probably ought to.

She pursed her lips and tilted her head in that manner she had when she wanted him to understand she was finding him insufferable, but her eyes were sparkling with amusement.

"What do you want?" she asked.

He knew what he wanted to request for and he knew, at that second, she would probably have granted his wish. He could have booked a room for the night and asked her to follow him upstairs and she would probably have done it.

But that was a bad idea if he ever had one and he tended to stay clear of those when he was sober enough to think properly.

"You let me drink in peace for the rest of the Games." he demanded instead.

He wondered if he imagined or not the glint of disappointment in her blue eyes.

"Two days." she retorted. "That's all I am willing to give."

"A week." he bargained, helping her up so they could request their car and go back.

"Two days, Haymitch." she repeated firmly.

"Five." he insisted.

"That's it. None." she decided. "That should teach you to be greedy."

"I'm greedy?" he scoffed. "You're the greediest person I know! You're…"

He fell back into their usual bantering because it was familiar ground.

And he was still tempted to ask her up.