Prompt : Hey, could you write something for Halloween about Hayffie? Like them going to a Halloween themed party or carving a pumpkin together or anything? I'd love to read it. :)

I'm not really sure they would traditionally do Halloween the usual way in Twelve. That seems more of a Capitol thing to do to me so I improvised =)

Happy Halloween everyone!

Trick Or Treat

Effie and her numerous Capitol traditions were a pain in the ass.

She had been staying in Twelve for about a year and in that year he had been forced to celebrate Christmas, New Year's Eve, Valentine's day and too many other things he had lost count of. And, of course, to her, celebrating meant throwing a party. People didn't throw parties that often in Twelve. They were the talk of the town – not that he cared what everyone thought about them but he hated parties, all the more so when he wasn't allowed to touch the booze because 'you're the host, Haymitch'.

So when she had started talking about Halloween, he had quickly put his foot down : no party, no trick and treating – whatever it was – and no costumes. He had granted her the carved pumpkins because it felt like a good compromise and it seemed innocent enough – until she had him emptying the pumpkins and Peeta carving, at least; she hadn't wanted to risk breaking a nail.

She placed a bowl full of candies on the table next to the front door and slapped his hand when he tried to grab a handful.

"That's for the children, Haymitch." she rebuked.

He rolled his eyes with annoyance at having to repeat himself. "No one will show up, Effie."

They didn't go trick or treating in Twelve. Halloween wasn't a fun day with costumes and gentle horror like it was in the Capitol. People lighted candles to mark the passing of loved ones if they could afford the candles at all. There were six candles neatly aligned behind the sink, in front of the window. He didn't know if Effie knew what they meant but when she had found him staring at them, she had squeezed his hand and had placed a kiss on his cheek before resting her head on his shoulder for a second.

There used to be only two candles. Now it wasn't only his brother and mother but Chaff, Mags, Prim and Finnick.

From his bedroom, he could see the candles dancing in front of the kids' living-room window. As many as he had, maybe more.

"It doesn't hurt to be prepared." she argued, leading him back to the living-room by the hand. "Capitol traditions have been slipping through the Districts and I think it's a good thing. Now sit, I will go change and then I will get the wine."

He perked up at the mention of wine and sat on the couch, studying the blankets she had tossed there in confusion. What sort of evening was she planning? He had said no party but clearly they were having one of their own. There were movies boxes neatly piled on the coffee table, he browsed through them and made a face. He wasn't a fan of movies in general – he usually grabbed a book or fell asleep halfway through when she insisted he needed to watch something with her – but horror films were even less appealing.

He heard the familiar sound of her heels softly clicking down the stairs and frowned.

"Weren't you going to change?" he called out.

"I did." she answered from the kitchen. She came into view a few seconds later, carrying two big bowls, one full of candies and the other full of popcorn. Not that he noticed the food. He was too busy staring at her.

He had thought she was putting her pajamas on, he hadn't known she had planned on wearing a costume.

"You're ridiculous." he croaked, his mouth suddenly very parched.

The costume was clearly meant to be a cat costume or at least he thought so. The soft looking black ears perking from her blond hair and the long white whiskers glued to her face at least gave that away. But the rest of it… The top was short, it stopped a few inches below her breasts but covered her arms to the wrists. There was a matching skirt that barely managed to keep her decent and that flopped around with her every step, a fake tail brushed the floor behind her and the boots… The boots were by far the worst – he might have mocked her heels for years but the heels had actually never really bothered him, not as much as the wigs and make-up, he loved the heels when they were buried in his lower back while he… – they hugged her legs higher than the knees, to her mid-thighs, making him wonder why she simply hadn't put on pants. Not that he was regretting her choice.

"Have you stared your full?" she grinned knowingly. "I will get the wine."

She sauntered away, the tail undulating left and right with the gentle but accentuated swing of her hips. When she came back with two glass wines and a new bottle of white – he liked red better but he didn't say anything because he knew she didn't – he couldn't help staring again. All the more so when she slightly bent at the waist to pour the wine and he had a very good view of the kind of lingerie she was wearing underneath.

"That's a new definition of trick or treat, sweetheart." he snorted, reaching out to wrap an arm around her leather clad leg.

She giggled but playfully whacked his arm away. "Later, Haymitch. I know your understanding of dates is a little rusty but sex only comes at the end."

"I don't do dates." he grumbled.

"You do tonight." she retorted, flipping through the collection of movies.

"I'm gonna get a boner every time I see a cat." he scoffed. "I hope you're happy now."

"Do try to refrain in front of Buttercup, dear. I am not sure he is ready for that." she mocked, settling on a movie and putting it in the player. Then she lighted candles, switched off the lights and finally settled on the couch, manhandling him until she could cuddle against him and still have the bowls of candies and popcorn wedged on the couch, in easy reach.

"How do you even like horror movies?" he sighed when the title appeared, all leaking fake blood. He could already tell it would be a long night. "You're going to get scared ten minutes in and then you will complain about nightmares all night, sweetheart."

"Don't be ridiculous, it's just a movie, it's not real." she huffed. "I guest stared in a few of them in my youth, thank you very much."

"It's boring, that's what it is." he sighed, dropping a handful of popcorn in his mouth in a way that made her scowl.

"This one is a good one." she argued. "Now, hush. Let's watch the movie."

The movie was awful.

He supposed it might be considered good in the sense that the gore felt realistic. She giggled and laughed a lot but Haymitch startled at every jump scare and had to look away every time someone ended up eviscerated. It was hitting a little too close to home. He gave up on the food to sip the wine.

He was buzzed by the time it was over and she put on another one. She had clearly picked up on his discomfort because she promised there would be less blood and gore in that one. It was about ghosts, she said.

It was even worse.

He kept jumping – which didn't settle right with his ego – when she never batted an eyelash. The house was creaking and cracking, like every day, but suddenly the noises were disturbing and concerning. Even the low buzz of the fridge in the kitchen felt threatening.

His adrenaline levels were sky rocking by the time she realized what was going on and frowned. It seemed PTSD and horror movies weren't made to go hand in hand.

"We can stop." she offered.

"I'm fine." he growled, refusing to admit being scared when she was laughing in the face of horror. She was used to movies, she had grown up with them, Haymitch wasn't.

She pursed her lips and tilted her head but didn't call him out on his lie, allowing him his pride. Instead, she started nuzzling his neck. He squirmed because the fake whiskers were tickling him but he was only too happy to grab what he could under that skirt. When she stopped nuzzling to kiss and nibble, he pulled her on his lap and entirely forgot about the movie and its horrors.

She was good at distracting him from his demons.

Always had been.

Things were just starting to get interesting – in the sense that he had found the button holding the skirt in place – when a really real knocking sound echoed through the house.

They both startled this time but Effie was the first one to recover, reaching for the remote on the coffee table to switch off the TV and climbing off his lap to answer the door. Haymitch followed, not entirely convinced there wouldn't be a serial killer with an axe right behind the door. It was only a small group of children though and Effie greeted them all with a dazzling smile, complimenting them on their costumes. He grabbed the bowl of candies before she could start giving them out and emptied it in one of the kids' bag.

"Share it." he commanded and then slammed the door in their faces.

"Haymitch, really…" she scowled.

The rest of that sentence was muffled by his mouth as he trapped her against the door.

"So…" he snorted against her lips. "Do you want the trick or the treat first, Princess?"