Prompt : Mais oui. This is related to Res Handed: I think you should take Thursday's prompt and write a similar one with Effie being the one who gets interrupted. Please please please please please please please.

365 chapters… A whole year of hayffie…

Red Handed was chapter 320 but this can stand alone.

Warning for some crack and steam.

A Helping Hand

Too much stress made Effie cranky and there weren't so many means at her disposal to relieve that stress on the Victory Tour train. She was halfway through her emergency cigarettes pack already – and she hardly ever smoke since she had kicked off the habit years earlier – and she absolutely refused to over indulge in liquor – one drunk per train was enough in her opinion. With no opportunity to go out shopping or dancing or to watch mind numbing shows on TV, it only left one other option. At any other time, in any other place, she would have gone out to a bar, found a man she liked and brought him back home.

On the train, those choices were limited to Haymitch, Cinna and Peeta – she wouldn't consider the staff, and the prep teams were beneath her. The simple idea of thinking about Peeta in that way made her want to be sick, she wasn't crazy enough to try and seduce Cinna when Portia was nearby and Haymitch… Well. That was a can of worms she didn't want to open.

Which, really, brought it down to her and her hands.

She had toys in the Capitol – everyone had toys in the Capitol – but she hadn't dared bring them on the train in case someone – and since there was only one person who would be nosy enough to snoop through her drawers that meant Haymitch – would find them. She wasn't embarrassed about owning those kind of things, why would she be? But Haymitch had a way of making her feel ashamed of the stupidest things.

Relaxing on that train was an impossible mission. Even at night, even in her bed, she was still somehow scared Peacekeepers would break her door down, gather everyone in the living room car and start shooting without asking questions. She had seen the state of the Districts… She had seen how easily crowds were moved by Katniss and Peeta…

She forced those thoughts out of her head and tried to relax. She took a deep breath and let her hand wander down her stomach. She conjured her favorite fantasy, her favorite actor – that somehow always ended up looking like Haymitch but she wasn't looking into that too closely – and she let her imagination do the rest.

She was just starting to feel pleasure building when there was a single knock on her door followed by said door being pushed open and she could do nothing but freeze as Haymitch stumbled in, not even having the decency to be drunk.

"Trinket, you've got any painkillers?" he mumbled, as if it was completely normal to barge in someone's room after midnight to ask for painkillers. "My head is…" He stopped abruptly when he took sight of her.

There were so many things to be horrified about Effie didn't know where to start : the lack of wig and make-up? The doe caught in headlights expression? The fact that one of her hand was inside her shorts and the other under her silk top so obviously clutching at her breast?

His grey eyes roamed everywhere before locking with hers, wide and completely taken aback. Then a smirk slowly made its way to his mouth and he licked his lips. "Need a hand?"

It was so ridiculous – and also, she couldn't help but notice, at least a little serious – that it broke her out of her shock. She grabbed the spare pillow and flung it at his head.

"No manners!" she screeched. "Can't you wait to be invited in? Can't you?!"

"Geez, sorry, sweetheart…" he snorted, tossing the pillow back at her. "'Couldn't know you were scratching an itch."

"You could have done the proper thing and waited outside." she grumbled, her cheeks flushing red. "What was the emergency?"

"I had a headache." he retorted, very obviously leering at her chest. "Now I have a boner."

"Haymitch!" she hissed.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I just caught you with your hand in your pants, so the Miss Proper act... I'm not buying it anymore." he scoffed.

She glared at him. "There are painkillers in my bathroom cabinet."

He headed there without waiting, barely pausing to wriggle his eyebrows at her. "Don't let me keep you. Go back to it."

"Ruffian!" she called after him, not bothering to get out of bed. He would made a mess of her perfectly organized bathroom but she couldn't begin to care. She was horny and frustrated now and it was never a good combination.

"Whatever turns you on, sweetheart." he chuckled, coming back in her bedroom, popping a pill.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't even think about joking about this in front of the others."

"Or what?" he challenged, leaning against the wall and folding his arms over his chest.

"I have enough embarrassing stories about you, Haymitch." she warned.

"I'm not easily embarrassed, Princess." he snorted. "Unlike you."

"Really?" she hissed. "How about the time you were so drunk you insisted on declaring your undying love to the statue in the middle of the square? If I hadn't intervened Chaff would have let you marry the damn thing. I am certain Finnick has pictures."

"Swearing now…" he smirked. "My, my, Miss Trinket… How the mighty have fallen…"

"Oh, will you stop!" She hurled the pillow at him again and was once again annoyed when he managed to catch it. "I have a thousand embarrassing stories ! You kissed Chaff! Full on the mouth!"

"Shut up, I didn't." he grumbled, tossing the pillow back at her head with irritation.

"Oh, yes, you did!" she triumphed. "And you swore me to secrecy. Well. Your secret for mine. Get out and forget everything you saw in there. Nothing happened."

He glared at her for a second and then surrendered. "Fine. Nothing happened."

"Good." She gritted her teeth "Now, out."

He gave her a mock bow and then headed out but not before stopping briefly on the threshold. "If you need a hand, you know where my room is, sweetheart."

She tossed the pillow for the third time.

It bounced back on the closed door.

And, dammit, she couldn't get his offer out of her head.