Prompt : I've a prompt if you like: Haymitch and the team see racy pics of Effie leaked from her rebel-inducing school days. And due to a miscommunication, Effie blames Haymitch for exposing them to the public. ILYSM
Reviews don't show up on ff because of a glitch but I do receive them so go crazy ;)
Also, I don't know what this is… Probably crack.
A Pact
Haymitch wasn't impatient to go back to the penthouse.
He and Trinket fought often, daily even, but there were fights and fights. It had almost become a routine to disagree with her on everything, to say black if she said white and up if she said down. He would have denied it on pain of death but he loved the banter, he loved that she could match him wits for wits, that she could hold her own, that he could push and she would push back without fear or question.
As far as escorts went and as loathe as he was to admit it – privately at least, he wasn't about to advertise it to her face – she was perfect for him. They worked well together – mostly because she did most of the work he couldn't be bothered to do, but when they actually worked as a team, they always got results. So he could pretend he didn't enjoy her presence all he wanted, the fact remained that he wouldn't want another escort – which was why he was so uneasy about the fight that had taken place that morning.
It had been violent from the get go. Haymitch had gotten up late with a hangover and not in a mood to be lectured about his appearance and behavior. Of course, she had lectured him from the very first moment he had sat at the dining room table for breakfast. He had an interview scheduled that day to talk about the recent loss of Twelve. He didn't want to talk on national TV. He didn't see the point. The kids were dead, the curtain had fallen, what was the point? He had told her she could go if she wanted to but he wouldn't. That hadn't gone down well. The argument had quickly morphed into a shouting match. Her nerves must have been more frayed than usual because she had tossed his own Games in his face, she had been in his space, screaming in his ear, and hearing her mentioning his Games… He had shoved her away from him. She had stumbled against the couch, unhurt but with a flash of fear and anger in her eyes. It had left him so unsettled he had lashed out with words he now sort of regretted even though it hadn't been the first time he had uttered them : she was an egotistical bitch, a monster so hungry for fame she would feed children to the wolves for fifteen minutes of celebrity, he hated her and he wanted her gone.
Usually, she would have shouted back with words just as painful about him but that time, she had remained there, gripping the back of the couch from when she had steadied herself, and she had taken it. Just taken it.
He had stormed out soon after but he hadn't even been able to enjoy his drinks to Chaff's upmost amusement. He had stopped at three glasses, guilt gnawing at him, unable to chase that hollow look in her eyes from his mind.
He wasn't impatient to go back to the penthouse and face her but the elevator chimed and there was no going back now. It would be like pulling off a band-aid, he figured, the quicker the better.
He hadn't been prepared to find her pacing in the living-room, clutching a phone to her ear, almost in hysterics, one of her hand buried in her wig.
"I'll pay for them!" she insisted. "You're my lawyer, do something! I didn't hire you to… I don't care if they don't want money I want those pictures and I want them now!"
She spotted Haymitch and she almost snarled. It wasn't a good look on her. She hung up without warning – a little rude, if he did say so himself – and marched to him with such a furious look on her face he quickly stepped back. His retreat was stopped by the wall and he barely had time to grab her wrist to prevent getting slapped.
"You, bastard!" she screeched, leaving him completely dumbfounded. Since when did she curse? "Where did you find them? Did you go through my things? Did you hire someone? Did you want me gone so badly you had to destroy me like this? I put up with your antics for four years, Haymitch. Four years. That's more than any other of your escorts. I deserved better. I deserved better!"
Annoyance quickly flared in his chest. "What are you screaming like a banshee about?"
"Like you don't know." she sneered. "In two hours, I will be destroyed. My reputation will be in tatters and my mother will disown me. I will have no choice but to step down. That's what you wanted, isn't it?" She shook her head, tearing her wrist free from his grip and walking away, burying her face in her shaking hands. "You win. You win, Haymitch. I will resign now. I will go to Head Gamemaker Torello this instant and tell him I resign. Please get the pictures back. Please."
She was in such a state of distress it wasn't even funny.
"Trinket, I have no idea what you're talking about." he said quietly, lifting his hands in a defensive stance.
"Please, stop this comedy." she chuckled bitterly, her voice breaking in the middle of it. He was afraid she would start sobbing. He had never seen her sob. He didn't particularly want to either. A sobbing Trinket would make her too… human. He was better off thinking about her as another Capitol drone. She shook her head and folded her arms over her chest. She looked too vulnerable, too desperate. "You won. You bested me. I will quit. Gloat if you must but, please, call them and get the pictures back. I will resign. What else do you want? Money? Sex? I will give you either. Just get those pictures back. Please."
Saying he was shocked was an understatement.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." he repeated. "Honestly, sweetheart. No idea. I was downstairs with Chaff."
It was like a puppet whose strings had been cut off. One minute she was standing, the next she was crumpled on the floor.
"Effie!" he called in worry before he could stop himself.
She hadn't fainted, not really. It was more like her legs wouldn't support her anymore. She huddled on herself and she flinched when he crouched next to her.
"If it's not you then there is nothing I can do…" she whispered. "They don't want my money. They…" She shook her head again and this time tears trailed down her cheeks. "I'm so stupid, so very stupid."
"Won't dispute that." he snorted without any heat. "What's going on?"
"Capitol Gossip has pictures of me from when I was seventeen." she explained between two pathetic sniffs. "They're going to release them on their TV channel in two hours." She checked her watch. "One hour and forty minutes now."
He rolled his eyes, suddenly more relaxed.
"That's it?" he mocked. "You're making all that fuss because of a few pictures of a teenage you? What? You had acne? Braces?"
"I'm naked on those pictures, Haymitch." she snapped.
That shut him up. He blinked, unable to reconcile the image of the Effie Trinket he knew with an Effie Trinket who would pose naked for someone.
"I had just started my modeling career." she explained. "My boyfriend was a photographer. I… I was young. They were private pictures." She sounded defensive. "I know it was stupid, I don't need to be told."
"Why are there still copies?" he asked instead.
She was too clever to keep something that incriminating around.
"Because he still has the originals and I needed to be sure I could move quicker and release them before he could if it came down to that. Take the power away from him." she sighed. "Except it was an idiotic idea because I can't release those pictures, I can't. My parents will die of shame, my reputation… I will be destroyed." She rubbed her face, smudging her make-up. "I thought you had found the safe with the pictures and you wanted to blackmail me."
"Yeah, I'm despicable but not that much." he growled. "You're seventeen on those pictures, yeah? You were underage. They can't release them."
"We're in the Capitol, Haymitch." she laughed a broken laugh. "There is nothing the medias can't do."
"Wanna bet?" he scoffed, standing up. "Capitol Gossip, you said?"
"What are you doing?" she frowned.
"Getting those pictures back." he shrugged.
"They won't take my money." she argued "What…"
"Leave it to me, sweetheart." he snorted. "If they won't take my money, they'll take my fist in their face."
He collected Chaff and Finnick on his way out of the Training Center. Chaff grumbled all the way about doing errands for his escort but Finnick was eager to help Effie in any way he could. They were on a clock but they reached the magazine's building in time. It didn't take a lot of convincing for security to let them in. They were victors after all. The editor in chief and the company CEO received them both in a big office with bay windows that overlooked the city.
They weren't easy to convince but it was difficult to say no to three angry victors. They eventually reached an agreement. Haymitch spent most money in one setting than he had in probably all his life since his victory and Finnick would go on air for an exclusive – and probably intrusive – interview instead of them releasing the pictures.
Haymitch was handed a manila folder and he and Chaff were escorted back to the exit with the advice to seek the photographer for the hard drive with the original copies.
"Can I, at least, get a peek?" Chaff snorted, nodding to the folder in Haymitch's hands.
Haymitch glared.
And yet he didn't resist having a peek himself. Trinket was very clearly younger on those pictures, and he only flipped through a few of them. She was too young and too candid for any of it to be appealing. She was just a kid on those pictures. You wouldn't really know just by looking at them, she looked young but she could have been eighteen or nineteen, maybe even twenty. He knew her though, and he could tell just by the look in her eyes that she had been entirely too innocent, too trusting and clearly in love with whoever was behind the camera. They were obviously private pictures.
The photographer studio wasn't hard to find. Negotiating for the hard drive and any copies he could still have wasn't difficult easier. The guy was desperate for money.
"She doesn't come cheap." Chaff snorted once they were done and his pocket were full of folders, incriminating pictures and two hard drives. "You've spent how much today?"
"She's worth the money." he shrugged.
"Is she now?" his friend laughed. "Must be good at something else than posing for racy pictures."
"Shut up, it's not like that." he growled.
"Yeah, yeah…" Chaff snorted. "Unfortunately, I believe you. You're too chivalrous when she's concerned."
"I'm not chivalrous." he grumbled.
"So you didn't almost punch Brutus because he groped her last week?" Eleven's victor laughed. "My bad. Maybe I should have my eyes checked."
"Yeah, maybe you should." he snapped.
Trinket jumped on him as soon as he put a foot back in the penthouse.
"You did it!" she shrieked in what he supposed to be a pleased voice. "They didn't release the pictures, Finnick went live instead and… Oh, thank you! Thank you, Haymitch!"
He wasn't quite ready to be attacked. She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed so tightly he wondered if she was trying to kill him. He placed his hands at the small of her back, almost tentative. They didn't hug. That wasn't a thing.
"I could kiss you." she mumbled against his ear.
"Nobody's stopping you." he snorted.
She stepped back, her lips pursed to hide a smile. "Do you have the pictures?"
He handed her the folders and the hard drive copies.
"You should destroy everything. Even those you have." he advised. "I won't do that twice."
"How much do I owe you?" she asked. "I will pay you back."
He waved that away and walked past her to the liquor cart. "Never mind. That will make up for this morning."
"Most men buy women jewelry when they want to apologize." she observed while he poured himself a glass of whiskey. "Thank you. I do mean it. You have no idea how grateful I am. I… I will resign if you want me too."
"I spent a fortune to make sure you wouldn't have to." He rolled his eyes. "So, no, you're not quitting."
"You do care about me a little." she grinned.
He rolled his eyes again, took a sip of whiskey and then fixed her a glass of that awful pink cocktail she liked.
"You're not so bad." he finally admitted.
He was rewarded with a bright smile and they clang glasses. Her good mood deflated a little though and she averted her eyes.
"Did you look at them?" she asked.
"Some of them." he shrugged, not wanting to lie. "I was curious."
"They're not really tasty, are they?" she laughed awkwardly.
"No, not really." he snorted. "Probably better for you if nobody else get their hands on them or you'll find yourself on the cover of Capitol Playboy."
She ran her finger along the rim of her glass distractedly, still not looking at him. "Did you like them?"
He wondered what she was playing at.
"No." he answered honestly, taking a long mouthful of whiskey. "You're too young. Give me the same now and we'll talk."
"Shocking!" she laughed, whacking his arm. "That's not a proper way to talk to a lady, Haymitch."
He could have argue that she couldn't pretend to be a lady after what he had seen on those pictures but he simply smirked. "I call it as I see it."
She chuckled again, obviously not that offended, and invaded his space to press a kiss at the corner of his mouth.
"Thank you." she whispered. "I do mean it."
"I shouldn't have shoved you." he admitted in an almost indistinct mumble.
"Well, given that you saved me from being ruined right after, I will forgive you." she joked. Her face softened immediately though. "You didn't push me that hard and I wasn't hurt. No damage done."
"Still." he grumbled. "My Games are off limit, sweetheart. It makes me… I can't control myself when you toss that in my face, okay? Don't talk about it." She nodded and then plucked his glass from his hand to place it down on the liquor cart. "What are you doing?" he frowned, growing more alarmed as she wrapped her arms around his neck again. "Trinket, what…"
"Hush, Haymitch." she chided him. "We are having a bonding moment."
"I don't bond." he sneered.
"You do now." she retorted. "Hug me back."
He rolled his eyes but did as he was told, knowing she would always get her way in the end so he might as well submit now.
"We will keep on arguing and fighting, I am sure, but now we are friends." Trinket declared. "You have my back and I will have yours."
It was so idiotic a statement he snorted. They weren't eight to do that sort of promises… Next she would have him pinky swearing.
"Fine." he granted anyway.
He pretended he didn't see the blinding smile she flashed at him.