Prompt : Do you think you could do a Hayffie story, AU or not, where Haymitch teaches Effie how to fight?

Ok, this one is bad. I tried and I probably failed but hey I tried ;)

Warning for smutty steam

Of Fighting & Seducing

Haymitch's only reaction to their tributes being slaughtered on screen was "I need a drink." He hauled himself up from the penthouse couch.

"Is that all you have to say?" Effie snapped, rising to her feet too only to start pacing.

One of those years then, he thought, tired already of the scene she was probably going to cause.

"What do you want me to say?" he snorted. "They're dead. It was quick. Small mercies."

It wasn't the right thing to answer. He should have kept his mouth shut and ignored her. She was fishing for a fight, searching for an outlet to her anger and helplessness and he wasn't in a mood to humor her.

"Small mercies." she repeated, a hard glint in her eyes. "If you had made more of an effort…"

He wasn't exactly surprised when she planted herself between him and the liquor cart but he didn't let that stop him either. The fact that she was blocking his access to liquor annoyed him more than her accusations.

"I'm getting drunk, Trinket." he spat. "You can join me or go have your meltdown elsewhere."

"You won't touch a drop of alcohol." she denied. "You should have fought more for those children. You should…" He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep her but she moved to be in his path again. "You are not getting drunk. This is your fault. You…"

"I'm not the one who called their names, now, am I?" he growled. "That's what you want to hear, sweetheart? You want me to tell it true? You killed those kids."

She recoiled but not enough to let him pass. "Be that as it may, I won't let you get drunk. I am tired of watching you duck your responsibilities this way."

"You think you can stop me?" he sneered. "Cute. Step aside."

"Fight me." she challenged, folding her arms over her chest.

It almost made him laugh. Almost. "Don't goad a victor into a fight you can't win, Princess. You won't like the outcome." Her breathing was fast and her eyes were more dark than blue. A mocking smirk blossomed on his lips and he tilted his head. "Are you aroused? You're into power play now?"

"You are disgusting." she hissed. She could deny all she wanted though, he knew the signs. He was painfully acquainted with the tells of her arousal. As if to prove him right, she didn't move when he wrapped his hand around her throat. He kept his grip loose, because she hated it and because he didn't want to choke her, but when he slid his hand around the back of her neck, there was nothing gentle to his grip anymore. He squeezed. Hard enough that she tried to bat his hand away.

"Is this making you wet?" he taunted. "Cause this isn't a game, Effie. I could kill you. Right now." She raised her free hand for a slap he easily blocked. Her breathing was very fast now, fear mixing with excitement.

"Is this making you hard?" she retorted. "Thinking you have me at your mercy? Which one of us is into power play I wonder?"

"Thinking?" he snorted. "You think you can fight me?"

"I am not helpless." she spat. "I have taken defense class and I will hurt you if you don't let me go right now."

"Hurt me." he dared.

She searched his eyes for a second and then she went for his face, claws out. He drew back to avoid the nails and let go of her neck but only for the time it took to push her against the bay window, fingers closing around her throat once more.

"Wrong move." he commented, shaking his head. "Now what do you do? What did they teach you in those fancy defense classes of yours?"

Her pink wig was crushed flat against the glass and he was certain she would berate him for that later but right now he couldn't have cared less. They were playing on a very dangerous line but if the lust he could see in her eyes was any indication, it was a thrilling one too.

He wasn't exactly expecting the kick on his shin that made him step back with a hiss but she used the momentum to send her knee flying in his stomach and, once he was bent in two, she would have, no doubt, finished him with a strike at the back of his neck if he hadn't caught her arm and spun her around, trapping her right arm behind her back and very much pushing her against the window once more.

"Not bad." he commented. "But you made a mistake. What was it?"

Her cheek pressed against the cold panel, she licked her lips. "I don't know. This isn't funny anymore. Let me go."

"Tell me what you did wrong first." he insisted, pressing himself against her. She whimpered and he didn't think it was out of fear – or pain, for that matter, he was careful on keeping a loose grip on her arm.

"I don't know." she breathed out. "Becoming your escort."

He nipped at the exposed skin on her neck in rebuke. "Think."

"Haymitch, what are you doing?" she replied.

"Teaching you a lesson." he growled. "You said you could fight me. You can't. What happens next time a drunk guy with wandering hands fancies a shot at you, Trinket? What happens when you can't fight him off?" The thought was making him mad. She was cocky and overconfident. He knew she could handle herself up to a point but what if someone just went too far and she was out of her depth? What then? There she was, accusing him of enjoying having her at his mercy – which he, indeed, enjoyed too much for his comfort – but he was keeping a leash on this dark side the arena had awoken. Others wouldn't. "What did you do wrong?"

"I don't know." she said again.

He slid his free hand up her leg and wedged it between her stomach and the glass. "You hit here." he said, pocking her in the stomach. He moved his hand up until he reached her sternum, popping open the buttons of her blouse. "Should have aimed for here. Plexus." His thumb was tracing soft circles on her skin and he felt her gradually relaxing. "Get me off you." he ordered, pushing her bra up so he could cup her breast. "You're trapped. I've got a hand behind your back and another one in your bra… What do you do? Think fast." He bit down on her nape, hard enough to hurt but not hard enough that it was completely about pain. She moaned. He felt her hand blindly reaching behind her, groping him through his pants and he groaned because he was hard and the whole thing hadn't gone as he had intended it. "I'm trying to teach you something here." he grumbled. "You're supposed to get yourself free."

"Yes, I understood that." she replied, grabbing him through his pants a little too firmly to be comfortable. She twisted to the right and he hissed in pain.

"Effie." he warned.

"Let me go. Now." she commanded. She wasn't being as brutal as she could have been and he decided she had won that round so he let her go and stepped back enough that she could turn around to face him. "I won."

"Cause I let you." he scoffed. "Now what are you going to do? You let me go, I'll get the upper hand back."

"Simple then." She flashed him a dangerous grin. "I don't let you go." She tugged and he had no choice but to step forward or getting neutered. He didn't like it. Even when her grin became less feral and more sensual. "Kiss me." she ordered and he didn't like that either. He did kiss her but only to distract her. Once he felt her hand loosening its grip, her grabbed her and pushed her against the windows bay again, pinning her wrists over her head with one hand.

"You're not in charge." he stated.

"You're not either." she snapped.

"You're the one who wanted a fight, sweetheart." he reminded her.

"Figure of speech." she hissed. She didn't try to get free though. She licked her lips. "We seem to be at an impasse."

"Yeah? How do you figure?" he snorted. "'Cause from where I'm standing, things are pretty clear."

"You won't hurt me." she whispered. "You are infuriating but you would never physically hurt me."

"You tried to goad me into a fight." he growled. "Never do that again. I'm sober enough right now but ask drunk me to fight you and he probably will."

"No, you won't." she replied calmly, leaning in to brush her mouth against his. "I trust you."

"Stupid idea." he scoffed.

"Perhaps." she granted, wrapping a leg around his waist. "Do you want to keep arguing or…"

He kissed her, letting go of her wrists to place his hands on her hips. Her arms locked around his neck and she drew him closer as he bundled her skirt around her waist. When she slid her leg back down and looped it around his, he let her. When she gave a sharp tug and used his stumbling to push him against the bay window, he could only watch, stunned, as she grinned like the cat who ate the canary.

"That is why I will always win, darling." she gloated. "I don't need to fight you. I only need to seduce you."

He rolled his eyes but didn't protest.

For one thing, she had her lips on his throat and there were worse places for them to be.

For another, she wasn't wrong.