Prompt : Here's another prompt for you. Haymitch secretly listens to Capitol people talking about Effie and things she did before she became his escort, maybe very embarrassing jobs or hot ones, and he learns some things about her and he talks to her afterwards? Pretty please. (:

Fair warning this is crack XD

First Jobs Aren't Glorious

It was never a good sign when Haymitch came up to the penthouse late at night sober, Effie had learned that long ago. It generally meant trouble – for her.

He leaned against her bedroom doorframe with that patented insufferable smirk on his lips, his grey eyes twinkling with mischief, his hands hidden behind his back. Effie watched him warily, sitting on the stool in front of her dressing table, the hairbrush forgotten in her hand.

He remained silent, apparently content to watch her watching him and she sighed, concluding that if she didn't bite they would be there all night. "How can I help you, Haymitch?"

"I've been wondering why you hid this from me." he said.

She frowned before remembering herself – frowning gave you wrinkles, or so her mother always claimed – and she stopped studying him to look at her reflection in the mirror. She grabbed her cream and smeared some on her face. "Is it a new game of yours? Come into my room at night to make cryptic comments? It certainly changes from the usual… Why, I am amazed you are still wearing clothes at all."

He had a bad habit of considering he was welcomed anytime – then again, she had never kicked him out.

"Clothes… Not really your thing, right?" he taunted, waving something in the air. It was a magazine of some sort. "I'm telling you, sweetheart, I'm taking this back to Twelve with me. It will keep me warm in winter."

"What in Panem are you talking about?" she hissed. "What is this?"

"It's the most amazing story…" he mocked, clearly aiming at imitating her accent – and failing. He strutted to her bed and dropped on it like he was welcomed to do so without an invitation. She scowled at him but he ignored her. "I was having a drink with Chaff…"

"Shocking." she deadpanned. "Indeed, I am amazed."

He rolled his eyes, his smirk deepening. He was in a very good mood. It made her suspicious.

"Sassy." he commented. "You know sassy turns me on."

"Does it, now?" she hummed, turning the stool around to face him and crossing her legs on purpose. Her pale blue silk dressing gown rode up her thighs and his eyes immediately shot down to retrace the long expense of naked flesh on display. "Such a shame."

"Funny you're talking about shame…" he retorted, stretching on his back, propping himself against her pillow.

"Shoes off the bed." she rebuked.

He toed them off and kicked them off the bed without a fight – which told her he had far worse ammunitions in store. "So, shame? Wanna talk about that, Princess? Anything you're ashamed of?"

"Clearly you are dying to tell me what I should be ashamed of so, by all means, go ahead." she invited him with a wave of her hand. "You were having a drink with Chaff. What did he have to say about me that has you so in rapture?"

"It wasn't Chaff." he replied. "Fancy that, your biggest fans were at the next table. Funny people. Full of stories. They've been following you since you were seventeen. What a wild party girl you were in your youth, sweetheart… When did that stick crawled up your ass?" She pursed her lips in disapproval but he went on. "So they invite me and Chaff to come over to their place for a glass and more stories… You know us. Can't never pass on a drink… A bit creepy those people, though. They have a collection of vids and pictures…"

"Yes, I can imagine." she huffed. "Certain fans are dangerous, Haymitch."

"Nah…" he denied, wrinkling his nose. "They're not the murderous kind. Batshit crazy, yeah, but not dangerous." He was smirking again. "So… That shampoo commercial you did…"

"They have videos of that?" she hissed. She would need an address. She was sure she could convince Seneca to organize a little Peacekeepers search. She hadn't been aware copies of that were still circulating.

"Yeah, quite the rare nugget. They were very proud of it." he chuckled. "Chaff enjoyed it well enough…"

"Of course he did. He is a pig." she snapped. "I will admit it was not my finest hour but there is nothing shocking to this commercial. Nothing improper is showed."

Suggested maybe but not showed.

It was a shampoo commercial. You hardly wore clothes in the shower.

"Yeah, that was just… What do you call those disgusting slimy things again? Amuse-bouches?" He wriggled his eyebrows. "There were some cute pictures too… You killed it on the catwalk, sweetheart… It's the bitchy face… You've got a real gift for that…" She pursed her lips with annoyance and he chuckled some more. "Yeah, that's the one. Now the main dish… That was unexpected."

Was there any worse than the shampoo commercial? Plenty. But most of it had been buried so deep even a speleologist wouldn't find it.

"Well?" She lifted an eyebrow, schooling her feature into a black mask of disinterest. "I am waiting."

"You don't remember this?" he asked, waving the magazine. "Had to steal it from them. Only one copy left, they said. How you managed that, I don't know…"

"I am a woman of many resources." she retorted, her heart starting to beat that little bit faster.

"I bet." he granted, rolling the magazine and tapping the end of it against his chin. "You owe me one. Chaff too. He distracted them while I snatched it."

"Are you ever going to tell me what it is?" she inquired in a bored voice.

"You really don't know?" he snorted. "You paused naked often?"

"I never paused naked." she countered immediately. Well there had been that one time but those pictures were private, in a safe, and he would never ever see them. "How vulgar."

"Naked, in underwear…" He rolled his eyes. "One and the same."

"Absolutely not." she retorted, finally relaxing a little. "Are you referring to the special edition I did for Capitol Lingerie? There is nothing inappropriate in there, Haymitch."

"There is a two pages poster of you with spread legs wearing just a leopard print nightgown." he scoffed. "Yeah, you can't see much. But you can guess at it."

Which was why there were no more copies of the magazine to be found in all Panem. It was before Viola had come on the scene and before she had built her reputation as the irreproachable lady to contrast with Viola's sulfurous ways.

"And?" she prompted with faked detachment. "Did Chaff enjoy it?"

"I don't know he kind of froze on the picture of you in that lavender frilly panties." he growled. "No bra."

"My arms were crossed over my chest." she argued. "You can't see anything."

"You think that stops a man from picturing it?" he scowled.

"Oh." A slow grin stretched her lips. "Are you jealous, Haymitch?"

"Are you ashamed of having whored yourself out?" he retorted.

She clicked her tongue. "I hardly whored myself out as you say. Was that your hope in coming here? Taunting me into admitting just how ashamed I was? I am afraid you failed." She left her stool to walk to the bed, swaying her hips a bit more than strictly necessary, and snatched the magazine from him. She flipped through it quickly. Some of the pictures were more improper than anything she would now consent to do but there was nothing indecent. "I will admit some of them are daring… Although I suspect that is why you stole the magazine in the first place, is it not? What is it you said? To keep you warm in winter? You will get cramps in your hand."

She tossed the magazine on the bed next to him, trailing her fingers over the belt of her dressing gown. She tugged on the knot a little but not hard enough to undo it, she tousled her hair with her other hand, causing the gown to slip a little on her shoulder.

He watched her, that smug smirk on his face, obviously not fooled for one second by her casual seduction number.

"I stole it 'cause that guy didn't look the kind to jerk off to pretty pictures of you and that's a real fucking shame if you ask me. Waste of perfectly good porn material right here." he explained eventually. "Besides… Better me than Chaff, right? He had his eyes on it too."

"Again, I feel compelled to point out your friend is a pervert." she declared.

"Don't know about that, sweetheart." he shrugged. "He's got taste."

He reached out and hooked a finger around her belt, pulling her closer. She went willingly enough, placing a knee on the bed.

"He gropes me every chance he gets." she complained. "He might only have one hand but he feels like an octopus."

"Like I said…" he teased. "He's got taste." He undid the knot and the dressing gown fell open on a matching blue nightgown that didn't cover much. He slowly ran his hand up and down her thigh a few times. "You're hot."

"Thank you." she grinned. "I am aware."

He rolled his eyes, amusement flashing in his eyes. "Modest too."

"Perhaps not my biggest virtue." she granted.

"Yeah, maybe not." he snorted. He tugged on her thigh and used her losing her balance to roll on her. "I'm keeping the magazine."

She hadn't been planning on taking it away from him. She rather liked the idea of him touching himself thinking about her. It made her feel… powerful.

"Earn it." she challenged.

He only answered her with a cocky smile.

And then he did just that.