Prompt: I saw these gifs and you could you write something for HADS where Effie or Haymitch simply kisses the other to "try it out"? Because you are right, it is soo Hayffie.

Trying It Out

War in itself wasn't stressful. Effie was used to that kind of heavy on adrenaline life; she was no soldier but she had been a model for long enough and living on a catwalk was a battlefield of its own. She knew how to handle stress, she knew how to be patient, she knew how to gauge opponents and adjust her attitude accordingly – people in Thirteen believed her to be very dumb, a typical Capitol doll, and it suited her, it allowed her to keep an eye on her victors because nobody considered a dumb person a threat.

It wasn't the war that was stressing her so much that she had taken to bargaining her jewels and what had been in her purse against some of the cigarettes that were going around on the black market some of the refugees had going – despite the fact she knew anyone caught partaking in that sort of activities in that District would be in major troubles. It wasn't the war either that was prompting her to smoke in her tiny shower so it wouldn't trigger any fire alarm.

It was knowing people she loved were in danger and being unable to protect them or stop them from putting themselves at risk.

She tended to spend her nights in the shooting studio, either reviewing ideas for Finnick's propos about dead victors or trying to find new ideas for Katniss, something the girl could actually do without looking like a puppet they were feeding lines to.

Sometimes Haymitch joined her.

She supposed he wasn't sleeping well. How could he be without liquor?

She felt for him, she really did. They had been colleagues for a long time, they were friends if anything. A team.

Sometimes he worked on something on a tablet while she did her own thing. Sometimes they reviewed speeches and propos together. Sometimes he simply watched her, seemingly without seeing, while she worked.

They rarely talked. Well… She talked. She had never been good at bearing the silence – even though it was often comfortable with Haymitch. She chatted and provided a running commentary on what she was doing, not expecting an answer and getting none anyway. She inflected just the right level of cheer in her voice and smiled just when she ought to smile and, sometimes, she did such a good job at sounding happy that she managed to forgot she was terrified that one of her children would not survive the war they had been thrust in.

There was always a point when she would falter though, where her voice would suddenly drop and she would stop talking because it hit her all over again how huge the whole thing was. Not just the rebellion but what it meant. Not just what it meant but the price it could cost her. She wasn't ready to lose Peeta or Katniss. Even for freedom.

It was one of those nights when he was sitting next to her, not doing much but obviously in need of being close to someone familiar, and she had just reached the point where her cheerfulness was too much to fake.

On every propo, Peeta looked worse and worse. Johanna did too but Johanna was resilient in a way she wasn't sure her victor was. She trusted Johanna to survive the worst of situations. Peeta, now… Peeta was strong but he was a sweet soul.

She blamed the late hour and the would-be green tea she had had earlier for disrupting the routine they had going. All things considered, it was a good routine.

"Are we going to survive this?" she asked and her voice was far from the bright, bubbly high pitch of her escort persona.

His grey eyes focused on her and she knew for sure he hadn't been listening to a word she had been saying before that. Now his whole attention was on her though and, as always, it made her shiver. It was the thing with Haymitch… When he looked at her, really looked at her, she often felt as if she was completely bare in front of him. Not just naked but bare, stripped down of all defenses, her secrets exposed, her masks and layers shed, and her true self brought to light. Being forbidden from wearing make-up hadn't helped that in any way in that place.

She automatically patted the headscarf on her head to make sure no awful strawberry blond strand could be seen.

"Not all of us." he offered eventually, in a tired drawl. "That's foolish to hope for that." He paused for a second and then shrugged. "You're pretty safe down here, I'd say your chances are good. If that's what you're worried about."

She pursed her lips and averted her eyes, not bothering to hide the anger in her voice when she gathered her notes and made sure they were all perfectly aligned in a neat pile. "You know it is not myself I am worried about."

She almost expected one of the usual rebuffs about her being selfish or self-centered or something else she could have laughed away.

"Yeah." he offered instead. "I know. But I can't tell the future, sweetheart. Can't say what's going to happen. Chances of us walking out of this with all our kids still alive aren't good."

He was including Finnick and Johanna in that statement, she figured. Quite right too. She had invested too much energy in fighting with Jo in the vain hope of educating her over the years to give up on the girl now. As for Finnick… Finnick had always been her favorite. And they shouldn't forget Annie…

Neither of which negated the fact she had started thinking about Katniss and Peeta as her own. Her team. Her family.

She bit down on her bottom lip to stop the tears she could feel were about to burn her eyes.

Eyes bright, chin up, smile on, she reminded herself.

It did little good.

She was craving a cigarette again. At that pace, she would come out of that war a true smoker when she had quitted years earlier.

"Don't be upset." he chided her without any real heat, nudging her leg with his. "No point being upset before anything happens. Maybe everything will be fine."

"You were never one for optimism." she huffed.

"No, that's your job." he smirked. "Give us hope. Distract us. That's what you've got to do right now. That's why I had you brought here."

"I thought that was to save my life?" she scoffed. "That is what you claimed when you had me abducted."

"That was a bonus." he mocked. "You're here 'cause I need you. I need my escort."

She kept her eyes firmly on her notes. "Your escort."

She tried to keep her voice flat but it still sounded a little bitter. She didn't quite know where that was coming from. She knew the attraction was mutual but she also knew her interest was one sided.

"You're the best at your job, Effie." he said firmly. "So, you do your thing. Tell us it'll be fine until we believe it or annoy us so much we want to strangle you. You do your thing, I do mine. With a bit of luck, I save all of our asses."

"Language." she snapped with some irritation. "Well, we are still a team, I suppose. I do my part and you do yours. We were successful in the past."

"Yeah." he agreed.

"We are a good team." she insisted. "You and I."

"The best." he snorted, clearly humoring her.

She cleared her throat and pretended to read her notes, feeling her cheeks flushing for no good reason other than the fact he was still watching her with rapt attention.

She startled when he grabbed her chin and prompted her to turn her head in his direction. He was already leaning in and she blinked hastily, not quite sure what was happening.

Well, she knew what was happening.

His mouth was hard and his tongue immediately sought entrance without him working up his way to that. It was rude. And assuming a lot. And so she pushed back, her fingers fisting the fabric of his sleeve, her other hand coiling at the back of his neck to better direct the kiss. It became a fight for control. When his free hand squeezed her thigh, she let out a groan because she could imagine him squeezing other things and she was suddenly desperate to feel his hands on her chest or her bottom.

She didn't resist when he pulled her out of her chair and unto his lap, barely able to take her mouth off his lips long enough to have a coherent thought. "What are we doing?"

It was a stupid question.

However, she was confused. They had spent years resisting this, denying it…

"Trying it out." he mumbled, tugging on the knot of her headscarf before she could stop him. Her blond locks tumbled on her shoulders and she almost gasped in horror. Not that he noticed though. He was already combing her curls with his fingers, tangling his hands in her hair with obvious delight. "Reddish. Didn't think it would be reddish."

"Strawberry blond." she corrected, keeping her eyes on his shoulder because it was safer than facing his disappointed gaze.

"Key word: strawberry, Princess." he taunted, using his grip on her hair to draw her in another kiss. "Beautiful." he muttered against her lips, almost as an afterthought.

That word was all she needed to hear to snap out of her uncertain daze.

She kissed him hard and violently and he growled, urging her closer, always closer…

She decided trying it out was a good idea.

She also decided she would probably want to try it out a few times.

Just to be sure.