Prompt I hope you don't mind me prompting although everything seems to go down at the moment. So maybe this will never be written: I was thinking of their first years working together and Haymitch not helping her at all with everything and it really starts to annoy her at some point. And maybe Mags could tell him that he should be happy to have her and that she's doing great work? And maybe he could offer some help at the end? Thank you!

I hc that Mags had her stroke a few years after Finnick won so that's why she's alright in there in case you're wondering ;)

A Mentor's Advice

Trinket left with an angry huff and Haymitch took a sip of whiskey, very pleased with himself.

"If I'm lucky she's gonna sulk 'till tomorrow." he declared, toasting his friends.

He, Mags, Beetee and Chaff were sitting in a corner of the mentor lounge. Haymitch wasn't in any mood to run after sponsors in a vague attempt at convincing them Twelve would do better next season and they should really consider giving them their money the following year. The Sixty-fifth Hunger Games had been exhausting, not least of all because of the Odair mania that was shaking the city, and all victors were on edge. While the boy had been a clear favorite, it had still been a tough journey and Mags had been on her feet for days. It had been difficult to drag her away from the hospital where the boy was resting and Haymitch didn't intend to let his escort of three years spoil the night.

"You're hard on that girl." Mags chided him, bringing her glass of white wine to her lips. She hadn't drunk a lot compared to the rest of them, but then again she never did.

He glanced at Chaff who hid his smile behind his own glass and then at Beetee who was staring at the table.

"Seriously?" he scoffed. "She's a fucking pain."

"A pain you wouldn't mind screwing." Chaff remarked, his dark eyes twinkling in mischief.

"Please." he scowled.

"Well, you seemed interested at first." Beetee pointed out. Haymitch shot him a betrayed look and Three's victor lifted his hands in a peace offering. "Her first year you were all over her."

"That was before I realized how stuck-up she was." He sneered. "Maybe, she's not bad looking. Maybe. But fuck is she annoying… She's the worst escort I've ever had. She's on my back every fucking day. Haymitch this and Haymitch that. Don't do this. Don't do that. Always threatening me to get rid of my booze…" His friends all exchanged a look. It felt very much like they were ganging up on him. And on behalf of Trinket. "What?"

"Yeah, buddy…" Chaff chuckled. "Don't punch me for stating the obvious but… The more a woman work you up, the more badly you want her. You like them difficult. That's your thing."

Haymitch glared and his best friend shrugged.

"I don't want Trinket." he snapped. "I hate her. I fucking hate her. You know she can't shut up, right? She's always talking. Gives me headaches."

"Are you sure it isn't the alcohol?" Beetee teased.

"And she's so fucking entitled…" he went on, ignoring the interruption. "She's convinced she can walk on water. She acts like everyone should stop and bow at her. She expects me to thank her every minute of the day. She's as stupid as they come too. And…"

Mags scoffed. "Now, that's unfair, boy."

Haymitch bristled at being called a boy. He was thirty-one after all. But it was Mags and Mags would always see him as the lost kid who had followed her around during his first Games as a mentor.

"How's that unfair?" he mumbled. "The only things that comes out of her mouth are fashion stuff and gossips."

"Maybe you should talk to Torello." Chaff suggested. "Get a new one. I wouldn't mind getting her off your hands. Viola needs to go and fast. Before I strangle her."

Haymitch made a face. He had gone to the Head Gamemaker several times already. "He won't promote her. Said something about how she's good at keeping me in line. Whatever that means."

"That means you actually show up where you are supposed to be, dressed and mostly on time." Beetee observed. "And you don't make the headlines so often for pulling drunk stunts."

"That's a shame." Chaff agreed. "She's keeping you on a tight leash. She's a pain, true."

"Ah." he triumphed, toasting his best friend. "Thank you."

Mags shook her head. "I wish Effie was on my team. Oliva was no help at all. Yours is efficient, Haymitch, you should not take that for granted."

"Efficient." he repeated with a scoff.

"She goes the distance." Beetee nodded wisely. "She doesn't just show up at events and leave you with all the work. I like Gloria well enough but she doesn't do half of what Effie does for you. You are lucky, my friend."

"Lucky." He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "You want her, you're welcomed to her."

"Yeah, sure…" Chaff chuckled. "And you wouldn't pitch a fit at all? 'Cause I heard Two's on the market for her."

"What?" he frowned, his eyes automatically shifting to the other side of the mentors lounge where the Careers were having a drink.

"I am too." Mags declared, her winkled hand waving away an imaginary problem. "Who isn't? She actually coaches the kids, she's always willing to help with sponsors, she does the paperwork and she's committed. And whatever you say, Haymitch, she isn't as dumb as you make it out to be. Nobody who can work the crowd like she does can be that stupid."

"She's dumb." Chaff confirmed. "But then again they all are."

Beetee smiled a little, turning his attention thoroughly on Haymitch. "I think you grew too used to her. Remember how it was with your last escort?"

"That was Viola." Eleven's victor snorted. "You told Torello you would push her down the stairs if he didn't replace her. Can't help but notice you're not making the same threats with Trinket, buddy…"

"Would you really let her go?" Mags asked, sounding a little more interested than Haymitch was comfortable with. As if she would really drag him to Torello that second if they could come to some sort of deal. Four was the great winner of the season, it had been some time since a new victor had been more popular than Finnick, and it was pretty much guaranteed that whatever Mags asked she would get. Including his escort.

"And go back to mentoring by himself?" Chaff mocked. "Doing all the paperwork? Not a chance." Haymitch glared at him but his friend simply shrugged and took a sip of his whiskey. "Sorry, man, but you're all talk. It comes down to it, you won't let her go. She's too good at her job. Now, take my advice, screw her, take it out of your system…"

"I don't want to screw her." he spat. "What's so complicated to understand about that?"

"The sexual tension between the two of you that could be cut with a knife?" Beetee suggested innocently. His glare switched target but Three's victor didn't even flinch. "I'm sorry, Haymitch, but the way you two look at each other…

"She wants you to fuck her… You want to fuck her…" Chaff smirked. "You need us to draw you a map or you think you can find where to put it?"

He rolled his eyes, downed the rest of his drink and stood up, annoyed by their stupidity. They weren't in high school and it was very much what it felt like at that moment. He ignored their calls for him to come back and their apologies, striding out of the lounge and out the Center while he was at it.

Some fresh air would do him good.

The Peacekeepers shot him a suspicious look when he passed by. Too many times being arrested for drunken rampages, no doubt.

He settled in the shadow of the building, a few feet away from the entrance, watching people mingle in the City Circle. Capitols were celebrating the end of the Games and it sickened him. It wasn't long before he noticed his escort, her head thrown back as she laughed to whatever the men she was talking to had said. They were sponsors and he was pretty sure the flirting was a way to get their attention but it made something twist within his belly all the same. Their tributes were dead and there she was, partying with the rest of them like it meant nothing.

His gaze was drawn to her slender neck, to the soft curves and the endless legs. She knew how to dress and she always dressed to seduce. She was a walking deadly trap, he had seen that at first glance. In some ways, she reminded him of his arena: deceptively beautiful, danger lurking behind bright colors, deadly under the bubbly attitude.

Much as he liked to pretend she was nothing but another Capitol drone, there were layers to Trinket. He hadn't seen it at first but he saw it now. The steel under the soft smile, the calculating spark in her eyes, the carefully controlled image she gave the world.

She was naïve and unbearable and far too shallow. Still mostly ignorant of what was going on behind the scene when victors were concerned. Still arguing that they could win because she had been taught the odds were fair. Still adamant she knew better than he did.

"I am an old woman, Haymitch. I am not always as skilled at diplomacy as I used to be." Mags said.

He didn't startled but it was a close thing. Mags could move as silently as a cat. He snorted because whatever she claimed she didn't look as old as she was. She was one of the first victors still alive, undefeated by the depression or addictions that plucked so many others before their time. Mags was strong and he couldn't ever see her as anything but that. She stood proud and tall in any circumstances. Defiant.

"It's alright." he shrugged. "They were just getting on my nerves."

He purposefully excluded her from that statement, unwilling to say anything to hurt her feelings. Mags had been a second mother to him for a long time. Chaff might have been the closest thing he had got from a mentor but Mags had always been there, ready to advise and impart her wisdom – whether he liked it or not.

"I wasn't telling you to seduce your escort." Four's victor clarified. "Although what you do is your own business and, between you and me, I think it's been too long since you had a good flirt. Hearts are meant to love and be broken once in a while. It gives some spice to life."

"Got no heart left to break." he spat. "And she's Capitol."

And yet his eyes hadn't moved away from her – admittedly attractive – figure.

"Still, Haymitch." Mags sighed. "Go easy on the girl. As far as escorts go, you lucked out. I am not saying you should jump through loops every time she tells you to but… Some help here and there would probably smooth things out quite nicely." He opened his mouth to argue but she lifted her hand. "She does a great job by herself. Imagine what you could do if you actually worked together. We all have someone to share the burden with. You could use an ally."

She left before he could defend his point and he was left staring at his escort.

Eventually he rolled his eyes, buried his hands in his pockets and made his way over, already knowing it would be a disaster. The sponsors' faces lit up when they saw him approach behind her back because as far as victors went he tended to be elusive. Trinket paused, puzzled by what had caught their attention.

Haymitch enjoyed her small jump of surprise when he touched her shoulder and he delighted in her sudden stammering even more.

He liked putting her off balance.

Maybe he could help now and then.

If only to keep her on her toes.

It had nothing to do whatsoever with the bright blinding smile she shot him.

Nothing at all.