prompt: there is a capital fashion show ( maybe like victoria's secret ) and effie is one of the models and haymitch goes to see her or is in the front row or something and is pretty proud of her and has like a "that's my girl" moment

Strut Down That Catwalk

"You think they're here for the clothes or for the girls?" Chaff asked, glancing around at the sea of Capitol people socializing together.

Haymitch didn't bother, slouching a little on his seat instead, impatiently checking his watch because the show was supposed to start almost half an hour ago. What had happened to punctuality?

The room was small and there were only a few rows of chairs arranged in a half-circle around the square podium. It was a very exclusive event or so Effie had claimed when she had waved the two tickets in front of his face. She had been trying to convince him to attend just so they could scout out a new stylist for the next season – or that was what she had claimed, he thought she wanted him to watch her march down that catwalk. He hadn't been sold because a fashion show sounded boring but she had outwitted him by appealing to Chaff's sense of duty – or more accurately his love for half naked women who would model underwear. There had been no getting out of that.

Truth be told, being dragged to the Capitol for the Seventieth Victory Tour wasn't his idea of fun but with Cresta in such a fragile state of mind no victor had been given a choice in not attending. They had all been forced back to the city to be used as decoy and there wasn't much to do aside for getting drunk with Chaff and occasionally go out and wave at cameras.

Effie had other professional commitments, namely modeling jobs and photoshoots, and couldn't spend her whole day babysitting him so…

To be fair, going to something that wasn't Games related and that didn't involve a dozen of cameras was a nice change. Even if it felt disturbingly couple-y to go watch someone he was casually sleeping with do her thing.

He checked the program once more – because, yes, apparently fashion shows required a program – and only groaned when Chaff elbowed him.

"Well?" his friend pressed, clearly waiting for an answer to his question.

"Both." he shrugged.

Lights suddenly dimmed in the room and a gentle hush fell on the crowd despite a few excited murmurs. Haymitch wasn't sure what to expect but he wasn't really surprised by the music that boomed out of hidden speakers.

A host came out of the shadows, the clothes and style channeling Caesar Flickerman's current look, and presented the stylist whose work they were about to see and the history of their designer house… When he declared the show was starting, the music grew louder. The man announced the name of each outfit – because outfits got names, it seemed – right when the model wearing them appeared at the end of the catwalk.

He had to sit through ten ugly dresses before Effie appeared, clearly wearing the show's climax. It was a copper little number with puffy sleeves and a bare back… She strutted down that catwalk, her chin high, unsmiling, murder in her eyes… She was breathtaking. Literally breathtaking.

"Pick up your jaw from the floor, buddy." Chaff mocked in a whisper, briefly patting his leg with his stump.

"Don't know what you mean." he grumbled.

"Sure." Eleven's victor humored him.

Ten male models wearing various suits and outfits came next.

"Wanna bet Viola's gonna try and make me fit into one of those next year?" Chaff muttered, eyeing the eccentric suits with distaste.

"That's the good thing with Effie… She gave up on trying to make me look Capitol long ago." he snorted.

The underwear line came next and they both sat up a little straighter.

The women were gorgeous and not wearing much but, unlike Chaff, he wasn't really interested in ogling them. He waited for the last model to come on stage…

And he wasn't disappointed.

Fuck but she was dazzling. She was wearing a red set – because it had to be red – and she walked down that podium as if she was going to war. The bitchy pout, the challenging look she had on… He licked his lips and crossed his legs, thinking hard about something else than legs that went on forever and fiery attitude.

He barely noticed when the stylist joined the models on stage or when everyone started clapping and cheering. His eyes were on Effie and there was no distracting him from her.

"Come on." Chaff declared when the lights came back on and everyone started moving. Before Haymitch understood what was going on, he was dragged toward the stage.

"Where are you going?" he frowned.

"Backstage. Where the beautiful women are." his friend replied. "Don't worry, I'm gonna find something to keep busy while you stare at your escort. I'm even gonna pretend I didn't notice you almost got a boner out there. Can't really blame you though… Now that I know what's under those tight dresses…"

"Careful." he growled.

Chaff laughed, lifting his good hand and his stump in the air. "No offense, man."

He didn't have any reason to take offense. They weren't exclusive. They weren't…

He still deliberately bumped into Chaff when he walked past him and to the joyful chaos that was the show's backstage. Outfits on clothes rails everywhere, prep teams running around, half naked women and men who didn't seem to care that they were in public…

He spotted Effie easily enough.

He cursed under his breath because she was wearing only lacy black underwear – hers, as a matter of fact – and Chaff didn't even have the decency to avert his eyes. The first thing he did when he reached her corner of the room was snatch the silk dressing gown that had been abandoned on the back of a chair and wrap it around her shoulders.

She slipped it on without comment, tying it tight before tossing a murdering look in Chaff's direction. "You are not supposed to be back here."

"Love, what's the point of knowing a model if I don't take advantage?" Eleven's victor smiled innocently, looking all around him, probably searching for a woman to pursue.

Haymitch rolled his eyes but smirked, amused by his friend's antics now that Effie wasn't so exposed.

"You're a dog." he accused.

"Guilty as charged." Chaff shrugged.

"Effie, are you coming to the after show party?" a woman with blue hair shouted from the other end of the room.

Effie opened her mouth but before she could say anything, Chaff was crossing the room with his most charming smile. "Of course, we're coming. Want some help with that bag, love? Looks heavy."

It had the unfortunate effect of alerting the room to the presence of the victors but, for the most part, they didn't seem to care.

Effie shook her head at Eleven's victor's retreating back and turned to Haymitch with a more genuine smile, patting the faded pink bob-shaped wig she had on. "Did you enjoy the show?"

His eyes darted down to the dressing gown's neckline and the hint of creamy flesh it was showing.

"You should model for me sometimes." he smirked, keeping his voice low.

"Oh, you liked it that much, then?" Her grin was simply salacious and her eyes were sparkling. "I have been told I am quite arousing to look at."

"Don't know about that." he lied. "Would have to see it again. Like a private show or something."

She dropped the dressing gown and slipped on the dress she had been wearing earlier, turning around so he could zip it up. He did it very slowly, making sure to brush his knuckles against her spine first.

She sounded a bit breathless when she eventually answered him. "I think that can be arranged."