Surprise Babysitting
The knock on the door had her reluctantly looking up from her screen. There was a manifestation in Eight against the closing of a textile factory she was trying to monitor, all white looking into that collective in Five who, without being a real danger to their dam project, was a thorn in their side. "Come in." Peeta came in immediately, a small frown on his face. "Did you find something?"
She had him digging into the group in Five too but so far neither of them could really find anything, which was more than suspicious. If Coin ended up being behind that collective, Effie wouldn't have been surprised.
"Not yet, sorry." Peeta shook his head. "Security just called. There's someone at the doors downstairs asking to see you?"
"I beg your pardon?" Her eyes widened. That never happened. People knew better than just show up at the Presidential Mansion… If her friends wanted to have lunch or get a hold on her, they knew to call first and meet somewhere close. Nobody would be entitled enough to knock at the Mansion's doors and demand to see the Press Secretary… Wait… "Is it my mother?"
The question was half-ironical. Surely, even Elindra…
"Your father, actually." Peeta winced. "And your nephews? I didn't get everything because Security seemed… err… annoyed."
With good reasons.
She stood up, searching around her desk until she found her phone buried under two files. If her father and her nephews were there… Did it mean something happened? Heart beating fast, worried, she checked her messages but there were only two missed calls. One was from Plutarch's office earlier that day and the other one was from her father a few minutes ago. She must have left her phone on silent after the daily press briefing…
"Call Fulvia and see what Plutarch wanted, will you?" she ordered Peeta. "I will be right back."
If it had been urgent, Plutarch would have crossed the office and found her or summoned her so she wasn't too concerned about that. About the fact that her father was at the Mansion's doors now…
Gale shot out of the little kitchen area, where he spent most of his time when she was working, the moment she reached the elevators.
"You can stay put. I am not leaving, just popping downstairs where there will be plenty of Peacekeepers to keep me safe." Effie remarked. "Do keep chatting that redhead up. She is pretty."
Gale rolled his eyes but did shoot the redhead a regretful look. "You're not leaving? You promise?"
"I will be right back." she said for the second time in two minutes.
She was a bit relieved Gale chose to believe her. She hated parading around with a Peacekeeper in front of her family, it was awkward, mostly because of her mother's remarks. And her father… She hadn't been around her father long enough to know if she would be embarrassed or not but she was glad not to have to test it out.
She hurried as much as she could without actually looking like she was hurrying. The Press Secretary running down corridors would panic everyone. The senior staff set the tone in the Mansion.
When she was two corridors away from the security outpost at the staff entrance – which, at least, she hoped her father had the good sense of using – she checked her hair was still in its neat high round bun Haymitch insisted made her look like a fairy. She couldn't do much for her make-up without the compact that was in her desk drawer but she smoothed her dress so there would be no creases. It was a lovely dress, at least, a pencil dress that stopped at a respectable level over her knee, with short sleeves and made of thick rigid cotton wool with black and gold geometric patterns… And, of course, her stilettos were elegant, black with a golden heel with a tiny butterfly at the back…
The security outpost was in sight when she wondered why she was so worried about how she looked. First, Tadius wasn't Elindra and as long as she looked respectable he would probably not notice much else. Second, if her father was there it was clearly an emergency and…
She picked up her pace a little more, forcing a bright smile on her lips and warmly greeting people left and right to pretend everything was fine.
When she was closed enough, she saw her father was looking extremely bored, checking his watch every thirty seconds without appearing to, keeping up a polite conversation with the Peacekeeper on duty about the weather… His face brightened with relief when he spotted her coming closer through the thick plastic bulletproof wall separating the inside of the Mansion from the outside. To come in and out, you had to use your badge and go through huge built-in detectors machines, not unlike at the airport, that were supposed to spot guns, knives, bombs and the likes…
"Auntie Effie!" Bryden exclaimed when he spotted her, looking relieved himself. He started running toward her, his brother imitating him… Tadius grabbed Timotheo's collar before he could go very far and held him back.
Clay, the Peacekeeper on duty at the Security post – not Effie's favorite but beggars couldn't be choosers – was quick to intercept the other boy before he could run through the security system without scanning a badge and trigger a lot of intrusion alarms she would have been forced to account for at some point. "Wow, there, little man… Wait a sec, yeah?"
Effie quickly scanned her badge, almost flew through the detectors, and scanned her badge again to reach her father and her nephews. Clay let go of the boy, chuckling good-naturedly when Bryden finished rushing to her and wrapped his arms around her leg in a very enthusiastic hello. Tadius released Timotheo and, surely enough, soon she had a boy clinging to each of her thigh.
"Father! What happened?" she exclaimed, making her way to him with difficulties, on account of the two boys now attached to her. She quickly dropped a kiss hello on Bryden's head and lifted up Timotheo in reflex, propping him against her hip. The boy immediately wrapped his arms around her neck and lent his head against her shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He was getting a little too big for that though and, if the way Clay leered at her legs was any indication, it also made her dress ride much higher…
"What happened?" Tadius scoffed. "What happened is that Rufus unexpectedly dragged Lyssa somewhere and that her Nanny has the flue…"
Effie blinked. She had expected something a little more… dramatic. "But everyone is alright? Lyssa? Mother?"
Her father tossed her a look. "I am not alright, although I notice you did not ask." He glanced at his watch again. "Lyssa dropped the children at our house this morning but your mother had a spa date with her friends and would not reschedule so she brought the boys to me at the office."
Effie widened her eyes. That seemed… "Are you two fighting?"
Passive-aggressive. That was what it was and she was intimately acquainted with Elindra's methods.
"None of your business." Tadius grumbled. "I have a meeting. I need you to take the boys."
"Please." Bryden added, tightening his hold on her leg and looking up at her with pleading eyes.
Clearly, they hadn't had a lot of fun with their grandfather so far… Effie couldn't blame them.
"I can't." she said regretfully. "I have to…"
"I have to meet a client for a drink." Tadius snapped. "Do you expect me to bring the boys to a bar?" He took a deep irritated breath and collected himself. "I would have left them with my secretary but they have been perfectly horrid all day."
He shot the two children an angry look. Bryden leaned against her side harder, Timotheo wouldn't even look up.
Effie took in the obvious lack of backpacks or toys and raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. "And what did you have them do all day?"
"I gave them papers and a pen. I am not entirely clueless on how to occupy children." he scoffed.
"Not entirely, no…" she muttered.
"They ran everywhere, got underfoot, interrupted two very important meetings and broke a vase, possibly one computer, and it is unclear if Mrs Glueberry's goldfish will recover from the trauma of having been moved from his bowl." he snapped.
"We tried to get him to the tank in the hall!" Bryden protested, obviously sulking. "It's big and he'd have been with lots of friends… He was all alone in a bowl."
"'T was very boring, auntie…" Timotheo mumbled in her neck.
"Oh dear…" That was all she could find to say.
"They were terrors and I am done for the day." Tadius declared, his tone breaking no argument.
"That's all well and good but I am currently busy myself, Father." she retorted. "Have you tried calling Lyssa?"
"Of course I tried calling Lyssa." her father huffed. "Did you think you were my first choice?"
She took it like a slap in the face. And she didn't particularly appreciate being scolded like she had done something wrong in a public lobby where everyone could listen. Clay, as a matter of fact, was standing far enough away that he could pretend he was giving them privacy, but was clearly stretching an ear to hear every word. Everything that happened here would be gossip folder for the next few weeks.
"Not particularly, no." she hissed. "It has been a while since I entertained that thought."
Tadius startled and then managed to look both annoyed and a little embarrassed. "Cut the theatrics, Euphemia. I simply meant that, in this family, you are the only one who works as hard as I do. I would not have disturbed you unless it was an emergency. And it is. I will be late."
That was… Well, that was a compliment.
Who knew Tadius could hand those out…
"But I cannot take the boys!" she insisted because he had taken one step back toward the exit. "Are you sure you cannot reach Lyssa? What about Rufus?"
Tadius shook his head. "Neither of them are answering their phones."
"Mother?" she asked, already regretting it.
"You call her if you wish." her father retorted. "I am in no mood to face that particular dragon."
She stared at her father, stared at the two boys looking at her with begging eyes, and sighed. This was happening whether she wanted it or not.
And, truth be told, she wasn't sure how the boys had survived a whole day with Tadius… Her father wasn't exactly known for his proficiency in caring for small children…
"Did you feed them at least?" she sighed. Lunch had passed and gone a couple of hours earlier and she was a bit scared he had tried to give them sandwiches or…
"I brought them to a restaurant." Tadius scowled. "Enough said about that, the better."
Bryden suddenly had an angelic look about him that told her everything she needed to know.
"Fine." she caved. "But you owe me, Father. You owe me a lot."
"I will buy you a house." he dismissed, with a wave of his hand. "You will need one at some point, won't you? I have a few lovely properties in stock at the moment…" He glanced at this watch again, leaned in to peck the air next to her cheek and then tossed the children another glare. "Behave for your aunt. If you put one toe out of line, I will hear about it."
"Yes, Grandpa…" Bryden mumbled, lowering his eyes in a very good shamed attitude that dissolved as soon as Tadius disappeared through the door. When he looked up at her again, he was grinning. "Can we go to the zoo?"
That was what she got for always taking the boys on fun outings…
"No, we cannot." She shook his head. "This is my work place, do you understand? I have to work. Which means you have to be on your best behavior."
"Ice cream?" Timotheo asked hopefully, planting a kiss on her cheek and looking far too cute.
This was going to be a long day…
The first step was to get them inside the building, which meant a stop at the Security Outpost for temporary badges.
"I can't authorize them just like that…" Clay protested with a wince. "There are papers and…"
"Do you need me to call upstairs and expedite the process?" she cut him off, annoyed. Not with him, he was doing his job. She was annoyed because she had lost fifteen minutes of work already and she was ready to bet she was going to lose a lot more. She wasn't wasting a precious hour filling out forms. "They are toddlers, not terrorists. Just give me two badges and log them in as VIPs."
"VIPs are for the President…" Clay winced harder.
"Again. Do you need me to call upstairs so he can tell you himself to let them in?" she deadpanned.
One of the advantages of living in the Mansion was that the staff was never very difficult when she gave orders. She had badges for her nephews under ten minutes – the longest part had been to get them to stay still long enough for Clay to take a clear picture to go on said badge.
"Why is it you do not have toys to play with, darlings?" she asked as she dragged them along to the elevators. It was slow process. Their legs were shorter than hers and Timotheo was leaping every three steps to avoid black tiles. "I doubt very much your mother let you leave the house without anything to keep you busy…"
"We've got toys at Nana's…" Bryden explained and then wrinkled his nose. "Grandmother's…"
"Oh, do call her Nana." Effie encouraged him. Anything to annoy Elindra. "And Nana didn't pack up some toys for you when she brought you to Granpa's office?"
Bryden shook his head. "She said he'd have some."
The little liar…
Was there even a spa day at all or was Elindra chilling at home?
Once they were secured in the elevator and on the way back to the main office, she tried to call her sister. Voicemail. She called five times in a row. The phone rang but always ended up on voicemail. She tried Rufus too while she was at it but not much luck there either.
She hesitated with her thumb hovering over her mother's name but, in the end, she decided to give that a pass. Her father had the right idea of it. It wasn't worth it. Elindra wouldn't help if she had decided not to anyway.
To say that she got stares when she waltzed back in with tiny children holding each of her hand was an understatement.
Gale was still chatting up the redhead – Effie made a note to figure out for who that girl was working exactly because there clearly wasn't a lot of working going on – but paused long enough to high-five Bryden as if they were buddies. To be fair, Bryden probably thought so. Gale had been nice enough to humor him and pretend to pilot his giant hovercraft for him on his birthday.
"Well, hello there…" Plutarch chuckled as he came out of his office. "Are you hiring new assistants, Effie? There is a memo on your desk. Please, get back to me as soon as you can."
"Of course." She nodded and strode toward her own office, boys in tows.
Peeta watched her walk closer, eyebrows raised high. "Effie… Are you replacing me?"
"I just might if you do not watch the sass." she commented. "Find me some color pencils, will you? Someone must have some somewhere… Try the civil designers' department… We do have an civil designers' department in the building, don't we?"
"I will find something." Peeta promised. "There's a memo on your desk and you might want to check the news. Katniss says it's getting heated in Eight."
"Great." she sighed. "Once you've found something to keep them busy, try calling my sister every ten minutes."
She opened the door to her office and gestured at the boys to come in. She should have thought it through. Rascal had been sleeping on the couch all afternoon and the moment Timotheo spotted him, his eyes widened as large as saucers… "Kitty!"
He escaped her hand and rushed to the cat who suddenly looked very huge – and also very terrified. Rascal seized up the threat and bolted, skidding when he failed to navigate a turn properly to avoid Bryden who was trying to catch him too. He left serious marks on the antic floorboard when he finally managed to slip through the ajar door.
"We do not rush at animals like this, kitties or otherwise!" Effie scolded. "You scared him. He could have hurt you."
She had seen the gashes he had left on Haymitch's arm because Haymitch had failed to understand Rascal wasn't in any mood to relinquish the pillow… It hadn't been pretty.
The boys both lowered their heads and said in unison: "Sorry".
It made her wonder how often Lyssa needed to scold them.
"Sit." she waved at the now empty couch. "Do you want something to drink?"
"Soda?" Bryden beamed.
"Something without sugar?" she argued. "How about some apple juice?"
Yes, she was aware apple juice would have sugar in it but she figured it would be less so than soda.
"Grandpa gave us soda…" Bryden grumbled.
"And see where it has led him…" she huffed. "Here is how it is going to work… I will lend you my phone, you will quietly play games while I work, alright?"
She could tell at their disappointed looks that they had been hoping for something more exciting but it would have to do.
And for a while it worked.
They sipped their apple juice – that had miraculously came in squared packages with a straw, thanks to the staff being magicians – and played games on her phone, and then Timotheo grew bored and drew pictures with the color pencils Peeta had managed to unearth somewhere… Effie answered Plutarch's memo, kept an eye on Eight where the situation was escalating quickly between protestors and Peacekeepers for no good reason that she could see and tried to keep working on Five…
After forty minutes the boys were clearly showing signs of boredom and impatience. They started asking questions she wasn't sure how to answer like where their parents were and if they would be going home soon… Then they started asking if Effie could play with them or if they could visit the Mansion… Bryden was keen to know if there were lions on the premises because it looked like a cool place to keep lions, which obviously meant Timotheo wanted to know if there were dogs or wolves as well… Which led to the two of them begging to go meet the Cat Patrol because they loved the Cat Patrol…
She had seriously underestimated the impact of what had started mostly as a joke. The Cat Patrol now had a website as well as media accounts dedicated to each cat… She manned Rascal's personally, obviously, but there actually were interns somewhere in the Mansion whose whole jobs were to update those accounts with funny things… The Cat Patrol was extremely popular with the kids.
It was good publicity but she wasn't sure the actual Cat Patrol would hold up to the myth.
The reaction of General Rascal was proof enough of that.
Then the existential questions started. Bryden was never short of those. Did she know why it was called a Mansion when it looked like a palace? Did she know why the angry people were waving cards on TV? Did she know why the Peacekeeper look angry? Did she know why apple juice wasn't the same color as orange juice?
In the end, Effie couldn't stand it anymore and declared it was time for a break.
Peeta, who had been listening through the half-open door all the while and snickering to himself at her increasingly irritated answers, only nodded understandably when she told him. It was a warm day and she was getting a headache so she would be in the garden if anyone was looking for her.
She also made it clear nobody should look for her except if it was an emergency or if her sister finally came out of whatever hole she had crawled into.
°O°O°O°O°
Haymitch didn't like what was happening in Eight and he had already called Paylor to tell her so. She hadn't exactly appreciated his meddling since she was trying to get the Peacekeepers to cool down on her side of things. The problem seemed to be with the local mayor who was responsible for that factory closing in the first place…
There wasn't much more he could do from the city, though. It was a local problem and needed to be handled locally.
He rubbed his face and stood up, stretching his arms high above his head, wincing when something loudly popped in his back. Rascal shot him an unimpressed look from the corner of his desk.
"Sure. Mock an old man." he grumbled.
The cat had ran in an hour or so earlier and had spent thirty minutes cowering under his desk before eventually emerging to demand attention. He wasn't sure what had frightened him. Maybe he had seen a mouse or something…
He opened the window behind his desk, eager for some fresh air, and frowned when he heard squeals of laughter. There weren't many people who laughed around the Mansion, certainly not with that much unrestrained screeching…
He leaned out – something Boggs would probably have a lot to say about – and strained his neck to spot the source of the laughter… When he found it, his heart clenched.
There was a blonde running after two little boys, tickling them every time she managed to catch one… The bun that had taken her fifteen minutes and half a can of hairspray that morning was clearly suffering from the activity because a long strand had blown out and was curling against her neck… Her face was flushed but she looked delighted… And the boys were clearly having the time of their lives…
He didn't waste time wondering why the kids were there – or how she had even got them authorized to get inside without having to call him first to make the process easier – he simply left his office because he wanted a closer look.
"Taking a break." he tossed at Katniss and his two secretaries. "Be back in a few. Don't need an escort, Boggs."
But Boggs followed him anyway because he followed him everywhere, even to the restroom. It took him a while to figure out which door she had used to reach that particular part of the garden. The grounds weren't huge – they were in the middle of the city after all – but the gardens were big enough to entertain a thousand people for a party if need be. There were topiaries and a gazebo and the like… Haymitch hardly ever ventured out there, preferring the quieter part near the conservatory… That was the part the Presidential suite gave on and it was nicer in his opinion, less ostentatious…
But, for two little boys, clearly the bigger more impressive gardens were the thing. They ran from the gravel to the topiaries, hoping over the low fences and ignoring their aunt's demands not to step on the grass… Still, she was running after them anyway so she couldn't be that mad about it… She looked a bit winded though and she stopped, pressing a hand against her side, beneath her left breast.
"She's a natural, isn't she?" Boggs remarked with fondness.
The comment made Haymitch's heart race faster in his chest as panic made his stomach turn.
None of them had noticed them yet.
Technically, he could simply have walked back inside and pretended he had never seen…
Timotheo, still laughing, suddenly tossed his arms around her legs.
"Caught!" he screamed in delight.
"Oh, I think I caught you!" Effie chuckled, framed his tiny face in his hands and pressed a kiss on his forehead, leaving a red trace of lipstick… Bryden pointed at it, laughing, and Timotheo giggled…
It was so easy to imagine the kids were theirs, suddenly. To imagine…
"Haymitch!" Bryden shouted, finally spotting him.
The boy ran to him, absolutely delighted… Haymitch caught him by reflex, tossed him over his shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world and ignored the squirming boy who was giggling like a madman… He made his way to Effie who was watching him with a smile, Timotheo still clinging to her leg…
"So?" he asked "What are we playing?"
Apparently, it was frowned upon for the President of Panem and his Press Secretary to play hooky for a whole hour to run around in the gardens. They were sweaty and disheveled when Plutarch finally hunted them down and his Chief-of-Staff wasn't entirely pleased about their disappearance. He probably had a point but Haymitch found he couldn't regret it because he had one boy perched on his shoulders and the other hanging from his arm and it was the most fun he had had in ages…
"It is my fault, I am terribly sorry, Plutarch. I lost track of time." Effie apologized with a fake contrite expression on her face that seemed to convince the other man because he sighed and immediately apologized himself for having made her feel bad.
There was a lot of apologizing all around that Haymitch chose not to be a part of.
"How do you even run in those shoes?" he asked, because that was the question that was primary on his mind, when they slowly made their way back inside.
"Wouldn't you like to know…" She grinned. "I will take those, if you do not mind."
She pointed at the boys still hanging from different parts of him – hence the slow walk back inside. "I don't know, sweetheart… They're fun. Maybe we should keep them…"
There were a lot of enthusiastic yes about that but, as Effie pointed out, there probably was a frantic mother out there wondering where her children had disappeared to.
He resigned himself to finish his boring day of work. It was mostly paperwork. He hated paperwork.
Fortunately, by five thirty the situation in Eight had been resolved and he could decide to call it a day, guilt-free. He fully expected to be the first back in the Presidential Suite because Effie never left her office before six but he was surprised to find her in the living-room.
There were two sleeping boys on the couch and she was curled up in an armchair, her hair loose and sticking out at odd angles because of all the hairspray she had used that morning… She made a vague attempt at flattening it out when she saw him but he could only smirk and leaned down to peck her lips.
"Beautiful." he said.
She huffed as if he was being annoying but she blushed a little. She also didn't protest when he decided the armchair was big enough for two and she ended up sitting sideways with her legs tossed over his lap, very much snuggled against his chest. She had also lost the shoes at some point, he noticed.
"So, how come we have guests?" he asked since he had never gotten the full story earlier.
She summed it up quickly for him and then sighed. "They were getting cranky in the office so I brought them up and had them eat an early dinner… They dropped right after…" She shook her head. "I am so behind with work… I will need to get some done later before bed…"
"Can't it keep?" he dismissed. "There's no real crisis right now…"
"I would feel better if I knew the dam project will go smoothly." she replied but sighed again. "Although I suppose it can wait until tomorrow now that Eight is resolved…" She snorted. "I think this was the longest day of my life…"
"But fun." he pointed out with a snort of his own.
"But fun." she granted, watching the two sleeping boys with something like longing on her face. "They look almost adorable like that, don't they?"
"To be fair, they're pretty adorable even when they're being pains in the ass…" he teased. "They're smart kids."
"They are." she agreed with a small smile.
They were quiet for a while, enjoying the silence.
His hand was on her thigh, he was distractedly drawing random patterns on her skin with his thumb… He watched her watch the kids… He watched the boys sleep…
Slowly, the fear receded and underneath he found… Well… There was a part of him who wanted… Chaff had said he had already made the decision and that he was just trying to find reasons to dissuade himself… He wasn't sure it was like that, really, but…
"Effie?" he whispered, his voice sounding rough to his own ears, almost strangled. She hummed in answer, a bit distracted or maybe tired… It was hard to say. He swallowed hard, licked his dry lips… "Let's… Let's have one."
She hummed again. "One what?"
Distracted, then. Lost in thoughts.
It was an out.
He could say let's have one pizza or let's have one burger or one of those things she considered guilty pleasure and that they didn't eat a lot as a rule…
He could pretend he hadn't meant to say what he was saying and…
"Are you alright?" she asked with a frown, drawing back from him a little. Her hand was on his chest. "Your heart is racing."
He searched her eyes, fighting an instinctive panic… It was flight or fight and his brain was screaming at him that flight was the best course of action. That…
The words tumbled out of his mouth. "Let's have a baby."
She blinked at him once, twice, three times, as if she didn't understand what he was saying, as if he was suddenly speaking a different language entirely. "What?"
It was strangled, faint. And the fact that she had said what and not sorry or I beg your pardon… It was telling…
"A baby." he repeated, still sounding strange to his own ears. "Let's do it."
She stared at him for a long time, long enough that it was awkward that she hadn't yet answered him… When she finally did, she looked lost. "You don't…"
"I do. Kinda." he interrupted before she could argue he didn't want children. "If it's yours. Ain't so scary if it's yours."
That was a tiny white lie.
It was absolutely terrifying regardless of the fact the baby would be hers. But it was, maybe, a tiny bit less terrifying than it would be with anyone else.
She kept staring at him, her breathing quickening a little. Hope flashed on her face but disappeared quickly behind a guarded mask. "But we can't. It isn't… It…"
"Why not?" he challenged, keeping his voice low enough that it wouldn't wake the boys. "I've been thinking about it and…"
"I do not want to lose my job, Haymitch." she interrupted in a hurried whisper. "I know it is selfish but…"
"You don't have to." He shrugged. "Look, we've been getting away with us for how long? It's the same thing. We just have to turn it into a joke, yeah? As long as people share the joke, they won't care who your baby's father is… We just say it's a mystery… Usual wink wink, nudge nudge dance…"
A dark glint of outrage flashed in her eyes. "I won't ask my child to hide who their father is… I won't turn my child into a dirty secret."
"No, that ain't…" He shook his head. "Look… Here's what I'm thinking… That kid, we need to make him, right? That's gonna take time. Then it needs to cook nine months…"
"Cook?" she scoffed. "I am not an oven, Haymitch!"
"Shhh." he reminded her, glancing at the sleeping boys.
"Do not shush me!" she snapped in a hushed whisper.
"Point is, the kid won't have to lie about anything because by the time I'm done being President he probably won't be able to talk yet." he argued. "And he won't be a dirty secret. It would be my kid… Everyone's gonna know it's my kid… We just don't… you know… confirm it until we step down."
"So you would only acknowledge paternity in three years?" she huffed. "Legally, I mean? So what if anything happens to me? Do not look at me this way, you know more than anyone accidents happen."
His arm tightened around her waist and he suddenly wished he had waited until they were… not cuddled in a cramped armchair to have that conversation. Maybe he should have waited until they were in bed.
"It's my kid. My name goes on the birth certificate from day one." he argued.
"And what do we do when the press gets their hands on the birth certificate?" she retorted. "Those records are not exactly hard to find."
He rolled his eyes. "I'm the President, sweetheart… If I want to hide a birth certificate, I can." He squeezed her thigh once, gently. "Look, I'm just saying… That part… I think we really can get away with it."
"Or we could wait until you are not President and spare ourselves the headache." she pointed out.
"Sure. We can do that too. But…" He made a small face, not quite sure how to word that in a way that wouldn't get him banished to the couch for the night.
"What is it? Are you scared you would change your mind?" she accused.
"No." He frowned. "It's just… You're gonna be really close to forty in three years… Plus the time it takes to actually get the show on the road… I don't know… Do you think…"
For a second, he was certain she was going to accuse him of saying she was old and make a fuss about that. She considered it. She so obviously considered it… But then she deflated.
"True." she granted. "You do understand that right now or in three years…" She shook her head. "I do not even know why I am arguing with you… Chances of actually getting pregnant, they're…"
She let her sentence trail of.
"Well… Maybe you can check out what it would take?" he suggested. "With a doctor, I mean… You said you didn't know what kind of treatment it'd be… Maybe we just try and if it doesn't work…"
"Then it isn't meant to be…" she whispered.
"Then there are other ways to get a kid if we really want one." he countered. After all… He had more or less adopted Katniss, as Chaff had pointed out, and she hadn't turned out too fucked up… Sure, he hadn't been responsible for her the way he would be for his own kid but… He had been there when it counted or he had tried to be at least when she would let him… "Thing is… If we wanna try for real I think now's a good time… You don't wanna be pregnant or have a baby when you're trying to run for President…"
She startled as if that wasn't something she had considered at all.
"I cannot be President if we have a child…" she whispered.
He scoffed. "That's the most stupid thing I've heard today… Why the fuck not?"
"I do not want to have a child to have them being raised by a nanny and a governess." she replied. "If I get elected to anything, never mind the Presidential Office… You know the hours we keep… I would… We should not bring a child into this world if we are not willing to take care of him and…"
"And what am I?" he scoffed again. "Yeah, you're gonna be crazy busy but I know you, Princess, there's always gonna be time for your kid. Besides… My schedule's better than your schedule right now so… You know. Being President ain't the worst gig I had time wise." He shook his head. "Point is, that kid won't be raised by nannies 'cause I'm gonna be right here. Ain't like I was planning on getting another job after this one… I can pick up the slack. Be a stay-at-home dad or whatever…"
She pursed her lips. "I don't know…"
"Yeah…" He chuckled, a bit bitterly, a bit disappointed and not quite sure why. "Wouldn't trust me to look after a kid either…"
"No!" she protested a little too loud. Bryden stirred but didn't wake up. "That isn't it at all. It is not about you, it is about me. I just… I do not want to turn into my father or, god forbids, my mother… If I have a child I want to… I want to be there for them…"
Something eased in his chest. "And you're gonna be. You can do both, you know. I know you. I know you can."
She stared at him for a moment and then averted her eyes. "This is all conjecture anyway. We do not know if I will ever get elected to anything, never mind President, and we do not even know if…" She took a deep breath. "Are you sure you want to try this, Haymitch? Assuming we even get away with the public side of things… I can give you no guarantee that… It is possible I could never get pregnant. It is possible I could get pregnant and lose the baby. Can you… Can you handle that?"
It was a real question, he realized. He didn't do well with grief and she knew that. He also didn't do well with people he loved being in danger so…
It was a real question and he took the time to think about it, if only because he owed her that much.
"I think I want your baby…" he said slowly.
"You think?" she half-scoffed.
"I want your baby." he argued, tilting his head to shoot her a reproachful look. "But it's also not something I… Look, as long as I have you, it's also not something I…" He wasn't sure how to say it without being either offensive or sounding like a huge ass. The crux of the matter was he had never wanted children before and even if he was warming to the thought, at the end of the day, if it didn't happen, it would probably not be a huge regret for him at the end of his life. But he didn't want her to have any sort of regret whatsoever. "I want your baby." he repeated again. "But it's not…"
"Not terribly important if you do not get it." she finished for him, a little bitterly.
"Yeah…" he breathed out, relieved, and immediately realized that was the wrong thing to say. "No." He took a breath and held it, at a loss. "Sweetheart, what I'm trying to say…"
"I understand what you are trying to say." she snapped.
"Don't think you do 'cause I can barely make sense of it myself." He scowled, running his hand up and down her leg in a soothing motion. It was probably a good thing she was still sitting on his lap. If she had been mad, she would have left the armchair, sleeping kids or not… "I've been thinking about it… A mini-us… And I like the idea. But if it doesn't happen… I guess… I guess I can accept it 'cause I never expected it to… Just… I don't want you to regret not trying, you know? That's all." He let out a frustrated breath. "It's your call, Effie. That's what I'm trying to say. The whole thing, it's your call. We can try for one, if you want to. We can look into other ways, if that's what you want. Or we can stop talking about it and pretend this conversation never happened."
He probably looked a bit too hopeful for that last option if the look she shot him was any indication.
"Does this have to do with your sudden aversion for condoms?" she asked, frowning.
He shook his head. "Nah, that was overdue either way."
She tilted her head and granted the point. "It was." She pursed her lips harder. "Do you truly think I could do it all and still be a good mother? Be a Press Secretary, be whatever Plutarch will get me elected as, be a President…"
"Yeah." he offered without a single moment of hesitation. "But I can't promise I'm gonna be any good at…"
"Oh, hush." she dismissed with an annoyed wave of her hand. "You are wonderful with young children and you managed Katniss for long enough that I have no doubt about your hypothetical parenting skills…" She slowly leaned back against him, snuggling close again. He didn't waste a second in tightening his embrace, happy to have her close. "Any child of ours… They would be in the spotlight for the rest of their lives… Is that fair to do that to them?"
"I don't know." he answered honestly. "But we'd keep him safe, yeah? Or her. We could, right?"
"Between our respective protective tendencies, Katniss, Peeta and Boggs… I would say so, yes." She chuckled, relaxing a little more. "I do not… It is alright if I do not decide right now, yes? I just… I need to think. Talk to a doctor. I do not… I truly do not know what it would take. I want to know before I decide."
"Sure." he whispered, planting a kiss on her head. "It's all good."
"And if I do not… If I decide not to…" she hesitated.
"All good." he insisted. "We'll wait for Katniss and Peeta to make babies so we can spoil them. And in the meantime, we can spoil your sister's kids."
She laughed. It was chocked with relief and emotions. "You know…"
He would never know what it was he was supposed to know because her phone started ringing and it woke up the two tornadoes asleep on his couch. She jumped off his lap to pick up the phone.
"Finally!" she snapped without even a hello. "Where were you? Yes, I have them. Why are you screaming at me, Lyssa? I am not the one who disappeared all day! Well, it is not my fault if Mother decided to play balls with your children! I do not know where Father is! He dropped them off to me after lunch! Well, stop ringing the doorbell before you disturb the neighbors, I am not at my apartment, I am at the Mansion!" Effie rolled his eyes. "Just call me when you get here, I will bring them out to you. You are welcome by the way. Of course, I did not abandon them in an office with an intern. That is Father's babysitting style. I understand you owe Mrs Glueberry a new goldfish, by the way. Well, I doubt the fact she has always been awful has an impact on the poor goldfish. Yes, they are safe, I am telling you. They are in the residence with us, which means they are probably in the safest place in Panem." Given how quickly Effie was talking, he wasn't sure how either sister could understand anything of the conversation. "Here, boys. Your ungrateful mother wants to talk to you. Do tell her I have kept you entertained, will you?"
Bryden was still rubbing his eyes when he took the phone but immediately brightened when he heard his mother. "Hi, Mama! Not it was super fun! We played with Auntie Effie and Uncle Haymitch!" Haymitch startled badly at that new title but Effie simply grinned. "Did you know they live in a palace? And did you know they have a huge, huge garden? They don't have lions though… Can we come and play again? Oh, and did you know the General of the Cat Patrol lived in Auntie's office? What? Sorry. I beg your pardon? Ah, okay."
He handed the phone to Timotheo.
Timotheo looked distinctively grumpy at having been woken up. "'Lo?"
There wasn't a lot of talking on the little boy's part but there was a lot of nodding. Not that Haymitch could follow most of that conversation because Bryden, who had clearly been refreshed by his nap, dragged him to the chess set in the corner and told him that his father had taught him a little and could they play, please?
He blamed the eyes.
Bryden had Lyssa's eyes and Lyssa's eyes were Effie's eyes…
"Sure." he said.
It was forty minutes before Lyssa managed to beat the traffic and come get her kids. Effie came back from having escorted the boys out in a huff. "Can you believe she screamed at me for having misplaced her own children when I have been taking care of them all day?" She huffed again. "Mother has a lot to answer for. Lyssa was frantic when she realized Father supposedly had them but was nowhere to be found. I did call her… Well… To be fair, she probably had fifty missed calls from me and about a hundred from Peeta so… I suppose I can see why she would panic…"
"What was that about the goldfish?" he asked.
"You don't want to know, trust me." She sighed. "Children are high maintenance, aren't they?"
He snorted. "Yeah."
She watched him for a second, hands on her hips, hair sticking out all around her head like a weird asymmetrical hallo… "Do you still want one?"
He smirked, remembering just how she had looked with Timotheo in her arms… "Yeah."
She smiled back, almost hesitantly.
"You know…" He stood up and wrapped his arms around her, tugging her closer in a practiced move. "Maybe we could… practice."
She lifted an eyebrow, her smile turning into grin. "Practice?"
"In case we decide to really do it…" He smirked wider. "Always better to practice…"
"Such diligence seems out of character for you, Mr President…" she pointed out. "You are usually happy to wing it."
"I make exceptions for you, sweetheart, what can I say?" he joked.
If the soft kiss she gave him was any indication, he didn't have to say anything more…
Somehow, he must have managed to say the right thing for once.
That was suuuuch a long one! But it was funny to write! I hope you enjoyed this! Please do let me know as I live for comments as you know... I need substenance ;)