Prompt: I love reading your fics about Effie's family! Could you write something where instead of Elindra making her comments to bring Effie down, it's her father that says something and it really upsets Effie because she knows he's not the type to make meaningless petty comments for the sake of it like Elindra does. Maybe it's in the phase where Hayffie are basically exclusive (even if they won't admit it) so haymitch does understand how much it genuinely hurts her?
Her Kind of Smart
Couture wasn't meant to be worn when all you intended to do was curl up on an armchair and Effie felt bad for the shimmering red and silver dress she had creased beyond salvation. It was a shame too because the bustier dress was gorgeous and she had been excited to wear it at that party. It was a long dress, elegant, with a frontal slit that came up almost to her crotch and revealed her legs when she walked, fabric wrapping and floating around her calves and thighs with every step…
Yes, she would have been the talk of that party. Had she gone.
Instead, she had dragged one of the penthouse's armchairs close to the bay window, she had kicked off the towering silver heels and she had spent the last half hour watching the city night lights turn the sky into a show of neon colors beams.
Cigarette wedged between two fingers and angled away from her skin, she toyed with the diamond ring on her thumb. It was slightly too small. She needed to have it resized. Or buy herself another one.
The elevator chimed and she schooled her features, glad that she had resisted the urge to take her wig and her make-up off along with her heels. The heavy footsteps that stomped toward the living-room were familiar and, blissfully, there were no small herd of elephants trailing after them so she supposed she would be spared the company of Eleven's victor and of whoever else was into their little club that night.
"There you are." Haymitch grumbled.
It was only because she had been working with him for six years that she caught the dash of relief in his voice. And perhaps because they had been sleeping together more or less accidentally and regularly for three.
"I did not think you would be looking for me." she apologized, barely sparing him a glance. He had on a suit that didn't seem too crumpled, no tie but that was to be expected when he was left unsupervised, so she counted her blessings. At least he hadn't showed up to the party wearing pajamas like he had once before just to spite her.
"You said you'd make yourself a necklace with my balls if I didn't meet you at that party on time and you were nowhere to be found." he snapped. "Of course, I was looking for you."
"I would never be that vulgar." she remarked, watching the bright pink neon beam from the Colico Club trace spirals into the night sky.
She brought the cigarette to her lips as an afterthought.
"What happened to cornering the Galls and getting them to promise us a sponsoring next year?" he mocked, mostly because he never trusted her schemes to get sponsors for the following year once they were out of the race to pan out. And for good reasons.
It never hurt to endear yourself to big sponsors but…
"It was a stupid plan." she admitted.
He made a double take, stopping dead in his tracks on his way to the liquor cart. She didn't look at him, she kept watching the night sky.
"Who kicked your puppy, princess?" he taunted.
She licked her lips, took a drag of her cigarette and didn't answer. He was bound to remark on the smoking soon, bound to remind her he didn't like her doing that inside and that they had a roof she could go smoke on.
He watched her a little longer and then resumed his walk to the cart. She listened to the familiar sound of ice cubes falling into a glass and of liquid being poured, lost into her own thoughts. She startled a little when he handed her a tall glass full of pink liquid with a yellow straw half dangling off the rim. She crushed what was left of her cigarette in the ashtray and took it with a soft word of thanks.
"So? What happened to you?" he insisted, switching his glass of whiskey from one hand to the other so he could remove his jacket and toss it on the couch where it fell off in a heap on the floor. "You're all dolled up. How come you didn't come down?"
There was a small dose of suspicion in his voice. As if he suspected foul play of some sort and she had no doubt he was already imagining a scandalous tryst with a sponsor or a Gamemaker.
"Migraine." she lied.
"Right…" He snorted and flopped down on the other armchair. "Funny how you always seem to have headaches when you go to your folks' place…" He took a sip of whiskey, watching her over the rim of the glass with his eyebrows raised. "So… What did the bitch say today? You gained a pound? You need to get some plastic pumped in your ass or your tits?"
Haymitch had only met her mother once, quite by accident, and it had gone so disastrously wrong that she had vowed to make sure they would never found themselves in the same room again. Elindra had made snide remarks like she always did and he hadn't taken kindly to that.
"I did not see my mother. Who you will refrain from calling names." She hissed the last part as a warning. "I had a business meeting with my father, if you must know. It must have been a very boring party. It is early for you to be back."
The switch of topic was abrupt, too abrupt to be polite, but she knew he wouldn't care.
She took a cautious sip of the cocktail he had fixed for her – her favorite – and then a second one. It was not too bad. A bit too sweet and syrupy, she could barely taste the tequila, but it was good and it would do. She stirred the liquid with the straw.
He looked disappointed she hadn't used it.
He did like watching her suck on things…
"Ain't that early." He shrugged, glancing at the clock. It was, by Capitol standards. And, it was, given how sober he still was. She had become something of an expert at estimating his level of inebriation and, right then, he was toying the line between tipsy and slightly drunk – which, for him, was practically sober. "It was boring, though. Chaff was busy and you weren't there to talk shit about the vultures behind their backs." He studied her a second and then took another sip of his drink. "Got plenty done though. Annoyed Crane, got us a lunch date with the Galls tomorrow – your treat – and I let a pretty pink-haired girl suck me off in the bathroom."
She felt a jolt of annoyance.
She didn't care but did he have to tell her? Was she telling him all about the men and women she bedded when he wasn't around to get her off? No. It would have been in poor taste.
That and…
She pursed her lips. "What did you do to annoy Seneca?"
"You're sure that's what you want to know?" he challenged, eyes twinkling with amusement.
She wasn't in the mood for his games. Not tonight.
She brought the glass to her lips, swallowed down a healthy amount, enough to make her feel a bit dizzy, and then carefully balanced the drink on the armrest, right behind the ashtray. He groaned when she fished the packet of cigarettes from the folds of her dress and slipped one out. She felt around for the plastic lighter, almost knocking the glass off-balance in the process.
"I want the information by order of importance." she finally answered, once her cigarette was lit and she had taken a drag. She breathed out the smoke away from him, even if his armchair was some distance away. She could respect the fact he hated the smell. "First, what did you do to Seneca. Second, how in Panem did you manage to snatch a lunch date with the Galls? Livia has been trying for weeks."
"I'm good like that." he dismissed, crossing his legs. His left ankle balanced on his right knee, his stance wide… She had never known anyone who could make that position look so obscene. "Crane… Might have crashed his date with his latest pretty boy… Thought he might know where you were…" He made a show of licking his lips. "Now the pink-haired girl…"
"I have no interest in hearing about the girls you manage to convince to perform sexual favors for you, Haymitch." she cut him off before he could give her a detailed account of the blow job. "Women, now… We might even have the same tastes. Who knows."
"She wasn't that young." he grumbled defensively, ignoring her bait. "That's just a way of speaking."
"I know." she granted. He had never been one to leer at younger girls. She didn't think she had ever caught him being genuinely interested in anyone under twenty-five. "Well… I am glad you had fun."
He looked disappointed by her lack of reaction.
"Wasn't that fun." he admitted. "Was rather sloppy. Not everyone's as good at sucking cocks as you are…"
"Thank you very much for that compliment." she deadpanned around her cigarette. She turned her face toward the window again so he wouldn't see the flash of hurt. Any other night, she might have laughed it off and be sincerely amused. She would have kept the banter going, even. Challenge him a little.
He had been expecting just that, it was probably why he had made the comment in the first place. It was also plain to see he didn't know how to handle her unusual behavior.
He seemed to think it over for a second and then winced. "It really wasn't great. I was just bored. If you'd been there…"
If she had been there she would probably have pushed him in a dark corridor or an empty room or would have convinced him to go back to the penthouse early.
If he had been late like she had half-expected him to be and still in the penthouse when she had come back from her parents, she might even have suggested they skipped the party altogether.
"I do not care." she snapped.
"Then why are you all… weird?" he retorted.
She shook her head and dismissed the subject entirely. She didn't want to think about other women sucking him off. She didn't want to think about him with other women.
What they had was casual at its finest and it worked well enough. For the most part. Unless he went and told her about other women with pink hair giving him blow jobs.
She must have taken too long to answer and pulled on her cigarette a little too aggressively because he cleared his throat. "What kind of business?"
For a moment she thought she had spaced out and missed a change of topic. "I beg your pardon?"
"You said you were meeting your dad for business. What kind of business?" he insisted.
She shot him an irritated look. "Since when are you taking such an interest in my personal life?"
"Since you doll yourself up but don't show up at a party and fail to take me up on my very subtle offer for sex." he retorted, his tone flat. "Now, your mom, she says stupid stuff, you get all upset, you storm back here with daggers in your eyes and climb me like a tree…" He smirked and toasted her with his glass. "Which I ain't complaining about, by the way. But you went to see your dad and now you're brooding like someone killed your favorite kitten, so… Not that I really care, sweetheart, but what kind of business did you have with your dad that put you in that weird mood?"
There was a sharp dangerous glint in his grey eyes. As if he was angry someone had upset her.
It was gone in a flash and she told herself she had imagined it.
"I made a bad investment." She sighed. "It will cost me money if it fails but if I back out I might just lose what I invested altogether. Their lawyer is a shark. I wanted my father's opinion."
And she should have just abstained.
"Money?" he scoffed, dubious. "You're looking this gutted over money? Ain't you loaded?"
It was rude and improper to discuss someone's income and, usually, she would have redirected the conversation to the weather.
But tonight she was fed up.
"I am actually." she snapped. "I have a small fortune. That I made by myself. I saved and invested a small part of every cent I have ever made. I made sure it fructified. I turned my name into a brand and that is constant work. I always make sure I have final approval on everything related to me, the PR work is enormous and the money… I always made sure to be clever. Never all my eggs in the same basket. Diversify, that is the key to successful investment and I have been doing it for years." She snatched her glass and downed a few gulps. If her hand was shaky, she blamed the liquor. "Do I have an agent? Yes. Although I wonder why I pay her, most days. Do I have a team of bankers to watch over my money? Of course. Is my lawyer the best in the city? For the fees I pay him, he better be. But does that mean I simply let them blindly toss my money around without a care in the world? Absolutely not." She finished the glass in a long mouthful. "I study every business proposition, I carefully balance the pros and cons, I try to favor small businesses, that is true, I try to help young fashion houses when I can, that is also true, but I do invest in bigger safer groups and, truly, to assume I am enough of an idiot to…" She stopped talking and took a deep breath. "One mistake. I made one mistake. Bad investments happen but this one will take out a chunk of my budget. Yet it was one mistake in how many bloody years? I have been managing alone since I was seventeen and I did not do badly for myself! Did I?"
Haymitch blinked at her, leaning slightly back as if to better avoid the angry outpour of words. "I… guess?"
She pursed her lips, snorted and stared at the night sky again, trying to collect herself. Making a spectacle of herself wouldn't help.
"Everyone assumes I am such an idiot." she muttered.
"Well, to be fair, sweetheart…" he started but she lifted a warning hand to interrupt him, cigarette and all.
"Don't." she cut him off. "Not tonight."
She hadn't meant to sound so pleading, so vulnerable.
Her father got to her in very different ways than her mother did. She had gone to him for advice, equal to equal, businessman to businesswoman. She had thought he would be impressed when he would see the numbers, how well she managed her assets…
She should have known better.
All she had gotten were criticisms, unwanted advices about parts of her finances she had no intention of changing and urgings to get in touch with the family's accountant as soon as possible.
"All I'm saying is that you can't complain people think you're an idiot when that's the act you're selling them." he argued, surprising her. "You're the cheerful firecracker who's sometimes too sassy for her own good, that's your brand."
She had started dropping the mask a little for him, unintentionally, but she hadn't realized he was aware of just how artificial her persona was. The look he gave her now tell her she was an idiot for being surprised about it. Haymitch was far more perceptive than people gave him credit for. They underestimated him because of the drunk role he fed them but he was far from being the simple man they believed him to be. It was easy to forget he had outsmarted forty-eight tributes sometimes.
"Most people would say my brand is being beautiful." she argued.
"That's just the package." he dismissed. And leered at her. "A very pretty package though, even with all that crap on your face… Still not taking it off for me?"
His insistence that she took her make-up and wig off for him had started as a joke. Now it was… Well, there was a yearning in his voice when he asked, but he always used a light tone because he knew the answer to that question.
"No." She pouted, on cue. But she still wasn't in a flirty mood and she sighed, flicking ashes off her cigarette. She had let it burn itself out so she dropped it in the ashtray. "I just wish my father would see that I am…" Her voice trailed off because she was unsure of her own thoughts. She sighed again. "I do not know. I am not beautiful enough for my mother and my father thinks I should focus on being beautiful because I have no brain." Haymitch chuckled and tossed his head back to finish his glass. She glared at him. "Are you laughing at me?"
"No." he denied, still sounding amused but also a little bit annoyed. "I'm wondering how two people like that can have a daughter like you." She wanted to ask what he meant by that but he stood up and stalked closer, unbuttoning his waistcoat. She stared at his hand as he did that. She couldn't help herself. "Sweetheart, you're probably the smartest Capitol I've ever met."
She shook her head. "You are being unexpectedly nice and I appreciate the flattery but that is a ridiculous statement. I am no genius."
"You ain't a genius." he agreed, planting his hands on either side of her head on the headrest so he was looming over her. "So what? You're good enough with numbers, better than me in any case." It cost him to acknowledge that, she knew, because his education – or lack of – was a sore point for him. "And that ain't the smart I'm talking about. You can read a room like nobody I've seen."
"That is not being smart." she protested.
"Sure, it is." he countered. "You know people. You take one look and you know what make them tick. You know how to make them do what you want. Nobody who's as fucking good at scheming as you are is dumb, Princess. Nobody. And if your dad doesn't see that? Well, he's the idiot. Joke's on him." He leaned down until his mouth brushed against hers. "Wanna work out some of that anger on me, now?"
She pouted. "You put your cock in strange places tonight. I am not sure I want it anywhere near me."
She was being vulgar on purpose. It never failed to arouse him when she spat out dirty words.
Sure enough, his eyes darkened with lust.
He stuck out his tongue and poked her lips with it. Not a kiss though.
"What about if I let you ride it?" he offered.
A rare offer, indeed.
"It still would have spent far too long in another woman's mouth, now, wouldn't it?" she hummed, leaning forward just a little, just enough that she spoke the words right against his mouth.
"Barely five minutes." he grumbled.
That wasn't the right thing to say.
Her pout deepened and it wasn't quite an act. "She must have been terribly gorgeous for you to finish so fast…"
"No good reason to hold off." he retorted. "Not as good as your pretty warm mouth…"
Her pretty warm mouth innocently pecked at the stubble under his bottom lip. "She will go around saying you are a premature ejaculator… Women won't seduce you in the bathroom anymore… What a shame…"
He chuckled. "I'm sure you're gonna be crushed by that."
She batted her eyelashes, drawing back so she could meet his eyes. "I have no idea what you mean."
"Sure." He smirked, leaning down to kiss her properly.
She strained her neck to the side to avoid it.
"I am serious when I say I do not want another woman's drool inside me…" she remarked.
He tensed. "Are you being a tease or are you really saying no? Cause if you really don't wanna, I'm gonna have another drink."
"Run me a bath." she demanded.
He stood straight and scoffed. "You've got Avoxes for that."
"I will not let the Avoxes fuck me in the bathtub, Haymitch." she huffed, as if he was being particularly obtuse. "There is not enough space for an orgy."
He stared at her.
And stared some more.
Then he shook his head and departed, presumably to run her the bath she had requested, muttering under his breath about how feisty witty women would be his downfall.
She grinned.
I hope you liked it! Please let me know your thoughts!