Some more Seneca/&Effie background story because I just love their friendship. This is still hayffie oriented but it's not the main focus so if you want to skip that's fine ;)

What Best Friends Are For

Effie rolled to her side with a sigh and tugged the sheet higher to cover her body.

"A post orgasm sigh… Is that your way of telling me my performance left a lot to be desired, sweetest?" Seneca mocked behind her.

A glance over her shoulder confirmed he was lounging on his bed like he had no care in the world – and he probably didn't – naked and very much not hiding under the sheets. Why would he hide, though? There was nothing of his she hadn't seen years earlier – save for his natural hair color – and it was exactly the same for her.

Abandoning her ridiculous pretence at modesty, she rolled on her back, letting the sheet pool beneath her breasts. "This was a mistake."

Seneca laughed. "I must be very out of practice with women, then."

She pouted and shot him an annoyed look. "That is not what I am saying and you know it."

The sex had been far from perfect, true. He was high on recreational drugs and she was way past tipsy, there had been a lot of fumbling that had seemed hilarious until it was over. Now there was a lot of regrets. At least on her part.

It wasn't the first time they slept together but it had been a while since it had happened.

"All for fun, Effie." he hummed, waving a dismissive hand in the air. "Relax."

"Will Marius see it as that?" she insisted.

She liked Seneca's current boyfriend. He was different from his usual collection of pretty – but dumb – boys. Marius was an architect, a quiet sort of man who tempered Seneca's more flamboyant personality. They were good together.

Seneca let out a small sigh of his own. "Marius and I are done."

She frowned. They had spent the whole night together at that nightclub and he hadn't even hinted at a breakup. He had told her Marius was working late and couldn't join them.

"What happened?" she asked hesitantly, shifting to her side so she could watch him.

He sighed again, blindly reaching for something on the bedside table. He fumbled until he found the little box and then sat up so he could roll himself a joint. The acrid smell of the herbs made Effie wrinkle her nose.

It was better than him looking for his pills though. He assured her he knew what he was doing but with his mother swallowing antidepressants like candies, she always urged him to be careful. Addiction… Well, she was more familiar with it than she wanted to be.

"What always happens." he eventually answered. "He wanted to go public and I cannot do that."

"Seneca…" She reached out to still his arm. "That's…"

He shook his head. "He was talking about marriage. Children."

"Don't you want that?" she asked, not quite certain they had ever really had that conversation aside from the various times over the years they had joked about getting married to each other just to get their families off their backs.

He scoffed. "Do you?"

There was a hardness to his voice that he rarely used with her but she understood what he was saying. They had joined the Games business the same year. It had been seven years now and, no, she certainly didn't mourn the fact she couldn't have babies anymore. She had seen too many children die. It was one thing to watch it on TV, where it was all a game, where it was all unreal, it was another thing to be close to the tributes, to live with them for two weeks and then…

She supposed it was yet again another thing altogether to engineer those tributes' death. She was only a clog in the machine and she already had troubles sleeping at night, was relying far too much on sleeping pills to get the rest she needed… To actually be the one who pulled the lever… She couldn't imagine the guilt – although she didn't need to, she had seen it flashing in Haymitch's eyes often enough when it was late and he was too drunk to care about her seeing him lose it.

Not that they would ever mention any of that aloud.

Even between close friends some topics shouldn't be raised. Anything that could be constructed as even remotely criticizing the Capitol was off the table.

"Children… No. But marriage could still be nice." she suggested.

"It could be." He nodded. "But the son of Oresto Crane won't marry a man and you know that as well as I do."

Oresto Crane was a pompous arrogant selfish prick, in Effie's opinion, but she would never dare word it as such. She was luckier on that front. Her mother did try to match her off with old dinosaurs of men but, if she ever brought home a woman she was serious about marrying, Elindra would probably only see the marriage prospect. As long as the woman was suitably wealthy and of good breeding…

Her mother certainly liked her current girlfriend and was not so subtly hinting that Effie should secure the match while she could. If she showed up the next Sunday at brunch and declared they were engaged, she didn't think her parents would disapprove or forbid it. They would probably be relieved to see her finally lead the life they wanted for her.

It was different for Seneca.

It was all about the Crane legacy.

"I am sorry." she offered, sitting up to take the lighter from his shaky hands and light the joint for him. "Are you sure that is wise? You took a lot of those pills already…"

"Not enough, trust me." He snorted. "But if you wish to distract me further…"

He trailed the back of his hand down her collarbone, down her breast…

She was tempted, truth be told.

Tempted to…

She let the moment pass her by, not quite sure why.

"What about you?" he asked, taking a long drag. "How is it going with Lys?"

She felt a little jolt in her belly, as always when her name was mentioned. Love always had a way of making a fool of her and this time was no exception. She had fallen hard and fast but…

"It probably won't work out." she admitted regretfully. She stole the joint from his fingers, stole a few drags until she felt her head getting suitably cloudy and handed it back. Then she dropped flat on her back, forgetting to worry about the pink wig pinned to her head, and stared at the canopy of Seneca's very comfortable bed. "She is… far too smart. And beautiful. You know I hate to be outdone."

"It is not like you to depreciate yourself." he pointed out. "Lys is a beautiful woman, true, but at the end of the day she is just… She is a socialite. You are a famous model, an escort… I would say, career wise, you are far more successful."

Lys Verdi was a socialite, true, but she was also… She was magnetic. Effie was charismatic and could enchant a room with a smile and a bat of her eyelashes but Lys… Lys did it effortlessly. She didn't need to try and catch everyone's attention because everyone gave it to her willingly. And she had a brilliant mind. Effie wasn't dumb herself but she often found she couldn't keep up and that was not a nice feeling. Lys was never cruel about that but, sometimes, when she was talking about people in specific fields and Effie would say something that missed the mark, she would toss her a slightly embarrassed look. She never reproached her anything directly, usually laughed it off so Effie's remark wasn't turned in ridicule, but in a way it was worse. The fact that Lys felt as if she had to cover for her being inadequate…

Effie would rather stick to the world of smoke screens, clock and daggers she knew. She might be swimming with sharks but sharks could be outsmarted. Scientists and philosophers, not so much.

"I am in love with her." she confessed. "But love…"

"Romantic love is a fleeting treacherous little thing." Seneca finished when her voice trailed off. "True enough." He turned his head to look at her, a softer expression on his face. "Friendly love, now… That's different."

"Are you quite certain?" She pouted. "Because my best friend might be the next Head Gamemaker and I am still Twelve's escort…"

He laughed, unrestrained and uncalculated like he would never have in public. "I would give you to Odair in a heartbeat, if I could. He asks for you every year without fail… Torello is set on keeping you in Twelve."

She heaved out a dramatic sigh. "I will have to accept my fate, then."

"Not that Abernathy would let you go without a fuss even if I could get you promoted." he added, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement.

"He hates me." she retorted, making sure her voice was dismissive enough.

"If he truly hated you, he would have gotten rid of you by now. He was not shy about threatening to murder Viola if we did not remove her from Twelve." he replied. "Torello is convinced he was serious about it."

"Viola is a pain and I cannot blame him." She snorted. "But he would not have hurt her. He would never touch a defenseless woman."

"I would not call Viola defenseless." Seneca pointed out. He waited a beat, took a few drags of his special cigarette and then chuckled. "This… rift with Lys… It would not have anything to do with your… professional interest for a certain victor, by any chance?"

Even with her head clouded by the drinks and the drugs, she could see the dangerous trap he was setting. "I have no idea what you mean."

"Of course. You do know the Center's floors are monitored, right?" he teased. "Senior Gamemakers have access to surveillance footage." She shot him a glare, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. He rolled his eyes. "I never checked it. I just know the file exists." He paused. "Valeria and Brutus' file, now, I did check. Fascinating man, wouldn't you say?"

She shook her head at the dreamy look on his face and stole the joint from his fingers. She took a last drag and reached over him for the ashtray on the bedside table. She crushed the cigarette despite his protests.

"There is nothing going on." she insisted. "And whatever happened was inconsequential."

"So you won't be sleeping with him when the Games start again?" Seneca challenged.

"Of course not." she huffed. "I am with Lys, remember? We do not have an open relationship." He lifted a sarcastic eyebrow and she pursed her lips, hastily tugging the sheet up so it would cover both their bodies and the proof of what had happened between them. "This does not count. It's you. You are the first boy I kissed."

"I am still mad I am not the first boy you fucked." he countered with a snort. "And how nice that I do not count…"

"You know what I mean." she insisted. "And you barely managed to aim anyway. Can we even say we had sex tonight?"

Seneca's lips twitched. "You came. I came. We are naked. I would definitely say we had sex. But if you doubt that, I am starting to understand why you are so confused about what is going on between you and Abernathy…"

"Nothing is going on between Haymitch and I." she snapped. "Now, let's go to sleep. I have to go to a fitting in the morning. I am walking for Davers next week."

And she would be glad to be back on a catwalk. She loved modeling. It was the least difficult aspect of her life. All she had to do was turn off her feelings and become a doll.

With a sigh, Seneca turned off the light. She settled on her side, not really surprised when he spooned her, his arm wrapping tight around her.

"I really loved him, you know." he confessed, sorrow and regret bleeding out of his voice.

"I know." she whispered. "I am sorry."

"I am sorry about you and Lys." he offered.

"Well, we are not done yet." she countered, aiming for cheerful but ultimately sounding bleak.

Because she knew that, no matter how in love with Lys she believed herself to be, the moment Haymitch staggered back into her life, she would… It had happened before. She would cheat on Lys. Because Haymitch had a way of making her forget she was in a committed relationship, because he made her blood boil like no one else, because…

"Until the Games start and you accidentally have sex with your victor again?" he challenged, unknowingly echoing her thoughts.

"We are not having sex." she reiterated even though he knew the lie for what it was.

He was silent for a while and she let herself drift off. His arm was still wrapped around her and she pretended it was a stronger one, heavier, one that would hold her possessively tight… One that would make her feel safe.

Seneca's embrace was comforting and she needed the comfort or she would never have ended up in bed with him in the first place.

Her relationship with Lys was slowly dying, she could see it happening, and perhaps the Games would be the mercy kill or perhaps it would happen before that but… Her heart still ached and Seneca was a safe place to crash for a while.

"You should be careful." he warned, his mouth warm against her shoulder, startling her a little because she thought he was asleep. "With Abernathy, I mean. Nobody really cares for now but if you keep it up, they are going to notice it is serious."

"It is not serious." she argued.

"Please." he scoffed. "I know you, sweetest."

And perhaps he did.

She would wager that of all her Capitol friends, Seneca was the most likely to see through her fake smiles and dazzling looks. And yet… Even he never seemed to be able to figure her out as completely as…

Her throat closed. "If anything were to happen, it would be purely physical."

"I heard he is hung like a horse." Seneca hummed, a teasing smile in his voice. She declined to comment but he wasn't so easily defeated. He nudged her leg with his knobby knee. "You know, if you were open to it, I would not mind sharing…"

She shut that down very quickly. "We are not having a threesome."

"Why not?" He chuckled. "The last one was fun."

The last one had been years ago, well before she became an escort, and while it had been fun, it had also been inconsequential. The very thought of sharing Haymitch…

"He is not interested in men." she retorted.

"Oh, sweetest… That is because he has not yet properly met me." he replied without an ounce of self-consciousness about his arrogance.

He could be very persuasive, though. She had seen him seduce people who had been a very, very long shot. They had made a game of it in their wilder youth.

"I do not think so." she dismissed. "And this is not a challenge. Do not go anywhere near him or I will be very cross."

"Fine." He half-sighed, half-laughed. "I suppose I will have to try my luck with Brutus, then. Maybe Val will be game too…"

She shook her head. "Or you could try patching things up with Marius instead of burying your feelings in meaningless sex."

He didn't immediately reply with a joke, which told her he was actually considering that advice seriously. In the end, he rolled away from her. When he spoke, his voice sounded a bit too vulnerable, too frail. Seneca, like her, was a master at keeping his composure in any circumstances. "I am afraid that ship has sailed, Effie."

Because there was no point patching things up only to get disowned in the process. Ambition was Seneca's driving force. He would never sacrifice it all for a lover, no matter how in love he was, and the truth of the matter was that he needed his father's influence if he wanted to achieve his goals. It was a sad torturous situation to be in and she was grateful yet again that, as difficult as her family was, they weren't cruel enough to ask her to suppress a whole part of her identity.

"You deserve better than this." she whispered sincerely.

"So do you, sweetest." Seneca sighed. "So do you…"

She wasn't certain she did but she still turned around to snuggle closer to him, hugging him for dear life.

She wouldn't say she trusted him with her life but she trusted him a lot more than she trusted anyone else save Haymitch. And he was her best friend.

She hated to see him hurting.

So it wasn't really hayffie, more of effie/seneca but I hope you liked it all the same. I just love exploring their friendship lately, I can't help it.

(Lys is a character I already used in another one shot so you may remember her as one of Plutarch's agents who shows up in Thirteen)