Prompt: Hello! so i was thinking , i enjoy your one shots where either effie or haymitch are jealous but in denial so how about a one shot where one of them actually admitc to the other that they are jealous since they never do tht and tht would be cute and fluffy and yay , Thank you if you do do this

AND

okay so I'm asking this prompt: a very jealous!effie in post mockingjay, maybe with hazel in it bc ugh i can't stand her. it would be a great birthday present! (my bday is on 3rd February)

Clearly, I missed the birthday but… it can be a belated thing ;) (although poor Hazelle what did she do to deserve this… )

What Mature Adults Do

Effie Trinket didn't cause scenes.

For one, it was unseemly.

For another, her mother would have torn her wig off her head if Effie had been so rude.

Even in this tomb of a District where manners and education came second to military supervision and dictatorship. They could talk about democracy all they wanted, Effie had been in Thirteen long enough to recognize tyranny in disguise. But she held her tongue and kept a low profile like Haymitch had requested she did because she trusted him when he said her political refugee status would only take her so far. So she mostly kept to herself, focused on Katniss, and tried not to ruffle too many feathers.

Which was exactly why she shouldn't go around causing scenes.

Which was why she was sitting in the dining hall with her legs crossed, stirring a tea with too much water and not enough sugar that had long grown cold, her allotted amount of food for breakfast already gone, staring at Twelve's refugees sharing their own breakfast at the next table. She was staring, almost unblinking, and she was reminding herself that ladies didn't start fights – although, as she and her sister had often pointed out once their mother was out of earshot, they could certainly finish them.

Haymitch had either not seen her when he had come in or had ignored her. Given that he had been slightly aloof since they had locked him in a withdrawal cell, she was leaning toward the former rather than the latter. He often sought her out and he slept in her room most nights without apparently caring who saw him coming and going from her compartment. They hadn't gone public by any means but… She had a feeling they were inching toward it.

She didn't think he had ignored her on purpose. Prim had waved him over and he had gone straight there without looking around like the idiot he could be when he was running on too little sleep and not enough food. Besides, Effie had become very good at going unnoticed in Thirteen. She was sitting alone at the table in the corner, her awful grey jumpsuit on and her blond hair pinned up in a braided bun as fancy as she had managed. She was blending in. No more colors. She missed the colors.

She hadn't truly minded at first, telling herself she would simply catch up with him later and that he deserved some time with his friends – and she didn't kid herself into thinking she could simply join him, she had been very careful to keep out of Twelve's refugees' way.

She had watched instead.

She had watched Prim greet him with a smile, she had watched his housekeeper forcing her handful of children to move down the bench to make room for him next to her, she had watched the way her little girl had jumped in excitement and had tossed herself from the bench right into his arms… She had smiled when he had caught her, barely managing not to knock out his tray… He had grumbled something, probably a rebuke of some kind, but it had fallen on deaf ears when the girl had buried her face in his neck and it had been… cute.

It was after that Effie had started fantasizing about storming over there and claiming him for everyone to see. The girl – Posy, she thought – was clingy but Haymitch seemed to be used to that. He kept the kid on his knees while he ate, half smirking at her loud prattling. Then the boys had started bickering and he had ordered them to break it off – and they had. And then the housekeeper had started talking and soon they had been laughing and she had kept resting her hand on his arm or on his shoulder, her body angled in such a way that Effie was positive she was flirting… And Haymitch was smirking and clearly answering that flirting with some of his own and it made her… furious.

So she kept stirring her cold tea and watched.

They were playing house and Haymitch didn't even seem to feel out of place. She wondered if that was what he had wished for once: a big normal family. Kids who would never be sent to an arena and a nice District woman to joke with over breakfast.

It made her stomach churn in unpleasant ways.

There were things she could never give. The pretty picture at the next table was one of them. Having one child and carrying it to term would be difficult for her – doctors had been hammering it into her head since her early adulthood – having more than one was highly improbable and she wasn't sure she would have wanted to anyway. They had lost so many children along the years already… And they had Katniss and Peeta now – or at least, she hoped they still had Peeta, that they would get him back – they felt as much hers, theirs, as any biological children would. She would never be the perfect District woman either, she would never share the same values and understand what he had been through growing up…

When the housekeeper reached for his hand, she downed her cold tea and stood up. She saw, from the corner of her eyes, the way he immediately untangled his fingers from the woman's and she also saw his gaze turning to her, probably attracted by the sudden movement. She didn't wait to see what he would do. She grabbed her empty tray and casually walked to the exit, confident, a spring in her step, a beaming smile on her lips… Chin up, eyes bright, smile on. Pretty and dumb. Nobody ever asked question to pretty but dumb women. Pretty and dumb women were left alone.

She went straight to the room Plutarch had requisitioned as his office and she started putting some order in the files and schedules like a good assistant would. It stung to be demoted from escort to assistant but she did what she had to do to survive in this place. She was keeping a low profile and staying out of the way. The rules were different but it was always the same game: please the power that be if you wanted to stay alive.

It was half an hour before she heard the heavy footsteps. She wished they would go on past the door all the way to Command but no such luck, they stopped on the threshold. She didn't raise her head. She kept on staring at possible speeches for Katniss, sitting behind the desk, correcting sentences and phrasing with a pencil so short she could barely hold it – nothing was ever wasted in Thirteen.

"Plutarch is with President Coin." she stated.

"What's up with you?" Haymitch asked, stepping in and sliding the door close behind him.

She wished he hadn't.

"I am working." she replied tersely.

"You're sulking." he scoffed. "You think I can't tell when you're giving me the stink eye from across the room?"

She turned the page and crossed out a word so violently the pencil's lead broke. With an annoyed click of her tongue, she fished in the drawer for the pencil sharpener. She focused on the task at hand and ignored him, hoping he would get the hint and leave.

"I didn't see you or I would have sat with you." he grumbled. "You're going to be a bitch 'cause I didn't see you? Should just have said you were there, sweetheart…"

"I am not angry because you didn't see with me." she huffed. "I am a grown woman I can eat meals on my own."

Well… There was still something painful about sitting alone in the dining hall. She had never sat at an empty table before. She was queen of the bees not… the sort who sat alone. But she was learning. New rules to the game, that was all. She could learn. She could adapt. She could pretend.

"Yeah?" he mocked. "Since when?"

She spared him a glare before looking back down at the pencil and the sharpener. She didn't want to have to go to supplies and request a new pencil. Last time she had been forced to go and request more papers they had given her a loathing judging look and she had just known they were thinking Capitols were a waste of resources…

"How is your friend?" she asked in a sweet cheerful voice.

He saw the trap, of course, but he had never been one to avoid confrontations so he went straight for it.

"What friend?" he retorted, defensive. "What are you on about now?"

"It was such a lovely little scene…" she hummed, her voice still sounding bubbly and uncaring. "You and her and the children… So adorable. Cozy, almost." She let out a few chuckles. "And she is very pretty. Well… If you like the District style, of course, but I know you do like the District style."

"What's this?" he frowned. "You're pulling a jealous act on me?" She placed the tools down carefully and looked up at him, a pleasant smile on her lips. He hated it when she did that: put on the escort mask for him. He rolled his eyes. "Cut the crap. If you're jealous, say so."

It was a challenge she would usually have declined. She would have lied through her teeth, push him against the nearest wall and have her way with him just to prove a point. Her pride came first, always. They didn't have a relationship, they had an agreement and that agreement didn't take jealousy into account.

But she was tired of this particular game.

She was tired of pretending she didn't care when women hit on him or flirted with him or took his hand.

"Very well." she replied, deadly calm. "I am jealous."

It sounded ridiculous said out loud like that. He was taken aback, it was plain to see, having expected denials and a shouting match rather than this cold statement.

"Stupid." he said, after clearing his throat. "Hazelle's just a friend."

"A friend who wants you to play father to her children and who would gladly take you to bed." she growled. "The way she looks at you is anything but friendly, Haymitch."

He opened and closed his mouth. "It's not like that."

"Isn't it?" she hissed.

"No." he sneered. "She's my friend, you're my… whatever. I don't care who wants what, I'm clear on who I want. You've got nothing to be jealous about here. End of the story."

She studied him for a few seconds, lips pursed, still irritated by the display at breakfast but pacified by this little speech. For Haymitch, this was as good as it got.

"Alright then." she granted, picking up the pencil and its sharpener.

"I said you've got nothing to worry about." he grumbled. "What else do you want? Do I have to spell it out for you? I'm not interested in anyone else. Stop fucking sulking already. Looks ugly on you."

She chose to ignore that last gibe.

"I heard." she said, looking up at him again. "I believe you. We are… fine."

He stared at her, looking a bit confused and puzzled. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the desk a little. "Did we just settle a fight without shouting?"

She blinked and then flashed him a small – genuine – smile. "I believe we did."

He made a face. "I don't like it, sweetheart."

"Why am I not surprised?" she taunted. "Acting like mature adults… Indeed, what a shame."

He stepped around the desk to get to her side and pushed her chair back until he could sneak between her and the desk.

"When we shout, we have sex." he sulked. "I like that better."

An amused smile played on her lips and she trailed her hand up and down his thigh before taking it away with a pout of her own. "Well.. I like it better when other women don't hold your hand over the breakfast table."

"I said…" he growled.

"I know what you said. It doesn't erase what I saw." she cut him off. "Truly, I should force you to make it up to me. How lucky you are that those jumpsuits are impractical to remove… Otherwise, I would have you on your knees between my legs right now."

"Effie." he warned, his voice rough like always when he was aroused. "Don't tease."

She stood up slowly, lamenting the absence of heels. She liked being the same height as he was when they were playing this game. She didn't come across as as powerful when she barely reached his chin. She pushed on his chest until he surrendered and sat on the edge of the desk. Then they were the same height and she could peck his lips.

"Who's teasing?" she whispered, ignoring the hand that fisted the fabric of her jumpsuit at her waist and the one shamefully kneading her backside. "I am just stating a fact. If this uniform wasn't so constrictive, I would have had you going down on me before I forgave you. Unfortunately… These uniforms are what they are… These are facts. Is that teasing, darling?"

He licked his lips and lifted an eyebrow, almost challenging. "I'm not wearing a jumpsuit."

And he wasn't. He was wearing grey pants and a grey long-sleeved undershirt under the grey shirt and she should have perhaps chosen that over the suit that morning but the pants they had given her didn't fit her as well as the jumpsuit did and she hated walking around with baggy fabrics that made her look fat.

"And?" she purred, taking pain to sound a little bored.

He impatiently squeezed her ass. "And I've got time for a quickie."

"Lucky you." she grinned. "I don't. I have work to do. Plus, you are the one with something to atone for, not me. It seems a bit unfair that I would reward your atrocious behavior with a treat."

"I'm not a dog, you don't reward me." he growled, switching them around so she was the one pinned to the desk. He lifted her by the hips and sat her down on the surface. She spared a thought for the crumpled speeches under her butt and figured she was doomed to go to supplies anyway. His kiss was brutal but she answered in kind, not really surprised when he popped her buttons off enough that he could sneak a hand inside her jumpsuit and cup her breast. "I want you." It was mumbled against her lips.

She resisted his slight push to lie down.

"Do you want Plutarch to find me naked on his deck?" she teased. "Because that is likely to happen if you continue this way."

"Who cares?" he grumbled. "He'll see we're busy and he'll come back."

"Oh, so you truly do not care that Plutarch and whatever minion soldier is trailing after him today will see me naked? Completely on display?" she insisted. "That would not make you a little bit jealous?"

His jaw clenched and he rolled his eyes, taking his hand out of her jumpsuit. "Point taken, sweetheart."

"Good." she commented, leaning in to steal a kiss. "I knew you were a sensible man."

"Tonight." he warned, walking backward.

"Tonight." she promised with a softer smile.