Prompt: Your Christmas story portrayed Effie's childhood in a rather sad way with not much freedom and fun. Could you write something where Haymitch gives her another chance at being a child for a while with a funny activity or running barefoot or whatever in 12? That's my prompt !

A Slice Of Freedom

Effie smiled as her eyes roamed on the brand new playground near the Square. Bright painted slides, yellow swings, games shaped like cute animals and a huge merry-go-round… Children were laughing and screaming in joy, parents were either waiting on the benches or at the market on the Square… It was all very peaceful.

"I'm done, we can go." Haymitch grumbled, coming to a stop next to her, the messenger bag on his hip heavy with new bottles of liquor. She chose not to comment, adjusting her grip on the bags of grocery in her arms instead. He relieved her of them without her having to ask but his bow creased a little when he realized her eyes were lingering on the playground. "Feel your clock ticking?"

It was half a joke and half a wary question. He looked anxious as if he had been waiting for her to put the baby subject on the table any day.

She preferred to laugh it off, keeping her own regrets and yearnings for herself. She had known what she was signing for when she had moved in with him. She had known she was renouncing certain things forever. She had accepted it. She chose him. Every time she would choose him.

And it wasn't like she would have been able to get pregnant anyway. Not without a lot of treatments and medical care she didn't want to go through.

They had Katniss and Peeta. It was more than enough for her.

"Not at all." she grinned. "They all look so happy… I am just happy to see children look happy."

Haymitch's grey eyes fell on the playground, took everything in, and his face softened. It made everything worth it to see children unafraid of the future, playing and laughing instead of wondering if everyone they loved would still be alive the next day, dreaming of sweets and cakes instead of their next meal…

"Kids will be kids." he shrugged, starting on the path that would take them home. "Let them play and they're happy. Remember what it was like." She tried for a moment but eventually pursed her lips. Of course, he didn't miss it. "What?"

"Nothing." she was quick to answer. "I just don't… I played with my dolls a lot until Mother declared I had outgrown them. I had a lot of pretend tea parties but it had to be done just right."

"Bet it was." he snorted. "Had a lot of fun bossing your dolls around?"

She looked down at her feet because the ground was uneven and if she had perfected the art of walking around in heels in the dirt, a fall was never a far stretched possibility in this District. She also looked down because she was debating between sharing more and closing off. They hardly ever exchanged childhood tales. His family was out of bonds and hers was… complicated.

"I mean it was more a sort of… training." she hesitated. "If Mother had come up and caught me doing something wrong when I was hosting – even dolls… It had to be perfect."

She could feel him staring but she kept her eyes cast down.

"So… Not fun." he prompted.

"Oh, it was…" she protested. "In a way. Lyssa played with me sometimes but she always wanted to be the hostess and she always did it so well I was jealous." She laughed – her fake laugh, it was a reflex, an automatic mechanism to hide her uneasiness and she didn't need to look to know he had seen straight through it. "I liked playing with my dolls though. I would match their clothes to mine like Mother did with Lyssa and I… I scolded them when they didn't behave like ladies. It was all…" Very pathetic probably, she thought "… very droll. Why I remember once I tried to style one of my dolls' hair to be just like mine… Mother got into such a rage because I destroyed that poor doll's hairstyle… I always got in trouble. I tried to be good but I was a bit of mischief-maker, I am afraid."

She flashed a teasing smile at him but he didn't smirk back. He was watching her.

"Why did she scream at you? A doll's a toy. Meant to play with, right?" he frowned.

"It was an expensive china doll." she explained. "China dolls can be changed and used for tea parties but you shouldn't… You shouldn't touch their hair or damage them. Little girls should always be careful with their toys, Haymitch."

He rolled his eyes. "That's such bullshit. What else did you do when you were a kid? Can't have been playing tea parties all day. What did you do with your friends?"

"Oh, play dates!" she exclaimed, her smile becoming fonder. "Well, we did have tea parties – real ones. And we played pretend. We pretended we were getting married a lot, we imagined our wedding dresses and our future husbands…"

"But games." he insisted. "Like… I don't know… Hide and seek or playing tag…"

She wrinkled her nose. "We weren't allowed to play those. Ladies don't raise their voices or act undignified, Lyssa and I knew better."

"You're saying you never ran around for the sake of it." he scoffed, as they passed the tall iron gates that marked the entrance to the Village.

"Of course I ran. On a treadmill. Every day as soon as I hit thirteen." she countered defensively. She quickly amended that statement though. "But I will admit it had more to do with me being chubby rather than for the love of it."

"I'm not talking jogging." he scowled. "I'm talking being a kid. Run around, do silly stuff, climb trees…"

"Can you picture me climbing trees?" she deadpanned, happy to see their house looming in the distance. She couldn't wait to put the groceries away and make herself some tea.

"Point taken." he chuckled. "But… You've got all this fancy stuff in the city… You must have done something more fun than fucking tea parties and pretend."

"I took ballet classes and riding lessons." she hummed. "Both help tremendously with one's posture."

"Yeah, and I bet it helped shove that stick up your posh ass." he muttered. She shot him a dark look and unlocked their front door. She stepped aside to let him go to the kitchen, taking off her coat, woolen gloves and scarf, picking up his and putting them away when he discarded them in the kitchen. He wasn't done though. "I've seen kids playing around in the Capitol. They played. Ran, laughed… The whole normal package."

"Some parents let their children run wild." she commented, opening cupboards and putting away what he took out of the grocery bags and handed her. "Mother would have had a heart attack if one of us had misbehaved in public."

"So what you're saying is…" he frowned. "You never did anything fun as a kid."

"I had fun." she protested. "Not everything has to be wild to be fun."

"Have you ever been on a swing?" he asked.

She paused, a bunch of carrots in her hand, and turned to him, shaking her head in disapprobation. "Haymitch, do you know what happens when a girl gets on a swing? Her skirt flies everywhere and she shows off her panties. How improper and inappropriate and undignified. Do you truly think Mother would have allowed us to behave like tramps to be?"

He stared at her, crossing his arms in front of his chest and resting his hip against the counter. "Do you actually believe that bullshit, sweetheart?"

She licked her lips and chose to put away the carrots. "I suppose you were allowed to run wild."

"Yeah." he smirked. "I was allowed to be a kid. As much as you could be a kid around here at that time anyway." A dark cloud passed on his face but he shrugged. "Had fun though. Climbed trees, kicked balls, ran until I couldn't catch my breath… I did it all. We didn't have much but we made it work."

She smiled at him with fondness. It wasn't hard at all to imagine a little Haymitch up to all sorts of mischief. "It sounds like good memories."

He took two mugs out of the cupboard distractedly, filling the kettle and putting it to boil. "I did lot of stupid stuff. I ran across the main beam in the Gregson's barn one night."

"Why in Panem would you do something so idiotic?" she gasped. "You could have broken your neck!"

"Almost did." he admitted. "Lucky there were heaps of hay below."

"Why did you did it in the first place?" she insisted. "I fail to see where the fun is."

"'Cause Hayden had dared me." he said quietly, his jaw clenched. He reached for the bag with the newly purchase bottles and unclasped one with jerky movements.

Effie held her breath. She could count on one hand the number of times he had pronounced his brother's name in front of her.

She took over preparing their tea, forcing herself to act as if everything was normal. A wrong move would send him running, she knew.

"Did you play dare a lot?" she hummed. "I played truth or dare a lot in my teenage years. But the dares were never that extreme."

"Popular game." he shrugged, relaxing a little. "It was mostly stupid things like tossing buckets of water at people or kissing girls… Hayden was still a kid. He liked to put me on the spot. And a dare's a dare, sweetheart."

"Really?" she grinned. "In that case, perhaps I should dare you to kiss me." He smirked but humored her by planting a kiss on her cheek. She pouted. "That was not exactly what I had in mind."

"No?" he teased. "What did you have in mind?"

"Catch me and find out." she challenged, feeling silly.

She tried to run away but he had her trapped in his arms before she even reached the table. The kiss took her breath away and she tangled her fingers in his hair, wanting more. They stumbled back against the kitchen table, knocking it off a little. Clothes were hastily torn off, hands roamed frantically over skin… She liked that the passion wasn't dead yet, that they still starved for each other's body, that a simple touch could light them on fire… Haymitch didn't even stop kissing her when he lifted her up so she could sit on the table, she immediately wrapped her legs around him. The height wasn't right though and he groaned in annoyance. The counter would be better but it was too far, she wanted him now. She nudged him back enough to hop back down and turn around, bracing herself on the flat surface. They made that work well enough.

The kettle blew steam before they were done and there was no more water when he finally turned the stove off. They chuckled like idiots and went back to kissing. He scooped her up – which suited her just fine because her legs were like jelly – and carried her to the couch where they both collapsed.

The fire had died down a little but it was still warm enough inside. She grabbed the blanket thrown over the back of the couch and tossed it over their naked bodies. She loved this, she mused, drawing random patterns on his chest, sometimes pressing a kiss against his skin. Being carefree, not a worry in the world because their victors were safe, not a threat hanging over their head, alone and together and happy… She had never thought they would have this: cuddling on their couch after sex, legs tangled together, his hand petting her hair, teabags abandoned in mugs in their kitchen because they had been too busy screwing to take the kettle off the stove…

"I love you." she hummed.

He tensed, like he always did, but soon relaxed, now used to hearing her profess her feelings at random. The war was far behind, peace was slowly healing their wounds. He dropped a kiss on her head and tightened his embrace.

She didn't realize she was falling asleep until she woke up alone and still naked on the couch. The blanket was carefully wrapped around her though and the fire had been stocked. She didn't have the luxury of taking her time to get her bearings because Haymitch appeared, back in his clothes, and tossed her dress and underwear on her lap.

"Get dressed." he smirked. "I have something for you."

"Something for me?" she repeated, frowning.

"It's a surprise, Princess." he declared.

His grey eyes were sparkling with mischief and she was so happy to see him happy she didn't even question him further. She trusted him so much anyway she would have followed him to the end of the world without so much as a blink. She got dressed quickly but before she could walk to the mirror to check her appearance, he grabbed her hand and dragged her to the backyard.

"What in Panem…" she started only to fall silent when she spotted what had him preening like a peacock. There was an old tire hanging from one of the tree's branch. It was obviously a makeshift swing.

"Come on." he urged her. "Sit."

"Are you sure it's safe?" she frowned.

He waved that away impatiently. "Held my weight. Should hold yours just fine. Sit."

She did – warily and with the distinct feeling of doing something forbidden. She grabbed the ropes on either side of her in her hands and gave a little push. The tire swayed gently and she grinned at him. "Thank you."

"That's not how you use a swing, sweetheart." he protested, walking behind her.

"Haymitch, no! Don't!" She tried to stop him but it was too late. He was pushing her hard and soon she was flying. She expected to be scared but instead of a scream, it was laughter that burst out of her chest. "Harder!" she demanded.

"Yeah, I know that tune." he taunted, humoring her by pushing her higher.

She didn't even chide him for the innuendo.

She didn't care about what her mother would have had to say if she had seen her – if it had been forbidden in her childhood, she suspected she would have had had things to say about a grown woman playing like a child – she didn't care that her dress was flying around her and her panties were on display…

She was free.