Ok in my hc and main default verse, Effie's grandfather (who pops out in several of my os) died when she was twelve buuuuuut I was dying for a meeting between Timotheo and Haymitch so here is an AU of my default verse in which this happens.

You don't need to have read any os featuring Timotheo to understand this one though, it can stand alone.

What She Loves Best

Haymitch waited until the second day of the Quell to sneak in her shower. She startled when he opened the door and stepped behind her under the scalding water but she soon relaxed against his chest, tilting her head back and running her hands over her face to clear it of water.

"You are up early this morning." she hummed.

"Sponsor meeting in an hour." he muttered, tapping on the shower commands. He fumbled a little with it because he always set it on the simplest settings and never bothered to learn how to actually use it but before long he found what he wanted and loud pop music boomed in the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" she frowned. "You hate this…"

He shut her up with a kiss, trapping her against the slippery tiles of the wall. Her giggle was high-pitched and her moans were loud – he knew just how to make her do those sounds. Once he was certain whoever was listening to the bugs would think they were just fooling around, he stopped touching her and rested both hands on either side of her head against the wall. She looked up at him, confused, her gaze clouded.

"We need to talk." he murmured. "Low. Get it?"

The music was almost covering his voice and she nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck so they could speak right against each other's ear. Good call, he thought.

"Is it Katniss or Peeta?" she asked.

"In a way." he sighed. "Look… I didn't tell you before 'cause… It's dangerous, okay?"

"Anything to help them." she said immediately.

So stupidly selfless… He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against her shoulder for a moment. "Sweetheart, we're leaving. Tomorrow. Plutarch will send someone for you."

"Leaving?" she repeated. "Leaving for where?"

"You can't know too much." he countered. "They're already not happy about me bringing you…"

"There is a rebellion, isn't there?" she breathed out, half terrified and half excited. "There is a rebel movement."

He should have known she would figure that much out. "Yeah. And I'm not leaving you behind for the Capitol to catch you. I'm not asking you, you get it? I'm telling you. You're leaving. You'll get there before me. I got you immunity. You tell that to everyone who tries anything fishy. You tell them you're on my list and there'll be hell to pay if anyone touches you. The kids will need you once we're there."

"You will rescue them, then?" she asked. "Both of them?"

"All of them, if everything goes right." he promised.

She slumped against him, obviously relieved. Relief didn't last long though, her nails dug in the flesh of his shoulders. "Haymitch, I can't leave."

"Already forgot the part where I said I wasn't asking?" he scoffed.

"Haymitch, my family…" she argued.

"They're loyalists." he retorted. "They'll be safer here, trust me."

He assumed they were loyalists at least. He had crossed paths with them a few times and they had always looked like the typical Capitol citizens to him. Shallow, stupid and nasty.

"Not my grandfather." She shook her head and then pressed their foreheads together. "He says things… I warned him so many times… He's old and not a threat but if I disappear they will assume… I can't leave him. I can't."

Grandfather…

"How come it's the first time I hear about a grandfather?" he frowned. "You never…"

"I keep what I love secret." she cut him off. "Don't you know yet?"

The way she was looking at him told him they weren't talking about her grandfather anymore and he swallowed the questions he wanted to ask. "I'll see what I can do. Maybe invite him over to your place tomorrow."

Plutarch would kill him but there was no time to argue more and he wasn't leaving her behind.

He didn't see her again.

There was no time and no opportunity. He had to trust Plutarch's men would get her out.

Katniss went ahead of schedule, the arena exploded, everything went from bad to worse and then he was told Twelve got bombed.

He didn't know how long had passed when he was finally released from Command and was allowed to go find her. Thirteen's corridors were a maze and it took him almost half an hour and a map to get to her compartment.

He didn't bother knocking, he slid the door open and stepped in like he had done a million times in the penthouse.

"Haymitch!" she exclaimed, bolting from the chair she was sitting on. He barely recognized her ensconced in the grey uniform, her blond hair tumbling freely on her shoulders. In three steps she was on him, her arms locked around his neck. He hugged back for dear life, pressing his face against her shoulder. Her smell was off but the faint traces of her perfume were still there. "I was so scared!" she breathed out. "They wouldn't tell me anything. I heard something had gone wrong but they wouldn't explain. They parked us here and took away our clothes and my wig… They wouldn't tell us anything! I thought… I thought…"

"I'm fine." he mumbled. "We got Katniss, Finnick and Beetee out. We couldn't get to Peeta and Johanna. Chaff's dead. Twelve got bombed. Please, don't start shouting, sweetheart, I've got a headache and they're going to throw me in a rehab cell as soon as I get out of here."

To her credit, she took it in stride. She drew back enough to frame his face in her hands, pain and confusion flashing in her eyes. "They will rescue them, yes? Peeta and Johanna. They will rescue them."

He closed his eyes and let his head drop forward until their foreheads were pressed together. He couldn't – wouldn't – lie to her.

"They've got Katniss." he mumbled. "They don't care about the rest. I thought… I thought I could save them all, Effie. I thought…"

"We will." she cut him off firmly. "We will. I don't care if I have to raid the Capitol, we will find them."

"You need to go see Finnick." he sighed. "They've got Annie. He's not…" He straightened and shook his head. "I won't be able to do anything for a while. They're going to dry me out… You need to keep on top of things. Don't let Plutarch use our kids to…"

He stopped abruptly when he realized they hadn't been as alone as he had thought. The old man was so still Haymitch hadn't even noticed him. He must have been in his late eighties at least but he was standing tall and proud, if looking a little pale in the grey uniform. He was standing near the sleeping area which was probably why Haymitch hadn't seen him at once.

Effie followed his gaze and promptly stepped back from his embrace, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, blushing a little.

"How rude of me!" she laughed in her fake escort voice. "Grandfather, this is Haymitch Abernathy as you surely already know. And, Haymitch, this is my grandfather, Timotheo Alderman."

The man was watching him, his face blank and Haymitch remained rooted to the spot, not sure if he ought to offer his hand to shake or not. He didn't play nice with Capitols as a rule but this man was clearly important to Effie and… And what?, a little voice asked at the back of his mind, Since when do I care about Trinket's family liking me?

"Please, do be friends." Effie winced, reaching out a hand to the man. "Grandfather?" The man studied him in silence a second longer before clasping the hand she was outstretching and stepping forward. He needed her help to walk, he realized. He glanced at his escort who pursed her lips. "They took his walking stick away. They said something about weapons but, truly…"

"I'll see that you get it back." he shrugged, before clearing his throat, uncomfortable with the scrutinizing way the guy was watching him. "I should go."

"I've heard a lot about you." Timotheo said, his voice clear if a little shaky. "Yet you are not quite what I expected you to be."

"Yeah, well…" he snorted. "Capitols tend to have a lot of ideas about the lot of us, don't they?"

"Haymitch, don't." Effie snapped.

"It's alright, my little princess." her grandfather smiled. "I didn't say I was disappointed."

Haymitch lifted his eyebrows at the nickname, watching her pointedly but she rolled her eyes. "Don't even think about commenting."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Princess." he teased. His amusement quickly faded though. "I really need to go. You'll come see me, yeah?"

He didn't even care if he sounded a bit insecure or apprehensive. They were going to dry him out and he was terrified. The mere idea made him want to run for the closest exit.

"Of course." she promised. "And I will take care of the children. Don't you worry."

He wanted to kiss her goodbye but with the man standing there, staring at him, he didn't dare.

He spent the following weeks regretting it, thrashing on a bed he was strapped to and thinking he was going to die any minute. He couldn't tell what was real and what he was hallucinating. It was torture. Pure and simple torture. Painful.

They kept him in there for a month. Even when he started to get better… They wouldn't let him go. Effie came to see him every day and reported to him appraised of what was going on but they tended to keep her out of the loop. Hazelle stopped by sometimes. Plutarch and Finnick too…

It wasn't until Katniss accepted to play the Mockingjay that they let him out.

And then everything went too quickly for him to really have any free time.

He and Effie stole kisses sometimes when they could get away with it but that was the extent of it. He couldn't very well spend the night in her compartment with her grandfather there and she couldn't come to his because he was sharing with Plutarch and the Gamemaker kept the same hours he did.

It didn't contribute to make his temper any less sour.

He didn't see Timotheo again until Katniss was sent to Twelve to film a propo with Gale. For once he managed to get lunch at a normal hour and he quickly decided that it might not be such a good thing when he saw how packed the dining hall was.

He spotted his escort's grandfather eating alone at a deserted table. There were no other free spaces and no one else he could have sat with. He made his way there warily and set down his tray without asking for permission. Timotheo looked up at him and then back at his plate. He was trying to cut down his vegetables but his hands were shaking and it clearly took a great deal of focus to keep them steady.

Haymitch figured they had that in common – that and maybe Effie.

"Where's your granddaughter?" he asked, looking around, expecting her to pop up. She loved spending time with Timotheo, he had understood very fast. Every time she had talked about her family before it had been in a suffering tone, as if spending time with them was a chore, but it was different with her grandfather. She sounded happy when she mentioned him.

"Working, I believe." the man answered.

"Ah." was all Haymitch found to say, realizing his mistake. There would be no Effie to play buffer then. He refused to let that disturb him. It wasn't like he cared what her family thought of him. He picked up his fork and stabbed a few green beans, not even trying to use the knife. There was a reason he hadn't tried to keep the beard under control, the tremors in his hands were bad lately.

"Life is a funny thing, you know." Timotheo told him, looking nonplussed if a little amused, as he went on with his meal. "I remember buying two golden tickets for your Victory Tour events against my daughter's wishes. Euphemia begged me for them."

"Yeah, well… She had had a crush on me since forever." he snorted.

A few years earlier, he would have said it was pathetic. Now he thought it was somehow… cute. And he wouldn't voice that. Ever.

"Oh, it wasn't a crush, no…" the man chuckled. "She wanted to marry you. She thought you were the love of her life. I suspect she still thinks that."

Haymitch froze, the fork halfway to his open mouth. He had no doubt Effie would have scolded him until the next day. He slowly put it down and cleared his throat. "Look, I don't know what you think is going on…"

"I know what is going on. I am neither blind nor yet senile." Timotheo countered. "I know she loves you to the point she left everything and everyone behind to follow you. My Euphemia is practical. She wouldn't take this sort of rash decisions if she wasn't in over her head." The Capitol calmly took a sip of water and placed the glass down before staring at Haymitch with an unblinking gaze. "What I would like to know are your intentions. I do not think you are toying with her but if you are…"

"You'll what?" he scoffed. "Bash my head in with your walking stick?"

Effie's grandfather wrinkled his nose. "I do not like violence, Mr Abernathy."

"Haymitch." he mumbled. "Nobody calls me that."

"Haymitch." Timotheo repeated. "I remember your Games well."

"Everyone remembers my Games." he sneered. "So what? I killed people. You're going to tell me she deserves better than a killer? I know that. She knows that. We're both very clear on the sort of man I am."

"I was going to say you are a smart man." the Capitol frowned. "What you did to ensure your survival… Well… As I said, I do not like violence. And I never liked the Games. I am old enough to remember a life before them." He shrugged. "I am also old enough to understand sixteen is too young to die and you would do anything to live. I don't blame you for that. The drinking now, the brawls, how unhappy you made Effie at times…"

Haymitch didn't know what Effie had told him. Not everything, certainly. He couldn't imagine her telling her grandfather hey, I'm Haymitch Abernathy's fuck buddy… But there were things he might have picked up upon, he figured. And there was no really hiding what they were now. It was an open secret in Thirteen, the gossip everyone shared when they were bored. Abernathy and his escort…

"I am who I am." he said around a mouthful of green beans.

"Do you love her?" Timotheo asked.

Haymitch almost choked on his food. It took him several minutes to recover. "You're serious?"

The Capitol pursed his lips tight and Haymitch was starting to get where she had inherited that pout from. "You have to understand… My daughter and my other grandchild may be lost to me now. Effie is all I have left. And regardless of that I would still want to make sure because I love her and her happiness is paramount to me. I won't live forever, Haymitch. I want to be sure there is someone here to take care of her."

Haymitch searched the old man's eyes and saw no treachery in there. He didn't even think Timotheo cared about the District part.

"I'll take care of her." he promised, looking down at his tray. "I'll probably made a mess of it but… I'll keep her safe. I'll try at least."

"She's a gentle soul underneath the veneer." Timotheo insisted. "Her mother… Her mother did her best to crush everything genuine about her but she failed. Effie is a gentle soul, Haymitch."

"I know." he agreed. "But she's also fierce and strong. Look, when I say I'll keep her safe, I mean it, but thing is… She can do that by herself. She keeps me out of trouble more often than not. She doesn't need me."

"Oh, I think she does…" the Capitol argued. "And I think you need her too."

"Won't lie." he snorted. "You're less… Capitol than I thought you would be."

"Not everyone in the Capitol is shallow." Timotheo retorted. "And truth be told, I do not really care about what you did before or where you come from. I only care about how you treat my granddaughter. Effie keeps what she loves secret, do you know? That is the only way she found to keep her mother from picking on it. In the years she had been working with you, she never once mentioned you. That is how I know she does love you. It's in her silence."

He shuffled on his chair, uncomfortable with this word being tossed around so easily. "She never talked about you either."

"Well, it seems we are even, then." Timotheo smiled. "We will have to learn how to get along. Tell me… Do you like chess? Effie is hopeless at it and I can't find a worthy opponent."

"Yeah, I do." Haymitch offered tentatively.

He was relieved to spot his escort walking in the dining hall with Plutarch, he waved them over and it didn't take long for them to join. The Gamemaker must have been acquainted with Timotheo because the two of them immediately launched in a conversation.

Effie held out for exactly one minute before nudging Haymitch under the table with her leg, keeping her voice low. "What were you talking about?"

"You wanting to marry me when you were a kid." he smirked.

"Oh dear." she winced. "He is old. He doesn't know what he is saying."

"Sure." he humored her, looking back at his plate. "I like him."

"That is good to know." she grinned. "Because he is my favorite person in the world."

"Thought that was me?" he frowned.

"You come second." she retorted.

He mulled that over a moment and then shrugged. "Fair enough."