Prompt: May I prompt? The first time after the war (movie verse) that Effie gets to use all her beauty products again and being totally excited about it? And maybe she could drag Haymitch into a shower with her because he could need some flower shampoo, too? Could this work? And he'd love her hair even more after it got some conditioner and stuff. ;)

A Shower & A Date

Finding the right room in the Presidential Mansion took some time, the directions the soldiers kept giving her weren't much help and Effie's own past experience in the place had been limited to the more public rooms of the place.

The fact that she was looking for Haymitch's room instead of her own hadn't helped. Some of the rebels were still mistrustful of her, even after the terrible months she had spent wearing garbs and freezing her butt in their tomb of a District.

She didn't bother knocking.

Haymitch was already back, looking like he had aged ten years, slumped in an armchair, a glass full of an amber liquid in his hand. The decanter was open on the small table next to him, the big square crystal cap discarded on the side, next to a second empty glass.

"How is Katniss?" she asked immediately.

"She'll live." he shrugged. "How's the boy?"

"He will live." she echoed with a shrug of her own.

She pursed her lips, tilted her head, placed her hands on her hips and stared at the glass in his hand with glaring disapproval. He had suffered through hell to sever himself from alcohol. It was so stupid of him to just…

"Found your own poison." he grumbled, nodding at the bed. "Spare me the lecture."

Her irritation melted away when she caught sight of the things piled on the neatly made bed. There were a couple of dresses, a pair of bright blue heels, a few tubes of lipsticks, some creams, a half empty bottle of perfume, and a battered packet of cigarettes. She wasn't quite sure what she was most glad about.

"Should I inquire where you stole all of this?" she joked.

"Better not." he snorted. "Plausible deniability."

She brushed a tentative hand against the shimmering fabric of a purple dress, swallowing back the lump in her throat. It had been so long since she had last seen something so beautiful…

She wanted to put it on. She wanted to slip on the dresses and the heels, to apply some lipstick and some cream… She wanted to pretend she was getting ready for a huge party… She wanted to pretend nothing had changed…

She picked up a cigarette and placed it between her lips instead.

She didn't light it.

She didn't think she had the strength to fish the silver lighter Finnick had gifted her with for a birthday from her pocket…

She sat at the foot of the bed and she watched Haymitch drink his whiskey slowly, savoring it like she had rarely seen him savor liquor.

After his third, he poured himself a fourth, stood up, slightly unsteady on his feet, and walked toward her. He plucked the cigarette from her lips and handed her the glass.

Instead of sipping it like a proper lady would, she downed it in one go, barely feeling the burn of it down her throat. She made a face because she hated the taste and because it was never wise to drink on an empty stomach.

"What is going to happen now?" she asked. "What is next?"

For months it had been about winning the war. She was just starting to realize they had never talked about what would happen once the war was won.

They had never talked about the dead friends that would pave the way to victory either.

She still couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact that Finnick was…

"Now… I'm going to fuck your brain out." he declared, tugging on the headscarf. She let him. "And next… I'm probably going to fuck you some more."

She couldn't help but feel a thrill at his crudeness, playing along when he tangled his fingers in her hair and forced her head back so he could lean in and kiss her. A rough tumble between the sheets would be welcomed. Something to keep the edge away.

She placed a hand on his chest and drew back from the kiss though, biting down on her bottom lip.

"Shower first." she decided.

They hadn't changed clothes in days, since the Star Squad had gone AOWL. She felt like she was covered with grime – and given the state of the Capitol, she probably was.

He pouted at being denied but probably saw the wisdom of her idea because he reluctantly stepped back with a nod.

"You heard from your family?" he asked awkwardly, as she led the way to the adjoining bathroom. It was huge and luxurious, just like she expected a bathroom in the Presidential Mansion to be. There was a big tug and she almost filled it because a bath sounded heavenly but she wanted to be clean fast and not to lounge in dirty water.

"Not yet." she answered distractedly. "I have not looked. They will be angry with me. Today was difficult enough."

She had barely been able to keep her joyful mask on for Peeta's sake. The boy was confused and worried about the rest of his squad – not to mention Katniss – and she had been forced to tell him about Prim which… Well, it hadn't been pleasant.

"Victory." he mocked, as she quickly unlaced her boots and got rid of her jumpsuit. "You'd think it's more fun."

She didn't bother gratifying that with a reply.

She didn't bother shying away from his hungry gaze either once she was naked. A part of her still found it marvelous that he could desire her when she looked like she currently did – months in Thirteen hadn't been kind on her body: she was underfed, out of shape and not as well groomed as she would have liked.

He was still struggling with his own boots when she stepped in the shower, suddenly realizing she didn't need to hurry because her access to hot water would be unlimited. She almost started crying when she turned the tap and a warm stream rained down on her.

It smelt like wild flowers.

"Perfumed water." she chuckled. It felt stupid that she had forgotten about that. She had been so focused of making the most of her five minutes of hot water allotted per day that she had completely forgotten to be outraged at the fact water in Thirteen was plain water. She tapped on the console, adjusting the shower settings to her favorites. Some pop music started playing, the smell of wild flowers was replaced by lemon and the lights dimmed a bit.

She was home.

At last.

She was home, in a civilized country that realized showers – even guests shower – needed to be stocked. She inspected the bottles neatly lined in a gleaning metallic grail, already listing what she would need to find as soon as she could because her hair were in dire need of special care, her nails were in a sad state, and her skin could do with some peeling and hydrating.

She was laughing when she selected a chamomile shampoo and rubbed it in her hair, wriggling in time with the music, careful not to slip. It beat Thirteen's in and out showers.

Arms wrapped around her, putting an end to her dancing, a chest plastered itself to her back. Haymitch sighed in her ear when the hot water poured on him – not the lukewarm water they had been contending themselves with for months but blissfully hot.

"Fuck, that's good." he muttered, reaching for the console. He was more hesitant with his tapping but soon enough the smell of lemon was replaced with the more potent one of pine trees.

She tilted her head back, letting the water wash the shampoo from her hair.

"I am in heaven." she declared.

"I bet." he taunted. "You've got any shampoo in there that won't make me smell like I've slept with you?"

"I am very confident everyone has the same products in their room." she grinned, grabbing the chamomile shampoo bottle. "You could be sleeping with anyone."

"Yeah, sure." he chuckled. "It's not like we're a hot piece of gossip, right?"

He didn't protest when she worked the shampoo in his hair though. Even Haymitch could recognize some hygiene was welcomed now and then.

"Be fair." she grinned. "At this point, we are rather a frozen piece of gossip."

Everyone more or less knew they were lovers. Thirteen was a rumor mill. Aside for the children… She didn't think anyone had been fooled by their denials.

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" he mumbled.

She rolled her eyes and let him wash the shampoo off his hair for himself, preferring to dance to the familiar upbeat music instead.

"You're going to slip and bash your head open." he grumbled, wrapping his arms around her again, seemingly to make her stand still.

"I want a face mask." she hummed, almost bouncing in enthusiasm now that everything she had been forbidden in Thirteen was within reach. "And wax. Oh, I do need to find wax. Razors simply do not do the job. And make-up. I am going to hunt for some make-up first thing."

"Don't think so, Princess." he countered in her ear. "First thing, we have a hot date with the bed in the next room."

"Is that so?" she giggled, as he pressed a kiss against her neck.

"Very much so." he smirked back.

"Well…" she laughed. "I would hate to be rude and be late for that date…"

After all, now, they could have showers whenever they wanted…