Prompt: hey there :) i started re-reading some of HaDS-chapters (they're just sooo good) and came across no. 15 where Haymitch almost strangels Effie when they were arguing and then tells her to stay away 'cause he could kill her but she says that he'd never do that to her. so, with the 629 chapters already i can't properly remember if you'd already done that but if not, could you maybe write one where Effie first realizes that Haymitch would never hurt her / always protect her, pretty please?

A Team And What It Means

"That's a disaster waiting to happen." Chaff remarked.

Haymitch groaned in agreement and Effie curiously followed their gazes. The City Circle was packed, just like it always was during the Parade, but the VIP section seemed even more crowded than usual that year. Perhaps because it was so hot and the majority of the rows of seats were right under the unforgiving sun so most people had taken to waiting on the ground, in the relative shade, for the ceremony to be just about to start to take their place.

She had been the one to suggest they did the same. Haymitch would have been happier far from the crowded area – he had only stopped complaining about her being fussy when Chaff had showed up, apparently no more eager than she was to risk getting sunburned. She would have been happy to be rid of both victors since they seemed to find nothing more entertaining than making fun of her but Effie was determined not to let them rile her up. She wouldn't be driven to quit like Haymitch's previous escorts – and she would certainly not fall for his false charming attempts at seduction, she would not be shamed into quitting either during a humiliating morning after – she had lasted two years so far and she would hold on for as long as necessary to get promoted to a better District – which, with any luck, wouldn't be Eleven.

"Heard from Mags that Porter's having troubles keeping him in line, poor woman." Haymitch replied, fishing a flask from the inner pocket of the suit Effie had insisted for two hours he wore for the parade. The blue suit fitted perfectly and if it had been left to him, he would have showed up in a washed-out short-sleeved shirt. It was well worth the headache she had suffered after that particular argument.

It took her a while to spot what the victors were talking about but once she caught a glimpse of it, it was impossible to unsee. Brent McBridge, the latest victor, was pulling another tantrum. Effie wrinkled her nose in distaste as the boorish man raised his voice on his mentor. Porter Tripp was well into her fifties and she had the harassed look of a woman who hadn't been getting enough sleep. Her usual fellow mentor from Five was nowhere to be seen, replaced for the year by the current victor who would take over as mentor.

"You did not hear it from me but I have been told he is unmanageable. Even more than the two of you, if you can believe that." Effie chimed in, earning herself twin looks of distaste. She pursed her lips, annoyed by their judgmental expressions. "It is not pure gossip, it is all everyone is talking about in the escorts' lounge."

"Maybe he's got reasons to be angry." Chaff countered. "Ever thought about that, love?"

"Implies that she can think." Haymitch mocked.

She pursed her lips harder, narrowing her eyes. "And what reasons, pray tell, would he have to behave like this?"

"He's good-looking." Chaff deadpanned.

She frowned, utterly lost. "Not all good-looking people feel entitled to throw tantrums, Chaff."

"I'm gonna have to remember that one next time you do then, yeah?" Haymitch snorted. There was a hard edge under the levity though and he tossed his best friend a look of warning.

"Why, Haymitch…" she half-purred. "Was that a compliment?"

He had been so busy looking at Eleven's victor with weird gravitas that he looked completely confused by her retort and frowned. "How's me saying you're throwing tantrums like the spoiled child you are a compliment? How's it like in that brain of yours? Too much hairspray?"

"But, by your reasoning, it does imply you find me good-looking." she replied, unfazed.

A snort escaped Chaff and he disguised his subsequent chuckles into a cough. When Haymitch shot him a betrayed look, Eleven's victor shrugged. "She's got you there… And it ain't really a secret you find her hot, buddy…"

Effie preened, grinning hard. "No. I am afraid it is not."

They absolutely disliked each other and Effie could not wait to get a victor who actually mentored instead of dropping all the work on her shoulders but if there was one thing that had been clear to her since she had met Haymitch, it was that he found her attractive. Oh, he had never said anything or even hinted at it, of course, aside from those misguided attempts into seducing her – and half of those attempts hadn't really been serious, sometimes she was tempted to say yes just to see the frightened look that was sure to flash on his face – but she knew. She could tell. She could always tell when someone found her attractive.

"You wish." Haymitch muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Do I?" she challenged, her eyes sparkling in amusement.

Chaff didn't even try to hide his amusement this time. "Just fuck her already, Haymitch." He shook his head, patted his friend's shoulder and walked off into the crowd.

Effie stared after him with her nose wrinkled in annoyance. "So vulgar. I see why you like him so much. Birds of a feather, I suppose."

Haymitch glared at her with mild irritation, hands buried in his pockets. "I hate you."

She didn't even bat an eyelash at that spontaneous declaration. They were quite used to that sort of outbursts by then. If she didn't blurt out three times a week that she hated him or loathed him, he was sure to do it. It was good really. At least, they knew where they stood. It was almost positively refreshing compared to the backstabbing she was used to.

"Such pleasantries. And it is not even noon." she deadpanned with a bright cheerful smile. "What a thrilling afternoon we have in store."

"I ain't spending the afternoon with you." he grumbled.

"Yes, you are." she refuted. "We are coaching the tributes."

"Right. In your dreams." he scoffed, turning away from her and toward the stairs that led up the rows of seats.

She followed without really paying attention to her surroundings, perhaps a little too used to people giving way to her. Was it her fault that a crowd usually parted in front of her to let her walk through? She was that beautiful. And famous. And intimidating. And everything else in between.

"Haymitch, I am being serious right now." she snapped at his retreating back. "I expect…"

The collision was so brutal that she shrieked, instinctively grabbing at the closest solid thing.

The closest solid thing turned out to be the very thing that had smashed into her – or, rather, the very someone.

Brent McBridge was a mountain of muscles. He must have been working out a lot because she was fairly sure that he hadn't been that muscular when he had won the previous year. She was also certain his scowl hadn't been so bitter and mean. From the Crowning she remembered a nice enough smile.

"Oh, I am terribly…" she started to apologize even though it wasn't really her fault, he had cut her path to the stairs after all.

"What the fuck's your problem?" Five's victor spat right into her face. She clenched her jaw when she felt a speckle of spit landing on her cheek. "You're blind? Or what? Trying to feel me up? What were you hoping for? That I'd catch you if you swooned right in front of me?"

There was so much viciousness and loathing in the victor's voice that Effie pursed her lips, quite disgusted herself. A brief glance over the man's shoulder revealed Five's escort, obviously in a state. Eileen was red in the face, looking apologetic if not downright embarrassed.

Effie had a lot of experience getting embarrassed by her victor's behavior in public so she chose to be merciful and to not turn this into a bigger scene. They were right next to the stairs, almost nobody had noticed… She would be gracious and let it go.

"How rude." she huffed, turning away to catch up with Haymitch.

At least, she tried to turn away.

A hand grabbed her forearm in a brutally tight grip and pulled her back. Five's victor sneered at her, his face a mask of fury. "I said what's your problem?"

"Let me go at once." she ordered, refusing to be cowed.

Haymitch liked to try and intimidate her too and she never caved.

Haymitch, however, had never clenched her arm to the point it was actually becoming painful and he had never looked quite that threatening. Even when he got angry… Well, she had never really gotten scared. Not even the time he had tossed the glass at the wall. The fact that he had aimed at the wall instead of at her head had actually prompted her to keep antagonizing him. He thought he was a scary man, a dangerous man, but… He truly was not.

Five's victor now…

"Let me go." she repeated in a hiss. She purposefully kept her voice cold and detached but she couldn't help a wince when he tightened his grip even more and twisted her arm a little.

"Or what?" Brent challenged, indifferent to the frantic whispered commands from his escort and his former mentor to leave her alone. The two women seemed eager to resolve the problem without attracting more attention than they already were.

Effie tried to pull herself free, now more scared than she was willing to admit. He was hurting her and he looked a little mad and…

"Let her go right now." Haymitch's voice demanded behind her. She felt his hand on her back for a second. Then it was gone but he was standing in front of her, right between her and the other victor. "Let her go right now, kid."

He sounded casual almost but there was something like steel underneath it all.

"She slammed into me." Five's victor spat.

"She's clumsy." Haymitch replied pleasantly. "Now, let's not make this into a big thing, yeah? Cause people are starting to look and you really don't wanna get caught manhandling an escort."

"Haymitch, I'm sorry…" Porter Tripp tried to intercede. "He doesn't mean…"

"It's all right." he said, his tone warming when he glanced at the older victor. "I've been there. I know. He just needs to let my escort go. Right now."

"She slammed into me." Brent repeated.

"For fuck's sake, Brent, let the girl go!" Porter snapped, nervously glancing around.

Over Haymitch's shoulder, Effie saw Five's victor's sneer harden even more.

"Look…" Haymitch said quietly. "I've been where you are, I get it. I really do. Didn't like people trying to grope me either but she really wasn't trying anything. She ain't that kind. It was an accident."

"She's a slut like the rest of them." Brent snarled.

"I beg your pardon!" Effie huffed, forgetting to worry about the state of her arm in her outrage. "My, I have never…"

"Sweetheart, shut up." Haymitch cut her off in an amicable tone that sounded very false. She sputtered in annoyance, caught another glimpse of Brent's face and promptly fell silent. That man looked deranged. "Here's the thing, Brent. You seem like a nice kid and I'm sorry for what you're going through. Thing is, if you break her arm, you're gonna be in more trouble than she's worth. You're gonna get your mentor in trouble too." The young man glanced at Five's oldest victor but it didn't seem to be enough to convince him to let go of Effie and… She couldn't see Haymitch's face but she knew it had hardened at the particular cutting edge in his voice. "Also, she's my escort and that makes her off limits to you. If you don't let her go in the next five seconds I'm gonna have to punch you and I don't really wanna do that."

"You think you scare me?" Bren taunted.

"Enough." Porter cut in, placing a hand on her former tribute's arm. "This is stupid. Let the girl go. Haymitch's right, we're all gonna get in trouble. Think about your family."

It was an odd comment to make, Effie thought, but it seemed to reach him when everything else had failed.

At last, she felt his grip slacken, just a little mind, and she tugged herself free from his fingers. She took a few hasty steps back. The man glared at her but Haymitch remained between the two of them, a solid shield.

"Effie, are you alright?" Eileen asked, dashing past the three victors. "I am so sorry! I cannot apologize enough! This is…"

Effie flinched away from her, cradling her arm against her chest. A glance around confirmed they had been attracting an audience.

"Haymitch." she called, her voice less steady than she would have liked. "I do believe we should take our seats. I would hate to be late."

"Please, don't go to the Gamemakers." Porter Tripp begged, her eyes darting from Haymitch to Effie. "I… We can settle this between us. Please."

"Nothing to settle." Haymitch dismissed. His gaze, when it turned to Brent, was more pitiful than angry. "You take care now, boy."

Ignoring Five's escort's numerous apologies, Effie darted up the stairs, making a beeline toward their seats. Chaff watched them approach, tensed. Next to him, Viola Summercket was positively beaming. On Eleven's escort's other side, Seeder looked a little concerned.

"You're okay, love?" Chaff asked.

"I am fine." she dismissed, leaving a spot empty between herself and Eleven's victor, not at all surprised when Haymitch stepped past her to fill it.

"Look…" Haymitch winced. "I know you're probably dying to run to Torello to complain…"

"I won't. It is fine. He is obviously disturbed." she cut him off. She hated how shaken she sounded, how frightened… However, she was not going to run to the Head Gamemaker to complain about the newest victor. That wouldn't result in anything but a reminder that escorts were replaceable when victors weren't. "Besides, Eileen would get in trouble and I happen to like her."

That was an exaggeration and she distinctly heard Viola scoff. She wasn't remotely surprised Eleven's escort was eavesdropping.

Haymitch studied her for a moment, a blank unreadable expression on his face. In the end, he licked his lips and reached for her arm. She flinched and his hand paused for a moment before resuming its course.

"Let me see." he requested.

There was no hiding she was trembling when he gently cradled her forearm in his hand and probed at her wrist with the other. She hissed once or twice but managed to remain composed for the most part.

"It's gonna bruise but it should be alright." he professed after a serious inspection. He hesitated, made a face… "Thank you for not making a scene. It's the last thing that boy needed."

"Thank you for coming to my rescue." she whispered.

He shrugged it off. "Unlike some other escorts I had, I don't actually want to push you down the stairs…"

He tossed a nasty look Viola's way but his former escort ignored him.

Effie suppressed the urge to giggle. It would certainly have sounded a tad too hysterical.

"May I borrow your flask?" she asked. He lifted his eyebrows but handed it over. She took a steady mouthful only to immediately cough at the unexpected taste. She thought he was carrying whiskey in there not… "What is that? Petrol fumes?"

"Moonshine." he replied, almost proud. "Twelve's best."

She shook her head but took another careful sip. "I will never understand you."

There he was professing to hate her but jumping to her rescue… He was a walking contradiction and she hated it.

"It's quite alright, sweetheart…" he taunted. "Don't go straining that little brain of yours now…"

She pouted, not quite steady enough to play along with the usual banter yet.

"You never defended me before…" she remarked. "Your friends have made fun of me plenty of times before… Why am I suddenly off limits?"

For a moment, she wasn't sure he would answer. It certainly seemed to cost him to address the issue. "Making fun's one thing. That was something else." He mulled it over a second, snatched back the flask so he could have a few gulps and then shrugged. "We ain't friends, doesn't mean we're not allies."

There was a certain logic to that, she supposed, one she could accept.

After all, for all their spats and arguments, she had certainly verbally tore a few people to shreds for talking badly about Twelve and its victor…

The fact that he was willing to protect her…

It made her feel better. She wasn't stupid enough not to figure out that the Games didn't always remain inside the arena. When alliances deteriorated on screen, mentors often were at each other's throats – sometimes literally.

"We are a team." she stated with a satisfied nod.

He cringed at the term. "I guess…"

He didn't sound very enthusiastic about it.

"Ah, if it ain't enough to warm a frozen heart…" Chaff teased, wriggling his eyebrows at them.

Effie rolled her eyes and scoffed, trying hard to fight her smile.

The two of them were ridiculous.

And she was not fond of them at all.