hayffie happy prompt: just effie and haymith randomly having a good day, maybe a lunch at portia and cinna's, let me drown in the feelings for these two couples.

A Good Life For Me

Haymitch was crouched in front of the biggest bookshelf in their living-room, hunting down a novel he was certain he had stored there but hadn't had time to read yet. Effie often accused him of hoarding books he didn't even bother to crack open once; he had tried to explain he bought what struck his fancy even though he wasn't in any hurry to read them but she insisted he never put them away and all they did was collect dust in piles in different spots of the house. She had stopped making a fuss only after he had remarked about the astounding amount of shoes lined up at the bottom of their wardrobe, stocked in boxes under the bed and exposed on a special shoe rack next to the front door – only her most beautiful heels got the honor of being on display there though.

Nevertheless, Effie regularly tended to get fed up with the unshelved books and either forced them on top of their already full bookshelves or ordered a new one that always somehow triggered a redecorating spree – because to place a new bookshelf, you apparently needed to rearrange the whole room and possibly the whole floor. He had long ago learned to roll with it when that mood struck her.

But he was fairly sure he had stored that particular book himself and he was also fairly sure he had put it on that particular bookshelf. Accessing the lowest shelves was starting to be a hassle though. His knees pained him nowadays.

He peered at the bottom shelf, holding himself up with one hand to the bookshelf frame, trying to ignore the persistent ache in his left knee. All in all, he was a little relieved to hear the muffled sound of heels coming closer because he had been contemplating standing back up and he wasn't entirely sure he could do it by himself.

"Haymitch, have you seen the cat?" Effie asked, coming to stand right next to the bookshelf.

He peered up at her – never a bad view from that angle – and lifted both eyebrows, a smirk floating on his lips. "No. Might be 'cause we don't have a cat though."

She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to the side. The years hadn't softened that particular look of irritation, if possible the small wrinkles that had appeared at the corners of her eyes made it even more potent.

Haymitch found the whole thing charming – not that he had ever told her or would ever tell her.

"You know perfectly well I mean Postumius." she answered, not bothering to hide the annoyance in her tone.

Haymitch had never minded wasting her time though and it hadn't improved in recent years. He found that the older they got, the funnier it became.

"Yeah and I still say we don't have a cat and surely not one named Postumius." he snorted. "Now, if you're looking for that monster you insist on feeding, I saw it munching on a rat in the backyard this morning."

"Do not be preposterous, Postumius does not eat rats." she huffed. "He eats the scraps I leave him."

The scraps, the rats, the field mice, the moles when he managed to catch one… He would probably have gone after the geese if Haymitch's gander hadn't chased him all around the yard the few times he had tried – and Haymitch may have chased after him with a broom a couple of times too, which probably explained why the cat was always so eager to hiss at him.

He purred and rolled around for Effie who cuddled him without fear and treated him like a stuffed toy without seeming to realize the animal was wild and probably had some bobcat in his parentage. Haymitch had tried to explain, afraid that she would somehow get hurt, but the cat still came and went around the house like he pleased, allowed to nestle on her lap when he felt like it despite Haymitch's numerous warnings that he wasn't one of her Capitol kitties.

"He's probably sleeping it off somewhere sunny." Haymitch shrugged.

When the weather was poor, the cat was usually found near the fireplace – ready to scratch Haymitch's bottom if he tried to sit down on the armchair he had already claimed for himself – but when there was a little sun, the cat was lounging outside.

"Probably." she conceded, losing her stern expression. "What are you doing?"

"Small red book. Train on the cover? It's a thriller, I think." he explained, frowning at the bookshelf. "Can't find it."

"Well…" she started.

He rolled his eyes and cut her off before she could finish. "Yeah, I know. If I had a better filing system, I wouldn't always be looking… "

"You said it, not me." she triumphed, grinning. She also outstretched a hand that he took, letting her help him back up.

"If I do get a better system, you won't have anything to nag me about." he pointed out, wincing at how loud his knees creaked.

"I would still have plenty to complain about." she argued, amusement slipping in her tone. "Are we going to the children's for dinner?"

"Depends." He shrugged. "You think Katniss' gonna get off her angry phase any time soon?"

He didn't have much experience with pregnancy but even he had been aware hormones in a pregnant woman were a dangerous things.

Katniss seemed to have taken that to the next level though.

"I would not count on it." Effie made a small face. "The poor dear is overwhelmed, you know."

"I know." he granted. Katniss had been so reluctant to have children… It had taken Peeta fifteen years to wear her down on the subject and she wasn't at ease with the changes in her body, with the life growing inside her… It woke up demons and insecurities from her past. He understood – even though the last time he had tried to tell her that Katniss had flown into an enraged rant about how he couldn't understand because he didn't have an uterus and he wasn't growing a baby – and e sympathized wholeheartedly but… "What if we just skip dinner tonight? We could have some soup, have an early night."

"Like old people." Effie pouted.

"We're old people." he reminded her, leaning in to press a kiss on her cheek.

She chased after his mouth and pecked it. "Not that old."

"Never that old." he promised, eyes sparkling. "Didn't say we had to go to sleep early."

She leaned against the bookshelf, folding her arms in front of her chest. "We should not abandon poor Peeta. He gets breaks when Katniss is busy shouting at you or at me."

"Poor Peeta should have thought twice before making her pregnant." he mocked. "Now he can live with it for six more months."

She ducked her head to hide her smile, mainly because she was thinking it too, even though she was too polite to say. "Fine. I will call them to warn them not to expect us."

He watched her go – that view was never a bad one either – and then turned around, intending to flop down on the couch and take a little nap before he had to go and get the soup ready for their dinner.

He almost sat on the huge cat hidden away, buried between two cushions. He could have sworn Postumius almost looked disappointed when he cautiously relocated to the armchair.

He supposed it was too much to hope for that the cat had gone to find another hunting place.

"And it was such a good day… " he grumbled, glaring daggers at the cat.

The cat, predictably, glared right back.