Prompt: still loving your Hayffie-fics and your last installment on HaDS inspired a new prompt, if you're still willing to take those: Effie's showing how smart she really is (Mockingjay-time, Games-time, post-war, book-/movie-verse: your pick) and everyone is really surprised 'cause they're so used to the dumb escort persona. though Haymitch is just smirking 'cause he knew all along and "well, that's my girl". thank you

I'm going to try and update this on Mondays too for a little while because I'm way ahead with prompts so... Better make the most of it. I would love feedback naturally as it's the best way to keep motivated haha.

Clever Is The New Sexy

Wasting resources was absolutely frowned upon in Thirteen – which was in part why Effie had been requested to stop customizing her uniforms and wear the plain boring version like everyone else even thought she had promised she would find a way to reuse the excess of fabric.

Did doodling in the margins of the notes she was taking for Plutarch – because she was a bloody secretary now – wasting resources? Probably if Haymitch's increasing warning glances were to be believed.

She ignored him and kept sketching the dress she wished she was wearing instead of that grey jumpsuit monstrosity, wishing she could ignore everything else that was happening in Command as easily. She had never really been good at tuning people out, however. Unlike her victor, she had never developed the habit.

The briefing had been going on for hours – so long, in fact, that they had already missed lunch – and they were no closer to finding a solution to their problem. The problem being that they didn't have a good way to get to that apparently crucial outpost in Three.

They had been studying schematics for hours, reviewing the schedules of all exterior interactions the scientists in there had, had listened to Beetee detailing the defenses three times… And they still couldn't agree on how to approach the situation.

Boggs and Coin were in favor of a frontal attack as a distraction while a specialized team sneaked in through that very conveniently accessible vent shaft at the back of the building – assuming the team managed to get through the mines undetected. Haymitch thought the vent was too obvious and, thus, a trap and kept arguing they should just surround them, cut them off from the supplies the Capitol's hovercrafts dropped them regularly by occupying the air space and wait them out. Plutarch wanted to convince them to come to the rebellion's side by making Beetee their spokesperson since he knew them. Coin's other advisors all had ideas.

None of them were practical.

None of them were useful.

And Effie was bored to tears.

It was going on and on and on… Full circle and back again…

"For goodness' sake!" she exclaimed finally when Boggs started arguing his idea again. "Just strap a Capitol emblem on a hovercraft and drop a few soldiers dressed like Peacekeepers. By the time they realize it is not the Capitol, your men will be inside the outpost and can neutralize the handful of guards. The rest will fall in line. They are scientists. You can disengage the defenses and let everyone in safely."

She hadn't meant to lose her patience and she certainly hadn't meant to shout. How unladylike. Everyone was staring at her as if she had grown a second head. Even Coin.

She winced. "I apologize. Hypoglycemia makes me cranky."

"No…" Boggs said before anyone could answer. "That's actually not a bad idea, Effie." He turned to Coin. "That can be our decoy. Couple that with an infiltration team…"

"It could work." The President nodded and then shot Effie a look that was both surprised and a little wary. As if she had been underestimating her all along and wouldn't be doing that mistake twice.

Then again, everyone in that room was looking surprised except for Haymitch who was just smirking very smugly.

She huffed and swallowed back the urge to tell them she was more than a pretty doll, thank you very much.

"Alright, briefing adjourned. We'll meet up again tomorrow morning." Coin declared.

Effie shot out of her chair, eager to get to the dining hall before her scheduled time for eating expired and she was denied access to her food. Plutarch fell into step with her as soon as she left the room.

"That was a brilliant idea, Effie." the former Gamemaker complimented her. "I did not know you had such a sound mind for tactics."

"Or a sound mind full stop?" Haymitch snorted behind them.

He was still smirking and she slowed down so he could catch up.

"I would never presume…" Plutarch protested defensively.

"Do not mind him." Effie advised, clucking her tongue. "He loves to irk me."

"I do love to irk you, that's true." Twelve's victor agreed, nodding, his eyes saying everything his tone wasn't. With that smirk on his lips. She knew exactly what he was thinking.

She shot him a look, her lips slightly pursed for good measure.

Plutarch suddenly remembered he had forgotten something in Command.

"You made him uncomfortable." she chided Haymitch as soon as the former Gamemaker was gone.

"Me?" he asked in an innocent tone that didn't suit him at all. "I didn't say anything."

She sighed, relieved to see the elevator in sight. So close to her dinner… "Most adults can interpret sex eyes when they see them, Haymitch."

"I ain't giving you sex eyes." he denied.

She lifted an eyebrow and tilted her head to the side, shooting him another look.

That infuriating smirk of his was still on his lips.

"Plutarch and Boggs were giving you sex eyes." he pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. "Now, that is preposterous. Boggs is married and has a child and has never been inappropriate."

"Not so quick to defend Plutarch." he remarked, pushing the elevator call button.

"Plutarch makes compliments he does not mean." she dismissed. "And he would never step on your big weird-shaped toes."

Haymitch put a hand over his heart, his grey eyes dancing with mirth. "Talking shit about my toes? You wound me, sweetheart."

The elevator doors opened, as expected it was packed with people but she went in anyway. Haymitch followed, mostly shielding her from the rest of Thirteen citizens with his body, his hand at the small of her back in a way that was almost proprietary – it certainly was low enough not to be appropriate while being high enough not to be offensive. He often put himself between her and District people when he could, she wasn't even sure he noticed he was doing it. But the hand… The hand wasn't habit.

"You are in a mood." she hissed through her teeth.

People were talking between themselves, she didn't think anyone was eavesdropping…. Still, he bent down a little so he could speak directly in her ear. "It's sexy when you're being clever…"

"Funny." she deadpanned. "Most men found it sexier when their women are dumb."

"Capitol men." he corrected. "I like your brain…"

She snorted. "Nobody has ever accused me of having one of those. And you, yourself, often likes to remind me how hairspray has damaged it, don't you?" She leaned a little into his side, just enough that he would feel it, not enough that it was noticeable. "I am a simple girl, Haymitch."

"You're nothing simple, Princess." he countered with fondness. "Part of why I like having you around. Keeps me on my big weird-shaped toes."

"Yes, well…" She tried to suppress her grin and failed. "Save that mood for later. I will not miss dinner. Not even for you."

"You could have me for dinner…" he whispered in her ear.

They were starting to attract attention so she shoved him a little.

"Behave." she demanded.

"Make me." he challenged, loud enough that the closest people to them probably heard.

"Very well." She flashed him a sweet smile and batted her eyelashes innocently. "If you do not behave, you won't have dessert."

He got her meaning loud and clear.

Although, to be fair, she was pretty sure everyone in that elevator got her meaning loud and clear.

He didn't seem to mind too much though.

His hand pressed a little more in the small of her back and he looked even smugger than before.