Prompt: Hi :) I really love your Seneca hc. Could you write something about what you said about him trying to make things slightly safer on the prostitution front where haymich has to swallow his pride and get help from Seneca because Effie was 'advised' to spend the night with someone and they hurt her?

Obviously this deals with prostitution, so if you're not comfortable with relatively dubious con… (because it's Effie so she doesn't see it that way).

An Exercise In Restraint

Restraint had never been Haymitch's forte.

He was impatient by nature but knew that sometimes waiting was a necessary evil and he knew to wrestle with his patience when he wanted something. He knew how to be cunning when a long con was needed. He knew to use his head and be smart because nothing else allowed you to survive in the Capitol.

But restraint he had never really been good at, not when people he cared about were hurt.

So it was a battle to casually make his way to Crane through the crowd instead of striding there like he wanted to do. It was a battle to stop and chat with a few people instead of pouncing on the Head Gamemaker. It was a battle to stop himself from shouting and throwing punches and it took everything he had to remind himself that, in the absence of a steadying hand on his arm, he needed to consider everything Effie wasn't there to remind him of.

He couldn't have been too subtle about his approach though, because Crane excused himself from the cluster of sponsors he was talking to right as Haymitch crossed the last stretch of the distance between them. When the Head Gamemaker retreated slightly into an alcove of the huge Games Headquarters hall, he followed without a single moment of hesitation.

"What do you want, Abernathy?" Crane sighed, sounding annoyed and wary all at once. Maybe a little defensive too but, then again, he had reasons to be.

"Effie." he growled. Who's supposed to be your best friend, he didn't say. Who swears high and low you're a good man, he didn't add. Who has your back every time you need it, he didn't finish.

Crane's face remained stuck in that mask of polite interest but his eyebrows twitched as if he wanted to frown. "Isn't she back?"

There was a touch of worry in the man's voice and that worry pushed each and every one of Haymitch's buttons. What good was it to have a best friend Head Gamemaker if the guy couldn't keep her safe from…

He took a deep breath.

Restraint.

Punching Crane would probably make him happy for one second or two but Crane wasn't the fish he was after.

"She crawled back to the penthouse in the middle of the night." he spat.

Craned glanced around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping. They were far enough in the shadow that most people weren't paying attention. A few were tossing curious glances though. It wasn't often Twelve's victor was seen conferring with the Head Gamemaker.

"What Effie does on her personal time is none of your business." Crane snapped. "And I don't care for your judgmental jealous…"

"No." he cut him off, lowering his voice to match the man's tone, lowering it enough that it turned into a snarl. "She crawled back to the penthouse in the middle of the night." He let that sink for a second, gritting his teeth when realization dawned in the Gamemaker's eyes that he wasn't insulting his escort, that he wasn't being metaphorical. "She won't tell me what really happened. She's sticking to a stupid story about twisting her ankle and falling down the stairs."

A flash of something dangerous passed on Crane's face before he schooled his features into polite attentiveness once more. "I see. How hurt is she exactly?"

"That she let me see? Ankle's busted. Wrists bruised. Half her face's black and blue and that was with the make-up…" he growled. "Didn't get to see the rest cause she wouldn't let me any closer."

"Which tells us everything." the Gamemaker muttered under his breath, clenching his jaw and looking past Haymitch's shoulder. Haymitch turned his head, hoping to spot whoever he was searching for in the crowd, whoever had hurt his escort so badly she hadn't even tried to roll out of bed that morning and had simply left a note with an Avox for him to find instead. Because when he caught that person, Capitol higher-up or not, they were dead meat.

He couldn't shield her from appointments any more than she could shield him from them. He could refuse to play the Careers' game and pimp her out – and himself –for money but he couldn't protect her if a Gamemaker nudged her in a certain direction with explicit orders to make someone happy. They never discussed it because there was nothing to tell. Their lives were what they were.

But he drew the line at her getting hurt.

And unlike Head Gamemakers before him, Crane was rumored not to stand for that kind of stuff either. There were limits and the limits shouldn't be crossed, which, according to Finnick, was a drastic improvement on before. It was still a shitty business and he wasn't innocent of what was going on behind the scenes by any means but Crane had tried to make the whole special appointments system a bit safer for victors and escorts alike.

"I will send the doctor up from the Games Clinic." Crane told him, looking deeply unhappy.

"Could have done that." he scoffed. "What I want is a name."

Crane hesitated.

Probably because he did care about Effie.

But then the Gamemaker remembered the rules of the game and shook his head. "I will have a word with President Snow. I assure you it won't happen again to someone else, not with that particular... date anyway."

That wasn't enough.

"Give me his name." he insisted. "I'll remember to let him live."

He'd show restraint. Again. Maybe not much but enough that they would still be breathing by the end of it.

"You don't beat up women, Abernathy." Crane reminded him. "And it was a woman."

He didn't care.

Man, woman… That person was an asshole. A sadistic asshole who had hurt his escort. "I'll make an exception."

Again, Crane hesitated but he clearly had more restraint than Haymitch did. "I will talk to President Snow. If he thinks that sort of… lesson is warranted, I will make sure to let you know."

"She's your friend." he growled. "She deserves better than…"

"And she is your escort." Crane cut him off. "Perhaps, remember that before someone starts wondering why you care so much."

"I don't care." he lied. "I just…"

He faltered and Crane snorted.

"Right." the man mocked but there was no real meanness in it. "I will make the arrangements and come up to the penthouse to check on her. Go back to her and make sure she is alright."

Haymitch's eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm not your puppet, Crane."

The Head Gamemaker took a step closer, lowering his voice even more. "If she weren't my best friend, you would be. I have kept the lid on whatever dalliance the two of you are having, so…" The man shook his head. "I am not asking for anything you do not want to do anyway. Go back to her, make sure she is alright. I will deal with the rest." He paused. "I promise."

Promises from a Gamemaker weren't worth shit but what else could Haymitch do anyway? Without a name, he didn't know who to beat up in retribution.

He might as well make himself useful some other way.

Like by coaxing whatever happened out of her in hope she let a clue slip so he could hit someone…