Prompt: Please may I prompt a fic (set maybe in the quell when haymitch has cut back a little on drinking?) where hayffie are pretty much exclusively together & effie realises that it's actually a possibility that they've never slept together whilst haymitch hasn't had at least one drink & she starts to doubt whether he's only attracted to her when he's drunk/whether he actually even wants her when he's sober (maybe he's been a little off with her because of rebellion stress & she misinterprets it?)

Rain Check

When Effie walked back in the living-room after shooing the children to bed – and pretending she didn't know Katniss will sneak into Peeta's room or the reverse – she was relieved to find it empty saved for Haymitch. She was a bit miffed Cinna and Portia had sneaked out without saying goodnight but she supposed the stylists were tired and impatient to go to bed too.

She could relate.

The Quell's training period was no good for anyone.

It was bad enough having to send the children downstairs every morning but to hear her fellow escorts cluck their tongues and exchange sad looks every time their paths crossed… There wasn't one of them who was happy about the victors being downgraded to tributes, not even Viola. The thing was… It didn't matter how much you didn't get along with your victors, when you had been working with them for years you cared about them potentially getting killed, of course you did.

She watched Haymitch bring the glass full of orange juice to his lips while he distractedly reviewed her sponsors files and she couldn't help the pang of relief in her chest. She had been having these kind of moments regularly since the Reaping, only to feel guilty afterwards because being relieved that Haymitch wouldn't be sent to an arena meant being relieved that Peeta was being shipped to his probable death.

But she couldn't help it.

If it had been him… Oh, she would have gone crazy…

Sensing her presence, Haymitch glanced up at her, his grey eyes bloodshot but sharp. "Going to bed?"

It was late and she really should. She had been on her feet all days trying to coax sponsors to root for them – harder than it should have been given that they were the current winning District, there were rumors the Gamemakers were displeased and that… She chased those thoughts away to deal with the next day. She was tired and she knew it would only get worse once the Games actually began. An early night seemed like a wise option but…

"Is that an offer?" she purred.

His lips stretched into a smirk and his eyes lingered on her tight pink dress but there was a touch of regret in them that made her think he wouldn't take her up on it.

They hadn't had sex since the train.

And it had been desperate frantic I'm-glad-not-to-be-Reaped sex. He hadn't sought her out since and she had been too busy to really care because the children came first but…

Now she was realizing that, for them, days together without even a quick tumble against a wall was… Well… It didn't sound…

The thing was, Haymitch was extremely focused on the Games, more than she had ever seen him, even the previous year when it had become obvious they had a shot. He was always meeting with sponsors or going off to prospect a possible source of money…

And never bringing her with him to any of those meetings…

She had tried not to think anything about the fact he preferred to take Cinna to sponsor meetings rather than her. The only time she had asked he had said 'Divide and conquer' and she had accepted it at face value because she knew he trusted her to get sponsors to the table.

That wouldn't have bothered her so much if he hadn't become so distant since they had reached the city.

She was used to the two of them working as at team. The fact that he was going off on his own was disturbing enough but there was also the fact that… He didn't touch her anymore… She was used to hands covertly coping a feel, to him standing an inch closer than propriety dictated, to private jokes whispered in her ear, to heated looks across a room…

As his eyes left her body to go back to the papers, she was quickly coming to the realization that none of that had happened in a while.

"I wish." he snorted, shaking her – not quite legal but certainly handy – color-coded sponsor files. "Need to finish checking those three out."

"I can help." she offered.

He shook his head. "I'm good. Go get some rest."

She was dismissed.

Just like that she was dismissed.

His attention was back on the papers in his hand although she wasn't quite sure what he was looking for and it was as if she wasn't standing right there at all.

Her heart started racing. She wasn't sure if it was out of panic or anger. She didn't like being dismissed or ignored. She didn't like that he didn't seem interested in her anymore. She didn't like that…

She tried to figure out what had changed, if she had done or said something even if he didn't look angry – and that might be worse because it might just mean he had just grown bored with her – when it hit her. He was sober.

That was the big difference.

He was sober.

Or as close to it they were going to get without him going in withdrawals, at least. Already, he was exhibiting symptoms. The shaking hands, the regular headaches he popped pill after pill to quench, the hot and cold flashes he was managing to conceal from the children…

Haymitch was sober.

And, apparently, a sober Haymitch wasn't interested in her.

She stood there frozen and she had been wrong to think he had entirely dismissed her because when she failed to move, her body going completely cold from her realization, he glanced up at her again, eyebrows furrowed in question. She schooled her features quickly, hiding her dismay behind a blinding smile.

Not quickly enough though.

The question on his face turned into a frown.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing." she lied, swallowing hard around the lump that had appeared in her throat. The fact that he might not want her anymore… It was too hard to swallow. She gestured at the files. "If I help you, it will be quicker and then we can both go to bed. And have some fun."

Did she sound desperate? She sounded desperate to her own ears.

Something changed in Haymitch. The frown had been mostly concerned but now, he looked guarded.

"Why are you so interested in those files?" he retorted, suspicious.

Why was he suspicious?

It was her turn to frown. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you're awfully eager to dig through my selection." he retorted, gathering the files in a big pile and messing up all the work he had done until that point. His organization skills were null, that was why he needed her but she couldn't help but think that move looked a little too deliberate. As if he didn't want her to see which sponsors he had selected in the first place.

"Those are my files." she reminded him. Something passed on his face but she wasn't quite sure how to label it. "What is going on, Haymitch?"

"You tell me." He shrugged. "What's so interesting about those?"

Why were they even arguing about the sponsors files? "I do not know. You tell me."

He was on his feet and in her space in a flash.

She felt the familiar thrill when he crowded her.

"Don't snoop, sweetheart." he advised in a calm but warning tone.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "It is hardly snooping when they belong to me." She had done the work, after all. She had collected information on all those people and organized it in files, every little rumor, every ugly truth… It was all there for them to exploit. She certainly wasn't the only escort with that kind of files but she was sure hers were the most detailed. However she didn't want to fight about stupid things so she smoothed the wrinkles on his shirt, wondering where he had dropped his jacket and the waistcoat, letting her hand linger. "I do not care about your private sponsor hunting, Haymitch, I just want you to come to bed. It's been days… Don't you miss me?" She pouted and leaned in, brushing her lips against his. "I miss you."

Dangerous to admit, perhaps, but she knew he didn't resist her pleading voice well.

He licked his lips, causing them to brush against her mouth again. His hands were on her waist now, warm through the thin fabric of her dress, and she was so sure he would finally kiss her and…

He dropped his arms and stepped back. "You should head to bed. You're gonna need the rest. You know it's gonna get crazy as soon as the Games start properly."

He turned his back on her and she felt cold. Cold and humiliated and a thousand things in between.

Something escaped her throat, between a choked laugh and a sob.

It startled him because he whirled back around and frowned at her, the frown grew harder when he spotted the tears she was too slow to blink away.

"I think I will head to bed." she snapped. "Goodnight, Haymitch."

She snatched her clutch from the side table on which she had dropped it off earlier and headed straight to the roof, letting the door slam shut behind her. She regretted it immediately because she didn't want to disturb the children's rest but she was too mad and hurt to care enough to go check on them or apologize. She climbed the stairs quickly and took a deep breath once the chilly night air hit her. She made her way to the hip-low wall, rummaged through her clutch and, when she didn't find what she was looking for, emptied the content on the concrete.

There wasn't much in there. A tube of lipstick, a few mints, her ID, a battered packet of cigarettes and the silver lighter Finnick had gifted her with as a birthday present so many years ago. Finnick who would be going in an arena with her tributes and who would probably try to kill them if Katniss and Peeta didn't try to get him out first…

Really, it was a great time for Haymitch to figure out he didn't want her anymore.

A great time.

She really needed that on top of everything else.

She wedged the cigarette between her lips and struggled to light it because her hands were shaking and she felt like crying – which in turn made her lips wobble. Eventually, she managed and the first drag was an immediate relief. She let the smoke blow out, her eyes locked on the multicolor dots of lights that spread over the city so she could pretend they weren't prickling with tears.

The door to the roof always creaked when opened so she had ample warning to the fact she wasn't alone anymore.

"Go back to your sponsors files." she spat before he could say anything.

She wasn't even sure why he had bothered coming up. He wasn't drinking so it wasn't like he could keep her company while they both indulged in their respective poison.

"I feel like I've missed something." Haymitch sighed, sounding every bit as tired as she felt.

She didn't turn around to face him. She took another aggressive puff and flicked the ashes off on the ground.

"I am the one who missed the part where our thing was over." she snapped. "You could have informed me, of course, but I do not know why I still expect you to show some manners. Now, go back downstairs because I fear I will need a few hours before I can pretend not to be angry about how callously you chose to deal with this."

Although she supposed she couldn't entirely blame him.

He had never been this sober before.

She had always refused to sleep with him when he was drunk – at least when she was so drunk he wasn't in control of his actions – but being tipsy or not being wasted wasn't the same as being sober was it? Had he even once consciously soberly chosen to sleep with her or…

"The fuck?" He was making a cautious approach behind her, she was too attuned to his body not to feel it. So she wasn't surprised when he placed his hands on her waist. "What the hell are you talking about, Effie?" He paused and then took a deep breath. "And why are you so interested in what I'm doing with the files? Cause if anyone put you up to anything, you need to tell me now. I can help but…"

The urgency in his voice made her frown and she turned around to face him this time, ignoring the way his eyes went straight to the tracks the tears had left on the foundation powder on her cheeks.

"What are you talking about?" she challenged. "Why are you so obsessed with those bloody files?"

She understood why it was important to find sponsors but this was extreme.

"Why are you?" he insisted, not even joking about her bout of vulgarity.

She rolled her eyes and brought the cigarette to her lips, stepping away from him because the last thing she wanted right then was to feel him close. "I was trying to seduce you. Not that you were interested. Or have been in a while."

He blinked at her and then winced. "Ah." He reached for her but she sidestepped and headed for another portion of the wall. "Effie…"

"It is alright." she cut him off, staring at the nightlights because it was easier than looking at him. It took all she had to keep herself collected. She took drag after drag of her cigarette because it was the best accessory she could cling to, because it was the best way to pretend she wasn't affected. "Clearly, I am more appealing to you when you are drunk than when you are sober. Which is not insulting at all." She muttered the last part under her breath but she was pretty sure he caught it anyway. "I simply wish you had told me you were not interested anymore."

Perhaps she should go out, she mused. It was late but never late enough that there wouldn't be a party somewhere. She could find someone to distract her for the night…

She wasn't expecting him to get close again but suddenly he was right there, pressed against her back, his hands on either side of her on the low wall, caging her in, forcing her to bend a little…

"I'm still very interested." he growled against her ear. He sneaked an arm around her waist and tugged her back even closer, rubbing her against him, and… Yes. She could feel he was interested. But that only made her frown because… "Thing is…" He pressed a wet kiss against her neck. "I think it's smarter if we're a bit more discreet about this right now, alright? No talk about fucking where we know people are listening…"

That made sense.

She hadn't told him about the black cars and the men in casual clothes who moved like Peacekeepers. They had been shadowing her everywhere since the 74th Games. Gamemakers shunned her. Escorts were wary around her.

She hadn't told him any of that but…

"If you wanted to put on a break-up show you could have told me." she pointed out, not entirely convinced.

"Wasn't exactly planned." he sighed. "I just… I'm trying to do the best I can, sweetheart, but I've got… divided loyalties."

He snorted as if it was a good joke but she didn't get it.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"That means there's no winning for us." he grumbled. "Look. I'm sorry if I've been… distant or whatever. I'm really focused on trying to save the kids."

"I know." she argued, tossing what was left of her cigarette. "Do not make me sound like an egocentric selfish person. The children come first, there is no question, but it is not just the fact there has not been time or…" She clamped her jaw shut and shook her head. "You do not look at me anymore. You do not… You do not want me."

"Oh come on…" He pushed his hips harder against her backside. "What's this then?"

It wasn't a full erection. It was a man starting to get hard because he had rubbed himself against a shapely ass. It was biology. That was what it was.

"Pity." she acknowledged. "Because you do not know how to handle me being sad."

He had never dealt well with her truly being upset.

And they were friends, weren't they? Even if they weren't…

"Pity?" he scoffed. "Right, cause that's my style."

He whirled her around and pinned her against the low wall, his hands coming up to cradle her face. He was gentle. More gentle than she expected.

She refused to meet his eyes. She kept her gaze straight on his cheekbone so he wouldn't see just how hurt she was.

She still had her pride.

And it wasn't like she shouldn't have expected it, wasn't it? Men grew bored. It had been close to ten years. Men grew bored. Sober men more than drunk ones apparently. And… And what had she been thinking? That he would want to keep her forever? He had always been very clear there were no feelings on his side and that she was ridiculous if she had some on hers. Of course it wouldn't last forever. Of course it…

"Listen." he mumbled. "I can't tell you everything right now but… There's a lot of stuff happening and this thing between us, it has to take a back burner for now."

Her eyes darted up to briefly meet his.

"This thing?" she repeated.

He had never ever admitted it was even a thing before.

He rolled his eyes but stroke her cheekbone with his thumb, probably smearing the foundation powder. "Whatever you wanna call it." He licked his lips, suddenly looking a little shifty. "I've got a plan, sweetheart. You just need to trust me."

She wasn't exactly an idiot.

And she wasn't blind.

She could put two and two together and everything added up to a rebellion.

Her heart beat faster. "Haymitch…"

He shut her up by kissing her. Hard and rough.

A warning.

Even on the roof there were things that shouldn't be said.

"Trust me." he demanded. "And when we're safe I'm gonna show you just how much I want you, sober or otherwise. Alright?"

That was implying they would somehow still be together if his plan worked, whatever it was. She was banking on some escape because it was the only logical option.

Did that mean he wanted to take her with them?

"Is that a promise?" she whispered.

"You know I don't do promises." he rebuked but he was smirking and his voice was more teasing than angry.

"Make an exception." she insisted.

He snorted but kissed her again. Softer. Sweeter. "I promise I'm gonna fuck you as soon as this fucking Quell is behind us. As many times as you want, even. Cause I'm nice like that."

She pursed her lips but stole a last kiss, sensing he would want to go back inside soon, before anyone got suspicious of their long absence.

"Do you really still want me?" she asked uncertainly.

"Do I ever not want you?" he scoffed right back. "Even when you look like a clown, I'm hard in pants for you. Come on, princess, you know better. Insecure ain't your style."

It really wasn't.

She took a deep breath and pushed him away a little. "Very well, then. I will accept a rain check."

She just hoped she would get to cash it in.