Merry Christmas! I hope you're having a wonderful day! This is the last one-shot in our advent calendar! Enjoy!

Prompt : "Whisky is a perfectly acceptable alternative to turkey"

Turkey & Whiskey

Haymitch would have slammed the door in her face but Effie was well used to the grumpy ex-military's antics and put her foot in the doorframe before he could. Because he wasn't a cruel man, he even stopped himself before the door was shut all the way through so it wouldn't crush her heeled boot.

He also glared at her even harder but Effie had never let his hostility stop her before and she wouldn't start now.

"Haymitch, I am not taking no for an answer." she stated clearly, placing her hands on her hips for effect.

He half-scoffed, half-scowled. "When do you ever?"

She pursed her lips, not at all amused. "Be reasonable."

But Haymitch, as a rule, was never reasonable.

And he was even less reasonable on Christmas Day, as it turned out.

"How come they sent you?" he asked, his words slurring a little together. Thanks to the bottle of whiskey precariously dangling from his fingers no doubt. "It's usually Chaff…"

Chaff had offered to come and get him but she had insisted she could do it instead. She was relatively new to their group, of course. It was the first Christmas they would all spend together. However, in the last year, she had decided she loved Peeta like a son and would care for him like a mother – as he deserved – and if Peeta came with a package formed of a scowling girlfriend and a rude alcoholic mentor-type father figure, well so be it. Haymitch didn't like her interfering. Most days, he didn't like her full point.

But he certainly seemed to like ending a passionate fight by pushing her against a wall and forcing his tongue in her mouth. Not that there was a lot of forcing involved. She was usually an active participant in those little… accidents.

They never talked about it.

"If you knew someone would come and get you, you should have gotten showered and dressed." she rebuked, clucking her tongue at his appearance. She shoved past him – and she had to shove – and into the house, wrinkling her nose at the smell.

"Please, make yourself at home." he invited with a lot of sarcasm she chose not to dwell on as she took off her coat. "I don't need to get dressed."

"Well, you are certainly not coming in your pajamas." she retorted, carefully hanging her coat on the wall peg. "What the hell happened in there?"

She had been to his place a few times before and it was never spotless but it was usually clean enough, thanks to the housekeeper he generously paid. Right then, she figured the housekeeper must have been on holidays because the place was… thrashed. And disgusting.

"Rotting food in the kitchen…" he mumbled, the tip of his ears growing red.

She frowned. "Why haven't you thrown it out?"

"Can't be bothered." he grumbled, following her close when she headed there like a woman on a mission. She was a woman on a mission. "Look, sweetheart, I appreciate…"

"I will get rid of it." she declared. "You hop into the shower and find something clean to wear. Quickly, if you would."

"I'm not coming." he growled.

He was right behind her so he knocked into her back when she abruptly stopped just inside his kitchen and lifted a hand to cover her nose.

"Oh dear…" She swallowed the bile that rose at the back of her throat and made an effort to breathe with her mouth. "Nonsense. Of course, you are coming."

"You ain't listening to me." he fumed. "I ain't."

"Hurry up, will you?" she hummed, clenching her jaw as she spotted the origin of the smell. A rest of roast that had turned really bad. It must have been out there for days. The trashcan was overflowing. She headed that way first, quickly knotted the bag…

His big hand wrapped around her wrist. "You don't have to do that."

"I know but it will save time while you get ready. Consider it your Christmas present." she joked.

He looked entirely serious despite the tipsiness. "I'm not coming, Effie."

Her name coming from his lips shocked her a little because he never used it. Sometimes she even wondered if he knew it at all. She was always sweetheart or princess, and more rarely darling. And it was always delivered on a mocking or demeaning tone.

"Do not be ridiculous." she huffed, letting go of the trash bag to open the window over the sink and the back door while she was at it. It was freezing outside but anything would beat that smell. "What is the alternative? You spending Christmas all alone in this stinking house while we are all eating a delicious turkey?"

He shrugged, his lips twitching into a small smirk. "Whiskey is a perfectly acceptable alternative to turkey."

"You would say that." she muttered under her breath. Yet, she refused to be deterred. "I am not leaving until you agree to come with me."

He shrugged again. "If you wanna spend Christmas in a stinking house, suit yourself, but I ain't sharing my booze."

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him. "Very well. We could use some Christmas cheer, though. How about some Christmas carols? I love Christmas carols. I could sing all day."

And with that for only warning she started singing Jingle Bells just because he had complained only last week of how irritating that song was.

He groaned. "Don't." She sang louder. "Seriously, sweetheart…" She put more cheer into it, her eyes sparkling madly. She didn't have a bad voice, she knew. And she could keep it up all day. She was determined to out-stubborn him. "Can't you sing another fucking song, at least?"

She kept singing even as she tossed the trash bag outside and rummage around his cupboards for another empty one. He provided it with an irritated look and stopped her when she tried to toss out the rotting leftovers – which was for the best really because she was half-certain she saw white stuff move in there.

She dashed around, gathering empty bottles and various trash, singing all the while. The same song on a loop, watching him get more and more annoyed.

She didn't let him see but, inside, she was a bit sad and she felt mad at herself for not checking on him better than she had. Katniss kept an eye on him, she knew, but, mostly, it was Haymitch taking care of the girl – and of the boy and, as far as she saw, of everyone in their little group, herself included at times. Finnick had let it slip one night that Christmas was a difficult time for him – for all of them, really. They had all lost people, after all. But she had thought it would just be a bad case of Christmas blues… Not… this.

"Alright, fine!" he exclaimed after fifteen minutes. "Fine! Fucking fine! Shut your damn mouth! I'm coming!"

That was for the best.

She was starting to be out of breath.

She stopped singing and beamed at him with a bright smile.

He rolled his eyes. "You're a fucking pain in my ass, you know that?"

"Language." she chided, grinning harder. With the smelly leftover outside the door and the window open, it was a lot easier to breathe. She would wipe the counters and check his fridge while he was getting ready because she simply couldn't bear the thought of anyone living in this much filth. And she would come back the next day, armed with a mop and cleaning products. She wouldn't do everything, she would force him to do his part. But she could help. "And you say that but, without me, you would be bored to tears. Admit it."

"Right." He snorted, walking out of the room, his sarcasm obvious but softened with some fondness. "Don't know how I even managed to survive this long without you in my life, princess."

She let the mocking comment wash over her, guessing – or hoping – that there was a hint of truth to it.

And perhaps there was because when they arrived at Finnick's house half an hour later, everyone stopped talking and gaped when they spotted Haymitch behind her.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…" he dismissed with a gruff puff, waving his hand. "I'm here. Get over it."

It was only then that she realized that, while they sent someone every year, nobody had yet managed to actually bring him back with them.

Chaff, who was apparently the self-sacrificing lamb every Christmas, stared at Haymitch who, clearly uncomfortable, dropped on an empty armchair with a sulk on his face. Then, he glanced at Effie, eyebrows rose high. "How the hell did you manage that, love?"

Effie was a bit embarrassed too now, not quite certain what to say.

"She's hotter than you and she's more annoying." Haymitch deadpanned. "It's hardly a Christmas miracle."

And yet, given the fuss, it was tantamount to one…

It was a few minutes before the spotlight moved on to other things and Peeta announced the turkey was done and they could have lunch. Haymitch took advantage of the chaos to sneak closer to her, his hand briefly wrapping around her wrist in a loose grip.

"Don't go thinking you're special, sweetheart…" he whispered.

She wasn't sure if he was teasing or warning her so she chose the easiest answer and winked. "Let's find some mistletoe later, Haymitch."

That left him adequately speechless…

But when he took a seat at the table, he was smirking.

This is the last one shot! I hoped you liked it! I won't like this whole calendar thing reminded me while I loved modern au so much haha.

On a side note, I have a crackish one-shot planned for January 1st but until then consider me on fanfic holidays, no update until then ;)

I hope you have a merry Christmas even if it's a weird one this year! Lots of love!