Chapter Twenty; History

(Seneca's POV)

Seneca climbed the stairs feeling rather pleased with himself.

He hadn't been lying. He had taken quite a liking to Stephanie and regrettable as it might be to kill her, she was afterall, only a tribute.

To find out that Haymitch Abernathy of all people was her mentor had sweetened the bitter medicine so to speak. The Gamemaker entered the hall once more, without his headache and a smug smile.

…

(Haymitch's POV)

Haymitch remained holding Stephanie tightly.

Of all the people, why him? Haymitch thought bitterly as he slowly released Stephanie from his arms. Haymitch couldn't help feeling even more protective over Stephanie now as the thought entered his head of how he had already sealed her fate now that Seneca knew he was her mentor.

"We better head back up," Haymitch said, once more offering her his arm.

…

(Stephanie's POV)

Stephanie entered the vast room once more with Haymitch. The party was really in full swing now. Music was loud and the lights were even lower.

Stephanie could just make out Dess dancing with the tribute in the long pink dress. Glancing over she saw Frenkin surrounded by a couple of women fawning over him.

They descended the stairs and Haymitch handed her another glass of champagne. She stared at him incredulous.

"You have got to be joking!" she exclaimed.

"I don't mean for you to drink it sweetheart. It will stop others from offering you a glass."

She accepted the champagne, twirling the stem of the crystal glass between her fingers as she stared at it distrusting.

Haymitch immediately led her to another group of people where pleasantries were exchanged and Haymitch promoted her. Stephanie couldn't help but feel completely mortified as Haymitch blatantly exaggerated her non-existent talents while she was right there. However after another re-run with another group and then another and then another, the embarrassment wore off to be replaced with something like boredom.

Finally they stopped at one of the tables and setting the still full glass down on it, Stephanie walked out onto a nearby balcony, welcoming the cool night's breeze.

She had never felt so exhausted in her entire life and walking had never been so painful. Leaning on the rail she slipped the shoes discreetly from her feet as Haymitch joined her.

Haymitch was looking below at the city. He was unusually quiet and looked pensive.

"So…" Stephanie began.

His grey gaze snapped up to meet her.

"What was that with you and Seneca Crane?" she continued determinedly.

"It doesn't matter Stephanie," he answered quietly.

She had a feeling that it mattered a lot and was about to beat Haymitch if necessary to get the answer out of him.

New music started up inside and a smirk began to play on Haymitch's lips.

"What?" she asked suspiciously, nudging him.

He gave a small laugh and turned to her.

"Want to dance sweetheart?"

She laughed then outright, forgetting all about previous worries for a moment, before facing him. "Why not," she answered, slipping somewhat regretfully back into her heels.

He led her back into the room, her hand fitted securely in his.

Suddenly, just as he was about to move another step, she hauled him back by the hand.

"Sweetheart, that isn't dancing," he said eyeing her curiously.

"I just remembered something," she replied panicked as people began to start to dance to the music.

"What?"

"I can't dance," she hissed.

Haymitch smirked and she dealt him a swift punch to the shoulder before pretending to smooth his jacket to cover it up for the cameras.

"Just follow me," he attempted to move again but she pulled him back.

"I can't."

"Sweetheart, trust me…Stephanie."

She met his eyes for a moment and then nodded mutely.

A few moments later and she was dancing; well as best she could in heels.

"Now see, is this so bad?" Haymitch teased as he almost practically held her up.

Stephanie pretended to look displeased before answering him. "No," she conceded.

"I told you this party would be alright…after the initial shaky start," he commented and he twirled her gently.

"Shut up and just don't drop me," she said with a laugh.

"Well sorry sweetheart, but I'm having to half-drag you across the floor and pretend it's dancing."

Stephanie looked horrified. "Please don't tell me it is as bad as that!"

Now Haymitch laughed and she couldn't help but laugh with him.

"No, no it's not sweetheart," he said after a moment.

Stephanie gave him a grateful smile.

"Have you really never danced before?"

"No," she admitted with a frown. "It wasn't exactly a priority back home," she said, nudging his shoulder slightly in annoyance.

"Hey!" he squeezed her waist tightly. "How come you always end up attacking me?"

"Attacking? That's a bit far."

"Fine, fine. Physically assaulting me in some manner."

"You always seem to go out of your way to annoy me."

"Well I suppose I can't complain."

"What?"

"The attacks got less and I got a kiss instead."

She glanced up at him through lowered lashes and felt her cheeks burn up. This is new, she thought. Of all the things she had felt in Haymitch's company, shy embarrassment hadn't been one of them. She opened her mouth to reply.

"Abernathy, mind if I cut in?"

Both Stephanie and Haymitch turned to face the direction of the voice.

Seneca Crane.

Haymitch's grip on Stephanie tightened ever so slightly and his jaw set rigidly.

"Come on Abernathy. Do you really want to make a scene?" Seneca asked smoothly.

Stephanie eased herself from Haymitch's grasp. He didn't exactly make a move to stop her but he didn't release her willingly either.

Seneca smirked.

"What?" Seneca demanded, when he and Stephanie had been dancing for a few moments and all she had done was scowl at him silently.

"Oh I'm sorry. Was I meant to strike up a conversation?" she asked sarcastically.

"You do know I am the Head Gamemaker?" he asked, clearly unperturbed by her sarcasm.

"Would you like a medal?" she bit back.

He gave a short laugh until suddenly she stepped on his foot.

He frowned at her.

"Ever so sorry," she said sweetly.

"You are ever so amusing," Seneca said.

Stephanie grinded her teeth together in annoyance.

"What is your problem with Haymitch?"

Seneca's cool façade faltered and his icy blue eyes trembled for a few moments.

"Let's just say history…past grievances," he finally said, and his voice was unusually quiet.

The music stopped and a smug smirk returned to Seneca's lips. With his finely styled beard and sleek, jet-black hair accompanied with icy, blue eyes he was the perfect Capitol gentleman.

"Well Miss Trindlesworth…Stephanie, I am sure we will be seeing more of one another before long," he said smoothly.

Out of the corner of her eye Stephanie saw Haymitch approaching them.

She barely registered his movement before Seneca had placed a cool, chaste kiss on her cheek and then stalked off with a short laugh in the opposite direction.

Haymitch reached her and looked at her with concerned eyes.

"That's it Haymitch! You are telling me what the deal is?!" Stephanie demanded angrily.

Haymitch dragged her off by the elbow onto one of the secluded balconies.

"I am being used as a pawn in some game that involves you and Seneca. He is using me to get back at you! What is it that happened?" Stephanie demanded.

Haymitch glanced up at her, already protests forming in his eyes.

Stephanie shook her head vehemently. "You tell me now Haymitch."