DOUBLE UPDATE!

Chapter One-Hundred-and-Forty-Four; Flickering Flame

"What about my dignity?!" Stephanie screeched.

"You have none for tonight," Electra replied simply, from across the kitchen table.

Stephanie scowled, "I damn well do," she muttered stubbornly.

Electra fixed her with a deadpan look, "would you like me to bury your precious dignity in the grave beside you when I'm finished with you?"

Stephanie gritted in teeth in poorly kept patience.

"Tonight I want scandal to become your middle name!" Electra reinforced again.

"I'm not doing it," Stephanie muttered, folding her arms resolutely.

"Which idea are you particularly adverse to?" Electra asked in a dangerously level voice.

"All of them."

Electra's eyes narrowed marginally.

"What?" Stephanie snapped suspiciously when Electra remained silent.

Electra made a humming contemplative noise. "Oh nothing," she said breezily. "I'm just conjuring up the image of what Haymitch did to his room to remind myself why I can't kill you right now."

Stephanie groaned as she dropped her head into her hands, elbows balanced on the surface of the table.

"Did Haymitch find you this difficult?" Electra said suddenly.

Stephanie snapped her head up and Electra spoke over anything she might have been about to say, waving a hand dismissively.

"Never mind," Electra murmured with a slight smirk, "I'm sure you more than made up for it in other ways."

Stephanie scowled at the blue-haired woman across the table.

"Are you always like this?" Stephanie queried.

"What? – Delightful? Simply magical company? – Yes, always," Electra immediately replied, her smirk widening.

"I was thinking more along the lines of annoying," Stephanie countered sardonically.

"That's funny," Electra remarked with a grin, "so was I – only for you."

Stephanie pushed her chair away from the table, readying to stomp to her room. A little petulant she conceded, but she never had good patience and she would feel guilty about punching Electra in the face she knew.

"We have to come to some compromise," Electra called after her.

Stephanie stalled a few steps away from the table. The problem with her and Electra trying to work together was, as Stephanie was coming to learn, they were both short-tempered and blunt. The exact opposite required for a compromise that needed patience and tact to be successful.

But with a weary sigh Stephanie also recognised; that as impossible as it seemed to work with Electra, she had to. Haymitch was no longer an option.

"Fine," Stephanie murmured as she trudged back to the table resignedly.

"Good," Electra said calmly. "Now I have said the same thing to Haymitch. This is the Hunger Games where no morality exists. There isn't right or wrong."

"I can't live like that," Stephanie said quietly.

Electra sighed heavily, "you don't have a choice," she replied softly.

Stephanie rested her head against her hand heavily.

"Stephanie you talk to Frenkin every day, you comfort and cuddle him like your kid brother and you tuck him every night – yes?"

Stephanie blinked dumbly as she nodded.

"Do you ever mention the fact that Frenkin will be dead soon at any of those times?" Electra asked bluntly.

Stephanie stood from the table again, but she didn't vault from the kitchen.

She went to the bottle and glasses Electra had abandoned on the countertop and pouring herself a brimming glassful of the strong liquor, she knocked it back in one go.

Electra's voice continued speaking even as Stephanie felt the whiskey burn a path of fire down her throat until it reached her stomach. Stephanie felt like retching but she reached again and with unsteady fingers poured another glass.

A sharp shooting pain she had never felt before was lancing through her chest and Stephanie was sure it was an actual physical one and not imagined.

"You don't mention the fact that Frenkin will be dead because you couldn't live like that. You know it's true, it's always there in the back of your head, yet you never mention it – You just have to do that with everything else as well. Your pride, dignity; you push it away and it can hate what you're doing but you just keep telling yourself it's what you need to do to survive. It's the same thing you tell yourself when you tuck Frenkin in at night and you refuse to admit that one day soon Frenkin won't wake up again."

Tears smarted at Stephanie's eyes as the truth of Electra's words burnt as harshly and as hotly as the whiskey as she knocked back another glass.

Haymitch and Electra had found oblivion so many times in the bottom of a bottle; why couldn't she?

Couldn't Electra see her heart was already tearing itself to pieces over Haymitch?! – Why did Electra have to be so cruel and remind her she would lose Frenkin as well! That the little surrogate family she had built here in the Capitol would soon be ripped to shreds.

Stephanie reached for the half-empty bottle again, her fingers brushed the glass neck of it before it was swiftly swiped from her grasp and placed out of her reach.

Strong arms surrounded her as Stephanie turned and buried her head in Haymitch's shoulder instinctively.

"Barely an hour in your company and you're already driving her to drink," Haymitch remarked sardonically over Stephanie's head.

Stephanie breathed in the comforting clean scent of Haymitch as she twisted the material of his top tighter within her fingers.

And a shudder of relief trembled through her body as she felt Haymitch hold her closer in response. His lips brushed against the top of her head just like he used to.

"You're better than that," Haymitch murmured against her temple and Stephanie felt her throat constrict with emotion until it was impossible to reply.

Reluctantly Stephanie leaned back when she felt Haymitch lessening his grip, but still Stephanie refused to move away from him. Her whole body ached at the very notion of leaving the comfort of Haymitch's arms.

She looked up at Haymitch as she drew back, tears wet on her cheeks.

"Please, Haymitch…" Stephanie pleaded, having no idea what she was asking for.

Haymitch's eyes were like striking flint, sparking with fire as he leaned forward.

Stephanie's heart hammered almost painfully in her chest. Haymitch's lips smoothed across her cheek, brushing away her tears and Stephanie felt her eyes slip shut as the rough stubble of Haymitch's jaw grazed her cheek.

Stephanie's grip on Haymitch then grew almost painful as he leaned back, his eyes burning.

"Damn, if I knew all it took was to introduce her to whiskey to get you two back together – I would have done it a lot sooner!" Electra's voice sounded behind them and Stephanie swallowed as she looked over Haymitch's shoulder, her grip lessening.

She had already seen the answer in Haymitch's eyes.

"We're not back together Ellen," Stephanie said sadly, her voice pained.

Haymitch's grip on her waist tightened for a brief moment. He had his back to Electra and Stephanie felt his weighted sigh tingle against the skin of her throat as he dropped his head at Stephanie's words.

Electra frowned at Stephanie, as she fixed her with a deadpan stare. "So what am I blind now?" Electra said sardonically, gesturing to the scene before her.

"Ellen don't push things," Haymitch said gruffly as without warning he suddenly left Stephanie's arms, moving to the counter behind them.

Stephanie felt a coldness and emptiness settle over her then that she was sure chilled her very bones.

She heard as Haymitch replaced the top to the bottle of whiskey and returned it to the cupboard.

Electra rolled her eyes as she turned around in her seat back to the table. "Fine then, I'll try vodka next time," she mumbled under her breath.

"What was happening anyway?" Haymitch asked as he moved back around to stand near Stephanie, but never as close as he once did.

Stephanie wrapped her arms around her torso trying to ward off the chilled feeling.

"I was just talking about strategies for tonight's party," Electra said casually as her gaze perused the lists of guests she had acquired in front of her.

Stephanie scoffed lightly at Electra's vague explanation and Haymitch sketched a knowing brow.

Electra shrugged, realising that she was being waited on for further explanation.

"I was just tossing about a few ideas," Electra elaborated flippantly. "Like if she were to arrive a little late for the party, you know – bedroom hair, ruffled dress, smudged make-up etc; it would be quite the entrance and would steal a lot of the attention early on. Gossip would be spreading like wildfire. Looking at these lists - Kad, that very prolific Capitol reporter will be there."

Haymitch was quiet for a long moment as Stephanie looked to him expectantly.

"If you tell her it's a good idea, I'm going to kill you," Stephanie murmured.

Haymitch looked to her and then suddenly they were smiling. It hurt like hell Stephanie realised, to be so casual with Haymitch like this, like she used to be, but it hurt even more to not be near him at all.

"Electra, if sweetheart here arrived like that, the only thing it would seem like would be that she had fallen down the stairs in her heels on the way to the party."

Electra smirked as a faint blush rose to Stephanie's cheeks, even as she laughed.

Electra sighed then, leaning back in her chair forcibly. "Well Haymitch you're needed then. Because Stephanie and I are either going to kill one another or drive each other to drink – possibly both."

Stephanie smirked ruefully as Electra winked at her slyly.

Haymitch visibly hesitated though and Stephanie swallowed the sudden lump in her throat as she turned to Haymitch.

"It's okay Haymitch; you don't have to," Stephanie said softly, unable to drag her gaze upwards to meet his eyes.

"Stephanie!" Haymitch said sharply and Stephanie's gaze snapped to his in surprise.

"Stephanie just because things between us…"Haymitch trailed off running a hand through his hair jerkily, "damn it! Do you really think I wouldn't help you, that I'd want you to die or something? – Stephanie you know I still…" His words trailed off, but Stephanie's heart thundered in her ears as she easily read what Haymitch was going to say in his storm-cloud eyes.

I still love you…

Stephanie smiled softly and she nodded, saying what she couldn't without words.

Me too.

The ensuing fragile quiet was shattered by Electra in the next moment though.

"I feel like an elephant in the room. Either sit down or take it to the bedroom," she muttered sarcastically from the table as her eyes scanned down the lists in her hands again.

Stephanie flushed slightly as she threw Electra an exasperated glance. But all the same she and Haymitch both sat down at the table.

Despite the fact that Stephanie's heart still panged to have Haymitch so close by her and not able to reach out and touch him, her heartbreak had most definitely ebbed.

She and Haymitch still loved one another. And even though she had been sure of that, it reconciled her more than words could ever describe to be reminded of the fact.

Things were difficult, circumstances were trying. But she no longer felt the cold, definite end she had envisioned before. Instead a tiny flicker, a burgeoning flame of hope was building again in her chest. The chill in her bones was been bravely warded off by the quivering flame in her heart. And for now that would be enough.

Haymitch was alive and as safe as he could be, here at her side. And he still loved her. Stephanie had to cling to those two facts.

She couldn't push him, like she had done before. She had to give him time to breathe. To almost give him the space to rebuild the defences she had broken down by expecting too much from him.

Electra slid the list across the table towards Haymitch.

"Do you have any contacts on that?" Electra asked him, as she clicked her pen against the table.

Stephanie's gaze lingered on Haymitch as his eyes flicked down the list speedily.

His appearance was slightly scruffy, like it had been that first night when she had kissed him. It made Stephanie's heart swell with another wave of love for the grey-eyed man sitting beside her.

Stephanie flexed her fingers against the table, resisting the urge to reach across and lightly trace the healing bruises shadowing his cheekbone.

She refused to think of how Haymitch had gotten the bruises. She pushed the blue-eyed Gamemaker far away from her thoughts as she sat here and now beside Haymitch.

Seneca had wedged himself between Stephanie and Haymitch at the racetracks without even being in the room with them. In fact, Stephanie realised; everytime Seneca had been mentioned, it was like inviting the blue-eyed man into the room, like dredging up a spiteful ghost from the past. She was determined that it would never happen again.

Stephanie realised that without her knowledge she had changed in the Capitol as well, and it took Haymitch to end things with her for Stephanie to finally find her own feet.

Beforehand she would never know what to keep from Haymitch. She relied on him implicitly which was why she told him every single thing. She could see how his eyes burned in torture as Stephanie would detail everything Seneca had done this time or that time. Details Stephanie could have kept from him, but she didn't, because Stephanie had decided a while back she didn't possess the skill to be able to discern what to tell and what not to tell Haymitch.

But suddenly finding herself thrust onto her own two feet, Stephanie felt a gaining of independence that she had mentioned to Electra when she had been demanding answers.

Haymitch hadn't asked – as he normally would – how her 'date with Dan' had gone. And Stephanie recognised now; she wouldn't tell him how it went. If he asked she would only say that the scan had been successful, results were still impending and that he didn't need to worry.

She would bear anything otherwise herself. She wasn't a little girl to go running to Haymitch with every problem.

And Seneca was something she could deal with herself, Stephanie resolved.

She wouldn't mention him to Haymitch allowing the blue-eyed Gamemaker to wedge himself between them with every word.

There was hope still and Stephanie was determined to protect the small flickering flame of hope that had sparked from the ashes of her despair, with everything that she had.

Stephanie's gaze shifted lower as she watched Haymitch hand the page back to Electra. "A few," he murmured in reply to Electra's earlier question.

Stephanie frowned suddenly, unable to help her arm shooting out instinctively.

"What happened to your hands?" Stephanie demanded worriedly. Her mind was already throwing up scenes where Haymitch had to fight off anti-District supporters when he had been out on the streets during Slena's public trial.

She cradled Haymitch's nearest hand to hers gingerly, as she eyed the once more ripped knuckles.

"He got them beating his room to a pulp after ending things with you," Electra answered distractedly as she marked things down on the paper in front of her.

"Ellen!" Haymitch said in reprimand.

Stephanie swallowed as she continued to hold Haymitch's hand within hers. She swiped her thumb across the back of his hand soothingly, keeping her gaze trained on the bloodied skin.

She could feel Haymitch's gaze on her but she didn't look up.

"I'll get the first aid kit," Stephanie murmured instead as she got to her feet.

Innately her hand ghosted across Haymitch's shoulders as she passed him and almost as instinctively the tenseness in Haymitch, caused by Electra's words, immediately eased at the familiar action.

Stephanie fetched the first aid kit from the cupboard bringing it back over to the table as she retook her seat.

She held out her hand, palm up waiting for Haymitch to place his in hers. She was also giving him the option to refuse.

There was a beat of a moment and then Haymitch relented. Stephanie squeezed his hand gently as she tugged it towards her, antiseptic wipe in hand to dab at the cuts gingerly.

"No mummifying this time sweetheart," Haymitch muttered and Stephanie sniggered, feeling Haymitch squeeze her hand back.

She remembered explicitly the night he was referencing. The night he had come home beaten to a pulp by that guard, and Stephanie had bandaged him up rather badly. She had slept that night in his arms, promising herself she would never let this happen to him again.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like me to leave?" Electra interrupted bluntly, as she raised her brows emphatically at them across the table.

Stephanie and Haymitch glanced at one another briefly before Stephanie dropped her gaze to Haymitch's hand within hers and returned to cleaning the cuts.

Haymitch cleared his throat, "go on with what you were saying Ellen."

Electra rolled her eyes but continued anyway.

"I was saying how is Stephanie going to get the attention of the Capitol at this party?" Electra said.

Stephanie discarded the wipe as she rummaged through the first aid kit for the spray she had used on Electra's head that dealt with minor cuts.

"I already have it," Stephanie muttered bitterly as she fished out the needed canister. "What with Slena attacking me last time."

Stephanie could have sworn she felt Haymitch's fingers squeeze hers for a moment as Electra scoffed.

"No. Correction." Electra began derisively. "The attention won't be fixed on you; you were the victim not the attacker. And as I keep reminding you both, this is the Hunger Games, where the Capitol only ever remembers the victors. The attention will be fixed on Slena."

Stephanie's head snapped up at that, as her eyes widened.

"Will Slena be attending?"

"Why are you worried she'll attack you again?" Electra countered and Stephanie couldn't quite tell if she was smirking or not.

However before she could reply Haymitch spoke. "No, Slena won't be at the party," he reassured her.

Electra shook her head as she laced her fingers together under her chin. "District 4 really took a nosedive this year," she remarked casually, watching as Stephanie applied the ointment to Haymitch's hands.

Stephanie released Haymitch's hands once she had finished. Haymitch had already grumbled about her applying the medicated spray so she didn't try to push for bandages. Especially considering her attempts last time had left Haymitch with hands like boxing gloves.

Stephanie shook the canned spray at Electra, "do you need this – for your head?"

Electra shook her head in the negative. "I'm thick-skulled remember?"

Haymitch arched a brow, "have you tried to kill one another already?" he smirked.

Electra chuckled ruefully, "a little misunderstanding. It was actually Tiny Tim that made me see stars when he whacked me round the head," Electra corrected.

"Frenkin?!" Haymitch exclaimed in surprise as Stephanie retuned the items to the first aid kit.

"It was an accident," Stephanie amended even as she grinned. Her expression sobered in the next second though, as she bit the inside of her cheek worriedly.

"What will happen to Slena? - I mean what did that farce of a trial decide?" Stephanie asked bitterly.

"You seem very indignant on Slena's behalf," Electra remarked curiously, "wasn't it her that give you those bruises in the first place?"

Stephanie shook her head resolutely. "I already told you. She had no choice. I can't fault her for that. And because of Ficen she truly believed that I had killed Fas."

Electra shrugged, "if it were me, I would still be annoyed at her for attacking me," she mumbled.

"This is the Hunger Games," Stephanie echoed with a burgeoning smirk, "you can't be vindictive over every attempt to pull the camera's attention."

Electra smirked appreciatively at Stephanie, "yea, yea. Except this was a personal attack," she enforced quietly.

Stephanie's smirk faded as her gaze dropped to the table.

"I don't know what's been decided about Slena," Haymitch said, "the trial was public, but the sentencing wasn't. I suspect they are keeping it secret for suspense, for you can bet the punishment will be public."

Stephanie swallowed as she considered Haymitch's words. Capitolites had some of the most creative imaginations she knew of. She only hoped Slena's punishment wouldn't be too severe.