A.N. First off, I owe Alice an apology. I know I said about 4 days and I know it's taken longer unfortunately I had quite a lot of homework to do over my break and it just got in the way. Second, I made a plan to update at the beginning of every month and that got thrown off a little bit this month but I'm still hoping to be able to update at the beginning of April. I'm going to start the Games in this chapter just because I want to get this started. If you like (and even if you don't) please read and review. And as always, enjoy.

P.S. This chapter is barely edited, I wanted to get it up before bed. I'll go over it later so please don't grammar Nazi me too much. If you want to complain do so about the suckish filler chapterish nature.

Haymitch had been wrong.

There was no hope.

That fun little realization (not that it was something new to him) had come to him shortly after the Games had started. The bloodbath had been for the most part uneventful even though Katniss had gone against what he'd told her and ran directly towards the cornucopia. The training sessions had gone as well as to be expected but although they had been frustrating Haymitch had kept his promise. Either way something seemed to be working because not only had the girl scored unbelievably high with the game makers she also seemed to be unusually popular within the Capitol. Something that could be very useful later on.

Effie on the other hand, was driving him insane. It was like the woman was made out of stupid questions. Normally, he would just drink himself to the point where it didn't matter but with that option no longer available he just had to sit and try not to kill her.

"Sweetheart it doesn't matter why he made a pact with the careers."

"Of course it matters!" she huffed, "He must be planning something."

"Or he's looking out for number one."

Effie shot a glare at him that he ignored, his eyes trained on the screen.

"That's not true Haymitch. Maybe if you had paid more attention to him you would know that."

Haymitch rolled his eyes; it annoyed him mostly because there was truth in what she said. He hadn't paid too much attention to Peeta because he had been convinced that Katniss had been the one who'd needed the help. Peeta had seemed to have everything under control from the time the train had pulled into the Capitol. Truth be told Haymitch had no idea what the kid was doing with the careers but he could only hope that he knew what he was doing.

A scream brought their attention back to the Games and Haymitch closed his eyes as another kid was killed in the arena. Lighting a fire at night? He hadn't thought anyone was that stupid. Pinching the bridge of his nose Haymitch let out a long breath. For the first time since he'd seen the shrink he actually wished that he was back in Pilfer's office. Even though the guy was an ass there was something oddly comforting about the session they'd had.

"Well," Haymitch started. "Night Trinket."

As Effie murmured a 'good night Haymitch' back at him he made his way to his room even though he knew there was no way that he was going to get any sleep. Not with that kid's screams still ringing in his ears.

Closing the door behind him he glanced over at the washroom and briefly considered the merits of a shower and a shave. It wasn't that he particularly wanted to but if he wasn't going to sleep he may as well do something productive. Kicking his shoes off and placing his flask on the dresser he padded into the bathroom and flicked on the light. Squinting he pushed the dimmer switch down a couple of notches, had the lights always been that bright? Sure they'd been bright when he was hung over but so was a candle.

Shrugging off his clothes he got into the shower, the hot water and the wash-rinse-repeat routine helping him to clear his mind. Stepping out he toweled his hair and pulled on his boxers and a robe, there wasn't a point in getting fully dressed again and he didn't want to make the effort anyways. On impulse he pulled a brush through his hair, which was longer than he would have like it to be but he hadn't exactly had to chance to get a haircut with the Games, court ordered sobriety, and therapy.

Haymitch was roused out of his thought by a loud crash in the hallway. Pulling on some slippers he opened the door to see Effie Trinket hunched over one of the side tables and a vase on the ground. Well…at least he assumed it had been a vase there were too many pieces for him to count.

"Trinket?" he questioned.

The only thing he got in response was a hiccup which only served to confuse him further. Either Effie Trinket had a case of the hiccups or she was…drunk?

"Effie?" he tried again.

This time she looked up at him and Haymitch almost recoiled. He'd never seen her look so bad. Her makeup was smudged – which was uncharacteristic of smudge-proof makeup – and he wig was slightly off centered. That added to the fact that she had the biggest grin he'd ever seen and eyes that were just too glassy for normal proved she to him that she was drunk.

"Haymitch," she purred. "You're wet."

He nodded slowly, "Um…yeah. Tends to happen when I shower. Listen, Effie are you drunk?"

She straightened herself, something that proved to be difficult as it appeared that she'd broken a heel somewhere between where they'd been watching television and his living compartment. Placing a hand on the wall to steady herself Effie seemed to have no inclination whatsoever for self-preservation as she just continued to giggle.

Rolling his eyes he walked over, careful not to step on any broken vase and took Effie by the elbow, pulling her over to his room.

"No! Haymitch let me go!"

Her voice almost made him do so. He could have sworn that Effie sounded…scared. Opening the door he let her go as soon as they were both in and closed the door behind them. No doubt the avoxes would be along soon to clean up the mess and the last thing Effie needed was the news getting out that she'd drunk herself silly. Not to mention if it did get out Effie would never forgive him even if it wasn't his fault.

He chuckled, "Well sweetheart you want to tell me what drove you to get pissed out of your…Effie?"

He'd started talking before he had turned around and now that he had he wished he hadn't done so. She was crying.

Effie drinking was crying.

She'd taken off her wig too, he noted absently. Her blonde hair was held up on top of her head by the multitude of pins she used to keep it under her wig. All he could do was stare at her, he hadn't the slightest idea about what to do with a crying woman.

He rubbed the back of his neck, "If it's about your heels, you can buy new ones you know."

That made her laugh, something for which Haymitch was grateful for. At least if she was laughing.

Shuffling from one foot to another Haymitch felt strangely awkward. Which was strange because he'd never felt awkward around the escort before. Annoyed, and angered yes but never awkward.

"So…" he tried again, "You gonna tell me why you're drunk and crying in my quarters?"

"You should leave the therapy to your doctor Haymitch." Effie all but snapped at him making Haymitch raise an eyebrow.

"You should be in your own damn quarters dreaming about shoes or something and you're not so start talking Trinket."

Effie glared at him for a moment before getting to her feet (when had she taken her shoes off?) and stalked over to him. Without the heels she was significantly shorter which would have made him laugh under different circumstances.

"And whose fault is that?" she demanded, sobering quickly.

Haymitch laughed and shook his head. 'Oh no. You are not blaming this on me. I'm not drinking remember, it's not like someone held a gun to your head and forced the liquor down your neck."

"What else am I going to do?" She challenged, "It's not like I can sleep because every time I do I dream of you finding another creative way to kill me!"

He blanched, "Effie it was an accident – "

"It doesn't matter Haymitch! You still did it and now I have to live with it!"

"You think you're the only one?" He countered. "I have to live with it too Effie, you think I like having this over my head? If you had just stayed away none of this would have happened."

The slap was a sharp sound in an otherwise quiet room.

"Don't you dare." Her fists were clenched at her sides. "Don't you dare Haymitch Abernathy. I went to you that night because I was worried. I wanted to see if you were alright. I did not deserve this. Don't you dare blame this on me."

After she was done they both stared at each other, breathing heavily from the intensity of the argument.

"I should go." She said finally.

He nodded slowly, "Probably."

Neither moved as another moment went by and Haymitch began to wonder if made she wasn't as sober as she'd seemed. She definitely wasn't 'sober' by any means but at least he wasn't worried about her knocking over some more vases on her way make to her own compartment.

"I don't really blame you." Her voice was barely above a whisper but in the quiet room Haymitch heard every word.

"You should."

"You were having a nightmare Haymitch – "

He shook his head, "Doesn't matter though does it? Still my knife and your stomach."

Effie sighed, "I know…I..I just thought that you should hear that."

There was another moment of silence and Haymitch just chalked up the whole awkwardness to the fact that he was tired and she was drunk. Although, this had to be one of the longest conversations they'd ever had, not that they usually had anything to talk about usually.

Haymitch grinned, "So…if you're not sleeping and I'm not sleeping where does that leave us?"

Effie gasped, "Haymitch!

Haymitch simply grinned, it was good to have some levity back between them. Everything was already so serious with the Games and they'd only just finished day one which meant there was still a lot to get through assuming his tributes lived through the night.

Gathering up her shoes with only a hint of a stagger, Effie brushed pat him on her way to the door. He stopped her when he heard it open.

"Don't step on the glass."

He could almost feel her blush even if he wasn't looking at her, Effie was too proud to do anything other than huff and shut the door behind her. After she'd gone Haymitch sighed and grabbed his flask off the dresser taking a large drink from the thing. Although not as satisfying as alcohol it did help him to think clearer at times.

Collapsing onto the bed Haymitch stared up at the ceiling. For such an extravagant room he would have thought the Capitol could have come up with a better colour than white. Shifting on the bed he pulled something out from underneath him and smirked when he produced Effie's discarded wig. She was going to be annoyed with him; he already knew that he leaving him at his place was going to end up being his fault.

"Stupid Capitol brat" he mumbled as he rolled onto his side placing the wig on the pillow next to him. He may have not been able to sleep but he could sure as hell try.

A.N. Not even going to lie. I really didn't like this chapter…I just didn't have any good ideas I just knew I needed to break down the barrier between Haymitch and Effie. Hopefully now they can get closer together and have some interesting things happen along the way.

Oh yeah, and if you could keep a friend of mine in your prayers. She's going through an incredibly hard time right now [I don't know how much she wants people to know so I won't go into specifics]. But if you could keep her in your hearts I'm sure she'd appreciate it.