Disclaimer – I own nothing.

Couldn't help but add a little extra from Effie's point of view.

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She hated him. He had always been the blight in her otherwise perfect existence. She had always loved her home, her city, her fashions. Then had come the day she had begun her new life as a champion escort.

Everyone she knew had been jealous and she had been so happy. Then she had met Haymitch.

Years passed, and she watched child after child die. She was thankful that she only had contact with them for a few short weeks. She didn't have a chance to form an attachment. When they died, which was always the case, she threw herself back into her social life, her friends and her clothes, leaving Haymitch alone for another year with his bottle.

This time was different though. They were alive. They had won. She had won. She would no longer bare the ridicule of having been assigned the coal district. She was the escort to the girl on fire.

She hadn't realised what had happened until her back had hit the wall. Even then she couldn't bring herself to stop.

It was sloppy, undignified and rushed. Everything Effie Trinket was not, but she somehow found herself wrapping her legs round him and pulling him even closer.

She came to her senses the moment he pulled away. Both breathing heavily, she adjusted her clothes with embarrassment.

She had always been famous for her meticulous time keeping and now she was thankful. It gave her an excuse to escape.

'We will be expected downstairs'. She felt pride in how steady her voice had been. The only clue to the emotions simmering underneath was the irrepressible shake in her hands.

She blushed under her makeup as she took in her smudged lipstick in her small compact.

As the lift doors closed on Haymitch's abashed face she quickly set to work. By the time she reached the ground floor her make-up was reapplied, like it had never happened. Like nothing had happened.

As the doors opened, she plastered on a smile for the reporters and reminded herself how much she hated that man.

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