You shouldn't be so upset, she told herself. He's a cruel drunk, self-medicating with liquor. Maybe you shouldn't have called him a coward. She wasn't the epitome of bravery either, hiding her pain behind couture and her work. Effie Trinket was an actress, she knew about putting on a new face and playing the role she needed to. She could push the reality away and hide in the surreal for as long as she needed too. But who was he to assume she wasn't suffering?

He had no idea what it was like for her.. What she did to get here. How much she regretted parts of her life. He was a Victor with his own pain, but how was he any different from her. She was trapped in a Capitol game, just like he was. She had to do her job or be killed, he faced the very same fate. So it would seem they weren't so different after all.

Effie sat at her vanity pulling the copious numbers of pins out of her wig. Blue mascara and glitter washed down her pale cheeks. Damn him for making her make-up run off. She placed the wig on its stand and buried her face in her hands. Despite her best effort the sobs couldn't be contained in her chest. Time passed slowly on the train and soon the tears stopped but it hardly ebbed the stinging pain in her heart. Or the pit of guilt in her stomach that continued to unsettle her mind. He stripped her of her control and poise.

Staring in the mirror, she washed the Capitol from her face. Taking off the fake eyelashes, the glitter and the blue hues that covered her skin. Her blonde hair flowed freely about her shoulders. She was a natural sort of pretty under all that make-up, not that anyone besides her team of stylists would know. She was never caught without being made up from head to her perfectly painted toes. The day was over and she would not be leaving her room until morning graced the train. She couldn't face Haymitch with civility and she was not going to bring herself to his level again.

Off came the restrictive heels, skirt and blouse. The soft clink of jewelry was heard hitting the porcelain tray she set it on every night. She wrapped herself in a fine silk robe and retreated to the shower.

Haymitch sat outside her door for hours, listening. She cried for so long and even for a hardened old drunk, he had to admit he felt bad now. He exchanged the booze for black coffee in effort to talk to her when he was more man than alcohol. But what could he do? If he knocked she wouldn't answer. She'd tell him to go away, she certainly would hear him out.

So just go in, walk in there and don't give her the option to tell you no. But… what if she was asleep? What would she be less angry at him for waking her or seeing her cry? He weighed the options and got to his feet.

He pushed the door open and walked in, not at all surprised at the appalling femininity of her train suit. Lace…Silk… Pink… Ivory… Everywhere. "Trink… uh.. Effie I.." He started but was met with a terrified shriek.

"What are you doing! Get out! You fool, don't you knock!" Effie was clad in a little silk robe and her skin was pleasantly pink from a hot shower. Her hair was wet, and well wouldn't you know it, she wasn't wearing make-up. She looked different. Haymitch couldn't stop looking.

Effie folded her arms in front of her chest and stared at him indignantly. "What do you think you are doing! I could have been naked! Where are your manners! Oh, I forgot you lack almost all of them."

"Oh can it, Eff's you haven't got anything I haven't seen before." He grinned and watched her puff up and fight for something to say to him.

"Get out, Haymitch! You've done enough for one day. I'm tired and I'd like to spend some time away from you." She looked defeated and there was that sadness in her eyes, right next to the redness from crying. He rubbed the back of his head and lowered his eyes.

"I'm sorry." He said after a short minute. "I heard you crying.."

Effie pursed her lips and looked at him, he seemed uncomfortable and lost. She could smell the coffee on him.. For once he drank something other than booze. "So now your eavesdropping by my door? You know Haymitch, it takes all I have to do what I do with a smile on my face. I'm tired and I'd like what little privacy I have right now without you invading on it."

He deserved her pushing him away, "I was wrong to play that card against you." He had to keep trying, maybe she would see he was trying to be sincere. Sincerity, that being a trait that didn't come easy for him at all.

"What card?" she brushed a hand across her face, collecting some of the moisture dewing on her skin. Why was he suddenly like this? So… likeable and dare say it.. cute? He was like a little kid struggling for the right thing to say to her. Stop it.. Stop it Effie.. You're mad at him.

He leaned against the door frame, "Assuming that you don't know what it's like to suffer. You might not know what it's like to starve but I failed to realize that the Capitol might have similar holds on you, like the ones that have on me." He glanced up at her. "I'm sorry, clearly you are suffering and I hurt you needlessly."

What the hell was going on with him. "Are you serious right now?" She looked confused. "You are the world's most difficult person to work with and now you're being nice to me.. Why did you wait so long to act like a decent human being."

He laughed, "You aren't such a likeable ray of sunshine all the time either, Princess."

She placed her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at him. He took another look at her, that robe was awfully short. "I like structure and schedules, what of it." She admitted.

"Bossy."

Effie gasped, "I take pride in my appearance, that's not bad!"

"Capitol peacock."

"You're rude!" She snapped.

"Annoying."

"Mannerless!" She rounded on him.

"Exhausting."

"Insufferable!" she said loudly and clasped her hands over her mouth, not meaning to yell. He was stuck somewhere between playful and crass, and it was… endearing. "I'm going back to my bathroom… When I return… I want to be left alone." She said firmly and hurried into the bathroom. The door slid shut behind her and she shut her eyes, daring to smile. What had gotten into him. Haymitch Abernathy had a nice streak? Who would have thought that.

She waited a few minutes and peeked her head out of the bathroom, "If I stay here does that mean you'll stay in that bathroom forever?" Haymitch smirked from his perch on her bed.

"Haymitch! Get out!" Effie whined and charged at him with a pillow.

"I'm so afraid…" He teased and got up, being chased by a harmless Effie Trinket armed with a pillow. He opened the door to leave and turned back toward her. "Effie?"

She sighed breathlessly and looked at him, "What Haymitch.."

"Nice legs, Princess." He grinned contemptuously.

Effie gasped and flung the pillow at him as he shut the door. Effie massaged her temples and shut her eyes. Dealing with him was exhausting and now he was so different. He was mildly likeable and enjoyable when not stumbling drunk. It brought a smile to her lips. Haymitch Abernathy had some likeable human qualities? Has hell frozen over?