Nothing like a little domestic hayffie for the festive season. Happy New Year everybody!

Chapter 17
Make a home

"You're happy."

Sae had her back to him, writing today's specialties on the board but the Hob was empty this early in the day, even Ripper was at the restroom, so who else could she have meant? Haymitch stuffed the last bottle in his duffel bag and lifted it from the counter.

"Why so sure?" he asked.

Sae nodded toward his bag.

"You didn't buy as many as usual," she said but when Haymitch's eyebrows furrowed she gave his cheek an unexpected pat. "Don't worry, child. I won't tell anyone."

The bright autumn colors from Haymitch's and Effie's balloon flight were gone. Now the wind rattled the naked branches and chilled you to the bones if you so much as poked your nose out the door. If November was a miserable month elsewhere it was still nothing compared to Twelve. Their winters were always ruthless but between the cold and darkness and endless rains that turned the roads into muddy puddles now, you almost wished for the snow to fall.

As the ground released his feet with a sucking sound for each step Haymitch pondered over Sae's words. He liked to think he'd been discreet. Wasn't like he and Effie had made a big announcement. The opposite really, at least outside the Victor's Village. Just holding hands when they ran for the train back in the Capitol was something he didn't normally do and he half-regretted it afterward. Even with Snow gone, Haymitch was still reluctant to show people he cared for someone.

He saw the warm glow of the Victor's Village from afar with the bunches of brightly coloured corn affixed to the front doors.

Of course Haymitch hadn't cared to put up one in decades but Effie got very invested. She looked forward to the Harvest Festival even more than Hazelle's children and under Peeta's guidance she put together a wreath herself. And since Haymitch vetoed any Christmas decorations later on, he supposed this was what you'd call a compromise.

It was heaven to finally push inside and hear the fresh logs crackling on the hearth. She was really getting the hang of lighting her own fires. He dumped his bag somewhere in a corner and tugged off his boots on the newspapers spread out by the door.

You could always tell when Effie visited. Haymitch denied it but he did try and clean up his act somewhat when she was around these days. At least so far as to not leave the house like a complete pigsty.

"Haymitch?" Effie's voice fluttered out through the bathroom door followed by a soft splash and he knew she was sure to use up all the hot water again.

Effie smiled when he walked it. A relaxed smile. Like many mornings she was reclined in the bathtub, hair tied in a messy pony tail. He sat down on the edge and even in the hot water Effie shivered when she returned his kiss.

"Your skin is like ice."

"Course it is, sweetheart," he said. "It's rainin' cats and dogs, geese, you name it."

She kissed a raindrop from his cheek.

"Care to join me then?"

Well, he wasn't a hard sell.

He got out of his soggy clothes and lowered himself behind Effie so she could lean back against him. Water and suds spilled over the edges. Tub was brand new. Installed only two weeks ago since the old one was "simply too disgusting." Effie's words. Not his.

Not that he complained. He didn't mind sharing a bubble bath with her once or twice (or trice). In fact he'd had some of his best naps there in the warm water with his nose in her hair and safe in the knowledge Effie would keep him from accidentally drowning.

He found her hand, warm and slippery and watched their fingers move lazily against each other.

"I promised Peeta we would help out at the bakery tomorrow," Effie mumbled.

Haymitch nodded.

"Sounds fair."

He felt a little guilty where the kids were concerned. The girl flat-out refused to visit, fed up with her former mentor and escort who couldn't keep their hands from one another. Even Peeta who was more understanding and less squirmish finally said if they wanted to stay at home that was OK.

They still had dinner together almost every night but the rest of the time they were all busy in their own way. Peeta prepared for the festival, Katniss roamed the woods and Haymitch spent his days either drunk or drunk on Effie. She still had to be at work those two days a week but she always came back and always straight into his arms.

Yes, you could say he was happy. He'd almost forgotten what that feeling felt like.

Sometimes after they made love and Effie had fallen asleep in his arms he had to get up and find himself a bottle because his hands trembled uncontrollably. Not in withdrawal. No, because it was too good. All of this. And good things never lasted.

Don't you believe it, a small voice inside him repeated as he drank and drank to keep the panic attack from swallowing him whole. Don't you ever believe it. The moment you do it's gonna be all over.

"What are you thinking about?" Effie's voice was druggish from the hot water.

"Nothing," he mumbled. "Just that I love the little double chin you get when you smile."

Effie tsked.

"I do not have a double chin, you. Absolutely not."

Haymitch smiled at her indignant face and brought their joined hands closer so he could drop a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

Effie had such beautiful hands. Her arms too. He would be the first one to admit it took him ages to discover Effie Trinket was, in fact, a woman of flesh and blood underneath her scary white grin. It started with the "couch incident" but what really floored him actually happened two or three years later.

It was a real eye roll moment, really. If it'd been something like her accidentally giving him a great view of her ass at least. But her arms? That couldn't be normal.

And yet when she reached for the bowl of strawberries on the coffee table she somehow managed to leave him even more flustered than when he saw her polish herself off in her sleep and this time he couldn't hold back.

So he made this pathetic, fumbling attempt to put his arms around her.

It was the alcohol, he told himself later. The booze always made him want weird things. And he didn't get his way with her of course. Not that night or any other night in Twelve's penthouse. Effie only cringed at the smell of his breath and pushed him away.

Perhaps, he wondered sometimes. Perhaps she wouldn't have pushed him away if he wasn't so drunk. Or if she didn't have her "No getting plastered during work" policy for herself. For all he knew they could have fucked all through the Games. But then again he never tried stuff like that when he was sober.

In any case, that night was the first of many where he pulled a one-man show in the penthouse, thinking about his escort. Right after it happened, he was filled with guilt and self-loathing just like he would later in life after one of his few Capitol conquests and he promised himself it would be the last time.

It wouldn't.

How much did Effie know about all this? The walls weren't exactly soundproof. And when the prim and proper escort of District 12 jerked off: who did she think about? Not him, surely. He always teased her and said she did but let's face it. He was never in her league even when he was much younger and thinner.

Pushing that particularly depressive thought aside he dropped another kiss to her skin. Her arm this time where she was warm and soft and moist against his lips.

"Don't stop," Effie mumbled and swallowed back a soft moan when he left a trail of pecks and kisses along her arm, her upper arm, her shoulder. The rosy peaks of her breasts came visible through the bubbles and he covered one of them with his free hand. Effie's groans bounced off the tiled walls when he caressed her and she moved her head so that her lips were on his. Their tongues met in a soft duel as he kept touching her.

"I love the way you taste when you haven't had a drink in a while," Effie mumbled. Their fingers were still entwined but he felt her tug them downward ever so little and it was enough for him to know what she wanted.

She let out a small, trembling breath against his lips when he slid one of his fingers between her folds and into her warm, slick heat.

"Mm." It was such a soft sound and Haymitch smiled. He'd lie if he said he wasn't filled with pride that he could make her react this way. He was painfully hard now but he concentrated on her. He moved his fingers up and down in soft, rhythmic strokes and made sure to rub the heel of his hand against her clit until she trembled and quivered with pleasure. Her eyes were screwed shut but Haymitch's were wide opened, watching her in wonderment like the goner he was.

It was typical, really if you thought about it. So typical of Effie to be able to find a way into his heart when he'd fought so hard for so long to not let it happen.

xXx

No one missed them or needed them for that matter so once Haymitch and Effie were warm and pruney enough they retreated back to his room. Or rather: their room.

The lumpy old bed had become the heart of the house. They sat naked and cross-legged around a tray filled with breakfast fit for a king. Strong coffee and fried eggs (courtesy of the geese), butter and cream and goat cheese wrapped in basil leaves, blood-red juice, marmalade, a basket of Peeta's rolls and on top of that some raspberry muffins that were Haymitch's special favourites.

"Now don't leave crumbs on the sheets," Effie reprimanded him, which of course only made him take a gigantic bite and brush his hands off on her side of the bed. "No!" Effie called out but she laughed at the same time when he pulled her to him to plant a sticky kiss on her lips.

Yeah, he was happy. And the most shocking thing of all: Effie seemed happy too.

It was more than a little unnerving. He wasn't at all used to be a source of happiness in someone's life. He downed what was left of his blood-red juice so he couldn't tint it with the content of his silver hip flask.

It was true he bought fewer bottles than he used to. Sae was right about that. But it had more to do with the fact it brightened Effie's mood enormously, not his. Well… yeah, it did. Ultimately he got more sex.

With Effie in his life he had routines again and as hard as it was to admit it or believe it for that matter: a clean home, a few regular meals and something to look forward to, made him feel better. They slept together at least twice a day. More if he showered. He didn't think he'd ever smelled this good before. He'd even lost some weight.

Of course his sleep was still fucked up. But it was long ago since he thought the bad dreams would ever truly disappear. Some nights were easier to handle than other, that's all he could hope for. But it was definitely better to wake up in Effie's embrace than alone.

Her nightmares weren't gone either, although her sleep had gotten somewhat better since she told him about Alexander. It wasn't until after she truly opened up about it all that he realized she had kept it from him all this time not only because of the pain of losing her son but for fear he, Haymitch, would forever hate her if he knew the truth about her and Kane; on top of her being a Games escort.

Now when they'd talked about it, not only that night but since, she slept sounder. But there were still nights when she woke screaming and he had to calm her down and tell her she was here, with him and not back with her torturers. Nights when he held her as she sobbed. And he certainly was no picnic for her when it was bad.

But they saw each other through the night. Made each other better.

"Oh, before I forget," said Effie suddenly and placed her coffee cup back on the tray. "The very thought," she chuckled next, as if the prospect of her forgetting something was absolutely silly. She got out a book from her bag and handed it to him. "They got it in just the other day," she said. "You will probably have the other two within the week."

"Thanks," he said and Effie re-joined him on the bed. When he saw her reach for her newspaper he flipped open the book.

This was something else than the more-holes-than-a-swiss-cheese bullshit they called history pre-rebellion. He always thought the books, the real books, were thrown on the fire after the Dark Days but after Snow's death Paylor's administration found all of them packed away in his mansion.

Now anyone could read them and a visit to the National Library of Panem was on Haymitch's to-do list. One of the few places in the Capitol he actually looked forward to see.

Effie borrowed his books every once in a while but she never was much of a book reader. In the Capitol she confessed to him that her parents' fancy mahogany library contained mostly fake, built-in books (and photo albums of course) with titles that you could change at the press of a few buttons. All so that the Trinket family would seem literate without actually having to make the effort.

She preferred the paper. Not only her Capitol newspaper and Panem Today but also the newspapers printed in District Three and Four and a whole bunch of magazines focused on some of her favorite subjects like architecture, fashion, interior design and art. And since she spent the better part of the week here now, Haymitch had to live with the fact she put the subscriptions down in his name.

Effie finished her reading before he finished his. She folded the paper with a sigh and got out of bed. The new curtains she'd bought and put up, hid her nakedness as she gazed at the endless splashing against the window but it wasn't exactly easy for Haymitch to focus on history after that.

Finally he dropped the book.

"I'm warm right down to my toes," Effie murmured when he wrapped his arms around her from behind. The rain reflected itself against their naked bodies and she turned in his embrace. "I could stay in this room with you forever," she said. His feelings must have shown on his face for she asked, "Are you OK?"

Haymitch gave a slight shake of his head and rested his forehead against hers.

"I'm great," he mumbled.

Effie wound her arms around his neck and brushed her lips to his once, twice, questioningly.

Such sweet oblivion. Effie was the cause for his distress but she was also the one who could make it go away.

"I want you," he mumbled against her mouth and a shudder ran through him when she deepened the kiss.

"You have me."

xXx

"How come we never did this when we were co-covers?"

They lay next to each other, half-buried in beddings and tried to catch their breaths. Shit, his lips were so swollen they felt twice as big. Would be no hiding that from the kids later.

Effie smiled at his question.

"Because we couldn't stand to be in the same room for more than five minutes at a time?" she suggested.

"Please," Haymitch said. "I can do it within five minutes if I have to."

Effie chuckled and rolled over on one side, head against her hand. Damn, she looked gorgeous with her hair completely out of order and the flush that covered her cheeks and breasts.

"Do you want to know a little secret?" she said. "I always found you kind of attractive. Even before I officially met you. The victor with the beautiful eyes."

"Want 'em blood-shot, huh?"

"Oh, they aren't always and they weren't back then. You know what I mean."

He opened his arm to her and Effie lay down, head against the crook of his neck.

"So," she said after a few moments of drawing circles over his chest. "What about me?"

"What about you, sweetheart?"

"I just gave you a very heart-felt compliment. Is there something you like to say to me?"

Haymitch's lips curled into a smile.

"Can't think of anything off the top of my head."

"Are you sure?" said Effie, badly hiding the disappointment in her voice.

"It's not as easy for me, princess," he said. "You were a five at best. Perhaps a six if I squinted but…"

Effie sucked in a breath but when she tried to pull away Haymitch drew her to him again. He chuckled at her indignation and kissed the crease between her eyebrows until it disappeared.

"You were the one who always said no, Effs. Remember? I would've fucked you every which way."

"Oh, you smooth talker," Effie said and resisted the want to roll her eyes.

"Probably for the best we didn't," Haymitch said when she lay down again. "You would've killed me by now."

"Or perhaps the other way around?"

"Yeah, that's likely."

Effie smiled.

It was true though. What he said. Haymitch did make all the invites during the Games and she always turned him down. She didn't want to "shit where she ate", to use one of Haymitch's colorful expressions. But most of all, she didn't want to engage in something he only wanted when he was dead drunk. It felt too much like taking advantage. She couldn't stop him from having a Capitol woman when he really had a mind to but she didn't want to be someone he regretted in the morning.

So she upheld a professional relationship with District 12's obnoxious mentor. And that was easy, sometimes. When he reeked of sweat and vomit and she didn't even want to think what else; when it was a long time since he bathed or brushed his teeth and that vile, booze breath of his triggered her gag reflex. Then she told herself she found him absolutely repulsive and she believed it.

But Haymitch Abernathy needed so little – a shower, a change of clothes (especially when she got to choose his outfits) – to turn into a man who made her pulse pound both here and there.

When he pressed himself to her then, there was a part of her, a rather strong part, who didn't want to push him away. Who wondered what it would be like.

She heard him sometimes. In his room at the penthouse. Up until then she never thought a sound alone could make her aroused. Not from a man she considered so impossible and infuriating.

She told herself to just ignore him and concentrate on work but true to form Haymitch made it so difficult for her. He groaned and moaned and panted and when she pictured him on the bed with his clothes out of order and his hand around himself, the rational part of her brain went out the window. Every single time.

Surely Haymitch didn't know anything about it or he would have teased her endlessly. Touching herself sometimes helped when she was really stressed out and unlike him, years of thin walls and bugged rooms had made her a master of silent orgasms.

At least before Haymitch. She didn't know what kind of images filled his mind when he touched himself on the other side of the wall, only that they couldn't possibly be dirtier than hers. And when she moved her hand in time with his grunts she had to bite down hard to not let him hear it when he made her come harder than any of her boyfriends, past or future.

She had wanted him, without a doubt. Despite all her great efforts to try and deny and reduce it to herself when she was clear-headed. And some part, buried deep inside of Haymitch, had wanted her as well.

Where would they be right at this moment if she had crossed the small space between their penthouse bedrooms all those years ago?

"Maybe," she said. "Maybe it happened when it was supposed to happen."

"Yeah, maybe," Haymitch mumbled. His eyelids had gone heavy and he rolled them over so he spooned her. Effie rested her arm against his that was wrapped around her and he buried his nose in her hair, his favourite place to fall asleep.

All this time she had told herself it was nothing. The kiss on New Year, their first time under the apple trees and all those little moments in between.

They were never nothing.

How easy it was to fall when she finally let herself. Easy and right. Even if it took her a long time to see it this was where she belonged.

"Haymitch…"

"Mm?"

"I'm so glad I have you in my life."

Haymitch gave a slight nod against her hair.

"Yeah, you're lucky," he mumbled.

Effie smiled and closed her eyes.

Yes, she thought before sleep pulled her under. Her choice was an easy one. It would always be him.

And then Mrs. Q could say whatever she wanted.