Chapter 2
The benefits of balance

It was so quiet with Effie gone.

He'd never liked the silence much, only made him hear his own dark thoughts, but at the same time it was relieving not having her around too. Relieving to get to sleep whenever he wanted, to not have her high pitched voice commenting on his drinking or the state of his clothes when he was the most hangover. Relieving to not be woken to another "big big big day!" by her rapping on his door.

He didn't understand why she'd insisted on waking him so damn early each morning when all they ever seemed to do was sit on his front porch drinking an endless supply of Capitol tea tasting like flowers or a sickly sweet concoction she called "ice tea".

It was so boring he was ready to throw himself off the slag heap, having to listen to Effie's nonstop chit-chatting. He'd sat there day in and day out watching her waving hands in the air and tried recalling how long she'd stay. It was always good to know how long Effie Trinket would be present – to know what you were in for – and she must have checked it off with him at some point but he couldn't for the sake of his life remember and when she wasn't pouring him tea she was dragging him on walks back and forth along the dusty roads of Twelve.

Yeah, he was relieved when Effie left and his life fell back into its old routine. And yet his thoughts went back to her – not often but always when he least expected it. He guessed it wasn't odd wondering about her, what she was doing. Ever since he got the determined, clipboard clutching girl that was Effie Trinket as his escort she'd been a constant in his life.

He thought of writing to her. She'd sent him a thank you card days after his birthday, but he ended up with a blank paper just the same. Effie would probably be unable to decipher his handwriting anyway.

So the days just came and went, most of them with Haymitch on the couch, bottle in hand, staring leisurely up at the crackled ceiling paint. Sometimes Peeta was there and the smell of fresh bread dispersed some of the sour stench of neglect Haymitch hardly even notice anymore. Sometimes he woke, his head feeling like it would split open, finding someone had made up his fire, leaving a bowl of soup on the hearth. Each Sunday Katniss and Peeta dug him out to have dinner with them if he wanted to or not.

One morning all of Twelve was covered in frost.

Winters around here were merciless. He got good use of the jacket Katniss and Peeta had gotten him for his birthday when he trudged along the snow packed road into town getting his weekly supply of liquor at Ripper's or sometimes went over to the boy's bakery where there were frosted ginger cake houses in the windows.

The only times you could really tell there was someone living in Haymitch's house at all were at night when his windows gleamed through the darkness and one of those nights when the snowy wind howled outside and he was having some of Peeta's rolls for his first solid meal all day, Haymitch clawed around a kitchen drawer finding something he did not expect.

If he hadn't been so tanked up he probably would have recognized the shining black box right away. Now it took for him to open it and reveal the elegant, gold bracelet he hadn't laid his eyes on since Finnick gave it back to him on the hovercraft.

He slumped down on the couch, bread in one hand, jewelry in the other, seeing the firelight reflect itself in the gold surface. Effie had called it bangle and in that one memory he felt a pang of longing, so strong he frowned and put his roll away, unable to eat another bite.

He'd always been lousy at answering his phone, not that there were many calling him, but he'd at least kept from tearing it out of the wall after Effie had it fixed before the Quarter Quell. She'd even put up a list of "Numbers of importance" next to it, yellowed by now, for Katniss and Peeta's thought to be wedding. He blinking hard several times to clear his head and dialed Effie's number.

The signals went on and on and just as he thought she wasn't going to pick up there was a crackle on the other end.

"Eff?"

"Haymitch?"

There was something wrong with Effie's voice. His eyebrows came together as he tried to tell what it was.

"Hello?" said Effie uncertainly.

"Yeah," Haymitch slurred. "Yeah, is me."

"Why are you calling me so late? It's 3AM."

Haymitch blinked stupidly, looking from the wall clock and back.

"What're you doin'?" he asked.

"I'm in bed. It's the middle of the night."

Her voice was choked, like she had a cold and her breathing trembled. What she didn't sound like was someone who'd been woken in the middle of the night, even in his state he could tell. He remembered those many days in the hospital when he arrived finding Effie with puffy eyes and tears on her cheeks that she always quickly wiped away when she saw him at the door. Her voice had sounded exactly like that.

"You crying?"

"No," said Effie.

"You're crying."

"I'm not," she said. She shivered and he heard the rustle of sheets like she was pulling a blanket tighter around herself.

"I can hear you breathing through your mouth, Eff. You sick?"

"I'm not sick. I'm just tired. It's 3 AM. What do you want?" A moment passed. "Nothing's happened, has it? Are Katniss and Peeta alright?"

"Nah, I'm just drunk calling ya."

"Of course," said Effie. She drew a breath. "How are you? Have you tried your chessboard yet?"

"Why weren't you asleep?"

"Who says I wasn't?"

"You always bit my head off when I woke you drunk during the Games." He took a swig from his bottle. "You had a nightmare or something? That's why you're up?"

"No, because it's cold," said Effie and before Haymitch could answer, the words came flowing out of her mouth. The heat wasn't working as it should for some reason and there was no one she could call for the next three hours, and now it was just snowing and snowing and she couldn't even go up to get another blanket because the floor was so cold.

"I've practically got frost in my hair."

"Poor Effs," said Haymitch, looking into his own glowing fireplace, flexing his toes that were toasty warm. Effie made a sad sound as if she could see it. "Tuck in your blanket," he said.

"What?"

"Tuck in your blanket. Like a sleeping bag. Then it'll reflect your body heat."

There was the rustle of sheets and he heard Effie's teeth clattering. Then after a few moments her breathing calmed.

"Better?" he asked.

"Thank you."

They silenced. Haymitch scratched his stubble with the top of his bottle.

"I wish you were here, Haymitch," Effie finally said. "I really do. Things just feel warmer when you're around. If you were here, do you know what I would do? I would make us both a cup of hot chocolate with chili pepper. Have you ever tried it? It's really delicious and I would get out some woolen socks too, so we wouldn't mind the floor. They are pink but they're warm and really soft."

"You OK, Eff?" Haymitch asked.

"I'm sorry", Effie said. "I know I sound sentimental. Sometimes I… I get a little sad when it's dark outside. That's all. But it will pass. It always does."

"Want me to come over?"

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop and think about them. Maybe because he knew what it was like to not feel well in the dark.

"You don't have to come all the way to the Capitol, Haymitch", Effie said softly. "I wouldn't make you do that. I know you hate the Capitol and don't want to come and visit me."

Haymitch knitted his eyebrows together.

"Don't put words in my mouth, sweetheart. Was an honest offer."

"It takes a day to get to the Capitol. You would have to sleep on the train. And in this weather. Not… not that it wouldn't be nice having a guest over but…"

And she kept on like that until Haymitch rolled his eyes and interrupted her.

"Your voice's giving me a headache, sweetheart. If you want me to come over I'll come over. What day's today?"

"Today is Thursday."

"So I'll come tomorrow."

"Technically it's already tomorrow."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Well, I… it's settled then," said Effie and even though she sounded startled she also sounded much happier than when she first picked up the phone.

xXx

It felt strange being on this train again. Last time was the day the Capitol carted them all of for the Quell and they'd been sitting around the table, all in their own misery. He remembered Effie sending her wine away for his sake, squeezing his shaky hand under the table when no one else was looking.

These post-war trains were different, of course. Less extravagant, even if they were just as fast. Somewhere a sleeping car was waiting for him but he preferred the regular seats in the wide, empty hallways, resting his feet on the seat opposite of him. He watched his breath appear and disappear on the window, hearing the wind whistle outside and the bottles in his duffel bag clink whenever the train made a sudden move.

Never in a million years had he imagined going back to the Capitol, or any other part of Panem for that matter. Katniss probably believed he would have gone some place with less painful memories after the war if he'd had the choice but even if he hadn't had to move back home for Katniss's sake there was no other place for him in the world. He guessed it was the same thing for Effie. He remembered how choked her voice had sounded, wondering if those nights when she got sad were many.

Not until the sun peeked over the horizon did Haymitch's head slump down on his shoulder and there he would sit well into the afternoon when a loudspeaker jolted him awake. Watching the overcrowded platform he got an unpleasant image of when the four of them used to pull into the station every year to a wide-grinning, chanting and waving crowd, eager to see this year's tributes.

None of the people outside were paying attention to the train now of course and he took his duffel bag heading for the exit, shuddering when snow whirled up in his face. No wonder Effie wept, he thought as he made his way through the crowd, trying to spot her somewhere in this blur of colors.

He saw her long before she saw him, standing under the big clock. God, she was bright. She must shine in the damn dark. Her powdered face broke into a smile when she saw him and she waved, looking like some kind of angel you put in a Christmas tree.

"There you are," she said. "I was getting worried. You were supposed to be here six minutes ago and I was afraid the train was behind schedule but now you're here. Welcome Haymitch," she said and kissed him on the cheek. Haymitch rubbed the spot to make sure none of her colors had stuck on him and she looped her arm around his.

"It's so nice to receive you," she smiled. Her long fake eyelashes looked like snow flurries clung to them and she pulled him with her towards the waiting cab. "I have so much planned for us", she continued. "You will get the largest guest room of course and your own bathroom. I'm sure we're going to have a very nice weekend together."

"Yeah, you go on trying to convince yourself of that, sweetheart." He noticed her nails were decorated with snowflakes and he shook his head in disbelief.

Effie's apartment building wasn't pink like Haymitch had always imagined it but a deep orange like the fruit they had at the Hob on New Year's. The building was squeezed in between two bright turquoise ones – as if bent on giving him a headache.

"Well," said Effie with a smile. "This is my home."

He couldn't help himself. He craned his neck right and left the moment they got inside. Oddly enough, it didn't look half as outrageous as he'd expected. Muted colored leather sofas and arm chairs, soft carpets, wooden furniture and mirrors. Lots of mirrors.

"You grew up here?" he asked.

"Yes. Our landlady used to babysit me when I was little."

"I can totally imagine you as a kid."

"Oh?" Effie smiled.

"Probably came out of your mum, wig and all."

Place seemed big for just one person. Effie owned the whole bottom floor. They turned a corner and she held opened a door for him.

"This is your room."

The first he saw was the bed, twice the size of his own back home and looking so comfortable he slumped down on it immediately, stiff from the train ride. He pulled his socks off, burying his feet in the soft bedspread.

Effie frowned at his socks so carelessly thrown on the floor but she cleared her throat and said,

"I took liberty of getting you these just in case the floor gets cold," she said and handed him a pair of dark blue slippers. And a water glass," she added pointing to the nightstand. "In case you get thirsty in the middle of the night. Towels are in the bathroom. There's both a shower and a bathtub, whatever you prefer and if you need a pajamas I have some you can borrow. And don't get too comfortable," she smiled when Haymitch lay back against the pillows, looking overly pleased. "The night is young."

The pleased look immediately vanished from Haymitch's face.

"What?"

And Effie opened a closet taking out a black garment bag, draping it over the bed.

"My dear friend Flora is throwing a party tonight and you are my plus one."

"Oh, fuck no!" said Haymitch, sprinting up from the bed, with Effie getting out something blue and glistening from the garment bag.

"You would look so dashing in this one," Effie sighed, holding it against him. "It goes perfectly with your skin tone."

"I'm not going to some Capitol freak show. Forget it!"

"It's not a freak show. It's a nice party."

"I'm not going," Haymitch repeated, crossing his arms over his chest as if to make sure she wouldn't be able to force the clothes onto him.

"It's not like the sponsor banquets or presidential dinners," said Effie. "Not at all. It's simply a… get-together. There will be good food and drinks, interesting people."

"I've got all I need right here. You go if you wanna go."

"I don't want to go alone," said Effie, throwing her hands at her sides, the blue suit shimmering. "And everyone will bring their dates. I would look ridiculous if I came alone."

"Since when am I your date?"

"You know what I…"

"And even if I was, I sure as hell wouldn't wear that," he said with a disgusted look at the blue suit. It had a white collar that looked way too snug for his taste.

"We would have a wonderful evening," said Effie. "I'm sure."

"Yeah," Haymitch snorted. "Safe bet."

"And they have an open bar!"

Haymitch looked up.

"Really?"

"So will you accompany me tonight, wearing this? Please?" she asked. "Showered," she added after a pause.

Haymitch sighed and grabbed the suit.

xXx

Haymitch hated parties. He hated being paraded around and he hated mingling. During the Games, before Katniss and Peeta came along, he'd left all of that to Effie while he was at the bar, long ago abandoned the belief any action on his part would make a difference; a behaviour and a thinking Effie had quarreled with him about numerously.

Sure, maybe this party wasn't Games related, he thought while tugging at his collar. It still made his skin crawl when Effie pulled him into the mansion and the heat from the crowds of flamboyantly dressed people hit him like a wall.

Effie smiled left and right as she made way through the crowds, expertly zigzagging between waving glasses, lit cigars and careless elbows.

"Where's the bar?" Haymitch asked, scanning over people's heads.

"Well, it's only polite to first introduce yourself to…"

"Don't have to. Me and the bar go back a long way," said Haymitch and Effie sighed just as he spotted the bar with its wonderful rows of green and blue and golden bottles.

He pulled Effie with him as he headed towards it and heaved himself up on a barstool, ordering two glasses of scotch. He nudged one glass over to Effie who took a sip while Haymitch emptied half of his in one go.

"You look insane," he said, taking in Effie's outfit, the bluish flower hanging down her shoulder, her slime green hair.

Effie raised an eyebrow at him.

"Be nice Haymitch or I might ask you to dance."

Just as she said that, the orchestra which up until now had played softly in the background stroke up a tune, getting people's attention and Haymitch squirmed with unease on his chair.

But before he could say anything a man with shining blonde hair materialized so fast you'd think he'd stood at the ready ever since they walked in.

"Excuse me, ms Trinket," he said, giving her the Capitol bow as was tradition here and held out his hand. "Can I have this dance?"

Effie smiled and after throwing a comment about responsible drinking over her shoulder she disappeared out on the dance floor.

He didn't try and stop her, with two glasses of excellent Capitol scotch and the bartender at the ready. Without a thought of Effie, dancing somewhere behind him, he relished in his easily achieved freedom, as well as free drinks.

Until the music faded again and a sigh escaped his lips, expecting the familiar hammering of heels, when Effie returned to him.

Only she wasn't. He turned around just in time to see a man, another man, bow for Effie, leading her back out on the dance area.

She truly did look insane in that getup and with thick layers of blue and green and yellow eye makeup, making her look 10 years older than she was. The flock of Capitol suitors watching her dance didn't look like they shared Haymitch's opinion though. They looked as if they'd found a pot of gold where they least expected it. A pack of dogs catching a smell in the air.

Haymitch downed what was left of his drink and waved the empty glass at the bartender, watching Effie in the arms of yet another dance partner, a man who'd dyed himself silver but still amazingly enough did not leave fingerprints on Effie when he held her that tightly.

Haymitch snorted so heavily the liquor in his glass splashed back on his nose. She must be desperate, dancing with men like those. And she was one to talk about manners, stranding him on this party, not so much as throwing a glance at him.

What was he even doing here? Back in the Capitol, wearing clothes matching Effie's. But of course that was something he knew. He'd come here because he wanted to know how she were. But he thought they would spend their days over at her place, like when she visited Twelve. He hadn't expected this, which was stupid of him when he thought about it.

Haymitch's mood went from bad to worse as he watched Effie dance through an endless line of Capitol suitors, one more freakish looking than the other, her outfit glistening in the light from the crystal chandeliers. He didn't know much about dancing but whatever it was that she was doing she was damn good at it. Too good.

Haymitch had himself another drink and more than a few of the guests had started giving him looks. A lady with black gloves and dark blue lipstick whispered something to her date but when Haymitch gave her a mocking version of the Capitol bow she sniffed, pulling her companion with her and then he was alone at the bar.

There were buffet tables on the other side of the room with fruit tureens on ice, bread and cheese, fancy dishes and a huge, elegant cake with whipped cream and flakes of chocolate that people hadn't started in on yet. He wouldn't mind having some of the food but it irritated him having to go there alone when he was supposed to be Effie's plus one.

"Hey, Eff!" he called across the room. Some of the guests looked his way but not Effie. She seemed to have forgotten he even existed, getting twirled by her suitor – the silver colored one, again. "Eff!" Haymitch called, louder this time, to be heard over the music and the buzzing of people.

He watched the man make an elegant move so his silver arms and Effie's arms were wrapped together over her upper body, with the two of them swaying slightly from side to side with him hugging her from behind, whispering something in her ear.

Haymitch slammed his half emptied glass of whiskey on the bar table and got off his chair, making way through the crowds, not caring in the slightest about the indignant sounds of those he elbowed passed. He wasn't as steady as he'd like to be but his irritation kept him from staggering.

"I'm hungry," he said, walking over the dance area, eyes on Effie who hadn't even spotted him yet. There were several couples dancing and he got bumped here and there on his way for her. He reached out his hand to nudge her dance partner on the shoulder.

But before he'd gotten the chance someone bumped into him from behind and Haymitch staggered forward slamming right into Effie's partner. The man yelped and stumbled forwards, losing his grip on Effie's hand as he'd just twirled her. Effie made a stumbling pirouette, tripped in her high heels and toppled the table over when trying to break her fall – getting the gigantic cake all over herself.

It was so horrible there was only one thing people could do. Watch. Even the musicians had silenced, mouths agape seeing Effie on the floor, all arms and legs inside layers and layers of whipped cream and chocolate and cake. She was too stunned and her face too covered in the stuff to even scream. She wiped her hands against her face and a pair of blue eyes came visible.

Clumps of cake fell from her as Effie tried to get up, her hands and feet only slipping on the messy floor and Haymitch saw many of the men she'd danced with earlier, including the silver one, move back to keep from getting their clothes soiled.

Finally Haymitch stepped in, giving her a hand and Effie stared at him, shakily getting to her feet, cake plunging from her onto the once shiny wooden floor.

The restroom got empty extraordinarily fast when Effie entered, Haymitch in tow and first now when they were alone did she truly turn to him.

"Are you out of your mind, Haymitch!?"

"It was an accident," said Haymitch. "Just wondered if you wanted to grab something to eat."

"I've never been so humiliated! And we ruined Flora's cake!" Effie grabbed half a dozen paper napkins, wiping her face clean of whipped cream and chocolate, scraping cake from her dress by the handful, dumping it into the washbasin. "Look at my dress! Look at my hair!"

Haymitch fought hard to keep the muscles in his face under control. He reached out, plucking a flake of chocolate from her shoulder, popping it into his mouth.

Flora who was displeased about nothing but her ruined cake appeared at the door and after lending Effie a towel she offered to call them a cab.

"I'm humiliated!" Effie said for surely the tenth time when they entered her apartment. With an angry huff she turned the lights on by clapping her hands together. "You find everything you need in the bathroom cabinet", she said. "I would help you but I have jam under my fingernails!"

And then Haymitch lay on his own bed, bottle in hand, listening to Effie taking a shower so long she would have used up all the hot water if it had been at his house.

He heard when she came out too, closing the bathroom door after herself and then the muffled sound that could only be Effie throwing her very own pity party. Haymitch rolled over on his side, pounding his fist against the wall.

"What?" he heard Effie's voice.

"Shut up."

"Rude," muttered Effie.

He rolled onto his back again, grinning, bringing the bottle to his lips. But after a full five minutes of having to listen to Effie muttering about her terrible lot in life he hauled himself out of bed, heading for her room.

"Effs, quit being so…" he said and pushed open the door but his voice was cut off by a scream.

"Don't come in here!" Beauty products spilled over the edge of her vanity table as Effie had pulled the comforter over her head. "I'm not presentable! I'm not even Beauty Base Zero!"

"Shit, Eff. You could cut bread with that voice."

"Turn around! Look away! Look away!"

Haymitch sighed and faced the wall, hearing Effie flit about the room, opening closets and drawers.

"How bad can you be, really?" he said.

"What do you want, Haymitch? Come to humiliate me some more?"

"Who cares about that? Wanna talk humiliation, sweetheart? Think about my dive at the reaping. Whole fucking country saw that. You've put on your crap yet?"

"Yes. No. I mean yes. It's not crap," said Effie, failing to keep the impatience out of her voice. Haymitch turned, seeing Effie stand there in a pink dressing gown tied tightly around her body, face flushed and her hair hidden under one of her gray head wraps.

He put his bottle of liquor on the nightstand next to Effie's filled water glass and crashed on her bed.

"You will not tell this to a living soul. And that outfit was new. And I who had such a lovely time," she said, giving him a long look and Haymitch didn't know what he ached to do the most. Sigh with annoyance at her way of making this all his fault, tease her for obsessing or comfort her because no one could look as sad as Effie when she was upset.

He averted his gaze and his eyes fell on the large painting across from them. He recognized it immediately. Not because he'd seen it before but because he'd been there before. Looking at it now, he could almost feel the warm sun, smell the scent of summer and wildflowers, feel the breeze rustling through the hardwood trees surrounding the Meadow.

There was only one person who could have made it.

"Peeta gave it to me," said Effie, confirming his thought. "While he was still at the Capitol."

Haymitch nodded. The boy hadn't spoken about it but of course Peeta had spent time with Effie while he was still under Aurelius care. The doctor wouldn't let him return to Twelve until he was safe to be around Katniss and he could imagine Effie and the boy talking, maybe while he made this painting.

"We can go there someday," said Haymitch. "You know. The Meadow."

Effie looked surprised over this unexpected offer but then she smiled.

"I'd love to." She folded her hands on her lap. "We need to leave our outfits at the drycleaner's tomorrow," she said. "But after that you and I are going to have a very nice day together, downtown. I promise."

A groan escaped Haymitch's lips. He grabbed a pillow and pressed it over his face.

xXx

Parts of the Capitol had been as damaged as the districts during the rebellion but looking at it now it felt like the city hadn't changed a bit, except there were no framed photos of President Snow in the shop windows.

He knew President Paylor and her new administration, had had long days – much assisted by Plutarch and Beetee – cleaning the city off pods, including the contraptions and muttations the Capitolians didn't even know lay beneath their feet until that gory winter day when Katniss and Peeta entered the city and the ground cracked opened from under them.

Haymitch pushed the thought aside. That for certain was something he didn't want to think about more than he had to.

Effie seemed to have decided to forgive Haymitch for the cake debacle because she was having a ball, strolling down the well-plowed pavements with Haymitch on her arm, telling him the name, height, material, designer, year and reception of every candy colored building of worth as they passed them. While Haymitch let her words go in one ear and out the other – a method he'd perfected over the years.

"There is only one place to really see the city," said Effie, squeezing Haymitch's arm. "And that's the Capitolium. It's got the most marvelous view of the entire city. It's also a restaurant."

The building in question towered above the rest, gleamed in the sunlight. They entered the warmth of a foyer, handing over their outerwear in the wardrobe and getting their tickets.

Apart from the large cloud on her head Effie was wearing a black dress that was positively heart stopping. It seemed to be neither fabric nor metal but something in between, embroidered with silver threads and having a neckline that exposed her skin in an innocent way maybe but still more than enough to make him swallow.

Effie felt his eyes on her and smiled. And then she headed right for the curved marble staircase.

"Elevators," said Haymitch.

"I thought we could watch the view as we go. We always did that when I was little."

"We're gonna walk all the way up? You kiddin' me? I won't survive."

"You're not that old, Haymitch," said Effie amusedly.

"Why can't we just watch the damn view when we're up there?"

"Well, some people see it as part of the experience taking the stairs and watch the city shrink as they go. You'll manage. A stockily built district man like you," said Effie, with a glint in her eyes.

"I hate you," growled Haymitch when Effie mounted the first seven steps like it was nothing.

"The Capitolium is viewed as one of Panem's greatest architectural designs," said Effie as they went upwards, step by step by step. "It's had a steady flow of visitors ever since it was built, won the Minerva Medal two years in a row and…"

She turned her head with a smile but silenced when she discover Haymitch was not among the few people whom had also decided to take the stairs.

"Haymitch?" she said. There was a groan somewhere below. She headed down the steps, excusing herself as she went.

"Oh dear," she said, when she spotted Haymitch leaning against the banister, face so red he looked like he'd have a stroke. "Are you alright?"

Haymitch waved his hand at her to shut her up. He reached her with a groan and rested one hand on his thigh, the other against the banister, trying to catch his breath, stopping up the flow of people descending the stairs.

"Maybe we," said Effie, looking at Haymitch with concern. "Maybe we should take the elevator after all."

"Not… on your life," Haymitch gasped. He wiped his face with his shirtsleeve and then they slowly continued their way up the stairs, neither of them getting any joy from watching the city become smaller and smaller.

"Well," said Effie uncertainly, feeling the need to defend herself. "This is what happens when you abuse your body with years of heavy drinking."

"Tell me something I don't know, sweetheart," Haymitch snorted, his heart pulsating in his throat, his thighs feeling like they were burning.

"We're nearly there," said Effie and then she added, as if thinking it would sheer him up, "You know. This poor attempt at climbing a flight of stairs could be a motivation for you to get your neglected body back into shape."

The view was lost on Haymitch when they finally reached the dome that was the Capitolium's restaurant and he collapsed on the nearest chair, head between his knees not bothering about the people already at the table.

Effie got them seats next to a potted tree with large green and pinkish leaves lending them some shade from the painfully bright sun.

"My parents had their first date in this restaurant," Effie told him when pouring steaming hot coffee into first his cup and then her own. "They both detested coffee but they didn't want to admit that to each other so they sat here, forcing it down. They were married within a year. Haymitch, no elbows on the table."

Hearing that Haymitch pulled half his upper body over the table, chewing with his mouth open making Effie sit straighter up in her chair.

"Look at the size of that sheep," he said, voice muffled by his salmon sandwich.

"The… what?" said Effie.

"That's what it look like," said Haymitch, nodding towards her big, white hair. He swallowed the last of his sandwich and glanced out the window. The Capitol looked like a toy city from up here, with naked trees blinking with lights, snow covered public gardens, the barrage and the mountains stretching out in the distance. "Totally not worth going all the way up here for," he said.

"But the food is excellent?" said Effie.

He made a grunt, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with her but he'd finished his sandwich, starting in on another. Effie smiled to herself and then began telling him about the designer of her outfit and that subject excited her up to the point she forgot disapproving over his table manners and while he ate his salmon, tuning out most of what she was saying they found themselves actually having a good time.

"Mm," said Effie dabbing a napkin at the corners of her mouth. "We should have dessert. How about…"

She stopped mid-sentence and Haymitch looked up. Effie's eyes which just seconds ago had sparkled looking back at him were wide looking at something behind him.

"What?" said Haymitch.

"Don't turn around!" she hissed but he was already looking over his shoulder. A woman in a canary yellow dress had walked in, followed by an entourage of bizarre looking friends. When he turned back to Effie she was hiding her face behind one of the large pinkish leaves of the potted tree.

"What're you doing?"

"Lower your voice." Effie's eyes came visible over the edge of the leave and she whimpered. "She can't see us. I don't want to stay here. We have to leave."

"Come on. I haven't even gotten my drink yet."

"There are drinks at my house," said Effie behind her leaf. "Please, Haymitch."

"Who is she?" he asked, with Effie getting up from her seat, tugging at him. He gazed back at the woman in the canary yellow dress. She hadn't spotted them yet as she was just getting seated. A twenty-something year old, small in stature, even shorter than Effie but curvier. Slightly. By Capitol standards at any rate. Blonde fair hair. Heart-shaped face. Lips like a Cupid's bow and the most intense stare he'd ever seen. Eyes you might cut yourself on if you weren't careful.

"The hell was that all about?" he asked when they were back in Effie's apartment, with his lady of the manor by the drinking cabinet, trying to dodge his question by offering wine.

"Nothing. She's no one," Effie said and poured herself a glass, downing half. "You wouldn't know who she is."

"You ashamed of me? Is that it?" He didn't really care if it was true but it felt like the most plausible explanation.

"No," said Effie honestly, eyes begging him to let it go.

"What's she done? Wore the same dress as you?"

"Please, Haymitch. Can we not?"

The day wasn't the same after that. Effie kept appearances up but the almost encounter with the blonde woman had made a dent in her good mood. He saw it in her eyes. How they would cloud over with sadness, miles away. Like so often after the war.

And just like then, when she felt his eyes on her, she put on a smile, pretending like he hadn't just seen her like that.

"We wouldn't want to waste a day with such Christmassy weather."

She got to her feet lending him a muffler.

"You better dress warm."

"Give me a break, Eff. What do you have against this apartment?"

"I have planned something very special for us," Effie said with her most mysterious smile.

Haymitch sighed, throwing the muffler onto the coffee table.

Just one more day, he thought. One more day and you'll be on that train and out of here forever.

Throughout the car ride Haymitch tried to get Effie to tell him where they were going but all she said was that he would see for himself.

And that he did. He saw it immediately, long before the car slowed down.

"You've got to be shitting me," Haymitch said, staring at the snow white rink, the Christmas trees in the corners and the fancily bundled up Capitolians dancing over the ice.

"It's so much fun," Effie smiled. "I loved ice-skating when I was a girl."

"Oh, just kill me now."

"We would like to rent two pair of skates", said Effie to the receptionist in the entrance hall. "One of them the size…"

"There's no fucking way I'm getting on that ice, Eff! I'll just end up in a hospital."

"It's perfectly safe", Effie said. "You get a helmet."

"I don't even know how!"

"I'll show you. Just give it a try, Haymitch. You might even enjoy yourself for once."

"How could you think I would enjoy this?"

"Just try it," she repeated. "I will help you."

"Yeah. You'll be the one scratching me off the ice with a shovel", said Haymitch.

"Oh, fuck," he growled once the skates were on and he took a shaking first step on to the ice. Of course everyone else has to be such bloody experts, he thought watching the others move so effortlessly over the rink.

Effie skated out on the ice herself, making a perfect pirouette with a bright smile. She wasn't wearing a helmet, he noted. Apparently Effie was too good looking to break her neck. His feet wobbled around, his hands shooting out to the sides to keep from face planting.

"Stop smirking at me and give me a hand!"

Effie skated over to him and took his arm but they'd only moved a few meters before he lost his balance and fell, hard.

"I told you this was a shitty idea!" Haymitch shouted, rubbing his neck, glaring at Effie whom had just barely managed to stay on her feet.

"You get used to it after a while", said Effie, helping him to his feet, brushing away the thin layers of snow from his jacket. "Look at me."

"Yeah, you're a real ice princess, princess", Haymitch snorted, legs shaking badly as he turned in the direction they'd come from to get off this ice, only to fall over again, lying on his stomach, failing to get up while practicing every swear in his repertoire.

She tried to keep him steady but it was useless. And for each time he hit the ice she saw his mood going for the worse. When he made a ridiculous half-pirouette, clanking the back of his head against the ice Haymitch wasn't speaking to her anymore.

Dinner that night was so quiet you could hear every ticking of the clock, every clatter of cutleries against the plates. Effie glanced at Haymitch's thunderous expression across the table, cutting her food in neat, unhappy motions. Nothing this weekend went according to plan.

They had some of his favorites, Haymitch noted. Pork chops with mashed potatoes and peas. All cater. Effie couldn't cook a meal to save her life, he thought unkindly – effortlessly keeping from thinking about the black ceiling over his own stove.

Finally Effie felt the need to try and clear the stifling atmosphere and she dabbed her mouth with a napkin, smiling at Haymitch.

"Despite it all I'm glad you're here."

Haymitch glared at her.

"'Despite it all'? What's that supposed to mean, sweetheart? What have I done? You've been bossing my ass around ever since I got here."

"I've just tried and…"

"Tried and get me to join in a few things, yeah," Haymitch said. "By doing stuff you wanna do. You're always like that. I said I didn't want to go to that party. Or ice-skate. You just don't listen. Probably prefer it when I shut up so you can talk uninterrupted."

"You don't have to sit here and be rude," mumbled Effie.

"Fine with me," said Haymitch and walked up from the table, tossing his napkin onto his plate. "Thanks for dinner."

The corners of Effie's lips were pointing downwards, her eyes fixed on the table as his footsteps disappeared down the hall.

Haymitch rubbed his hand irritably against his neck that still ached, the melted snow in his hair dripping inside his shirt. He found his way back to his room, looking through the drawers trying to find a bath towel. While continuing his bitter inner monologue, the thought of looking in the bathroom never even crossed his mind. So when he didn't find what he wanted he went over to Effie's room.

The sight of her outfits hanging in the closet and her perfume filling his nostrils only irritated him more. He looked through the dresser and then opened the cabinet above the closet, digging around. He felt something terry like and tugged it out.

And a box was flung out with it, burst opened when it hit the floor. Haymitch knelt down sweeping up the content. It looked like sewing stuff. Embroideries, attached to circular frames or lying loose.
They looked old. Some of them showed pictures, others had names surrounded by flowers and birds and ladybugs.

He sat down on the bed looking more closely at them. Effie Trinket, he read. Sometimes it was just Euphemia or Mommy and Daddy. He must be looking at some of a little Effie Trinket's sewing projects from school or maybe that landlady/babysitter of hers had taught her.

You could follow her development. First there were the simple ones with easy images like a smiling face or a sun or a fish with backsides a web of threads and knots. And then there were the more elaborate ones as she got more practice, like a field of apple trees or a vase of red and yellow and purple and white tulips, or a cloudy sky full of umbrellas.

A smile crossed his lips and then he got out another embroidery and this one was unfinished. The needle and thread were still attached to the fabric, as if just put down and forgotten, parts of the flower pattern still yet to be added. The name was also just partly finished but he could read it just the same.

Alexander.

"What are you doing?"

Effie was at the door. She stared at him, at what he was holding. He gave a wave of the bundle of embroideries.

"The box fell out when I…"

Before he could finish the sentence Effie was there, whipping the embroideries out of his hand.

"What are you doing in my room?"

"Just looked for a towel," Haymitch frowned.

"There are towels in your bathroom! I told you that!"

"Geez, Eff. Overreacting much?" Haymitch got up from the bed, heading for the door. Halfway there he leaned down to pick up the box and the rest of the stuff under it but before he could Effie dove, smacking his hand.

"I'll do it!"

"What is your problem?" Haymitch shouted. "You're acting fucking psycho, Eff!"

"This is private! You don't go into someone bedroom and start looking through their possessions! Leave this instant!"

"Screw you!" Haymitch said and turned, slamming the door so hard the paintings rattled.

xXx

A round moon peeked through the curtains with Effie lying curled up on her side, eyes dry but her pillow wet from tears.

It had been a moon just like this the day of her rescue, pale and frozen up in the sky. She'd been slipping in and out of consciousness then but she remembered the echo of feet and the rough voice that she recognized even though it sounded so far from home. Someone draped a jacket around her, carrying her and she opened her eyes and there was Haymitch, with the moon in his hair.

And suddenly the self-loathing was threatening to choke her and she pulled the blanket up over her face as if that would make the feeling disappear, make herself disappear.

She hadn't even thanked Haymitch for saving her. She knew keeping her alive had been directly against President Coin's initial orders but he'd saved her still and looked out for her in a world where both sides saw her as a traitor. He didn't have to do what he'd done.

Many had wanted her dead, maybe even most of them. So much could have gone wrong and yet she'd been spared and when her nights were at their worst, – even years after the war had ended – when she didn't think she'd ever feel happy again she'd often wanted to call him because somehow she knew he'd understand.

She pulled away the blanket and got out of bed.

"Haymitch?" she said, when standing outside his bedroom, tapping her fingers against the door. "Haymitch, may I come in?"

There was not a sound from within and after a few moments Effie opened the door.
The room was empty. All the clothes spread over the floor and chairs and dressers were gone, his bag, even the empty bottles on the nightstand. A lump rose in her throat. Had he really just left? Jumped on the bus outside her apartment and taken the train back home? Her eyes went to the wall clock and before she would allow any tears to fall she dressed, getting her keys.

By the time the cab slowed down outside the train station snow had begun to fall in an unbelievable amount, making it hard to see more than a few meters.
She got out of the car and after telling the driver to wait for her she hurried out, praying the train wouldn't have left yet, that he'd still be here.

Her prayers were half-granted. The train had left around the time of their ice skate disaster. But Haymitch was nowhere to be found. Not in any of the waiting areas, not by the benches outside the entrance, not on the stairs, not on any of the platforms. He'd been there though, according to the receptionist who remembered the oddly dressed man with his bag clinking with bottles.

"But it was a while ago," she said and that's when worry clutched on to Effie's insides. The Capitol was a maze at night even for those whom had lived here all their lives. And Haymitch with a bag of bottles, in this cold weather…

"Do you know where he went?" she asked and when the receptionist pointed she said a quick thank you and hurried in that direction.

"Haymitch?" she called, trying to see through the snow and to keep from being run down by the bobbing sea of umbrellas. "Haymitch?"

Her foot clinked against something and she looked down seeing one snow covered bottle you wouldn't be able to buy in the Capitol. And she hadn't more than picked it up before spotting another one further out.

xXx

The stars were gone.

Not that he'd thought much about it but he was pretty sure they had stars. Haymitch brought the bottle to his lips wondering where they'd gone. He stretched out with a grunt, sloppily wiping away snow from his face. The trees stood dark and silent around him and the snow was melting through the back of his jacket and pants, as he lay sprawled out on the snow drift where he'd been ever since he tumbled over.

It wasn't too bad here. He sucked on his bottle, dazedly looking up at the moon fighting to shine through the snow over the treetops.
Somewhere in the darkness a voice called. At first, he didn't bother about it but as it got closer, Haymitch's eyebrows came together. Because he recognized that voice and it wasn't supposed to be heard in Twelve.

A small figure appeared through the snow, getting closer, calling his name. Haymitch grunted and rolled over to his side, away from the sound.

"Haymitch!" Effie called, almost tripped on the ice and the many empty bottles surrounding him. "Haymitch!" She knelt beside him, hand against his cold face, trying to make him look at her. "You have to get inside, right now!"

"Stop screaming," he mumbled.

"It's December! You can't lie here and be covered in snow! You will freeze to death!"

"Serves you right."

"Come now," she said, putting his arm around her shoulders, helping him to sit with Haymitch muttering at her, his breath coming out like puffs of white smoke.

The cab driver was less than thrilled when Effie finally showed up, with Haymitch leaning heavily against her and throughout the drive back he kept warning them not to dare puke on his leather car seats.

Haymitch barely noticed. Not the car ride, not being half-carried through Effie's apartment, not when she deposited him on his bed.

"You scared me to death," Effie said, unbuttoning and tugged his shirt off, doing the same with his pants, revealing a pair of washed out boxers. His skin was like ice and she dug out all the blankets she could find draping them around him. Haymitch's teeth had started chattering and she sat down on the bed, tucking him in like he'd suggested for her over the phone. She took one of his red swollen hands warming it between hers.

His eyes were half shut but he tried to focus them on her. When she let go of his hand to do the same with the other he reached out, fingers sloppily grazing against the fabric of the cloth she had wrapped around her head.

"Let me see," he slurred, trying to tug it off but he was too drunk and too cold to get a good grip. Effie pulled his hand away gently but he just tried again, eyebrows knitted together in his effort to make his hand cooperate. "I wanna see you," he mumbled.

"It's nothing to see, Haymitch," said Effie. "Try and get some sleep and we can forget this night."

"I wanna see. Please."

Effie sighed but since she was sure he wouldn't remember any of this the next day she pushed Haymitch's hand down and under the cover and then her hands went to her head, slowly starting to unwrap the bandana.
He had his eyes focused on her now, as the layers of cloth unfolded, revealing more and more of what was underneath and then there were showers of curls, a little damp and untidy from being stuffed under the cloth.

Haymitch didn't say anything for so long she thought he'd just fallen asleep, when he reached out again, stroking a strand of hair between his fingers, his knuckles just brushing against her cheek. Effie smiled but her eyes were filled with sadness and regret.

"I'm sorry, Haymitch," she said.

"I'm sorry too," mumbled Haymitch. His hand fell back onto the bed and he drifted off to sleep.

xXx

Being woken at the crack of dawn by someone's arm smacking his face and seeing Effie sleeping next to him had almost scared the hangover out of Haymitch.
But as the fragments of yesterday slowly came together again and he remembered Effie had just gotten his drunk ass back to his room, staying with him until he fell asleep, like so many times before his shoulders relaxed a little. Fucking Effie would be fun, he had no doubt. Didn't make it a good idea.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, looking back at Effie and the messy curls all over her face.

During their time together he'd seen her without makeup several times and once with nothing but towels on when he dashed into her bathroom to empty his stomach in her toilet bowl but somehow she'd always managed to keep her hair from him.

Honestly, he'd been extremely curious about her natural hair and at times, just before the alcohol soaked him completely, tried to guess the color or trick her to reveal it to him or.

He would have seen it after her rescue but just like Johanna, her tormentors had shaved her head. And before it got a chance to really grow back in again, at the hospital, she'd already made him go find her a piece of cloth to cover up the horrid, patched up cuts and continents of multi-colored bruises looking back at her in mirrors, glass panes, soup spoons.

Once or twice over the years he even pondered if she simply looked like shit underneath. Had hair like seaweed maybe or those beard lichen you found on trees back home.

And then she turned out to have the softest kind of reddish blonde hair, glistening in the winter sun. Sweet as sleep syrup.

She was terrible to have in bed though. Seriously. When she wasn't moving around as if there was not a spot in this large bed that was comfortable enough she was mumbling unconnected monologues to herself, kicking him, elbowing him, smacking his face with her forearm and then when she realized there was a warm body next to her she snuggled up close to him, arm wrapped over his chest.
Most of the blankets were a bundle at the feet of the bed but he swore he could still see the air quiver with heat.

"Eff," he muttered, trying to inch his way out of bed without waking her up so he could go nurse his hangover with the remaining bottles in his bag, but as soon as he moved Effie tightened her grip around him in her sleep, keeping him in place.

He reached out an arm, managing to at least open a window, just an inch to get some air inside. But it was enough to make Effie stir next to him, blinking awake. She gave a start when feeling someone under her hands but then she recognized him.

"Oh. Good morning, Haymitch," she said, drawing back so they wouldn't lie so close together. "How are you feeling?"

He'd expected a lecture about last night but there was no anger in Effie's eyes, just concern when looking at him and embarrassment, for waking up in his arms probably. He found his own anger all gone too. Like morning mist when the day warmed up. Add the fact he'd gotten a night of relatively undisturbed sleep, even with Effie kicking him and he was in a far better mood than he used to be in the morning. The train would leave in just about two hours and he was surprised over how strongly he didn't want to leave now when he finally would.

He must have stared at it because Effie touched her hair self-consciously, as if not knowing what to do with it.

"I don't look awful, do I?"

"I've seen worse," said Haymitch. "Bet my money you'd be blonde though, not a redhead."

"Strawberry blonde," said Effie, smiling a little. "That's what my mother always called it."

She made him company to the train station when the time came and Effie finally seemed to have run out of things to talk about, so Haymitch's ears a nice rest for a change. But just when he was about to board the train she clutched his arm, stopping him from leaving and he realized her eyes shone with tears.

"Will you ever come back, Haymitch?" she asked, taking him by surprise.

"I… sure. If you want me to."

"I'm sorry you've been miserable here", she mumbled. "I just wanted to make your first stay with me memorable. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Well, I'll never forget it, so... mission accomplished," Haymitch shrugged but when he saw her bite her bottom lip he leaned in and kissed her forehead. "No need to get so upset, Effs." He boarded the train. "See ya sometime."

Effie nodded, fearing she would tear up if she spoke. She waved at him when the train was set in motion, taking Haymitch back to District 12. And despite all their drama, she couldn't help but wish she'd been with him.

Author's Note: A much longer chapter this time. Hope you had as much fun reading it as I had writing it. Please leave a review if you like and tell me what you think.