Author's note: This chapter is FIRE so you've been warned. ;) Also, the "Just checking" exchange, I cannot take full credit for. It was inspired by a funny dialogue between Fran Fine and Max Sheffield from the TV series "The Nanny".
Thanks again for all of your beautiful response to the previous chapter(s)! I'm so grateful that you take time out of your day to let me know you enjoy reading. I just wanted to add that: if I don't reply back to you right away please bear with me.
I'm not ignoring you or anything, it's just that I usually log out of all fandom social media for about a week after I've published a chapter (performance anxiety ya'll). But I always reply back eventually, every time where replying is possible.
Chapter 53, Dreaming of you
"Did you find me attractive right away?"
Effie sat cross-legged on her bed, wearing nothing but Haymitch's over-sized sweater. It was an old, moth-eaten thing but heavenly warm. Just what you needed on a cold, dark night like this.
The arrival of March had done little to improve the weather. Only made it harder to push a double stroller through the sleet and slush.
The phone lay in front of her, on loudspeaker of course. And in her hands: a bowl of sliced canned peaches, topped with generous spoonfuls of whipped cream. She bought them on impulse, last time she and the twins were downtown.
Four cans she mailed Haymitch. As a treat. He needed more sweetness in his life, that's for sure.
And naturally, Haymitch being Haymitch, he enjoyed it straight out of the can. Exaggerating those slurps, no doubt, just to annoy her.
No point in trying to convince him to use a bowl or even a mug. She could just picture the state of his kitchen right now.
Cupboards bare. Towering stacks of dirty dishes, covered with mold and stinking up the house.
At least she found some comfort in the fact that Haymitch had one decent meal every day, down at Sae's. She made him promise, and made sure Sae, Katniss and Peeta all knew of this promise – just in case Haymitch forgot.
"First time we met", Effie clarified her question. "When I came to your house that day. Was I pretty in your eyes?"
"You were so young", Haymitch said, mouth full.
"I was old enough", Effie shrugged and helped herself with another spoonful. "But I suppose", she pondered, "looks don't matter. Not if you hate the person."
"I never hated you, Eff", Haymitch said and she could tell he meant it. "Not really. You were annoying as fuck, sure. Especially your accent. But you were also so delusional and hopeful, determined to make a difference, you made hate impossible. Mostly I just felt sorry for ya. It was like watching a lil' duckling fresh out of the egg, squeaking relentlessly. I just knew the Games would swallow you whole. Or toughen you up. Make your heart callous. Indifferent. Like ol' mrs Dandruff. Either way … I wasn't gettin' attached." He paused. "But you proved a lot stronger than I thought, sweetheart."
A long silence. Until Haymitch broke the tension by having himself another loud slurp of sugar syrup.
"Oh … God", Effie winced but there was no erasing the smile on her lips. She licked the spoon clean and said, "Do you want in on a little secret, my love?"
"Always."
"You were my dream boy … for several years actually."
"That a fact?"
"Mm-hm. And if I tell you, do you promise not to hold it against me forever and ever?"
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of teasing you, Eff."
"Well … when I was a wee teen, still living at home … I may or may not, have had my first orgasm to a picture of you."
"Really?" She could hear the grin spreading across his face.
"Capitol Girl Magazine had published an old photo of you. From Caesar's interview. I hid the magazine under my mattress. Had it at my disposal for a couple of weeks. Until my mother found it and threw it out, that is. I thought you were so fierce and handsome. But then of course I met you in person", she teased, "and you ruined it all."
The spoon tinked when she scraped up the last of her dessert.
"So", she said, admiring the little heap of peach and cream. "There you have it. What do you have to say about that?"
"I'm actually … quite moved", Haymitch replied. "Then again, who can blame ya? I was quite the looker back in the day."
"You're still a looker", Effie said in a firm voice.
"Yah", Haymitch snorted and by the sound of it, he clapped his pouchy belly. "What's not to like 'bout this ol' dad bod? No wonder I ruined ya for other men."
Effie sighed.
"Is it that obvious?"
"I was kidding!"
"Well, I'm not."
"Oh knock it off, princess", Haymitch said, but there was a fondness in his voice, impossible to ignore.
"You know, you could be an absolute heartthrob", Effie said, "if you just put in a little effort for a change. Or", she added, "maybe you really are having sex and just not telling me about it. Hrmh … If so … are they OK with our little arrangement? Those other women you sleep with? Back in District 12, I mean?"
Haymitch yawned.
"Who? My secret Victor's Village harem? I'm not fucking anyone else, Eff."
"Just checking."
"Come on. You are more than enough, sweetheart. To handle, that is. Fuck. Honestly, I'd rather be sleepin' than knockin' boots."
"Really?" smiled Effie. "Is that why you call me up every few days? So that I may sing you a lullaby?"
"With your voice? No thank you."
"I guess I do, though. In a way", Effie continued, unfazed by Haymitch's last remark. "You always sleep like a baby, after sex. Especially when we shared beds, remember?"
"Self-preservation, sweetheart. You always wanted to cuddle."
"Oh, like you don't enjoy cuddling?" Effie grinned. "You love to cuddle, even more so than I do. If someone looked up 'cuddle-monster' in a dictionary they'd find a picture of you there. That's it."
"Maybe so, and if they ever look up 'annoying nag with Haymitch Abernathy's balls in a safe under her bed' that's where they'll find you."
Effie burst out laughing. And oh, how good it felt! She needed more laughs in her life. Now more than ever.
"Sweet Haymitch …" She wiped a tear from under her eyelashes. "I miss talking with you like this."
"Yeah, me too. Me too."
Effie settled the empty bowl on the nightstand. Laid back more comfortably against her pillow. The one with Haymitch's t-shirt for a pillowcase.
"Feels just like the old days, doesn't it?" she said. "The good ones."
"Mm", said Haymitch. "And with this new agreement of ours, at least I can't get you pregnant no matter how hard I try."
"Yes", Effie sighed. "It certainly makes things less complicated."
Agreement. Arrangement. That's one way to put it. They never talked this through. Not once. These booty calls of theirs. They just happened. One time became two. Two became three and before they knew it, they were completely hooked. Both of them.
Pulled in, like a pair of beach sandals when the tide comes. Slowly but surely. And now they just … floated on the waves with no real direction.
At midnight. Always midnight and always over the phone. Never in person.
And whatever they did, whatever they talked about, it only existed at night. Never to be mentioned once the sun came up.
She had a pretty keen feeling as to why that was. Why they pretended like it rained during the day.
It wasn't due to shame or even regret.
They never addressed it because if they did, they had to talk it through, and if they talked it through, they'd reach the irreversible conclusion that this was, in fact, a really, really bad idea. And then they had to stop. For good.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, was something neither of them wanted to do.
So instead, they lived two lives. One where they ate and drank and cared for their children, discussed doctor's appointments, video-calls and planning the next visit.
And then there was the other one, the one of darkness and moonlight and treats and shared secrets where they sank into each other's arms. Over and over and over again.
She could almost pretend those nocturnal adventures with him were nothing but a particularly good dream.
Almost.
There was an additional reason too. For her at least. Another motivator, stimulant if you will, as to why Effie yearned those moments so much. Beyond the primal urges of it all.
Haymitch had it worse at night. Those long hours before dawn, that's when he was the most vulnerable. Most prone to drink.
But when his body called out to her, thirsted for her, it deafened him to the calls of the bottles. That inevitable moment when the need for a drink overpowered him, simply got post-phoned.
What a psychiatrist had to say about it wasn't a pleasant thought, but imagining having him sober for another hour, just one more, aroused Effie beyond belief.
But yes, he must be sober. Couldn't be even a little liquored up if he wanted to sleep with her. She never made some big proclamation. Haymitch caught on anyway. Because he called her up one time. Not wasted or anything, just tipsy enough to slur on certain words.
And it killed Effie's libido, in an instant. Snuffed her desires like a candle for the rest of the night. The rest of the week, in fact.
Haymitch took the hint, did his homework and the scene never repeated itself. And from then on out, he did all the calling. More practical than her having to guess. Maybe two, sometimes three days a week. Mostly it coincided with the twins's "piano and bedtime stories" routine. Nights when he was sober anyway.
Effie sighed where she lay on the bed, phone against her heart. Her gaze traveled upward.
"It's really too bad I don't have a mirror on the ceiling", she said. "That'd be something, right? I can have one installed in your bedroom as well. If you want me to?"
"Hell no", said Haymitch. "It's bad enough I have to see myself in the bathroom after my morning puke."
"My mirror would be just for me, of course", Effie continued, ignoring that last painted image. "I wouldn't bring men here or anything. In fact … I guess, what I'm trying to say is …"
" … you're not sleeping with anyone but me, yeah", Haymitch filled in.
Effie frowned.
"Um, correct. But you didn't … why are you laughing?"
"Sorry", Haymitch chuckled. "But is that meant to be some kind of news? Course I know you're not juggling other people. Why would ya?"
"No need to be so overconfident about it", Effie said. "I could have boyfriends! Someone I see while the twins are in Octavia, Flavius and Venia's care. I don't spend every waking moment with you, after all. I could sleep with half the town if I wanted to."
"Yeah, but ya don't want to", Haymitch said. The carefreeness in his voice grated on her, like a really dull cheese slicer. "If there was another guy in your life, I woulda known."
Effie huffed a breath.
"I don't skywrite the name of every single man that I date!"
"Since when?"
"Be nice, Abernathy or else maybe I'll never have sex with you again."
"Yeah: maybe."
"You're exhausting." Effie drew a sigh. "Fine", she said. "Fine, laugh at my expense. Laughing is good. Makes you live longer."
"Oh, don't pout, princess", Haymitch said. "It just means more Effs for me. I'm the luckiest guy alive!"
Effie rolled her eyes.
"You're only saying that because 'little Haymitch' is a-stirring deep in your pants again."
"I'm naked, sweetheart. And you should be proud of me, eh. A man of my age, able to go for a third round in one night. You know how special that is?"
"Oh God, can you be more ridiculous? What am I going to do with you?"
"Well, I can think of a few things", Haymitch mused. "But if you don't wanna join that's fine of course. I'll just engage in a little … self-help on my own, fantasizing 'bout the sexiest, most beautiful woman in Panem."
"And of course you also want it known", Effie interjected, "that 'the sexiest, most beautiful woman in Panem' is in no shape or form, me."
"No, it's you, sweetheart."
"Hm."
Haymitch let out a soft groan.
"Sorry. That was me. I just couldn't wait any longer. And given that my hand's around my cock right now, we should probably hang up, yes?"
He groaned again, then a third time and it annoyed her to no end that those sounds, every last one of them, went straight to her most private regions.
"Yeah", Haymitch said, breaths labored, "we should definitely call it a night, right princess? My junk's only getting harder and harder and more full. Especially when I rub my thumb over the tip, like this." And he groaned, loud without shame. A shudder ran through Effie – the most pleasant shivers imaginable – and she parted her legs a little. "I can already see a drop of precum", Haymitch continued. "Right there in the middle. Like a little pearl."
A groan slipped between Effie's lips. She couldn't help herself.
Oh, that infuriating man! I should never have told him how much I love dirty talk!
She held the phone steady against her heaving chest, whilst slipping her other hand in between her legs – to the sweet spot where she throbbed and ached for him.
His scent coming from the t-shirt around her pillow went straight to her head and Effie groaned, without restraint or control.
He would tease the hell out of her later. Boast that he had her wrapped around his little finger and knew exactly which buttons to push, but she didn't even care. Couldn't care less!
"So", Haymitch said, out of breath, "where are we, sweetheart? Cabin in the woods? Apple shed? Sailboat?"
Because he also knew how much Effie Trinket loved a good fantasy. Especially when she got to set the stage.
"Well", she said, "I was thinking maybe the Royal Library of Panem?"
"Wanna get caught again?"
"We were never caught!" Effie protested. "We were always almost caught."
"There's a difference?"
"Of course! Quite a big one too. And remember our number one rule, Haymitch. No judgement. This is a safe place for sexual expression. You don't see me complaining when you want to do it in 'my bed in Twelve, at sunrise, missionary position' again."
"You love it, sweetheart! Alright. Sexy times at the library. Alone. Got it. Anything else I need to know?"
"Yes", Effie said. "You're the hot librarian, about to lock up for the night. I'm an even hotter, ill-reputed infamous master thief with a bounty on my head. You catch me red-handed, trying to steal some of your most valuable books."
"A master thief who got caught?"
"Er, just this one time. And who knows, maybe I wanted to get myself caught when I saw how incredibly sexy you were in your suit and tie. Anywho, you threaten to call the authorities but I ask in my most seductive voice, a voice you cannot resist: 'Isn't there anything I can do to make you forget all about the police?'"
"Now we're talking!"
"And before we know it, books are thumping left and right as you thrust into me, up against the mahogany shelves, edging me and driving me out of my mind. You didn't even bother with a condom."
"Living on the edge, huh?"
"Well, that's the beauty of fantasy", Effie smiled. "You don't have to worry about the consequences. And you, you … you just couldn't wait. You had to take me. Give me everything."
"Yeah, like chlamydia."
"We're not contracting an STI!" Effie protested. "Gross!"
"Well, it is just some random hookup."
"Stop ruining the fantasy, Haymitch! We're perfectly in the clear."
"How do I know? I never met you before."
"Who cares! It's not real!"
"And then there's pregnancy to think of." She couldn't even tell if he was kidding or not. "Cause no way I'm gettin' you knocked up again, sweetheart. Not even in make-belief. Can't we just … add a vasectomy to the mix? Cause I don't think I'm cool with nutting all over those poor books either, if I'm honest."
"Fine", sighed Effie. "Whatever you need."
She didn't press the issue. Haymitch loved unprotected sex. He'd never admit it, but he did. They both did. But actively engaging in a fantasy where conception was the goal? No thank you.
Well, Effie wouldn't have minded. It wasn't a fantasy she'd ever yearned with other men, but the occasional "let's make a baby" with Haymitch? Yes. Seemed pretty nice.
But Haymitch wasn't at all down for that.
Phrases like "I'm gonna fill you up with warm, potent cum. Make your belly grow big and round with my child. Make you mine, for always" that caused Effie to tingle all over, just didn't do it for him.
Part of it was Games-related. The other one, well … She supposed it was rooted in guilt. He still carried a lot of it around, about causing her "fall from grace" when he got her pregnant, thus ruining her career and the very last remnants of her good reputation.
Didn't matter how many times she told him that one: it takes two to tango and two: out of all the good things he'd done in his life, giving her children was definitely in the top three.
She tried it only once – "Do you want to make a little brother or sister to Amy and Ian?" – but they never finished the fantasy because it made him so uncomfortable.
And seeing how the idea didn't agree with him very well, Effie made sure to never bring it up again. Haymitch would only grow paranoid, thinking she had baby fever – which she didn't!
Their two children were more than enough to make her happy. They were the apples of her eye. She loved watching them grow. Here. Out in the world. And what kind of a maniac would add another child to such chaotic circumstances as hers and Haymitch's anyway?
It wasn't baby fever, it was just … sometimes she missed it. Missed carrying them inside of her. Their little flutters and kicks. And then all the beautiful things they brought on in their father, as they grew. Haymitch, who missed so much of that pregnancy. Those nine months had been exhausting. Stressful too. In many ways and yet, it saddened her sometimes.
The fact that she'd never be pregnant again.