Disclaimer: I own nothing, the characters belong to Suzanne Collins and so on and so forth.

AN: This is my first ever published Hayffie ficlet, so please, don't be too cruel to me. Have fun ^^

Game over

Another year had gone by too quickly and it was already time for the next Games. The whole process had turned into an unpleasant routine. Haymitch was completely drunk when Effie arrived at his house on the day of the Reaping. As always, she complained about his appearance and the state of his house, but Haymitch couldn't be bothered. She pulled him to his feet and managed to get him ready for the Reaping, so that he looked at least presentable. While doing so, they kept bickering about all and nothing; it had become their custom. Just in time, they made their way down to the Justice Building. No word was spoken on the way – another habit they had developed over the six years they'd been working together now. It helped both of them to bear the Reaping – Effie so she could keep up her cheerful façade, and Haymitch so he would distance himself enough to not fall into a flashback.

Once the Reaping was behind them, Haymitch immediately made his way to the train to find the next fully stocked liquor cart. He was craving the booze, although he already had his fair share of Ripper's strong brew that morning. Meanwhile, Effie remained at the Justice Building, waiting for the children to say their goodbyes to their families. Their tributes were a boy of only 12 years and a girl at the age of 15. Neither seemed to be born fighters, and Effie had already seen in Haymitch's eyes that he thought they wouldn't stand a chance. Once the children were back under her supervision, she escorted them to the train and showed them around a little, not in the least surprised that all this work was left to her by Haymitch.

The dinner was spent in peace. Effie was her usual bubbly self and blabbed about the food and the wonderful excitements that would await the kids in the Capitol. She tried her best to make them feel as well as possible with the aspect of the Games ahead of them. Haymitch sipped his whiskey with a straight face, not intending to show any emotion. The children didn't need to read the reasons why he kept drowning himself with liquor from his face. After dinner, the children very quickly excused themselves to their rooms, after Haymitch had dodged some inquiries about the Games.

"They'll be dead by the second day, if they are lucky," stated Haymitch, staring a hole in the air.

"Rude as always. And please, refrain from saying such things. Maybe the girl can make it," retorted Effie, repelled by the thought of the kids, who just had been sitting with them, lying dead on the ground.

"I don't know how you do that, sweetheart," he sneered at her, "You still hope after all these years. Impressive." The sarcasm was easily detectable, although Haymitch's words were slurred. Effie gave him a single chuckle, but stayed silent for a moment. Haymitch filled his glass once again and gulped down half of the liquor.

"I think you've had enough of that." Effie reached for the glass in his hands. At first, he wouldn't let go of it, but he eventually gave in. She got up to put it out of his reach, only to return and slightly nudge Haymitch's shoulders so he would stand up.

"Come on, Haymitch. Let me get you to your room. I'm not in the mood to pick you up in an hour or two, when you are completely sloshed, to drag you to your bed and most likely get thrown up on."

"Of course that's the reason why you want me there," Haymitch taunted, but got to his feet willingly.

"Yes. No other reason at all," she gave back, and the honesty in her answer was a little disturbing. Effie grabbed his arm to steady him and guided him to his compartment.

Once there, Haymitch pulled Effie inside and pinned her against the wall next to the door. His lips immediately crushed on hers but the kiss didn't last long. Effie struggled against his touch and shoved him away, so that Haymitch stumbled backwards.

"What are you thinking, Haymitch?! This goes too far, even for you!" she exclaimed, flabbergasted.

"Sweetheart, stop that show of yours. The room is bug free, you don't have to keep up your stand-offish attitude," he barked back. It hadn't been their first kiss after all – by far not their first kiss and it never had stopped at just a kiss. They had spent a fair amount of nights together in the last years.

"I know it's free of bugs. It always is. Removing them is one of the first things you do when entering the train. Comes right after getting hold of a bottle of liquor!" Effie stood her ground, walking towards the victor with an accusing glare on her face.

"What? Are you mad I went straight for a kiss instead of fighting with you first? Do you need the usual bickering as foreplay?!" gibed Haymitch, who was staring right back at her.

Her reaction was unsuspected. Instead of hitting back with another argument, Effie's expression went blank and she opened her mouth to just close it again. She seemed to have gotten even whiter, if that was even possible.

"You don't know," she whispered, and frowned. She averted her eyes from him and shook her head slightly. "How is that even… you are so uninformed about anything…"

"What are you going on about?" Haymitch asked. His voice was still expressing anger, but it was strained by worry that crept into his heart. "What don't I know, sweetheart?"

In answer she held her right hand out to him. An expensive ring with an uniquely cut diamond adorned her ring finger. Now it was Haymitch's turn to frown. He had seen her wearing various rings in the past and it took his drunken brain a tick too long to grasp the meaning of this particular one.

"I'm engaged, Haymitch. It was all over the news, therefore I thought you would know," she explained, due to the lack of a reaction from his side. Effie suddenly felt extremely exhausted and sat down on the edge of his bed without being invited to do so. To be fair, waiting for an invitation would have left her getting old.

Haymitch turned his back on her. She was too good at reading him and he didn't trust his poker face in this moment. He felt sick. Her announcement had come out of a clear sky and had left him feeling like he just had been punched in the stomach.

"Who's the lucky man?" he pressed out through gritted teeth. He tried to make it sound sarcastic, but it lacked the power.

"His name wouldn't tell you anything. He's in Capitol politics, though has nothing to do with the games itself. He'll be a good husband," answered Effie truthfully.

Haymitch reached for the liquor, which he had brought with him from Twelve. He gulped down a quarter of the bottle in the hope the throbbing ache in his chest would go away. Effie would have been delighted to snatch it from him in any other situation, but now she didn't move a finger.

"Well, if you wait for an apology for the kiss, you will be devastated to learn I won't apologize. You better leave now – you need your beauty sleep, as tomorrow will be another big, big, big day," he mocked her with his best imitation of her escort voice.

Giving in, Effie shook her head and walked to the door. She paused for a moment, her hand already on the door handle. Effie didn't dare to face him when she uttered the next words.

"It was not my idea. Women of my status ought to be married or at the very least promised to somebody at my age. My father arranged all of it, but it was sold as the perfect love story to the Capitol. I can't allow myself to let anybody get in between this marriage. I can't disappoint my parents once more. This is game over, Haymitch."

Her voice was low and the pain it expressed was unbearable. Effie had always thought of herself to be a strong woman, yet she had gotten part of this bargain. She didn't want to marry this man, but she had no other choice but to play along by the rules.

Haymitch smirked after taking another mouthful of liquor. "Fine, sweetheart. The only mistake you made was to think I would care. Have fun playing the cheerful wifey to a man you don't love." He spat out the words in a cold and detached manner.

They burned Effie's soul and although she wanted to respond with something equally painful, she couldn't find the means to do it. She just stepped outside his room and slammed the door shut behind her.

Silence was their best friend from then on. They spoke with each other neither for the remaining train journey nor at the Opening Ceremony, and they kept to the opposite corners of the room while the country was watching the tributes parade through the Capitol. Their friends as well as the journalists noticed the lack of their usual fights and bickering in public. By the end of the ceremony, Haymitch was completely drunk, and Effie hadn't said a thing about his behavior. She picked up the children and brought them back up to the penthouse without giving a second glance at Twelve's victor. Of course, it was a dangerous game she was playing, as she was neglecting her responsibilities as escort. In the end, it would have been her duty to handle Haymitch, and for once in all these years she acted like the escorts who had been there before her – and who all had quit after one year.

Chaff and Finnick, who had watched the whole spectacle with curious eyes, picked the barely conscious Haymitch up from the stool and carried him to the elevator.

"You know why Effie's acting so much like my dearest escort today?" asked Chaff, stifling a chuckle at his own hilarity. He had been drinking with his friend for a while, but had known his own limits.

"Well, besides of her being engaged – and we both know how protective our friend can get over her – I heard rumors of her transferring to District 2 next year to take Zipporah's place. Her fiancé should have had a hand in it. He didn't seem to like the thought of his wife-to-be only taking care of District 12 and its drunkard." Finnick nodded to Haymitch, but it was clear how his words were meant. Haymitch had been as much of a mentor as Mags since his victory four years ago. Plus, he had instantly welcomed Finnick to their little group of friends, consisting of Haymitch, Effie, Chaff and Mags at that time. Just last year, Johanna joined the group as well.

"She what?!," asked Haymitch, who seemed to have sobered up a little upon hearing this information.

"Rumors, Haymitch, I don't know anything for sure. You better ask her yourself, if this hadn't been the reason of the deathly silence between you two," answered Finnick, feeling bad for his friend. He knew Haymitch had a thing for Effie; he had seen it in his eyes more than once when they were sitting together in the penthouse in the past.

The elevator stopped on the twelfth floor and Haymitch staggered out of the cabin once the door opened. Finnick wanted to go after him to check he would be okay, but Chaff stopped him by putting his remaining hand on the younger's shoulder.

"They should sort that out on their own." It was his only remark, and both of them retreated to their respective floors of the trainings center.

"Effie Trinket, where are you?!" Haymitch's voice echoed through the whole penthouse.

He was standing in the middle of the living room, looking around like she would magically appear from behind one of the sofas. Just half a minute later, Effie came running, her high heels clicking away on the marble floor.

"Are you completely mad now?! You will scare the kids to death before they even reach the arena!" she screamed upon entering the room, thoughtfully closing the door behind her. The children would have to suffer enough; they wouldn't need to hear the fight that was boiling up.

"Yes, I am mad – mad at you! Is it true? Are you leaving for District 2?" Haymitch asked, directly as always, his voice shaking in anger.

His question unwillingly made her take a step back. She felt like he had slapped her in the face.

"Nothing is settled yet. But I might have gotten an offer," Effie answered, and pushed her chin a bit higher in the hope it would help her keeping her composure.

"And of course you are going to take it. Oh, it seems like the odds are finally in favor of Effie Trinket!" Haymitch snapped at her. Hatred was written all over his face.

"There is no reason I shouldn't take it. Why should I stay here with the victor who's the laughing stock of the Games?" she shot back and put her hands on her hips.

"Name-calling doesn't suit you, sweetheart." Haymitch reached for the bottle and took a mouthful.

"And drinking suits you too well." Effie stepped forward, trying to snatch the bottle from his fingers. His grip was fiercer than she thought; she used more force to extract it from him and somehow the bottle ended up shattering on the floor.

"Do that one more time and I won't guarantee how I react, sweetheart." Haymitch blared out the threat and his glare underlined his words. He had never raised his hand at another person without a good reason – and liquor definitely wasn't one – but he was too angry at Effie to think properly. The spilling of liquor was a welcome excuse to let him lose his temper.

Effie stared at him right back in the eyes, both breathing heavily, neither of them was willing to give in.

"Why are you angry anyway, hm? I thought Haymitch Abernathy wouldn't care," she accused, not letting her gaze drift off for a second – and a second would have been enough to miss the little twitch of his eyes, which pronounced him guilty. "But you do," she breathed out.

"Don't be ridiculous. I can't be happier to finally get rid of you. It's like my dream came true," he barked, but averted his eyes. He couldn't keep staring at her blue eyes any longer. "Just like yours: fame and fortune for Mrs. Soon-not-anymore-Trinket." Haymitch turned around facing the windows.

Effie felt a piercing pain in her heart with every word he uttered. Were these actually his thoughts? In all those years they had thrown many bad things at the other's heads, but it always had been truths. They had never lied. At least she thought so, as she never had been able to lie to him.

"Shut up, Haymitch," she murmured. Her anger was gone and she felt more wounded than at any other point in her life. All she wanted to do was wrap her arms around his middle and burrow her head in his shoulder blades. Effie almost reached out, before realizing how utterly stupid this idea was.

"You can't stop me," he answered, and his voice sounded calmer as well. They spent one or two minutes in silence. Neither of them moved. Suddenly silence was louder than every angry shouted word.

Finally Effie broke it.

"I don't dream of fame and fortune anymore. And this didn't change lately as result of the aspect that I might actually have both in future. It changed three years ago," she confessed and hoped he would understand it.

At that time they had started their little affair. In the beginning it had only been a convenient method to shut the other up during a heated argument with a harsh kiss. Soon the kissing turned into groping and then it developed into hard sex where always one fought to get the upper hand. Last year it had evolved some more as their sexual activities had gotten more affectionate.

Effie had been yearning for his touch since the day he had departed for District 12. But it had gotten unimportant after her father had announced that she was promised to the son of one of his business partners.

"I don't like what you are implying, sweetheart. You better run before it's too late," he almost growled at her.

"Thanks for the advice, Haymitch, but I gather it's already too late."

Haymitch turned back to her, and his face expressed the pain he felt. He wouldn't allow himself to get her in trouble. Nobody he ever loved had stayed alive. He would never risk her life that easily.

"In this case, stop it. Whatever it is you are feeling, stop it. This is our last year together. You go and marry your Capitol peacock; I will go back to my liquor in Twelve. Next year you will be the escort of District 2. Should we attend the same party next year, we both will ignore each other like we have never spoken before. That goes for the rest of our time being alive. Got it, Trinket?" he decided and a part of his heart shattered at the imagination of how his life would be without her.

"Don't treat me like a child, Haymitch," she retorted and folded her arms. "But your plan sounds good. The only mistake you made is to think that I would agree with what seems good to you."

Haymitch let out a painful sigh. Why must this woman be so difficult?

"Princess, could you for once not argue back?"

"I would die before agreeing with you," said Effie deadpan. "But I most likely will take the job as escort of Two – just because it's what my father and my fiancé seem to have agreed on in the terms and conditions of our wedding. But believe me, there won't be much happening on the ignoring part, Haymitch. We probably will share one more games together, even if I'm not your escort anymore. My fiancé will expect me to have a child with him and therefore I will have to quit. You don't even understand how much of a sold woman I am right now."

Effie sat down while talking, because her knees more or less gave in. She hadn't dared to utter any of these words before – she hadn't known who to tell. Her capitol friends wouldn't listen to this kind of borderline treason talk, and it wouldn't be safe for her to trust somebody with it. Only Haymitch – he had always been her exception.

The victor himself was left speechless. He had been thinking about this thing all those days but his brain had been too soaked with jealousy to grasp how bad her situation really was.

"How dare they do this to you?" he whispered.

Effie was only a caricature of herself. Her attire was still there but the power had been blown. She had slumped in the chair, shoulders down, smiles long faded – he had never seen her like that before. As answer, she only shrugged. She couldn't tell her thoughts about the reasons, without crying, and she was not willing to give Haymitch the pleasure of seeing her crying her heart out.

"You can't allow that. Be yourself, Effie! Be loud; argue for your dear life. Fight them like you fight me. They can't be much ruder as I normally get." He cracked a smile and sat down on the floor by her feet.

"It's too late, Haymitch," she gave back.

"It's never too late, sweetheart." His eyes were shiny and Effie thought for a second they weren't talking about decisions taken away from her only. Her heartbeat hammered against her chest; she clenched her teeth and her mouth formed a straight line. She wanted so badly to lean forward and kiss him. They looked at each other in silence for a few seconds but it seemed to last for minutes.

"Don't let them take away the only person I thought I could stay with," Haymitch told her quietly, knowing very well that he was selfish by saying that. He should have formulated it differently but he couldn't. Slowly, he reached out and cupped her cheek with his hand.

Effie closed her eyes and creased her face into a pained expression. He nearly drew his hand back, but hers shot up and to hold it in place. She pressed her face into his hand and Haymitch pulled her carefully down into his lap and embraced her tightly.

"I love you, too," she pressed out, but it was barely a whisper against his neck. Silent tears were running over her face now. They held onto each other for a while, each enjoying the warmth of the other and the new conditions of their relationship. It would have taken them years to get to this point without the current situation.

"We will find a way, sweetheart. I promise you. Politics are a dangerous, life-threating place to be. Tell them you want one more year as my escort, yes? It's not game over like you said on the train. The games are never over and this in particular is very not over, sweetheart." he said and brushed his lips against hers.

Neither of them wanted to think about what was implied in his request – only about the here and now. That's what counted: being inseparable together.

AN: I really hope you enjoyed it and I would be very happy if you'd leave a review so I can evolve my writing skills any further. Thanks for reading! x