Disclaimer: I don't own this sexy pair. Boo sob.

A/N: Hey everyone! Whilst working out how to continue with my other Hayffie fic, Ruins, this just sprung to mind and I couldn't shift it unless I got it down. . .

The Poster

"Effie! Effie!" He bellowed, swaying down the corridor towards her room,"EFFFIIIEEE." She was going to kill him for charging round the penthouse, shouting her name, in the middle of the night. Manners, his drinking and all the rest of it.

He was going to change the schedule for tomorrow though. He was going to change the schedule. She was going to hate this. But somewhere in his drunken haze, he was reasoning it, surely it would be better to tell her now than tomorrow? Or not telling her at all? He didn't just want to see her. . . He didn't just want to see her.

"Effieeee." He drawled out, approaching her room. He leant his head against her bedroom door, eyes closed, whispering her name.

"Effie?" he pushed the door open cautiously, his blurry eyes squinting in the dim lit.

She wasn't in there.

His brow furrowed, and he felt the smell of lilies tingle in his nostrils. Her smell. Haymitch steadily took in his surroundings- the lit mirrors, the exotic flowers, the mahogany vanity table. He saw her pink wig propped up on a stand, rows and rows of lotions and potions lined perfectly.

His ears finally caught up with his eyes and nose, and he could hear running water coming from her en suite. He suddenly felt his mind wander to beyond the door. . . her wet, pliant body in nothing but those ridiculous heels she liked to wear. . .

Haymitch mentally shook himself, bloody Capitol woman, and he shuffled from side to side suddenly feeling very out of place in the brash pink and purple decor, and ran a hand through his lank, blonde hair. Leave. Now. Idiot.

He inched to leave, but something caught his eye; a battered trunk poking out from underneath her bed. Miss Effie Trinket was emblazoned on the side in faded, pink swirly writing. It looked so unrefined, so totally out of place from the rest of her perfectly maintained room. He bit his lip and grimaced a little; the curiosity was burning at his finger tips.

With the sound of water still running, and alcohol surging through his blood stream, he couldn't resist it. He fell to floor unceremoniously and his hands gripped the sides and without further hesitation he quickly pulled it out.

When he flung the top open, he was faced with an array of pictures and documentation. He saw her District 12 escort acceptance letter tucked into the lid, sniffing distastefully at the Capitol emblem printed at every corner. Haymitch frowned a little when he felt his heart skip a beat, pulling out an old photograph of who he presumed to be a young Effie, twirling in a little blue dress and grinning maddily up at the camera, her hair in some crazed, curly ribbon affair. She looked a little ridiculous but totally happy. Like she is now.

He sifted around a little more, until his sapphire eyes fixed on something else; a long brown tube stored right at the bottom. He pulled it out, papers and pictures falling out of the trunk.

Haymitch couldn't help his jaw dropping and his eyebrows shooting up to his forehead when he popped off the lid and looked inside. He let out an uncontrolled bark of laughter as he rolled out a large poster tied up with string.

It was a life size poster of none other than Mr Haymitch Abernathy. It had the Hunger Games Second Quarter Quell logo printed across the bottom, and in front of the District 12 flag was a young, steely eyed Haymitch staring fiercely up into the distance, his strong jaw slightly jutted out and his muscular arms folded across his chest. His long blonde hair was slicked back, and his eyes were a remarkable, impenetrable blue. It was old, only sold for publicity at the time of the games.

He was too busy laughing to himself to hear the en suite door open and a petit blonde stepping out from the steam.

"Haymitch!" Her shrill Capitol accent cut the air, and for a few seconds he forget the hilarity of the situation when he saw her bare faced, wet and clad in only a towel. He felt himself sober up drastically when he met her deep green eyes.

Her disbelieving glare was belied by her reddening cheeks and slight shiver of exposure. Her eyes only widened in shock and humiliation when she saw what he was holding in his hands.

The moment was over, Effie flying across the room as she shrieked at him, even over two decades after the Second Quarter Quell, and years of sleeping with a knife- regardless of the alcohol- he was still fairly agile, leaping over her bed and round her table.


He was howling and grinning like a mad man, "No chance sweetheart! This is gold, completely gold. All these years- I didn't realise I had a fan so close to home!"

"HAYMITCH give that back to me right now or I swear I will make your life a living hell"

He jumped over her loveseat, his face irrepressibly gleeful, "Did you have this pinned up on your wall for years princess? Little Effie Trinket crushing on a District 12 tribute?"

She was mortified now, her features bristling with anger which only made him laugh harder. He danced around, the large poster trailing behind him, as she tried to chase after him clinging onto her towel. Effie continued to scream murderously at him, and he was utterly thrilled at the reaction he was getting.

"Mrs Effie Abernathy, I can see it written all over your notebooks now!" He mocked, spinning around to face her, only to be confronted by her body slamming into his up against the vanity table, the whole thing swinging briefly on two legs before slamming back down, bottles dropping to the floor.

Pinning him up against the mahogany, the sudden, aggressive thrust of her body made his pants tighten. His body was suddenly fast betraying him, with this lithe, elegant creature writhing unknowingly against him. He still couldn't help but dangle the poster just out of reach. Effie pushing against him a fraction further, her hot breath tickling his cheek. Attempting a reach to grab it, but failing as he held it infinitesimally higher. Oh how he adored pushing her buttons.

"How about I make you a deal?" He smirked, enjoying watching her soft lips contort as she tried to reach over him again.

"Give it to me Haymitch!" She growled, her normally powdered cheeks still flushed red like an embarrassed school girl.

"If I sign this poster for you like the generous man I am" he continued "You have to hang it above your bed or on your door for all to see!"

She made another grab for it, "You've got some nerve you drunken, idiotic-"

"It's ok sweetheart, you want a piece of me-"

Effie clipped one of his ears and he yelped out in pain, and she lurched forward and snatched the poster from his hand and she held it firm behind her back. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction, her lips twisted upwards in triumph. He tried not to analyse the sensation igniting inside him seeing that fire burst in her eyes.

"If anyone hears about this Haymitch Abernathy you are dead, do you understand me?" One finger prodding him in the chest, as she stared up at him, her eyes burning into his. She really was a fair bit shorter than him bare foot, but he could still feel her breath against his lips.

Haymitch grinned infuriatingly; his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper, "Whatever you say, princess. Don't worry . . . it's only natural." His blue eyes dazzled with humour, darkening as his gaze quickly dropped over her barely-covered body; he was never going to let her live this down.

A/N: Not gonna lie guys. . . my Hayffie feels are telling me this needs an M rated chapter 2. . . thoughts? Minx xx