Sharpe was not so easily surprised, except that this surprised him quite a lot. As Effie's arms sank 'round him, he turned to steel. Defensive. It wasn't that affection was unappreciated -- there was a very real and present urge to gather the woman close and let instincts take over. Tilt back her head; steal a kiss. But these were things he would not do -- not because she was Effie Trinket, for he'd kissed worse enemies than her without a second thought. But because of a bright-eyed admiral's daughter who still waiting upon his courtship.

The Major settled on patting her gently on the back -- low, so as to avoid the wings -- and letting her settle there against his chest. Much, he realised, as he'd come accustomed to allowing Katniss to hug him. "...What are you on about, lass?" He asked -- at last somewhat gentle in his tone.