So I wrote a Hayffie thing...finally! This was supposed to Beta'd by the lovely eknightess but then I got impatient and posted this anyway. Pray for me, I'm sure to be yelled at.

The chapter title is based on a song by The Kinks that I think goes well with this chapter. Anyway, I couldn't resist a classic rock reference.

Rated T for future F-bombs and C-bombs and all sorts of bombs. I'm also planning pseudo-smut and violence. You have been warned.

~Sherlockingjay

Chapter 1: You Really Got Me

Haymitch was a terrible sleeper. He couldn't sleep when it was dark out; there were too many things to be afraid of. So he'd drink himself into a state, then he'd stumble around his house or the headquarters until it was morning…or he passed out.

He knew it wasn't healthy (not that he cared) or safe. Frankly, he hated his wakefulness. There were some positives, however, to being nocturnal, especially during the games. He knew more about Capitolian affairs than most Capitolians. And when no one was around, he saw the Avoxes speak. Not with their tongues, but with their hands. He also found out a lot about the new escort, Effie.

She was preparing herself for a burgeoning singing career (he'd heard her when she was in the shower, she sucked). She had a boyfriend called Nero Valentine with whom she argued frequently on the phone. Haymitch also knew exactly what she looked like without makeup.

He hadn't meant to spy on her. He was just about to start on his third (or was it fourth?) glass of whiskey when she came through the kitchen. He managed to slip into the pantry before she noticed him (she'd probably give him hell if he saw her in her nightgown) and involuntarily froze as he caught a peek through the crack in the door.

She was a tiny thing without her heels on. She wouldn't have been more than 5 foot, probably less. She had freckles sprinkled generously over her nose and cheeks and small ears that stuck out and tried to look big. She must have worn contacts during the day because her eyes were a bluey green that Haymitch had never seen before. And her hair was a real sight.

He didn't know what he'd expected, blonde maybe? But her hair was the brightest red he had ever seen, like flames made solid; fire that had been delicately crafted into individual strands. Light bounced off each one, making her whole head glow. He wondered briefly if the colour was natural, but why would anyone manufacture such a striking colour and then shove it under a wig?

He crouched down, watching her as she took a glass of water and a snack from the fruit bowl. Tomorrow he'd work out he was being creepy but he hadn't realised just yet. He stayed entranced by the softly lit flicker of her head, by the gentle curve of her hips and her ocean coloured peepers. He was thoroughly surprised. If she was painting her face so much, wouldn't she have something to hide? Apparently not.

Haymitch swayed a little where he was crouched, lost his balance and fell through the pantry door. He landed with a spectacular thud. Drunk and sleep deprived, he was in no condition to keep still for long periods of time. Effie whipped her flaming head in his direction, her lips pursed and her eyes hot. Before his drink-afflicted mind could comprehend a single thought, he ran.

He closed the door and, slumping against the wall, he let a low and quiet F-bomb pass through his lips. He'd had a weakness for memorable girls when he was younger. His girl, Tiff, had been 6 inches taller than him and built like a tank. And when he took a good, hard look at Maysilee, he fell for her elvish looks and her fantasy charm. They both ended up dead.

He didn't like Effie Trinket, not one bit. But that was the problem. He hated every value she stood for, how she embraced Capitol ideals as Word of God. He hated how excited she could get over kids murdering each other. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was a heartless, Capitol machine.

Haymitch needed to watch his step with his new colleague; she had him feeling sentimental. That was dangerous, real dangerous. The people he cared about had almost always died. That or they grew to hate him. But he kept telling himself he didn't care about Effie…did he? He didn't know much about her, she'd just come in this year. He'd rather die than feel anything but hatred for that woman.

He heard Effie yelling something from the other side of the door. He wasn't really listening. He just wanted her to leave.

"Lecture me in the morning, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?"

He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. She went on for a little while, something about etiquette and humility (did she even know the meaning of the word?!). After at least 10 minutes, she let out a small huff of annoyance. Her haughty footsteps drifted off down the hallway. Against all better judgement, he opened his door a sliver and took one last peek at the back of her head.

You're not doing yourself any favours, he told himself. Her firey locks burned an image in his brain that he couldn't drink out of his head. As long he lived, he wouldn't forget it.

But one thing he'd come to know was this: he'd find out exactly what a Girl on Fire was. This would happen 3 years before he met Katniss Everdeen, on this fateful day when he saw Effie without her frosting. They'd engulf him, both of them. And he'd never, ever be the same.

That was fun to write. I've always loved redheads (being half a ginger myself!) and I couldn't resist fire motifs, even if it is Katniss's thing.

I don't when I'll update again, I'm a such a slow writer. I'll try to update as quick as possible, I actually tried with this little number.

Please review, I desperately need you to inflate my ego. It might also make me update quicker.

~Sherlockingjay