Propt : Hello. I'm in love with your one shots. Seriously, they make my heart sing. ANYWAY: I'd love to see an early Hayffie relationship. Either Effie as a new escort and avid fan meeting Haymitch for the first time, or maybe young Effie supporting Haymitch in his games and having a crush and getting to meet young Haymitch, either one, I guess! Or if you're feeling particularly adventurous I'd love to read a Fairy Tale AU- interpreted however you want- Little Red Riding Hood... Cinderella... etc. :)

I showed that to Akachan and she begged for a Peter Pan twist. We're having a disagreement on the "Haymitch is so Peter" theory but… Nobody could deny Effie has Tinkerbell-like qualities.

Be warned, this is a bit crack.

Second Star to The Right

Haymitch was staring at his glass of whiskey, marveling at the strange color. Whiskey usually wasn't pink – he might be very, very drunk but he knew that much. Although it wasn't really pink… If he lifted it that way, it looked blue. Or maybe purple. Or maybe a sort of blue-purple.

"You okay, there, Haymitch?"

Haymitch waved away Peeta's concerns without even a glance in the direction of the couches on which his new victors, their stylists and his escort were sitting. It was all a lot less interesting than his mysteriously colored whiskey. Maybe it wasn't whiskey… Maybe he had asked for something else after their trip to Seven… He couldn't remember anything except for the freezing exchange of gibes between Effie and Johanna and Katniss' butchering of the speech the escort had prepared for her. Then there had been the awkward dinner with Seven's Mayor and then… The whiskey became green and he forgot to try and remember.

Green was a good color. He liked green.

Effie was wearing green that day. A short sparkling dress with long puffy see-through sleeves that he had made fun of that morning but it actually looked good like most of Cinna's design.

The whiskey was the same green as her dress, a lime green. Maybe he was drinking lime. He hated lime but he hated Effie as well so it should have been alright. The thought made him chuckle.

"Haymitch?" It was Cinna's voice and he sounded a bit concerned.

Haymitch tried to turn his head to look at the man but the setting sun was reflecting on the train's ceiling and he followed the sunrays with his eyes instead. It made strange forms, it was quite hypnotic.

"He's drunk." Katniss said dismissively.

He sat up straighter to protest the accusation even though it might be a little bit true but the room was spinning around him. He felt dizzy, he wanted air. He used the armrest to scramble on his feet but he had to hold out his arms to keep his balance. He could feel every vibration of the train under him.

"Take it easy." Peeta suggested, grabbing one of his arms.

He shrugged the boy's grip off and stumbled to the window. He struggled with the mechanism until Peeta finally took pity on him and cracked the window open. A gush of wind immediately rushed in and both Effie and Portia shrieked in distress at the idea that it would mess with their wigs. Haymitch didn't care about that at all, he leaned closer and would probably have pass his whole head through the gap if Peeta hadn't kept such a strong hold on his shirt. The wind was almost slapping his cheeks, the train was moving so fast… It felt like flying.

"We're flying." he told Peeta when the boy tugged him back inside.

"Yeah, sure, we are." the boy didn't seem particularly convinced.

"You have to believe you're flying or you can't fly!" Haymitch scolded him. "Don't you know the story, boy?"

He didn't even know himself what he was talking about until those precise words escaped his mouth. And then the story came back line by line and it all became very clear to him.

"The story. What story?" Peeta used his moment of reflection to steer him back to the chair.

"I'm Peter Pan!" He rolled his eyes. Really… Peeta should know better. "I can fly. We're flying. We're going to Neverland!"

"Oh my god." That was Effie's voice and it was followed by a lighter touch on his forehead that Peeta would have never been able to give. You couldn't really expect a lost boy to act caring even for his fearless leader. "Haymitch, how much did you drink? You said you were just having one glass. How much?"

He collapsed back on the chair, everything was spinning around him and he wondered if flying had always been so uncomfortable…

"Did that ever happened before?" Cinna asked.

"No." Katniss sounded worried. Girls, he thought.

"It could be alcohol poisoning..." Portia suggested.

Haymitch forced himself to focus on the people surrounding him. It was natural that Wendy-Katniss and Tiger-Lily-Portia would fuss on him yet he couldn't help but laugh out loud at the sight of a merman-Cinna…

"It's not alcohol poisoning." Effie argued, obviously distressed. "I put some sleep syrup in his soup at dinner. He promised me he would only drink one glass."

"Haymitch never drinks one glass." Wendy-Katniss snapped at her. "Why did you do that?"

"Don't talk to her like that." he growled at the girl before pointing an accusing finger at her. "Happy thoughts or you can't fly."

"Our rooms are close. I heard him screaming in his sleep every night this week but he refused my help… I just thought… Haymitch…" Effie brushed her hand against his cheek and he turned his head her way. She was crouching next to his chair, a distressed expression on her face. "Do you know where you are?"

"With you." he replied not understanding why she wanted him to state the obvious. Her wings were all tucked up around her arms but she was still sparkling. "You're so beautiful… Such a pretty fairy…"

"Fairy?" Lost-boy-Peeta asked. "Who is Effie?"

"Is it really the time for stupid questions?" Wendy-Katniss retorted. "He could be dying!"

"Wendy is stupid." Haymitch rolled his eyes and tapped the boy's arm. "We're kicking her out, tell the other lost boys."

"You can count on me." Lost-boy-Peeta agreed readily before turning to Wendy-Katniss. "I don't think he's dying…"

"He looks like he's having a hell of a bad trip." Merman-Cinna shrugged. "Peter Pan isn't the best childhood story to be hallucinating about."

"I'm Wendy…" Wendy-Katniss cringed suddenly. "Why am I Wendy? Isn't Wendy his girlfriend or something?"

"It depends on the interpretations." Tiger-Lily-Portia offered. "She's also seen as a wish for motherly love. Or… filial in this instance, I suppose."

"You can all psychoanalyze him later." Effie snapped. "Peeta, please, be a dear and help me carry him to his room."

"I don't need carrying." Haymitch protested. "I'm Peter Pan, I can fly. Give me pixie dust." He reached a grabby hand for the pixy dust covering her dress but it refused to come off, it was glued to the fabric.

"Effie, you're Tinkerbell." Tiger-Lily-Portia gasped with delight.

"Of course, she's Tinkerbell." Haymitch mumbled. He stopped his hopeless quest for pixy dust and shot to the curly golden wig on her head. It was shining. She was shining. Light seemed to ripple on her. "So pretty…"

"I don't think you should be concerned about his feelings for you, Wendy." Lost-boy-Peeta snorted. Wendy-Katniss only glared. That was it, Haymitch decided, he was kicking her out of Neverland. She really didn't grasp the concept of having happy thoughts. "Come on, Peter. I will help you to your room, we're all out of pixy dust."

Tinkerbell-Effie grabbed Tiger-Lily-Portia's hand to stand up too and Haymitch found himself at eye-level with her. "You're tall for a fairy, sweetheart." He let Lost-boy-Peeta guide him through the corridors, admonishing him about being careful of Hook from time to time. He wasn't too worried about the pirate, Tinkerbell-Effie was following right behind them and she would protect him, pixie-dust was irrelevant. She was his best friend, wasn't she? Peter Pan and Tinkerbell in Neverland until the end of time…

"Are you sure you don't need help, Effie? It wasn't your fault, you don't need to take care of him by yourself…" Lost-boy-Peeta offered.

Haymitch must have spaced out because he was now lying on his back in his bed and Tinkerbell-Effie was thanking Lost-boy-Peeta for his help before closing the door. She floated back to the bed, her long puffy wings shimmering around her arms…

"Take me flying." he demanded, outstretching his hand.

"Not right now, dear." she objected. She ducked in the bathroom and Haymitch didn't have the necessary energy to get up and follow her. He tried to think about happy things but nothing came and he didn't manage to fly. She came back though and sat on the bed next to him so it wasn't that bad. She placed a wet towel on his forehead. "I feel torn between apologizing until I'm hoarse and scolding you for drinking when you promised me you would refrain all day."

There were too many big words in that sentence for him to even try to understand what she was talking about.

"Tinkerbell… Tinky… Tinkle…" he half sighed and half sing-sang, tugging on her arm, careful not to touch her silky shimmering wings. She struggled for a while and then simply surrendered and laid down next to him after placing the towel on the floor. He snuggled against her warm body.

"Please, don't die of poisoning." she requested, softly brushing his hair out of his eyes. "There would be a lot of paperwork to hand in if you do."

They were laying on their side, facing each other, and Haymitch's mind was slowly turning far away from happy thoughts – or innocent for that matter. Her eyes were very blue, just like a clear summer sky, and her mouth was painted red. Her silver eyelashes were unnaturally long and they kept fluttering like two skittish birds.

"I am a bit upset not to be Wendy, I have to admit." she confessed. "Why am I the fairy? Aside for the fact that she is quite annoying. I think your subconscious isn't very subtle."

He frowned, distracted from his quiet observation of her face and not really understanding her question. "Wendy isn't forever. You are."

Her pretty red mouth gaped open and he obeyed the primitive pull in his chest. He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers tentatively and, when she didn't respond, a bit more firmly.

"What are you doing?" she whispered uncertainly.

He was careful of her wings when he passed an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. "Flying." he murmured against her lips. "A different kind. Better than pixy dust."

Her nails dug painfully in his shoulder when he kissed her properly. He wondered if all fairies had claws like hers and then he completely forgot to think. That was how flying should feel, he decided, not the uncomfortable dizzying feeling of the room spinning around him but his heart leaping happily in his chest.

"Second star to the right and straight on 'till morning." She smiled when their mouths finally drifted apart. He wanted to kiss her again but she drew her head back a little, she looked sad. It wasn't a good look for a fairy. "You will eventually forgive me for the hallucinations, Haymitch, but you will never forgive me if I take advantage of them."

A lot of big words again.

"Can you stop talking in fairy gibberish?" he whined.

"You need sleep." She pressed a kiss on his forehead.

"Peter Pan never sleeps." he argued but he was cut off by his own surprising yawn. "I want to fly again, sweetheart."

"We can fly later if you still want to." she promised. "You have to rest now."

"I'm not tired." he protested but she didn't let him get up and after some time, he gave up and stayed right where he was. He busied himself by counting her eyelashes.

He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he woke up in the middle of the night, her dead weight half on his chest. He barely had time to push her out of the bed before he was throwing up all over himself and the covers. Her initial yelp at being thrown out morphed into a disgusted face as soon as she realized what had happened.

Effie didn't look much like Tinkerbell anymore. Her dress was creased beyond repair, her make-up was all smudged and her wig was crooked.

His stomach churned again and he shot past her to the bathroom.

"I'm going to be so pissed off at you in a minute, sweetheart." he grumbled, once he was sure he was done throwing up the totality of his stomach's content. He leaned against the wall, trying to recall most of his evening only to remember some confusing parts about dust, Peter Pan and a kiss that felt like flying. Effie kneeled next to him and dabbed at his face with her bloody wet towel like it was the answer to every damn thing.

"You shouldn't have drunk." she replied.

"You shouldn't have put something in my glass." he shouted back. He wasn't entirely sure that was what had happened but his brain was telling him she was responsible.

She rolled her eyes. "Actually, it was in your soup and at least you didn't have any nightmare. Try to see the bright side."

"Cinna with a fish tale counts as a nightmare in my book." he mumbled, snatching the towel from her hands to press it against his neck, hoping it would help reduce the nausea. "What did I do?" His memories were fuzzy.

"Nothing more embarrassing than usual." She rubbed her eyes tiredly, forgetting about her make-up. It was even more ridiculous now.

"Did I kiss you?" he asked bluntly. That particular memory was seared in his brain and felt too real to be an hallucination.

"Well…" She flushed red. "You called it flying but I suppose it falls into the realm of kissing, yes. I think you were all out of pixy dust."

He blinked slowly and then shook his head. He regretted it immediately when a headache of hell kicked in.

"Help me back to the bed." he ordered more than he requested.

She managed to get him back on his feet and he leaned heavily against her to walk out of the bathroom but then they froze. The bed was an apocalyptic mess. It made him feel sick again and she turned a little green herself.

"You can sleep in my room and I will go to Portia's." she decided. "The staff will clean this up tomorrow."

He accepted with a grateful nod – even though it was her fault for getting meds mixed up with alcohol in the first place – but once she had helped him in her bed and moved as if to leave, he grabbed her wrist, lifting a corner of the cover with his free hand with a challenging smirk.

"That's isn't really proper." She wrinkled her nose. "And you reek."

He rolled his eyes and gave her back her freedom.

"Just so you know…" he said as she was leaving. She paused in the doorway. "Next time I'm taking you flying, it won't be just kissing. Better be ready, Tinkerbell."

She huffed, she would have probably slammed the door if the whole train hadn't been sleeping but she had to be content with a mere glare.

Haymitch only winked.