She was quiet. She was delicate. She also had a sweetly vague air about her that made people speaking with her drop their guard and divulge their deepest, darkest secrets. She also had a temper like lightning when things didn't go according to plan, as Finnick Odair was quickly finding out.
"I've told you for the tenth time," he grated, a hint of strained patience noticeable in his voice. "I tacked a post-it to your monitor advising you that the therapy order was being changed. How exactly is it my fault that you didn't see it?"
Tangled dark hair swung about like a flail as she wheeled her chair around to face him. Finnick took a quick step back as sea green eyes flashed a promise of mayhem in his direction. "Show me where exactly in our procedures book that it advises the proper method of changing therapy protocol is to stick a post-it onto a computer monitor," Annie growled. "If you deviate from the original plan, you have to let me know; otherwise I'm completely out of the loop when we get to the personal sessions. Not only do I look like an idiot but it undermines the process, Finnick. Even a pompous ass like you should be able to appreciate that fact."
Finnick felt his cheeks heat followed by his temper. "Quick to go for the low blow, honey?" His gaze swept her from head to toe and she stiffened in outrage. "Everyone else in this office can get by without having every little detail done according to procedure. Why should you be any different? Loosen up your corset and live a little. If you need any help, I'm more than happy to be of service." She sputtered an incoherent reply, her face getting progressively redder. Finnick appeared to lose all interest as he perched on the corner of the desk, feet swinging, and popped sugar cubes into his mouth.
"How dare you!" she screeched. "Just who the hell do you think you are?"
Finnick shook his head in amusement. "I was just making a friendly offer. You seem stressed. It's not healthy for you to maintain such a high level of tension. If you're not careful, you will burn yourself out. I merely asked if I could do something to assist you as any good co-worker and friend would."
Annie pulled herself up proudly and glowered at him. "Whatever gave you the idea that I would turn to you of all people to help with stress relief?" she spat. "I've seen how you operate, Odair, and I have no intention of being a member of your harem. You can keep your opinions and your assistance to yourself. I'm not interested." She grabbed her notes and swept out of the room, long brown locks waving furiously behind her.
Haymitch, who had witnessed the entire exchange from the safety of his office door, turned to scowl at the shell-shocked redhead. "Boy, you do realize that she could file a complaint on you for that little stunt. There's no way I can save your hide if she does and wants to push it."
Finnick grimaced at the old man and popped another sugar cube into his mouth, eyes thoughtful. "She really went off on me, didn't she? I didn't think she had it in her. All that spit and sass in such a little package." He smirked at Haymitch. "Don't worry, old man. I'll fill out her damned form from now on. And I won't offer to show her any of my special relaxation techniques. I wouldn't want to offend her feminine sensibilities."
Haymitch snickered, "See that you don't. Don't need any more paperwork around here. I'm buried as it is." He staggered back into his office, slamming the door. Finnick rolled his eyes, then let his gaze wander back to the door she had stalked out of in such high dungeon. Who would have dreamed that Annie Cresta would fire up like that? Finnick's lips curled up as his mind furiously plotted his next move. No, he wouldn't offer to help with her relaxation techniques anymore. His plan called for a direction that was quite the opposite of that course of action. If she could explode so marvelously over a trivial matter like a post-it, he couldn't wait to see the superb rampage she was capable of when something truly didn't go her way. Hands in his pockets, Finnick leisurely strolled back to his desk to strategize his next maneuver.
She lost herself in the simple repetitive motions. There was a certain beauty in being able to do one thing well. After years of practice and honing the skill to perfection, thinking became secondary to the action itself. Muscle memory took over, ingrained reflexes in command, timing set by redundancy. Feet shoulder width apart, fingers precisely placed. Arrow nocked and drawn back in one smooth motion lining up with the lobe of the ear. Steadying the shaft with a finger before swinging free. Breath inhaled and released in time for the let go. The quivering stop once the target is acquired.
She had been at it for hours, duplicating this one action over and over as if the act in itself could block out those things she wished to avoid. She had broken. She had given in. She had let down her walls and opened up. It was not to be borne. To allow her to feel was unacceptable. To love again unbearable. Katniss hissed in fury as she pulled the bow, causing the arrow to veer off target. Stupid. So stupid. She had only known him for five days. That was much too short of a time for him to affect her in this fashion. He had crept past all her defenses and now refused to leave. She wished she had never laid eyes on him. She wished he was here with her now.
Another miss and Katniss decided that the insulating value of target practice had been spent. She cleaned up her equipment, put everything back into the varying slots and decided to call it a day. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she headed for the parking lot. An early night with a good book, a cold drink, and her stupid cat was all she could think about. Maybe the usual routine would soothe her enough to block out the memories of those stolen moments on the roof. Maybe she could convince herself that it had all been just a dream, that it wasn't real. Yeah, right. Who was she trying to fool?
She was startled to see a reclining figure propped up on her Jeep. Short brownish hair and brown eyes easily identified as Johanna Mason. Katniss sighed. She owed Johanna an apology for running out on her. Johanna didn't know the full story and Katniss had never felt the urge to enlighten her. The past was dead and gone and she was the only one who still had to deal with that reality. Johanna had just been caught in the rubble when Katniss fell apart. She wouldn't let it happen again.
"I've been waiting for you. I need your help," Johanna announced. "You are my only hope so you can't say no."
Katniss eyed her wearily. So much for my grand plan, she thought to herself. "What's up, Jo? Where's your not so better half?"
Johanna tossed her a languid grin. "He's off with the boys plotting a strategy for Finnick. Apparently, he's found someone new to torture. You know what that means. At least we'll have some good entertainment for the next couple of weeks. Finnick with a crush is worth its weight in gold."
Katniss grinned at the thought of Gale assisting Finnick with one of his schemes to pursue yet another unsuspecting female. The last time had resulted in some very revealing pictures of Finnick wearing what looked like fishing net around his hips and little else. The fact that he was also toting a trident only added to the fun. The girl apparently had an appreciation for Greek and Roman mythology and Finnick had decided that was the perfect opening.
Needless to say, the gesture failed miserably and Finnick had to suffer through a plethora of fishing jokes, songs featuring sea lyrics, and comments that maybe he had used the wrong bait. He handled it gracefully with a ready smile and quick retort. Katniss, however, could see the hidden vulnerability he tried so desperately to stifle. She didn't join in the teasing, choosing instead to commiserate over their mutual bad luck with relationships and eat sugar cubes. She dreaded to see what this particular round would bring. Finnick was notorious for his willingness to go to any length in the pursuit of love and happiness.
"What do you need me to do?" Katniss asked as she threw her bag into the rear seat. She propped herself up by Johanna and regarded her cautiously. "I refuse to get involved with Finnick's plans. The last time, I was forced to drive him around for hours on a stakeout because she knew his car. We almost got arrested. Luckily, the cop knew Haymitch and thought we were out looking for one of the program kids. I swore that was the last time, Johanna. So count me out."
Johanna burst out laughing at the mental image of Katniss and Finnick cruising some poor girl's neighborhood. "I would love to hear that story another time. That's not why I need your help, though. Gale has abandoned me for the evening and I refuse to go home alone. You must keep me entertained. It's your duty as my friend."
Katniss groaned. Just as she suspected. So much for a quiet evening at home. "Fine," she mumbled. "But I'm not going out. You can come home with me if you want. I don't know how exciting it will be for you, but it's better than nothing."
Johanna cheerfully agreed and swung herself into the Jeep's passenger seat. Katniss had put the car in reverse when Johanna announced, "Annie is coming over, too. She was pretty upset when I ran into her earlier. I told her to meet us at your place in an hour. So if you don't have provisions, we need to stop for liquor and snacks."
Katniss didn't bother to voice any objection. She knew a losing battle when she saw it. "Fine," she groused. "Snacks and liquor it is. What has Annie upset?"
Johanna shrugged. "Some jerk called her uptight and offered to help her loosen up. She's furious. I'm surprised she didn't smack the guy. Annie's got something of a temper when you get her riled."
Katniss laughed. "Sounds like something Finnick would say. Guess it's a good thing he wasn't around or he would be the one offering. Heaven help us if that ever happens." Johanna chuckled, nodding her head in agreement. Those two together would be like gas with a match lit. Kaboom!
Gale and Finnick were already on their third beer apiece when the rest of the party strolled into the bar. Gale lifted a hand and waved him over, then turned to his downcast friend. "I'm sure we'll think of something, Finnick. It's way too early to give up. From what you've told me, she doesn't even know you're interested. Besides, I've called in reinforcements. He's having a similar problem; maybe between the two of you, you can come up with a workable solution." Gale looked up as the other seat was taken, flipping a small salute. "Nice of you to join us. Maybe now we can get this party started." The waitress set down three shots of tequila along with a salt shaker and bowl of lemons.
Peeta Mellark grinned and remarked, "Well, I couldn't exactly turn down the invitation after you insinuated that there might be a possible solution to my problem, now could I?" His glance swung curiously to Finnick and Gale airily made the introductions. "Finnick Odair, Better Way psychologist extraordinaire, say hello to Peeta Mellark, cook, artist, and generally good guy." The two shook hands and then Peeta asked carefully, "How exactly is a psychologist going to help me? I don't need a psych report on her. I just need to figure out how to get past the fortress she's locked herself in."
Finnick chuckled, "Now I see. Mellark. As in Primrose Mellark's brother, the purveyor of pastries for our fair Ms. Everdeen. Gale, you were absolutely right. This poor soul needs all the help he can get." He slapped Peeta's shoulder. "We have similar issues, my friend. Gale was correct that we can help each other. You have taken on a worthy task in winning the heart of that young lady. I must warn you that she is the worst kind of woman: smart, self-sufficient, and fairly deadly with that little arsenal she keeps locked up. You're either extremely brave or glaringly stupid. Only time will tell, I suppose, which one is the truth."
Peeta looked stunned for a moment, threw a disbelieving glance at Gale, and then laughed out loud. "With manners like that, it's no wonder you have women problems. What exactly is the purpose of this little strategy meeting? Is this the part where you tell me it's hopeless and that I need to just let her be? If that is the case, forget it. I'm not walking away that easily."
Finnick observed him quietly and then exchanged a look with Gale. "He will do quite nicely, won't he? I think our Ms. Everdeen might just have met her match." Finnick pulled the sugar bowl a little closer and snagged a few bundles. He chewed slowly, savoring the sweetness and then elaborated, "Peeta, you and I have the same problem. We are both interested in women who have convinced themselves that they can't trust their feelings anymore. One has become so rigid in procedure that she probably has a twelve step program to cook an egg in the morning. The other has closed herself off emotionally. She has brief moments where it seems like life has called her out, but those are few and fleeting. We need to assist them to break those destructive patterns and reap the rewards."
Peeta eyed Gale in amusement and then asked hesitantly, "I think I follow you. How exactly do you propose we get them to break their patterns?"
Finnick laughed, "There are three ways to break a cyclical behavior pattern. You stress the patient when they fall into the cycle. The stress disrupts their self-comfort regimen and they are forced to act in a way that they might not normally consider. This is the most aggressive of the three and I understand that it didn't work so well for Katniss during the morning after. She went out with you, enjoyed it, and then felt guilty. The guilt caused a sort of panic attack and she has convinced herself that avoidance is the only way to keep from having a reoccurrence. Am I right?" Peeta and Gale both nodded. "The second way is to entice the patient into breaking their pattern themselves. Give them a result that will gratify them more than the old habits do. After all, you will go with what makes you feel better. The trick is to get to the root cause of the behavior and tailor your counteract to balance that. The third is to combine the two. Both agitate and beguile. This one is actually the most effective. That is course of treatment that I would most recommend if they were my patients."
"Basically, you find out what they need and make it look like the thing they want the most. Is that a fair conclusion?" Peeta questioned hesitantly.
Finnick clasped Peeta's shoulder and winked at Gale, "By jove, I do believe he's got it, Mr. Hawthorne. Very good, Peeta. Now, the question is how can we convince these two lovely ladies that they just can't live without us?"
Pensive frowns were exchanged and then Gale's eyes lit up, "Gentlemen, I think I have it. The question is whether or not you are willing to go the distance?"
Finnick tossed back his shot and slammed the small glass on the table surface, exchanging the ever present sugar for a lemon. He shook his head and yelled, "You know I'm there."
Peeta's eyes rebounded between the two. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "Ah, hell. Count me in, too." He slugged down the harsh liquor, plucked a lemon from the bowl and after extracting the juice, tossed the rind aside. "What's the plan, Gale?"
Gale's eyes gleamed and he leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially. The other two occupants listened, eyes wide, as he elaborated on the hastily constructed plan. Drinks were consumed and details negotiated. Finally, the waitress forced all three into a taxi for the ride home. Tomorrow, Operation Lovestruck went into full effect. Those girls would never know what hit them.
End Part 8