First fan fic! Tell me what you think. Am I portraying Haymitch correctly? He's my absolute favorite and I'm so afraid I'll ruin the essence of his character.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BELOW MENTIONED CONTENT. ALL PROPS TO SUZANNE COLLINS!

Katniss

"Haymitch?" I whisper, gently shaking his leg. Of course he's passed out, drunk, as always. Still, it's a little early to be passed out already. Barely 9 o'clock. I don't even know why I'm here really, why I even bothered to seek out his company. All I do know is now that I'm here I don't want to leave. I don't want to be alone again.

"Haymitch!" I say again, louder this time, giving his leg a violent shake.

"Hnnnugg!" he mumbles still half asleep. As he tries, unsuccessfully, to rise, his legs tangling with mine.

I fall helplessly into his lap, landing in a very uncomfortable position, hand resting on his crotch, chest pressed against his jaw, now painfully aware of the fact that he's wearing nothing but a pair of very tattered boxers. Shocked and horrified, I snatch my hand away and look down at him, an apology already springing to my lips. My apology stops dead on my tongue as I see the look on his face before he hides it behind his ever cynical, sarcastic smirk; shock, yes, but something else I can't quite place.

"Did you come all the way over here just too sexually harass me, sweetheart? Or is there something else I can help you with?" he says. "You know, just because I'm a drunk doesn't mean I'm easy."

"You wish!" I retort, anger flaring. I shove off of him a little harder than necessary and he winces. Good. Serves him right!

"You know I do, sweetheart." He winks at me, but I see that flash in his eye again; the same one as before. What is that? I can't tell because his I-am-superior-to-all smirk is on his face again and it gets me so mad that I storm out, forgetting all about the reason I went searching for him in the first place.

Haymitch

"Haymitch!" I hear Katniss call. Dammit! Can't a man pass out drunk in any peace around here?

"What!" I say, or try to say, as I attempt to get up. No such luck, my legs tangle with hers and she's falling on top of me. Ugh, I can't handle this right- Whoa there! She lands on me with her hand on my crotch and her breasts pressed against my face, grazing my mouth. Oh God. My breath hitches and I struggle to keep my reaction under control before she turns to me, face full of shock and horror.

"Did you come all the way over here just too sexually harass me, sweetheart? Or is there something else I can help you with?" I drawl in my most sarcastic tone, trying to keep the strain from my voice. "You know, just because I'm a drunk doesn't mean I'm easy."

"You wish!" she snaps back, anger flaring in those grey eyes as she shoves off of me. Hard. Good. It's easier to cool the burning feeling in me when she's so angry. Christ! The burning feeling? What the hell is wrong with me? Must be the booze. Yeah, the booze.

"You know I do, sweetheart." I reply coolly with a rather seductive wink, hoping it would piss her off, but not entirely not meaning it. I take it I succeed in pissing her off when she stalks out of my house.