A/N: This fic was written for a prompt on another site. I hope you enjoy it!

A pyramid of empty glasses were stacked on the sticky table in front of Mark Sloan, each one, a reminder of how alone he was. He lifted his head, a blurry figure moved toward him. Blinking his eyes, he tried to focus. "Doctor Sloan, you okay?" He didn't need to see who it was to know who the kind voice belonged to. "You want me to call you a cab?"

"I don't need a cab Joe." He slurred, raising his drink to his lips and tipping it back until it was empty. "Just another scotch." He turned the glass over and placed it at the top of the pile. It teetered at the top before tumbling down, bringing the rest crashing down with it.

The legs of the chair scraped across the floor as Joe pulled it back and sat down. "Wanna talk about it?" It was all part of the job. As a bartender, Joe spent a better part of his nights listening to people's problems and he had seen things. Crazy things. It all came with the territory and he loved every minute of it. He slumped back in the chair, crossed his arms and waited for the story to begin.

"How do you know I have something to talk about?" Mark halfheartedly asked, at first trying to avoid the question and then accidentally letting something out. "Just because I'm a broken manwhore, doesn't mean I need to talk about it."

Joe squinted, confused about what he thought he had heard. "A broken…"

"Manwhore! I'm broken. She broke me and then just left." He explained, not realizing his voice was loud enough to echo through the bar. He was truly a broken man. "Took off to California, where it doesn't rain."

"Doctor Montgomery?" Mark nodded, who else would he be talking about. "I'm pretty sure it rains in California." Joe pointed out, trying to lighten the mood

"Can I ask you something, personal?"

Against his better judgment, Joe agreed. "Okay." He braced himself for the question, he knew he might regret this.

Mulling over the words to his question, Mark paused. "Before you were gay, did you sleep with a lot of women?"

Incredibly, Joe bit back a laugh. "Do you think you're gay?" It was possibly the most absurd thing he had ever heard. Mark Sloan, user of women, gay.

"No, I don't think I'm gay!" He snapped, stiffening in his seat. Glancing quickly around the bar, he lowered his voice. It was bad enough they gossiped about him being a male whore, he did not need them gossiping about what a failure he was at it too. "I'm asking if you've ever had sex with a woman and I'm talking about really bad sex. Sex that made you want to screw men instead?"

"I'm not sure I understand the question?"

"Callie." Mark states. "Do you think it's my fault? She said she did…but she could have faked it. Women do that, don't they? Well not to me, but… "

Suddenly, Joe understood. "Oh…you're asking me if I think Callie." He paused, what was the best way to say it? "You think Callie faked an orgasm and it turned her into a lesbian?" Suppressing the laughter was a challenge. The idea was ridiculously funny.

Mark's hand scrubbed down over his well-groomed goatee. "Do you know the nurse's formed a club?" A fucking club, dedicated to trashing his name. "Nurse's united against Mark Sloan, they compared techniques."

Joe had heard about that. "I'm sorry but women don't like it when you lie to them." The nurse's complained on several occasions about the man in front of him.

They knew what they were getting when the spread their legs for him, it was a well-known fact he was only after sex. "I don't lie to them, they lie to me." Feigning innocence when all the while they were after the same thing he was. It was sickening. "Meredith Grey won't sleep with me. Addison broke her too. What kind of dirty mistress won't engage in a little revenge sex?"

"How did Addison break Meredith?" The man was so drunk he was starting to ramble about things that did not even make sense. "Why don't I call you a cab, I think it's time to sleep it off."

"I can't even get the hot blonde to flirt with me; she wants me to respect her." He might respect her more if she would fuck him. She fucked O'Malley for god's sake. "What does George O'Malley have that I don't?" Even Lexie Grey was doe eyed over the scrawny resident.

"George?" Joe asked, confused. George and Izzie had broken up. Obviously, Mark Sloan did not pay attention to those things. "George and Izzie broke up, she's back with Alex."

"Alex Karev?" Just fucking great, that was worse than O'Malley. "She's screwing Karev now?"

Since the day they shared their first kiss in his bar, Joe was sure they were meant to be together. Secretly he was rooting for them to find their way back to each other. "It's more than that." He defended. "They are pretty serious." Serious enough that Alex told her he was in love with her and after a tearful moment, Izzie returned the sentiment. For Alex, it was something he had never told anyone and for Izzie it was something she admittedly said too easily, but rarely felt. This time it was different. "Maybe it's not so bad."

"What?" Mark dug out his wallet to pay his tab when a loud curse coming from across the bar caught his attention. It was Lexie Grey, spilling the contents of her bag onto the floor. She wiped furiously at her eyes, trying to stop the tears. He watched her carefully as she knelt down to scoop her things back into the broken handled bag.

"Being a broken manwhore, maybe it's not the worst thing in the world." Joe offered him a smile. "Maybe it's exactly what you need."

Mark barely noticed as Joe left the table. He pushed back his chair and wobbled a bit as he stood. It was time to start over, time for him to turn over a new leaf. Time for him to actually do it. "Need help with that?" He asked, peering down at her.

"No, I got it thanks." Her small shaky voice betrayed her. "I'm fine, really."

"You're not fine. I'm offering to listen…to whatever you want to tell me." He suspected it had something to do with O'Malley. "Nothing more…just offering my friendship."

"That's all?" She asked, not sure whether or not she should believe him.

He should have been offended by her skepticism, but really, he didn't blame her for it. His reputation spoke for itself. He nodded. "I'm broken and I'm turning over a new leaf." He reached out his hand, offering to help her up off the floor. Her hand slipped into his and he thought maybe Joe was right; being a broken manwhore wasn't so bad.