"Where's Roger?"

Mark looked up sharply as Mimi walked into the loft with a slam of the door. Roger had stayed at her place last night, so the fact that she came here looking for him meant that they had had a fight. Again. Mark shrugged. "I haven't seen him since last night."

"He didn't come up here?" She swore, but Mark didn't so much as bat an eye. "Do you have any idea where he might be?"

Mark spoke before he thought, more bitterly than he'd intended. "Just a wild guess, but he's probably avoiding you."

"What?"

Mark knew he had stepped over a line somewhere. Mimi had already been mad at Roger when she came in. Provoking her was not the wisest course of action, but... "You don't get it, do you?" he growled. "Before you came... maybe Roger wasn't happy, but he was getting there. Do you know how hard it was for him to stay clean those six months before you showed up? And now, with all the shit you do around him, you're not making it any easier." His voice rose in intensity as he spoke, and he got off the couch to stand and face her. When, for a moment, Mimi said nothing, Mark sighed and muttered under his breath, "You're breaking him... and he was mine first anyway."

Dead silence then. Oh crap, had she heard that? After a few seconds, Mimi asked softly, with a slightly dangerous edge to her voice, "Excuse me?"

Mark shook his head, looked at the floor. "Nothing. I– forget I said anything." Suddenly deflated from whatever righteous anger had filled him, he flopped back down on the couch. "You'd better go find Roger."