"He hit on you?" Lee asked incredulously from her seat at the vanity, watching through the mirror as Mario paced behind her.

"It... it was so weird, Lee. He... he's been getting himself injured because- Jesus, Lee, he's a masochist."

"Oh." she said simply, pausing with the make-up removing cloth mid-cheek, "That... actually explains a lot."

Mario tried not to read too far into that sentence, opting for a more furious walking pace instead. "I don't understand him. I thought he was in love with you."

Lee's expression went blank as she set the cloth aside, "You think he's in love with you?"

"No!" he forced out, stopping his restless movements to run a hand through his hair, "God, no, I don't think that. I mean, he could be. What do I know? But he- he definitely didn't say that. I was just- I was only saying I thought he had eyes for you."

"Mario." Lee said, standing from her cushion to come to his side and cup his cheek with her hand, "You need to calm down a little. You look like you're about to hyperventalate."

"How would you feel if it was you?" he snapped bitterly, realizing too little too late how his words might have affected Lee.

She dropped her hand and hardened her stare, "If it was me, I definitely wouldn't be freaking out like this."

"Because you still love him." Mario huffed, though he knew he shouldn't have, "Of course you would be okay with it."

The hurt in her eyes was evident, screaming at him with her expression before she slapped him outright.

Mario was stunned, lifting a hand to his stinging cheek and staring at her in surprise. Lee was glaring at him now, and there was a darkness behind her tears he hadn't ever seen before. She raised her hand as if to hit him again, but shook her head and let it drop back to her side, "This isn't about me, Mario. This is about you."

She turned back to her vanity without another word, finishing with the removal of her makeup. When Mario grumbled and made his way for the bed, she stopped him with a mirthless, "You should probably sleep on the couch tonight."

So he bit his cheek, grabbed his pillow from the mattress and forced himself out into the living room wordlessly.


Mario was exhausted the next day, rolling into work with a sore back and lacking at least four crucial hours of sleep. He went about his rounds for a little while before decidedly disappearing into his office for a much needed break. The hospital's coffee vendor lacked the skill required to make a decent cup, and without the much needed caffeine, Mario was feeling his eyelids droop.

He crossed his arms over his desk and let his head fall between them, huffing and frustrated and completely worn out.

He needed to find a way to save his marriage. He was trying to save his marriage and he wasn't even married yet.

The prospect of marrying Lee Thompkins seemed to have that effect on people.


The beeper attached to Mario's hip was an urgent alarm that startled him out of a sleep he hadn't realized he'd fallen into. He fumbled with the little device with a foggy head, looking at the room number and standing on impulse, already on his way out the door, despite how exhausted he was.

Jim Gordon was waiting for him when he entered the examination room.

"Hi there, Doc." he said, and had the nerve to even look slightly sheepish.

Mario decided not to answer, plucking the clipboard from the tub on the wall and glaring at the sheet of paper it held. "You broke your toe?" he asked, lifting one brow at Jim as he finally raised his head.

"Stubbed it on a table too hard." he offered with a shrug.

Mario was unamused.

He glared at Jim, but didn't say anything else before attending to the cupboards to find a toe cast. Maybe he'd put it on a little rougher than he needed to just to hammer the idea home. He couldn't keep doing this. It was nothing but unhealthy and ineffective, and whatever Jim was dealing with wasn't going to be solved this way.

"Did you ever think about Caro?" Jim smiled weakly as Mario crouched down to get a look at his toe.

Nothing too bad, it would heal quickly, thank God, "No."

"Are you ever going to?" Jim asked casually, then grinned, "Or do you already have a set destination?"

Mario grumbled, unwilling to talk about this just now, "Jim..." he said, hesitantly, "I can't be the one to treat you if you come back here again."

Jim's smile melted away faster than a popsicle in the summer heat, and Mario decided that was the moment to clip in the cast. Jim winced, but sadly didn't let it distract him. "Why not?"

"You can't keep doing this, and I'm not going to be an advocate for it."

He growled, "You don't have to be an advocate, you just have to fucking treat me if I have a wound. You're a doctor. It's your job."

"I won't do it, Jim." Mario snapped back, final in his decision, "You're hurting yourself intentionally and I'm not going to give you any excuse to keep at it."

"I'll just see another doctor."

"You don't want to see another doctor." he retorted.

Jim shot Mario a bitter look, "You're using my feelings against me." he frowned, looking slightly angry, "Isn't that kind of low?"

"You're trying to use my Hippocratic Oath against me. I'm trying to potentially save your life. You tell me which is worse?"

He sighed then, letting his shoulders roll back before he gave in and shrugged, "Fair enough."

"Find..." Mario hesitated, lifting a hand to gesture helplessly, "a professional or something."

Jim snorted, "I already told you I'm not interested in some stranger-"

"Then ask someone you know!" Mario bit back, "Jim, this is going to get you killed unless you do something about it."

"Would that be so bad? For you, I mean?"

Mario blinked, looking up at Jim with a mix between a startled glare and some measure of dumbfoundedness, "Are you kidding?"

Jim's expression didn't change. He kept a fond eye on Mario, smiling pitifully as he said, "Maybe."

Mario didn't realize he was holding tightly onto Jim's ankle until Jim gave him a cautionary glance. When Mario looked down to where he was holding, he realized he'd been gently caressing him with his fucking thumb completely unawares. Mario coughed, removed himself from Jim's person and took a small step back. "I'm serious Jim. You can't come back here again."

"I'll let someone else treat me." he said bitterly, and Mario tried not to let his growing anger show.

"No. Ask someone to help you-"

"I don't have anyone. Not that I could trust with something like this." Jim growled, teeth tight as he glared at Mario.

Then he paused, gave Mario an absolute shit-eating grin and leaned back against the examination table, "Unless you would do it?"

Mario choked, "Me ?"

"Yeah, you."

"I... I don't know anything about this stuff, Jim." he said lamely, and forced himself to take another step back, retreating towards the counter.

"You just have to know how to hurt me without causing any real damage." Jim shrugged, "But you're a doctor. That part'll be easy."

"So what's the hard part?"

Jim slipped off from the table and rolled his shoulders, "Maybe Lee? But she's an understanding woman. I'm sure she wouldn't mind. Most likely the biggest obstacle here is your own fear of it."

"I'm not afraid." Mario snapped, but Jim only grinned.

"Good. How about tomorrow then? You're usually done at 6. Meet me at mine. I know you know where I live."

Mario couldn't even deny it. He'd checked up on him around the time Lee had startled keeping secrets from him-after she'd slipped off to his apartment in the middle of the night for God knows what. At least Mario knew it wasn't sex. Gordon wasn't interested in her that way anymore; no, he'd traded that fancy for Mario.

Fuck his life.

And now Mario was expected to- to...

"Breathe." Jim offered, slinking forward and into Mario's personal space before lightly touching his hand. "You're fine."

"I don't understand you, Jim."

"That's okay. I just need you to understand this-that I need this. That's all I want."

Mario nodded solemnly, "I do... sort of."

"And that's fine." he let his fingers trail up from Mario's knuckles to his wrist, torturously slow in their ascent, "I'll tell you what I need."

He kissed Mario then. Nothing deep or dirty, just a wary little peck over his lips before he pulled back with a grin. Mario looked at him with wide eyes, unsure why he hadn't shoved Jim away the moment he'd stepped too close. He was engaged to Jim's ex for crying out loud, and Mario was letting this twisted detective run his fingertips over Mario's wrist and give him fleeting kisses.

Jim let his hand drop away from Mario, and Mario instantly felt the cool absence of his touch. He smiled, nodded once, then headed for the door, "See ya tomorrow, doc."

And Mario was left once more, completely stumped as to what to say while Jim retreated.


"So, you're going to hurt him... so... that he stops hurting himself?" Lee asked incredulously, sitting on the opposite couch with her arms crossed over her chest, "I don't understand."

"Like... small stuff. I'm planning to look it up online and learn a little more, but a couple bruises would be better than broken toes and stab wounds."

She frowned, "I don't think either is very healthy."

"Probably not. I think the fact that it's me is probably even less healthy... but he said there wasn't anyone else he could ask."

Lee leaned back against the cushion, frown deepening, "He could have asked me."

Mario frowned, "I don't think you have the same kind of relationship you once did. I don't think he could really... trust you the same way." he offered.

"And he trusts you ?"

It stung, just a little, but Mario brushed off her snideness in favor of a calm conversation. There wouldn't be any chance of her agreeing if this turned into a fight, "I guess so..."

"Why?" She asked, almost scowling.

Mario lifted his chin, "Why not? I've never lied to him."

Lee glared, "I never lied to him either."

"But you lie to me all the time."

They were at odds again, and Mario knew that they'd end up in another fight soon. Jim Gordon was the worst thing that could happen to their relationship, forcing them to deal with this awkward triangle. Lee loved Jim, Mario already knew, and Jim apparently had a thing for Mario. Mario-well, Mario wasn't sure what he was feeling. He had loved Lee for some time, but the strain of knowing she loved another man was tough, it was killing him actually. Everytime he caught her in another lie he found himself asking why he even bothered. His father liked her, she'd make a good mother, but the passion he'd felt and the trust she had once held died some time ago.

He didn't want to lose her necessarily, but things certainly needed to change. They couldn't go on like this anymore.

"This is good for you too." Mario finally settled on, crossing one leg over the other as he mirrored her loose but agitated posture, "He stops hurting himself and you can move in to really pick up the pieces."

"Mario, I'm not interested in rekindling a romance with Jim."

He tsked, "Because you know he's over you. If there was even a chance he was still fawning over you like before you'd still be chasing him and you know it."

"Stop it!" she snapped, standing from her seat with a glare, "Why do you have to talk to me like that?"

"Because I'm angry!" Mario yelled back, jumping up from the couch, "My fiance is in love with another man and doesn't have the gall to admit it to my face! I don't even know why you're willing to marry me anymore. He's no longer a prisoner, there were a hundred chances for you two to get back together and now that he's moved on you're jealous of me !"

Lee stopped, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted as she listened to Mario rant.

"It's not my fault he's developed some sort of weird attraction to me! I didn't ask for it!"

"Mario, calm down..." she tried, and lifted a hand to placate him.

He shoved it away, "I'm so sick of this, Lee."

"We can talk this out-"

"But why?" he asked, letting his shoulders droop with defeat, "Why are we trying to work this out when it's clear that we don't feel the same way about each other anymore?"

"You still love me, don't you?"

Mario frowned.

There were still many things he'd like to say, some things he'd like to do to maybe just try to fix this startling crack he'd just put in their relationship, but he wasn't so sure anymore. He shook his head, raising a palm to his face to try and wipe away all the worry, "I'm going to stay in a hotel tonight." he said simply, and left without another word.


He left the hotel lacking sleep yet again, and went to work feeling like a zombie, crawled out of the grave.

Work went by slowly, and Mario took the short fleeting moments between his patients to nap, even just to lay his head down for a second. He could only bring himself to eat half of his lunch, tossing the other half a sandwich into the trash without care. He wasn't hungry. He was upset and sleep deprived.

When work was over, Mario mozied his way over to Jim's apartment.

He knocked hesitantly, and when Jim opened the door with a charming smile and a simple T-shirt, Mario felt like he'd lost a battle he didn't know he was fighting. Why would Lee ever get over a man like Jim Gordon? Everything about him pulled you in and beckoned you into his little world of danger and excitement. He knew that was her thing, he was sure the only reason she'd ever thought Mario was even close to suitable was his being the son of a mobster.

Jim opened his mouth to say something but Mario held up a hand, "I can't actually help you today Jim. I came to say that. I'm exhausted and I couldn't-"

"I could tell." Jim grinned, and stepped aside to let him in anyway, "I was just going to invite you in for some coffee."

Mario laughed in spite of himself, nodding weakly and allowing Jim to usher him inside.

The place looked like a bachelor pad, hardly livable really, and Mario could see the dust marks on the coffee table where Jim had obviously tried to pick up a little, probably in preparation for Mario's arrival. He sighed, sorry to have disappointed Jim but grateful that he wouldn't have to worry about any of that mess tonight.

"Take a seat." Jim ordered, disappearing over to the kitchen to fix him a cup.

"Thanks."

There was some minor bustling around the kitchen space as Jim worked, "What happened?"

Mario groaned, "I don't... well I do want to talk about it but you're not the person to talk to."

Jim hummed from beside the counter, pouring coffee into a mug, "So it's Lee. What did you do? You take cream or sugar?"

"Just cream." Mario said, "And why do you assume it was me?"

Jim smiled at him and popped open the fridge to dig out the creamer, "Because it's Lee." he offered, and Mario sighed again.

In another life, he and Jim probably could have been friends. They would have made great friends, really. If it wasn't for the awkward tension between them regarding Lee, they might have become the best of companions. Jim was surprisingly easy to talk to when you weren't trying to goad him into expressing his own feelings, and Mario had never really had many friends that really understood his situation with his fiance. Lee had dated Jim too, after all. Jim knew better than anyone what she was like.

"Here ya go." Jim smiled as he passed off the mug, "It's not very hot though."

"Thanks." Mario murmured, taking the first sip and finding himself surprisingly content with it's temperature. "Thank you."

Jim snorted, "It's just shitty coffee."

"I needed it though."

Jim dropped down onto the sofa chair adjacent to the couch and nodded, "So talk."

"I shouldn't, Jim..."

"Come on, who's it gonna hurt? You've obviously got no one else to talk to about it."

Mario huffed, glaring at Jim over the rim of his coffee cup, "What makes you say that?"

"You wouldn't have come here. You could have called to tell me you couldn't make it, but you came here in person. I think you secretly want to tell me everything."

Mario frowned, "I wasn't really thinking..."

"Just relax, drink your coffee and talk it out. When you're done you can crash here too, if you want. You look like you need the rest."

"I've got a hotel room-"

Jim's eyebrow rose, "So you've been kicked from the house?"

Mario groaned, let his mug rest against his thigh and conceded, "God, you're so irritating. You don't have to use your detective skills on me, I'll talk."

Jim smiled impishly, and Mario stuck his tongue out at him, too tired to care about how childish the action was.

"We're fighting."

"I assumed that much."

"We're fighting about you."

Jim huffed, "What did I do?"

"You kissed me. Twice." Mario grunted, and took another gulp of his drink.

The detective grinned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his legs, "Did you tell her that?"

"Of course. I don't lie to her."

Jim paused mid sip from his own cup and blinked at him, drawing his mouth back slowly before cautiously speaking again, "I take it she lies to you?"

"Often."

"And that bugs you."

Mario bristled, "Of course it bugs me! You can't forge a good relationship on lies ! She didn't lie to you."

"So that's what bothers you?" Jim's lips pressed thin before he chortled, "She's lied to me before. She once told me I looked good in this god awful pink shirt that she kept insisting was salmon."

Mario chuckled, "She's really more colorblind than she realizes. I doubt that you looked that bad though."

Jim grinned, held up a finger to silently tell him to wait a moment and disappeared into a door that Mario assumed led to his bedroom. He reappeared a moment later, sporting what was truly a ghastly shade of pink. It drained the pleasant color of Jim's skin and the buttons looked to go all the way up under his chin. Jim held his arms out wide as if to say, 'look at this monstrosity', and going to far as to spin around a time or two.

Mario laughed. He couldn't help it. It really was awful, "Oh my gosh, take that thing off!"

"See?" Jim huffed, already starting on the buttons, "I told you it was awful."

"She let you wear that out? It's horrible."

"She actually insisted once."

"I would never..." he smirked, the howls of his laughter finally fading down to a low chuckle.

Jim beamed, but as he worked the final buttons loose, started to frown, "But seriously, am I causing you too much trouble? You look like you haven't slept much recently."

Mario tried his best not to look as Jim slipped the shirt off his shoulders, realizing he should be more courteous, but damn it he was too tired to bother with what he should be doing. "It's not you, necessarily." he sighed, "We would be having these problems sooner or later."

He waited until Jim took up his seat again, not bothering to go put on something new and holding his discarded shirt in his lap.

Mario tried not to stare.

"What is the problem, then?"

Mario huffed and let his head fall back against the couch, "Honestly? She just... doesn't love me. I don't understand why she's still hanging around at all."

"And you?"

Mario blinked, "Me?"

"Do you still love her ?"

He frowned, faced once again with the question he didn't want to answer, "I don't know anymore, Jim."

Jim was politely stoic as he nodded, shifting in his seat just a little with (what Mario could tell were) nerves. Before he could even ask, Mario shut him down, "That doesn't mean I'm interested in you either, Jim."

Mario always thought of Jim as a confident guy. He assumed he'd take the comment like it was and bear with it, but Jim's responding grin was so overflown with self depreciation that Mario wanted to take it back, "Of course not." Jim said, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

"I mean..." he fumbled, "I don't know you. Well I know you, Lee talks about you a lot but I don't know you. I just know what she's said."

His smile became genuine as Mario stumbled through his attempt to fix what he'd said, "So, you're saying you're not interested in me only because you don't know me well enough?"

"That's not what I'm saying."

"That's exactly what you're saying." Jim grinned.

Mario growled, "Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"That turn about thing you do with my words. I don't like it. This isn't an interrogation and you're not trying to get something out of me. It's very frustrating."

Jim chuckled, "I think it's just the right amount of frustrating for you."

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

"Shut up and give me another cup of coffee." he said bitterly, and lifted his mug to try and cover his view of Jim's shirtless chest as he stood, all in vain.