Work Text:
Going to work when Langdon isn’t there is hard.
It feels ridiculous to admit it - they’d only worked together for one shift, and even then they’d been with each other in increments. But it’s true. It’s not that she hates the rest of her coworkers - they’re all very competent, and most of them are kind, and the ones who aren’t (Santos) have still grown on her anyway. But Langdon just got her. Understood her intrinsically, trusted her without question, and truly seemed to enjoy her company. She knows, objectively, that people do like her - she’s good at her job, and she’s easy enough to get on with, even if her personality is sometimes a little confronting to others at first. But it never was to him, and when you meet someone like that, who just seems to know you, it’s hard to accept that they’re not with you when you thought they would be.
But he isn’t there. She still sees him, thankfully, just not in the way she was expecting. It’s a surprise to both of them when she first visits him in rehab - Dana had mentioned at the beginning of a shift that she’d been to see him, that he was doing as well as he could be, that he’d asked about Mel. That had thrown her a little, and she was just opening her mouth to ask for more detail when the EMTs had come bursting through the door, bringing with them a little boy who had aspirated a marble, and so she had to do her job instead. It had stuck in her mind for the rest of the day, however, as she sutured wounds and treated accident victims and dealt with two very drunk teenagers who passed their time in the ED alternatively playing Smash or Pass about every member of staff who happened to walk past them or projectile vomiting. (One of them had very earnestly informed her that she was an “absolute smash” after she’d had to step in for Whittaker, who had unfortunately been thrown up on for maybe the third time that week.)
She didn’t understand why Dr Langdon had asked after her in the first place - was Dana talking about work and happened to mention her? Did he ask organically? Did he ask about anyone else? It got to the point where the shift ended and she’d approached Dana nervously, like she was doing something wrong, and asked where his treatment centre was, and if there were any regulations on who could see him. And then suddenly, on her day off, she was on a bus to Crossroads Treatment Center, and it wasn’t until she was standing outside the building that she thought that maybe this was a stupid idea - he hadn’t asked to see her, he’d just asked about her. But she was there now, and she’d already wasted precious time she could have been spending with Becca getting there, and so she took a deep breath and went in anyway.
There were three things she noticed when she finally saw him. First, that he was definitely skinnier. Second, that he was definitely surprised to see her. Third, that he was definitely happy to see her. She didn’t hug him - even though the woman at the desk had informed her that hugs were allowed, though any other kind of physical intimacy was not. Instead, she’d raised her hand in a sort of wave, and he’d mirrored it, and they’d laughed, and it was so easy. It was so easy to be with him.
(“Is it alright that I’m here?” She’d asked, after they’d said hello and sat down.
“Ideally, I’d prefer it if neither of us were here.” He’d replied, with a wry smile, as if it were a joke, though she knew it wasn’t. “But I’m glad you are.”)
And so they developed a routine of sorts. She would come and see him, as many times as she could. She did a lot of the talking - telling him about what was happening in the hospital, both in terms of medical emergencies and gossip. He was more hesitant to talk about his day to day, except for the one time he’d told her in extensive detail about the minor rivalry he had with another patient. He talked about his children a lot, or Dana or Cassie, the only other two staff members who visited him. He talked a little bit about the dog, which his wife had begrudgingly taken in. He actually never talked about his wife. She never asked. Halfway through her second visit she finally stopped feeling weird about referring to him as Frank, the way he’d asked her to. After the fifth visit, she’d asked if she could hug him, and he’d said yes in a way that made her think it had been far too long since someone had asked him that, and so that had become a part of their routine too.
It helps to witness his recovery in real time, but it’s still frustrating that he isn’t with her at work, that he can only give her advice on cases after the fact, based on her retelling of events, rather than being beside her while they’re happening. And then it’s the Fourth of July, and he’s back, as if he never left, trying very hard to appear unaffected by the way some of the staff openly stare at him and discuss his presence, or by the fact that he'll have to go through at least one random drug test and locker search today, and every day, for a long time. She can read him now, sort of - understanding the nuances of facial expressions has never particularly been her strong suit, and yet somehow she knows what many of his mean, knows him. Collins hugs him, and Dr Robby tries to avoid him, and Santos looks at him in a way that is simultaneously suspicious and guilty.
And Mel - Mel just works with him. They deal with a wave of burn victims, as it’s definitely too much to hope for that people will finally learn how to follow basic safety procedure when it comes to fireworks, and people suffering from dehydration, and at one point Mel has to cut into a fursuit while the patient quite literally howls like a wolf, as if she’s cutting him instead. None of the staff were aware that the largest furry convention in the United States were taking place today, excluding Ahmad, bizarrely, and so the people in various animal suits turning up in the pit had been quite a surprise to them all. Dr Robby gives them all a talking to about being respectful, that it isn’t their job to judge, but even he was noticeably thrown by the woman in the fox suit who came in refusing to communicate in any way outside of little yips.
Frank operates as if he’d never stopped working, and she finds herself pairing up with him again and again and again - not by sheer coincidence. There’s no subtlety in the way they seek each other out, and it raises a few eyebrows, but they work so well together that nobody says a thing. At one point, while they stand on opposite sides of Jackson Malloy, a 32 year old man who’d hydrated himself that day exclusively with beer and thought it would be a good idea to try a running leap over his fire pit, they make eye contact, and there’s genuine joy in Frank’s eyes, a spark which had never quite been lit the whole time he was in rehab. Anyone who didn’t work in emergency medicine would be justifiably concerned at this, at the fact that he seemed to enjoy the fact that he was being faced with a man who had literally burned his ass, but she gets it. He’s back where he belongs, finally.
They finish their shift only an hour later than they should have, by some miracle. Dr Robby calls them all in to congratulate them on doing such a good job on such a big day - though when you have first days like the one Mel did, nothing seems that big by comparison. And then everyone slowly starts filing out - Santos wraps her arm over Whittaker’s shoulder in a way that looks slightly forceful but she knows he doesn’t mind, and Mohan gives her a wave goodbye, and Mel turns and Frank is right beside her, where she’s missed him being all this time. He smiles at her, crooked, and offers a fist for her to bump, and she does, and only when she raises her arm does she realise how exhausted she really is.
He squints at her a little, and it’s only now that she realises as well as she’s able to read him, he is also able to read her. “You need a ride home?”
“Oh, no.” She shakes her head to reinforce the point. “The bus stop I get off at is only ten minutes from my house. It’s pretty convenient.”
“That didn’t really answer my question.” Frank replies, tilting his head. “Come on, nobody enjoys getting on a bus in Pittsburgh. Especially people who’ve already spent their day dealing with the dumbest people this city has to offer.” (This is an exaggeration, of course, and she knows he knows that, though there’s only so many people you can treat because they thought it would be a good idea to hold the firework that very explicitly said should not be held before you might start to believe that.)
“Really.” She insists, not even really knowing why. She just doesn’t like to feel - needy. As if she can’t take care of herself. “It’s not that bad. Except for the woman the other week who sat next to me and asked if I wanted to know exactly how and when I would die. That was pretty bad, actually.”
His eyes widen almost comically, and it makes her want to laugh. “I mean - did you?” She raises her eyebrows at that, but he continues on. “Well, that settles it. Come on, the scariest thing about my car is the mystery rubbish that’s almost certainly under at least one of my seats. You can’t tell me you’d rather deal with scary bus witches than that.”
“She wasn’t a witch.” Mel informs him. “And she wasn’t particularly scary. Just disconcerting.”
“Well, she seems scary to me.” Frank replies. “Fortunately, I won’t ever have to see her, because I have a car. It has air conditioning and everything.”
She knows this is a losing battle - and there really is nothing appealing about the idea of getting on the bus right now. “Okay, but only if it’s on your way. I don’t want to hold you up.”
“The only thing you’d be holding me up from is going back to an empty apartment and frozen pizza, so you really shouldn’t be that worried.” He says, and then pauses, as if he’s just realised what he’s said. “I mean - well. Yeah.”
Mel isn’t quite sure what the protocol here is. She had figured, from his lack of discussion about Abby, that his marriage wasn’t exactly thriving. She wasn’t aware that they had - separated, she supposes, if they aren’t living together. She had also figured that he’d talk about it when he wanted to, and from the look on his face it doesn’t seem like he does want to, even if he had indirectly brought it up. So: “Fine.” He looks relieved, and she can’t tell if it’s because she said yes to his offer or because she didn’t push about his living situation. Maybe it’s both.
Despite the fact that she thought this was a one time deal (her place really isn’t on his way), somehow it isn’t. He starts to pick her up, and drop her home, or even pick up Becca on the days she’s not staying overnight at her care centre. It’s not every day - sometimes she does really need to be on her own, either to prepare for a shift or decompress from one, and as much as she likes Frank the only thing that appeals to her is her large, noise-cancelling headphones and no company. But it’s more often than not.
The first time they’d walked in together Princess and Perlah turned to each other so simultaneously it reminded Mel of watching synchronized swimming, and there’d been plenty of raised eyebrows and hushed voices following the both of them that day. That had died down, eventually - though Santos does still occasionally ask that she’s “definitely not fucking him, right? Because he isn’t the best choice for you out of the doctors in this department alone, let alone in this whole fucking city.” Mel has had to affirm that no, she is not fucking him, though she doesn’t quite say it like that, and though she’s used to Trinity’s particular form of bluntness and her personal, disfavourable thoughts about Frank, it still leaves a funny feeling in her stomach.
Because it’s not that she’s never thought about it. She tries not to think about it, most of the time, but she doesn’t always succeed. It’s just - they spend so much time together. And she really does like him, just as a person. And he is very handsome. It would be hard for someone in her position to not think about it, she imagines. But she still tries not to think about it anyway.
If Frank is aware of the way people talk about them as a result of their new carpooling routine, he doesn’t make it obvious. Instead, he just keeps on picking her up and dropping her off, and slowly learns her coffee order, and her favourite takeaways, and the lyrics to every song off Tina Snow - even though he had been very taken aback when he first heard Big Ole Freak. Mel hadn’t even queued it intentionally, it had just started playing as part of her recommended mix, and the look on his face when he realised what exactly Megan Thee Stallion was saying was so hysterical Mel couldn’t even find it in herself to be embarrassed. She learns the same things about him, as well - learns that he likes coffee with a frankly terrifying amount of sugar in it but no milk, learns that he has the ability to eat almost anything that’s put in front of him. She learns that he deems her music taste significantly cooler than his, and so she is always the designated dj during their car journeys.
She also learns that he’s getting a divorce, one Thursday, after a particularly bad night shift. They’d lost a kid - not even seven years old, with injuries from a car accident so severe that they all knew he wouldn’t make it even as he came in. They still tried. He still didn’t make it, and the scream his mother had let out from her own trauma room was so loud Mel’s ears feel like they’re still ringing from it. They don’t speak for a majority of the ride home, and then a car cuts in front of them dangerously and Frank honks his horn repeatedly and swears violently and then pulls over at the first available park and turns the car off. Mel reaches for her seatbelt as if to take it off - does he want her to get out? He seems to realise what she's doing and quickly puts a hand on her arm, not harshly, just to stop her. He isn’t looking at her, and she puts her hand over his and squeezes, and then he says: “I can’t go home.”
“Why not?” She asks, though she thinks she knows why. She just wants him to talk to her, and he does.
“I can’t - I can’t go back to that stupid fucking empty apartment. Normally, after a day like this, I could just go home and - and see my kids and my wife and know that they were still here. That I still had them. And now I don’t.” He scrubs the hand not touching her over his face and gives a humorless laugh. “I mean, they are still here. But - it’s not the same. Today, if I wanted to see them, the only way I could would be through fucking Facetime. It’s not - it’s not even close. And if Abby fights for sole custody, which would be pretty fucking easy for her to do, that might just be the rest of my fucking life.”
“Do you think she will?” She’s not asking this to hurt him. She’s never met Abby, but through the very limited things she’s heard about her she doesn’t seem spiteful. Mel doesn’t think Frank would have married someone who would deliberately keep children from their father, even if their father is the man she’s divorcing.
“No.” He shakes his head. “No, she won’t. I know she won’t. Her only focus has been making sure that Tanner and Millie make it through this as unscathed as possible - she wouldn’t separate us like that. She doesn’t hate me. She just doesn’t love me anymore. I don’t know if we’ve loved each other in a long time.” Frank looks at her then, finally, and he just looks - tired. He looks so tired. “Sorry, this isn’t - this is a lot to put on you, I shouldn’t-”
“You’re not putting it on me.” Mel insists. “Or, well, you are - but I’m happy to take it. We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends do that for each other.”
Frank looks at her for a moment, and though she’s been priding herself on being able to read him so well, his expression is indiscernible. “Yeah Mel, we’re friends.” He smiles softly, a little embarrassedly. “I think you’re my best friend, actually.”
“That’s good.” She says. “I think you’re my best friend too. It’d be pretty humiliating if only one of us felt that way.” He laughs, surprised, and then she laughs, and eventually he puts his hand back on the steering wheel and starts the car and drives to hers. When they arrive, she goes to get out and then - she doesn’t. Frank looks at her, a little startled. “You should - you can stay here, if you want. I mean - Becca isn’t here, and I also - I don’t really love being alone after shifts like these, either.”
The look on his face would make her laugh if she wasn’t so nervous. He’s just - stunned. She’s totally caught him off guard, for once, and neither of them particularly know how to deal with it. Just as she’s about to pretend she didn’t say anything and jump out of the car and never look back, he just says: “Okay.” And so he stays.
They eat (instant ramen, the only thing in Mel’s cupboard she has the energy to make, and they also split half a raw carrot to at least try and pretend they're eating healthily), and then she showers, and then he showers, and it’s only once he’s out of the bathroom, wearing an oversized T-shirt that Mel sometimes sleeps in and the same pants he came to work in, does she realise that there is a slight problem with the beds, or lack thereof. She can’t just put him or herself in Becca’s room - Becca likes Frank a lot, thankfully, and she obviously loves Mel, but her room is hers . It wouldn’t feel right to invade that space. She catches Frank looking at the couch, and look - it’s an alright couch. It’s functional. But it definitely wouldn’t be comfortable to sleep on for an extended amount of time, even without a back injury. So: “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”
He looks at her, slightly bewildered. “Well, neither are you!”
“I know.” She says, and he tilts his head in confusion, reminding Mel of the way Garcia constantly refers to him as a puppy, in a way that it probably meant to be demeaning but Mel just finds kind of sweet. “My bed is big enough for both of us. It’s kind of the only thing I was willing to spend more money on than I absolutely had to, actually.” His mouth parts slightly, and so she keeps talking before he can say a word. “It’s not - we know it’s not like that. So it’s fine. It’s nothing.”
He looks like he wants to refute that, somehow, though she doesn’t know why, and he doesn’t end up doing it. He just says: “Okay.” in a way that’s so exhausted she can tell he’ll likely be asleep the second his head hits the pillow. And it really almost does. Fortunately, so does hers.
Much like the car rides, this also unexpectedly becomes a part of their routine. It’s definitely not as often, but it still happens - to the point where Mel doesn’t even have to ask if he wants to stay, and Frank doesn’t ask if he can stay, they just know when he will. He always stays at hers, not the other way around and it’s strange, because - Mel is very particular about her space, in the same way Becca is. She’s never liked having people in her room - it belongs to her, and her alone. But slowly, it starts to belong to him a little bit too. He has his own drawer and a spare charger in her nightstand and a pair of his running shoes are under her bed, though he doesn’t even run. He leaves fewer traces of him behind in the rest of the house, but they’re still there - a spare toothbrush in its own special container and his specific body wash in the shower and bananas in the fruit bowl even though neither Becca nor Mel can stand them.
He’s everywhere, even when he’s not there. (Unlike the car rides, this is not something that could probably be justifiably explained to anyone they work with, so it stays between them.)
It’s nice having him there. He’s a more confident cook than Mel is, for one. He’s her best friend, for another. And it’s not all the time - he understands her need for space, and he needs space too, sometimes, or he has his kids on a day off. But it’s enough that even when he isn’t there, her bedsheets will still smell like him days later, and Trinity’s voice will ring through her head, almost taunting: “You’re definitely not fucking him, right?” And she’s not. But -
Well.
She doesn’t remember too much of the dream. There must have been some context, some build up, but all she knows is that it ended with Frank on his knees, one hand on her hip and his mouth on her thigh, and she’s patting his hair like you would a dog, and he looked at her like she imagines a predator animal would, like he wanted to devour her whole and then - she woke up. Thankfully, she was alone - sweaty and flustered and mildly humiliated, but alone. She couldn’t sleep the rest of the night, and then texted him in the morning saying he didn’t need to pick her up today, and then spent most of her shift with Dr Robby - it’s an immature move, but she knows it’s a lot more unlikely that Frank will try and talk to her if she’s next to Robby, given their relationship is still very much in an awkward stalemate. Frank spent the whole shift looking at her, confused, and the other doctors spent the shift looking between them, also confused, and when he finally manages to wrangle her into conversation after the shift she tells him, very hurriedly, that she won’t need him to drive her home tonight either, because Becca has a dance class and it’s going to run late so she’ll just have to go there and wait for her, and he says that Becca’s dance class isn’t today, it’s on Thursday, and she quite literally growls at him and runs away. Then she gets home and buries her head in one of her many pillows and decides she’s allowed this one day of being weird and embarrassed and then she has to go back to normal tomorrow.
He’s waiting for her the next morning, like nothing happened, though he looks both nervous and relieved when she gets in the car. He apologises to her, clearly thinking he did something to upset her, and she apologises to him for making him think that, and as he looks at her, blue eyes wide and earnest, she can’t help thinking about him looking up at her in the same way from between her thighs, eager to please. And then she hurries that thought away, because she can’t entertain it, not now and not ever.
Things are mostly fine after that. The first time he stays the night after the dream has Mel almost falling off the bed in an attempt to ensure that there’s no physical contact between them, but apparently her sleeping body doesn’t get the same memo, because she wakes up with her chest pressed to his back, her arms around his torso. He must have woken up around the same time she did, because he stops her hands when she goes to pull them away, and she lets him. This is far from the first time they’ve woken up in a position like this, which is strange in of itself - Mel’s never been a particularly cuddly person, even with romantic partners, and yet with him it’s second nature. They never really talk about it, either.
Victoria turns 21 a few weeks later, and someone (probably Mateo) decides they have to have a celebration for it, and suddenly Mel is standing in a bar on 7th Street, wearing her favourite pants and a black top Trinity had declared as “hot” when Mel had Facetimed her in a panic the night before. Her friendship with both Trinity and Victoria had come as somewhat of a surprise to them all - in Victoria’s case, they’d worked the night shift together for a week, without Frank (Mel’s typical partner) and Cassie (Victoria’s). Without them there, they’d found themselves working together instead, and something had just - clicked. Suddenly, she had Victoria’s number, and she was calling her Victoria instead of Dr Javadi, and she woke up almost every day to Victoria having sent her at least one Tiktok, which she saves and sends to Mel individually since she doesn’t have the app. It’s nice. Trinity, however, is a bit more complicated, in the sense that she seems to decide that they’re friends a lot earlier than Mel had realised that they were - it wasn’t until Mel had asked her, after two weeks of Trinity sitting with her to eat lunch, why she chose to sit with her anyway, and not Whittaker since she was clearly closer to him than she was to her. Trinity has replied “because you’re my friend, duh. And I see enough of Whittaker at home, anyway.” And that had been that.
(There was also the time that Trinity had pulled her aside, when the rumours about Mel and Frank had first started floating around the hospital, and her face had been very pale and very serious when she asked if Mel was okay, if Frank was taking advantage of her in any way, that she would cut off his dick if he had even considered it. Mel had been confused, mostly - especially because she felt if anyone was taking advantage, it was her, using him as her personal taxi service. She said no, and Trinity asked if she was sure, that she knows it might be hard to talk about, but it was important to. The second “no” that Mel gave her must have been sincere enough that she accepted it, though she didn’t look happy, and it took her the better of two months to stop glaring at Frank every time he so much as grazed Mel’s arm. But she seems to accept her friendship with Frank now, just as he accepts Mel’s friendship with her, though neither of them understand why Mel would want to be friends with the other person. For her own peace of mind, Mel has chosen to never point out how similar they are.)
But the point is - Mel is standing in a bar, and Frank is beside her. She doesn’t have to worry about getting home at a certain time - Becca’s become very close with another girl in her care centre, and so her sleepovers there are becoming more and more frequent, to both Mel’s joy and disappointment. Dr Robby is sat with Collins and Abbot, and he keeps sending concerned glances their way, like he thinks simply being in a bar will send Frank over the edge, and he’ll catch Frank relapsing in the bathroom if he doesn’t keep a continuous eye on him. (Mel feels quite insulted by this on Frank’s behalf. Especially because he’s her sober driver home). Princess is sitting at the bar itself, drinking a glass of white wine and scanning her eyes subtly across their group of colleagues - a work function with alcohol is almost certainly a guaranteed source of gossip, and judging by the way Trinity keeps flitting between Garcia and Ellis, and Abbot keeps watching the door every time it opens like he’s looking for someone, this will be no different. Mel finishes her second gin and tonic and watches as Samira walks in, and Abbot abruptly stands, but before he’s able to do anything Trinity seeks her and Mel out with all the efficacy of a heat-seeking missile, Victoria already in tow, and insists they do shots.
“Okay.” Mel agrees, because despite people’s common assumptions she did have fun in med school the same way they all did, and the two drinks she’s had are already making her feel good, so what harm could a third one do? “But not whiskey. That’s gross.”
“Ew Mel.” Trinity says, looking disappointed that she would even suggest such a thing. “Of course we’re not having whiskey, we’re not old men. Except for, well -” She gestures at Frank, and Victoria snorts, and then abruptly covers her mouth in surprise.
The look on Frank’s face is the one he always has while dealing with Trinity - placid, a little annoyed, but not genuinely angry. “If I’m an old man, that means Garcia and Ellis are old women. You do realise that, right?”
“Yeah, but that’s hot.” She replies, shocking a laugh out of all of them, and then she’s shooing them all except for Frank towards the bar.
Mel turns to Frank, feeling weirdly hesitant to leave him, and he seems to sense her hesitation and just nudges her forward, his eyes going soft in the dim golden light of the bar. “Go. Have two for me. I need to go talk to Cassie, anyway.” Before she can stop herself, she’s reaching out and squeezing his hand, once, and then following her friends to the bar where Trinity and Samira are teaching Victoria some incomprehensible drinking chant they seem personally offended she doesn’t know. They do a shot (tequila, not whiskey), and then another (because Trinity, despite the fact she didn’t hear him, seems to agree with Frank that Mel should have two), and then a Beyoncé song comes on, and Victoria lets out an uncharacteristic scream and pulls them towards the dance floor, and that’s where they stay for a long time, twirling and jumping and singing along to almost every song that comes on. If you had told Mel on her first day in the Pitt that she would be doing this, her head probably would have exploded from embarrassment, but she’s not embarrassed now. She’s just having fun.
The night starts winding down, slowly. Robby and Collins are the first to go, which raises a few eyebrows. Abbot stays, and though he is never cajoled into dancing he does manage to get Samira off the dance floor and into a very engaging conversation, if the hand she has on his arm is anything to go by. Donnie heads out, though not before extracting a promise from Victoria and Mel that they’ll go to his favourite brunch spot one day soon, because he swears Mel will enjoy the matcha latte they have there. And Frank - every time she looks at Frank he’s watching her. Not in a way that makes her feel scared, or trapped. His gaze is comforting, not possessive, and it’s nice.
He seems to sense when she starts feeling ready to leave, because the night has been fun but it’s still very loud and a bit overwhelming and she’s very tired, because he does finally join them on the dance floor, if only to press a glass of water into her hand. She accepts it gratefully, and he tilts his head towards the door, and she nods. She says goodbye to everyone first, not wanting to be rude - Victoria hugs her, which is a first, but not unwelcome, and Garcia jokingly salutes her, and Trinity manages to be shockingly normal about the fact that she’s leaving with Frank until he turns to face the door and then she makes a truly obscene hand gesture. Mel’s face is burning all the way to his car, but fortunately the warmth inside and the alcohol in her system is enough of a justification that he doesn’t ask about it.
The ride back is quiet - Frank Ocean plays softly, part of her winding down mix, and before she knows it they’re at her place, and she realises that she doesn’t want to say goodbye, not yet, and when Frank turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out to make sure she gets inside safe she has to force herself not to let out a loud cheer. Normally she would insist that she’s fine, but it’s been a while since she’s had multiple drinks and the water hasn’t done much to help the fuzziness in her head, and she fumbles with her keys so badly he takes the initiative and unlocks the door himself. He pauses, clearly unsure about what to do now, and so she takes the initiative instead and pulls him inside, and before she knows it they’re in bed with the lights off, not touching, even though she wants to be touching so badly it feels like a physical ache. And then it’s the next morning, and despite the fact she brushed her teeth and used mouthwash last night her mouth tastes like stale alcohol, and Frank is on his stomach beside her, not holding her but with a hand on her stomach underneath her pajama top, almost proprietary. It’s hard to leave him there, but the taste in her mouth is too gross to bear, so she gets up and brushes her teeth and has a big glass of water, and when she comes back to her room Frank is on his back, propped up on an elbow, squinting like he’s trying to figure out where she’s gone.
His eyes soften upon seeing her return, like they always do, and before she can really think about it she climbs back into bed, her back to his front, and tugs his arm around her, and they fall back asleep like that. When they wake up for the second time, Frank’s hand is underneath her top again, on her stomach, and as soon as he seems to realise that he snatches it away like touching Mel’s bare skin has burned him.
And suddenly - she’s so tired. Identifying people’s romantic interest in her has never particularly been her strong suit, something that was endearing to her college boyfriend Ryan when they first starting seeing each other, but slowly frustrated him when she became friends with a boy in her class, James, and she failed to see that he had any interest in her, to the point where Ryan broke up with her because he felt like she was being deliberately oblivious. (She wasn’t, really - she explained this to James in a haha, isn’t that funny that he thought that kind of way, and then James had gone very red and stuttery, and she suddenly realised actually it wasn’t funny at all.) Despite the fact this is a skill she seems to lack, she feels - certain, about Frank, in a way she hasn’t before. She knows that their relationship is nowhere close to a normal friendship, but she also knows, somehow, that she’ll have to be the first one to take the leap if she wants anything to happen.
So: “You know half of our department still thinks we’re dating, don’t you?” She says, turning so that they’re facing each other. He chokes on nothing, wide-eyed, but she keeps going. “Us leaving together last night likely didn’t help, either.”
“Robby and Collins left together too.” He protests, and she can actually see in his eyes the exact second he realises that was possibly the worst comparison he could have made. “I mean, that’s not - Santos has been pretty firm with me that if I so much as look at you the wrong way, she’ll forcibly castrate me.”
“I guess it’s lucky you don’t look at me the wrong way then.” She responds softly, and he opens her mouth like he wants to protest, but he can’t quite figure out what he would be protesting.
“Mel-” He starts, a little brokenly, clearly uncertain. “I don’t want - if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll find a way to stop the gossip.”
She shrugs a little. “I don’t mind it, honestly. It’s kind of funny to know my theoretical love life is so interesting to other people.”
“Yeah, but-” He pauses, eyes darting around her face. “Isn’t it strange? That that’s what they chose to run with?”
“I don’t know, Frank. Is it?” Mel asks, feeling a little bit like she’s been possessed by a more confident version of herself. It’s just - he’s so close, and his body is so warm, and his stupidly handsome face and his stupid nice doctor’s hands have been following her into her dreams more and more, though she’s gotten a lot better at being normal around him afterwards. She can see the moment her words get through to him, and his eyes dip to her mouth and stay there for a long while, and her heart is beating so fast that if she was hooked up to a vitals monitor it would probably register as a minor cardiac episode.
He looks back up into her eyes, and his voice is desperate when he says: “Mel, please, just - I’m not reading this wrong, right? I can’t fuck this up.”
“You won’t fuck this up.” She replies, and he smiles a little like he always does when she swears. “You’re going to go and brush your teeth, because your breath is definitely not fresh. And then you’re going to come back and kiss me. And then - well, I’d quite like to have sex with you, but we obviously don’t have to do that yet if you don’t want to.” He stares at her, not blinking, and then scrambles out of bed so fast he nearly falls over, and he stumbles out of her room. She hears the sink running from the bathroom, and then him brushing his teeth at a speed probably not advised by most dentists, and she takes the moment to bury her face in the pillow he was using and laugh to herself. And then he’s back, standing beside the bed like he’s waiting for permission to be let back in, and she tugs on his hand until they’re lying on their sides again, face to face, and he kisses her.
She doesn’t think any kiss she’s ever had has felt like this one. It’s not that her previous kisses have been bad, but something about this is making her head spin in a way that makes her suddenly understand every protagonist of every romantic comedy she’s ever watched. Frank’s just so gentle with her, but not in a way that makes her feel like he thinks she’s fragile - rather just that he thinks that she’s precious. She’s precious to him. They kiss, and they kiss, and they kiss, and Frank puts a hand on her spine under her shirt and she presses closer to him like she’s trying to fuse their bodies together. Maybe she is. She goes to take her shirt off, and Frank pulls back a little, says: “Were you being serious about the sex thing?” and in response she succeeds in taking her shirt off, leaving the top half of her naked, and his pupils get so big so fast she’s almost worried about him. Thankfully, he seems to realise that she was in fact serious about the sex thing, and he takes his own top off - which is a little disappointing, if only because Mel had wanted to do it herself - and spends a good long while alternating between kissing her mouth and her neck and her breasts, shoving a thigh in between her legs for her to grind down against.
When she feels like she might actually explode he doesn’t start touching her properly, he starts kissing his way down her stomach, and hovers his chin above the waistband of her pajama shorts, raising his eyebrows in a silent question. She nods, and he pulls down her shorts and her underwear in one motion, though she has to wriggle a bit to help him get them off, and then they get caught on her ankle, and they’re both laughing as he finally detangles them and flings them off the side of the bed. Then her legs are over his shoulders and his mouth is on her thigh and then her clit and neither of them are laughing at all. Her first dream was right - he’s looking at her like he wants to devour her, and he does, repeatedly, only stopping when she literally pushes his head away.
He crawls back up her body and kisses her on the mouth and he tastes like both of them and it makes her a little insane. “Condom?” He asks, even though she knows he knows she’s on the pill - has lain beside her in bed and complained when she pulls out of his arms in the morning to take it, and she does have condoms, obviously, she’s an adult woman and a medical professional, but -
“I trust you.” She says, genuinely - she knows he’s clean in all senses, and she knows she is too. Frank looks at her like he can’t quite believe she’s real, and starts to ask if she’s sure and then seems to think better of it once he sees the look on her face, because he knows her and he knows she wouldn’t say that if she wasn’t. When he pushes inside her, finally, she absurdly wants to cry, but instead she just wraps her legs around his hips and moves with him until, surprisingly suddenly, he grunts and comes inside her and buries his face in her neck and she can feel it heat up, like he’s blushing. She wants to laugh - not at him, just in a nice, surprised way, but she knows he likely wouldn’t take that well, so instead she just strokes his hair and waits for him to come out of hiding. He does, eventually, and looks at her, and his face is so sweet and apologetic she can’t help but to cup his cheek.
“Sorry, that was - Jesus. That was worse than when I was a teenager, I think.” He won’t look her in the eye, until she takes his dimpled chin between her fingers and makes him. “I’ve just - I’ve thought about this for a really long time. Though every time I’ve thought about it, it’s obviously been, uh, longer.”
Mel shrugs. “You’ll have plenty more opportunities to be, uh, longer.” and he says “Jesus Christ.” and kisses her and kisses her and she can feel him smiling against her mouth, and he knows he can feel her do the same.
They decide not to say anything to anyone at first - it’s so new, and it’s really not their business. They do tell Becca, though, and she is suitably happy that Mel has found someone to kiss, though she’s quite confused that it’s taken them so long. It turns out she, like almost everyone else in their lives, believed they’d been together the whole time.
Mel is very strict about being professional at work, and Frank doesn’t love it but he does love her (something he reveals a week after they first sleep together, entirely out of the blue, while they’re having dinner together, and Mel accidentally spills a large spoonful of palak paneer down her top in surprise. She then says she loves him too, and Frank deliberately spills a spoonful of his own food down his front so that they match, and Mel chastises him for wasting perfectly good curry, before crawling onto his lap and kissing him). So they work together, like they normally do, and it’s very routine and professional and nobody suspects a thing, as far as she’s aware. And then - a patient’s father who’s clearly displeased with the level of care his son is receiving yanks her back by the arm when she turns to leave him to check on another patient, and Mel isn’t weak or particularly clumsy but he’s is much bigger than she is, and the force of him pulling her sends her off balance and she falls, smacking her head on the side of the patient's bed on the way down.
Security is there immediately, closely followed by both Dana and Trinity, both of whom look like they have intent to kill, and Robby is ordering the man to get the fuck out, and Samira and Cassie take her to a free trauma room, since thankfully the day has been going pretty slow, and Frank - Frank isn’t there, and she remembers he went up to the roof to smoke, the only vice he hasn’t been able to kick. They check her over, even though she insists she’s fine, she didn’t even split skin, and then Robby comes in and checks her again, much to her annoyance, and he asks her if she’s okay, and before she can answer Frank burst through the door, wild-eyed and frantic, and cups her face in his hands and says, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I can’t believe that - I could kill that fucking guy.” And it isn’t until he’s softly stroked over her cheeks and her temple and felt for himself that she’s completely intact that he seems to realise they have an audience.
Samira is grinning, and Cassie is chuckling softly, and Robby seems torn between being happy for them and being agonised at the realisation he’s going to have to bring HR into this, and Mel can see Trinity and Victoria poking their heads through the door, clearly having followed Frank, both wide-eyed in shock. Oh well. It was nice having a secret while it lasted.
There’s only an hour left on their shift, and so Robby tells her to go home, to take Frank with her, that they can deal with this tomorrow. She starts to protest, but it’s clearly as much for his sake as it is for hers, and so she reluctantly heads to her locker, Trinity following her under the guise of moral and emotional support in a crisis. She very decently doesn’t say anything until they’re alone, but as soon as they are she says: “I can’t believe it. You really were fucking him.” and Mel replies: “I wasn’t, every other time you asked me. But I am now.” Trinity laughs so hard she cries, and laughs even more when Frank comes in and asks what they’re talking about, and Mel just takes him by the hand and leads him out of the hospital, not caring in the slightest if anyone sees. He’s hesitant about touching her for the next week and a half, gentle like he’s trying not to spook a horse, eager to help her do anything and it isn’t until he strokes his thumb against his temple while they lie in her bed, kissing, that she realises why. So she tells him that she knows something he could do to help her, and he asks what it is, eagerly, and she informs him primly that it’s going down on her, and he looks slack jawed for a second before scrambling down her body so fast she’s worried he might injure his back again. But he doesn’t. He does go down on her, though. And she was right, it does help.