hear me when I say I just binged read all of the King v. UPMC and I am PRAYIN that your pillows are always cold and fluffed perfectly, that your coffee is always right oh and that your opps (and abby) step on legos :)
This is so lovely!!! Thank you so much for reading, I’m constantly in awe of how much people are enjoying what feels to me like an adhd inspired scrapbook lol. 💕💕💕
Mel really likes Franks arms. Shen, and his equally nice arms, take notice. Turns out, Mel just really likes arms no matter who they're attached to.
Or, Frank and Shen spend an entire shift showing off for Mel's pregnancy hormones.
Read below or on AO3 , 3.9k words, Rated E, choking kink (for like a split second in a fantasy)
Set in the King v. UPMC universe after ch. 47, but can be read as a standalone.
Mel & Frank’s Infinite Playlist
Mel has never felt so out of control in her own body before. She can't sleep on her back anymore, she can't bend down to tie her shoes, and she still gets nauseous even though everyone swore up and down that it would go away after the first trimester. But the most egregious act this pregnancy is committing against her body is that she is so unbelievably horny all day every day.
She's tried to tone it down at home, poor Frank doesn't even complain anymore when she wakes him up at two am, but her body feels likes it's on fire all the time. She's even had to go as far as wearing panty liners daily because of how wet she gets throughout the day. If Frank crosses his arms, if Frank pushes his sleeves up, if Frank performs chest compressions, if Shen leans on the counter in front of her and waves his hand in her face to get her attention—
"Hello, Earth to Mel King," he laughs, "what are you thinking about?"
Mel can feel her face go hot, she knows she must be as red as a tomato right now. And she knows that Shen can see her face is as red as a tomato right now. She squeaks out a "nothing," and tries to walk away before he can ask anything else. Unluckily for her, it's more of a waddle these days, and he catches up pretty quickly.
"Woah, slow down there, momma," he puts his hands up to get her to stop walking away from him. In doing so, Mel notices his biceps flex and catch the light in such a delicious way and she wants to take a bite, just a little one she promises she'll be so good he won't even feel it. "Mel?"
All she can do is blink at him. She's embarrassed, and horny, and feeling guilty for salivating over a man she's not dating. "Sorry," she closes her eyes and shakes her head to try and clear any salacious thoughts. "Sorry, it's been a long day."
He chuckles, "It's eight am, Mel. You just got here."
"Right, right," she stammers out. "I meant week. It's been a long week."
"Well, what can I do to help? I'm all yours today, I'm stuck on a double." He crosses his arms and tracks her eyes as they go to his biceps, yet again. He's noticed her staring before, but he chocked it up to her maybe zoning out in his direction. This is not that. If Shen were a better man, he would not be letting this get to his head. But he's decidedly not a better man. Actually, he thinks he's a pretty shitty man right now for reveling in Mel unapologetically checking him out. He would never do anything about it, obviously. She's with Frank, after all. But if she weren't? He cannot be held responsible for the emotional devastation he would bring upon said boyfriend.
She licks her lips before looking back up, "I have to find Frank." She walks away before she can make an even bigger fool of herself. Get yourself together, Mel. You're acting like a degenerate.
When she finds frank, he's exiting a patients room, taking gloves off. His forearms tense and she can see his basilic vein so prominently, she wants to run her tongue over it. She wants to take him into a patient room and make him watch her rub her bare pussy over his arms to get herself off. She wants to—
"Hey baby," he greets her with a fond smile and a small kiss to her temple.
She clears her throat, "hi." You are no better than a man, Mel King.
"You okay? You look a little red," he gently touches her cheek with the back of his hand. "Do you need some water?"
"Yeah, yes, please. Some water would be good right now." Your arms anywhere on me would also be good right now.
"Go sit down, I'll get your water bottle from your locker," he says as he puts his hand on her lower back and gently pushes her towards the hub. Towards the hub where Shen is, looking at the board. Towards the hub where Shen is looking at the board with his arms crossed. Mel can't help but think her boyfriend literally pushing her in the direction of the very person that has her all flustered is the universe messing with her.
"Hey," he smiles as he looks down at her. "You're back."
"That I am." Can you be any more awkward? She adds finger guns, then looks at her hands and shoves them in the pockets of her sweater. Yes, yes you can.
He laughs, and turns to face her, propping his elbows up on the counter. Mel gulps. She doesn't think she's going to last much longer. Maybe she should tell Robby she's not feeling well. She can go home, take a nice bath, and run out the battery on her vibrator until Frank gets home.
"It's nice to have another shift together," he smiles at her. He's so nice, she almost feels bad for thinking of making a rubber model cast of his biceps to shove it up her—
"Shen," Frank's voice comes from behind her and makes her jump.
"Langdon," Shen nods at him. "Was just telling Mel here that we need her back on nights." He smiles wide at Frank.
Frank snakes an arm around Mels waist. A thick, warm, strong arm. "I think she's happy on days. With me." Has Frank been working out? "Besides, she'll be on maternity leave soon and she needs all the rest she can get until then."
"Just an offer," Shen holds his hands up in defense. "It's good for her to know she has options," he smiles down at her.
Frank tightens his hold on her, "she has everything she needs, thanks."
"You boys need a get along shirt?" Dana asks loudly from behind her computer. "Go clear some beds before I get Robby."
They stare at each other for a moment longer before Shen grabs his coffee and decides it's his time to walk away. "Let me know if you need anything at all, Mel."
Franks hand on her waist flexes before letting go altogether. He kisses her forehead before looking her in the eyes, "come get me if you need something, okay?" She smiles and nods, and he walks off in the opposite direction.
"Is that a normal occurrence with those two?" Dana asks, looking at her from over her glasses. "Can't say I've had the pleasure of being on shift with both of them in the longest."
Mel grimaces, "no, I don't know what that was about." Mel hates lying. But she's not really feeling up to explaining the dynamic to Dana. Mel is with Frank, and she's having his baby, but Mel also knows that Shen had a crush on her at one point. She thought he was over it. He said he was over it. That he just likes riling Frank up. But this didn't seem like just riling Frank up. "I think I'm gonna take the head lac in Central Nine." She needs to be anywhere else right now.
The head lac in Central Nine turns into a sprained ankle in South Eighteen that turns into a UTI in North Three. A pretty easy morning, and she hasn't thought about anyone's biceps in two and a half hours. She's refilling her bottle in the breakroom when Shen walks in carrying catering boxes.
"Hey Mel," he says as he puts down the boxes on the table in front of her. "Got some Primanti Bros for everyone." He opens one of the top boxes and pulls out a separately wrapped and labeled sandwich and hands it to her, "I got you a panini since you can't have cold cuts." She wants to eat that sandwich out of his palm. She wants to take it apart and lay every ingredient on his forearm like you would for naked body sushi.
"Thanks Shen," she manages to say out loud. He shakes the sandwich in his hand to prompt her into taking it, and laughs. "Sorry, sorry. It's been—"
"A long week," he interrupts, smiling. "Yeah, you mentioned that." He looks at her then, to test his theory, put his hands flat on he table, and leans toward her. "So, how have you been feeling? How's the baby treating you?" He sees her eyes glaze over a little as they trail up from his hands all the way to his shoulders. He wonders for a moment if Langdon is even taking care of her. Probably not, from how pent up she seems.
She places her hand over her belly, grounding herself, and finally answering, "uh, it's been a journey, that's for sure." She sits down and focuses on unwrapping the sandwich. "Overall, I have to say I'm really enjoying it. I still get a little nauseous every once in a while, and sleeping isn't the easiest," she's too focused on the sandwich, she's starting to ramble, "and my back is achy, and God, my breasts are just so sensitive all the time." She freezes, realizing what she's said and who she's said it too. She looks up at Shen, mortified, and he's smiling. "I am so sorry, please don't report me for harassment."
Shen laughs at her, "don't worry, Doctor King, I've heard it all." Oh, he's so understanding, and sweet, and considerate. He stands up straight and crosses his arms again. And beefy. God, what she wouldn't give to have those arms holding up her belly. Shen chuckles, rubs a hand down his face and says, "enjoy the sandwich Mel." He leaves her alone in the breakroom with her lewd thoughts. She wonders if she should embroider a giant scarlet A on her scrub top.
Frank finds her later out in the ambulance bay, staring at her phone. "Hey, sweetheart, what are you doing out here?" She looks back over her shoulder and waves her phone to show him the lava lamp app. "That bad, hm?" He goes to give her a hug but she backs away. "Hey, what's going on?"
Mel looks at her feet and shakes her head. She feels so guilty, and she can feel her throat getting tight. She steps forward and buries her head in his chest. Frank doesn't even hesitate to wrap her up in his arms. He holds her tight, knowing she needs the pressure. "Oh, sweet girl, you're okay," he coos at her, and rubs her back gently. "You wanna walk me through your thoughts? I can help you organize them." Oh, she loves him so. How can she ever tell him how much of a sexual deviant she's been all day. Especially when he's never been anything but good to her. She loves him so much, it makes her physically ill. "Come on, come sit for a moment," he leads her to the back of an open ambulance. "Tell me what you're feeling, and I'll fix it."
"Frank," she looks down at their intertwined hands. "I'm just so horny all the time," she whisper shouts. Frank lets out a bellowing laugh. "Don't laugh! I'm serious."
"Baby, if that's what's been bothering you, you should've told me," he closes the distance and starts to nuzzle his face into her neck, kissing his way up to her ear. "We could've have gone to a call room, or the car, I could have taken care of you." He nibbles on her ear.
"Frank," she moans out. "Wait, that's not it." He stops and sits back so he can look at her, waiting for her to continue. She grimaces, "I've been staring at your arms all day, thinking the crudest things…but it's been happening with Shen too…"
Frank is taken a back for a moment, then schools his face. He learned long ago that Mel will react strongly to his facial expressions, whether positive or negative. "Uh, what—what do you mean?"
"I mean, his arms just look so nice and your arms look so nice and I just want to be surrounded by a weighted blanket of forearms and biceps." She looks up at him with a longing stare. "I'm so sorry, Frank. I don't know what's come over me. I promise I have never thought of Shen as more than a friend."
Frank huffs out a quiet laugh, "oh, baby, it's okay. You have no control over your hormones right now. But you haven't done anything wrong." He lifts their intertwined hands to press a kiss on the back of her hand.
"Frank, how can you just be so okay with what I've said?" She looks at him like he's deranged. "I've—I've been acting like a—like—like a—a strumpet!"
Frank gapes at her and throws his head back to laugh loudly. "Mel, a strumpet? I wasn't aware we were in the fourteenth century." He pulls her forward gently, "listen to me. You are my partner, you are the love of my life, and you are carrying our baby. You are allowed feel things." He cradles her face in his hands, "am I over the moon that you're checking Shen out? Not really." He dips his head to nudge her nose with his, "but I don't care. Because at the end of the day, you're coming home with me. You're coming home to our bed, and I'm the only one that's making love to you. Got it?"
All Mel can do is nod her head before he closes the space and kisses her. He pulls away quicker than she would have liked, and she tries chasing his mouth, but he moves back. "Come on pretty girl, last thing we need is to be caught by Robby or Dana. We'd never hear the end of it." He holds out a hand for her and guides her back in to the ER. He turns to her, "I'll be in South Twenty," he puts up his arm to flex his bicep and points in the direction of the room, "if you need me." She laughs, and he smiles over his shoulder as he walks away.
She makes her way to check on the labs for her patient in Central Eleven, and find Shen at the Hub. "Well, well, well, Dr. King. We've got to stop meeting like this," he beams at her. "Your day getting any better?"
She smiles, "yeah, I think so." She looks up at him, "how's your double going? Exhausted yet?"
He leans on the counter and rests his head in his hand, making his shirt sleeve pull tight around his muscle. The effect is immediate, her eyes glaze over and drop to his bicep, like clockwork. Mel wonders for a very, very, very brief moment, if Frank would let her bring Shen home with them. He was so cool about her staring problem, maybe he'd also be cool about letting her stare a little longer in a more intimate setting. She can feel her salivary glands activating, and she can feel herself getting wetter at the thought of Frank and Shen having their way with her. Maybe Shen would massage her breasts from behind while Frank used his arms to hold her legs open so he could drag his tongue through her folds. Or maybe Frank would wrap one of his arms around her throat, applying gentle pressure while she watched Shen's forearm tense as he opened her up on his fingers and made her—
"Eh, doubles are a lot easier when you have a pretty view, " he winks at her. Mel is going to hell. But first, she needs to change her panty liner.
By the afternoon, Mel felt like her body would never regulate back to normal temperature. Frank had asked her to come watch him perform a shoulder relocation, though she suspects it was just him wanting her to see him flex. "We're a teaching hospital, Mel. I'm trying to teach you." And Shen had shown up, seemingly out of thin air, to help reposition her bariatric patient. He made sure to stand where she would have an unobstructed view of his arms, though he'd never admit to it.
At present, the three of them find themselves in Trauma Bay 2, with Frank performing compressions on a coding patient.
Shen, observing, says "switch at two minutes."
"I'm good," he glances quickly between Shen and Mel.
At the four minute mark, Shen tries again, "I'll take over."
"I'm fine," his shoulders and forearms flexed with each compression, sweat already darkening the collar of his scrub top.
Shen rolled his eyes. "You're on minute four."
"I'm still getting good depth."
"Frank, your back," Mel reminds him gently.
"Yeah, Langdon, listen to your girl."
"Yeah, exactly, my girl," his cadence faltering for a second.
Shen moves into position, "I'm taking over now." He picks up the count without hesitation, his cadence perfect. His veins prominent along his forearms, also perfect.
Frank follows Mel's line of sight, "Jesus Fucking Christ." He rips his gloves off and stalks out of the bay.
Mel watches Frank leave, shocked. She looks back at Shen, "I'm going to get Robby, I'm not allowed to do compressions this far along," she says quickly before hurrying out to find anyone, really.
Once the patient is stable she finally gets to sit to update her chart. She makes it all of 5 minutes before a shadow falls over the keyboard. She looks up to find Trinity watching her.
"Melicoccus—"
"I don't like that one."
"Melancholy." Mel makes a face and shrugs. That one is better, she supposes. "Your boyfriends are having a…verbal altercation in the breakroom."
Mel looks up at her immediately. She doesn't wait for any details before making her way over to the breakroom.
She finds them too close for her comfort, Shen with his hands in his pockets, and Frank with his arms crossed across his chest. Neither of them looks to be in a good mood. She stops short of the doorway, to not interrupt.
"I'm not gonna apologize for having feelings," Shen's voice is calm.
"I'm not asking you to. I just need you to stop flirting with the mother of my child."
"I flirt with everyone," Shen says, exasperated, trying to brush him off.
"Not like you do with her," Frank rubs at his eyes with one of his hands. "Look, we used to be good friends, and as your friend I'm asking you to please back off."
Shen puts his hands up in defeat, "I'm not trying to ruin anything for you Frank. Mel's an amazing woman. And I'm very happy for you both."
Frank narrows his eyes at him and nods, "I appreciate it. You'll stop flirting with her, then?"
Shen laughs, "I'm not even really doing anything, man. She just kinda loses focus when my arms are exposed near her. I think your girls just hor—"
Mel decides the rest of the conversation is none of her business. She's beyond embarrassed, uncomfortably pregnant, and still worked up. She should've gone with her first instinct and told Robby she wasn't feeling well today. She's pacing near the lockers, debating on if she can get it together enough to last the remaining two hours of her shift when Frank finds her.
"Come on," he says, opening her locker to get her stuff. "I told Robby I was taking you home."
"What? Why would you do that?" Was he really that upset with her? He'd sounded so reassuring in the ambulance bay. What had changed between then and the code in Trauma 2? What had she done wrong?
"Mel," he rubs at his eyes. Maybe he really can read her mind. Maybe they were so chemically imprinted on eachother that he knew what she needed before even she did. Frank puts her bag over his shoulder, garbs her waist with one hand, and places the other on her cheek. He spoke slowly, finding the right words, "look, I'm sorry for…reacting the way I did. I promise I was really fine with you…thinking about his arms. But seeing it happen infront of me was not a fun time."
"Frank—"
"That being said," he interrupts quickly, "I do feel a little better when I remember it's the hormones driving you crazy, and it's my baby you're carrying." He smiles at her and closes the distance to give her a small annoyingly work-appropriate kiss. "I guess that's one heck of a consolation prize," he huffs out a laugh and tightens his arm around her.
She lifts her hand to wrap around the arm near her face. She squeezes his forearm, and smiles up at him. "I love you, and I'm sorry you had to bear witness to my moral indiscretions," she frowns at him.
He throws his head back and cackles. "Mel, please, you're not in the Scarlet Letter." He puts his other hand up to her cheek now. She's immediately hyperaware that she is caged by both of his arms. She can feel her eyes glaze over, she can vaguely remember where her body is in relation to the room. But right now, all there is is Frank and Franks arms. And, oh, Mel wants to melt her body down, be spread out in a thin sheet, cooled to an appropriate temperature, and be fit around his bicep as a permanent cuff for all of eternity. She wanted to live out her days with her face smushed against his arm. Either arm, though she prefers the right. She suspects it's a little larger because of his alone time post-separation/pre-Mel.
Mel. She faintly hears her name, she thinks. Mel. A little stronger this time, was she doing something before this? Did she exist B.A. (Before Arms)? She thinks she existed as a single-celled organism in primordial soup until the day Frank was born. Her only providence to be here in this moment, surrounded by him. "Mel!" She blinks up at him.
"Jesus, baby, you're so high-strung right now, it's genuinely a liability for you to keep working today," he kisses her forehead and drops his arms, reaching for her hand to lace their fingers. "Let's get you home before you spontaneously combust," he laughs. And Mel has no choice but to let herself be led, because she's not entirely sure her brain has come back online yet. They pass Shen on the way out, who only gives her a tight lipped smile. He squeezes her hand and smiles at her. She brings her free hand up to grip his arm, and giggles. She briefly wonders if he'll let her sinkher teeth into him. She'd have to do it twice, at the very least. Once with his arm at rest, then again with his arm flexed. A third time to consider it science. Actually, she'll have to repeat the bites three times each. She'd need a controlled variable as well. What hypothesis is she testing? Skin turgor? Maybe a capillary refill test—
"Alright baby, I'm trying to buckle you in here, I need a little cooperation," he chuckles. She blinks up at him. When did she get in the car? "I promise my arms and I will take very good care of you when we get home." She'll have to recreate her experiment on the other arm, as well. And she'll have to document it as well. And if she's going to document it, she should have examples of his arms in various states of motion and tension. And if she looks back at her data at a later date when he's not around, well, that's her prerogative.
you don’t have the crazy distance I should have been more specific oops, but the baby bump green dress photo used is ai, the formatting is wonderful though and it’s an amazing fic!
Thank you so much for telling me!! I get all the pics from Pinterest, and sometimes my geriatric eyes are tricked :( I’ll be updating that asap! And thank you for reading!!
the baby bump gender announcement post towards the end of chapter 45 of King v. UPMC is ai generated… 😕
The picture??? If it’s the format, I put all my html/css sources in the notes of chapter 1! I use WO3 for the Instagram pics. If that’s what’s coming up, then I will gladly go back and re-format all the IG posts!
Somebody told Frank that Mel has a boyfriend that looks like a wife that he had in February of last year.
Or, Frank finds out from McKay that Mel has a boyfriend that looks like Abby.
(OR, Mel is dating Abby's brother.)
AO3 , 5.1k words, Rated M, no warnings apply
Mel & Frank's Infinite Playlist
Frank has been having a generational run of bad luck. In the past week he has gotten a flat tire, cracked his phone screen, shrank his scrubs in the dryer, got punched in the nose by an unruly patient, and locked himself out of his apartment. Though he maintains the last one was Abby's fault for fighting with him about holiday visits over the phone and distracting him. What the fuck does he care if her brother wants to introduce the family to his new girlfriend?
So, when he's in the breakroom about to take his much needed first sip of coffee and he overhears Cassie talking to Samira about the guy Mel has been seeing, he looks up so suddenly that his hand doesn't react quickly enough and he pours his coffee all down the front of his scrubs.
"What the hell, Frank?" Cassie laughs at him, reaching over to pass him some napkins. "You good, bud?"
"Yeah, yeah, guess I'm still half asleep," he sends a tight lipped smile her way and heads to the lockers to get a fresh scrub top.
He can't stop thinking about what Cassie said. Since when has Mel been seeing someone? Since when had Mel been dating at all? She'd never mentioned anything to him, not that she needs to, but he thought they'd been getting closer. They carpool a few times a week, they text often enough about random things, and she's even met his kids. Okay, granted, she met them when they ran into each other at the grocery store. But…still. He had to find Cassie and get more information out of her. It's not like he could just walk up to Mel unprompted and say "hey, I heard you have a boyfriend." That'd be weird, because why does he care?
It's not until almost 11 am when he finally has a chance to ask Cassie in the ambulance bay.
"They met on a dating app," Franks eyes widened at her as she takes a drag of her cigarette. "Yeah, I was surprised about it too, but she said Trinity and Victoria set it up for her. I thought she would have told you. You both seem…chummy."
"No…no, she hasn't mentioned it," he leans back against the wall. "How long have they been seeing each other? Is it serious?"
She laughs and shakes her head, "what am I, Google? Ask her yourself, Frank."
"I can't do that. What if she thinks I'm being nosy?"
"Oh, and cornering your coworker to ask personal information about her isn't?" She laughs again. He crosses his arms and looks away. "What's going on, why are you acting all heartbroken over this? If I remember correctly, you were very adamant in telling me you don't see her that way."
"And I don't. Or, I didn't?" He sighed heavily. "I don't know Cass, I thought maybe I had some more time to figure it out. I mean, it's only been 8 months since my divorce. And I know that sounds like a lot of time to figure my shit out—"
"It's not a lot of time at all," she interrupts him. "When Chad and I separated, I don't think I even thought of dating for at least a year. Not for lack of trying, though. Just, you know," she shrugs and takes another drag. "Life happens and our jobs are crazy, and then you have after school activities and play dates and then the next thing you know, eight months have gone by, you're a new attending and you're upset the resident you have a crush on is seeing someone else," she laughs as she nudges his arm with her elbow.
Frank huffs out a laugh, "it's just a lot of change for the kids. And Mel deserves someone that does things right with her. I don't know if that can be me. And, God, Abby would flip her shit if she found out she was right about Mel." He turns to face Cassie, leaning against the wall on his arm. "Do you remember that time she came to drop the kids off on her way home back in April?"
"Boy, do I. She left with an even more sour face than when she walked in. And poor Mel, after she asked her if you guys were fucking," she barks out a laugh. "Always a treat, she is."
"God, don't remind me. I guess she saw Mel and I talking and she got it in her head that we were flirting and "eye-fucking,"" he says, holding up finger quotes. "Her words. Anyway, she still takes any opportunity to ask about my "work wife," again, her words."
"Yikes," she grimaced. "Actually, you know, speaking of Abby," Frank side eyes her, bracing himself for whatever unhinged comment is about to come. "I was mentioning to Samira that I saw Mel with her new beau at a bookstore Harrison and I were passing by this weekend. You and her have remarkably similar tastes."
"Are you saying her boyfriend looks effeminate? Otherwise, I'm not following."
She laughs, "I'm saying that Mel also has an affinity for gingers, apparently."
"I do not have an affinity for gingers. May I remind you, she had blonde hair when we met. If anything, I was tricked."
"Frank, surely the last name O'Connor could have told you you'd have ginger children." Cassie puts out her cigarette. "Maybe Mel will have ginger kids too and then you can set up playdates and you can look at her longingly for the rest of your life."
"That's not funny. Maybe it's not serious, I just have to let it run its course."
"Mmm, that's not what Samira said, "she starts to walk away.
"What did Samira say?" He walks after her, whisper shouting the closer they get to the ambulance bay doors. "Cassie, what did Samira say?"
She looks over her shoulder at him, "he invited her to spend Thanksgiving with his family."
Frank stops dead in his tracks. Fuck.
Meeting the family already? Are they that serious and Frank never even knew the guy existed? Surely she would have mentioned him at some point. Or had his subconscious spared him anytime she had brought him up? Frank was feeling out of his depth. In the span of six hours he had, both, realized he has actual deep feelings for his resident, his close friend, and also found out she has a serious boyfriend. He must have been a real piece of shit in a past life to be hit with this seemingly never ending streak of bad luck.
And because the universe doesn't think him worthy of even an ounce of respite, his phone notifies him of an incoming call from Abby. He sighs deeply before answering, "hello?"
"Frank, how are you," she asks, unusually cheerful.
"I'm good Abs, what's up? Did Tanner get in trouble again?"
She huffs out a laugh, "no, nothing like that. I just wanted to extend the invitation from my parents to Thanksgiving dinner."
"Uh—" he's caught off guard, but she cuts him off before he can give an excuse.
"Before you say no, I spoke to your mom. She already told me they're going to be at an all-inclusive in the Dominican Republic." Frank didn't know that. Though, knowing would require him to talk to anybody outside of the hospital, the cafe, and his children.
"Look, Abs, I appreciate it, really, but won't that be weird? You were literally fighting me on the holiday schedule last week."
"Yeah, well, that was before I found out my ex-husband was gonna have a lonely fucking Thanksgiving. I have a heart, sue me." He can hear her shuffling around in the background, she never could stay still talking on the phone. "Whatever, come or don't. I just thought it'd be good for Tanner and Penny to have you there. They've gone through a lot of changes this year." He supposes she's right, and it would be nice to not have to cook for one. "I promise no weirdness on my end. And we can gossip about Matt's new girlfriend he's bringing. Says she's a history dork, so you'll have that in common."
"Gee, thanks," he says dryly. "Yeah, I guess I'll be there. Tell your parents I said thanks for the invite."
Frank hangs up the phone and just stands there for a moment. He rubs at his eyes and takes a grounding breath. One dinner with his ex-in-laws, not the worst things. His kids will be there, at least. Maybe Cathy won't make her disgustingly watery green bean casserole. Maybe John won't talk his ear off about The Belfast Agreement again. Maybe Matt's new girlfriend will be distraction enough for him to eat, play with his kids, and go home unscathed.
"Hey, kid, you gonna stand out here all day?" He turns around to see Dana calling out to him. "Robby's lookin' for ya."
"Thanks, Dana, just needed a minute."
"Don't sweat it," she pats his shoulder when he gets closer to her. "We all have those days. You know where to find me if you need to talk, yeah?"
"Yeah," he smiles at her. "Thanks. Really."
The rest of his shift comes and goes uneventfully, a rare occurrence in the Pitt. You could see everyone looking around wide-eyed, but no one wanted to say the Q word, lest they be punished by the fates with a sudden mass casualty.
Mel finds him by the lockers as he's getting his stuff out. "Hey Doctor Langdon, feels like I've barely seen you all day." She smiles at him as she reaches for her own locker.
"Mel, please, it won't kill you to call me Frank," he smiles at her. "You've seen the inside of my car. Safe to say we're friend if you can stand to be near me after seeing the amount of goldfish crackers and other unknown crumbs in there."
She laughs. God, does he love the sound of her laugh. And her voice, and just about any sounds that comes out of her. He needs to get it together before he starts thinking of all the sounds that could possibly come out of her. He's once again kicking himself for being the last person on the planet to realize how into Mel King he is. "Sorry, Frank. Force of professional habit. I would also like to think we're friends."
"Come on, I'll drive you home," he says, already heading towards the exit without waiting for her to answer.
"Oh, uh, actually a friend is picking me up today," she says, sounding a little shy. She's wringing her hands in front of herself, and not making eye contact. "We're gonna go to the mall to buy an outfit for Thanksgiving. They invited me to spend it with their family since Becca is going to be with Adam's family." The lack of pronouns doesn't evade him. It dawns on him suddenly that she definitely knows how he feels. Maybe she's just trying to let him down gently without making things awkward.
"That's really nice, Mel. I hope you have a good time," he smiles at her genuinely. Because he does. He really does hope she has a good time. A great time, even. A fantastic time. With her fantastic boyfriend. And his fantastic family. Get a grip, Langdon.
"I hope so too, I get so nervous meeting so many new people at once," she grimaces a little where she gets that tiny scrunch on her nose that he wants to suddenly kiss away. My god, has he just been living in complete denial this whole time? "But what about yourself? What are your plans for tomorrow?"
"I work," he smiles and nods. And then, as an afterthought, remembers to add, "and, uh, heading over to Abby's parents house for dinner. They were nice enough to invite me over even though I committed the sin of divorcing their only daughter." He laughs awkwardly, then clears his throat. "They're nice, just a lot. Her mom is the type to overfeed her guests, and her dad loves to talk about how much he misses Ireland and how much better it is over there than here."
She laughs, "they sound like lovely people. I'm glad you won't be alone, Frank."
"Yeah, I'm glad you won't be alone either. Maybe for Christm—" he's cut off by her phone ringing.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, my friend is here to get me," she types out a message on her phone and then looks back up at him. "What were you saying?"
"It was nothing, go ahead, I'll text you."
She smiles, and starts to walk away before turning back around to give him a tight hug. Before letting go, she whispers in his ear, "Happy Thanksgiving, Frank." And he doesn't know if he's ever had a more embarrassing boner. Thanksgiving isn't even one of the sexy holidays. Don't think about stuffing Mel, Langdon. The fact that he went home and took care of himself while thinking about stuffing Mel is between him and God.
***
"Come in, come in!" Cathy greets him at the door, "everyone is in the living room, go make yourself at home, Frankie." She reaches for his coat and pats at his cheek.
"Thanks, Cathy. I'm sorry I didn't bring anything, I cam straight from my shift." He says lamely, shoving his hands in his pockets. Really, he meant to stop for a dessert or some wine, but he procrastinated and by the time he left work, he realized the only thing open was the gas station. He'd forgotten places closed early today, or, he'd never really thought about it. Abby always had everything ready on Thanksgivings, all he had to do was show up.
Abby intercepts him on the way to the living room, looking equal parts giddy and anxious. "Listen to me," she puts her hands up in defense. "I had no idea. When he told me her name, I didn't even think twice about it, because really it's such a common name. And he never told me what she did or anything else about her, actually I didn't ask cause I figured how many of his girlfriends actually last, you know?"
"Abby, you're rambling," he cuts her off. "What are you talking about?"
"Matt's girlfriend is here," she looks over her shoulder to see if there's anyone else around. He can hear the kids playing, screaming and a familiar voice talking to them. Only, it's not familiar to this family. He looks at Abby, and sees her eyes wide and her head nodding. Oh, she finds this hilarious. Abby's not stupid. He knows that she knows about his fondness for Mel. And she knows that he knows he's fucked.
"You should have seen her face when I opened the door for them." Abby makes a mock shocked expression. "Poor girl, she looked like a deer in headlights. I think she's still scared of me from that time I dropped off the kids at your job," she laughs.
"Well you did ask her in front of the nurses if she was screwing your ex," he glares at her. "Again, completely uncalled for."
She waves him off, "oh, fuck off, the divorce was fresh and I'm warranted at least one crazy ex-wife act." How many times are you entitled to one crazy ex-wife act, because he's lost count, he thinks. "Whatever, point is, as cute as my brother is with her, I need you to ruin that."
He looks at her like she's crazy, "what the hell, Abs?"
"Listen to me, we both know very well that if you don't date her, you'll just live out the rest of your days single and pining and yearning and just being an overall sad sack of shit."
Ouch. Has his crush on Mel been this obvious to everyone but him? Most importantly, has it been obvious to Mel and she's just been too nice to let him down?
Abby keeps rambling, "and my parents are never going to be okay with me dating again unless you also move on."
"Hold on, Abs. First of all, you're on your second crazy ex-wife act right now," she thumps him on the forehead with her finger. "Ow! Second of all, what do you expect me to do? Just waltz in there and steal Mel away like some crazed rom-com character?"
"Yeah, I'm sure she'd love that," she nods earnestly. "He favorite attending that gets her panties wet at night rushing in to tell her he wants her? I would be sold."
"Abby, for fucks sake," he rubs at his eyes. "You're clinically unwell, has anyone ever told you that?"
"Can't say anyone has," she looks up, pretending to think. "Listen, there's this dad in Penny's class, and we've really hit it off, and it'd be nice to introduce him to everyone,"
He perks up at that, "is it Jonah, Eric's dad? You know his family has a go-kart track on their property, that'd be real cool to try out."
"It's not Jonah, though it sounds like you're interested in him," she laughs. He just glares at her. "It's George, Isabella's dad." She smiles fondly.
"George?!" He makes a grossed-out face, "gross. That guy wears so much aftershave, it's pungent."
"I happen to like the way he smells, and that's none of your concern. I didn't yuck your yum when you decided you want to sexually defile the human embodiment of baby bunny."
"I'm done with this conversation, by the way," he starts walking away in the direction of the living room. He tries to steel his composure as best as possible, expecting to see PDA he'll never recover from. Instead, he find Mel laying on the floor coloring with Tanner while Penny is sat on her back, unbraiding her hair. Somehow, this is ten times worse.
"Mel," he manages to get out as a lame greeting.
She looks up immediately, "Doctor Langdon, hi!" She shuffles the kids around so she can get up to greet him. She brushes her skirt off, and that only serves to bring his eyes down to her legs. He's never seen her legs, granted, they are covered in tights, but they're not scrubs, and that's the part his caveman brain gets stuck on. He only realizes he's been staring too long when a throat clears to his left.
"Hey man, good to see you," Matt reaches out to give him a quick side hug.
"Uh, yeah, you too," he starts looking between them. "Sorry, how did you guys meet?"
"Oh, we matched on a dating app," he says easily, putting his arm around Mel.
"Trinity and Victoria made my profile and I figured I'd just give it a shot," she shrugged, sending a small smile at Matt. Frank thinks he's going to be sick.
"Nice, nice, nice," he stays staring between the two. "You never mentioned you were seeing anyone," he directs at her, completely ignoring Matt standing there.
"Oh! Well, it's fairly recent," she steps away from Matt and kneels on the floor to continue coloring with Tanner, who immediately tries to sit in her lap. Penny goes back to playing with her hair as if the interruption never happened.
"Meeting the family seems pretty serious," he looks at Matt, then back at her.
"Matthew was very kind in inviting me over, since Becca is with Adam and his family, so he didn't want me to be alone." You wouldn't have been alone, he thinks. We could have been alone together. He just nods, feigning understanding.
"That's really nice of you, Matt," he nods at him. "Um, well, Tanner, buddy, you wanna go play catch outside for a bit?" He knows he's being awkward, but he can't help it. His brain is running at half-speed trying to catch up. Mel is dating Abby's brother, but it's apparently not serious? He needs some air, and Tanner is ignoring him. "Tan? Wanna go play with dad?"
"But I'm coloring with Melly," he sinks deeper into her lap, bringing the coloring book up from the floor to shield his face from his dad.
He decides to try his luck with his daughter. Surely she cares for his presence. "Pen? Wanna play together?" She doesn't even answer, just keeps playing with Mels hair. Mel shoots him an apologetic smile.
Abby makes her way into the living room, looks around, and laughs lightly. "Forget it, Mel's the hot new commodity. They haven't paid attention to any of us since she got here." She steps closer to Frank so only he can hear her, "almost as if she's meant to be part of the family."
"So Matty, how long have you two been together?" She says in a fake sweet voice. "I feel like mom would have mentioned if you had finally decided to settle down with a pretty girl."
Matt threw his sister an annoyed glance, "we've been hanging out a few weeks."
"Hanging out, huh?" She looks back at Frank. "Mel, what do you think so far? You wanna be my sister-in-law?"
Matt and Frank both look at Abby like she's lost her mind, while Mel stutters out a response, "oh! I—uh—I mean—we haven't even—Matt?" She look at him for help, but he's equally thrown off.
Frank intervenes before it gets worse. "Mel, do you wanna go for a walk before dinner?"
She slides Tanner off her lap and gets up quickly, "I think I would very much like to…be anywhere else. Yes, please." He follows her out, looking back at Matt getting ready to tear into Abby. He really doesn't miss holidays at her parents house. Abby has a way (and a love) for getting under people's skin…especially her brothers.
He grabs his coat as he follows Mel outside and drapes it over her shoulders. "Thank you, and thank you for getting me out of there," she looks up at him.
"I'm sorry about Abby," he sighs. "I feel like I'm always sorry about Abby. She means well…most times."
"I should have asked more questions when he told me he was Irish. But I didn't make the connection because I've only ever known her as Abby Langdon, not as Abby O'Connor." She sighs and puts her arms through the sleeves of his coat, letting her arms dangle at her sides as they stroll slowly.
"I don't think she's changing it back, she says she likes having the same last name as the kids. Though, that might change if she ever remarries. Then she'll be someone else's problem on Thanksgiving," he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Mmm," she hums in response. "Do you think you would ever remarry?"
Now, Frank could be imagining things, but he thinks he feels her pinky brush against his. He can't look down, on the high chance he's utterly wrong about this. So he just leaves his hand where is, doesn't move it in case he spooks her.
"Yeah, I think I would. To the right person, this time," he risks a glance at her from the corner of his eye. Her brow is furrowed, so he decides to clarify, "I can't say that Abby and I would have ever gotten married if she hadn't been pregnant. I mean, I loved her at one point, and I'll always have love for her, but she also drives me insane in a way I want to commit several crimes. Benzos unrelated."
She looks up at him with wide eyes and laughing through a gasp, "Frank!"
He laughs and he touches her arm gently to signal her to stop walking. "All that say, she isn't my person," he looks her in the eyes and reaches out for her hand tentatively with his fingers. "So, yes, I would very much like to marry the right person one day."
She's quiet, searching his eyes for something. He lets her take her time. She reaches her hand out further, and this time he knows she's touching his hand. He can feel her fingers playing with his. But as quickly as it started, she pulls away. "Good to know," she smiles and starts to walk away.
And for all the bad luck the universe had stacked up against him the past few months, it finally tipped in his favor. Because the split-second decision he makes to pull her back by the hand and finally kiss Mel King pays off when he feels her sigh deeply into his mouth and kiss him back. It's a kiss so desperate and wanting, his arms wrap around her waist tightly and he's pulling her up against him. One of her arms is hugging him over his shoulder, the other deeply rooted in his hair. He deepened the kiss and he realized in that moment that there was no spark, no fireworks, no romantic music. There was only her. Her touch, her smell, her taste. He licked into her mouth to chase that taste, only pausing when he hears her moan softly. He was right, he does love every sound that comes out of her. A sound so beautiful, so holy, he wants to drop down to his knees and worship. Though, maybe not in front of his ex-wife's parents house.
He pulls his face away slowly, watching her still with her eyes closed, her face fully flushed. He pecks her nose and then her cheek, and then makes his way back to her mouth. She sighs, and then finally opens her eyes.
"Frank?"
"Yeah?"
"Would we be terrible people if we leave before dinner?" Her eyes are hooded and they've falled back to his lips. His grip tightens around her.
"I think they'll be fine without us." He gives her one last quick peck before finally letting go. "Let's go in and say goodnight," she nods in dazed agreement, and he leads her back to the house where Cathy is smacking Matt with a rolled up magazine.
"Matthew O'Connor, you've let another good one slip away!"
"Quit it, mom! It's not my fault all the girls like doctors!" He says, shielding himself behind his sister.
"Let me pack you guys up some food," Abby starts walking towards the kitchen. "I'm not a very good lipreader, but I think one of you said something about saying goodnight."
"Were you watching us from the window?" Frank stares at her in disbelief.
"The kids are hogging the t.v.," she shrugs, "I needed some form of entertainment."
"And that's our cue to leave," he says as he turns to the rest of the family. "Cathy, lovely as always. John," he nods at the man. "Matt, I'm so sorry but I'm taking Mel with me."
Mel looks at Matt with the most apologetic eyes he has ever seen, "Matt I am so so sorry," and then she whispers terribly, "he's the one I told you about!" And a clear wave of understanding washes over Matt's face so quickly, that Frank now has a myriad of questions. Like, what did you tell him? and what did you tell him? and WHAT did you tell him? — okay, so he has one question.
They say goodbye to the kids, who are desperately trying to make their parents plan a playdate with Melly. She promises to see them very soon, and Frank hopes that means she's accepted her fate of never leaving his bed.
When they're finally in the car, Frank makes it all of five minutes before interrogating her. "What did you tell Matt about me?"
She laughs, looks over at him, and says "do you remember that double shift we had back in September when the power went out and we ended up sharing the call room because Trinity and Yolanda decided they wanted to share?"
Of course he does. They shared a bed and he got to pretend he didn't wake up with a boner from accidentally cuddling her. She had been so cool about it, too. "Vaguely," he says, not sure where she's going with this.
"Well, I guess you were so exhausted, that before you fell asleep, you told me you loved me," she smiles at him. If he weren't concious of the fact that he's driving, he would have crashed. "And I know you didn't think I was Abby in that moment, because you said "goodnight, Mel, I love you." Then you started snoring not even a minute later and left me staring at the ceiling, confused about if I should ever bring it up or not."
"I—that's—" Frank is at a loss for words. Strange for someone who so often says too much. He gulps.
"It's okay if you didn't mean it at the time, Frank," she reaches over and grabs his hand. He still doesn't know what to say. Did he mean it? Had he actually loved her for months? He had always thought his heart raced around her because he associated her with an exciting case. "Anyway, I told Matt the story when we first started talking, because I didn't want to lead him on."
"So you weren't sleeping with him?" He glances over quickly at her.
"Oh, well, we made out a bit after our first date," she tightens her hold on his hand, "but that's it. We had a pretty lengthy talk about how our friends had been pushing us to date and how were definitelty better off as friends." Frank lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Good, that's good. Good to make new friends," his brain decides that's the best thing to say in the moment. Not like he can form a coherent sentence right now.
"We hung out more because he's pursuing a master's degree in behavioral therapy, did you know that?" He did not. "So we talked a lot about Becca and what it was like growing up. He's very sweet. But he's not you. Oh, Frank, you just passed my street."
"I'm taking you to mine, actually," he says, and then quickly adds, "if that's okay with you, of course. We don't have to do anything, we can just talk or watch a movie or—"
She interrupts him before he can spiral more, "I'd very much like to spend the night with you." He smiles at her, grabs their intertwined hands and kisses her fingers. "I'd actually very much like to not sleep or watch movies with you, Frank."
"Okay, me too," he kisses her hand again, and holds it to his nose, inhaling the scent of her lotion.
"Just to clarify, Frank. I mean that I would like to have sex with you tonight, if that is okay with you."
He does a double take so quick, he wouldn't be surprised if he wakes up with a crick in his neck. "Yeah, yeah that's more than okay with me, Mel."
Different songs. Different lives. Just press play.
A series of ~5k one-shots based on songs (or just specific lyrics).
Sneak peek at what’s to come!
6/30 — Somebody told Frank that Mel has a boyfriend that looks like a wife that he had in February of last year. AO3
7/? — Mel and Frank meet one summer while volunteering in Peru with Doctors Without Borders.
7/? — Reverse age gap Kingdon. Franks first day at PTMC he meets Stacy and Stacy’s hot attending mom.
7/? — There’s a power outage at The Pitt. Things get hot in more ways than one. (I’m ngl guys, this one’s gonna be just straight smut. I’m gonna test the boundaries of my digital footprint)
7/? — Academic rivals competing for a prestigious research grant.
This will most likely be a series I come back to add to over time because I have no self control.
Frank leaves really vague unsigned post-its in Mel’s locker. He thinks it’s encouraging but it’s freaking Mel out and everyone’s calling him the locker stalker.
Frank recognizes pretty early on in his friendship with Mel that she needs someone to take care of her. She's so preoccupied with her sisters mental, emotional, and physical needs, that she neglects herself.
He first took note of it when they were both on a 12-hour shift together and he realized he hadn't even seen her drink water. The second time was when she had slipped on miscellaneous bodily fluids and didn't so much as stop to get checked out. Later, he saw her gripping her wrist before going back to charting. But the last time he'd noticed, he'd gone to get his lunch from the fridge only to see the exact same Tupperware container she had placed there the day before. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen her eat anything in the past two days.
He knew she was stubborn, and wouldn't take to his meddling lightly, so he decides to leave her encouraging notes in her locker. All goes well for a few weeks. He notices Mel carrying around her water bottle, and she sits for lunch with Samira or Trinity. But he also notices she's been a little on edge lately. Every time he tries to talk to her, she's never alone. Actually, now that he thinks back on it, he realizes he hasn't seen her alone in the past two weeks. Before he can worry about it further, his phone pings with notification of an internal hospital email.
To: All Staff
This is a friendly reminder that while thoughtful gestures between colleagues are appreciated, employees are asked to refrain from placing anonymous notes, messages, or gifts inside another employee's locker or personal workspace.
Although well-intentioned, anonymous communications containing observations about a coworker's daily habits, whereabouts, physical condition, or routine may be perceived as inappropriate or unsettling without context.
If you wish to encourage or support a colleague, please identify yourself or communicate directly whenever possible.
Thank you for helping us maintain a respectful and comfortable workplace environment.
Human Resources
He stares at his phone, and rereads the email twice. Surely that's not about him, right? Mel would have said something…right?
Dana, who was standing at the hub in front of him reading the email, says "ugh, can you believe it? Poor Mel has been getting stalked the past two weeks. Ahmad has had to walk her to the bus station daily."
Frank gulps, "stalked?"
"Yeah, someone has been leaving vaguely threatening messages in her locker."
He stares at her, trying to think back on what he's been writing. "I'm gonna go find her, see if she's okay." He walks away quickly, as if Dana would be able to read his mind.
He finds Mel by the lockers with Trinity and Samira. "Hey guys," he walks up slowly to them. "Uh…Dana just told me about the threats you've been getting?" He looks directly at Mel.
"At first they were nice, I guess. Don't forget to eat, and drink more water!, but then I started getting ones telling me to go home or that they like my new scrubs." She says quickly, grabbing Samiras hand to ease her anxiety,
"It's okay Mel, we'll find out who the creep is," Trinity says matter-of-factly.
"Uh…actually," Frank rubs the back of his neck as he looks between the three women. "Mel, I'm so sorry, they were meant to be encouraging notes. I didn't think you'd find them threatening."
All three of them gape at him for a moment before Samiras speaks up, "what the hell was the go home note about?"
"She had a migraine and looked miserable!" He holds his hand up on defense.
"And telling her you like her scrubs?" Trinity crosses her arms as she glares at him, "creep."
"She had mentioned she just got new ones from that brand she likes," he grimaces, looking at Mel apologetically. "She was so excited about them, I just wanted to compliment her."
"Oh, Doctor Langdon, that's really sweet. Though I wish you would have just told me," she smiles up at him.
"Or at least sign your name next time," Samira rolls her eyes at him. She walks out followed by Trinity.
Mel smiles up at him and then giggles. "It really was sweet of you, I'm sorry I freaked out and reported it to HR."
"No, oh my God, please, if you ever feel threatened tell them. I'm sorry that I made you feel like that." He starts walking out of the lockers with her.
"Mmm, so what about the one that said your hair looks pretty?" She laughs at him over her shoulder when she notices he's stopped in his tracks.
Nothing makes you realize you’re in love with your best friend more than watching thousands of people online flirt with her.
Or, Doctor J posts a video of Mel at the Renaissance Festival and she becomes the internets girlfriend.
for Kingdon Week 2026 | Day 6: Fame and Glory
AO3 , 4.6K
"I got stabbed."
Mel looked up from the chart in her hands to find a man wearing an astonishingly well-made medieval tabard, leather vambraces, and knee-high boots. A red surcoat with an embroidered lion hung over chainmail that looked a little too convincing to be a costume.
She blinked once.
"...With a sword?" she asked, pulling on a pair of gloves as she guided him to lie back on the bed.
He looked mildly offended at her question. "Technically a halberd," his friend corrected from the chair in the corner. He was dressed just as elaborately, his outfit complete with a feathered cap.
Mel glanced between them. "Right."
She carefully began peeling back the blood-soaked fabric around the patient's side.
"Technically," Frank said as he stepped into the room, already snapping on his own gloves, "you're still bleeding."
"So are you guys LARPing or something?" She looks over at Frank and clarifies "that's live action role-playing."
"I guess you could say that," the injured man winces as Mel continues to peel back layers of fabric and Frank starts touching his skin. "We're performers at the Renaissance Festival, we were rehearsing one of our shows."
Frank looks up when he hears Mel gasp, her face immediately lighting up. "Oh! I love the Renaissance Festival," she turns to Frank. "My mom used to take Becca and I to pick out fabrics and she would help us sew our outfits. One year we even went three times! I haven't been in ages, though," her voice falls, and Frank knows her well enough at this point that he brings the conversation back to the patient before she can get too in her head thinking about her parents.
"When do you guys open? I'm sure some of us would love to check it out," he smiled at Mel as she passed him a pair of clothes shears.
Over the next three hours, the emergency department became the unofficial medical tent for the Pennsylvania Renaissance Festival. As it turns out, an escaped Falcon during a dress rehearsal caused a series of chain reactions that landed 12 people in the ER.
A knight arrived with a forearm laceration after discovering firsthand that stage combat became considerably less theatrical when someone missed their mark. A blacksmith presented with a nasty burn after grabbing a piece of decorative iron that had turned out to be much hotter than decorative. One poor soul somehow managed to get a section of chainmail pinched so thoroughly into a deep abrasion that it took Whitaker and Jesse nearly fifteen minutes to set him free with wire cutters.
"I cannot believe I'm documenting 'chainmail removal' in a medical chart," he muttered.
Mel, in the adjacent room, smiled without looking up from her sutures. "It'll make for a great story," she yelled out.
Then came the heat exhaustion. Four performers, one bard, two faeries, and what looked to be a man dressed as a baby. The commotion of the escaped falcon turned into a search party, in full costumes, in the middle of an already unusually hot summer.
"No jousting," Mel instructed firmly. The knight looked genuinely crestfallen.
"But my lady..." he looked between Mel and Perlah, hoping one of them would take his side. "The festival begins anon."
"Anon?" Perlah mutters, looking unsure.
"He means soon," Mel answers her, then turns her attention back to the knight. "No."
"My honor—" he begins to protest yet again.
"Your sodium is 127," Mel points out in his chart.
"...A grievous blow," he lowers his head, "but alas! I shall rest and put the lady at ease."
Frank, watching from the door, snorted loud enough that he had to pretend to cough.
The most memorable patient, however, refused to break character under any circumstances. Poor Lupe had never spent so long trying to get basic information from a patient before.
"Name?"
He looked her in the eye and said "Sir Alaric of Ashcombe, Knight of the Crown."
She squinted at him,"address?"
"The village of Ashcombe."
She sighed deeply, "emergency contact?"
"My squire."
She rubbed at her temple, looking completely defeated, "insurance?"
"...The king?"
Santos tried her luck when she met him in South 12. "I just need you to confirm your name and date of birth."
"My good physician," he placing a hand over his chest, "I answer only to Sir Alaric of Ashcombe, Defender of the Western Marches."
Santos stared at him. "...Cool." She clicked another box in the electronic chart. "And what is Sir Alaric's birthday?"
The knight narrowed his eyes, "on the fourth day of Harvest Moon."
Santos slowly looked over the computer monitor at him. "Jesus Christ."
By the time the last patient had been discharged, someone finally pieced together what can only be described as a Rube Goldberg or Final Destination-style series of events.
The escaped falcon, instead of returning to his handler, had flown directly through the middle of the tournament grounds, startling a horse that then tipped over a lance rack. The blacksmith abandoned his forge to help, leaving hot tools on the table. Whilst one actor dove to avoid being hit, he tripped over a hay bale that fell on a halberd that someone else attempted to catch by leaning over the table with the hot tools. Once feeling the burn, that person jumped back and kicked the table, dropping the hot tools that then burned through a stake that was holding up a load-bearing pole that trapped the other cast that had rushed in to help under a large tent.
"It was..." the manager paused, searching for the appropriate word, "...chaotic."
Robby placed his hands on his head, "it could have been a lot worse, but I'm glad it was all minor injuries."
The manager sighed. As he gathered the last of his paperwork, he looked around the department with a grateful smile. "I can't thank all of you enough. Let me see what I can do to repay the favor."
Mel waved him off with an easy smile. Frank watched her for a moment before glancing at Robby. "...How much do you want to bet we see at least three of them again before closing?"
"My money's on at least five," Robby huffed out a laugh.
The following Wednesday, just after the lunch rush and before the afternoon ambulance arrivals began trickling in, Dana wheels an enormous wicker basket into the department.
It was overflowing with handwritten thank-you cards placed gently between jars of local honey, homemade jams, beeswax candles, bags of kettle corn, bottles of mead, and enough fresh bread to feed the entire staff twice over. Tucked neatly into a velvet pouch at the front was a stack of envelopes each sealed with red wax.
"What is all this?" Robby asked, already reaching for the kettle corn.
"The Renaissance Festival," Dana replied. "The manager dropped it off himself, was very grateful, such a gentleman. And cute too, I gotta see if he's single…set him up with one of my girls."
Robby picked up the top envelope, that had a note from the manager.
To the remarkable staff of the Pitt, thank you for patching up our merry band of knights, nobles, and fools. As a small token of our appreciation, please enjoy complimentary admission for yourselves and your families any of our eight weekends. We promise to keep the sword-related injuries to a minimum.
Someone snorted. "Bold promise." A chorus of laughter rippled through the room.
Mel looked up from the chart she'd been finishing, "what?"
Dana waved one of the tickets dramatically, "free Ren Fest tickets."
Mels eyes widened, "oh! I love the Renaissance Festival!" she blurted, her excitement momentarily overpowering the carefully measured volume she usually kept at work. "I haven't been in years." She practically abandoned her workstation, "there is no way I'm missing this."
Mel, already reaching for one of the tickets, continued, “I'm going to need to head to the craft supply shop after work to start on my outfit." She turned the ticket over in her hands like it was made of gold. "Do you guys think finestrella sleeves would be too much?"
Frank looked up from the chart he'd been reviewing. Santos and McKay were looking at her like she'd grown an extra head. It's not the first time they don't understand her interests. It won't be the last, either.
"I'm sure whatever you choose will look great, Mel," he smiles at her. "Do you want me to drive you to the craft shop?
"That would be lovely, Doctor Langdon, thank you so much," she beamed at him. He hated that he could never get her to call him Frank at work. It was for the best, he supposed. Mel doesn't need any extra ribbing from Santos or Javadi.
His close friendship with Mel came as no surprise. Or, at least not to him. They have a lot in common. They mostly bond over TV shows and movie nights. Sometimes books, or puzzles, or wiki rabbit holes about obscure topics. Lately, they've been binging Planet Earth, though sometimes he has to switch over to a sitcom if there's an animal that's about to starve. Mel especially doesn't like the polar bear episodes. She'll get all quiet and eventually he starts to hear her soft sniffles, and if Friends isn't on the TV in under a minute, it's full sobbing. Those are, selfishly, his favorite nights. He'll ask her if she wants him to stay to keep her company, and she'll pretend like she doesn't want to inconvenience him, and then he'll usually say something like "it's no bother, Mel." And really, it's not. She's become his best friend in such a short period of time, and friends comfort each other, right?
Friends also give each other rides. So, asking her if she wants him to go with her to the craft shop is no big deal, "of course, I mean, I guess I'll have to get something too."
"Oh!" She gasps loudly, "I can make you something!" And she's so excited, he realizes, that he would let her put him in a tutu if it made her happy.
By the end of the shift, she had his measurements and a Pinterest board full of ideas.
Javadi walked in just in time to find Mel comparing shades of blue velvet on the craft shop website. Frank wandered past, coffee in hand, and glanced down at the sketches she had scattered across the table.
His eyes lingered for a moment. Then another. Finally, he picked up one of the reference images she had printed out. "The sleeve construction on this one's more accurate," he said, tapping the page. "And if you're doing a French hennin, the veil should probably sit a little farther back."
Mel blinked, "you know what a hennin is?"
Frank looked up. "...Yes?"
"Dr. Langdon, you know the difference between French and English hennins?" Her eyes lit up as she looked up at him. He could count every freckle in this lighting. He swallowed hard as he looked away. "...Also yes."
A slow grin spread across her face, "I had no idea you were a Renaissance nerd."
"I'm not."
Dana barked out a laugh from across the room, "didn't you volunteer at Fort Pitt after the reenactors showed up on the fourth?"
"That's eighteenth century," he said, incredulously. How could Dana even think they're remotely the same thing.
"It's still history,"she shrugged.
He scoffed and gaped at her, "it's completely different history."
Melissa laughed, shaking her head. "I'm happy you'll be just as excited as I am when we go," she began to say but suddenly cut herself off. "Not—not that we have to go together. I'm sure you'll want to take your children or, or other friends."
Frank took another sip of coffee, the corner of his mouth threatening to betray him. "I'd much rather go with you."
"We should make like a day out of it, see how many of us can go," Javadi spoke up from the breakroom couch. "It would give me great content for TikTok."
"I'll put it in the chat, " Dana announced. "And I fully expect to judge everyone's costumes accordingly."
It was the first Saturday in months that seemed to cooperate with everyone's schedules.
Not perfectly, of course. Hospitals didn't believe in perfect schedules.
Still, between day shift, night shift, and the handful of people lucky enough to be off entirely, they managed a decent sized group. Dana had appointed herself cruise director before they'd even parked. Whitaker had arrived in cargo shorts with no plan in dressing up (he would end up leaving with a replica Great Helm knight helmet). Ellis and Shen planned to eat the faire out of business. Mohan already had a map of the festival pulled up on her phone with a list of the stalls she wanted to shop at. Javadi had promised, under explicit threat from Robby, not to film anyone without asking.
No one believed her.
The parking lot was already filling by the time the group arrived. Beyond the entrance gates, the sounds of lutes and distant cheering drifted through the trees while performers in elaborate costumes wandered toward the festival grounds, coffee cups in hand, looking thoroughly unconcerned by the fact that they were dressed like Tudor nobility at nine-thirty in the morning.
Mel climbed out of Dana's SUV and stretched. "I'm going to change before we head in."
Dana looked at the garment bag slung over her shoulder "you didn't wear it here?"
Mel laughed, "have you ever tried sitting in a car for an hour wearing a corset?"
"Can't say I have, kid, no."
"And if I wrinkled the skirt after spending two weeks making it, I don’t think I would have made for very good company the rest of the day."
Trinity appeared beside her, carrying an equally overstuffed garment bag.
"I'm coming with you."
"You brought one too?" Whitaker asked. "I didn't even see you leave home with that."
She gave him a look. "I wasn't about to let Mel have all the fun. Besides, she helped me make a cool skirt to wear under my chainmail."
Dana pointed toward the row of port-a-potty's beside the main entrance. "I think that's the best you're gonna get."
Santos stared, sighed, and adjusted the garment bag over her shoulder before looking back at the group. "Give us...fifteen minutes?"
Robby snorted, "for clothes?"
Mel and Santos exchanged a glance. Then laughed. "No," Mel said. "For engineering. I have to solder Trinity into her outfit…that was a joke," she added when she realized they thought she was serious.
Inside the port-a-potty, Mel stood patiently while Santos cinched the final laces of her corset.
"A little tighter," Mel said as she put her hand on one of the walls.
"You've said that six times…and stop touching things in here."
"I know," she put her hands on her hips and took a deep breath. “I like the pressure, helps me feel grounded.”
"You also have to breathe."
"I can breathe later."
Santos laughed.
Mel adjusted the sleeves before reaching for the tall blue hennin resting carefully on stacked layers of toilet paper on a little ledge above the sink. It had taken nearly four evenings to finish. Another to figure out how on earth it was supposed to stay on her head. With practiced hands, she tucked the final pins into place before arranging the sheer veil so it cascaded down her back.
Trinity stepped beside her in front of the dirty mirror.
Her own gown was black, with a slit going up her leg, and a thin chainmail draped over her shoulders. A leather belt rested on her waist, that had a skirt hike and clip for a mug.
They looked at each other.
"You look hot, Melanoma. Who'da thunk?"
Mel smiled wide, "thanks Trinity! You look really beautiful too."
"Alright, let's go before they leave us."
Outside, Frank was halfway through explaining to Whitaker and Shen why the jousting saddles were based on historical tournament designs when the cottage door opened.
"...the forging techniques would've been completely different because modern steel behaves..."
Javadi wasn't listening anymore. She was scrolling through TikTok while half-paying attention. "Mhm."
"...and that's why historically accurate rivets actually..."
A voice floated over the crowd.
"Okay..."
Frank glanced up automatically.
Conversation around the group faltered. Dana's mouth fell open. Shen blinked. And Frank stopped mid-sentence.
Mel stepped into the morning sun in a light blue gown that seemed to catch the light with every movement. Frank had taken her to buy the fabric. Frank had sat on her couch while she sewed it. Frank had not been prepared for the way the corset fit. He was unaware she was so…well endowed, so used to her being in oversized hoodies at home. Her blonde hair had mostly disappeared beneath the blue hennin, but she had soft tendrils framing her face. Frank felt his mouth go dry.
For one suspended heartbeat, nobody spoke. Frank's eyes swept automatically over Mel's outfit. Then she smiled at something Santos whispered. No idea what that could be about, he was just appreciating the historical accuracy of his best friends outfit.
Javadi looked from Melissa to Frank and silently unlocked her phone.
"Victoria," Robby called out to her and shook his head when he caught her eye. She lowered her phone.
Frank, meanwhile, remained blissfully unaware that he'd been staring for nearly ten full seconds.
"Alright, let's get this show on the road, huh?" Dana clapped her hands and started walking towards the entrance.
The moment they stepped through the gates, the world changed.
Music drifted through the trees. They were greeted by a myriad of merchants. Dana and Mohan bought flower crowns almost immediately, whilst Robby and Whitaker made their way to the first drink stall and got mead. Frank slowed down to walk by Mel's side. "You look really nice, Mel."
"Thank you, Frank," she smiled up at him. He was about to compliment her again before they were interrupted by a woman selling dyed roses covered in glitter.
"A rose for thy fair maiden, good sir? Surely a lady so radiant deserves a blossom."
Frank stuttered out, "oh...uh…not my maiden we're just friends."
Mel pretended to be interested in the decoration around them. The woman looked at them both, sighed loudly, and spoke, "truly a tragedy! Fair-thee-well."
"Come on," she nudged him. "I see Shen and Ellis getting turkey legs and that's on my list of must-haves for today."
"It's ten a.m.," he looked at her incredulously, but follower her lead.
Blacksmiths hammered glowing iron against anvils while the smell of smoked turkey legs, cinnamon almonds, and wood fire hung heavy in the warm morning air. Knights wandered past in polished armor, children chased a tired looking fairy through the winding paths, and somewhere in the distance came the unmistakable sound of a cheering crowd watching the joust.
Javadi had, after asking everyone's permission (lest a disgruntled Robby catch her), filmed their activities. Shots of Mel and Whitaker eating turkey legs, Frank being heckled by the man he was throwing tomatoes at, Shen and Ellis rating snacks, Santos and Mohan getting their tarot cards read, Dana and Robby comparing swords at the weapons tent, and one very flattering shot of Mel shooting arrows.
By sunset, Mel had checked everything off her mental bucket list, Mohan purchased just about one of everything, Frank bought Tanner and Penny matching toy swords and crowns, Robby was in a good mood after all the mead he drank, Santos and Javadi got matching henna tattoos, and Dana had shown her daughters picture to the knights after the joust.
Santos walks in early on Monday, which itself should have already been a red flag, but she has a large smile as she heads over to Mel and Frank, and he is already bracing himself for whatever she's about to say.
"Have you guys seen the video Crash posted on TikTok?"
A chorus of groans answered her.
"Seeing as I don't have a TikTok, no, I haven't," he said, already feeling his interest in the conversation die.
"Sorry, Trinity, I only use mine for craft and recipe videos," Mel smiled warmly at her.
"I'm serious." Santos set her bag down on the counter, already pulling out her phone. "Two point nine million views."
Javadi looked up from her chart. "...Wait, what?"
"Your Renaissance Festival vlog."
"I posted that like... yesterday afternoon."
"I know."
Javadi frowned, fishing her phone out of her pocket, "no way."
Mel glanced over from her computer.
"What happened?"
Trinity turned the screen toward the group.
"It blew up."
Javadi's eyebrows shot up. "...I don't understand." She scrolled through the comments. Then blinked. "...Huh."
"What?"
She looked up slowly, trying to hide a smile, "none of the comments are talking about the festival."
Mel frowned, "what do you mean?"
"I mean..." Javadi turned the phone around. "Read."
Samira leaned in first. Her eyes scanned the top comment. Then the next. And the next. A grin spread slowly across her face. "Oh."
Mel took her turn to look at the phone. The first comment read who is the woman with the bow? Five hundred thousand likes.
She looks like she wandered out of a fantasy novel. Four hundred thousand.
I have watched the archery clip seventeen times and I am not ashamed. Three hundred and eighty thousand.
Mel kept scrolling. Every comment. Every stitched video. Every repost. Her. Not the festival, or the food. Just...Her. She looked up, completely bewildered. "...This is weird."
"Weird?" Santos laughed, "Mel, you've gone viral for being hot."
Frank's head shoots up at that, suddenly all of his interest in the conversation returning.
"I don't even remember her filming that," Mel muttered, still reading through the comments.
"That's probably why it looks so natural," Santos said.
Samira reached for the phone. "'Respectfully, I'd let her ruin my life," she paused. "'Disrespectfully, too.'"
Santos cackled, and Mel blushed a deep crimson.
"Oh, this one's my favorite." Santos continued. "'If she looked at me like that I'd immediately enlist in whatever kingdom she ruled.'"
Melissa covered her face. "Please stop reading them."
Frank, who hadn't moved from the computer beside them, finally spoke without looking up. "People are weird, Mel. Don't pay attention to them."
Santos' smile turned devious, "you haven't looked yet, have you?"
"I don't need to."
"You absolutely do."
"I really don't."
Samira held the phone out anyway. "C'mon. Just watch the clip."
Frank sighed, took the phone, and watched the video in silence.
Mel drew the bow. Released. Threw her head back and laughed. The veil caught the wind. He handed the phone back. "...It's a nice video."
Javadi narrowed her eyes. "That's all you've got?"
"What am I supposed to say?"
Javadi smirked. "The comments seem to have plenty of ideas."
Frank returned to his chart, perhaps a little too quickly. "They're strangers." He said it like it settled the matter.
It didn't escape anyone's notice that, fifteen minutes later, Frank was glued to his phone in the breakroom. The sound of Javadi's voice could be heard from his speaker, "come with me to the Pennsylvania Renaissance Festival!"
By Thursday, the novelty had worn off for everyone except the internet. The original video had crossed six million views. The slowed-down archery edit was nearing nine. Someone had made a compilation of every two-second clip Javadi had ever accidentally caught of Mel in the background of previous TikToks. Someone else had set it to orchestral music.
Mel found the whole thing somewhere between bewildering and mildly embarrassing.
Frank found it exhausting.
He'd managed to avoid downloading TikTok until Samira had shoved the phone in his face on Monday. Now the comments followed him everywhere. Whitaker reading them aloud in the break room. Yolanda quoting the funniest ones during lunch. Javadi announcing every new milestone like hospital census.
"Six million."
"Someone made fan art."
"This medieval clothing brand has offered her a brand deal."
Mel was halfway through a discharge when she noticed Frank walk away from the hub for the third time that afternoon. Someone had started reading another comment. He'd just...left. She watched him disappear through the ambulance bay doors. A minute later she saved her chart and followed him outside. She found him leaning against the concrete barrier, hands in his pockets, staring out toward the street.
"You know," she said as she came to stand beside him, "you've been weird all week."
"I've been busy."
"So have I." She waited. Frank had never responded well to being cornered. If she gave him enough silence, he'd usually fill it himself.
Eventually, he sighed. "I'm happy for you."
The sentence caught her off guard. "...Thank you? I don't know that I'm following you."
"I mean about the video. It's cool that you've gone viral."
"But?"
He looked away. "But I wish people would calm down."
Mel laughed softly "they'll find someone else by next week."
"That's not the point."
"No?"
"No." His jaw tightened. "They don't know you."
"They know a four-second clip of me shooting an arrow poorly."
"They think they know you."
She frowned. "So?"
"So..." He searched for the right words, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "They talk about you like you're...public property."
"They're just making jokes."
"I know."
"They're not serious."
"I know."
She tilted her head.
"Frank."
He exhaled through his nose.
"I don't like reading thousands of comments from people who think they have some claim to you because they watched a video."
She blinked.
He kept going before he could stop himself. "They're arguing over who gets to date you."
"I noticed."
"They're making edits."
"I've seen those too."
"They're calling you..." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "'Ren Faire Hottie'"
Mel laughed. "I kind of liked that one."
"I didn't."
She looked at him more carefully now. She realized this wasn't annoyance. It wasn't even protectiveness. "You've read an awful lot of comments."
"I wish I hadn't."
"But you did."
"I did."
She couldn't help the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, "which was your least favorite?"
Frank answered immediately. "The guy asking you to ruin his life."
"What about the one that said he'd let me stab him?" She giggled.
"...Really don't like that."
She laughed. "Frank..."
"And the guy who said he'd move to Pennsylvania."
"Oh, that one was funny."
"It wasn't."
For one long, terrible second, neither of them spoke. Then Mel's eyebrows climbed higher and higher. "Oh my God."
Frank closed his eyes. "You know what? I think I'd actually prefer we never had this conversation."
A grin spread slowly across her face, "you're jealous."
He didn't answer. She took another step closer. "Frank."
He looked at her, resigned. "I just don't like the way they look at you," he admitted quietly. "Or talk about you."
Her smile softened. "They don't matter."
"I know."
"They don't know me." She reaches out her hand to grab his.
"I know."
"They're just strangers." She intertwines their fingers.
"I know."
"So what is it?"
He laughed once, the sound equal parts fond and defeated. Squeezes her hand and turns to fully face her. "The problem," he said, meeting her eyes, "is that they all seem to have figured out something I was apparently the last person to notice."
Mel's heartbeat stumbled.
"And what's that?"
Frank held her gaze for a long moment. Then, almost too quietly to hear, he said, "I don't particularly enjoy the idea of anyone else thinking they have a chance with you."
Silence settled between them. Mel smiled up at him. "But they don't." She tugged him closer by the hand. "Are you gonna let me ruin your life?"
”It's almost a year now, and still, he's the only one that still tries with her. Everyone else is kind of like, "Oh, she's weird and talking to herself now." As opposed to like, "OK, let's talk." Up until that episode, every hour has been him being the guy that she remembers. I think just having someone who's willing to take it slow with Becca and not jump to any assumptions and just kind of do what he's been doing with Mel with Becca.” (x)
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