@kingdonmicrofic @kingdonmacrofic | 1240 words | Rated T | Read on ao3 | Previous installments here | Inspired by The Last Five Years "A Miracle Would Happen"- with a twist. This plot bunny refused to be contained to microfic form so here's a macrofic for you! <3
April 6, 2030 (Four months post-wedding)
Mel was plenty used to women flirting with Frank at work.
They flirted with him when he was married to Abby, they flirted with him when he was divorced, and they continued to flirt with him now that he’s married to Mel. The presence of either of his wedding bands hadn’t been a deterrent for the women of the Greater Pittsburgh Metropolitan Area.
It genuinely didn’t bother her. No really, it didn’t. (Mostly true, though it had— briefly— during the time between his divorce and their first date. She'd watched an endless stream of patients flirt with him almost daily and slowly prepared herself for the inevitable, when Frank would date someone else and wouldn’t need Mel anymore. How wrong she’d been.)
Most of the time, Mel didn’t give much thought to her appearance, mostly dressing for comfort and practicality. She spent all day dodging vomit, blood, and any number of other bodily fluids and projectiles—the most dressing up she did for work was adding simple earrings or a pair of fun socks.
However, in the early days of their romantic relationship, Mel worried she wasn’t enough for him. She’d only ever been called ‘cute’, never ‘beautiful’ or ‘gorgeous’. She’d spent her school days ignored by members of the opposite sex, with the exception of a boy asking her out in seventh grade as a prank and his entire friend group making fun of her after.
Mel started silently doubting his attraction to her despite strong evidence to the contrary. She’d kept this to herself though—men don’t like insecure women.
One time, they were on a lunch date at a deli near her apartment. Mel had gotten up for refills while Frank finished his corned beef sandwich, and the most gorgeous woman with a truly impressive set of breasts (Mel had eyes, okay?) gave him a slow once over, smiling and batting her eyes as she walked past him. Though he’d paid her no mind, Mel felt her stomach drop.
That night, during one of their steamy make outs, Frank’s body perfectly blanketing her own, her mind wandered back to those moments as he kissed down her neck. Feeling her tense beneath him, Frank stopped and braced up on his elbows to make sure she was okay. To her horror, Mel sniffled, a single tear escaping her eyelid.
He held her tightly as she let it all out, revealing her deepest insecurities to him—that he’d get bored of her eventually, how women looked at him and didn’t even notice she was there. How he looks like that but she’s just Mel. She even wondered if he considered her a downgrade from Abby in the looks department.
“Oh Mel, honey, no.” He kissed her so softly that it broke her heart a little. “The only woman in that deli I wanted was you. The only woman I want all the time is you. Lately, it’s pretty much all I think about. You’re it for me, Mel.” (He promptly showed her just how much he wanted her.)
(It hadn’t bothered her much after that.)
All that to say, she wasn’t surprised that it continued, heck, even increased, once his new ring took up residence on his finger. She knew her husband was attractive, but she also knew he was incredibly attracted to, and devoted to, her.
However, in a strange twist, something unexpected had started happening.
The first time was a week after they returned from their honeymoon. Mel entered North 2 to sign off on Dr. Campbell- R2’s treatment plan for one Colin McBeath, age 27, tall, fit, and covered in tattoos. Spotting her ring, he’d smirked and said that her husband was a lucky man, but he could probably do it better, if she’d like.
She told Frank about Colin’s shameless flirting as he drove them home after their shift. They both laughed it off and Frank kissed the back of her hand at the next red light. He wasn’t bothered—Mel was a big girl and an excellent doctor who could take care of herself. And if she couldn’t, she knew where to find him or Ahmad at a moment’s notice.
It happened again three shifts later, and this time Frank saw it for himself. This time it wasn’t the patient, but his son. Daniel Parkman, 35, was objectively handsome but in a sweet and nerdy kind of way. (Turns out, sweet he was not.)
Frank frowned and crossed his arms, but said nothing. He’d only step in if Mel needed him to. Luckily, they were interrupted by transport returning the elder Mr. Parkman to his room after an MRI, providing Mel with an easy escape before she turned the patient over to Shen at shift change.
It happened again the following shift, then again two shifts after that. Once it happened three times in one night, when Mel covered for Abbot in early February. Sometimes Frank saw it, but he mostly just heard about it after the fact.
He’d seen Mel get flirted with here and there, but now it was becoming constant. Last shift, Frank asked her how the heck she’d put up with watching women flirt with him all this time and she simply shrugged and said bluntly, “I know you’re coming home to me, so it’s fine.”
Frank wasn’t confused as to why it was happening—his wife was brilliant, beautiful, and kind. Men should be falling over themselves to flirt with her. He was mostly curious as to why the sudden and noticeable uptick. He got flirted with plenty, ring or no ring.
Wait, that was it. This all started after Mel began wearing her mother’s gold wedding band at work. She usually only wore her engagement ring at home, too nervous about knocking the diamond out of the setting or losing it inside a patient.
It was like adding a ring had made her more attractive, more visible. Like another man finding her desirable and claiming her suddenly made her more valuable in their eyes. It honestly pissed him off a little.
Frank shared his theory and findings with Mel over a quick lunch in the breakroom on their next shift together.
“Frank, would you prefer I don’t wear my wedding band at work? I wouldn’t mind less attention, and I wouldn’t want you to get…” She trails off, biting her lips in an effort to keep her thoughts inside.
Frank raises an eyebrow at her. “What? What were you going to say, Dr. King?”
“Nothing, don’t worry about it.”
“Tell me, Mel." He turned on that voice, the one he knows gets her going. "Were you going to say you didn’t want me to get jealous?”
She blushed, playfully refusing to meet his gaze.
He chuckled, getting up from his chair and kissing the top of her head on his way to throw out their trash. “Don’t stop wearing your ring unless you want to, sweetheart. If you think it’ll help patients flirt with you less, that’s entirely your decision to make. However,” he pauses, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “I like when you wear it. Shows everyone you’re mine, that it’s me you come home to.”
He straightens up, winking as he heads back out onto the floor, leaving her flustered and winding her up for later.
Frank Langdon wasn’t a jealous man, not anymore. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do what was needed to make sure Mel kept coming home to him, just as he’d always come home to her.
