Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Mel King did not know what was going on with her laptop. She picked it up and looked underneath like it would have the answer, but found nothing. The thing was ancient. Back when she’d finally caved and purchased it, she’d made sure it had two qualities: 1.) She could write, edit, and read papers on it 2.) She could play The Sims on it. It was all she needed.

Mel loved The Sims. It’d been her sole escape at times during college and med school, especially after she and Becca lost their mother. Mel spent so much of her time fretting over Becca that she had little energy left most days for anything other than telling her Sims to go for a jog, go to work, and take care of their babies.

She wouldn’t be able to play the game if she couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her laptop. A few days before, Samira Mohan asked Mel for feedback on a paper she’d been working on with a friend’s lab, and Mel promised to get notes back to her by the end of the week. She could not let down Samira. The girl was wound more tightly than Mel these days. 

Mel tapped the keys on her laptop for the fourth time and groaned, then slapped the thing on the table and threw her head back in frustration. “Work, you stupid thing!” She slapped it again for good measure.

“That’ll show it.”

Mel looked up to find Dr. Frank Langdon standing over her, an amused expression over his face. Her face flushed hot and she looked down at the laptop. Of course he would see that.

“Do you know anything about computers?” Mel asked, annoyed. “I can’t get this stupid thing to work. I’m trying to help Samira with her paper.”

Langdon tapped the computer. “When do you need it by?”

“I told her I’d have feedback at the end of the week. Maybe I should just go to the library…” Mel grimaced at the thought of the public library. The last time she went, someone left multiple piles of human feces in the stacks. She didn’t feel like revisiting the stench.

“I can take a look for you,” Langdon said. “I’m not bad with computers.”

Mel’s face brightened. “Yeah? Thank you! That would be so nice of you. Here, take it.” She handed over the charger with the laptop and slid from her chair.

“I’ll bring it back for you tomorrow. You’re on tomorrow, right?”

Mel nodded. “Ah, you’re the best! Seriously, thank you. Here, the PIN is 23222.” She would be able to help Samira out, and that’s all Mel wanted – to be a good, reliable friend for someone she admired. Samira didn’t necessarily get Mel, and she still struggled to keep up with the way her brain worked, but at least she didn’t look over Mel’s head for someone else to talk to every time. She thanked Langdon two more times before leaving for home.

Chapter Text

Frank Langdon didn’t know shit about computers.

But he did know that Mel needed help. He’d just pay the kid down the street $20 like he did when Abby’s laptop gave up, and then he could hand it back to Mel and see that grin on her face. 

He spent an inordinate amount of time figuring out ways to see that grin.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” the kid said later that evening. “It just needed to be rebooted and updated.” Even though there was “nothing wrong with it” the kid still expected the $20. Whatever, it was a small price to pay to save a damsel in distress. He handed off the $20 and slipped back home to his family. In the doorway of their small townhome, he slipped off his shoes and took a deep breath before sliding into the loving husband and father role.

“Did you get a new laptop?”

Frank glanced up to see his wife, Abby, wiping her hands on a dishtowel as she cooked dinner. The smell of butter, onions, and garlic wafted through the air. He held the laptop by his side, halfway hiding it from view.

“Just helping a friend out with something,” he said as he gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Still trying to earn points with everyone.”

Abby tsk’d as she motioned him over for a kiss. “You don’t have to do things for people to get them to like you. They just need more time.”

If only she knew. He’d gotten good at shielding her from the details of his day-to-day struggle to get back into the swing of things at work. He was back to feeling more like himself when it came to his patients, but still struggled with his colleagues. It was one of the reasons he wanted to see Mel smile so badly. She was one of the only people who didn’t need him to perform a months-long song and dance.  

Frank spent the remaining time before dinner with his kids in the living room, catching up with everything he’d missed in their days. It was the one thing he sorely missed when he went back to work – getting to spend the day with them. 

After dinner, reading time, then bedtime for the kids, Frank slipped into the living room to make sure that the laptop was actually in working condition before he sent himself off to sleep. Abby would be asleep by the time he got there. She always was.

He typed 23222 into the keypad and brought the machine to life. Everything seemed fine to him. Then again, he knew shit about computers, so he wasn’t sure what to look for. After it finished booting, he opened Samira’s paper and scrolled through it without reading. As he hit the ‘X’ to close it, he caught a window showing The Sims. 

His sister used to hole up in her room and make videos for hours of her Sims. He used to add characters to her game just to see her reaction when they inevitably ruined whatever story she was trying to tell that week.

Ten minutes later, the game loaded and Frank opened Mel’s last used save. He would add a random character to it just like he did for his sister and see if she ever noticed. He looked through the households in the file and paused when he scrolled to a familiar-looking one. Dark hair. Blue eyes. A cocky smile. Named Frank Langdon.

He looked around like he was about to get caught doing something he shouldn’t. When he opened the character, he laughed at the traits she’d assigned. Self-Assured. Competitive. Jealous? When had he ever given her that impression?

When his Sims counterpart household loaded, he played around with it for a little while before finding the Sim Frank Langdon doing random push-ups. He poked around at the little tabs showing the Sim’s career – a Medical Assistant – needs, and then the relationships. He half expected to see iterations of his own family there, but paused when he saw the Sim Queen Mel instead. Their friendship was ¾ of the way full, and romance was ¼. 

He should close out the game and never speak of it to anyone. Mel’s head would explode if she knew he’d seen any of this. This was invasive. 

And yet… he still wanted to do something to the game to make her laugh the next time she opened it. There had to be something. He pulled out his phone and looked up funny things to do to Sims, and then scrolled long enough that he found suggestions for add-ons to the game, including something called WickedWhims.

Oh. Is that what his sister was doing all that time? He cringed at the idea. 

Okay, no, he shouldn’t. That was a little too far. He couldn’t download add-ons to her game. Especially not ones that made the Sims do things like that. 

He slowly shut the laptop, but stopped himself halfway.

Maybe she didn’t even play the game anymore and she’d never find out.

Chapter Text

A week after she sent notes to Samira, Mel pulled out her laptop. She finally had the time to herself to relax and play The Sims for a while. It’d been a while.

She turned on one of her favorite Podcasts and slipped into her pajamas, grabbed a handful of M&Ms, and curled up on her couch as her laptop took its sweet time loading the game. She got distracted by the window on the other side of her apartment blowing cold air through the place, and once she loaded her default household, Queen Mel The Gardener, she got up to close it. 

As she settled back into the couch, she started making her Sim do morning gardening chores to make the money she’d need to build more of a house. As the Sim bent, collecting the crops from the morning, a guest appeared at the door. Frank Langdon.

She laughed to herself. She’d added Frank to the game a while ago when she added a handful of others from PTMC. Samira Mohan and Jack Abbot’s household were friends with Queen Mel. Trinity Santos and Dennis Whitaker were townies. She’d added Robby to the game as well, but he died from a kitchen fire when he failed at making grilled cheese. 

Mel watched as Sim Frank did push-ups and then kissed Queen Mel.

Wait. When did their romance level get high enough for that?

But she was surprised to find the friendship level at 100, and the romance… also at 100? She thought she’d turned off the autonomy on the game. She liked being able to tell them what to do. When she clicked around to investigate, she found a new menu she didn’t recognize. She had downloaded a bunch of mods the last time she played, she just thought they were all hair and clothes. She didn’t think she’d added any gameplay mo-

Queen Mel and Frank Langdon are having sex!

What!? She pushed the laptop away from her and sat up, looking around despite the fact that she lived alone. What was happening?! She watched with her hands over her mouth as Sim Frank led Queen Mel to the kitchen and ohmygodwhataretheyDOING?

At least they looked like they were having fun.

Mel absolutely did not install this mod. She knew about it, of course. Everyone who played the game did. But that’s not how she liked to play the game.

On screen, Sim Mel was very passionately kissing Sim Frank in the kitchen. A few seconds later, the animation switched to Sim Mel giving Sim Frank a blowjob while he leaned against the kitchen counter.

Mel flushed as she watched. How did this happen? She didn’t install this thing, so how did it get on her computer? She gnawed at her lip while the animation switched again, and Sim Frank started fucking Sim Mel against the counter. The only other way it could have gotten on her computer is if someone else put it there. But how? She lived alone, and Becca didn’t like The Sims, so she never played it. Mel was the only one who used her laptop. 

Except.

Mel’s mouth hung open as the animation switched to Sim Frank pulling Sim Mel’s hair as he fucked her harder against the counter.

No way.

Mel’s brain short circuited. She grabbed her phone and hesitated for just a second before typing.

MEL KING: YOU DID THIS?
FRANK LANGDON: Probably
FRANK LANGDON: But what this time?

Mel sent him a picture of her laptop screen. 

MEL KING: THIS. YOU DID THIS.
FRANK LANGDON: Well don’t they look like they’re having fun?
MEL KING: OMG
FRANK LANGDON: 😇
MEL KING: THEY WON’T STOP.
FRANK LANGDON: Don’t make them stop!

Queen Mel may be pregnant! 

Mel yelled into her closed fists and scrambled off her couch, pushing the laptop away from her. No, no. Queen Mel could absolutely not be pregnant. She still had to get to the top of the gardening career and she had to write 5 books and she hadn’t even –

FRANK LANGDON: Btw
FRANK LANGDON: Jealous?

Mel closed out the conversation. She was feeling a little too seen. She sent Sim Frank home and made Queen Mel get back to work in the garden. There were more crops to be pulled, and the kitchen counter fucking had set her back by over an hour in-game.

But when she got up to go grab a handful of peanuts from her kitchen cabinet and came back, Queen Mel and Sim Frank were going at it again, this time at least in the bedroom. Mel pressed her lips together and watched as Sim Frank put a hand over Queen Mel’s mouth as he fingered her. 

How many of these positions were there? 

She glanced around her otherwise empty apartment again, convinced someone would pop out from behind the drapes and catch her. But, no. She was alone. She had time. She could find out.

Chapter Text

“Dr. Langdon? Do you have a minute?”

Frank Langdon glanced up from the screen to see Mel King twisting her lips into a contemplative pout. He had to stop himself from tapping her on the tip of her nose whenever she did that. 

“Can you take a look at this?” Mel motioned for the med student, Rico Ortiz, next to her to hand over a tablet. “We’re running out of questions.”

Frank slid back and took the tablet, then followed Mel and Rico off to the 17-year-old who passed out and split her face open after slamming it on the counter working at Wendy’s. 

"Looks like she hit her face,” Langdon said, nodding at the girl. “Most likely hard.”

Annoyance passed over Rico’s face. “That’s not what–”

Mel glanced at Rico and shook her head slightly. “Don’t encourage him.”

Langdon talked over the case with them and pointed them in a new direction, sending Rico off to order a handful of other tests. He watched Mel reassure the girl for the third time and stepped behind her on the way out of the patient’s room. He loved watching the gentle gestures and soft tone she used, especially with the younger patients. 

“Thanks,” Mel said, glancing up at him quickly and then away. “She’s scared. Her parents won’t be in for a few more hours.”

“What else you got, Queen Mel?” he asked, ignoring the fact that he had a growing list of patients to follow up with.

Mel’s face flushed pink, and she looked off into the ER. “Oh, um, I’m waiting on test results. I should actually be–”

“Something on your mind?” he asked, bowing his head closer. Her eyes remained locked on some fixed point off in the distance. He dropped his voice. “Have you watered your crops today?” 

Mel finally looked at him. Her eyes met his for a fraction of a second before they flitted to his mouth and back. She couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a moment before the pink deepened across her cheeks. When she finally opened her mouth like she was about to say something, she shook her head and cleared her throat instead. “No, Dr. Langdon. I haven’t watered my crops yet.”

“Why are you two talking about watering crops?” Samira Mohan gave Mel a strange look. “I thought Whitaker was the stable boy.”

“It’s just a little joke. Right, Mel?”

Mel wouldn’t look up at him. She twisted her stethoscope in her hands and nodded “Mmhm. Just a joke.”

Samira looked at them both again and made a face. “I never get what you two are talking about.”

“Queen Mel’s a tough one to crack,” Langdon said. “Her mind goes to some surprising places.”

Mel swallowed and shook her head, turning away from Langdon and Samira. A quiet, nervous laugh bubbled up from her lips. 

“Queen Mel?” Samira asked. “Okay, whatever. You two are weird.” She left with a halfway disgusted look on her face. Mel took the opportunity to chase after Samira, but not before looking behind her at Langdon and flattening her mouth into a straight line, cheeks plump. 

She spent the rest of the day cautiously avoiding him, or when that was impossible due to patient care, at least avoiding meeting his eyes for too long. He was used to knowing where she was most of the time. By the end of his shift, he thought she might be using that same knowledge of him to avoid crossing paths

That was okay. He liked a challenge, and the way her cheeks looked with a splash of pink across them. It was cute. Harmless.

When he finally caught her on her way out of the hospital with her ancient backpack hoisted over her shoulders, he took his chance. He stepped in front of her and just slightly too close for a moment, like dodging someone walking by. Mel's head snapped up. He stepped back and crossed his arms.

“Hey. How was your day?” he asked. “I barely saw you.”

Mel looked at him. Finally. “It wasn't bad,” she said. “I get to have Becca at home for once.” A wash of pink spread across her cheeks as she looked away.

“Oh, that's great.” He dragged out the words to get her attention again. “You two getting along again?”

“It's going kind of slow. But I think we’re making progress.” Mel slid her right thumb into the palm of her left hand. “Um. You?” 

He caught her gaze and held it that time as he told her. Her eyes were so soft. The pink deepened across her cheeks as her eyes flitted to his lips and back. Twice. Three times.

“So what are you two doing tonight?” Langdon asked. “Big plans?”

“The biggest,” Mel laughed, nearly squeaking. “But I’ve got to get over there or she’s going to get mad at me for being late.”

“I’ll walk with you for a bit,” Langdon said. “I’ve got time.”

In reality, he should’ve left thirty minutes ago. He owed Abby a night off from the kids, and it was supposed to start soon. But he could make it work. She wouldn’t be upset about ten more minutes. She’d understand. She always understood.

“Is something on your mind?” Mel asked as they left the hospital.

“No, you just seem… distracted today.”

Mel glanced at him sidelong. “I might have a few things on my mind.”

“Yeah? Anything you want to talk about?” he asked. “You know you can tell me anything.”

While he had her attention, the pink flush returned to her cheeks and she looked away again. A bashful smile crossed her lips for just a moment before she flattened it. What was going on?

One of the best things about Mel was the way he never had to question where he stood with her. He wasn’t oblivious. She liked him. He wouldn’t pretend he didn’t like the attention. You always knew where you stood with her. That was the thing so many people missed out on with her. They were too busy feeling self-conscious about how earnest she was they ignored the person. By this time, they’d spent enough time side-by-side he figured the interest would have fizzled as she actually got to know him. Everyone always told him that he was best in small doses.  

He was still learning how to be a better version of himself while holding his spark close to his chest. His addiction took a lot from him, but he would not let go of that spark.

“Are you sure it’s not you that needs to talk about something?” Mel countered. “You seem like there’s something you want to say.”

“Nah,” he said. “I’m just in my head today. I should get home.”

The pink flush merged with confusion across Mel’s face, but she smiled. “Have a nice night, Dr. Langdon.”

He watched her cross the street, but before she ducked around the corner, he yelled, “Don’t forget to water your crops!”

Chapter Text

Mel King had a problem.

She could not stop seeing Sim Frank and Sim Mel in all 183 of the animations that she’d watched so far.

It was becoming an issue. 

Especially when he did things like physically insert himself in her way with his arms crossed, looking down at her with those stupid blue eyes. Especially when he kept finding ways to get her to look into them. Especially when she felt his eyes on her every time she entered a room. 

When he followed her out of the hospital, she worried she wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face if he looked at her for too long. 

It was his fault in the first place. 

Mel collected Becca from Middle Hill and brought her home, promising for the third time that they would order a pizza. Becca stayed over less and less often, which Mel still struggled with. She tried to make every instance comfortable and fun for Becca so she’d want to come back, but Becca had a whole life outside of Mel. It still took some getting used to.

Mel picked The Princess Bride since it was one they both liked, but Becca insisted they watch Frozen instead. She didn't mind. She pulled out her phone to look through new library releases while the movie played. Becca would get annoyed with her for not watching, but Mel had seen Frozen enough times to recount what was happening on the screen without looking. 

Halfway through the movie, a notification pinged across her screen.

FRANK LANGDON: Did you water your crops yet?
MEL KING: Not until Becca goes to sleep.
FRANK LANGDON: Why’s Queen Mel a gardener?
MEL KING: It’s the fastest way to make money.
FRANK LANGDON: What is she the Queen of if she doesn’t have any money?

Mel stifled a laugh, trying not to distract Becca from the movie. Everyone knew the fastest way to make money in the game was to collect crops from the maps and plant them in the Sim’s garden. Queen Mel was the 5th or 6th iteration she’d gone through, each one starting at $0. She didn’t always give them the easy way out with gardening. Sometimes she made them work for it.

When the movie finished, Mel and Becca chatted while Becca got ready for bed. Mel missed her sister sometimes even when talking to her. It made no logical sense, but not everything had to. They would never be 12 years old together again, shoulder to shoulder in a twin-sized bed when Becca had a nightmare during a thunderstorm. Next time she came over, they’d have to build a fort. 

Once Becca slept soundly, Mel crept to her laptop and pulled it out, waiting the eternity it took for her game to load. She’d downloaded a new pack of animations the night before and needed to see what the other 75 had. 

Mel’s mind had been blown as she went through the animations in the game. There were so many different positions and scenarios. She didn’t know how people even managed to come up with some of the things she’d seen.

It wasn’t always Sim Frank and Queen Mel. Sim Samira and Sim Abbott had a habit of going at it whenever they were anywhere on the active lot, too. She liked watching the strange pre-sex foreplay some of the animations came with, like two people studying on a bed, or her favorite, the ones that started with two people on a couch. 

Maybe it was because the few times she’d had sex, she didn’t get the luxury of the cute moments that led up to the main event. Her boyfriend at the time just wanted a physical release, and she felt awkward about trying to slow it down. That’d been years ago in undergrad. Once her mom passed, there hadn’t been enough time to get to know anyone long enough to get there with them. 

Her phone chirped again, and Mel knew before she picked it up that it was Langdon bugging her about her crops again. She sent Queen Mel outside to run through her morning errands in sleep outfit #4 and took a picture. Sim Frank kept following Queen Mel out into the garden and distracting her with chatter and pranks.

FRANK LANGDON: I won’t be able to sleep until I know those crops have been watered
MEL KING: She’s going as fast as she can but this keeps happening.

She took a picture of Sim Frank tricking Queen Mel with the hand buzzer, then another of him standing while Queen Mel crouched to pick the crops, yapping away. In the time it took for her to crop the photos, Sim Frank and Queen Mel started going at it again. She took another picture, then hesitated. Was this going too far?

Well, he started it. She sent all three photos and set her phone down. Queen Mel needed to get to work writing her 3rd Children’s Book. Sim Frank would have to go home and stop bugging her. After they finished, of course. It would be rude to interrupt.

FRANK LANGDON: How many different ways are there?
MEL KING: So far I’ve watched over 183
FRANK LANGDON: 183!?!?
FRANK LANGDON: Wait
FRANK LANGDON: You’ve watched 183 times?
MEL KING: I had to know how many there were.
MEL KING: I was curious.
FRANK LANGDON: That is a very Mel thing to say. “I’ve watched my sims fucking 183 times for science.”

Mel laughed and set her phone down, then got back to tending to Queen Mel. She had to fit in as much fertilizing and watering as she could before 184, 185, and 186.

Chapter Text

Frank Langdon was walking a very thin line. He completely understood that.

But he had always been quick on his feet, and he’d make it across before his body had time to register any danger. Besides, it was harmless. Abby gave him curious looks when he picked up his phone and laughed, but he’d always reassure her that it was just someone from work sending stupid memes. It wasn’t that far from the truth. She never asked to see them, most likely from years of him showing her the dumbest things possible.

The thing was, once they worked another shift together, he realized why Mel couldn’t look him in the eye. And really, what was he supposed to do with that? Just let it go? He couldn’t. She’d watched Sim Frank and Queen Mel getting it on close to two hundred times and now she couldn’t look at him without thinking about it.

Besides, all he did at first was remind her to water her crops every morning they worked together. It kept driving Samira and Dana up the wall because they had no idea what it meant. But every time, Mel would laugh and point a finger gun at him while blushing. She never could come up with something to respond with, even if she knew it was coming every morning. You could see the gears turning and her almost getting there. He loved it.

And, sure, it escalated. She started bringing him random vegetables. She handed him an eggplant. In front of everyone. Well, not everyone. Mostly Donnie and Perlah. What are you supposed to do when your colleague starts bringing you potatoes? They needed to eat more vegetables at home anyway. 

If there was a line he crossed, it might have been when she was pouting in the ambulance bay after getting into a spat with Robby. He’d watched as Mel walked off in a huff, glanced at Robby’s impassive look, and followed her after giving her a minute. 

“Mel, you okay?” he asked when he popped his head out the door.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I just needed… some air.”

“He’s been extra testy today,” he said. “Don’t take it personally.”

Mel twisted her mouth. “It’s hard not to when he says ‘Mel, you’re better than this’ in that voice.”

Langdon grimaced. “Ouch, yeah, that’s rough. What was he talking about? What happened?”

Mel gripped her hands together awkwardly. “Dr. Bennett came down to talk to one of my patients. He was kind of hitting on me, and I might have, uhh, spent a little too long talking to him. But it was because he said he had a horse when he was younger, and I’ve always liked horses.”

Hitting on her? A prickling cold washed over him. He knew Nat Bennett. He worked a few floors up in Internal Medicine. Medium height, athletic build. He thought Nat was married. Then again, he couldn’t remember the last time he actually talked to the guy for more than a few minutes. But what was Nat Bennett doing hitting on Mel?

“You know how Admin’s always breathing down his neck about time,” he said. “So what was Bennett doing?”

“Oh, he always touches the end of my braid and tells me it looks very even,” Mel said with an almost smug look. “And he always had something to say about my undershirt.” She pressed her lips together with a big grin.

Touching. Her Braid. 

“He gave me his number,” Mel said quietly. “I was just happy about that, and Robby just… I know he’s right, I can't get distracted. But still.”

Sandpaper in his throat, Langdon scrambled for something to say or do. Nat Bennett touched her braid and gave her his number. And why shouldn’t he? Mel was a pretty, smart, kind, sweet, ambitious woman. Nat Bennett had to at least be a somewhat decent person. 

It made perfect sense for him to put his arm around her and quickly hug her to his side at that moment. He’d touched her countless times before. This one wasn’t that different. He liked her little pout, but he loved the warm smile that spread across her face even more. When he looked down to meet her eyes, her cheeks flushed and a giddy laugh escaped her throat. 

“Don’t let Robby rain on Mel’s parade,” he said. 

“At least it’ll water my crops,” Mel said, cracking herself up. She patted his chest. “Okay, the last thing I need is him coming to complain that I’m talking to you too much now.”

Robby had, of course, already had that talk with both of them. But it had at least been a while.

“Thank you,” Mel said. “You’re the best.”

He knew that, but it didn’t hurt to hear from her. He watched her leave, still feeling a little like he was scrambling up a wall. 

Nat Bennett. Sure. Okay.

Chapter Text

FRANK LANGDON: Did you end up calling Bennett?
MEL KING: Yes. We’re getting dinner soon
FRANK LANGDON: Cool
MEL KING: Speaking of good jobs, this one was especially interesting. In the beginning of the animation, both start with clothes on. But it advances to one not wearing a shirt. Then a shirt reappears. Is that a thing? Do people put their clothes back on in the middle of that?

Mel attached a series of screenshots of the scene unfolding. 

FRANK LANGDON: I can't say I've ever done that
MEL KING: See, I didn't think so. But I like the overall story arc going on. You're like “I must have you here against this bookshelf,” and I’m like “Yes but first I need a random glass of wine to appear in my hand”
FRANK LANGDON: Go on
MEL KING: So I drink the wine, and we immediately advance to the next animation. It's tagged as teasing. It involves you kissing me with your hand on my throat and my head against the bookshelf, which I have to say sounds extremely painful. Because then my head gets pushed down until I’m on my knees. Altogether, not a bad one
FRANK LANGDON: How many does that make?
MEL KING: 221

If you'd asked Mel, she'd have admitted that things started to get out of hand after she started seeing Nat Bennett. It was a confusing time for a number of reasons. 

Nat Bennett wasn't the problem, though. If anything, he was the perfect willing victim.

It started the morning she showed one of the new med students how to practice sutures on oranges. She tried to give him a high five when he finished trying a great knot, but he gave her a strange look and glanced at Nurse Jesse. Mel was used to this. 

She figured that by this point, two people must have fallen in love when their eyes met in exasperation over the top of her head. Or at least some very good friends. 

When she entered the ER again, she needed a break from the noise. She popped her earbuds in for a few minutes before Langdon swooped in and plucked one from her ear, then walked away while placing it in his. She had a feeling he'd do that some day and regret it, but today’s audio was a set of window fans blowing in different directions. It scratched a brain itch like few things could.

He found her later breathing fresh air in the ambulance bay, and handed back her earbud. 

“I can't believe you're listening to Only Fans at work,” he said.

Mel shook her head. “No, no, that wasn't Only Fans! It was just… fans.”

He smiled, pleased with himself. Mel’s face was constantly on fire around him. Especially once he started going out of his way to find reasons to touch her. Well, it was a hand behind the small of her back. Which became her hands on his arms. Which turned into his pinky grazing hers, but that could have just been in her head. 

It was harmless. If at any point Mel thought they were doing something wrong she would have stopped.

But in the ambulance bay, he kept her gaze for long enough that she thought she might actually be paralyzed. She felt like a rabbit spotted on someone’s lawn.

“Nat invited me to the hospital fundraiser," she said after the longest moment known to mankind. “I don’t think I’ve been to something like that before.” She cleared her throat. “It sounds, um, maybe it’ll be fun.”

She didn’t know how to read the look on his face. He had this way of looking at her that made words just bubble up from her chest and spill out like lava. If she kept talking, he’d keep looking.

“So you and Nat are getting along?” Langdon asked, furrowing his brow. “He’s a nice guy?”

Mel nodded with enthusiasm. “He’s great.”

What she wasn’t going to say was that she and Nat spent most of their time together doing one very specific thing. She had to find out how many of those animations were remotely physically possible between two average people. When she explained the project to Nat, he had no complaints. 

It had taken some explaining when she showed him what she was talking about, and she loaded her game to show him Sim Frank and Queen Mel. If he thought it was strange, he at least had the decency to keep it to himself. 

“As long as he’s good to you,” Langdon said. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and brought her close to him again. She inhaled the warm scent of him and smiled to herself. His hand slipped around her head to tuck in a few errant pieces of hair behind her ear. It sent a thrill through her, tingling down her neck and into her chest before he let go of her.

A moment later, Nat Bennett popped his head outside. “Hey! There you are!”

“Nat! Hi!” Mel beamed at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Nurse Evans said you two might be out here.” Nat gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I wanted to make sure we’re still on for later.”

Mel nodded with enthusiasm. “Yes, of course. We were just talking about you.” She motioned to herself and Langdon. 

“Ahh, Dr. Langdon, nice to see you again.” Nat greeted him politely and put his arm around Mel, stopping to touch the bottom of her braid. “Perfectly even as always.”

Mel laughed. “I know for a fact that isn’t true. But thank you.” She glanced over at Langdon. What was that look on his face? He was staring at Nat. Not with any decipherable expression. Just staring. Specifically at Nat’s hand draped over Mel’s shoulder.

Mel looked up at Nat. “I should get back. Night shift’s going to start trickling in soon. I want to talk to Dr. Ellis. See you later?” She tilted her head towards him for a kiss, and he met her lips for a quick peck. 

Yes, that was definitely when it started to get out of hand. When her eyes fluttered open to see Langdon looking at them. It was the tiniest furrow of his brow. The twitch of his lips. That’s what’d done it. And when she pulled Nat in for a second, longer kiss, the resulting thick swallow and ever-so-slightly narrowed eyes sent another thrill down her spine. 

One she liked.

Chapter Text

MEL KING: This one has me stumped. #226. It starts with kissing up against a wall. That seems normal. But then Sim Frank is covering Queen Mel’s mouth and looking around. And suddenly Queen Mel’s pants are off, and Sim Frank’s other hand is involved. He’s covering her mouth still. But they’re in Queen Mel’s house. What is he afraid is going to happen?
FRANK LANGDON: Try doing that one outside of Queen Mel’s house.
FRANK LANGDON: It’ll make more sense that way.

“This isn’t too much?” Abby asked, twirling in a little black dress before her husband. Her red hair twirled with her, curls flaring as she spun and landing with perfect drape around her shoulders.

“No, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.” Frank pulled his wife to him and kissed her, twirling her again for good measure. She looked beautiful. 

“Remind me why we’re going to this?” Abby asked while she slipped on a gold bracelet he’d bought for her years ago. “Robby’s making you? Here, wear this jacket.” She handed him a jacket that fit just slightly too large over his frame.

“He said we needed to show more institutional support.” Frank rolled his eyes. “I think he just didn’t want to be repping the ED on his own.” 

It wasn’t exactly a lie. He’d overheard one of the hospital admins telling Robby something kind of similar. It had more to do with courting donors, but close enough. In any way, it made more sense to say that than anything else. It was harmless. Abby got a rare night away from the kids and a chance to dress up for once. He’d bought her so many beautiful dresses that she rarely got a chance to wear.

If he was good enough, he might get her home before she was too tired. It’d been more than a few months. Not for lack of trying. But she was always exhausted at the end of the day. Even if he got home early enough to help her with the kids, there was always something else to do. It would get better down the line, which he promised her all the time. Tonight was a perfect time to remind her of how much better it could get. 

At least the fundraiser was held at a decent enough hotel that it made an evening of listening to bourbon and bullshit men in suits bearable. When they arrived, Frank took Abby’s hand and walked just behind her, looking around for any sign of a familiar friendly face.

Robby’s was the first he saw. He hugged Abby and told Frank he cleaned up nice, but very clearly was intent on finding someone specific. Frank still needed to find a friendly face. 

The first of which was Jack Abbott. The fact that he would be at this thing would have been surprising if Samira Mohan wasn’t on his arm. See, now that made sense. Samira always wanted more face time with people so that she could use them as a mirror. She had a calm way of making most people feel at ease. 

Frank talked with Samira for a while, keeping his eyes moving around the hall, waiting to catch a glimpse of honey wheat hair. He didn’t care if it arrived on the arm of Nat Bennett. Nat Bennett was a perfectly nice guy.

“Are you looking for something?” Abby asked, placing the palm of her hand against his back. “I think the restrooms were down that back corridor.”

He laughed. “No, I’m just curious what big, handsome checkbooks are here tonight.”

Abby pushed him playfully. “Behave, Frank.”

He saw Nat before he saw Mel. He had a nice grey suit on with a pine green tie. And then, next to him, Mel. In an olive yellow-green dress with her hair tucked loosely into a clip. Strands already fell from the clip lightly around her face. But the dress. Neck a few inches below her collarbones. Thick straps that crossed in the back. An asymmetrical hem that started just above her knee and split across her leg. He tried not to stare, but he couldn't take his eyes off her.

“Hi! Oh, everyone looks so nice tonight!” Mel said brightly when she and Nat met them. “Samira, you look amazing.”

When Mel looked at Frank, she couldn't keep the gleam out of her eyes as she mouthed “hi.” But her eyes swept over him and landed on Abby.

“Hi, Mrs. Langdon, it's so nice to see you again,” she said. “You look incredible.”

Abby beamed, placing a hand on Frank’s arm. It was quite obvious, however, that she did not remember meeting Mel. Which made sense. It'd been the briefest moment at the hospital. When Mel turned to keep chatting with Samira, Abby turned to Frank.

“Remind me who she is?” she whispered. “I've met her?”

“Mel King,” Frank said. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but it felt a little tawdry just saying Mel’s name like that to Abby. 

Abby nodded with mild recognition of the name, but not the face. “You've mentioned her before, right?”

Frank tried to keep his face impassive, but it softened when he looked at Mel again. The way her skin looked against the gold-green dress was distracting. “Yeah, I’m sure a few times.” 

Mel slid her hands over Nat while they talked, but she kept glancing at Frank even when someone else was speaking. When Nat leaned down to give her a peck on the cheek, her eyes met Frank’s before she closed them with a grin.

He could have sworn there was the tiniest smirk on her face. Maybe it was just in his head.

And he would have let it go, would have focused on the way Abby’s red hair caught the lights and her tinkling laughter talking with Samira. Except when Mel started talking about Nat growing up with horses and how badly she'd always wanted to ride a horse as a little girl, that’s when he saw it.

Annoyance.

Just a hint of it in the crease of Nat’s brow as his eyes scanned the room for something, anything else to draw his attention. Frank knew that look. He saw it on people talking to Mel every day. The desperation to find something to change the subject to so they could derail Mel’s rambling.

He caught Mel’s eye while she finished talking. It didn't matter if no one else was listening. He was.

“Becca chewed off how many legs?” he asked.

“Four. Not all on the same horse.” Mel tilted her head.

“So Becca has been so hungry she could eat a horse?” he asked.

Mel laughed once loudly, covering her mouth when everyone glanced at her. “No!”

Nat patted Mel’s shoulder and disappeared to get drinks with Jack and Samira. Abby looked around for the ladies’ room and promised she'd be back in just a few minutes, but she wanted to check on the kids.

Mel and Frank stood as they often did, the only two people in a crowded space. Mel looked out the back exit of the enormous room.

“I need some air,” she said. “Nat keeps the heat in his car around 80.”

“Oh, I was wondering if he was part lizard,” Frank said. 

Without even thinking about it, Frank followed her like a duckling. He'd be back before Abby finished talking to the sitter and the kids.

Outside on the back patio dappled with string lights and people chatting, Mel took in a deep breath and turned her face to the sky. 

“When I was little,” she said, “it used to make me so upset when I couldn't see the stars. Cloudy nights used to make me so mad.”

Frank watched her head tilted up, the patio lights reflecting in her glasses. He resisted the urge to tap the tip of her nose. The gold-green of her dress shifted under the patio lights. 

“You uh, you look very nice tonight,” he said, trying to play it off like something he hadn’t been thinking about since he spotted her. 

“Thank you!” she beamed, looking at him instead of the sky. “I don’t really dress up much. I feel kind of silly.”

Through the start of the evening, more wisps of hair had fallen out of the delicate clip at the back of her head and fell loosely in front of her face. Frank stepped closer and pushed one slowly behind her ear, his hand lingering for just a second too long. 

“It's nice to see you so happy,” he said as he slowly did the same with the other side. 

Mel’s smile deepened, if it was possible. “You and Abby look perfect. Except…” she twisted her mouth to the side and touched his arm, squeezing it softly. “I think you'd look better without the jacket. Your arms.”

Frank could burn the jacket. Just show him the matches.

“It's all the pushups,” he said. “I've been taking tips from Sim Frank.”

Mel snorted and covered her mouth with embarrassment. The little pink flush of her cheeks filled him with a sense of pride, and he laughed, looking down for a second before returning his eyes to hers. He needed to keep making her do that.

He leaned against her, side by side, and crossed his arms while they looked at the crowd outside. He didn't really recognize most of these people. But that was okay. Frank’s hand grazed Mel’s arm, eliciting a wave of goosebumps to pop up over her flesh. The pink flush worked down her neck and to the top of her chest. Did it always do that, and he just never saw it under her scrubs? He'd keep imagining it that way, the pink spreading like wildfire across her body while he barely touched her. What would happen if he–

“Mel? Nat’s looking for you,” Samira called from several feet away. 

Mel pushed off against Frank and glanced behind her, smiling brightly as she followed Samira back inside. 

He couldn't get the image of soft, pink skin out of his head. It wormed into his brain and through his body until he found himself desperately seeking Abby in the crowd outside and in. When he finally found her, talking to Robby, he tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear to follow him.

It took a few minutes of frantic searching, trying every locked door they came across, until the handle of a supply closet gave in and he pulled her into it, locking the door behind them.

“Well hello,” Abby said, amused as Frank’s mouth descended on her neck. “What's gotten into you?” She kissed him, their teeth clacking against each other.

“That dress,” Frank said, pushing Abby against the metal shelf and hiking up the hem of her dress. “It's driving me crazy.”

It wasn't technically a lie. It was the dress.

Just not the one Abby was wearing.

Chapter Text

Mel listened to Samira’s update on the research she’d been doing alongside her friend, a little envious that Samira had these connections to begin with. Beyond being good with data and information, Samira was so good with people. Mel hoped it would rub off on her if they spent more time together. 

“I think we’re presenting the poster next month,” Samira said. “But we still haven’t heard. Jack and I are going to do a workshop either way, so I’ll be there.”

“You’ll be where?” Mel asked.

“SAEM. You should find a way to come. It’s good networking. If you have funding, that is.” Samira explained the workshop’s premise and how she’d roped Jack into helping her.

“You should go,” Nat said, nudging Mel. “It’ll be good for you to meet some more EM people from different areas. It might spark an idea for you.”

Mel considered the idea, but set it aside when Frank and Abby approached the table. There was something different about them. Abby’s face was a little flushed, her hair damp close to her scalp. Frank just looked pleased with himself, which was nothing out of the ordinary. He was missing his suit jacket, though. They sat across from Mel and Net, next to Robby’s empty chair. 

“What are you guys talking about?” Frank asked. “Samira, you’re doing SAEM?”

Samira nodded. “I was trying to get Mel to come. Tell her, she’ll listen to you.”

Frank looked at Mel, considering. “It could be worth it.”

Mel had attended two conferences, neither of which she really enjoyed. Then again, enjoying it wasn’t exactly the point. It was the nonstop meeting people that drained the life out of her. 

“But if you go,” Frank continued. “You need to find someone to water your crops.”

Mel laughed loudly again, this time not bothering to cover her mouth. It would be 16 years from then, and he would find a way to bring that up. 

“Not this again,” Jack groaned. “You two.”

Abby looked between Mel and Frank, her brow furrowed. “Do you own a farm?”

“Oh, no, I don’t,” Mel said, now serious. “He just likes to joke.”

Abby looked at Frank with confusion now, clearly not enjoying being left out of the loop.

“It’s from a game she plays,” Frank said. 

“Wait, is that why you keep saying that?” Samira asked, pulling a face. “You two drive me crazy.” She looked over at Jack. “Do you remember the week he kept insisting we call her Melissa just to see how confused she got?”

“That was you?” Mel asked, her mouth gaping at Frank. “Well it worked, I was very confused. You got Robby doing it.”

Frank smirked. “You’re easy.”

Abby nodded along, but there was a detectable awkwardness emanating from her. Mel tried to think of something to change the subject to, not wanting Abby to feel left out of the conversation.

“How are Penny and Tanner?” Mel asked, looking at her encouragingly.

“They’re the best,” Abby said softly. “I miss them, and I’ve only been away from them for a few hours.”

“They’re so lucky,” Mel said. “You guys seem like such a happy family.” There was a hint of sadness behind her voice that she tried to tuck away. Nat squeezed her hand under the table, and Mel looked up at him with a big-cheeked grin.

“Nat,” Frank said, interrupting the gazing. “Where are you from?”

“Boston,” Nat said. “Hoping to make it back there one day, but we’ll see.”

Mel looked at Nat with alarm. “You want to move back there? I don’t think you told me that.”

Nat nodded. “It’s a long ways out.”

Unease spread through Mel’s stomach. She didn’t exactly think Nat was the one, but he was at least fun to spend time with. It could have partially been what they spent their time doing, but that didn’t matter. Nat put his arm around Mel and squeezed. She leaned her head against him, eyes glancing across the table before she looked down. Frank was watching them again, and a familiar little thrill shot through her. She put her hand over Nat’s.

Mel barely touched her dinner, which she was used to. There were just some things she still couldn’t bring herself to eat, especially in an environment like this. Nat and Jack were talking for most of it, trading stories until Robby finally appeared, looking bored and ready to leave. It was still a surprise that he’d come at all. This was not the kind of thing he liked to spend his time doing.

Mel was getting antsy from the constant noise and chatter around her, but wanted to be a good sport and stay for Nat. She’d met a handful of his Internal Medicine colleagues, who were all friendly, but a little disinterested in talking to anyone but each other. 

“Mel, we should see how expensive flights are,” Samira said, pulling out her phone. “My friend’s team comped mine. But I have a room booked, and you could stay there too. I really think you should come.”

They looked at flights. Mel could afford it, and a flight to Denver wouldn’t be that long. She didn’t like flying and avoided it wherever she could, but this wouldn’t be that bad. 

“We’ll make it work,” Samira said. “You’re coming.”

Mel nodded, though she didn’t think she had a say in the matter at that point. Once Samira had the idea that someone would benefit from doing something, it was already determined.

Nat grabbed her hand. “Hey, come with me for a minute. I want you to meet someone.” He led her up out of her seat and pulled her across the floor, heading for a man in an expensive-looking navy blue suit. Mel listened politely as Nat introduced them, then zoned out when the two started talking about hospital business. Mel looked around the expansive room while she worked at the inner corner of her lower lip. Her eyes landed on Frank, who was already looking at her from across the room. Mel tried to hide her smile to no avail. It was impossible to see him and not smile.

She pressed her hand across Nat’s back while he spoke with his friend, sliding it down the expanse of his back. Nat glanced down at her, but she barely registered it. She was trying her hardest not to look back again.

When Nat’s friend stepped away, he turned to face Mel. “Are you getting antsy?”

“Mmhm,” Mel said, distracted. “I’m surprised it’s taken this long.”

Nat grinned. “What are you thinking about? #254?”

“No, I haven’t gotten that far yet,” Mel said. “I’m still on 226.” Three people, one kitchen table. That one had been a surprise. Sim Frank, Sim Mel, and Sim Nat had fun with 226. She’d added Sim Nat to the game after his insistence. He wanted to see how Mel made him look as a Sim, and was visibly disappointed when she’d shown him. Mel did try to tell him that she spent most of her time making women in the game. 

Nat put his arm around her as they walked back to the department’s table, he pulled out her chair, but stood behind her as she sat. He set his hands on her shoulders. Mel looked up at him, but he was scanning the room for someone to talk to. She knew he did that when she talked. He wasn’t subtle. Nat’s hands spread across her collarbones and Mel sank back into him. When she looked around at the table, Jack and Samira were talking very closely. Robby had left, most likely for good. Abby was on her phone, and Frank… was trying not to look at her, but failing. She shut her eyes as Nat’s hands gently massaged her shoulders for a few seconds. When she opened them, Frank’s eyes were locked onto her. 

Nat finally sat next to her, apparently out of people he’d rather talk to. But he leaned toward her and whispered the idea of leaving into her ear, and nothing sounded quite as sweet. She’d hit her limit. He wiggled his eyebrows at her and kissed her. She didn’t have to open an eye to know. She leaned into the kiss, and when she pulled away, she had been correct. Still watching.

They rose as Mel said goodnight to them, holding onto Nat’s hand as she told everyone to have a beautiful night and how glad she’d been to see them all. She waved as they left, and gave one last look behind her as they exited the hall. Still. Watching.

Though she’d never actually been high before, Mel figured the thrill worming its way through her body had to be just like it. She wanted another hit.

But as they walked to his car, Nat dropped Mel’s hand. 

“Can I ask you something?” Nat asked, a hint of caution in his voice. “Maybe I’m just being a little paranoid, but… I’ve kind of noticed something.”

“Yeah?” Mel asked. “What?”

“So… you seem to get extra physical with me sometimes.”

“Oh, is that a bad thing?” Mel felt a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m not used to all this.”

“No, it’s just… it’s whenever we’re around Dr. Langdon. It kind of seems like you’re trying to… show off?” Nat stepped down from the sidewalk as they approached his car. It unlocked with a beep and Nat opened the driver’s side door.

Oh. Mel swallowed. What could she say to that? She had a few seconds while they both got into Nat’s car. “Oh. Um.” She pressed her thumb into her palm and drew circles.

“Look, I’m not judging you or anything,” he said quickly. “But… the joke about watering your crops. He knows about your Sims thing, right?”

“He’s the one who did it,” Mel said. “He was fixing my laptop for me and he put the mod on there as a joke.”

Nat nodded his head slowly. “That’s a little strange to joke about in front of his wife.”

“It doesn't mean anything,” Mel said defensively. Her shoulder rose around her neck. “He just thinks it’s funny to get a rise out of me.”

Nat pulled onto the street. “So you’re, what, trying to get a rise out of him then? By touching me? Are you using me?”

Mel shook her head. “No, of course not.” It was really Nat touching her that was the point. It didn’t seem like the right moment to correct him. Their conversation would go a lot different, and Mel didn’t want to make things awkward.

“Good,” Nat said. “Because that wouldn’t be cool.”

Mel nodded, but didn’t say anything. It would have been impossible to explain that they weren’t crossing any lines. They were deliberately not crossing lines. 

“I think we should try #156,” she said, changing the subject. “But we’re going to need a taller bookshelf.”

Chapter Text

MEL KING: It was nice to see Abby! She looked so gorgeous in that dress.
FRANK LANGDON: She does, doesn’t she?
MEL KING: Enjoy the rest of your night, Dr. Langdon!
FRANK LANGDON: You can call me Frank
MEL KING: 🌭
FRANK LANGDON: 👑

Frank unbuttoned his shirt, eager to get out of the hot fabric after a long night. They’d arrived home after the kids were long asleep, relieved the sitter, and started getting ready for a well-earned night of rest. Abby was up later than usual, the etchings of exhaustion creeping across her face. He’d made the right decision by pulling her into the closet at the fundraiser, but he tried not to think about why he’d needed to so badly.

“Samira’s so smart,” Abby said. “The way she was talking about the advocacy group actually got me thinking.” She yawned as she slipped off her dress and hung it back up in their closet. 

“Samira’s great. We’re lucky she’s hanging around for a while longer. We almost lost her to New Jersey.” Frank suppressed a face. 

“I think Mel has a little crush on you,” Abby said, heading into their bathroom to wash her face.

Frank sat with that for a second. If he rushed to deny it, Abby would see right through him. It was obvious. But they were having such a nice night. He didn’t want to ruin it. 

“Yeah?” he asked, carefully. “What makes you say that?”

“Just the way she is around you,” Abby called from the bathroom. “Don’t get me wrong, she seems like a sweet girl. A little quirky.”

He didn’t like the way she said that. Dismissive, almost. Like Mel was a child.

“She’s like that with everyone,” Frank said. “It’s just how she is. She’s very enthusiastic and earnest. It’s one of the things I, we, love about her.”

Abby reentered the bedroom with a furrowed brow. “She wasn’t like that with Nat or Jack. Maybe a little with Samira.”

“Hmm,” Frank said. “I don’t know.”

Abby pulled back the bedspread and top sheet and slipped into bed. “Whenever the two of you were talking, it’s like you were on a different wavelength than everyone else. It was hard to keep up.”

Frank laughed a little. “She has ADHD. Or something. I've never asked. I think it’s just that. Like seeks like. We both have organized chaos going on at all times.”

Abby looked like she was slowly accepting the idea. “Nat seemed like a nice fit for her. They make a cute couple.” She watched Frank’s face while he slipped into the bed next to her.

Frank’s mouth made a tight line as he struggled for the right thing to say. Sure, he’s a nice fit. Sure, he seems okay. He was afraid his voice would betray himself. Nat was nice. But he wasn’t a good fit for Mel. He didn’t listen to her. The rejection on her face whenever she’d look at Nat to find him looking off somewhere else for someone else to talk to bothered him. It was this look of constantly being left hanging, and scrambling for someone to see you. He understood that feeling more than he liked to admit.

“Yeah,” he said. “He seems fine.” It wasn’t worth it to say otherwise. 

Frank didn’t have to work the following day, so he spent the morning watching cartoons with the kids and getting them ready to go to the park so Abby could have the afternoon to herself and see her friends. Frank was thrilled. He missed the kids anytime he wasn’t with them, and never got to spend mornings like this with them anymore. On most of his days off, he had a million other things he had to do.

It was a nice afternoon. Some of Penny and Tanner’s friends from the neighborhood were already there, and they ran off in different directions, making it nearly impossible to keep up with them. After an hour of them running around, he collected them to hydrate and smear some sunscreen across their little faces. He wiped the remnants of the sunscreen off on his jeans as they took off again, eager to get back to their friends. As he stood from a painful crouch to find a bench with a better vantage point, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Mel’s contact photo filled the screen, a picture he’d taken two months ago when Mel hadn’t been looking. She had her full twisted-mouth pout and furrowed brow as she read something from her phone. He should have taken a picture of her at the fundraiser. He needed to remind himself to look at Samira’s Instagram for pictures.

“Hey, everything okay?” he asked. He found a bench where he could see the kids no matter where they ran.

“Um. Hey,” Mel said. She sounded off. “Are you busy?”

“I’m at the park with the kids,” he said. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“Oh!” She sounded very off. “No, I’m sorry for bugging you, ha–”

“Mel, what’s wrong?” His stomach lurched at the idea of her in distress. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m fine, it’s just, Becca is missing. And I’m freaking out a little.” She sounded panicked.

His heart sank. “Oh no. Middle Hill doesn’t know where she is?”

“No, which, don’t get me started on that. Okay. I’m going to get an Uber and see if they can take me to a few places.” Mel wasn’t breathing in between sentences.

“Mel,” Frank tried to interrupt.

“I should have taken her out of Middle Hill,” she continued. “I can’t believe they can just lose a person like this.”

“Mel, I can help,” Frank said, louder, hoping to snap her out of it. If he was in front of her, he'd be able to wave in her face in that way she hated. “Where are you?”

“No,” Mel said. “You’re with your kids. I’m sorry I called, it was stupid of me.”

“Tell me where you are,” he said. “We can come. It’s okay, really.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Mel said.

“Just tell me where you are.”

Mel gave her address, and Frank collected Tanner and Penny. They weren’t happy about leaving the park early, but gave in when he promised them pizza for dinner. Mel sounded frantic over the phone, nearly distraught. She needed someone to stop her from completely spinning out and losing her shit at the people who worked at Middle Hill. The kids would be okay. Mel would not.

Chapter Text

Mel paced up and down the sidewalk in front of her building, alternating between looking at her phone and holding it up to her ear. This was absurd. How could Middle Hill have lost Becca? She knew it was a mistake to keep Becca there. Yes, she was happy and doing well, but it still gave Mel heartburn. She didn’t notice Frank’s car pulling up alongside her until he was out of the car and blocking her path. She bit back the urge to shove him out of the way.

“Come here,” Frank said, folding her into a tight, warm hug. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

Mel’s arms hung limply at her shoulders, but the pressure of his arms around her was a weighted blanket. Her heart was slowing down already. 

“Thank you for coming,” she whispered. “I’m scared.”

He led her to his car and opened the passenger’s side door, then hopped in himself. Penny and Tanner looked at her with interest. Mel had seen pictures and videos of them a million times, but seeing them in person was different. They had their father’s incredible blue eyes, and Penny had Abby’s red hair. They were perfect.

“Hey guys, this is Mel,” Frank said. “I work with her at the hospital.”

“Hi,” Tanner said. “Are you a doctor too?”

Mel nodded at them, forcing a smile. “I am. It’s so nice to meet you two. Your dad talks about you two all the time.”

“He does?” Tanner asked.

“All the time,” Mel said. “You’re his favorite people to talk about.”

“Wow,” Penny said.

“Okay, you two. Daddy needs to help his coworker solve a problem. You guys have permission to take out the tablets and the headphones. But you have to watch something together. Can you do that?” The kids, thankfully, obliged.

Mel tried calling Becca again while Frank got the kids situated. The long rings were going to make her insane. Every ring vibrated her brain and her spine at the same time.

“Tell me what you need,” Frank said when he turned back around. “Do you want to look for her?”

“Yes,” Mel said. “Adam said they got into an argument when they were out today, and Becca slipped away when no one was looking. It was three hours ago. I can’t believe they didn’t call me for three hours.”

“So where would she go if she was upset?” Frank asked. “What’s the first place we should look?”

“I thought she might come to my apartment,” Mel said. “But I don’t think she knows how to get here. She doesn’t know this area very well.”

“Okay. So what does she know?”

“The bakery. The pizza place. And the zoo.” Mel scrunched her face. “We should try the zoo. I don’t know if she knows how to get there. It seems far away for her.”

“It’s worth a try,” Frank said. He pulled away from the curb.

Mel continued to try Becca’s phone to no avail. After the third consecutive try, she strangled the phone with one hand. “Gah! Why isn’t she returning my calls? I’m so scared something happened to her.”

Frank rubbed her arm. “You need to take a deep breath. Do not start thinking about things like that. It’s not going to help.”

Mel crossed her arms and dropped her phone into her lap with annoyance, sinking down into the seat with petulance. “Fine.”

Frank squeezed her leg. “Come on. I know that you’re scared and upset. This is a bad situation. But we’ll figure it out, okay?”

We’ll figure it out. Mel latched onto that as she looked out the car window, then down at her phone again. He was pissing her off, but he was right. She felt like kicking him.

The drive to the Zoo took 20 minutes in midday traffic. Frank barely parked the car before Mel shot out of the passenger’s seat and to the entrance. She scanned the small crowd with desperation licking at her heels, her heart rate spiking every time her eyes landed on someone who looked remotely like Becca. 

She found Zoo security and shoved her phone in their faces, showing them a picture of Becca. “Have you seen my sister?” she asked. “Please, have you seen her?” As soon as they shook their heads, Mel ran off to find more zoo employees, getting more and more worked up as they each denied seeing Becca.

She asked seven people before an older woman gestured by an alcove. Becca sat with her hands in her lap. Mel darted across the sidewalk and grabbed her sister, getting down to her knees to hug her in the chair. Her heart was about to explode through her throat.

“Mel? What are you doing here?” Becca asked, pulling away from Mel’s arms. “Wait. How did you know I was here?”

“We've been looking for you,” Mel said, looking over Becca. “Nobody knew where you were. Come on, I have to take you home.” She pulled out her phone and typed out I FOUND HER.

“I don't want to go yet,” Becca said. 

“You have to come with me. Please, Becca. You can't just run off without anyone knowing where you are for hours.” Mel rose to her feet, pulling Becca with her. 

Becca was not happy to go. Mel did not care. She was trying her hardest not to show the anger bubbling in her chest. She spotted Frank’s car and guided them toward it.

“Who's car are we going to? Did you get a car?” Becca asked, surprised.

“No. This is Dr. Langdon’s car. He drove me here. His kids are with him. Becca, why didn't you answer my calls?” Mel spotted Frank and felt herself slow down just a little. 

“Dr. Langdon?” Becca stopped, confused. “Oh wow, you really were looking for me. Am I in trouble?”

“We can talk about that later. Why didn't you answer my calls?” Mel repeated through a tightened jaw.

“I left my phone. I didn't want to talk to anyone,” Becca said.

“You can't do that,” Mel said with a raised voice. “You cannot run off like that. Do you have any idea how scared I was? How did you even get there?”

Becca pulled back and stopped walking again. “Stop yelling at me!” She looked seconds away from tears.

Frank jumped out of the car and stood next to Becca. Mel’s nails dug into her palms as she tried to stop herself from unloading on her sister. Maybe there would come a day where she didn’t have to be the bigger person. Just once.

“Hey, Becca,” Frank said. “I'm glad Mel found you. Let me introduce you to Tanner and Penny. Mel, why don't you take a second?” He made eye contact with her and directed her to the other side of the car, then mouthed please.

Mel scowled at him but gave in and walked around the car. She needed to collect herself and not make her frustration anyone else's problem. Especially not Tanner and Penny. That wouldn’t be fair to them, especially after she was the reason they had to ditch the park on a nice day. She rolled her shoulders and neck and took in a deep breath. 

fuck bein' good, i'm a bad bitch, ah, i’m sick of motherfuckers tryna tell me how to live, fuck y’all

When she got into the car a few minutes later, Frank was watching her with soft eyes. She mouthed “thank you” and slid down into the seat.

“So Becca wants to go back to Middle Hill,” he said, wincing on her behalf.

Mel shut her eyes. “Okay.” She nodded, depleted of the will to argue any further.

When they arrived at Middle Hill, Becca, Frank and Mel exited the car. Becca blew past Mel. It would be fruitless to follow her. Mel would make an appointment to speak to the Program Director about what happened. She could prepare herself for that. They needed a plan to make sure this never happened again.

“I’ll give you a ride home,” Frank said. “Come on.”

“I need to walk,” Mel said. She needed to regulate herself.

“Okay, but get home safe.” 

“Thank you for helping me today,” Mel said, avoiding looking at him. She’d been so close to ripping his head off multiple times. “I don't know what I would have done without you.”

“See, everything is okay." Frank pulled her into a tight hug, his hand cradling the back of her head. "Now, when you get home, don't forget to water your crops.”

Chapter Text

“How was the park?” Abby asked when Frank and the kids arrived home. “I was just about to get started on dinner.”

“Daddy said we get pizza,” Tanner said. “He promised.”

Abby looked surprised and glanced sidelong at her husband. “Okay. Well… sure, guys. If Daddy says you get pizza, I guess you get pizza.” 

Frank winced. “I’m sorry, I know I should have said something. It was a whole thing.”

“We met Daddy’s friend,” Tanner said. “We helped her and Daddy hugged her because she was sad.”

Abby smiled at her son, but it didn’t meet her eyes. Frank tried to keep his expression still, like not moving might make him disappear.

“Why don’t you guys get cleaned up?” Abby said. “Daddy will go get the pizza.”

The kids ran off, leaving Abby to turn to Frank. He knew what was coming. He deserved it.

"Why would you do that?” she asked, annoyance prickling through her voice. “You know I was getting groceries. You’re lucky I didn’t already start anything.”

“We had to leave the park early, so I wanted to make it up to them,” he said. “I know I should have said something.”

“You make it up to them by being consistent,” Abby said. “And what was he talking about? What were you guys doing? What friend?”

“Mel called me panicking,” Frank said. “Her sister Becca, went missing. I drove her to the Zoo, and we got lucky. She was there.”

Abby’s mouth pressed into a flat line. “Why is she calling you for something like that?”

“What was I supposed to say?” Frank didn’t like the way this was going.

“How about ‘No, I’m spending time with my kids.’ Or call a fucking Uber. I don’t know. What are you doing dragging our kids around helping this girl??”

He was taken aback. “She’s my friend, Abby. She was upset. Her sister’s the only family she has.”

Abby shook her head. “Please just go pick up a pizza.”

“Abby,” Frank said, putting his hand on her shoulder before she walked away.

“I’m just frustrated. We have to be on the same page about these things.” Abby said. “Just go get the pizza.”

As he watched her walk away, Frank deflated. He should have told her about the pizza. This wasn't the first time he'd done something like this. But he’d been doing so much better. Progress isn't always linear. Still, he needed to do better. He got back into his car and headed to the spot they always ordered from, two miles away. They gave him a wait time of twenty minutes, so he pulled out his phone.

Samira finally posted pictures from the fundraiser. There were several of her and Jack. Then one of Samira and Mel with their faces pressed together. One of the group of them at the table. It was a fair reminder that Abby and Frank looked good together. Perfect. He swiped again to a picture of Mel gesturing wildly with her hands, her eyes wide. Next to her, Nat was looking across the room at something off camera. Jack was quietly amused. Frank leaned forward and laughed with his hand holding Abby’s on top of the table. Abby looked at Mel with a furrowed brow of confusion, her mouth slightly parted. 

He took a screenshot and swiped ahead. Samira posing. Nat and Jack. Then he and Mel outside under the string lights, leaning against each other. Mel was looking at him with joyful eyes. He was looking down with a smile. Samira must have caught the photo before she pulled Mel back to Nat. He took another screenshot. The last photo was of Samira and Mel again, posing back-to-back with finger guns and one foot pressed to the other’s. Another screenshot.

FRANK LANGDON: Get home OK?
MEL KING: Yes
FRANK LANGDON: Still mad?
MEL KING: Yes.
FRANK LANGDON: Do something to get your mind off it.
MEL KING: OK. Fine.

Frank smirked at the bratty attitude she’d been giving him all day. He liked when it slipped through the cracks. Her eye rolls were adorable.

He got home thirty minutes later, hot pizza in hand. Abby didn’t seem as upset as earlier, but he still needed to do something to make it up to her. He’d buy her flowers tomorrow and get home early enough to relieve her of Mom duty.

After bedtime, Frank and Abby stayed up for a while watching some prestige medical mystery show. He hated the cocky asshole main guy, but Abby loved the show. She curled up against the opposite side of the couch, tucking her feet against her body. Frank put his hand on her knee and kept it there until she adjusted, sliding down to lay her head on the arm of the couch, her feet in his lap.

FRANK LANGDON: What did you decide to do?
MEL KING: I ordered takeout. Playing the Sims. Watching My Best Friend’s Wedding.
FRANK LANGDON: All good choices. How’s Queen Mel?
MEL KING: She has 22 kids. I don’t think she’s going to be a successful writer. Her crops are dying.
FRANK LANGDON: Jesus
MEL KING: You can only have 8 in one house so she doesn’t even live with all her own children. Some of them live alone.
FRANK LANGDON: Deadbeat
MEL KING: She’s doing her best!!! But then this happens. 

She sent a screenshot of Queen Mel laying stomach-down on the bed while Sim – Wait. That wasn’t Sim Frank fucking her from behind.

It was Sim Nat. 

Oh. A strange, twisting feeling spiraled through his body. Hmm. He swallowed and clicked the phone screen off and slid it away from him, face down. Sure. On TV, the asshole protagonist caught a break in the case based on a temperature reading. Whatever. Okay, fine. This show was stupid. 

What was so great about Nat Bennett, anyway? Okay, so he was first author in an abnormally high number of publications. Whatever. He had a family ski property in Vail. Great. He was handsome. Sure. Established. Secure. Respected. Fine.

“You’re going to poke a hole if you keep doing that,” Abby said, pushing his hand with her foot.

When had his hand started digging into the edge of the couch? He released it and patted the indentations a few times to smooth it over.

“Something on your mind?” Abby asked. “Oh, wait, is it some medical inaccuracy again?”

“No,” Frank said, squeezing her foot. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

He opened his message thread with Mel again and looked at the picture. He turned it face down again. Then kept repeating this process every few minutes like a twisted jack-in-the-box. No matter how many times he turned the crank, the result wouldn’t change. Eventually, he’d be punched in the gut anyway.

Chapter Text

One could argue that the real inciting incident may have been a few weeks later, Mel sat on a stool as she helped clean the wounds of a little girl who’d been attacked by a dog. The dog’s target had been her little brother, and she put herself in the dog’s way instead. She would be fine. Most likely afraid of large dogs for a long time, but Mel hoped not forever.

“I was scared,” the girl said.

“You were very brave,” Mel said. “And you’ll get to remind your brother about this all the time when he wants to watch something dumb on TV.”

The little girl considered this. “I didn’t want him to get hurt.”

Mel finished with the saline rinse and patted the girl’s hand. “You did a very good job.”

When she finished with the little girl, Mel slipped into the ED to find out the status of her other patients. She had an hour to go, and it looked like she might be able to cut and run as soon as her shift ended – if she hadn’t just jinxed it by thinking about it. She and Nat were going to Hot Pot II when they met after shift.

“I’m losing my mind today,” Samira said behind her. “My mom has been calling me again trying to get me to come see her. I told her she can’t just expect me to come running anymore and she called me a bad daughter.”

Mel cringed. “Oh, that has to be so frustrating for you.”

“I’m tired of being her punching bag,” Samira said. “But she’s my mom. This is just a new shade of the same old thing for us. I don't know why I perpetuate the cycle.”

“It sounds like you made the right decision by staying here,” Mel said. “I know I’d be sad if you were gone.”

Samira made a sweet face and patted Mel on the back. “You’re a good person, Mel. Don’t let anyone change that about you.”

Mel didn’t know how to take that comment. Don’t let anyone change that about her. How could someone change something about her? She was about to ask Samira what she meant, but her phone buzzed in her pocket.

NAT BENNETT: Sorry, gotta cancel tonight. See you Friday?
MEL KING: Ok! See you Friday. 😊

Damn. She’d been looking forward to seeing him and fighting off the lingering chill together. She slipped her phone away. She needed to wrap up charting and find Dr. Ellis before she left. 

Freezing rain descended on the hospital. Mel, of course, had expected to leave in Nat’s car, so she hadn’t come prepared with her umbrella. Rookie mistake. She checked the bus schedule and figured she could either walk and be freezing cold and soaked by the time she got home, or suffer the bus for just a little while. It was a more difficult choice than it should have been. The last time she rode the bus, a man passed out in the aisle ahead of her. 

Mel huddled into her jacket and started heading to the bus stop on the other side of the hospital when a familiar car pulled up next to her.

“You’re not walking in this, are you?” Frank asked from inside.

“Do you have an umbrella?” Mel asked. “I really just need an umbrella and I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll drive you home. Come on.” He moved his jacket from the passenger seat to the back as Mel obliged.

She slipped into his car and put her hands up to the heating vents. Pieces of her hair stuck to her forehead as she looked at Frank. 

“Thank you. I hope this isn’t too far out of your way.” She knew that it was in the opposite direction of where he needed to go. When his gaze met hers, Mel felt the familiar flush building across her face. She looked at her hands instead.

“I’m not going to let you walk in freezing rain,” Frank said. “The last thing we need is you slipping on ice.”

“I was going to take the bus,” Mel said. “But thank you.”

Frank made a face as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. “You need a car.”

“I’m not… good at driving,” Mel said, ducking. “It kind of stresses me out?”

Frank smirked. “Ahh, yeah. It’s super easy for the rest of us.”

Mel laughed. “I mean the lights. Especially at night. I can’t see anything but them. The last time I drove, I… uh, kind of hit a mailbox.”

“Kind of?” Frank asked, glancing at her.

“I mean, I hit it. But it wasn’t that big of a deal. There wasn’t any mail in it.”

Frank laughed. “Oh, okay. If you hit a mailbox and there’s no mail in it, did you really hit the mailbox at all?”

Mel laughed, her shoulders shaking. “Stop!”

Frank pulled up behind a large truck at a light and looked over at her. “I thought you said you were going out with Nat tonight? Did you change your mind?”

“No, he did. I mean, he said he had to cancel.” Mel sighed and glanced at him from the corner of her eye, trying to seem non-chalant. “It’s too bad. I shaved this morning.”

The corner of Frank’s mouth twitched, but he said nothing, just mumbled a quiet “Hmm.”

“I should catch up on journals tonight,” Mel said, moving on. “Or podcasts.”

“Podcasts,” Frank suggested.

“If I do that, I can play The Sims, too,” Mel said, nodding. “And then read before bed. Ahh, you’re a genius.”

Frank beamed. “How’s Queen Mel faring?”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you?” Mel said. “Queen Mel died.”

“She DIED?” he asked, looking at her with wide eyes. “Like forever?”

Mel nodded. “Well, she’s a ghost now. It’s not slowing her down at all, though.”

Frank’s eyebrows were nearly off his face. “I didn’t know that was a thing that could happen.”

Mel grinned. “You can fuck the Grim Reaper and have Grimborn children.”

“That's… I never thought the Sims had things like that. I didn't really watch Charlie’s videos. Maybe she did all of that and I never knew.” Frank pulled onto Mel’s street and found a parking spot across from the entrance of her building. 

“Are her videos still up? Do you remember her channel?” Mel asked, pulling out her phone. “I’ll look her up.”

“Wait, I’ll ask her.” Frank pulled out his phone and sent a message. The answer came thirty seconds later with a link to the channel, which he sent to Mel. He held up his phone and pressed play on one.

The video was the introduction to a new save file, starting with a household that included two sisters starting at $0. 

Mel nodded. “Mmhm, very nice.”

Frank’s eyes were on her. “Is that what you do?”

“Sometimes.” Mel liked different challenges, but she always came back to rags to riches. She hated seeing the Sims on the verge of collapsing with exhaustion while pissing themselves, so it motivated her to get them out of rags. 

Charlie didn't show her face, just the gameplay. In the middle of her explaining her approach to townie makeovers, Frank’s phone went black for a second before Abby's call photo appeared. Mel glanced at him.

He picked up the phone. “Hey. I'm on my way. I had to run an errand first. Be there in 20. Okay. Bye.”

Mel unbuckled her seatbelt. “An errand?” That phrasing sent unease through her body. It was an acrobatic lie of omission. Technically the truth, but more loaded by what hasn't been included. 

“Yeah, I’ll explain it when I get home,” he said. “Not worth getting into it right now.”

“Thanks for the ride,” Mel said, reaching for the door handle. “You know, you could have just let me borrow your umbrella. I don’t want to be an imposition." She gestured to the one stuffed into the passenger side door as she opened it.

“Mel,” Frank said, stopping her with one of his looks. “I wanted to give you a ride home. Have a good night.”

“You too!” Mel shut the door and crossed the road to her apartment, then turned to wave goodbye as she knew he'd be waiting for her to go inside. 

When Mel got to her apartment, she began her nightly ritual. She showered, slipped into cozy pajamas, put on her podcasts, and made a snack plate for dinner.

She got around to the Sims a few hours later, where she loaded the Queen Mel save file. Ghost Mel was boring. It was time for a resurrection.

Chapter Text

When Frank got home, he brought with him a bouquet of flowers he'd stopped to get at the grocery store by Mel’s apartment. He’d been meaning to get them for weeks. Pink gerbera daisies with white carnations. Abby kissed him hello and thanked him for the flowers. He handed them to her still wrapped in grocery store cellophane with a blue bow. She smiled as she retrieved one of the vases they'd gotten as a wedding gift and arranged the flowers in a perfect round spray.

“Sorry I’m late,” Frank said, hugging Abby.

“Bad traffic?” Abby asked. “It looks kind of nasty out there.”

“No,” Frank said. “I gave Mel a ride home.”

A purposefully neutral mask slid over Abby’s face. “Oh, because of the weather?”

“She didn't have an umbrella,” Frank said. “She walks. It's miserable out there.”

“That was nice of you. I can’t imagine not having a car in this city.” Abby made a face. “How far away from the hospital does she live?”

“Just a few miles,” Frank said. “She said hi.”

“A few miles in what direction?” Abby asked, pausing mid-chop to catch his eye. “Just out of curiosity.”

“Uhh. Over by the shop where I just got those,” Frank said, gesturing to the bouquet.

“Thank you for the flowers,” Abby said. She returned her attention to the heap of carrots and onions on her cutting board.  “They’re lovely.”

Frank stood awkwardly in the kitchen while Abby chopped. “I’m going to go say hi to the kids.” He glanced at Abby again, unsure if there was more to be said. When she said nothing, he headed to the living room. The air was thick with unspoken conflict. He tried not to let it impact the way he greeted the kids.

After dinner, Frank played First Orchard with Penny while Abby and Tanner worked on a Lego set he’d gotten for his birthday and still hadn’t finished. They read together before bedtime, and Abby and Frank once again found themselves watching that frustrating medical show. At least there were only four episodes left.

MEL KING: Queen Mel has been resurrected. Also, Charlie’s channel is good. You should watch it. I bet she’d like that.
FRANK LANGDON: Am I going to be grossed out?
MEL KING: PG
FRANK LANGDON: Do you do videos too?
MEL KING: I don’t think I’m funny enough.
FRANK LANGDON: What? You make me laugh all the time.
MEL KING: Next time see who else is laughing.

Frank laughed as he flipped over his phone. Abby glanced over at him from the other side of the couch and tilted her head. He shook his head. The air hadn’t completely returned to normal between them. There was still a chance of a storm on the horizon.

After the show ended, Abby scrolled around for another one. She worked at her jaw as she pretended to consider shows she’d never watch. 

“Didn’t I put an umbrella in your car?” she asked, pausing over a cooking show. “I bought us both umbrellas.”

“Oh,” Frank said. “I didn’t even think of that.” His phone buzzed again, but he had the sense not to look at it until a few minutes after Abby started a sitcom. 

MEL KING: Sim Frank quit his job, by the way. He was offered a career in the astronaut track.
FRANK LANGDON: I’ve been meaning to tell you about my meeting with NASA.
MEL KING: They’re sending you to Mars?
FRANK LANGDON: I’m on the 7am flight.
MEL KING: Can you push it to the noon one? I’d like a chance to say goodbye in case you’re abducted by aliens and returned to us as an alien in a Frank Langdon suit.

Frank laughed again, shaking his head. 

“Okay, no,” Abby said, putting up her hands. “I’m sorry, I have to say something. This has gone way too far. It has to stop.” She twisted her position so she sat with her knees pulled to her chest. 

“What has to stop?” Frank asked. “I’m not doing anything.”

Abby tilted her head at him. “You're sitting over there giggling like a little kid, texting Mel. Every single night. You see this girl almost every day as it is. You do not need to be texting her when you’re at home.”

“It’s harmless,” he said. “I can show you exactly–”

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn't feel harmless to me. I need you to put an end to it.” She took a slow breath in. “Please, at least ask her to stop texting you so much. And asking you to do things when you should be here with your family.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding as his stomach descended to the pits of hell. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. “I hear you, honey. I’ll tell her.”

“Thank you,” Abby insisted. “Maybe it's all in my head, but I’d just feel better.”

“Of course,” Frank said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was bothering you this much.” 

Frank squeezed her foot and turned to the TV. Abby was right. He needed to focus on his family when he was at home. Things wouldn't always be this way, and he wanted to enjoy the single digit years as much as possible. He would get home earlier, he would be a good father and husband. He would be the man he was supposed to be. 

There was no way he could have that conversation with Mel.

Chapter Text

A few days later, Mel scrolled through pictures of her and Becca on her phone while she took a body regulating break in the ambulance bay. She’d been caught between a mother and daughter who wanted to scream at each other instead of tending to the daughter’s infected injection sites. Mel’s teeth hurt. She slipped in her earbuds and leaned against the brick, rolling out her shoulders while she mentally ordered her heart to calm down. Unfortunately, when she opened them, she was still at work. Not somehow magically in bed, at home, in a dark and peaceful room.

Frank poked his head around the corner and caught her eye, then waved awkwardly and stepped out in a bizarrely wide, cartoonish cowboy walk. 

Mel cocked her head and furrowed her brow, laughing. She took out one of the earbuds. “What are you doing? What is this?”

Frank slipped the earbud from her hand and popped it in his ear. His eyebrows lifted as he looked bewildered. “It… sounds like a fireplace. Uh oh, do I need to check you for matches?” he asked.

“What? No. It's a snowy night with a fireplace. Here, listen to both.” Mel lifted her heels slightly to better reach and slid in the earbud, placing her hand on his arm for balance. Frank took in a sharp breath and locked eyes with Mel. She grinned expectantly as a thrill ran through her from the weight of his gaze. Her face heated. 

Frank listened for a minute as an appreciative look crossed his face. When he was done, he handed her the earbuds, not breaking eye contact. “That was hauntingly beautiful.”

“I know you’re joking,” Mel said. “But I don’t care.” She slipped her earbuds into the charger and then into her pocket.

“You okay?” Frank asked, crossing his arms. “You look like your teeth hurt.” 

“What? How did you know?” Mel asked, incredulous. 

Frank imitated her face, pursing his lips and scrunching to one side. “This is your “people yelling” face. You told me that loud screeching makes your molars hurt.”

“You remember that?” Mel felt a little smug smile form. It felt good to be known by him.

“I remember a lot of things,” he said. A beat passed before he looked down. “So, uh, Abby said that I’ve been spending a little too much time on my phone. She needs me to be more present at home.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Mel said, chewing on her lip. “Yeah, I understand.”

He looked at her for a few seconds too long, like he had something else he wanted to say but thought twice about it. Mel couldn't believe she was hoping for a well-timed ambulance to come flying in. Maybe something like a very annoying paper cut. She wished she knew what emotion her face was betraying as she tried to keep it cool. It’s not like she could argue with him about it. Abby had a point. 

Even if it felt like Mel was being punished.

“You didn't do anything wrong,” Frank said, like he could hear her thoughts.

“Is it because you drove me home?” Mel asked. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have let you.”

“No. I told you, I wanted to drive you home.” He said it in a firm, low voice. “If you need anything, you ask me. That doesn't change.”

“Okay,” Mel said. “I get it. I have to, uhh, I think I just figured out something,” she brushed past him into the hospital and scanned the room for something, anything to distract her from the sour feeling churning in her stomach.

Robby met her eye from 20 feet away and tilted his head to beckon her over. Mel still felt bad about the way Robby’s Sim died.

But at least she wasn't picturing it every time she saw him. 

Well, maybe a little. The flames and the flailing. 

She stifled a laugh before she checked in with him.

Later in her shift, Nat came down to see one of Mel’s patients in the ED, a 26-year-old female with liver disease, Paige. Nat treated her in the past. It showed in the recognition on the woman’s face through her fog. Mel appreciated the way Nat seemed to leave a positive impression on his patients. 

Nat touched the small of Mel’s back to scoot her out of the way while he talked with Paige about referring her to a hepatologist upstairs. 

“I can actually take her up,” Nat said. “If you guys are ready. He’s got time to see you in a few.”

When they walked the woman out into the ED in her wheelchair, Mel walked a few steps behind them, happy to see that the woman would get more answers than she could provide. 

“One second, Paige,” Nat said, stopping a few steps away from the charge desk. “Dr. King?”

Dana, Perlah, and Dr. Santos looked on curiously, trying to pretend they weren’t.

Mel looked up from the floor. “Yes, what do you need, Dr. Bennett?”

“Nothing. I’ll see you later for dinner?” Nat leaned down to kiss Mel on the cheek.

Mel turned her head and pressed her lips to his instead. “Yes, I’ll see you later.”

“Wait!” Paige said, looking between them. “Wait, is he your boyfriend?! Oh, that's so cute, it's like Grey’s.”

Nat grinned. “Something like that. See you later, King.”

Mel blushed and looked down. Nat was a nice guy. Maybe he didn’t get her the way she so desperately needed, but he liked her. At least enough. For now. When she looked up, Dana and Dr. Santos were looking at something behind her. Mel looked over her shoulder, knowing, of course, who was behind her. She didn’t even have to ask.

“So you and Bennett are hitting it off?” Dana asked. “I’ve always liked him. He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”

“If you like them like that,” Santos said with a tone Mel couldn’t read.

“Like them like what?” Mel asked. “Successful?”

Santos smirked. “He looks like the guy you see in stock photos who’s laughing at a bowl of salad.”

“He does not laugh at salad,” Mel protested. “That’s… I can’t even… that’s silly.”

“What do you think, Dr. Langdon?” Santos asked lazily. “Nat Bennett?”

Mel shot a look at Santos, who played innocent. The woman loved poking bears.

“Oh, yeah, he definitely laughs at salad,” he grinned at Santos, then Mel.

Mel rolled her eyes with exasperation. “He does not laugh at salad.” She huffed and left, trying to ignore everyone’s looks of amusement. 

Be the bigger person. Laugh at everyone’s jokes. Even when it was harmless ribbing, Mel still felt like she had to be the butt of the joke. She was the one who had to perpetually mask her discomfort and hurt for the sake of everyone around her. She had to be a role model. She had to give up the things she wanted. She had to be soft for everyone who gave her cold, hard angles.

She craved senseless pettiness for just once in her life. It made her feel a little like a petulant child, but she’d never really been allowed to be any kind of child.

That was the moment she decided. Mel could hold space for a little pettiness. As a treat.

The first opportunity came when Nat found her after her shift ended. Mel sat on the wall dividing the parking lot, swinging her feet against the brick as he approached. If she was correct about her timing – and she would bet a large sum she was –  the target would be leaving the building in four minutes. 

“Oh, I just saw this video and I thought you’d like it,” Mel said, offering her phone for Nat’s use. She’d queued up a three-minute video of a series of DIY gone wrong. Nat was always showing her these weird videos of people creating solutions for problems nobody had. He laughed while he held the phone, giving Mel the chance to keep watch on the exit.

“Thanks,” Nat said. “I needed that.”

Mel sank a little. “Rough day?”

“I'm ready to move on to the next chapter. What's next?” he asked.

“I have an idea,” Mel said, hoping her calculations were correct. She pulled Nat by his shirt and kissed him hungrily, like she’d been waiting for the moment all day and could no longer contain herself. Nat responded in kind, pushing himself between her legs and against the wall to get a better angle against her mouth. His tongue tasted like spearmint gum. 

Mel’s calculations and timing were correct. When Nat finally broke from their kiss and pulled away, she spotted the target walking several yards away, watching them as he passed. She kept her eyes on Nat, even though she wanted to see that look again. 

“Where are we eating tonight?” Mel asked, slipping down from the wall onto her feet.

“I thought I’d cook for you,” Nat said, putting his arm behind Mel’s back as he led her to his car. 

“Oh, that sounds great,” Mel said. “What are you making?”

 “I thought a grilled chicken Caesar salad sounded nice.”

Chapter Text

CHARLIE LANGDON: why did you want my channel name
FRANK LANGDON: My friend wanted to watch your videos
CHARLIE LANGDON: what why
FRANK LANGDON: She plays too
CHARLIE LANGDON: what did she think?

Frank didn't know what Mel thought. He would normally just text to ask her. 

But he couldn't.

To make matters worse, at work, their dynamic shifted in a way Frank hated. He was used to being so in sync with Mel that he could just know where she was. He found himself pacing the ED trying to catch a glimpse of her so he could chase her down, but she had an MS3 and MS4 trailing her every time he finally laid eyes on her. Traumas flew by with her quietly focused and more on her game than ever. She called Samira in for more cases. 

She was avoiding him. And doing great at the same time.

He hated it. Frank needed the validation of her reassuring gaze like fire needed kindling. He missed talking to her, making her laugh, making her shoulders shake when she was desperate to keep her composure. It'd only been a week, but he felt like something warm and soft had been taken from him on a cold night. He shouldn't feel like this. It made him a little queasy to think of how much more he needed her than she apparently needed him.

At least once every shift, he turned a corner to find Nat pawing at her. The heavy pang in his stomach would dissolve into acid. He just had to breathe through it and get his head on straight. Sometimes Mel would notice him, and just for that split second, relief would pass across her face like she'd gotten what she came for.

CHARLIE LANGDON: wait is your friend LadyMel2495 on yt
CHARLIE LANGDON: bc if so she left like 15 comments. they were all very supportive. lots of emojis
CHARLIE LANGDON: i didn’t think anyone watched them anymore lol
FRANK LANGDON: That’s my girl
CHARLIE LANGDON: that’s crazy lol your friends are usually dicks
FRANK LANGDON: No they’re not
CHARLIE LANGDON: nah ur right… what friends
FRANK LANGDON: 😠

It'd been a while since Frank talked to Charlie – even through text – and it made him happy to finally have something to talk to her about. They were close when they were little, but grew apart over the years and never found something to bring them back together. Go figure it would be the Sims.

“You’re weirdly quiet lately,” Dr. Shen commented a few hours later. “No comment about this being my third iced coffee since I got here?”

“Okay, I’m not the only one who noticed the vibe shift,” Donnie said. “I thought it was in my head.”

“All of this is in your head,” Frank said. “All of us. We’re all figments of your imagination.”

Donnie considered. “Sometimes I wonder.”

When he left the hospital that evening, almost exactly on time as he’d promised Abby that morning, Frank figured he should stop and get another bouquet of flowers. Probably not from the same shop. He headed to his car and slipped inside, setting back his head so he could have just a minute to himself before sliding into loving husband and father mode. Loving his children came naturally, of course. But being present, being a good Dad, being a good husband, at times they all felt less natural to him than work.

He reached to start the engine of his car, but stopped when he saw something moving in a car facing him in the next row, four down. His mouth went dry. There’s no way. He looked away, but the movement caught his attention again. A blonde braid and dark blue shirt moving up and down. A large hand splayed over her back, keeping her steady. 

The universe had an absolutely insane idea of a joke. Either that, or… she knew he’d be in his car looking in that specific direction at that exact time. Which was insane. There was no possible way that could be the case. It would have taken the kind of precision and execution that only an absolute psychopath was capable of. Full on Criminal Minds shit.

He started his car after three attempts of getting the key in the ignition because he couldn’t look away from the car four spots away. Mel turned her head. Her eyes were closed, brow furrowed, mouth slightly parted with pleasure. Fuck. He thought about the night of the fundraiser, of the pink flush spreading across her chest and the green straps of that dress crossing her back. He needed to get home.

He made it in record time and raced through the door, looking for his wife. He found her in the laundry room folding fluffy grey towels with a tank top and pajama bottoms hanging loosely from her hips.

“Hi,” Abby said, smiling at him. “How was your day?”

Frank pulled the towel from her hand and dropped it to the floor, then took Abby by the hips and pushed her against the wall, mouth descending on her like he was starving. Abby made a muffled sound of surprise and laughed into his mouth, giving into him with ease. He unbuttoned her jeans and slid down her panties before she could come up with a reason to not let him. 

After, Frank helped her fold the remaining few towels as his blood pressure returned to normal. Abby had that soft, post-sex smile she always got, her face a little red from exertion. He leaned against the washer, watching her work on some hand towels.

“My day was fine,” he said.

Abby laughed. “Yeah, I guessed.”

“I was thinking about inviting my sister down here for a visit,” he said. “What do you think about that?”

Abby looked surprised. “Charlie? I didn’t know you two were even talking.”

“We’ve been talking a little here and there,” he said. “She hadn’t seen Penny since she was born. I figured the kids would love to see her, too.”

“Okay,” Abby said. “I think we can make that work. Thanks for asking before you did it. That’s actually a really big deal.”

Frank felt a tiny blip of pride for having done something right at home. He kissed Abby’s cheek and went to find the kids and call his sister. When she picked up, she was happy to hear from him.

“Wait, you’re actually calling me? That’s dope,” Charlie said. “No one ever calls me.”

“I guess we have that in common,” Frank said. “I was actually calling to see if you wanted to come down to see the kids soon. You haven’t been here since Penny was born, so I–”

“Fuck yeah, I do!” Charlie said. “Are you kidding? I’ll get on the next bus. When can I come?”

Frank glanced over his work schedule and the calendar he shared with Abby and threw out some dates. Charlie wanted to come sooner, so he let her pick and figured they’d make it work no matter what. He said he’d run the dates by Abby and let her know later in the evening.

FRANK LANGDON: Abby is OK with next week
CHARLIE LANGDON: sweettttt, i’ll get bus tickets
CHARLIE LANGDON: btw i need to meet your sims friend
FRANK LANGDON: Sure, if you really want.
CHARLIE LANGDON: if someone u know is cool enough to play the sims then i gotta see why she’s friends with you

Frank sighed and set down his phone. His stomach churned. He missed his friend.

Chapter Text

If they kept doing this, they were bound to get caught – and not by the right person. It was inappropriate. Unprofessional. A little deviant, even. If you’d asked Mel six months ago if she saw herself potentially fucking someone on the roof of PTMC, she would have been compelled to check your mental status.

But Mel couldn’t stop if she wanted to. She needed that spark, that feeling that threaded through her whenever Frank’s eyes landed on her entangled with Nat. Every time, the electricity that thrummed through her bloodstream felt fresh. The barely perceptible twitch of his jaw and eyebrow. His hand tightening into a fist. Each tiny crack in his composure brought her just a little closer to orgasm with Nat. It didn’t happen often. Okay, maybe only a few times. But that was okay. It had always been more about Mel’s exploration than anything else. Science wasn’t really meant to feel good. And that's all this was. Strictly science.

Nat groaned into her ear and whispered that he was close. 

“Not yet,” Mel whispered, locking her hips so neither of them could move.

“Someone’s going to see us,” Nat said, a little worried. 

“Nobody comes up here this time of day,” Mel lied. “It’s just us.”

Nat kissed her, and Mel gave in and moved her hips against his. They were leaning against the brick wall encapsulating the entrance to and from the roof, Nat holding her against it with ease. Mel listened for the sound of the door, and when it finally creaked and she heard familiar scraping footsteps, she relaxed into Nat’s body, ready for the final act.

“Fuck,” Nat groaned. “I’m close again.”

Mel pushed her head back against the brick as Nat came, trying to enjoy the sensation while also hoping that the creaking she heard wasn’t a figment of her imagination. She’d know in fifteen seconds when Nat slid out of her and she could open her eyes. Nat’s breaths slowed down against her, and they pulled apart. Mel crouched to slide up her pants, but stopped when she heard Nat’s yelp.

“Ahh! Fuck!” Nat yelled.

“Oh shit, I didn’t think a–”

“Shit, fuck, where are my pants?” Nat yelled again.

Mel’s entire body cringed while Nat scrambled for the pants that were quite literally mostly still on him, pushed down just enough. She looked up as she stood and slid a look of surprise and light, appropriate embarrassment on her face when she saw Frank.

“Oh,” Mel said, looking down with faux shame. “We uh, we got a little carried away.” She laughed awkwardly and glanced up at Frank again quickly. Her heart stopped when their eyes met.

It was an expression she’d never seen before. Not the hot sear of jealousy she’d been chasing. Something soft and wounded, like a dog that didn’t understand why you left it at home all day. Her heart caught in her throat. When she looked away this time, hot shame nipped at her cheeks. Oh no. She’d miscalculated. Badly.

Frank didn’t say anything. He walked past Nat and Mel in a roundabout way, not looking at either of them.

Oh, this was bad.

“What is wrong with you?” Nat said, raising his voice as he stepped back from Mel. He took a tone she’d heard many other times from many people who'd had enough of her eccentricities. It cut through her like a hot knife through butter. Contempt. “Are you fucking insane?”

Frank’s footsteps stopped somewhere between them and the door. Mel couldn’t see where, but she wished she could. She’d locked onto the ground. This was it – the moment where she’d officially gone too far.

“I didn’t know,” Mel said quietly. “I thought we could be alone up here. I’ve never seen anyone up here in the middle of the day. Maybe I just… maybe I just haven’t come up here enough to know.” A familiar blood-rushing roar washed over her ears as she fought for control of her breathing. No, no, no. This was all wrong. Abort mission.

“Stop lying,” Nat said, his voice lower and controlled. “I knew it. I’m done. I’m not going to be part of whatever weird, twisted game you’re playing here.”

“It’s not a game,” Mel said. “I swear, it–”

“No,” Nat said, chopping the air with a hand. “I’m done. Do you understand how fucked up this is? How childish? Do you understand how sick in the head you–”

“Stop,” Frank’s voice came from nearby. “Do not talk to her like that.”

“And you? You’re just as sick as she is,” Nat spat. “You’re both insane. Does your wife know about this little game?”

“Please,” Mel whispered. “Stop. I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Nat let out a cruel, short laugh. “At least have the decency to admit it when you're caught.” He walked to the roof door without another word and left before anyone said anything else.

“Mel,” Frank said.

Mel shook her head without looking at him and darted after Nat, calling his name as pinpricks tickled her eyes. She willed away the sensation. This was up there as one of the dumbest things she’d ever done. She'd ruined everything.

“Nat, wait,” Mel called, chasing after him down the stairwell. “Please, wait.”

Nat stopped on a landing a few floors down and looked up at her. “Whatever this game is, I’m done playing it. I’m not going to be used as a proxy because you can’t fuck him. Are you serious? That guy? Of all people to debase yourself for? That arrogant narcissist? Do you even know what people say about him? About what he did? He's a fucking drug addict, Mel.”

“Please stop talking about him like that,” Mel said, gripping her hands together. “I do know.”

Nat’s face softened with disbelief. “Oh, honey. You know he's not going to leave his wife for you, right? Like you get that? You're just the thing he's been using to make himself feel better about being a complete and total loser? Fuck, I thought you were so much smarter than this, Mel. You might be a decent doctor, but you are a trainwreck of a human being. Do not follow me.” He flew down the stairwell with an air of finality.

Mel stood on the landing and pressed circles into her palm, trying to quiet the roaring in her ears.  She needed to collect herself. Her hands tightened together as she took her time going down one stair at a time every 5 seconds until she was back to the bright lights and bustling chaos of the ED approaching mid-day. With a deep breath, she threw herself into the rest of her shift, locking Nat, Frank, and the roof away in a box to open at a much later time.

Perhaps never.

Mel was ready to run out of there as soon as her shift ended, but needed to stick around until she saw the test results for the patient in Central 8. She’d leave as soon as she had them. In the meantime, she caught up with her charts and listened to the night shift nurses gabbing with the day shift nurses. She kind of enjoyed listening to them during the changing of the guards, even if she disregarded most of it as idle gossip. She learned more about what was going on than she did actually working sometimes. 

She didn’t know the pretty, pale and dark-haired woman talking to Donnie and Emma. There was something oddly familiar about the way she moved her eyebrows, but Mel couldn’t place it. The eyes, too. They were a startling blue. Why did she want this woman to look at her so badly?

“You can wait right here, I’ll find him,” Emma said. She turned to Mel. “Have you seen Dr. Langdon?”

“No. Why would I know where he is?” Mel asked, annoyance slipping through her voice.

“Well, uh…” Emma looked at someone Mel couldn't see. “You usually do. It's actually freaky sometimes.” She gave Mel an odd look and walked off, presumably to find Frank. 

“You know Dr. Langdon?” the woman asked Mel, leaning on one elbow, her dark waves spilling around her shoulders. Her voice was deep and melodic.

“I do,” Mel said, carefully. “I work with him. Here. In the place where you’re standing.”

The woman laughed. “Okay, fair. Do you like him?”

Behind the desk, Nurse Handzo snorted. 

Mel looked at the woman. Had they met? Something about her felt familiar – like the first steps in the door coming home after a long day.  

“Um. Have we met?” Mel asked, furrowing her brow. “I’m sorry, I’m not always good with faces.”

“No, we haven't,” the woman said. “I’m Charlie. So you know him? Dr. Langdon?”

“I do,” Mel said, smiling brightly. “He's a good doctor.”

“He's kind of a jerk though, right? Like he drives you crazy with the sarcasm, yeah?” Charlie’s blue eyes sparkled conspiratorially.

Mel considered and lowered her voice. “Well, I mean… sometimes he goes out of his way to make you mad because it makes him laugh and you just want to… kind of…” she made a choking motion with her hands as Charlie laughed.

“Oh, good, Mel.”

Mel’s head snapped around at his voice. Now that he was in front of her, she realized this Charlie woman looked a lot like him. 

“You've met my sister.”

Chapter Text

Frank watched Mel process the moment in real time, the calculations written across her face. She was looking at Charlie with wide-eyed surprise, a little smile forming at the corner of her mouth.

“Wait, this is Mel?” Charlie asked, excited. “My biggest fan!” 

“Oh! Yes! I loved your videos,” Mel gushed. “You made some really good legacies. You’re so good at the realistic townie makeovers, too. I went back into my save and started doing them that way, too.”

Charlie touched her heart. “Stop, you're going to make me blush.”

Frank didn't have to wait for her, but Charlie wanted to. Mel got the test results she'd been waiting for, updated Dr. Shen, and joined Frank and Charlie on their way out of the hospital. Charlie and Mel talked about whose hair mods they liked. Seeing the two of them together made a strange kind of sense. It almost made him forget about what happened a few hours before on the roof. Almost. You’re just as sick as she is. He pushed the wound closed with his mind and focused on how nice it was to have Charlie with him. 

She hadn't changed since the last time he saw her. She wore her hair the same as always, dark brown waves hitting her shoulders freely, choppy bangs cut just above her eyebrows. They both had their mom’s eyebrows. 

“I could never get him to play,” Charlie said as they approached Frank’s car. “Whole-ass nerd with zero game skills.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Frank said. 

“It was so nice to meet you,” Mel said, beaming at Charlie. “I should go, I have a bit of a walk and not enough daylight.”

“Wait, we can drive you. Right, Frankie?” Charlie said it more as a statement than a question. “I want to talk to her. She is way cooler than you.”

Frank’s eyes met Mel’s for the first time since the roof, and a deep ache thrummed through his chest. Of all the words he wanted to say to her, he couldn't believe he was about to say the next one.

“No.” It might actually kill him. “Sorry, we have to go. Don't forget to water your crops, Mel.”

“Bye, Dr. Langdon,” Mel said as she walked away, trying to hide a sad smile.

Oh. They were back to “Dr. Langdon” again. His own name, a punishment for something he didn’t even do.

Charlie looked at him like he'd just dropkicked a puppy. If they were dogs, Mel would be some kind of soft-eyed Spaniel. She’d be a cute dog.

“Does she live on the other side of town or something?” Charlie asked. “Why can't she come?”

“It’s a long story,” Frank said. “But we can’t.”

“Wait, are you not allowed to give her a ride? Why?” Charlie folded her arms.

“Come on, we should get home. The kids are dying to see you.” Frank nudged Charlie into his car. 

On the drive, he asked Charlie more of what she'd been up to after leaving law school. She'd gone into the nonprofit world. It made their parents crazy. A bonus for Charlie.

A few blocks from the house, Charlie looked at him curiously. “What did Mel mean when she said you do things because you like to see her get mad?”

Frank cleared his throat. “Oh, she's just, uhh… easy to get. It's fun. She gets all worked up and flustered.” And the little pink flush that crosses her face is addictive.

Charlie watched him, tilting her head. “Yeah, but what does that mean? What do you do?”

“Oh, I just tease her a little. You'll like this – so a while back, I helped her with her laptop, so I downloaded some Sims mods to her game. When she found out, she freaked out. It was hilarious.”

“What mod?” Charlie asked, though her hesitant tone suggested she already knew. 

"Wicked something?” Frank said. 

Charlie's mouth dropped open. “No! Holy shit, is that why you can't drive her home?! Because you downloaded a freaking sex mod onto her computer? Frankie.”

“No,” Frank laughed. “No, Abby doesn't even know about that.”

“Oh, she doesn't know you basically sent another woman porn?!” Charlie asked.

“No, it’s not like that at all,” Frank said. “It was a joke.”

“Are you for real right now? It's a mod that exists for sex. There's like thousands of add-ons for it.”

“I know, she showed me.” Frank missed getting those screenshots and the in-depth explanations and ratings of the animations. Well, the ones she sent before she swapped Sim Frank out for Sim Nat. 

“She what!?” Charlie shrieked.

“The whole reason I put it on there was because she put me in her game. I thought it would be funny.” He felt a little defensive. Mel was the one who added him to her game. With the little romance score and everything. He’d just riffed off that.

“Okay, so she’s in the game, too?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah, that was part of the joke. So when she played, and then my guy, it just, it would make her laugh.” Why was this so difficult to explain?

“You cannot be serious.” Charlie had her hand over her mouth in shock.

“What?” Frank asked as they pulled up behind an SUV at a stoplight. “Why are you freaking out?”

“You are OBLIVIOUS. Putting a sex mod in her game so her Sim would do your Sim, as a joke, is crazy. Like, warden, he’s out again level crazy.”

“It was just a joke,” Frank insisted. “A harmless one.” 

“Wait, wait, wait, okay, so then why can't you drive her home if it's not about that?” Charlie asked, her eyebrows twisting together.

“Abby just got a little frustrated by how often I texted her,” Frank said. “And I drove her home a few times. But she was right, so I stopped, and… things are better now.” They weren’t. They were much worse. But he couldn’t say that.

“Who are you trying to convince?” Charlie asked, clearly reading between the lines on his face.

Frank pulled into his parking spot and looked at his sister, already completely exasperated. This visit was supposed to be a good thing. He felt like sending her home already.

Tanner was excited to see Charlie, but Penny took some time to warm up to her. It didn't take long for the three of them to end up in a pile wrestling on the floor, though. Frank helped Abby with dinner while they played, listening to Abby recounting everything she’d done that day and who she’d seen at the grocery store.

Later, after the kids had gone to sleep, Abby, Charlie, and Frank sat in the living room catching up. 

“You stopped by the hospital when you got in?” Abby asked. “You should have come here.”

“I had to catch a glimpse of my brother being Mr. Big Shot Doctor. Still waiting on that, FYI.” 

“Go walk across the street blindfolded,” Frank suggested. “That might help.”

Charlie snorted and tossed a throw pillow at him. “But I met some of his buddies. Donnie’s kind of a babe. And Shen is funny with his cute lil’ drinky drink.”

“Don’t ever say that to him,” Frank said. “For everyone’s sake.”

“Oh, and Mel, with the glasses,” Charlie motioned like she had on a pair herself.

“Oh, you met Mel?” Abby asked, that emotionless mask on her face. “She’s a little weird, isn't she?”

Frank bit back the urge to say something. Every time Abby said something about Mel, it came across as a dig. It bothered him.

“I don’t know, she seemed nice,” Charlie said, furrowing her brow. “She liked my Sims channel.”

“How’s Nat?” Abby asked, looking at Frank.

Frank looked at the floor in spite of himself, Nat’s words coming back like a head rush. You're just as sick as she is. “Uh, oh, yeah, I think. But I haven’t really talked to her, so….”

“Wait, who’s Nat?” Charlie asked. “I didn't meet a Nat.”

“Mel’s guy,” Abby said. “Oh, here, I have a picture of them.” Abby scrolled her phone for a minute, then handed it to Charlie. “He's in a few of these.”

Frank looked over Charlie's shoulder while she scrolled the photos from Samira’s instagram as well as extras Abby took at the fundraiser. Charlie paused on the one of him and Mel on the patio. When she flipped to the one of Mel gesturing and everyone looking at her, she zoomed in on Frank’s face. She swiped to one Abby took with Mel leaning against Nat and looking just to the side of the camera with a smug smile. 

“He’s a babe,” Charlie said. “But everyone in these photos is insanely hot. These two. Goals.” She pointed to one of Jack and Samira.

“Oh it's too bad you didn't meet her,” Abby said. “I like Samira. She's smart.” She stood and yawned, signaling her intent to go to bed. Frank kissed her and patted her ass as she walked away.

Charlie was on her phone when he turned back, examining something carefully. He sat on the other side of the couch, trying to see what she was looking at. She’d pulled up the photos from Samira’s instagram. How’d she do that so fast?

“I think I figured something out,” Charlie said, swiping between the photos. 

“Congratulations,” Frank said. “We’ve been hoping this would happen one day.”

“You’re in love with her,” Charlie said, showing him the photo of Mel telling a story where he’s the only one laughing. 

“Charlie,” Frank said, making a face at his sister.

“And I’m pretty sure she’s obsessed with you, too.” She flipped the phone over, swiped, and pointed it at him again. It was the photo of them out on the patio, Mel looking at him with actual rainbows and sunshine shooting from her eyes. Frank slipped the phone from Charlie’s hand. The fundraiser felt like forever ago. He’d do anything to see her in that dress again. Or for her to look at him like that again.

A knot twisted around in his gut. He shouldn’t feel that way about someone who wasn’t Abby. But he did.

“Oh, wow. I’m right. It’s all over your face,” Charlie whispered. “Oh, Frankie.”

“There’s nothing to ‘oh Frankie’ me about,” Frank said, standing. “Stick to making up stories with your Sims.”

“Before you write this off,” Charlie insisted. “Will you look at one more thing?” She opened her message thread with Frank and scrolled back. “Look at what you said when I asked you if the person commenting on my videos was Mel?”

That’s my girl.

Frank shut his eyes tight. “This is confirmation bias.” He needed her to stop talking. Saying “that's my girl” didn't mean he was in love with Mel King. He thought it all the time. Since their first shift together, when he found her in the lounge sitting with the dog. He’d been happy she actually listened to him and took the break. Getting her to take care of herself was still a challenge.

“Okay,” Charlie said, putting up her hands in surrender. “If you say that I’m wrong, then I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong,” Frank said. “And I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

“Wait,” Charlie said before he left the living room. “I’m not judging you. I promise.”

Before he drifted to sleep, Frank opened his messages with Mel. There had been three exchanges since Abby asked him to stop talking to her so much. All about work. He scrolled back to see all of the messages from before, though he'd always deleted the pictures she sent right after receiving them, along with the descriptions she’d written out.

Hey, just wanted to check in after what happened today
Hey, hope you're doing okay after today
You doing okay after earlier
You okay?

He tapped the backspace to clear out the message and set his phone back down. No, he had to stay focused on what he had in front of him. 

Even if it felt like ignoring the Cocker Spaniel in the room.

Chapter Text

I’m sorry for what happened on the roof today, that wasn’t supposed to happen.
I’m sorry about the roof, I didn’t mean for that to happen
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to see that earlier
I’m sorry.

Mel sighed and erased the last message. Nothing sounded right. Maybe because she’d always been a terrible liar. It was supposed to happen. She’d planned it down to the minute, just like every other time. The thing that wasn’t supposed to happen was the look of hurt on Frank’s face and her miscalculation of Nat Bennett’s willingness to participate in a little light exhibitionism. As it turned out, the roof was too far enough.

Besides, Frank didn’t want her apologies. He’d barely been able to look at her when she met his sister, and the look he gave her when he said “no” to driving her home was that abandoned puppy look all over again. Each one of the looks he gave her that day would haunt her for a long time.

Mel stretched across her couch, putting her hands behind her head and looking at the ceiling of her apartment. She’d completely ruined things with Nat, and she couldn’t unhear the things he’d said to her in the stairwell.

Do you even know what people say about him?

Of course she knew. It was unavoidable. She’d heard it in the ten months that he was gone, and for weeks after his return. Everyone had to weigh in on what they thought he’d really done, what he deserved because of it, how different he was now that he was back, and a million other things. It’d been difficult for her to keep her mouth shut every time someone said something judgmental about him. In the months since his return, Mel thought things had gotten better. She noticed fewer lingering, assessing looks from people in the ED. People weren’t tiptoeing around him nearly as often. Then again, people didn’t talk about him when she was in the room with them. She noticed that early on.

It was Nat’s unsaid implication that had her stomach churning.

Do you know what they'll say about you?

Mel clamped her eyes shut and took a deep breath, ready to try to move on with the rest of her evening. She needed to catch up on medical journals. Before she could sit up, her phone buzzed.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: is this mel?
MEL KING: Yes, but who is this?
UNKNOWN NUMBER: charlie. frank gave me your #
MEL KING: Hi! I’m so happy to hear from you!
CHARLIE LANGDON: should i be a streamer?
MEL KING: I don’t know. It seems hard. But I bet people would like you!
CHARLIE LANGDON: maybe i’ll try it
MEL KING: Tell me when and if I can, I’ll try to support you! I don’t really watch streamers but I would watch you.
CHARLIE LANGDON: stop ur literally so sweetttttt

Well, at least one of the Langdons still liked her.

By the time her next shift rolled around, Mel was ready to put it all behind her and focus on being the best doctor she could be. Nat had one thing wrong – she was more than a decent doctor. She’d allowed herself far too many distractions over the past few weeks, and it was time for a course correction.

She nabbed the MS3 she’d worked with before, earlier in her rotation, and looked for a case that would allow her to teach her something useful. There were a number of cold injuries from the weather that’d descended over the region and wouldn’t leave. Good timing. Something to focus on.

A few hours into her shift, she finally came face-to-face with Frank at the charge desk. He was talking to Dana and Perlah about one of his patients, and glanced over at Mel as she approached. 

“Don’t let him trick you,” Frank said to Perlah. “He’s crafty. Hey, Mel.”

Mel smiled politely at him. “Good morning, Dr. Langdon. How are you?”

Behind him, Dana and Perlah exchanged a confused look. 

“Great, thanks for asking,” Frank said. “Dana, let me know if he gives you guys any trouble.” He walked off, nodding at Mel once.

Perlah looked at Mel curiously. “What was that?”

“No ‘water your crops’ today?” Dana asked. “No jalapenos? No weird thing only you two get?”

Mel’s mouth pressed into a flat line. “No, not today.”

Perlah and Dana exchanged another look, and Perlah put her hand out towards Mel.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Is everything okay?”

Mel shrugged with exaggerated depth. “I don’t know. Is there something going on? Oh, is that South 17’s tox screen?” She reached for it. “Thanks.”

“Mel,” Dana said. “You good?

“I’m fine,” Mel said. “I’m just really focused today.” She forced a smile and looked over the tox screen. Phencyclidine. Interesting, given the patient was a 47-year-old soccer mom who said her biggest vice was a glass of wine and a hand rolled cigarette every Friday night. But it did explain the nystagmus and drooling. 

When she entered South 17, the woman was hugging her knees and rocking her head back and forth. Mel slipped onto the stool.

“Ms. Nowak, I have your test results. There’s something I need to talk to you about. Are you familiar with Phencyclidine?”

“No.” The woman rolled her head around against her knees.

“It’s commonly referred to as PCP. You’ve tested positive for it in your system. Do you know how that happened?”

“No I haven’t,” the woman balked at Mel. “I’ve never done anything like that. You're lying. You're a liar.”

Well, yes. But never about PCP.

Chapter Text

Frank shook his head. “No, she can’t come.”

“You didn’t even ask her,” Charlie said. “I’ll ask her if you won’t. Hey, Mel!” she waved at Mel, who was walking past them to her locker. 

“Charlie!” Mel said with excitement. “Oh, I didn’t know you were still here!” She bounced on her heels to hug Charlie. 

Frank’s heart swelled at how happy Mel was to see his sister, even if it hurt a little that she was happier to see Charlie than him. When was the last time she’d been that excited to see him? 

“You have to come to dinner with us,” Charlie said, grabbing Mel’s arm. “Right now.”

“Right now?” Mel glanced at Frank. “Um, are you sure? Is that okay?”

“He doesn’t get a say,” Charlie said, motioning quickly. “I’m starving. He’s buying.”

“Classic combination,” Frank said. He had the power to say ‘no’ here, but he couldn’t bring himself to. 

Mel hurried up at her locker and tossed on her coat, then followed the siblings out of the hospital. When they got to Frank’s car, Mel tried to slip into the back, but Charlie nudged her up front. 

“I like it in the back,” Charlie said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Oh, come on,” Frank said, gagging and laughing. “What is wrong with you?”

Mel sat in the passenger seat, but turned around immediately to face Charlie. “What have you been doing while you’ve been here?”

“Mostly hanging out with the kids. They’re so cool. It makes me miss being young. Do you have any siblings?”

“I have a sister, Becca.” Mel whipped out her phone and showed Charlie a picture. “She’s my best friend.”

Once again, it felt strangely right to have them together like this, and Frank didn’t understand why. Mel faced the front as they drove, but as soon as they pulled to a stop light, she turned to face Charlie again, her hand on Frank’s seat.

Charlie picked a sandwich shop with oversized soft pretzels hanging in the window and dragged them inside. When they sat, Charlie made a point to sit next to Mel so Frank faced the two of them. 

“I’m leaving tomorrow, so I wanted to see you again, since you are by far the coolest person I’ve met since I’ve been here. Over the age of six, at least. Pittsburgh is not a destination.”

“Oh,” Mel said, smiling at the table with her hands folded together. “Thank you. I’m glad I made the list.”

“So did anyone pull a bomb out of someone’s body today?” Charlie asked. “Or cut someone’s LVAD wire?”

“What?! No, why would someone do that?!” Mel asked, startled.

“To save Denny,” Charlie said. “Duh.”

“Wait, who’s Denny?” Mel asked, looking between Charlie and Frank.

“The guy from the restaurant,” Frank said, like it was a ridiculous question. “Denny’s? You don’t know about Denny’s?”

“You’ve never had a Grand Slam?” Charlie asked, incredulous.

“She’s never had the nacho boat,” Frank said. “I can’t believe it.”

Mel squinted at him, tightening her lips before a small smile popped through. “You’re joking. I think.”

Charlie cackled, nudging Mel. “Okay you're right, that actually is kind of fun.”

“Oh no, I don’t think I can take it from both sides,” Mel said, ducking.

Frank pleaded with his eyes for Charlie to not say a word about the incredible set-up Mel just handed them. Charlie bit back a laugh and shook her head.

“Thank you for the sandwich, Dr. Langdon,” Mel said when their sandwiches arrived.

Again with Dr. Langdon. Every time she said it was a knife’s tip between his ribs. He looked at his hands, pushing away the memory of that awful moment on the roof, the yelling, and Mel chasing Nat down the stairwell when he had just been served the gut punch. 

As they ate, Charlie kept cracking them both up. She talked about the nonprofit law center she worked for, and her tabby cat Alejandro back home. Frank didn't want Charlie to leave in the morning, but she had to get back to Montreal. He'd have to get her to come a few times a year. 

Charlie excused herself to the restroom after finishing her meal. It was the first time Frank and Mel had been alone in a while.

“Did you have a good rest of your shift?” Mel asked, looking at him with the same genuine interest as the very first time she'd asked.

“Yeah, it was fine,” Frank said. “Robby actually said something conversational to me.”

“Really?” Mel asked. “That's a good sign.”

“Only took seven months.” Frank put his head in his left hand. “I just want to be able to stop walking on eggshells around him.”

“I think you'll get there,” Mel said softly. “But I can see how hard it is for you to keep facing his rejection. Don't let Robby’s approval overshadow your own. You are Dr. Frank Langdon, and that means something.”

Frank and Mel’s eyes met, and a light flush pooled across her cheeks. She glanced at his lips and looked down, a little awkward laugh escaping from her throat. He was about to ask her about Becca when his phone buzzed with a call from Abby. 

“Hey, dear. What's up?” He cringed. When was the last time he called her that? Had he ever? It slipped out so easily.

“Are you guys coming home anytime soon?” Abby asked. “The kids want to watch a movie with Charlie and it's getting late.”

“We’ll probably leave soon. We’ll probably get home in half an hour? Maybe forty-five minutes?”

“Okay, well… don’t stay out too late. The kids really want to spend some time with their aunt. Drive safe.”

Frank set down his phone and looked at the two women before him, excitedly talking about some other game about farming. Charlie looked at him from the corner of her eye.

“All good?” Charlie asked.

He nodded a little. “We should get going. The kids want to watch a movie with you.”

When they got to his car, Mel stood awkwardly to the side, her hands wrapped together. “Um, I can walk from here. It's really okay.”

“What? Don't be ridiculous, get in,” Charlie said. “We’re not letting you walk home in the dark.”

“No, it's, I don't want to cause any trouble. I've already – I've just, and I know, but it's just that, and–”

He couldn't watch her spinning out like this. Even if it was a little cute.

“Mel,” Frank said, lowering his voice. “I want to drive you home. I've got you.”

Mel nodded at the ground, twisting her mouth to the side. She got into the passenger's seat and sank down with a little pout, hands still entwined. Charlie kept the discussion lively on the drive to Mel’s. When they got there, the girls hugged each other and Charlie promised to let Mel know when she was going to try streaming. Frank nodded goodnight like he'd been chaperoning them at the mall.

“Mel seemed kind of awkward. Does she know Abby said you can’t be friends?” Charlie asked as she slid into the passenger seat.

“It's not that. Or it's not just that,” Frank said. “It’s been weird between us. The day you got here, something kind of… weird happened, and I think she–”

“Back up. What?” Charlie asked. 

It wouldn't hurt for him to have one person he could talk to about all of this.

“I walked in on her and Nat up on the roof. Uh, having sex. I think she wanted me to find them. Nat thought so, too. He was awful to her, and she ran after him while I was just standing up there wondering why it kept happening.”

“Wait, it happened more than once?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah. I kept running into them when they were making out, or hooking up in his car that's just magically four spots down from mine.” 

“Oh, shit,” Charlie’s voice trailed off. “She's trying to make you jealous.”

“Why would she do that?” Frank asked. 

“You know how you keep saying she's easy to get?” Charlie asked. “You're the same, I fear.”

“I don't think that's true.” As Frank drove them home, he remembered what he'd seen the first night when he had Mel’s laptop. The characteristics she assigned to Sim Frank. Ambitious, competitive, and… jealous. Shit.

“So, okay, if that's not true, tell me, how did you feel when you saw them?” Charlie asked.

“I didn't feel anything,” he lied. How could he describe the feeling? Like salt on a gaping wound.

“See, but I know that's not true. Because you just said–”

“We shouldn't talk about this anymore,” Frank snapped. They were getting too close to something soft and small that he needed to protect.

“Okay,” Charlie said, looking at him. “We don't have to.”

At home, the kids pulled Charlie into the living room to pile onto a blanket and some pillows to finish watching the movie with them. Abby kissed Frank on the cheek and pulled him to the kitchen, where she motioned for him to empty the dishwasher. It was her least favorite chore, and the one of the few she reserved for him. 

“How was your day?” Abby asked.

“Not bad,” Frank slipped out the silverware and started divvying up the forks and spoons.

“Where did you guys go?” Abby asked, tidying up the counter. “Forty-five minutes is a long drive for dinner.”

Frank tensed as he stacked cups. “Charlie asked Mel to come with us, so we had to drive her home.”

Abby froze mid-swipe of the sponge. “You took her to dinner with your sister? And then drove her home. Again?”

“Come on, I wasn’t going to have her walk home in the dark by herself.” What kind of a person would he be if he did that?

“Why does she even know Charlie in the first place?” Abby asked. “She’s someone you work with.”

“They have some things in common,” Frank said defensively. “I showed Mel some of Charlie’s old Sims videos and they ended up hitting it off.”

“You told me you were taking Charlie to dinner just the two of you,” Abby said. “You made a whole thing about it.”

“I’m the one who asked.” Charlie appeared behind them both in the kitchen. “I didn't think it was a big deal.”

Abby pressed her lips into a thin line. “It's fine. He should have said no. That's not on you.”

Frank eyed Charlie, willing her not to say anything to make the stand-off worse. Charlie grabbed a glass of water and left the room, looking over her shoulder with concern. 

“I’m going to ask you again,” Abby said, carefully. “Please stop finding reasons to see that girl outside of work. The kids were waiting for you guys that whole time.”

Frank nodded. “I hear you. I’m sorry.” He didn’t find the reasons. They kept finding him. 

In the morning, Frank drove Charlie to the bus station, where she would hop a Greyhound for a long ride home to Montreal. They’d grown up taking buses to and from Ontario, and the long rides became second nature along the way. He’d studied for hours on those things.

“I'm really glad you came,” Frank said. “We have to have you down here more often.”

“I'm down,” Charlie said. “Sorry I got you in trouble.”

Frank grunted. “It's fine. You didn’t do anything. She’s right. I could have said no.”

“What are you going to do?” Charlie asked. 

“Apologize,” he said. “It’s all I can do.”

Charlie watched him as they pulled into the bus station. They hugged after he pulled her luggage from the back of the car. 

“I need to say something,” Charlie said. “And I want you to listen to me.”

Frank sighed. “What?”

“The way that you look at Mel, the way you talk about her, the way you are with her? I have never seen you like that before. Ever. And the idea of you not having that in your life makes me so fucking sad for you. You are like a completely different person with her. Softer. Playful.”

“What am I supposed to do with that?” Frank asked. 

“I don't know,” Charlie said. “But I don't think there's any way this ends where someone doesn't get hurt. I’m just saying that it doesn't have to be you.” Charlie hugged him again before she grabbed her luggage and headed inside.

The problem was, Frank didn’t want anyone to get hurt. More than they already had.

Chapter Text

Mel listened to Samira practicing her presentation for the third time. She loved listening to the way Samira explained things. It was one of her favorite things about her. Samira would be good at those weird instructional videos Nat liked.

“Thank you for your time. Okay, time,” Samira said. “How long was that?”

“Seven minutes,” Mel said, frowning. “It’s gotten longer.”

Samira shut her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “I’m getting derailed every time I start talking about the methodology. I can feel it happening in the moment. But there’s no way for me to cut that out entirely.” Her shoulders fell. “It’s a week away. Between this and the workshop, I’m popping Pepto Bismol like breath mints.”

“Do you want to take a break?” Mel asked. “You’ve been going at this non-stop for hours. You’re not even supposed to be here today.” Neither was she, for that matter. 

Samira sighed. “I know. But I tried working on this at home, and I kept getting distracted. At least the conference rooms here are devoid of any warmth. It makes it easier.”

“Is Dr. Abbott ready for your workshop?” Mel asked, hoping shifting the conversation just slightly would give Samira some semblance of a break since she wouldn’t take one willingly herself.

“He is,” Samira said. “But he’s really just doing it so he has something to do. And because he likes Denver. He’s trying to get me to go snowboarding with him while we’re there. For all of two days. I don’t know how he thinks that’s going to work.”

“It’s still nice that he’s helping you,” Mel said. “He really likes you.” She didn’t know why saying that made her feel so bad. Even a little jealous. 

“What happened with you and Bennett?” Samira asked. “I haven’t seen him sniffing around in a while.”

Mel deflated. “He broke it off. He wasn’t… happy with the way things were going between us.” Turns out, Nat wasn’t actually up for Mel’s kind of research.

Samira made a face. “Sorry, that sucks. You guys looked good together.”

When Nat came down to the ED the first time after their blow up on the roof, he was polite and cordial to Mel. It’s exactly what she expected from him. Professional, courteous, and measured. It’s what she’d liked about him in the first place. That and the fact that he’d noticed her at all. If she hadn’t been so caught up in the one-sided game she played with Frank, she might have avoided fumbling things. Even if he never seemed like he was that interested in anything she had to say, at least he was someone. Someone who wasn’t married. She couldn’t believe she’d gotten herself so wrapped up in that. It wasn’t like her at all.

“It’s okay,” Mel said. “Things work out the way they’re supposed to.”

“Help me find a way to stop derailing myself around the methodology,” Samira said, returning her focus to her poster presentation. “Snap your fingers or something if I’m getting off track.”

Mel started the timer again and listened, but struggled to keep paying attention. They’d been at it for hours. She could do the presentation for Samira at that point.

When they finally reached the conclusion that she would have to cut something else to keep it under five minutes, they took a break and left the conference room to get a breath of fresh air outside. On their way downstairs, they ran into Robby, who was, as always, looking for someone.

“Dr. Mohan, Dr. King, what are you two doing here on your days off?” he asked. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m working on my presentation for SAEM,” Samira said. “I’m not working clinically.”

“I’m just helping her,” Mel said.

Robby shrugged. “Your choice. But there are libraries you could use. Don’t be here more than you need to. You both deserve the chance to step away once in a while. Dr. Mohan, did you talk to Jack this morning?”

“No,” Samira said. “We missed each other by an hour. Why?”

Robby looked away. “You might want to talk to him. We have a problem with the schedule for the next two weeks with Shen being out for his wife’s surgery. Admin had to make some changes. We can’t have both–”

“Are you kidding?” Samira asked. “Please tell me you’re kidding. The whole workshop, it–”

Robby held up his hand. “It’s out of my hands. I thought he would have told you right away. But, look, we can get you someone else to assist you. I know it won’t be the same, but we do want to make sure you get the chance to run the workshop.”

Samira groaned as Robby left, and turned to Mel. “This has to be a joke. I’ve been working on this workshop with him for months.”

“I’m already going,” Mel said. “Do you think I can help?”

Samira shook her head. “I wish. It has to be a man. Why did I do that to myself? Never make it so you need to rely on a man. Ugh.”

“Maybe you could get Whitaker to help?” Mel asked.

“He might be useful. If Robby will let him go long enough. I’ll ask. Thanks. Okay, well, with that in mind, do you mind if we head back? I might need to tweak some things now.”

Mel followed Samira back up the stairs, wishing they’d taken the elevator instead.

Chapter Text

In Charlie’s absence, without anything to bring them together with a smile, Frank and Mel slid back to that awkward place they'd been before the visit. She avoided him at the hospital until patient care was involved. Dana, Perlah, and Princess kept asking him what happened whenever they'd catch an awkward moment between them. Even Robby and Abbott had something to say when they witnessed a series of missed joke opportunities dissolve between them.

“What’s up with you and Dr. King?” Abbott had asked. “You’re being weird. In a new way.”

Frank shrugged. “I think she’s just more comfortable around here now, so she doesn’t need me as much. It’s a good thing.”

Robby watched him appraisingly. “You don’t believe that.”

Frank avoided eye contact. It was true. He missed his friend. Her exuberant reassurance, her enthusiastic hunger for learning new techniques. Her bright smile. The way she looked at him like he was the only person in every room. 

The worst thing was the way he lost track of her. Knowing where she was came naturally to him, like she had a homing beacon that only responded to him. But after the thin layer of ice formed between them, he found himself searching every room for a honey wheat braid and coming up empty. He couldn't do anything when he finally found it. Just knowing where it was made him feel better.

The frustration built around him like a toxic cloud, and a crankiness emerged not unlike the one that used to follow him around when withdrawal kicked in. It wasn't right. He’d even snapped at Abby twice for no good reason. All she’d been doing was asking him about work and prying into his clipped answers. He tried to reconnect with what he’d learned in rehab about managing his emotions, his expectations of himself and the people around him, but nothing worked. He found himself agitated even at his morning NA meetings, where he’d previously found them to be exactly what he needed to keep his head on straight.

Robby found him close to the end of one of his shifts and placed himself between Frank and a doorway. “Dr. Langdon, a word?”

Frank followed Robby to a temporarily empty room. What did he do wrong this time?

“How do you feel about traveling to Denver for SAEM next week?” Robby asked.

“Uhh, I wasn’t planning on it, if that’s what you’re asking,” Frank said.

“Do you think you can manage it? With Abby and the kids? Jack’s out, and we need someone to support Dr. Mohan’s workshop. We’ll fund it, but you have to make the travel arrangements.”

Frank considered. Maybe getting out of Pennsylvania for a few days would be able to help him get into a better mindset. He’d never been to Colorado, but the state was always listed as one of the places with the happiest locals. “Sure. Yes, I’ll go.”

Robby looked at him carefully. “Really? You don’t need to think about it?”

“No,” Frank said. “I’m in. Just send me the details.”

“Thank you, Frank.” Robby said. “This helps a lot of people.”

Frank nodded, happy that he was able to do something good for someone he worked with for a change instead of driving them up a wall. Helping Samira would be exactly what he needed to shake himself out of the funk.

When he got home, he realized why Robby had asked him if he needed to think about it. He hadn’t considered checking with Abby before agreeing. Shit. He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and leaned against the fridge. 

“So… I got some strange news today,” Frank said, for lack of a better way to start a conversation that would most likely end with yelling. “Robby volunteered me to go to a conference next week.”

Abby stopped chopping the bell peppers. “Seriously? For how long?”

“Just a couple of days. It’s in Denver.” Frank winced. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Abby’s face pinched. “You can’t get out of it?”

“I tried,” Frank said. “Abbott was supposed to go, but we’re having some staffing issues in the ED. He’s stuck there because Shen’s out for family shit. It’s for that workshop Samira was talking about.”

“Oh,” Abby said, nodding. “I remember you guys talking about that. Well… maybe it’ll be good for you?”

“Yeah?” Frank asked. “Okay.” This was easier than he expected.

“I mean… you’ve kind of been stressed lately,” Abby continued. “You’ve been a little short with me.”

Frank hated how transparent he was. “I’m sorry. I think it’s just the staffing shit at work,” he lied. “Everyone’s going a little crazy.”

“So maybe being able to get away from all of that for a few days might help you reset and come back with a better attitude.” Abby dumped the chopped veggies into a heated stainless steel pan. “Which would be nice for all of us. Plus, my mom’s been trying to find a reason to come here for a few days. It’ll be nice.”

Frank furrowed his brow. He did not expect Abby to be delighted about the idea of him leaving. He watched her cook for a few more minutes, then went to find his kids. At least they’d be less likely to be happy about the idea of him leaving. 

After the kids were in bed, Abby and Frank sat on the couch watching a new show. This one was some reality show with a group of people in a Scottish castle. The host dressed like his aunt Lorraine, but better. He didn’t really get the show, but it was better than the medical mystery.

CHARLIE LANGDON: this is crazy but i miss hanging out w you and mel. 
CHARLIE LANGDON: like i don’t miss you, i miss both of you together.
FRANK LANGDON: You’ll have to come back to see her sometime.
CHARLIE LANGDON: what if i move there
FRANK LANGDON: You do not want to move to Pittsburgh.
CHARLIE LANGDON: idk pittsburgh has nonprofits too
FRANK LANGDON: Sleep on it. For a few years.

He didn’t want to admit how much he actually liked the idea of having Charlie closer. But he’d never forgive himself if she moved out of somewhere like Montreal for Pittsburgh.

Abby glanced over at him, worry creased on her small forehead. “Who are you texting?”

Frank flipped the phone over to show his thread with Charlie. “Just Charlie. Why?”

“Nothing,” Abby said, shaking her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t talk to Mel anymore,” Frank said. “Like you asked.” At home or at work. 

“I never said you had to stop talking to her at work,” Abby said softly. “I know how your job works. You have to work with everyone, all the time.”

“I know,” Frank said. “It’s just easier this way.”

Easier for who, Frank didn’t know. It wasn’t easy for him at all.

Chapter Text

Mel King did not like flying. She’d avoided it for most of her life, which she wasn’t sure helped or hurt. If she flew more often, she might get used to it. But where would she even go? It felt strange to step onto the plane knowing Becca wasn’t going to be in the same place she was. She’d gone over the emergency plans with Middle Hill several times. She would still check in when she landed in Denver. 

It was a three and a half hour flight, and she had the window seat. Samira left for Denver the night before out of an abundance of caution. Jack was supposed to have taken the aisle seat, but with him no longer going, Mel figured Whitaker would show up eventually. She liked him. He had a softness to him that most of her other coworkers lacked. Mel took her seat near the middle of the plane and got herself situated, running the list of what she’d downloaded for the trip. She chewed at her lip, deciding which way to go. Serious medical podcast or one of the audiobooks she’d downloaded. She slipped open her window to peek outside and winced at the wall of bright light before shutting it again.

“Oh. Mel.”

Mel looked up to see Frank. “What are you doing here?” Blood rushed to her face and she looked behind him with confusion. He wore a black quarter zip and dark pants, plus his Penguins cap. It was always a little strange seeing him in street clothes.

“This is, uh, my seat.” He slipped his carry on in storage and sat, patting his thighs as he ducked into his seat. “Uh, hi.”

“So Whitaker’s not coming.” She'd mentally prepared for that. Not this. She did not like surprises. Especially ones that looked at her like that.

“No, just me,” Frank said with a cautious air. “Taking over for Jack.”

Mel’s lips flattened to a line. “Mmm. Have you been to Denver before?”

“I have not,” Frank said. “Have you?”

“No,” Mel said. “I don’t really… like flying.” She looked down. This was one of those moments that told her a lot about the person she was talking to.

“Oh,” Frank said softly. “Yeah, I get that. My mom’s a rough flyer, too.”

“It’s the take-off and landing. And if there’s ever any turbulence.” Mel shut her eyes and breathed in slow and deep. “But I’ll be fine. I’m sure.” If she just kept telling herself that, it'd surely be true.

A middle-aged woman stood over them with a pillow in hand. “I'm in the middle.”

Frank looked at her, then Mel. “Here, why don't you take the aisle?” He lifted the arm rest and scooted over, pressing against Mel in the process. She wasn't used to smelling him in a context other than being at or just having been at the hospital. He smelled good. Clean. Cozy. Warm. Damnit. 

“This okay?” Frank asked only after he stopped moving. 

“I don't know,” Mel said. “Is it?” She let the implication hang.

When the doors shut and the plane began taxiing, Mel pressed the heels of her hands together, pressed heavy circles in her palm, and shut her eyes. Then came the worst part, the moment the engines roared to life. The one consolation was that no one could hear her humming to herself over the noise. 

A warm hand covered hers and squeezed. “Relax. I’ve got you,” Frank murmured in her ear. “You’re safe.”

The hair on Mel’s neck stood at attention, sending a chill ricocheting through her body. She was afraid to open her eyes for a new reason. Frank slipped a thumb between her hands and pressed it in light circles that tingled down in her toes. 

He had the pressure wrong. It wasn't regulating her. It was turning her on. Between his low voice and breath in her ear, his scent, and the thumb, Mel was, at the very least, distracted from the plane speeding down the runway and taking off into the sky. So, in a sense, it worked. Her mind went to the same place as always, an apartment lot in San Myshuno. There was no way her face wasn’t the shade of pink lemonade.

Once she figured the plane was probably going to be okay, Mel opened her hands, releasing Frank’s thumb, and tapped her phone, showing the cover of the book she had queued, The Favorites. She popped in her right earbud and closed her eyes, hoping the book would keep her mind off the way she couldn’t escape Frank’s scent. Why did he have to smell like that?

An hour into the flight, Mel caught Frank wincing as he adjusted his hips in the tiny seat, trying to make himself smaller. Oh. His poor back. He shouldn’t have switched seats. She lifted the dividing arm rest between them to give him more room and leaned her head against the window. 

“What are you listening to?” Frank asked, tapping her phone. 

“A book about ice skaters. It’s a partial retelling of Wuthering Heights.” Mel usually preferred historical novels or light fantasy, but it came recommended by Victoria Javadi, who was one of the only non-animal accounts she followed on Tiktok. She liked it so far. 

Frank held out his hand. “I love Wuthering Heights.”

Mel suppressed a laugh at the lack of an ask and handed him the left earbud. Frank popped it in and shut his eyes, wincing again as he adjusted in the seat. His right leg pressed against Mel’s. She tried her best to ignore it.

Two hours into the flight, Frank leaned across her to slide up the window shade and peek outside. Mel flattened herself against her seat and took in a sharp breath – with it, another hit of his scent. He pushed himself back using her thigh as leverage, and leaned his shoulder against hers. Was he doing it on purpose? Was this payback? No, of course it wouldn’t be payback. 

“I’m glad this guy dies,” Frank said, referring to the older brother.

Mel suppressed another laugh. “Right?”

Frank absentmindedly reached over and took the end of Mel's hoodie string between his fingers and rolled it up and down into a snail-like coil. It was the exact kind of fidgeting she was used to from him, but felt completely different out of the setting of the hospital. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, trying to hide her smile. It meant something, at least, that he was comfortable enough with her to just assume she wouldn't slap the string out of his hand.

An hour outside of Denver, the plane rocked, and the ‘fasten seatbelt’ light blinked on as the pilot announced that they would be encountering turbulence on the way into the city, but that it would not delay their landing. Mel’s stomach churned and she clamped her eyes shut. Because of course. It’d been too easy. She felt Frank’s eyes on her and tried not to think about the face she must have been making. Her heart rate was already out of control.

“Take my hand,” he said as the plane rocked again.

Mel felt his hand envelop hers and squeeze. 

“Use it however you need,” he said. “Your in-flight stress toy.”

Mel’s face heated as she raised her eyebrows, fighting a little smirk. She considered calling his bluff on however you need but didn’t feel like ending up on the no-fly list. Then again, that could prevent her from needing to ever fly again. 

While the plane got knocked around for the remainder of the flight, Mel kept a tight grip on Frank’s hand, squeezing it whenever they hit a particularly rough patch. He squeezed back every time the plane evened out, and didn’t let go until the plane reached the terminal. Mel felt like she’d shut her eyes shut so tightly they should have popped.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, shaking out her hand. “Whew. That was rough.”

“But you made it,” he said, pulling out his phone. 

As Mel’s phone reconnected to the cellular network, it buzzed with a series of texts from Samira. Her heart sank as she read them.

SAMIRA MOHAN: Call me when you land
SAMIRA MOHAN: My team canceled the hotel bc I said I’d stay with my cousin
SAMIRA MOHAN: I’m so sorry
SAMIRA MOHAN: I’ll pay you back

Chapter Text

In Frank’s defense, there were no rooms left at the hotel. What else was he supposed to do? He wasn’t going to let Mel get stuck at one of the hotels miles away from the conference. He’d just let her take the bed and he’d suck up the pain from the floor. The airplane seat had been a minor form of torture. But it was just for a few days. He could make it through that okay.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Mel asked when they got into the room. It was small, but came with a decent view of the Rocky Mountains at a distance. The sky was incredibly blue, which was a little disorienting. It was freezing outside.

The question Mel wasn’t asking: How much is Abby going to kill you if she finds out about this?

Abby didn’t need to know. 

“We’ll both be busy,” Frank said, dropping his duffel on the armchair. “It’s fine. You don’t need to waste your time running around looking for somewhere to sleep.”

“Thank you,” Mel said. “I’ll try to stay out of your hair.”

Frank sat as he rifled through his duffel to find his phone charger. Abby packed for him, like she always did. He never knew where anything was, but he also never needed to run out and buy overpriced travel toiletries or a pack of cheap drugstore socks. It was the kind of thing he knew he took for granted. He watched Mel neatly organize her things in stacks on the bed and then review the schedule for the conference with a twist to her mouth. 

“What’s on your list today?” he asked. He’d really only come to help Samira, but signed up for a few extras regardless. It wasn’t his money.

“Clinical Images, posters, the Airway Skills workshop, and Samira wants me to join her at the reception.” Mel took in a deep, slow breath and patted her thighs. “I haven’t been to a conference like this before. I’m not sure how I’m going to handle this.”

“You’ll be okay,” Frank said. “Did you eat anything before the flight?”

“No, I don’t need to eat a lot.” Mel pulled her face away from her phone screen. “I’ll eat later.”

Frank dug into the side pocket of his duffel and unearthed a handful of protein bars. He tossed one to Mel, who dodged it like it was coming for her face. 

“Eat that,” Frank said. “Before you go.”

Mel made a face as she picked up the protein bar. “I’m fine.”

“And drink some water when you’re down there.”

Mel gave him a strange look, but picked off pieces of the bar and ate them as she got ready to leave. It was like watching a squirrel.

After Mel cleared out, Frank checked in with Abby. He hated Facetime, but he figured she’d enjoy seeing his view of the Rocky Mountains. He held up the phone and turned until he got a good angle. 

“Hey, did you get in okay?” Abby asked as she answered. 

“Little bit of turbulence at the end, but nothing bad. It really is beautiful here. It’s like 20 degrees but it’s sunny so you’d never know.” He turned around to show her the view out the window. 

“Wow, that is nice,” Abby said. “Thanks for letting me know you got there safely.”

“Yeah, of course,” Frank said, moving around the room and sitting down on the couch with the bed behind him. “Can I say hi to the kids?”

“They’re both down for a nap,” Abby said, frowning slightly. “What bag is that on the bed?”

Shit. Frank looked behind him at a light blue Jansport with white daisies all over it. Ahh, not even an hour into his secret mission and he already fumbled the codes. 

“Oh, that’s for the workshop,” Frank lied. “Samira dropped it off for me just before I called. I’m really just here to be the pack mule.”

Abby laughed. “Well, I’ll let you go. Have fun.” They hung up, and Frank looked around at the room. He’d have to remember to put Mel’s things out of sight if he Facetimed Abby again. Or he should just stick to calls.

Frank made his way to the conference and remembered just how much he disliked conferences to begin with. Particularly this one. The workshops and presentations were interesting, sure. But he was not very invested in the academic side of medicine. Teaching, yes. The rest of it, not so much.

But the Airway Skills workshop was at least a good use of his time. He’d signed up for it when registering for the conference, and found his way to the hall where it was being held. He slid into the back of the room and sat after introducing himself to a handful of people. Mel was seated up towards the front of the room with Samira, both of them talking animatedly with a group of people. He hadn’t realized until then that Mel wasn’t wearing her hair in a braid. It hung in a high ponytail instead. 

When they finally moved from the painfully long Powerpoint to the hands-on half of the workshop, Frank noticed one of the men jumped to pair up with Mel. Tall with a buzzcut and grey dressy polo. She smiled at the guy and nodded with far too much enthusiasm.

No, he couldn’t spend this time focusing on that. He paired up with a snarky guy from a hospital in Kansas. After fifteen minutes with the guy, he wished he’d done something else entirely. He wouldn’t shut up about trying to find mushrooms while he was in Denver, like it was the entire reason he came to SAEM in the first place. 

“My cousin works at a dispo six miles from here. I can get you a discount,” the guy said at one point. “And just a tip, if you get something like edibles, you can still fly home with it. They don’t care here.”

Frank made an “ok buddy” face and looked around the hall. Buzzcut was leaning over Mel, nudging her and trying to make her laugh. Not just trying, succeeding. Ugh. He turned his focus back and prayed his partner would stop talking about weed sometime soon.

After the workshop drew to a close and his partner wandered off, Frank watched as Buzzcut stopped Mel and chatted her up again. He should just piss on her leg and get it over with.

“Oh, you were here?” Samira stopped in front of him. “I didn’t see you. That was great, wasn’t it?”

Frank nodded. “Yeah, informative. Something to chew on.”

“We’re headed to the reception. Are you coming?” Samira asked.

“Anything to keep me from having to listen to that guy talk about where he’s going to get his magic mushrooms,” Frank said.

Mel joined them a minute later with a shy smile on her face. “Andy asked me for drinks after the reception,” she said, grinning. “He wants to talk to me about my time at the VA.”

“He’s from Seattle, right?” Samira asked, leading the two others towards the reception and exhibit hall. “Nice place to live.”

In the absence of anything positive to say, Frank grunted a neutral noise as he fell in step behind Samira and Mel. He tried not to think about the blonde ponytail swishing in front of him.

The reception wasn’t as bad as he expected. He never minded networking events. It was always a good chance to see what else was out there. His career still held so many unknowns. That night, he ended up running into a handful of people he knew from undergrad and had fun catching up with them. They knew such a different version of him that was strange to slip back into. He hadn’t grown into his looks until the summer before his Freshman year of undergrad, when his grandpa got him a job in construction. The months of physical labor did him a favor. The newfound confidence spoiled him, giving birth to the ego he struggled to contain for years.

When he had his fill, he slipped away and back to his hotel room. Mel must have returned at some point, because the bath mat was wet, and she left a stack of neatly folded clothes on the edge of the bed, including the blue button-down she’d been wearing earlier. She must have come back to change for drinks with Buzzcut. Cool. After eating a sandwich he collected from a nearby shop, he pulled out his phone to say goodnight to Abby and the kids and opted for a phone call instead of Facetime. Just in case.

Abby answered on the fourth ring. “Hey, Mom’s just putting the kids to sleep,” she said.

“Oh.” Frank deflated a little. He really wanted to talk to the kids more than anything. “Do you think I could maybe say hi?”

Abby shook her head. “No, she just finished. They’ll get excited. How’s Denver?” Abby asked. 

“They’re not kidding about the air. It’s fine here. Cold.” Frank took off his shoes and slipped them by the door. 

“Well, the kids miss you already. I’ll make sure you talk to them tomorrow, okay?”

“Thank you,” Frank said. “I’ll see you in a few days. Love you guys.” 

After hanging up, he slipped into the shower to wash off the long day, relishing the warmth and steam after catching drafts of sharp winter air all day. He dried off and found another reason to be thankful Abby packed for him. She packed a flimsy pair of grey joggers that he would have never thought to pack. He hadn't planned to share the space with anyone. That could have been a disaster.

His phone buzzed as he sat on the bed. 

MEL KING: Everyone here is wearing a Patagonia vest. I just went up to the wrong person and talked for thirty seconds
FRANK LANGDON: Are you hiding now?
MEL KING: No.
MEL KING: Maybe.

The idea of Mel hiding behind a tall plant brought a smile to his face.

There were several hockey games that he flipped between for a while, balancing his phone on his chest and scrolling. He propped himself up partially with a pillow behind his back and clicked through channels. Local news showing a potential for snow. It couldn't be that bad. He kept clicking until he found The Princess Bride just starting. He'd always loved that movie. 

His phone buzzed with a message from his sister.

CHARLIE LANGDON: can i borrow 6000
CHARLIE LANGDON: i promise it’s for something good
FRANK LANGDON: You think I have 6000? To just give?
CHARLIE LANGDON: yeah??? why else would you be a doctor LMAOOOOOO
CHARLIE LANGDON: fine, i’ll ask mel
FRANK LANGDON: Please don’t ask Mel for money. She would give it to you.

Frank rolled his eyes and looked at the TV, but within a few seconds, his phone buzzed again. This time with a message from Charlie to him and Mel. How would he explain that one to Abby?

CHARLIE LANGDON: mel can i borrow 6000
FRANK LANGDON: Do not give Charlie money.
CHARLIE LANGDON: don’t listen to him
MEL KING: What do you need it for?
CHARLIE LANGDON: something good i promise
MEL KING: I need more details.
FRANK LANGDON: Mel do not give her money
CHARLIE LANGDON: i just had this idea for a store that rents animal food
MEL KING: Like a pet store? I think those already exist.
CHARLIE LANGDON: no no no you rent the food
CHARLIE LANGDON: you return the poop and they use that for fertilizer
MEL KING: Hmm. Do you have a plan?
CHARLIE LANGDON: not entirely 
CHARLIE LANGDON: i have concepts of a plan
CHARLIE LANGDON: but i just gave most of it away
FRANK LANGDON: Mel are you texting while on a date with Andy?
MEL KING: It’s not a date. It’s just drinks.
CHARLIE LANGDON: excuse me. who the fuck is andy

Frank smirked to himself and turned up the movie.

Chapter Text

Mel watched as Andy, the nice guy from Seattle, shook hands with another person walking by him. It seemed like he knew every sixth person in the crowded brewery. In general, Mel didn't drink, but she could be persuaded on rare occasions. Just not when out with men she didn't really know. Samira would have probably throttled her if she did. Frank, too.

“So how long are you here for?” Andy asked.

“Just today and tomorrow. My colleague strong-armed me into coming. I don’t think I’m much of a conference person.”

“Well I’m glad she did,” he said. “It's been nice talking to you.”

Mel beamed. “Thank you. It’s been nice talking to you, too. But… it’s getting late.” It wasn’t really. Her body just felt like it was. 

“I can walk you back to your hotel,” Andy suggested.  

“That would be nice, thank you.” Mel would gladly accept not walking to the hotel in the dark by herself. 

Andy was nice. Polite. When she’d gone up to the wrong person after using the restroom, it struck Mel that he looked like every other man at the conference. Tall, athletic build, earthy-colored clothes and a Patagonia vest in one of four shades. He was nice, but nice in the way that a graham cracker was nice.

It was interesting, though. Being asked out to drinks with someone. What about her had changed so drastically that it’d become a thing in her life? She was still so used to Becca and medicine being her entire world.

They slipped into the cold night for the ten minute walk to the hotel, Andy talking about how a pair of his shoes went missing and he thought it was his son trying to stop him from leaving. Mel double-checked for a wedding ring, but there still wasn’t one. When they got to the hotel, he moved to kiss her. 

Mel moved away. “I’m sorry, but…”

Andy pulled back, no hint of annoyance on his face. Just a pleasant, if empty, smile. “No worries, Mel. It was great to meet you. You have a good night, alright?”

Huh. That was easier than she’d expected. He really was a nice guy.

When she got to the room door, she steeled herself. She had no idea what she was going to find on the other side. Frank could be asleep already, or he could be out. He could be cranky from a long day. And what if she walked in while he was in the middle of talking to his wife? The idea made her teeth hurt. She didn’t want to get him in trouble for doing something kind for her. 

The last thing she expected was Frank with his hands behind his head, sprawled out in the bed with a slip of his stomach showing under his shirt, watching, of all things, The Princess Bride. It was like being served a bowl of buttered noodles after having her jaw wired shut. 

“I love this movie!” she yelled, kicking off her shoes and scrambling to the bed. She sat on folded legs next to Frank and patted the bed with excitement. “I've seen it so many times.”

“Me too,” Frank said. “I used to watch it any time it came on tv. When I was sick, too.”

“Me too!” Mel said. “One time, Becca and I both got the flu and we watched this like four times in between Becca asking to watch Finding Nemo back to back. I thought my mom was going to go crazy.”

A commercial break started, so Mel rushed to the bathroom to change into her pajamas with a little bounce in her step. Except, she realized, she only brought her old oversized World Wildlife Fund shirt. As she washed her face, she decided she would just have to act like it was normal. It was fine. Most of her would be covered. It was no different than wearing a dress. In bed.

She returned to the room and felt Frank’s eyes on her legs. She took her time shuffling things in her piles and then as the movie returned, so did she to the bed next to Frank. She let her shirt drape around her thighs as she sat with her legs tucked under her again, hands drumming the bed in a quiet rhythm. 

“Oh, I used to want to be Buttercup,” Mel said wistfully. “Actually, I still do.”

“Yeah?” Frank asked. 

“I mean, can you imagine being loved the way Westley loves her?” Mel asked dreamily. “Someone fighting for you like that? Being willing to go through all of that just to be with her? She's so lucky.”

Frank’s face softened as she spoke. Mel didn’t know how to interpret the look in his eye, but it felt like being wrapped in a weighted blanket. 

“Everyone underestimates her, too,” Mel continued, looking at the tv. “They think she’s this helpless girl, but she shows that she’s capable of a lot more than they expect. She just also needs… help. Sometimes.”

“There's nothing wrong with needing help,” Frank said softly. “So how was Bu-Andy?”

Mel wrinkled her nose and looked down at her knees. It felt strange to tell him about a man who’d just tried to kiss her. “Oh, he was fine.”

“Yeah? You going to see him again while you’re here?” he asked, trying very hard to sound non-chalant.

“I doubt it. He tried to kiss me and I ducked. He was nice about it.” Mel pushed herself back against the pillows next to Frank and stretched her legs out in front of her, touching the tips of her big toes in her blue and grey striped socks. 

“You didn't want to kiss him?” Frank asked, tilting his head.

“I don't kiss a lot of people,” Mel said. She brought her hands together in her lap. “It's not, um, something I do often.”

Another commercial came on, and Frank slowly slid from the bed, a terrible wince flashing on his face.

“Are you okay?” Mel asked. She probably wouldn't believe him if he said yes.

“I just need to take more Tylenol. I’ll be fine.” He disappeared into the bathroom. 

Mel slipped under the covers of the bed and looked at the spot next to her where Frank had been. She glanced at the bathroom door, then leaned over and smelled the pillow. She could switch the pillows and he wouldn’t realize, right? No, that was too weird, even for her.

Frank emerged from the bathroom, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and stretching out against the doorjamb. Mel couldn’t take her eyes off his abdomen peaking out from the top of his grey joggers. Something about it made her feel shy.

Andy said something about a demon horse,” Mel said, still watching him move around the room. Specifically, the joggers hanging off his hips. 

“Yeah?” Frank asked. “What about it?”

Mel continued to watch his hips. She swallowed.

“Mel?” Frank asked.

“Huh?” she looked up at his face, her own heating. “Oh. Uh, at the airport. Did you see it?”

“I think I’d remember that,” Frank laughed as he sat back on the bed. “Is that why you didn’t want to kiss him? I thought you were into horse guys.”

“I’m not into horse guys,” she groaned. “That sounds like I’m attracted to centaurs.”

“What’s wrong with centaurs?” Frank asked. “Wait, do centaurs let people ride them? Could you potentially ride off into the sunset on top of them? Because I’ve always wondered what you do with the horse when you’re done with it?”

“Maybe there’s an alternate reality where everyone just has a horse. That would make for an interesting Sims save. Oh, I have to text Charlie, she should do that!”

“You two text a lot?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Did she detect a hint of jealousy? “She texts me a lot. She’s very chatty. I like it.”

“You should meet the rest of my family, then,” he said. 

Mel felt the heat prickle her face again as she texted Charlie, who responded like her phone was already in her hand. 

MEL KING: I have an idea for you? Save file where everyone has to have a horse. Every single household has at least one horse. 
CHARLIE LANGDON: say more
MEL KING: All of your townies would need horses. 
CHARLIE LANGDON: i’m in

“You’ll have to show me the horses in the Sims,” Frank said. “I didn’t even know you could have horses.”

Mel practically jumped out of the bed and to her suitcase, where she kept her laptop. She knew she brought it for a reason. She hopped back into bed with glee. “They’re fun. They were better in Sims 3, but this is fine.” The game took forever to load and made her laptop sound like a jet engine, but she was too excited to show him.

“You came prepared,” Frank said. “That’s very you.”

Mel didn’t know how to take that. She opened her old save and opened the household for Lila Horse. She hadn’t played it in a while. There were other things she’d needed to explore. 

“I’m sorry, Lila Horse?” Frank sounded incredulous. “You’re telling me she was born into the Horse family? That’s fortuitous.”

Mel gently pushed him on the arm. “I don’t use her a lot.” She showed him Lila Horse’s family, which was her and four horses. Each of them looked like a toddler had randomly generated them. They all lived in a one-bedroom house in Willow Creek.

“Oh, I get it,” he said. “She took their last name. That’s sweet of her. Is this a Snow White and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse situation?”

Mel laughed so hard she bent forward. “No!”

“Okay, now show me how Queen Mel’s doing,” Frank said, gesturing.

Mel opened the Queen Mel save, an apartment in San Myshuno. “Right now she’s living by herself because her children were driving her crazy.”

“Right, of course. I assume they ride horses to get to and from Mom’s house?”

Mel nodded. “Of course.” She clicked through each panel.

“Wait, go back,” Frank said, pointing. “Sim Nat’s a ghost?”

“I killed him,” Mel said, shrugging one shoulder. “He was getting on my nerves.”

“How did he die?” Frank asked. 

“Cardiac Explosion,” Mel said. “I usually do that one. You have no idea how many times you’ve died from a jealousy-induced cardiac explosion. You’ve been a ghost at least 8 times. I had to turn it off.”

Frank was wordless, watching her with an amusement. 

"Queen Mel knows a lot of ghosts," Frank said, gesturing to the rows of ghosts named things like Amanda Whitman and Kevin Grant.

"Funny how that happens," Mel deadpanned. 

A dialogue option appeared on screen of Sim Mel asking if Sim Frank wanted to have sex. Mel’s hand flew to the screen and shut the laptop closed, pushing it away. Her cheeks burned. 

Oh. She should have seen that coming.

“Wait, what was that?” Frank asked, grabbing the laptop and opening it. When Mel reached for it, he held it over on his other side. He read the screen with his arm extended and burst out laughing. “Oh my god, is this what happens? This is amazing.” He clicked one of the options and laughed harder as the two Sims went over to the kitchen counter. 

“Oh, wow,” he laughed. “Wait, you’ve described this one to me before, haven’t you?”

Mel reached over him to try to grab her laptop, her shoulders shaking from laughter. She lost her balance and fell over his lap with a yelp, but snagged the laptop as she fell forward, and closed it, shoving it to the edge of the bed. Her shirt rode up as she flopped over him, and his body tensed. A thrill shot through her as she pulled herself back onto the bed, pushing off from his thigh. He took in a sharp breath.

“Wait,” Frank said, a little softer than usual. “She didn’t water her crops.”

Mel shoved it back into her suitcase and slipped back under the covers. “Well it was going to take her a while to get around to it,” she said. “Trust me.”

She turned her attention pointedly back to the movie, acutely aware of Frank’s eyes on her the whole time. 

“Uh, so. I was planning on sleeping on the floor,” Frank said. “But if I do that, I’m probably not going to be in great shape in the morning.”

“What?! Why would you do that?” Mel asked, making a face. “You can’t sleep on the floor.” If anything, she should be the one to sleep on the floor. 

Frank nodded. “Thank you. If it’s too weird, I–”

“I trust you,” Mel said softly.

Mel watched as Frank slipped under the covers next to her and turned his attention to the movie as it came to an end. He was there. Next to her. Being a complete gentleman. She gnawed at her lip as the credits rolled. Did she want him to not be a complete gentleman? Maybe a little. Maybe a lot. Maybe the heat that’d been pooling between her thighs since the first flash of his abdomen said everything. 

“I hope the workshop goes well for Samira tomorrow,” Frank said quietly. “She’s been working on this for so long.”

“I think it will,” Mel said, yawning. She wiggled around to find a comfortable position with the too-soft pillow, and turned her head to the outline of Frank’s profile, lit by his phone screen. She watched him quietly until she drifted to sleep, a smug smile softly curled around her lips.

Chapter Text

Okay, so he woke up with Mel King in his arms. So what? 

Maybe it was a little much that he’d initiated it in the middle of the night when he stirred to find her back facing him. But how could he not? He’d scooted close to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled fruity soap and soft linen.

In his defense, she was warm and soft and fit into his arms like a hand into a glove. She made a soft noise as he collected her against him. His body reacted predictably.  

The unpredictable thing was Mel pressing her ass against him and making a soft noise as she shifted. Her body just needed to find a comfortable position. That was it. It meant nothing. He needed to reign it in. She’d just said she trusted him. He would be a fool to do anything to ruin the peace that gave him.

It took him a long time to fall asleep again.

When he finally woke to his alarm, Mel stirred as he hit snooze.

She mumbled “Hm?” and moved her head around, but didn’t pull away from his arms. 

“Good morning,” Frank mumbled. He didn’t want to, but he released her, letting her roll to her back and look at him. 

A shy smile crossed her sleepy face. “Good morning.”

“Sleep okay?” he asked quietly.

“Perfect.” Mel reached for her glasses and her phone.

The sensation in his ribs when she turned away from him felt like pulling the sun away from a field of daisies. He shouldn’t have that feeling in the first place. 

But he did.

While she used the bathroom, he slipped to the lobby to get himself coffee. She didn’t drink coffee, but she did eat dry cereal. He just couldn’t remember which one. He filled paper cups with each one of the options and carried them all back to the room along with a few clementines, feeling like a groggy waiter. 

He sipped his coffee and read his messages on his phone, including the four from Samira asking for him to confirm that, yes, he was still there and ready to help her with the workshop. Mel returned to the room dressed in brown dress pants and a silky-looking cream shirt with vertical dark green stripes.

“I got you some cereal,” he said, gesturing to the cups on the table. “And cuties.” He bit his tongue to keep from making a joke about cuties for a cutie. He was embarrassing himself, and he hadn’t even said it. 

“Oh!” Mel clapped her hands together. “Thank you! This is perfect, wait, why are there four?”

“I didn’t know what kind you liked the most,” he said.

Mel giggled, her hand flying to her mouth. “That’s so nice of you, thank you.” She beamed to herself as she picked up the cup of Chex. “Samira asked me to help her run through part of the presentation because she thinks she fixed it. I’ll see you at her Workshop?”

“See you,” he called as she left. He tilted his head back and took a deep breath. 

He made it through the first night sharing a hotel room with Mel King and managed to only kind of cross a line. But he’d stopped himself from smacking her on the ass when she flopped over him to get the laptop, and kept it together when her hand gripped onto his thigh. Holding her felt harmless in comparison.

His phone buzzed with a Facetime from Abby. He did a quick scan of the room and pushed Mel’s suitcase out of the line of sight before answering. 

“Hey!” he said cheerfully. “How’s it going over there this morning?”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Abby said, blowing the hair out of her face. “The kids are here, you want to talk to them?” She didn’t wait for an answer and handed the phone off to Tanner, who immediately started talking about the funny thing their dog had done that morning. 

Frank talked with them for four minutes. When Abby took back the phone, she looked well rested. She was always the most beautiful in the morning light. Her red hair took to the sun so well. His stomach panged with an unfamiliar grief. It unnerved him.

“How’s your mom doing with the kids?” he asked, trying to shake the feeling. 

“Mom’s been great. I’m so happy she’s here. It’s so much easier with her around. They’ve been perfect angels for Grandma,” Abby laughed. “Oh, but the old iPad died last night. Do you mind if we use yours?”

“Sure,” Frank said. “5825. It should be on my dresser. I used it the other night.”

“Thanks,” Abby said. “It’ll be filled with all things Bluey by the time you get back.”

Frank laughed. “I can’t wait. The workshop is today. Should be done with it by one.”

“Oh? What else are you getting up to out there?” Abby asked. “Partying?”

Frank snorted. “Balls to the wall, baby.”

Abby made a face. “Okay, well, that’s enough of that. Oh, I saw you might get snow. I think I packed a dark blue sweater and some thick socks in case you needed them. Did I pack okay?”

“You always do,” Frank said. “Thank you. But it was like sixty degrees yesterday. I don’t think I’m going to need it.”

“Well, good luck with the workshop,” Abby said. “I’ll talk to you later?”

They hung up, and Frank prepared for the workshop.

In the end, Samira did a flawless job with everything down to the minute. The serene look that crossed her face whenever she did something well stayed plastered on her from the moment she started. She’d had it so dialed in, she took precisely timed sips of water.

As expected, the participants loved the hands-on skills lab, and he actually got to feel useful while helping out. 

“That went much better than I expected,” Samira said after people began filtering out of the room. She picked up items from the tables and placed them into bins. “Thank you for your help. I could have done it without you, but it was nonetheless the right choice to have you.”

Frank raised his eyebrows. “Uh, thanks. I’m glad I could help. Even if I wasn’t needed.” 

Mel walked against the crowd to greet them as they continued packing up. “That was perfect. Everything lined up perfectly. You were awesome. Everyone loved it.”

Samira looked around the room and allowed the serene look to take over her face again. “I’m just so happy this went well. It’s all I’ve been thinking about for months.”

“I’m signed up for another workshop,” Mel said. She grabbed at Frank’s bicep and squeezed it. “I’ll see you guys later?”

He glanced down at her hand on his arm and felt a little swoop low in his belly. He wanted her to do it again. But instead, she left, her ponytail swinging behind her. 

“You’re coming out later, right?” Samira asked. “I know you don’t drink, but it’s Denver. If you don’t go to at least one brewery when you’re here, they don’t let you come back.”

“Sure, I can do that.” He started helping her collect items from the tables. Even if he didn’t drink, it was nice to be asked. Most people made the assumption that he couldn’t or wouldn’t go just because others were drinking. It was kind of them to think about it, but wholly unnecessary. Aside from some weekends in college, he never drank much anyway. It brought out one of the many sides of himself he didn’t like to see. 

“Mel said she’s going to try beer,” Samira said. “She said she’s only had vodka crans and white wine before. I’m not sure if I’m ready for Drunk Mel.”

See, now that he did want to see. Only not drunk. Just tipsy. He had a hard time imagining her as anything but possibly bubblier and more exuberant. It’d be a treat. Right after he spent the rest of the afternoon watching poster presentations. The light at the end of the tunnel.

By the time he got back to the room, he was a little weary from the buzz of the exhibit hall and draining introductions every ten minutes. He perked up after opening the door to find Mel seated rod-straight at the center of the bed while Samira brushed out her hair and clipped it to the side. His heart skipped a beat.

“I’m next,” Frank said, throwing back his hair. “I hope you have bows.”

Mel grinned in his direction, squinting. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, and had changed into a tight, dark red shirt with a v-neck and a million tiny buttons down the front. The bottom ones weren't fastened, leaving the bottom open to just above her navel. 

Frank swallowed. Oh. He liked that. 

“I've never seen your hair not in some kind of braid or ponytail,” Samira said to Mel’s back. “You should wear it down more. Right, Langdon?” She looked right through him.

“Uhh… Yeah,” Frank said, still looking at Mel’s navel. “Whatever makes you feel more like a Queen, Mel.”

She giggled again, ducking her head and shaking it. He needed to keep making her do that.

Samira rolled her eyes with a smile and unplugged her curling iron. “You two are relentless.” 

The brewery was crowded with faces he recognized from the conference, just a little more red faced and blurry. It was shockingly warm outside. People were talking about the snow predicted for the next day, but it was still too warm to take it seriously. 

Samira’s research crew crowded around a long table with Frank and Mel squished in the middle. She looked uncomfortable, ducking away from the person next to her, into Frank’s orbit. 

“Samira said you're trying some beer?” he asked, turning his body to face hers. His knees knocked against her stool. 

“I decided it would be interesting to try it.” Mel looked around them like she was scanning for exits. 

“When was the last time you drank?” Frank asked, knocking his knee against her and trying to catch her gaze with his own. An antsy feeling always overcame him when she looked away from him like that.

“In college. My freshman year study group went out after midterms. I had one beer.” Mel looked over his shoulder with wide eyes. Frank turned to see Samira and another woman holding a long tray of small beer glasses. "I didn't like it."

“Premium beer flight,” Samira said. “These guys are serious about their hops.”

“Okay,” Mel said, her eyes widening at the tray. She shrank back. “I'm in over my head.”

“Relax,” Samira said. “You don't have to drink anything you don't want. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Frank slipped off his stool to let Samira sit, then figured he might as well order something. He wandered off to figure out what they had that he could drink, and ran into one of his med school classmates, who pulled him into a conversation for about fifteen minutes. 

MEL KING: Where did you go? Samira wants you to meet her podcaster friend 

He slid his phone away and said good night to the guys after another ten minutes, heading back towards Mel and Samira. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted the last person he expected to see 1500 miles from Pittsburgh. 

Nat Bennett.

Great.

Chapter Text

Abby Langdon rifled through her husband’s things until she found his iPad. There was no way he used it the other day. She found it tucked in a storage bin she put away a month ago. He insisted the kids each needed their own so he could keep his for work. She’d argued with him about it, but eventually gave in and let her dad buy the kids iPads for Christmas. She’d sworn up and down she would never be one of those parents, but as it turned out, those parents were right sometimes.

After letting it charge long enough to use it while it was plugged in, Abby unlocked the thing and poked around Frank’s apps. She just wanted the Disney app to work. And maybe Candy Crush, though she hadn’t played it in a while. She used to play it all the time when breastfeeding the kids, and sometimes when waiting for Frank to get home. She opened the App store to download Disney+ and set it aside, stretching out her long legs diagonally across the bed. 

That was the true bonus of Frank being gone. She could lay diagonally. She loved her husband, but he took up a lot of space in their bed and ran hot even in the summer. 

Next to her, the iPad chirped. A new message popped across the top. 

MEL KING: Where did you go? Samira wants you to meet her podcaster friend 

Oh. The iPad was synced to his phone. For a moment, she considered shutting the thing off and tucking it away. But the idea of needing to force the kids to share until they could get a new one made her want to drink bleach. 

But Frank hadn’t mentioned Mel would be in Denver. Oh. Right. Abby remembered Samira talking Mel into going to a conference at the fundraiser. That must have been what they were talking about. And if the three of them worked together, it made sense. Mel was probably also helping Samira.

Still, it was a little strange she hadn’t told her. But had he gone out of his way to not tell her? She was overthinking it. It wasn’t a big deal. 

Curiosity got the better of her. Abby scrolled up to the most recent messages between Mel and Frank. A short conversation the night before and very little else. Mostly about work. One thanking him for the sandwich. Okay. Well, at least Frank had taken her request to dial it back seriously. She stopped scrolling after 5 exchanges between them, satisfied. She didn’t need to investigate the rest. 

Abby wasn’t necessarily worried. 

But Frank never could resist a woman who needed his help, and Mel seemed to find herself in situations where she needed a lot of it. Specifically from him. 

Like anything else that misbehaved, it just needed to be redirected.

Abby reached for her nightstand and her copy of Emily Henry’s The People We Meet On Vacation, which she started eons ago and hadn’t gotten around to finishing. Somehow with her mom there to help with the kids in Frank’s absence, she was getting a lot more done and had more little chunks of free time to herself she wasn’t used to. 

Just after the protagonists’ vacation to New Orleans, another message dinged on the iPad. It was from Mel, and suggested Frank had sent one to her first. Abby opened the text thread again.

FRANK LANGDON: Nat is here.
MEL KING: Oh dear. Where?
FRANK LANGDON: Other side of the bar
MEL KING: Uh oh
MEL KING: Ahh no he saw me. Help

Abby rolled her eyes. Another instance of a damsel in distress looking for her white knight. What happened between Nat and Mel that required this much advance of him being at the same place as her? Sounded like d-r-a-m-a. It was annoying, but seemed harmless. She tapped the screen to get out of the messages and move on with her night, but hit the wrong spot. The thread jumped to the top, then loaded a full screen above it with more messages. Abby scrolled up curiously and stopped cold when she saw a flood of screenshots of what looked like that Sims game.

All the breath left her body. Her stomach turned to ice. There were dozens of pictures of the little cartoon people having sex. Not just any two cartoon people. A blonde woman and a dark-haired man. They looked like – no, that couldn’t be true.  But the text that accompanied the messages told her everything.

Sim Frank and Queen Mel. 

Bizarre, matter-of-fact descriptions of what the screenshots depicted. Her husband asking to see more of them. Mel sending them unprompted. Miles of messages between them. She’d counted them. He referred to previous numbers. He compared them.

Abby’s stomach threatened to launch itself out of her body and against the wall. There was no way. No fucking way. She scrolled back to see how far back it went, and bile rose in her throat with each swipe.

MEL KING: On this one, Queen Mel is just on her phone on the bed completely oblivious while Sim Frank takes her from behind. She does not make a single face or show indication that she knows what's going on. I’m not sure how that's even possible.
FRANK LANGDON: Some people are into that
FRANK LANGDON: Or just take what they can get

Abby dry heaved. Some people just take what they can get? Was that supposed to be a crack at her, and the way their sex life had dwindled away after the kids were born? She’d been insecure about it, sure. She’d rejected his advances a handful of times, but not every time. She still craved his touch like when they’d first met. There was just always so much to get done.

FRANK LANGDON: What's Queen Mel up to?
MEL KING: This one started off interesting. Sim Frank is in the bathtub taking a bubble bath. Queen Mel is talking to him from the side of the tub and also waving her boobs in his face. She starts touching his chest and then giving him a handjob under the water. Which is all great, but then it advances and he's just holding her up above the water and fucking her. That does not make any sense. 
FRANK LANGDON: That's acrobatic. But the bubble bath sounds nice.

She finally found the starting point, months before. 

MEL KING: YOU DID THIS?
FRANK LANGDON: Probably
FRANK LANGDON: But what this time?
MEL KING: THIS. YOU DID THIS.
FRANK LANGDON: Well don’t they look like they’re having fun?
MEL KING: OMG
FRANK LANGDON: 😇
MEL KING: THEY WON’T STOP.
FRANK LANGDON: Don’t make them stop!
FRANK LANGDON: Btw
FRANK LANGDON: Jealous?

Before that exchange, there had been some pleasantries and the occasional check-in and meme. Abby set down the iPad and looked at the wall for a full minute, trying to process what she’d found. He initiated it. Her husband. He was the initiator. It wasn't just a lonely girl with a crush.

Against her better judgment, Abby opened the Photos app and waited for things to sync. The last picture had been taken just a little while ago. It was the backs of Samira and Mel’s heads as they walked down the street in the dark. There was one from just a while before of Frank, Samira, and Mel in a bathroom mirror. He had his arm around Mel.

She scrolled a little further and found a picture of Mel looking off into the distance with a blue backpack covered in daisies hiked over her shoulder. 

He lied to her.

He said the bag was Samira’s.

It was in his room because she was in his room.

She launched herself to the bathroom, where she bent over the toilet bowl and threw up. The tears started coming on the second round of gagging. Fuck. This couldn’t be happening. Even with the gnawing sensation in her gut every time she saw him texting her, she was still foolish enough that she trusted him. After everything they’d been through. After everything he put them through.

She may not have been worried, but she was aware.

Abby’s first suspicion took root the night of the fundraiser. Being at the table with them was like watching a performance in another language. He was the only person who laughed at her jokes – most of the time, the only person even paying attention when she spoke. The way everyone kept bringing up their little “in jokes” and the way he teased her. But she’d written it off. His camaraderie with his colleagues was one of his lifelines. Again, harmless.

It was really the photos from that night that made her uncomfortable. The one of them under the sparkly lights on the back patio made Abby’s whole body tense up. It could have just been two friends laughing at a good joke. But the one of Mel looking slightly to the side of the camera while cozying up to Nat with a little smirk on her face – there was only one thing she could have been looking at from that angle. It’s how she knew, for certain, that Mel had a crush on her husband.

It was just that not for a second had she considered that it could be two-sided.

Or that, even if he did have some kind of crush on the girl, he would stay with her in a hotel room.

In Denver.

She must have made some amount of noise, because when she stood from her knees with shaking hands, her mother leaned against the doorway with concern etched among her soft, wrinkled face.

“Abigail, are you sick?” she asked. “Do you need to see a doctor?”

“No,” Abby said, shaking her head, breathing rapidly to try to dampen the feeling roiling in her guts. “No doctors. I just….” She swallowed quickly to push it all down, trying to stay strong.

Abby was once a young girl who needed her mother to comfort her after her first boyfriend, Todd Connolly, broke her heart the morning after taking her virginity at prom. Even though she was older, with a daughter of her own, there she was again – a little girl climbing back into her mother’s arms because another boy had broken her heart.

Chapter Text

FRANK LANGDON: Nat is here.
MEL KING: Oh dear. Where?
FRANK LANGDON: Other side of the bar
MEL KING: Uh oh
MEL KING: Ahh no he saw me. Help

Mel tried each of the beers three times, the same way she tried new foods, and decided she would drink the fruity one first. Or at least some of it. And maybe some of the pretty pale colored one. Maybe. But probably not. She didn't really like either of them.

Once she got Frank's text, “all of them” sounded like a good option. 

After scanning the brewery with her head on a swivel, Mel spotted Nat. He looked out of place. Why was her there? She didn’t want to draw attention to herself by staring at him, but he must have caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye, because he waved with a confused look, then disappeared into a crowd of rowdy men on the other side of the brewery. 

Samira caught it and made a face. “He's here? He’s not even EM.”

He wasn’t, but Nat loved people. Mel looked around, desperate to catch Frank's eyes somewhere in the crowd. She was so used to being able to do that at the hospital. It was one of the first grounding things she did. It didn’t hurt that he was kind of always there. She drank the fruity beer, trying not to gag at the flavor. Pennies, citrus, and rot. That was it. She was categorically not a beer drinker, especially not when the loose, fuzzy sensation spread through her and softened the edges of the room. 

Finally, a hand squeezed her shoulder, and her head snapped around to Frank standing behind her. She exhaled and dropped her shoulders. Safe. Samira slipped off the stool and offered it to Frank, but he waved her off and stood behind Mel, shielding her from the rest of the brewery and setting his hands on her shoulders. Her heart skipped a beat at the intentional touch. Not an accidental hand graze. His hands on her shoulders. In a very public place. 

“Did you guys hear about this storm?” Samira asked, showing her phone screen with a weather app loaded. “I don’t know if we should take it seriously or not. At least I’m out of here before it’s supposed to get bad.”

One of Samira’s friends, Angel, turned over his shoulder. “I bet it’s just going to rain.”

A little feather of worry drifted through Mel’s gut. She already missed Becca so much. She couldn’t deal with having to stay in Colorado longer than she already had to. This was the longest they’d been apart, and Mel felt like she was missing a part of her own body sometimes.

Frank’s fingers tapped along Mel’s collarbones absentmindedly, sending chills through her body. She closed her eyes and tried not to get caught up in the rhythm. It proved difficult. Each tap felt like something in her rising, and she had to stop herself from wiggling away when the sensation got to be too much. Instead, she pushed her head back against his abdomen and looked up. A warm, floaty sensation washed over her as she watched him talking with Samira’s friends. She drank some of the second beer, which tasted more like grass than fruit. She didn't like that one, either. 

As Frank’s fingertips continued, her mind drifted to an apartment in San Myshuno. #48. Sim Frank leaning back in a chair, Sim Mel on her knees in front of him. It was one of the better animations. She thought about it often. Or, well, not the animation itself. She rarely thought of the actual animations themselves. But nobody had to know that. 

“You okay?” Frank bent down and spoke directly into her ear. His fingers splayed across her shoulders, his thumbs pressing into her neck. 

She went rigid as every hair on her body stood at attention, goosebumps erupting along her arms. “Uhh, haha.” She couldn’t stop the giggle from bubbling up. “Yes.”

He tilted his head with an amused smile. “You like these?” he pointed to the beer in front of her.

“Not really,” she laughed. “When in Rome. I guess.” She drank more, shrugging. Her limbs were loose, her head just a little fuzzy and light. She should stop. But it was making her a little bolder, and she kind of liked the feeling. It made her think of when she was younger and used to defy her mom while making eye contact with her, daring her to make her stop.

There wasn’t anyone there to stop her, though. 

She leaned back into Frank and motioned for him to lean down again.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked, not really sure where she was going.

“You can ask me anything,” he said, an inch from her ear. 

Her skin tingled. She had to keep finding reasons to make him do that.

Mel turned her head. “Do you think you–”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Oh no. She knew that voice. Mel swiveled her body around to peek behind Frank. Her heart sank at the sight of Nat, red-faced and scowling. Oh. He looked pissed. Like, just-got-caught-fucking-her-on-the-roof pissed. 

“Nat, hi,” she said, slipping off the barstool to face him. When her feet hit the ground, she wobbled. Just the tiniest wobble. Okay, fine. Maybe a little more than that. Frank’s arm shot out to steady her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him push the remaining beer towards Samira, including the second one Mel had almost finished. Rude. She wanted to finish that one. 

She didn't like the beer, but she did like the confidence in her veins. She felt powerful. 

“Oh, hey guys,” Nat said in a mocking sing-song tone, gesturing to Frank flippantly. “How's your wife?” 

“Nat, come on,” Mel said, her brows furrowed. She didn’t want to think how many of Samira’s friends were paying attention to them. “Stop. What’s new with you?”

“You just can't help yourself, can you?” Nat laughed. “Hands all over her like…” He drifted.

Oh, he was drunk. Mel’s heart ached for him. He wasn't thinking. He was just feeling. She knew that sensation all too well. Not from alcohol. Just from the embarrassment of her own day-to-day existence. 

“I think you should walk away,” Samira interrupted calmly. “You’re about to make a scene, and I don’t think you actually want that.”

Nat threw back his head a little too far and laughed. “Me? I’m the problem?” He looked around at everyone with a can you believe this shit? look that no one returned.

“A little bit, yeah,” Frank said. “Come on, buddy, you're drunk.”

“Nice glass house you’ve got there,” Nat snorted. “By the way, I never asked. How was rehab?”

“Nat. Stop.” Mel tried to take another step towards him, but Frank’s arm hadn’t released her. She tried to pull it off her, but he kept it in place. She shot him a look, but he didn’t budge. Why did he think he got to do that?

“You know what? You guys suck,” Nat said, gesturing at all of them. “The fucking worst. Especially you.” He locked eyes with Mel and made a face of disgust, then turned and pushed through the crowd. 

Frank dropped his arm, releasing Mel, who clumsily slipped into the crowd after Nat, reaching to stop him. “Nat, wait.”

She had the distinct feeling she'd done this before. 

Yes, that was the roar at the base of her skull. Just like last time.

“Save it,” Nat barked. “I don’t care. You’re pathetic. Both of you. And the worst part is that you don’t even see how fucked up it is.”

“Come on,” Mel pleaded.

Recognition crossed Nat’s face as he narrowed his eyes and stepped closer. “Or, wait, is this all another scheme? Do you want to fuck me in the bathroom so he walks in? Or just fuck me in the middle of this brewery? That way he can watch? Is that what it is?”

Icy shame froze in Mel’s veins. “No. Of course not.” The denial sounded weak with guilt.

He loomed over her, forcing Mel to take a step back against a pillar covered in flyers for local businesses. She looked around for Samira or Frank, but Nat took up the entirety of her line of sight. She swallowed down a wave of fear. This was Nat. He was drunk, and he was being an ass, but he wouldn’t hurt her.

“That’s what you’re into, isn’t it?” he hissed. “You want to use me to make that fucking loser jealous? You want to get down on your knees right here and give him a little show?” His hand tapped his belt buckle, fingers curled like he might actually unhook it.

Mel flattened her back against the pillar, pushpins pressing into her skin. Okay, Drunk Nat was not her favorite. She turned her head to avoid his sour breath on her face as the noise from the brewery receded into the insidious roaring and thudding in her ears. She didn't want to be there anymore. She had to go to the safe place. Unlock the door, step inside, lock herself in, and float off on a cloud.

“Why so shy all of the sudden?” Nat pressed, reeling her back. “Don’t you want everyone to see, you dirty little slut?”

He barely finished the last word before something pulled Nat away from her. Mel cringed and ducked, rolling away from the pillar and nearly tripping over another person on the other side. She straightened up just in time to see Frank’s fist connect with Nat’s jaw. There was a wild anger in Frank’s eyes that unlocked something feral low in her abdomen. When his eyes landed on hers, she forgot what words were.

As a concept.

Entirely.

Samira collected Mel and rushed her out of the brewery, away from the gawking and lookers-on. Mel’s limbs were somehow even looser than before, and outside in the crisp night air, the lights blurred, the softened edge of the evening returned in full. She fanned her face, trying to catch her breath.

“What was that!?” Samira asked, shocked. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

Mel shook her head, unable to form the right words to explain. She craned her neck, looking around to find Frank in the crowd. He shouldn’t have done that. It was a recklessness he’d already learned from once before. 

Yes, it was kind of hot, but he shouldn’t have done that.

No, it was definitely hot. And he shouldn't have done it.

But she kind of wished she could watch it again. 

Maybe even save a clip of it to watch alongside her lava lamp.

“I can’t believe he just hit him like that,” Samira said, shaking her head. “I know Langdon can be kind of a hothead, but that was intense. Are you okay? What did Nat even say?”

“I’m fine,” Mel said. “He was just drunk. And he’s mad at me for… he’s just mad at me.” There was no way she could explain the why to Samira. 

“Was he hurting you?” Samira asked, her eyes full of concern. “I couldn’t really see anything.”

“He just… he backed me against a pillar,” Mel said, trying to push away the image of Nat’s hand hovering over his pants button. It was so unlike him. She tweaked her fingers as she let her breathing come back down to normal.

“Whatever it was he said,” Samira said, “Langdon must have heard, because he was pissed.”

Did that make Mel feel better? Or worse?

Frank stepped outside a few moments later, looking disheveled and annoyed. When his eyes landed on Mel, he made a beeline for her, nearly bulldozing a pair of ski bros crossing his path.

“I should have done that the first time,” he said.

“The first time?” Samira asked, looking between Frank and Mel. “What do you mean the first time? What the hell is going on?”

“I should go back to the hotel,” Frank said, running his hand up his face. “Before I embarrass anybody else.”

Mel wrapped her hand around his bicep and caught his eyes. “That wasn’t embarrassing,” she said, shaking her head a little. “That was…” Hot. Insane. Hot. Do it again. Wild. “Fine.”

Frank tilted his head like a puppy and folded his arms over his chest. “That was fine?”

“Mel said that Nat backed her up against a pillar,” Samira said.

“I’m fine,” Mel said, putting up her hands. “It’s really fine. He was just drunk. We can go.”

“Okay, I’ll call a Lyft,” Samira said. 

“No,” Mel said. “Stay here with your friends. Please, don’t let this ruin your night. You worked so hard, you should be able to celebrate.”

“Are you sure?” Samira asked, looking between them again. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mel insisted. “Just have a good time, okay?” She hugged Samira around the shoulders. “I love you.”

Samira looked surprised. “I love you too, Mel. I’ll see you guys back home,” Samira said. She turned to Frank. “Make sure she gets back safe.” She headed back into the brewery, glancing over her shoulder with a creased brow before she disappeared into the crowd. 

Mel pulled her hands together and looked up at Frank. “Shall we?”

Frank fell into step beside her as they walked in silence. There was a new chill to the air under the warmth. After a block Mel rubbed her arms. She was simultaneously hot and cold, and the gusts of wind weren’t helping. 

“You didn't have to do that,” Mel said as they waited for a walk signal at a corner. But did anyone happen to get it on camera?

“I know.” Frank sounded a little deflated. “I was way out of line. I’m not proud of it. But I saw what he did, and the look on your face, and I just….”

“I mean, yes, the pushpins hurt,” Mel said. “But it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“No.” Frank put his hand on her shoulder and stopped her in the middle of the sidewalk. A man on a bicycle rode past them in the bike lane. “I saw him put his hand on his belt buckle.”

“Oh. And... I looked scared?” Mel looked at the sidewalk, a ripple of sadness drifting through her. 

“Yes. And then you were dissociating,” Frank said. 

“I was,” she said. “I didn’t realize you knew when… I guess I didn’t realize how well you… okay.” She motioned for him to keep walking with her. 

“Of course I know,” Frank said softly. 

Mel tried to keep her face neutral, but smug satisfaction crept along her lips. Being known by him was a gift.  

A new gust of wind brought with it moist, cool air and an awful smell reminding Mel of the livestock buildings at the state fair. She tried to breathe through her mouth as she rubbed at her arms again.

Frank removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. They walked in a companionable quiet, neither knowing what to say. Or not wanting to say what they did know. Mel tugged the jacket around herself, inhaling his scent deep into her lungs. She imagined a little Frank Langdon air freshener she could stick in a baggie for emergencies.

When they got back to the hotel, Mel rushed to the bathroom sink to suck down mouthfuls of water. She couldn't get the taste of sweet rot out of her mouth and gagged as she furiously rinsed it out. In the mirror, her face was pale, pasty, but rosy in the cheeks, and her eyes were just a little shiny. Pulling off the red top and her pants, Mel tossed the WWF shirt back on and raised her arms above her head to see how high the hem lifted. She turned and looked over her shoulder and did the same. Just enough. Nothing scandalous.

The room was empty when she left the bathroom, so she flopped onto her stomach over the bed, scrolling on her phone. She knocked the sides of her feet together and swung them back and forth as she flipped through stories for the people she followed. She rarely posted any of her own. No one other than maybe Becca would care. She was a bit of a long shot, too. Mostly, she watched the puppies and ducklings. Ducklings would never back her against a pillar in a crowded place.

“It smells so bad out there,” Frank said when he returned with a bag smelling suspiciously like fryer oil. “Here, I got you something. You didn't eat earlier.”

He dropped the bag next to her and sat on the other side, opening it to unleash a puff of steamy, salty air. Even Mel was powerless against the smell of fresh fries. Especially at that moment, when they felt like the most important thing in the world.

“Thank you,” she said. “You pay way too much attention to what I eat.” Not that she was complaining. She did forget to eat an awful lot, putting it off until her head ached, and sometimes long after that point, too. But she’d always been like that. Eating was simply low-priority for her.

“Someone has to,” he said, pulling a fry out of the container. 

The fries tasted extra good. Salty. She pushed herself up from the bed and onto her knees, then tucked her hair behind her shoulder and looked across the room, out the window. Where did the orange glow in the sky come from? 

“Salty,” she said, licking one of the fries with the tip of her tongue like a hamster at a salt lick.

Frank's eyebrows raised. “How much did you drink?”

“What was so good about the Romans, anyway?” Mel shut her eyes and shook her head. 

“Yeah, one of the least important societies of all time,” Frank said. “Practically irrelevant.”

Mel laughed. “Exactly.” She licked the salt from another fry and bit it slowly with her front teeth, then lay back with her head against Frank’s thigh. She lazily reached for the flimsy container, but couldn’t reach into it. That was okay. She didn’t need to eat anything else. She wasn’t really hungry.

“Did you stop eating because you can’t reach them?” Frank asked, laughing. 

“No,” Mel lied.

He handed her fries one at a time until he found a long one and fed it to her. Her lips brushed his fingertips from time to time, until he fed her the last one and she caught the tip of his thumb with her teeth and sucked off the salt. Frank’s breath hitched, and he went very still. She grabbed his hand and brought his pointer finger to her lips, relieving that one of salt, too. A little grin crept up the side of her mouth when his eyes met hers. He swallowed. She continued with each finger, never breaking eye contact, nipping his pinky with a giggle as she finished. 

It was the warm boldness that’d permeated her muscles. 

She rolled over onto her stomach, allowing her shirt to ride up. Frank threw away the box, yawned, and disappeared into the bathroom. Mel continued to scroll through her phone, searching for something light and fun to keep her mind from slipping back to Nat’s body blocking her line of sight. 

Frank emerged from the bathroom with those grey joggers hanging from his hips again, possibly even lower than the night before. The strip of exposed skin had expanded, showing a line of dark hair trailing between his navel and the waistband.

Okay, so, as far as distractions went, that was a fairly good one.

“What do you think of Denver?” Frank asked. “After being here for a day or so?”

Mel caught herself dragging her teeth over her bottom lip, mouth dry, as she watched him stretch against the door frame again, pulling his shirt up higher. She thought about what it would feel like to slip her hand up the bottom of that shirt, caress his stomach, plant kisses along that line of fuzz until she reached the top of his waistband, and –

“Mel?”

“Hmm?” She shook her head like a cartoon, but couldn’t pull her eyes away. “Uhh, yeah, it’s fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” Frank looked at her with amusement, a little twinkle in his eye. 

“Uh, I mean, it’s fine,” she said, clearing her throat. “Super thin air.” 

Mel’s phone pinged with an alert about someone streaming on Youtube. Whoever they were had a cosmic sense of cosmic timing.

“Oh!” she said, “Charlie’s streaming something!” She scrambled back against the head of the bed, feet down and knees up. 

“Yeah?” Frank asked, sitting next to her as she held up the phone to show him the screen. “Here, let me.” He held the phone between them and draped his other around her, resting on the outside of her thigh.

Mel looked at the side of his face for a moment. Could he hear her heart thudding? She hoped not. It felt loud to her.

Hi everyone, welcome to my channel. I’m back after a long hiatus to bring you something new and exciting. Today we’re going to start my most ambitious save yet. Oops! All horses.

“No!” Mel laughed, clapping her hands to her mouth. “All horses?”

This idea was brought to me by my brother’s friend, Mel. She suggested I make everyone in town have a horse. I decided to take it one more step – we’re going to see how far I can get making everyone except for one main Sim into a horse. This will either be hilarious or immediately break my laptop. I’m willing to find out. If you’re just joining this stream, hi! I’m Charlie. Tell me where you’re from in the chat.

Frank typed awkwardly with one hand.

LADYMEL2495: Hi from Denver

Wait a second, is that my muse herself? Guys, Mel is actually in the chat right now and I didn’t even tell her I was doing this tonight. This is the girl you want in your corner. Wait, why are you in Denver? 

LADYMEL2495: Conference

If you’re just joining, we’re getting started on a new save file that’s going to be all horses. Everyone is going to be a horse with the exception of one main Sim. And joining us from Denver is the inspiration for this idea, LadyMel2495. Mel, thank you for joining. I hope I do your idea justice. When you see my brother, tell him that he owes me $500. 

LADYMEL2495: No he doesn’t

Ha! My hunch was correct. Chat, we have Mel and Frankie here with us. Let’s get started.

As Charlie got started building her ridiculous town, Frank’s hand fiddled absentmindedly with the hem of Mel’s shirt. It produced a fresh wave of goosebumps. Mel spent an inordinate amount of time trying to keep her breathing level. If his hand just went up a little higher…

And now, we’re going to create our main Sim for this adventure. However, when I decided to do this, I knew I had to come prepared with a specific Sim. We’re importing two Sims from another one of my saves and working from there. 

Charlie opened a household in Create-A-Sim, and a blonde woman in a braid and dark-haired man with cartoonishly piercing blue eyes appeared on the screen. Mel’s hand flew to her mouth. It was them.

“Charlie, for fuck’s sake,” Frank mumbled.

Mel giggled, dropping her head forward. It was too silly.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Daisy. She will be our guide through Horse Town. 

They watched for a while as Charlie set up her game, Mel taking the phone to encourage her in the chat every so often. Thirty minutes in, Frank rose from the bed to head into the bathroom, followed by the sound of running water. Mel kept watching the screen, a silly smile plastered across her face. She couldn’t believe Charlie liked her idea enough to riff off it. Her eyes were feeling heavy, so she went under the covers and pulled the comforter up around her chin as she rolled to her side.

When Frank returned, he turned off both lamps and slid into bed next to Mel. He propped himself up on his elbow to look over her, at the phone screen. After a minute, his chin pressed into her arm, holding it up for him.

This is about as far as I’d planned to go for my first stream. Thank you for joining me, everyone. I hope to see you next time. We’ll get a little closer to finding out just how much this is going to break my laptop. Until next time…

LADYMEL2495: ❤️❤️❤️❤️!!!!!!!!

Mel closed the stream and looked up at Frank, whose face was hanging over her shoulder. 

“I love her,” Mel laughed. “She’s really good.”

Frank nodded, his chin digging into her arm. “She’s one of a kind.”

Mel put her phone on the side table and nestled her head against the pillow while Frank rolled onto his back and checked his phone, his free arm behind his head. Perfect. With the last traces of beer-infused boldness, Mel scooted over and placed her head against his chest before he could react. She inhaled slowly, savoring that warm, clean scent she couldn’t get enough of. The next day would be her last chance to get a hit of it before they returned to reality and the permeating traces of hospital smell. She gently placed her arm across his chest, tentative so that she could play it off if he pulled away. But Frank lowered his arm, curling it around her to draw her tighter against him. 

Instead of drifting off, she found herself acutely aware of every breath. Every shift of his legs. Unbearable. She rolled away from him eventually, curling on her other side in the hope she might be able to focus on her own breathing. Moments later, Frank rolled over too, and snaked an arm around her waist to draw her body against his. He buried his face in her neck, breath warm against her skin and hair. Her own breath caught in her throat. She slowly relaxed into his body, but found herself wide awake as her hips rolled back against him, her ass brushing against something hard. 

Oh, she was definitely not falling asleep anytime soon.

Chapter Text

Frank knew Mel was awake. Her sleep breathing was soft. Rhythmic. Calm. This was deliberate. Shallow. Every five breaths or so were deeper and shakier, like she was trying to steady herself. 

He couldn’t. It would be a mistake. 

It took every ounce of reserve he had not to hold her hips and grind against her. He couldn't. Not like that. He stayed still as she pressed her ass into him. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck. 

His heart raced. He had to stop her. Even if his blood was screaming at him to do something else entirely. He pulled his arm from around her waist and ran his hand down her arm, lacing his fingers through hers. She pretended she needed to adjust herself again and he squeezed his hand over hers, pulling his hips away from her. She made a tiny noise of frustration.

“Mel,” he whispered into her ear. “You're drunk.” She wasn’t that drunk. But still. Inebriated enough that he didn't want her to do something reckless and regret it in the morning.

“No,” she said. “I–”

“Shhh,” he breathed. “You don’t want this. Trust me. Go to sleep.”

The words caused him physical pain leaving his mouth. But he had to. She didn't want it. Him. She wanted some perfectly reasonable, available guy like Nat Bennett who could give her everything she deserved. Except not actually Nat Bennett, because he was fairly certain if he crossed paths with that guy again, he might actually throw down like a tom cat. 

Things would look different in the morning, and he didn't want her to regret a moment of the time they'd spent together in Denver. He’d been having so much fun with her. More fun than he’d had in a while. He couldn’t let that memory be tainted by something like clumsy grinding after a night out. 

It was a miracle he fell asleep at all that night, and no surprise he dreamt of locked doors and cracked windows.

But he was correct.

Things did look different in the morning. 

An unnatural brightness lit the room as he opened his eyes. Mel was in his arms again, but this time facing him with her head tucked under his chin. He unfurled himself as gingerly as he could to look behind himself, out the window.

Oh. Holy shit.

They were, in fact, not kidding about the storm. The only thing he could see out the window was shades of white and grey flying around outside. He reached for his phone, only barely getting a grip on it by the tips of his fingers. He slid it towards himself, trying as hard as he could to not rouse the woman still snoozing in his arms. 

He scrolled through the various severe weather alerts to the most recent one. Blizzard warning. 36 inches. 36!? It’d been borderline warm the night before. The rapidly dropping pressure did explain the dull ache in his back. He had a bad feeling about their flights, but his flight still showed as being on time. Maybe they were used to it here.

“Mel,” he whispered. “Mel, you need to wake up.”

“No I don’t,” she mumbled.

Fuck, he loved the petty way she pushed back at him sometimes. For no reason other than wanting to tell him no, even. 

“Open your eyes for me, sweetheart,” he whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open as requested, wincing at the ultrabright light in the room. “Why is it so bright?”

“Look out the window.” 

She craned her neck to look around him. “This might have more of an impact if I could see past the edge of the bed.”

“Oh,” Frank laughed. “Right.” He scooted away against her protest, sliding out of bed and going all the way around to retrieve her glasses. He handed them to her as she sat up, still wincing and squinting at the light. 

When she pushed them up against her nose, her eyes widened. “Oh! Wow, that’s so pretty.” She rolled out of the bed and went to the window. A wide smile spread over her face as she watched the snow fall.

Frank joined her at the window, stunned at the scene unfolding below. The snow was thick and heavy, and there was already so much of it piled on the trees and cars. Gusts of wind blew flakes past the window, creating drifts along the roofs and sidewalks. Despite that, if you squinted between the fast-moving clouds, you could see intermittent patches of blue sky getting swallowed up by grey.

Frank turned his attention to Mel, whose eyes were wide and bright with that specific kind of joy she mostly got when something went particularly well at the hospital. It tugged at his heart, and he quietly angled his phone towards her to take another sneaky photo. The light hit her eyes in a way that made his knees weak.

She noticed his phone and turned away, her cheeks flushing. “Stop, I just woke up.”

“Okay, okay.” He slid away the phone. “Do you want something to eat? I need to go get coffee.”

Mel shook her head. “I’m okay. Actually, what time is it? Maybe we should get ready to go. I’m sure there’s some kind of delay in getting to the airport.” It’d taken them over an hour to get from the airport to the hotel the first time around.

"I’m going to get some coffee and call home,” he said, shaking his phone in the air. “I’ll be back in twenty.”

Mel waved with a smile on her face like she wasn’t going to see him for a week, then picked up her own phone as he left the room. He went down to the lobby and grabbed coffee, more clementines, and a paper cup of Chex. Then filled another one with Lucky Charms, just in case. Maybe yesterday was a Chex today and that day would be a Lucky Charms day. He stepped over into the lounge and called Abby. 

She didn’t pick up. That was odd. It rang through to voicemail. He couldn’t remember the last time that’d happened. He checked the time. Maybe she was driving with the kids. Even then, she usually synced the calls on through the car’s bluetooth. He gave it five minutes and tried again. She still didn’t pick up. Odd. He texted her instead.

FRANK LANGDON: Sorry I missed you. Getting ready to head back to the airport. Weather’s crazy. Can’t wait to see you all.

He waited a few minutes to see if a response would pop up, but it didn’t. Hm. She had to be in the middle of something important. He leaned back against the armchair he was seated in and opened Abby’s Instagram to check her stories as he sipped the coffee. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

Samira had a handful of new stories and he tapped through them, screenshotting the picture of Mel in that little red top with all the buttons and her hair clipped behind her ear. He paused on another a few photos later. It was the whole group at the brewery, with him and Mel tucked between everyone, knees pressed together. Mel was looking at the camera curiously, but Frank was busy looking at her. Something about the picture made his stomach flutter. It felt too real. He swiped again and spotted them in the background of another photo, this time with him standing behind her, hands on her shoulders as she looked up at him with a little smirk that made his stomach flutter again.

His phone pinged with a new message, but it wasn’t Abby. It was from Mel.

MEL KING: Ready to go. 

He opened his thread with Abby again, hoping it would cosmically prompt her to respond. It didn’t. He slid the phone back into his pocket and headed back upstairs. He got to the room when his phone pinged again. Finally. He pulled it out as he swiped the keycard and dropped his elbow onto the doorhandle to let himself in.

ABBY LANGDON: Sorry, I was helping the kids get ready. Can’t wait to see you.

As the restlessness in his veins settled, he pushed open the door to find Nat Bennett.

Kissing Mel.

As soon as Nat saw Frank, he jumped away from her like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. 

Not again.

Chapter Text

In Mel’s defense, Frank shouldn’t have decided for her that she didn’t want what she wanted the night before when she pressed herself against him. 

If he’d just said that it was him who didn’t want it, the rest wouldn't have followed.

She would have accepted a “no” from him. That would have been fine. She would have rolled over and tried to push his body out of her mind. His arms around her. His chest rising and falling with every breath. Those slutty joggers hanging from his hips. His god damn smell enveloping her. That wild look in his eye after he punched Nat. It all would have faded away as she fell asleep.

But, no. She could not accept a “no” on her behalf. In fact, it pissed her off so much that she spent the night seething herself to sleep, if such a thing was possible. 

You don’t want this. Trust me. 

Like hell she didn’t. She knew what she wanted. It was just that no one else trusted her to know what she wanted.

Which is why, when given the opportunity that presented itself after Frank left to get coffee, she had to take it. She had to prove just how far she was willing to go. Maybe then, someone would listen to her.

When Frank left, Mel started picking up things from around the room and placing them onto the bed, just to be sure nothing got left behind. She was in the middle of folding her clothes for a second time to make sure they all fit when a knock sounded at the door. Did he forget his keycard? She looked out the peephole and reeled back.

Nat Bennett stood on the other side. He didn't look upset or angry. He looked tired and a little run down. Still, the memory of him backing her against that pillar at the brewery was fresh in her mind. He wasn’t a violent person, though. 

“Nat?” she asked, opening the door hesitantly. “What are you doing here?”

“Samira said this was your room,” he said “I had to apologize.”

“Okay.” Mel dropped her voice with a little disbelief. Why would Samira send Nat her way without telling her? When had they even talked?

“Look, can I come in? Just for a minute,” Nat pleaded.

Mel considered and stepped aside. Nat barged all the way in, around the bed and turned to face her at the window. She stood awkwardly and wrapped her hands together. “What do you want?”

“I was a total dick last night,” he said. “And I deserved what I got. I’m so sorry.”

Mel furrowed her brows. “Okay.” It was not okay. She just wanted him to know she heard him.

“I’m not going to say ‘I don’t know what came over me’ because I do know,” Nat said. “But it’s shitty of me to put that on you.”

“What came over you?” Mel asked, tweaking her fingers. 

“Seeing Langdon hanging off you like that just brought back that feeling I had the whole time I was with you, and it made me feel like shit, and I was already tired from this entire shitty conference, and I just reacted like a dick.”

“What feeling?” Mel asked. She tried not to let the rapidly falling snow outside distract her.

“Heh, you don’t know much about the male ego, do you?” Nat asked, smiling a little. “I know that this was all supposed to be just sex for the sake of you ticking off those weird Sims scenes, but it’s not easy to do that and not catch a little feeling here or there.”

“I’m… sorry to hear that?” Mel’s voice ticked up at the end, though she didn’t know if she was asking or saying. From Mel’s perception of events, Nat didn’t even seem like he liked her very much at all. More that she was low commitment and available.

“Right, so… maybe hooking up with you started to feel a certain way for me, but it was painfully obvious that it didn’t mean that for you. Every time I turned around, he was there. He can be kind of menacing at times, yeah?”

Mel smirked. “Yeah.”

“That’s kind of it. I just saw him hanging all over you last night, and the way you are with him… it pissed me off. Because a man that’s going to look at someone like that when he has a wife and kids at home? That’s not a good man, Mel. And you deserve better.”

Mel furrowed her brow. “You keep saying he’s not a good person, but he is.” That was the thing that kept getting under her skin. She knew Frank Langdon. He was a good person who'd done some not-so-good things, many of them colored by the haze of his addiction. People did not have to be known only for their worst moments. Mel believed it was that sort of reasoning that made so many people prone to cruelty. You could only be good or bad, and so often ‘bad’ meant odd or strange and it gave the world license to ostracize you and cast you away. 

Nat shook his head. “Trust me. I’ve heard plenty about that guy, and very little of it has been good. Mostly about what a narcissistic douche he’s always been. And about why he actually went to rehab. I don’t think you know the full story. If you did, you would not let that man anywhere near you. You’re smarter than that.”

And that was it. 

The final straw. 

Another man telling her what she should think. She pulled out her phone and shot off a quick text. These men had to learn one way or another. 

“It’s nice that you care this much,” Mel said, tucking away her phone and reaching for Nat’s hand. “You’re a really good guy, Nat. Thank you.” She’d always been a little good at acting. Most people like her had to be, and most people not like her were oblivious to it. 

“I think it’s something you have to get out of your system, yeah?” Nat said “Maybe it’ll take you a while. But when he hurts you, and guys like that always do, and you’re ready to, I don’t know, give someone a real shot? Maybe you should call me. I’d like to get to know the real Mel King.”

“What if I don’t need to wait?” Mel asked. “What if I’m ready now?”

“Are you?” Nat asked, taking a step closer to her. “Because I do kind of miss the way you look when you’re figuring out how one of these positions works.”

It was too easy.

Nat leaned down to kiss her softly, and she yielded to it, giving in to her worst possible instinct. He pressed her into the side of the window enclosure. Mel let her mind drift as it always did so she could focus her attention to the sound she was waiting for. That beautiful sound.

It came a minute later, when Nat was groping her through her clothes in the clumsiest way possible. A keycard unlocking a door, a handle turning, a pause, and then a door brushing against the ugly hotel carpet. 

Nat pulled away from Mel and stepped back with his hands up, like he’d been caught feeling up the principal’s daughter. 

Mel scraped her teeth over her bottom lip and looked past Nat, at the door, to Frank dropping his phone to the ground with that look cratering across his face. 

The wrong one. 

Again.

Nat backed up further. “I’m sorry, is he staying here? Why would you not say something?!”

“Why is he here?” The tiniest inflection of anger seeped into Frank’s voice.

“Why am I here? Dude, why are you here? Oh, for fuck’s sake. Don’t.” Nat put up his hand as Mel opened her mouth. “This is so on me, it’s not… Fool me once, fool me twice, just, FUCK.” He yelled into the air and stormed out of the room, mumbling something that sounded like “fucking psychos” or something else just as charming. The door clicked shut behind him, and Mel came face to face with Frank.

“Why?” he asked, shaking his head. “Why?”

“Why what?” Mel asked casually, refolding a shirt and closing her luggage.

“Why would you let that guy in here after what he did?” Frank asked in a tone Mel had never heard from him before. At least not directed at her. It was critical. Demanding.

“He wanted to apologize,” Mel said. “And he did.”

“By kissing you?” Frank asked, his eyebrows raising. “After he… and you just let him kiss you.”

There it was. Just a little sliver of the wild Mel wanted.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Frank asked, his voice hitched up a little. “Why do you keep bringing him around to just… do that?”

“Whatever,” Mel said, rolling her eyes just a little. “I think you like it.”

“You think I want to walk in on seeing you and Nat Bennett?” Frank asked with disbelief.

“Why do you say his name like that?” Mel asked, making a face. “What’s wrong with Nat? Why shouldn’t I be doing that with him?”

“You know why.” Frank said.

“No,” Mel challenged. “Spell it out for me. He’s smart, he’s handsome, he’s well-liked, he’s successful. So tell me, why shouldn’t I be fucking Nat Bennett?”

Frank closed his eyes. “Mel. Please.”

“Why shouldn’t I be fucking Nat, Dr. Langdon?” She put as much emphasis on his name as she could. She could see the disappointment behind his eyes every time she opted not to call him by his first name. “You know what’s best for me, don’t you? Tell me.”

“Because he’s not me,” Frank said, his voice breaking just a little.

Mel’s resolve fractured. “Well, you’re married.” Her heart was in her throat. She didn't know what would come next.

“Did you go up on the roof with him so I’d throw myself off?” Frank asked quietly. He took a few steps towards her, gingerly, like he was afraid he’d spook her.

“You’re. Married.” Mel’s heart throbbed in her ears, the disorienting roar bubbling beneath the surface. No, no. This was going the wrong way. She was supposed to come out on top.

“And in his car?” Frank continued, stepping closer again. “You knew I was parked there. You saw me. You wanted me to see you when he was fucking you.”

“You’re. Married.” Mel enunciated as best as she could, but her voice strained as tears pricked her eyes. No. She looked up at the ceiling, willing her eyes to dry on command. 

“I just don’t know why.” He stepped closer again.

“You’re MARRIED,” Mel raised her voice on the last word, a desperate plea for him to stop.

“BUT WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?” he yelled.

“BECAUSE. YOU’RE. MARRIED,” Mel yelled back, clenching her hands into fists and digging her nails deep into her palms. 

“And that means you have to sleep with that guy?” He stood a few feet away from her and caught her gaze, refusing to let it go as he approached. “In places you know I’m going to see you? Why? Why does that mean that? Why do you need this so badly you’re willing to let a guy who tried to intimidate you kiss you?”

“You know why,” Mel said, using his own words against him. She tried to look away, but the magnetic draw of his eyes locked her in place. Her short fingernails pressed further into her palms, the stinging acting as a new sensation to keep herself focused so she could escape the overwhelm from his gaze.

“No. Tell me.” He stood toe-to-toe with her.

“You don’t get to do this,” she finally looked away, her cheeks flaming. Her hands ached.

“I don’t get to do what?” he asked, grabbing her hands between his and unfolding the fingers coiled tight against her palm. “I don’t get to do this?” He brought her hands to his mouth and kissed each palm tenderly before releasing them. 

A shock shot up each of her arms at his lip’s touch. “No,” she shook her head as a sinking feeling drained through her. “No, you can’t do that. Not to me,” her voice shook. “You’re not allowed.”

“What about this?” Frank stepped closer and tilted her chin up, planting the softest kiss of her life on her lips. “Can I do that?”

Mel's body melted into it and threatened to give in, but she shut her eyes and pulled back. She'd waited months for that moment, and all she could do was try to get away. “No! You can’t!” She moved away from the window, past him, and to the luggage piled on the bed. “We have to go. Right now.”

“No, we don’t.” Frank crossed his arms. “We have plenty of time.”

“Please, I just want to go,” Mel whined, looking at the ground. “I can't do this.”

“What can't you do?” he asked.

“This!” she gestured wildly around the room, dangerously close to tears. “I can't do this. Please, I'm begging you, I just want to go.”

Frank sighed and rubbed a hand up his face. “It's not going to go away if you run.”

“What choice do I have?” Mel asked, her voice disintegrating, stripped of all fight. She accepted defeat. She tugged her luggage from the bed and let it drop to the floor, then crouched to throw his duffel over her shoulder. 

“I’ll take that,” he said, trying to pull it off her. 

“I don't want you to hurt your back again,” she mumbled, her voice still cracking and strained.

He stepped back and softened. “It won’t. Let me just check to make sure I have everything. We’ll go.” He poked around while Mel stood with her hand on the doorknob, ready to fling herself out the door the second she could. She needed to get out of that room.

Except they would be riding to the airport and flying home just a seat apart. She wouldn’t actually be able to get away from him until they landed in Pittsburgh.

Frank hurried behind Mel along the hallway and to the elevator. She tried to close the door behind her, but he stepped in and stared at her with confusion. As they stepped out into the hotel lobby, both of their phones pinged in rapid succession. They stopped and looked at each other before pulling out their phones.

SOUTHWEST FLIGHT 1383 HAS BEEN CANCELLED. PLEASE CHECK YOUR EMAIL FOR REBOOKING INSTRUCTIONS.

1500 DENVER INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT FLIGHTS CANCELLED DUE TO BOMB CYCLONE. 5000 TRAVELERS STRANDED. DELAYS EXPECTED UP TO 72 HOURS.