cages or wings

Frank likes to think he knows the Pitt nurses pretty well. He knows they’re very different from the doctors, much more open and much more a tight-knit group that stands up for each other, but he believes he’s built quite a good rapport with all of them.

So, to say he was surprised when Princess announced her engagement is an understatement. He’s never expected her to settle down, with all the stories of her sexual exploits and her complete lack of interest in long-term commitment. But apparently, she’s fallen madly in love with a radiologist and now can’t imagine living her life without him.

Frank is happy for her, really, but her wedding is quite something and that’s saying a lot, because he’s been to a lot of different weddings, ranging from his own elegant and Instagram-worthy wedding to Abby – although he did spill some wine on his suit, which should have been an omen in hindsight – to elopements in barns to destination weddings on the beach. However, he’s pretty sure that Princess’s wedding takes the cake, pun intended.

Everything is over the top, to the point where he wonders how she can afford it on her nursing salary, from glass swans on every table to her giant puffy dress to a giant, colourful balloon arch under which she’s said her vows.

It’s not a wedding he would ever plan for himself – if he would ever marry again, that is, which is something he’s surprisingly found himself seriously considering lately –, but he’s decided to just go with the flow and indulge in all the festivities that have been planned, even attempting to join a cringy flash mob that some of Princess’s friends have been planning until Perlah banned him from participating for ‘having possibly the stiffest hips known to man’.

However, due to the flurry of activities, it’s been hard to spend enough quality time with his date, even though that was the thing he’s been looking forward to most of all.

Therefore, he’s more than happy when he feels a soft hand wrap around his bicep when he’s talking to one of Princess’s many cousins, smiling down softly when he finds Mel looking up at him expectantly. Excusing them, he ushers her to the closest private spot he can find so they can finally spend a moment alone, kissing the top of her head when they find themselves under the balloon arch.

“Enjoying yourself?” he murmurs, even though he already knows the answer – this is Mel’s personal hell – and he laughs when Mel glares up at the balloons petulantly.

“Well, at least I know what I don’t want for our wedding,” she states, her body stiffening and her eyes widening as she realises what she’s just said. Slowly, carefully, she looks him in the eye nervously, almost scared, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

When Mel stirs awake, something is different. She’s in her own room, lying on familiar sheets, snuggled under a familiar blanket, but she can still sense that this is not how her mornings usually go.

It’s probably because her body is entirely relaxed, blissfully loose-limbed in a way that’s usually hard to achieve for her. It’s definitely because she’s naked and there is a second warm body lying next to hers.

Cracking one eye open, she sees that he’s already awake, the blue of his eyes illuminated by the soft morning light streaming through a crack between the curtains. His lips curve up into a smile as he notices she’s conscious and he puts his hands under his cheek as he silently watches her, the look on his face so tender and loving that it makes her blush.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he whispers eventually, and she feels a smile grow on her own face as she fully realises that he’s real and he’s here.

It’s not the first time they’ve slept together, not by a long shot, but it’s the first time that he’s been able to stay the night without anyone waiting up for him, as he finally signed his divorce papers yesterday. It fills her with unbridled joy that they can finally be together, even though she knows that the truth will eventually come out, and that it’s impossible for the timelines to match up. For now, she doesn’t worry about that, though, because he’s finally hers and hers alone.

Even though she wants to do nothing more than continue to lie here and bask in the afterglow of last night, Mel is nothing if not a good hostess, so she asks him, “Do you want coffee?”

His eyes soften impossibly at her question, probably due to the knowledge that she’s purchased a coffee maker just for him – neither her nor Becca drink coffee, and before him, they never had guests over –, and he leans forward to kiss her, but at the last moment, he blinks and pulls back.

She lets out an annoyed whine in response, which makes Frank laugh. “I would love nothing more than to kiss you right now, but I’m going to hazard a guess and say you’re not a big fan of morning breath.”

He’s right, of course, and she rolls her eyes playfully at the triumphant grin on his face as he realises that his assessment is correct.

“I’m going to brush my teeth now and make us some coffee and tea and then I’ll be right back,” he announces, before sweeping his long legs out of her bed and padding out of the room.

Once she’s sure that he’s out of sight, she rolls onto her back and stares up at the ceiling as she lets out a little squeal and kicks her legs under the blanket like a schoolgirl who just got noticed by her crush.

Frank is going to send Samira a thank you bouquet.

This year Emmys have been rough. It’s not his first rodeo, since he’s won Supporting Actor in a Drama Series multiple times, but it’s his first time back after his drugs scandal, and his co-star Samira bringing their show’s consulting physician Mel King as her plus-one has been the only saving grace. He’s happy that Mel has found a friend in Samira, knowing how much she struggles bonding with new people, but he’s even happier that he gets to ogle Mel in her purple lacy gown, with her blonde hair tumbling down her back in loose waves.

It’s a nice reprieve from feeling his wife’s sharp nails dig into his hand while having to smile through Robby not even acknowledging him in his speech, Trinity Santos calling him her partner in crime with a sardonic smile while up on stage, and Liam Sanders winning his category. The last one doesn’t frustrate him because he lost – he’s well aware that the nomination is the win this year – or because the guy that the tabloids used to call Temu Langdon has usurped him, but it’s because he saw Sanders chatting up Mel and making her laugh during a commercial break earlier.

However, Sanders isn’t the one who noticed that Mel got overwhelmed and who followed her to the bathroom when she fled. Sanders isn’t the one who wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug, whose lips she stared at longingly when she realised how close their faces were. Sanders isn’t the one who kissed her. Sanders isn’t the one who currently has his pants at his ankles, the long skirt of dress bunched up around her waist and her panties pushed aside as her walls wrap around his bare cock, long after the end of the commercial break. That’s all Frank.

In the distance, he hears the orchestra start to play a familiar tune, signalling that their show has won Best Drama Series. People must be wondering where they are, stories must be written about his absence on stage, but any worries about that get lost in all-consuming bliss.

The music swells, and so does Mel’s pleasure. He can feel her start to tremble as her moans grow louder and higher in pitch, and quickly, desperately, he slips a hand in between them to rub her clit in synchrony with his hard, deep thrusts. When Mel falls apart, her entire body clenches around him, his name a choked sob on her lips. Her orgasm sets off his own, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he spills into her.

For a moment afterwards, they’re frozen, breaths heaving as they stare into each other’s eyes in shock at what they’ve just done. Then, Mel’s face breaks into a radiant smile, and he can’t help but let out a delirious laugh before kissing her.

It’s silly. And so wrong. But Mel can’t ignore the adrenaline that’s coursing through her veins as she stares up at the ceiling.

She’s always been a bad sleeper, something she has made her peace with a long time ago, but the reason for her insomnia tonight is bothering her.

It had been so innocent, just two friends comforting each other after a pedes case had gone awry this morning, but when Dr. Langdon had hugged her and his lips and nose had accidentally grazed the pulse point in her neck as he pulled back – so quickly that she doubts he’d even noticed it –, it had apparently rewired something in her brain and awoken something dangerous in her that had been lying dormant, a puzzle piece sliding into place.

She had been unable to stop thinking about it for the rest of the day, and she had watched him every little moment she could, her gaze hungrily tracing the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, the line of his jaw, the divot in his chin.

And now she can’t sleep because she’s too pent up. And she knows there’s a solution, but she can’t. He’s her friend, and he’s married. She’d be crossing a line.

She shuts her eyes tight to will her inappropriate thoughts away, but of course, her traitorous mind immediately conjures up images of him – lips curled up into a fond smile, strong biceps bulging as he crosses his arms, blue eyes staring into hers.

She feels her body melt as her imagination takes a hold of her, and slowly, carefully, she lets her hand brush across the curve of her breast, trailing down her stomach to slip into her sleep shorts. She lets out a tiny mewl as her finger brushes along her folds, swiping against her clit, before slipping inside. She bites her lip as she imagines it’s his finger, his cock, thrusting deeper than she can reach herself.

She moans a little louder now as she slips in a second finger and rubs her thumb against her clit simultaneously, wondering what it would be like with him. Would the weight of his body cage her in? Would his fingers dig into her hips hard enough to bruise? What would he say? What would he look like when he comes?

While she moves her hips against her hand desperately, her other hand comes up to squeeze her breast and pinch her nipple, before trailing up, softly brushing against her neck the same way his face did earlier today. As she does, the memory flashes before her eyes and she calls out his name into the dark room as she arches off the bed and lets her orgasm rush through her.

With a sigh, she falls back into the mattress. Strangely, the panic doesn’t come. She doesn’t spiral thinking about how wrong this is, about how she can’t face him anymore.

“Are those new earrings?”

Mel looks up from her tablet to find McKay smiling at her warmly, and she nods proudly as she brings up a finger and brushes it against the opalite studs in her ears.

She knows that someone was bound to notice them. Although these earrings are still practical, Mel usually wears smaller studs, like her horseshoes. Part of her has wanted to save these new earrings for special occasions, but knowing that those are typically sparse for her, she has decided to wear the earrings to work once in a while too.

“They’re nice,” McKay compliments them, and Mel can’t help but agree.

She’s been in love with them from the first moment she’d laid her eyes on them, when she was out in town with Frank to help him pick out a birthday gift for Tanner. She’d seen them in a jeweller’s shop window and had immediately been taken by them, raving to Frank about the pretty colour – of course, she had kept it to herself that she loved the colour because it kind of reminded her of his eyes. Frank had smiled at her and agreed that the earrings were pretty cool, before asking her if she would want to buy them. At the time, she’d figured that they would be too expensive on her budget, so she had shaken her head sadly and that was the end of it.

Until a few weeks ago, when Frank had cooked her dinner at her apartment and had slid a box across the table while they were eating. When she’d opened it, those very earrings were shining up at her. She had gaped at Frank incredulously, hand on her chest, and he had blushed as he told her bashfully, “I kept thinking about how much you liked them, so I thought I’d buy them for you.”

It had been a small gesture in the grand scheme of things, but it had been incredibly sweet and thoughtful, so without a second thought, she had gotten out of her chair and slid into his lap, kissing him and revelling in the familiar taste of his lips.

The earrings had been left untouched on the dinner table as she had led him to her bedroom, leaving a trail of discarded clothes behind them. The next morning, she’d worn them for the first time and she’d admired herself in the mirror as Frank had stood behind her and whispered into her ear how beautiful she was and how much he loved her.

The memory makes her smile now, to which McKay responds with an amused raise of her eyebrow. “Got them from someone special?”

She wishes she could tell McKay the truth. She wishes she and Frank wouldn’t have to keep their love a secret, that people wouldn’t judge them and whisper behind their backs if they found out. But they would, and such is life.

“Hey, Mel!”

Mel blinks as she walks by to see Santos, Whitaker and Javadi huddled over at the central desk, clearly in the middle of a gossip session and beckoning her over. She knows that none of them really pay her much attention, so she’s wary of the smirk on Santos’s face and Javadi’s widened eyes, but she also wouldn’t mind actually befriending them, so she steps over to them. “What’s up?”

“Do you know what’s going on with Dr. Whimsy over there?” Santos asks, subtly pointing behind her, and Mel turns around to see Langdon talking to Emma.

Turning back, she shrugs. “I haven’t noticed anything different with him.”

Santos raises an eyebrow, while Whitaker lets out a surprised, “Really?”

“You two are so close, we thought you must know something,” Javadi says, and Mel ignores the warm rush going through her at the fact that other people have noticed their bond as Javadi continues, “He’s been so… happy lately. This morning, he was whistling!”

“And he keeps, like, actually smiling,” Whitaker adds, clearly uncomfortable, while Santos’s full body shudders as she hisses, “He was even nice to me. Genuinely complimented me during a trauma.”

All three of them look at Mel expectantly, and Mel wishes there’s something she could tell them, but there isn’t, so she shrugs again. “Sorry, can’t help you there.”

Santos sits back in her chair with a disappointed huff as she crosses her arms and glares at Langdon behind Mel. “Maybe it’s sex related. I bet he’s screwing one of the interns or nurses. He seems like the type to cheat on his wife. Asshole.”

Mel knows for a fact that he’s not screwing an intern or a nurse, but she can’t tell anyone this without inviting further interrogations, so instead, she just keeps quiet as Whitaker replies, “I heard him talking to Dana about a possible trial separation a while ago, so maybe not technically cheating. He did also tell Shen that they had a date tonight, though.”

“Wait, I’ve got it!” Javadi exclaims with a shit-eating grin on her face. “I saw him looking at baby rompers on his phone the other day. Maybe he and his wife are having another baby!”

Santos and Whitaker seem to be satisfied with this explanation, the three of them huddling close together again as they start whispering and giggling about how band-aid babies are the worst fucking idea ever.

It gives Mel the opportunity to quietly slip away to tend to her next patient, smiling at Langdon as she walks past him.

It’s not until much later that she tells him about her interaction with Santos, Whitaker and Javadi, hissing to him, “You need to be more careful.”

He replies by nipping at that one spot behind her ear and smirking as she moans in response, his fingers tracing her slightly protruding stomach, his wedding ring cold against her skin.

“What, I can’t be happy I’m going to be a father again?”

There are a lot of situations that overwhelm Mel. Being in the middle of large crowds, not being able to do something right when she knows she can do it, feeling alone and left out, sitting in a restaurant where none of the foods have pleasant textures.

But she doesn’t think she’s ever felt as overwhelmed as she does now, waiting on a timer and a stick that could potentially change her future forever.

It’s not a part of the plan she’s laid out for herself, and she isn’t sure how she feels about the idea. The part of her that loves children would be thrilled to be pregnant, to have a little tiny human of her own. Another part of her is terrified of both pregnancy and motherhood and is tired of having been a caretaker for so long. That part of her doesn’t know if she wants to have a child at all.

She doesn’t know how Frank feels either. They’ve been together for a while now, but they’ve never actually discussed the topic before. She knows Frank loves children as much as she does, and that he’s a great dad to Tanner and Penny, but she also has no idea if he wants to have another baby.

Hence, she doesn’t know what she wants the test to say, which doesn’t assuage her anxiety.

Frank’s hand in her own, his thumb rubbing over the back of her hand as the seconds tick away, is at least somewhat comforting, but even the lights that Frank has lowered for her aren’t enough to stop her from spiralling.

She almost jumps out of her skin when she hears the timer go off, and she can see the crease in Frank’s eyebrows that signals he’s also panicking as they both step to the bathroom counter, hands intertwined tightly as they look at the stick.

Negative.

She blows out a deep breath as Frank wraps an arm around her and pulls her close, murmuring against her temple, “How do you feel?”

“Sad,” she says immediately, before shaking her head. That isn’t entirely true. “Relieved.” No, that doesn’t feel quite right either. So, she admits in a small voice, “I don’t know.”

As she looks up at him, the expression on his face is so sweet and tender that she thinks she might cry. She doesn’t, though. Instead, she asks, “You?”

Frank also contemplates the situation for a second, before shrugging. “Same.”

Then, he narrows his eyes thoughtfully at her, before asking carefully, “How would you have felt if it had been positive?”

It’s a big question, the start of an important conversation, but it’s one she finds that she doesn’t have an answer for, too many conflicting feelings tangled inside her mind. So, again, she says, “I don’t know.”

Frank nods, before pressing his lips to hers. “That’s fine. We would have figured it out.”

Contrary to popular belief, Frank does not enjoy partying. He knows that after his drugs scandal, the tabloids have painted him as a party animal who flew too close to the sun, a stereotypical cautionary tale, but in reality, he’s always hated Hollywood parties, repulsed by both the boring industry functions and the over-the-top ragers thrown by fame-hungry socialites.

Still, he knows that he has to keep up appearances. He’s lucky that his privilege as a conventionally attractive heterosexual white man has granted him a second chance on the show that both jump started and nearly put an abrupt end to his career, but it also means that he’s under extreme scrutiny.

So, he’s put on his bravest, fakest smile tonight, and shown up to the premiere party for the show’s newest season. He’s posed on the red carpet, arm wrapped tightly around his wife, who’s wearing an oddly shaped pink dress that only works because she’s Abby Langdon-Fitzpatrick. He’s made forced, awkward small talk with Robby and Abbot. He’s stood in the very back of a group picture while Trinity Santos was front and centre with an annoying, smug smirk on her face. He’s been on his best behaviour, but he’s also hated every minute of it.

That’s why he’s relieved when he finally finds the familiar, friendly face he’s been looking for all night. Melissa King, the show’s consulting physician, is talking to assistant director Mateo Diaz when Frank sidles up to them, his stomach flipping when Mel grins at him brightly in greeting as he joins the conversation.

Mel has been nothing short of a miracle, signing onto the show just as he was set to return. She’s been kind and warm and encouraging to him, an unlikely kindred spirit who’s made him feel welcome and safe. Pairing her kindness with big brown eyes, a pretty smile, and a shiny blond braid, it’s been inevitable for Frank to fall hopelessly in love with her.

He didn’t realise it until a fundraiser last summer, though, when he saw her dolled up in a tight green dress, her hair in a bun for once, and nearly lost his mind. Nothing happened between them then, but he thinks about that night a lot, about how beautiful she looked, and about the look in her eyes when he told her so.

She’s wearing a black corset with thin spaghetti straps tonight – is she trying to kill him? – and he watches breathlessly as one strap falls down her shoulder. Out of instinct, he reaches for it, hooks his finger under it, and he wishes he could snap it, or rip it with his teeth. Instead, he puts it in place, and they turn to smile at each other softly, eyes twinkling. His hand is still lingering on her shoulder when a camera flashes.

Tomorrow, someone – Abby, or his manager Yolanda, or his publicist Cassie – will definitely yell at him for this. But tonight, he doesn’t care.

“This calls for a celebration!”

Frank quirks an eyebrow at Mel’s excitement. The patient they’ve just treated was relatively simple, a headache that just turned out to be nothing more than a first time migraine, but Mel is beaming like they’ve just saved someone from an inevitable death.

“Does it?” he asks, carefully, gently, and Mel just nods vigorously.

“That was our hundredth case together,” she explains. “That’s a nice milestone, isn’t it?”

Holy shit. Frank has so many questions. How does she know this? Has she been tracking their interactions? If she did, that should probably freak him out, but he finds that it doesn’t. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, the notion that someone is actually paying attention to him and regarding him positively.

Most of all, how did they already reach a hundred cases? He’s only been back for a little over a week. He knows that it’s partially his fault for constantly seeking her out, but he didn’t think he was that bad.

At least Robby’s not here, because he would rip him a new one for every little step out of line. And he knows that he’s treading dangerous waters with the favouritism, but he can’t bring himself to care. Mel makes him feel like there might still be something good in his core, beneath all the bad things that have rotten him, and that’s something that he wants to savour.

Mel seems to take his shock for being weirded out, because slowly, her smile slips from her face, her lip curling down into a frown as she wrings her hands in front of her stomach. “Was that a weird thing to say? I don’t know, I just like working with you and I got excited, but maybe I was a bit too much, I’m–”

Frank blinks as he snaps out of his thoughts, quickly exclaiming, “No!”

Now it’s Mel’s turn to blink, and Frank quickly moves his hand to rest it on her shoulder, before thinking better of it and letting it fall back to his side awkwardly.

“It’s not weird, it’s nice,” he assures her, shooting her a comforting smile, which grows as he watches the relief settle in her body and her own grin reappear. “I would love to celebrate with you.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Mel replies, now bouncing on her feet. “I’m trying to see if I like baking, so I can make us cupcakes and bring them into work later this week?”

Frank watches her incredulously for a second. How is she so perfect and how did he get so lucky to meet her? Then he nods, his cheeks starting to ache from grinning so widely. “That sounds great.”

“Great!” Mel repeats, before rushing off to the central desk. He watches her go, braid bouncing behind her, and shakes his head as his heart beats loudly in his chest.

It takes a while for Mel to meet Adam. If you asked her why that is, she would say that their schedules just don’t line up for a long time, but the truth is that she’s scared to meet him – scared that she won’t like him, scared that she’s going to lose Becca, scared that she’ll end up alone. But she also knows that it’s important for Becca that the two people she loves most meet and connect.

So, eventually, Mel decides she can’t avoid it anymore. But she doesn’t think she can do it on her own, so in her desperation, she asks Dr. Langdon to join her. To her surprise, he immediately agrees.

Which is how she finds herself in a fancy restaurant on a Saturday evening with Becca, Adam, and Dr. Langdon. Adam’s parents are also there, sitting a few tables away to give them privacy, but they have offered to pay for everyone’s dinner and Mel understands their worries – and is even slightly relieved –, so she doesn’t mind.

She’s glad to find that she does like Adam. He’s sweet and goofy and he looks at Becca like she hung the moon. Dr. Langdon is great company too, kind to Becca like he was when she was under his care, and interested in getting to know Adam. Everything is going well, and after an hour or so, Mel finally feels herself relax a little, not as scared anymore that disaster is about to strike.

That is until Adam asks how long she and Dr. Langdon have been together. He looks at them earnestly, seemingly unaware of how awkward the question is, while Mel freezes and Dr. Langdon nearly chokes on his piece of steak.

“Mel and I aren’t together,” Dr. Langdon utters after a series of coughs, eyes wide and cheeks slightly flushed.

Mel tries to regain her composure in the meantime, quickly nodding and laughing awkwardly as she points to the ring on Dr. Langdon’s finger. “Yeah, Dr. Langdon is married.”

Adam’s eyebrows furrow and he cocks his head, not unlike a confused puppy dog, as his eyes flick back and forth between Mel and Dr. Langdon. “Oh, I thought you were. You look at Mel like how I look at Becca, Dr. Langdon.”

Dr. Langdon’s gapes at Adam like a fish, while Mel wishes for the ground to swallow her whole. And of course, that is when Becca decides to make things even worse, grinning widely as she pipes up, “Yeah, and Mel constantly talks about how much she likes you.”

“As a friend, Becca,” Mel bites out, her face bright red with embarrassment as she sends Dr. Langdon an awkward, apologetic smile. Dr. Langdon’s own responding smile is equally uncomfortable, but the look in his eyes is soft and reassuring.

Mel finds the ring while they’re sitting in an airport lounge. They’re flying back to UPitt after spending going home for spring break – it had been a shock when they found out that they were from the same area a full year into their friendship – and Frank has just asked her to grab something from his weird colourful backpack when she notices the velvet square-shaped box.

“Frank, what’s this?” she asks, her hand trembling as she holds up the box to his face, his arm over her shoulder tightening and his cheeks growing pale in response. When he stays eerily silent, she continues, quietly, “Are you planning to–?”

She trails off, can’t get herself to utter the words.

“Yes,” Frank says finally, with a sigh, as he grabs the box from her fingers gently and opens it so she can inspect the ring, a simple rose gold band with a small princess cut diamond. “Do you like it?”

“It’s perfect,” Mel breathes, tears burning behind her eyes. “I didn’t know you were thinking about it.”

“I mean, we’ve been together for like three years,” Frank replies, but he doesn’t sound happy or excited. It sounds like he has to do it, like it’s not what he wants. It breaks Mel’s heart, especially when his eyes are pained when he murmurs, “It’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?”

“Right,” Mel agrees, a lump in her throat forming.

“Unless there’s a reason why I shouldn’t?” he asks quietly, and something indecipherable flashes in his eyes as he stares at her, his gaze intense and stormy.

It’s enough for something to catch aflame in Mel’s chest, enough for her to muster the courage to utter, “Abby is the one, right?”

Frank considers this for a moment, eyes still unreadable, and then shrugs. “I’m not sure, actually.”

“Then don’t marry her,” Mel declares, and she feels her cheeks flush as Frank leans in a little, his gaze trailing all over her face before settling on her lips. Her heart skips in her chest and she takes a deep breath, before continuing, “You should be with someone you’re sure about.”

She watches as his lips curve up in a smirk as he leans even closer, his breath fanning her face as a large hand settles on her jaw. “You’re right, I should.”

And before she knows it, his lips are on hers. She immediately responds by fisting his shirt in her hands, listening to his quiet groan as he deepens the kiss and pushes his tongue into her mouth. They only pull apart when a voice overhead announces that their plane is boarding, grinning at each other stupidly as they do.

“Congratulations,” a woman close to them says, and Mel suppresses a giggle as she looks down at the velvet box that’s still in his hands.

One of Mel’s favourite childhood memories is when she was ten and went stargazing with her Dad during a summer holiday. She remembers lying down in a field, the air humid and mosquitoes buzzing in her ears, as they gazed up at the night sky. Becca and her Mom had already returned to their cottage, neither of them appreciative of staying outside this late in the evening, so this moment was just for Mel and her father.

“I want to become an astronaut,” she remembers saying into the silence. “Wouldn’t it be amazing to chase the stars?”

Beside her, her father had laughed fondly. “You’ve always been a big dreamer, honeybee.”

Mel had just shrugged. Her father already knew her more realistic dreams – becoming a doctor, finding the love of her life and getting married, building a family of her own that is just as loving as the one she grew up in. What was the problem in adding an improbable one too?

“You’re going to go places, Melissa,” her father had continued after a moment, his hand slipping into hers and squeezing. “And I’m going to be the proudest father alive watching you do it.”

In that moment, Mel had never felt happier or more certain that all her dreams would come true.

But then came the heart attack. And then came the cancer diagnosis. And then she stopped dreaming.

Until she started at PTMC, until she met a senior resident with kind blue eyes, who told her to embrace her sensitive nature, who left and then came back to her, who learned to understand and love her unequivocally.

And now, she’s standing on a hotel balcony, staring at the stars with that same senior resident’s arms wrapped around her stomach, a tiny, new heart beating beneath his palms. Below them, the party is still in full swing, laughter, voices and music drifting up into the night sky.

All of their loved one are down there. Becca and Adam, Tanner and Penny, the doctors and nurses of the Pitt, his family from down south and their friends from the Ren Faire, even Abby and her new boyfriend. Maybe some of them don’t know where the bride and groom have gone, maybe others have noticed them slip away. Either way, everyone has left them alone to have their moment of private solitude.

Mel sighs blissfully and closes her eyes as her new husband buries his face in her shoulder. Behind her eyelids, she sees the stars she’s been gazing at, and she feels completely, perfectly, utterly happy.

Somehow, despite all the hardships she’s had to endure, all her dreams, the real ones, have come true.

It has taken a lot of convincing from Yolanda for him to come tonight. After getting sober and burning more than a few bridges at PTMC in the process, going to a bar with his colleagues might be his personal hell, he’s told her. But unfortunately for him, Yolanda is not the person to take no for an answer and his resistance has been futile.

So, here he is now, feeling miserable as he stands in a corner with Cassie, both of them nursing a glass of water, when everyone suddenly erupts in hollers and jeers. Looking up, he nearly feels his eyes bulge out of his head as Trinity, Samira and Mel walk in.

They have taken the time to dress up, it appears. Trinity’s wearing tight jeans and a halter top, while Samira’s in a navy blue dress. Mel, however, is the only one that catches Frank’s attention. In her white top with bell sleeves, her tiny denim skirt, and her silver heels, she’s quite possibly the hottest woman he’s ever seen.

Frank feels something twitch with interest below his belt as he ogles her, mouth open wide. He’s never known her legs look like that, and now that he does know, he can’t focus on anything else. In the back of his mind, he imagines touching the creamy expanse of skin, a thigh wrapped around his waist as his hand travels up her skirt and oh fuck, he’s in so much trouble.

Despite the instant carnal need that overtakes him, he also notices something else, though. Mel is clumsy and insecure on her feet, clearly not comfortable in high heels, and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s sidled up to her, just in time to catch her as she nearly trips, a sharp flash of pain shooting up his back as she falls against him.

He barely registers the ache, though, because her entire body is pressed against his, his fingers digging into her waist as he holds her up and prays that she won’t notice that he’s half hard. He can feel every eye in the room on them, suspicious and scrutinizing, and he knows there will be a lot of questions, but he finds that he doesn’t give a fuck.

“Sorry, I’m not used to wearing heels,” she breathes, and he squeezes her waist in response.

He hopes his smile is comforting and not sleazy as he looks her in the eyes intently and replies, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

He feels her body relax a little in his hold, her eyes softening into something sweet and molten. Her smile is almost coy when she whispers back, “I know. You always do.”

“Do you think this is a good picture for my Tinder profile?”

Mel looks up from her phone in slight alarm as Frank holds up his own to her face. They’re sitting on her couch, his legs spread out beneath him while hers are curled up against her chest. They’ve been hanging out in silence until he decided to drop that bomb.

“You’re creating a Tinder profile?” she asks, feeling slightly embarrassed at the wariness in her tone, but he doesn’t seem to notice it, just shrugging in response.

“It’s been a while since the divorce, and I think I’m ready to move on,” he says, and there’s something unreadable in his expression as he stares at her. “I guess this is the first step, right?”

She feels slightly disappointed, maybe even a little heartbroken at the idea, but she covers it up with a smile as she grabs the phone from him.

Looking at the picture, she purses her lips and frowns, before shaking her head. “This is blurry and half of your face is cut off. Also, there’s a stain on your shirt.”

Frank groans playfully, before reaching behind her and tugging at her braid. “Way to rain on my parade, King.”

Swatting his hand away from her, she hands him back his phone. “Sorry, it’s the truth.”

Looking down at the photo again, Frank grimaces. “No, you’re right. It’s just difficult to find a picture without my children or which isn’t my PTMC headshot.”

“Wait, I might have one,” Mel says, quickly swiping through her own phone to find the picture. Her heart aches a little as she texts it to him, because it’s her contact photo for him, a photo she cherishes a lot. Part of her feels possessive of that picture and doesn’t want to share it with other women. But it is a good one.

He’s sitting on this very couch in it, his dog next to him, a hand behind his head and a bright smile on his face as he stares at someone behind the camera – at her. His shirt is riding up slightly, revealing his happy trail. He looks gorgeous.

She watches him carefully as he stares at the photo silently, thoughtfully, and fidgeting a little, she tells him, “Trust me on this one, the ladies will all swipe right.”

He looks up at her, indecipherable expression on his face again as he moves a little closer to her. His eyes flick to her lips as he asks, “Would you swipe right?”

Feeling her face heat up immediately, she lets out an awkward laugh. “I don’t have Tinder.”

Frank hums in response, and she notices there’s a dangerous glint in his eyes as he murmurs coarsely, “You should get it. I’d swipe right on you.”

Cheeks still flushed, she rolls her eyes playfully, before averting her gaze and turning back to her own phone.

It’s the first time in years that Mel has gone to a Ren Faire. She’s almost forgotten about how much she used to enjoy the immersion in history and the fantasy of dressing up as anyone she wants to be. It makes her sad to think about how much she’s let life get in the way of doing things she enjoys, but she’s making up for it now.

Although it hurt at first, she will admit that maybe Becca getting together with Adam was for the best. Of course, Mel still worries about her sister, but their mutual independence has done their relationship good, both of them able to grow into their own person.

As such, Mel was not surprised or offended when Becca politely declines her invitation to go with her to the Ren Faire. They’ve never been Becca’s thing – one of the reasons why Mel stopped going – and she’s already made plans with Adam and his parents anyway.

The upside of this is that Mel can invite Dr. Langdon, who turns out to be just as much of a history buff as she is, much to her delight. Finally, someone will listen to her when she rambles about her interests, and finally, she feels like she’s building an actual lasting friendship.

The downside of inviting Langdon is that he looks unfairly good in a tricorn hat and a Revolutionary War costume. She thinks he also looks great in scrubs or jeans, but this is surely something else. She’s been barely been able to look him in the eye all day, afraid that her face might explode from the heat of her blush. It’s a small price to pay, though, for a whole day in his company.

The other downside to their outing is that the Ren Faire has become very popular in the past couple of years, which means the crowd is huge and completely overwhelming. She can barely see anything in the throng of people, bodies pushing and pulling from all sides, loud voices creating a cacophony in her ears.

Langdon seems to notice, because his voice is concerned when he asks, “You okay?”

Closing her eyes for a second as an elf bumps into her, she nods. “Yeah, I just don’t do well with large crowds.”

Frank is quiet for a moment and she can feel him watching her thoughtfully, before she feels his hand slip into hers. His touch is warm and strong, and while they’re both wearing gloves, she imagines his hand must be sweaty like it always is.

He squeezes her hand as he says softly, “I’ll get you out of here.”

Looking up at him, she squeezes back and smiles at him gratefully, literally putting her trust in his hands. She lets him pull her through the busiest part of the faire, the weight of his hand soothing her.

When they finally arrive somewhere relatively quiet, he doesn’t let go of her hand.