Kingdon Macrofic

The last place Mel wanted to be right now was in a loud, crowded, sweaty bar surrounded by a bunch of drunk people, and yet here she was. Samira had learned of her plans to ring in the new year in her pajamas with takeout food, she insisted that Mel join her, Trinity, Victoria, and Dennis as they went bar hopping. They had ended up at a bar that seemed popular with the local college students, as there was barely room for Mel to take a breath.

Lights were strung up across the ceiling, and the TVs all played the local news broadcast of the “Future of Pittsburgh” ball as it rose higher and higher the closer it got to midnight. In the corner, drunk college students stood on a small stage and sang karaoke very poorly into a microphone that was much too loud for Mel’s liking.

Trinity was walking back from having just sung (something by Chappell Roan that Mel couldn’t really hear the lyrics to) and was walking back when Mel noticed a gleam in her eye. She knew that look. It was the same look she gave Mel at every karaoke night that they went to together. As Trinity sunk into the booth that the group had managed to grab, she grinned.

“You’re up next, Mel,” she said. “I put you down for the mystery song.”

“What? Trin, why would you do that?” Mel groaned.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! You have a great voice, plus I saw that it was a duet so who knows, you might get to have your rom-com moment and meet someone,” Trinity teased.

Dennis interjected with a helpful, “Or she could be singing alone.”

“Or with someone weird and creepy,” Victoria said.

Mel groaned as she covered her face with her hands.

“Very helpful guys, thank you.” Samira said, turning to Mel. “Trin’s right, it could be fun. If it makes you feel better, it's loud and it's almost midnight, people will be focusing on other things anyway.”

Slowly, Mel pulled her hands away and sighed.

“Fine.”

Immediately, the DJ called her name, and while the others cheered and clapped for her, Mel walked towards the microphone. There was some rustling near the stage, but Mel couldn’t see clearly what was happening. Right she stepped up on the stage, someone was pushed onto the stage with her, nearly knocking her off. As they turned to face her, Mel gasped. She would know those eyes and that grin anywhere.

“Mel! Uh, hi! I didn’t mean to bump you like that, I’m sorry,” Frank apologized as he reached out to stabilize her.

“Dr. Lang– Frank! Hi,” Mel turned towards her friends in disbelief, and could see Trinity and Victoria grasping each other's arms and shaking each other in excitement. Her heart began to race. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t look into the eyes of a man she had a year-long crush on and sing infront of a crowd of people.

“So, are you two ready,” the DJ interrupted Mel’s thoughts, and as she turned back to face Frank, she could hear the music starting to play in the background.

Frank wrinkled his nose as he began to recognize the song.

“High School Musical? Really?” he said to the DJ, who merely shrugged in response. “Do you know the words?” he asked Mel.

“Of course,” Mel nodded, “Becca and I had a phase where this was all we would watch when we were little. I could quote the whole movie if I had to.”

Frank grinned as he turned to the microphone, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He had a pretty good voice if Mel had to be honest. As he sang the beginning of the song, Mel became transfixed. The low light of the bar mixed with the few lights pointed at the stage gave Frank a sort of halo around him that Mel couldn’t look away from. When he turned to her and locked eyes, the rest of the world faded away.

When Mel began to sing, Frank's smile grew impossibly bigger. Mel felt like she was the only person that existed. He had a way of making her feel like that. When they worked side by side in the emergency room, when he offered to drive her home, the few times they had grabbed a coffee after a long shift. He made Mel feel like she mattered. He knew what she needed before she knew, could anticipate every move she made.

It was why she had been harboring a massive crush on him. Her friends had, of course, all figured it out, which is why she assumed that Trinity and Victoria were freaking out. She couldn’t see them now, the crowd had begun to migrate towards where they had been sitting under one of the TVs. It must be close to midnight.

Mel turned back towards Frank as the chorus approached, and as they sang together, the bar began to count down. As the chorus reached its peak, cheering and clapping broke out among the crowd, couples kissed, and friends hugged. A loud pop startled Mel and when she looked up, she noticed confetti raining down from above. It caught the light as it slowly moved down, reflecting back in colors of silver and gold.

Mel locked eyes with Frank and fought back giggles at the confetti that rested on his hair. He reached out to her as he sang and brushed some off of her ponytail, and lingered as he slowly moved his hand back.

When they finished singing, and began to walk back to their respective friend groups, Mel grinned up at Frank.

“Thanks for joining me,” she said. “That was really fun!”

“Thank you, Mel,” Frank said. “That was the best possible way to ring in the new year.”

He leaned down, and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Mel could have died right then and there. She hoped the shock wasn’t too evident on her face, but the warmth she could feel all over likely gave her away.

“Happy new year, Mel,” Frank murmured, “I’ll see you at work.”

Then he turned back towards his friends, and left before she could respond. She stood there, mouth agape, and unsure what to do now that the entire world felt like it had shifted underneath her feet.

“Mel!”

“Mel! I told you you would do great!”

“Mel?”

Mel blinked, and turned towards Samira and the others. Samira stood with a questioning look on her face.

“Are you alright,” Samira asked.

They haven’t discussed it before—it’s only been three months since he came back from his leave, only four since his last blow-out fight with Abby—but it had been ten months since he realized he was in love with Mel King, so he figures it's been long enough. And his girl has been so good, so patient with him, almost to the point where he thinks Mel liked being his mistress, his best kept and most loved secret, and didn’t mind dragging it out a few months. But she also was impatient when she wanted something, he learned, watching her that day he came back trying so desperately to get the information she wanted from her sister, and all the days after—they’d been inseparable since. 

She’d wanted his location right away, liked being in constant contact, knowing where he was and what he was doing and who he was with. And Frank loved telling her. He ate the attention up willingly. Besides, he always knew he’d leave Abby once he met Mel. It’s just that he could only hide it for so long, before his love for her got too big to keep quiet.

And she was telling him that would be happening now. 

Mel put the cannon down on the windowsill and bit her lip, smiling.

“When she comes home, first thing, you’re going to tell her. The kids are staying at her mom’s a few extra days, remember? I saw it on your calendar. She was coming home for some alone time with you.” Mel crawls back into bed and sits on his leg. “I want everyone to know we’re together now.” 

Frank thinks about the looks they get over her shoulder, the ones she thankfully doesn’t see. Robby frowning at them tucked close outside on a cool, slow August evening. McKay’s face when his kids came to visit one time with Abby and they already knew Mel’s name—when Abby had frowned, he ran his hand through his hair, saying they ran into Mel with her sister one time at the mall. Something not entirely untrue. They had gone after Mel spent the night when Abby was on a trip with her friends, somewhere in Arizona, and they’d played with the kids the next day at the park and gone shopping together. They promised not to tell mommy, but couldn’t help but be excited to see Mel. Or the time Santos saw him tug on her braid, saw the way Mel flushed red and pushed her glasses up her nose, and turned away so dismissively it stung.

“Baby,” he moans, while she inches up his leg, dragging herself over him on her way to his dick, hard and waiting for her. “I don’t think they’ll be surprised.” 

Mel smiles at that and he wants to kiss the mole under her eye so badly, so he does, pulling her the rest of the way. He kisses wetly, mouthing at her cheeks all the way to her lips, letting her whine into him. 

Before they can go any further, she pulls away, pushing at him and tugging on his chest hair.

“So you’ll tell her?” she asks, eyebrows pinched and mouth tight. 

“Of course,” he kisses her once, twice, “of course. Then we’ll celebrate. We can go get more of those cannons if you want. We have all day, she’s not home until eight. Then I’ll come to your place, okay?” 

Mel pouts again but nods.

“I want to celebrate now,” she says firmly. She hovers over him, trying to get him inside.

Frank laughs, happy to do whatever she wants, and reaches to help her.

“No, it’s okay!” Mel jumps in. “We’ll get everything back together. Even if the puzzle skills don’t translate,” (she’s certain they will), “I’m nothing if not patient.”

My favourite detail specialist, back on the case, he’d said over the phone, and as she enters his home office, she can see why her services are needed.

According to Frank, Penny desperately needed confetti for a disco-tea-birthday party she was throwing and Tanner felt like being a helpful big brother. Helpful big brothers know that Dad has a paper shredder. Helpful big brothers see piles of documents laid out on Dad’s desk as the universe’s blessing to shred. The kids are noticeably absent, now, but the evidence of their mischief is impossible to ignore.

Mel surveys the scene, strips of paper in shades of cream and ivory all over the floor, and immediately drops to her knees at the edge of the mess.

“Oh, like right now?” He chokes out. 

“It’s what I’m here for,” Mel hums, already picking out two strips of paper and grouping them based on visible texture. When she turns her head, he’s just staring down at her. She blinks. “Well? Are you ready, Dr. Langdon?”

Frank swallows before snapping into action, wheeling over his office chair, and they get to work. Mel colour matches the paper on the ground, which she assigns letter groups before handing to Frank to assemble more cohesively on the desk. They’re on the hunt for one document in particular, Frank reminds her. Everything else can stay shredded, but he’ll know what to focus on once they start putting it together. Mel starts to build a few separate things. A glossy 8x10 photo that features a lot of white tulle, a couple of greeting cards with illustrations of cake toppers and suits, but eventually she starts to match up pieces of something that makes Langdon pause.

“Okay, more of group H. As many H’s as we can find. That’s the one I need for the appointment.”

Group H is a currently untitled document, but Mel knows it has a lot of heavy navy filigree along the border and a very subtle pattern beneath no-nonsense serif text. She starts to weed out any non-group H papers, and pieces things together until Frank breathes a sigh of relief. “We actually got it back,” he smiles. “Holy shit.”

Mel sneaks a peek at the desk. An Allegheny County Marriage license, for a Mr. Frank Langdon and a Ms. Abigail Winston, dated 2019.

“Thanks for the…,” Frank gestures to the document on the desk. “This will be super helpful.”

“Is it… Are you…?”

“It’s exactly what you think it is, I’m just not telling anyone at work. And I won’t be for a while.” He says, tracking her eyes. It’s a request.

People get upset in the ED. Tempers flare. Mel knows this—she’s used to this—but Yolanda’s comment had bothered her. Everything bothered her, after that day at the coffee shop.

It didn’t help that she was sick—sniffling, coughing, runny nose. The whole nine yards. 

“Mel!” Trinity shouts through the front door. She’s banging on it, the sound reverberating through Mel’s skull.

She’d hoped to stay in tonight, wallowing on her couch. Becca was at the center, her second sleepover this month, and Mel had the apartment to herself—except for Trinity and Samira bustling in, arms laden with grocery bags.

“Alright, we’ve got acetaminophen, mucinex, afrin no drip, throat lozenges, benadryl, pedialyte, cheap wine, green tea, veggie broth, more veggies, noodles, and chicken breast,” Trinity says, dumping her grocery bags onto Mel’s counter.

“For?” Mel follows them into the kitchen.

“You, silly.”

“Trinity, I have half this stuff already—I’m an adult. And a doctor.”

“You have ingredients for chicken noodle soup?” Samira asks. Gently, because she already knows the answer. Mel doesn’t cook.

“Guys, you really didn’t have to,” Mel whines. Scratch what she’d said about being an adult.

“But we did, and we’re here, so you’re going to sit on the couch while Samira makes you tea and I throw this shit in a pot.”

Sometimes, Trinity sounds like a drill sergeant. It would bother Mel, if it didn’t remind her so much of Frank—of what he sounded like when she needed someone to walk her through her bedtime routine, after the shifts that left her shell shocked.

A few minutes later, Samira walks over with a steaming mug and drops herself onto the couch next to Mel.

“Brainrot time?” she asks, the way she always does when they’re in the break room alone.

Mel nods, and Samira pulls tiktok up on her phone. They scroll through videos of someone cutting soap, a man making stick figures out of acorns, and a woman giving out book recommendations for adults who’d liked The Magic Tree House as kids.

Samira’s about to scroll past the next video, but the caption catches Mel’s eye: What Frank Langdon Did (Not) Write.

“It’s a tell-all memoir about his life up ’til now, right?” the woman on the screen says. She’s facing the camera, wearing a very serious, very black outfit. “So the book’s split into ‘before the move’ and ‘after the move.’ There’s a serious tonal shift, a sense of loss that comes with the departure for California. And it’s never really explained. He doesn’t actually say what he left behind.”

There’s a snort, loud and obnoxious, from behind the couch.

“What?” Mel asks, and Trinity rolls her eyes.

“He left you,” she says.

“That can’t be it.”

“Mel,” Trinity argues, looking to Samira for back up. “He literally wrote the book for you.”

“He wrote it for his family,” Mel counters. Because he did. It’s in the dedication.

“And for his light. Which is you, Melly. Why do you think Garcia calls you sunshine?”

She’d assumed it was because of the color of her hair. Or her sunny disposition. Everyone was always telling Mel she got too excited, too smiley. 

“He couldn’t have written it for me,” she starts, only to reword her thoughts when she notices Trinity about to interrupt—“and even if he did, it doesn’t matter.”

“Mel,” Samira says.

“No, it—it doesn’t matter. He still left. People like me, sometimes, or even—maybe even love me, and they still leave.” Because she isn’t enough. Not like Abby, not like his kids. “He’s still living in California, and he’s not coming back for me. So no, it doesn’t matter.”

She can’t look up, doesn’t want to see their faces. The pity on Samira’s face. The anger on Trinity’s. 

“Fine,” Trinity huffs, stomping back to the kitchen. “But you’re going to take that Mucinex, because you’re getting snot all over your sweatshirt, and then we’re going to drink wine and tea and water and forget all about Frank Langdon’s stupid face. Okay?”

“Okay,” Mel sniffles.

But it’s hard to forget about his face, she knows. She’s been trying for two years.

When Samira and Trinity finally pass out in her king-sized bed, Mel shuffles into the bathroom, robe pulled tight around her waist.

She dials a number she can’t forget, and lets the phone ring.

[2029-11-18, 02:19 minutes]

Hey Keepers. We're doing a special episode today. In light of my recent admission, y'all have been blowing up my DMs so I think it's high time we talk about this.” Frank began. “So get your coffee and settle in. Let's do an AMA.”

“Did you do this on purpose? Were you trying to trick us all to drive up numbers?!”

It was a fair question. If he were a Keeper, he'd feel the same way. Mel had asked him that too. He took her for coffee after their moment on the rooftop of PTMC. There was a lot to talk about.

When he read the question, his mind went back to the wide, bespectacled, mossy-brown stare as Mel pleaded with her gaze that she wasn't purposely tricked.

“No. It was never a gimmick or a trick. When you called the first time, your initials looked familiar and your voice was what gave it away. I knew it was you because it's what I want to hear when I don't know what to do or when I’m lonely. I didn't tell you because you were calling anonymously, meaning you did want me, as Frank, to know it was you.”

Mel stirred her coffee, mulling it over. “Then as soon as you found out, why didn't you tell me?”

Frank stared at the same question blinking at him on the Discord server. He was reading them all in her voice.

“I didn't want to humiliate or upset you. You obviously didn't want me to know. You believed you were telling a stranger. If I came up to you at work and told you ‘Hey, Mel, you just told me you loved me on my confessional podcast.’ you'd never talk to me again. I know you'd feel too embarrassed to even look at me.”

Mel opened her mouth to protest but closed her mouth when he gave her a pointed look. Finally she sighed and mumbled, “Yeah…yeah you're right. I would've been mortified.”

“But I'll be honest. I thought I was doing it to spare you of feeling embarrassed but I also kept my mouth shut because you were opening up. I loved it when you called or messaged me with a confession because I got to know you more…and knowing someone like you could feel that way about someone like me gave me hope that I wasn't so bad.”

Another question popped on the screen. “Was she mad when you told her the truth?”

Mel had smiled in a lopsided way when Frank finished talking. “I want to feel mad or betrayed but the truth is I don't. I think I would've done the same if I were you. What else could you have done?”

Frank ducked his head and scratched his neck, “I could have asked you to dinner way sooner. I could have told you I had feelings for you especially once I knew you were talking about me. You probably wouldn't have called in anymore and none of this craziness would've happened.”

Another question blinked. Another just like Mel asked. “Why didn't you tell her sooner? Why didn't you ask her out?”

“It's nothing to do with you. It was my self-loathing and-” Frank threw up a hand, exhaling. “I didn't think I was good enough. I'm not even 35 and I've been through a divorce, with two kids under seven, was temporarily unhoused, and a recovering addict. I just…I just felt like if I fucked up with you, my life would be over.”

“Shouldn’t I decide that?”

“Yeah, but it goes both ways. I didn't think I was the guy you believed I was. I didn't feel ready or worthy to be a good partner.”

“So…what's going on between you guys? Together or not????”

“We've had coffee a few times and we're just trying to figure things out. Alright Keepers, it's been real. I hope this clears stuff up and I've not hurt anyone with my admissions.”

There was a full on server crash out. Before the episode, he was public enemy number one. Now, he was met with well wishes, gratitude for his honesty, and empathy over him just being a man who didn't believe in himself enough to be with the woman he loved. They rallied around him and said he had to try. He owed it to himself and to MAK to make it work. He really did adore these people.

Frank switched off his headphones and recording gear before closing his laptop. A soft and dainty hand touched his shoulder before caressing his neck.

“Sorry. Did I wake you?” Frank asked gently.

Mel shook her head. “The bed was cold.”

“Are you cold? I can get more blankets and–”

“Come back to bed, please.*

Frank took her hand that rested on his neck and kissed her palm. They weren't having sex yet but since the night on the rooftop, Mel had been sleeping over. In his bed. Mel bashfully mumbled she wanted to know what it was like to wake up to him. They had agreed to take things slow but this was something Mel had asked for specifically. Frank would be damned before he said no.

In truth, it was doing him a world of good. Talking to Mel before bed, listening to her melodic, warm, low voice talk, laugh, sigh, grumble, or groan put a lightness inside him that he was unsure could ever exist. Then there was just the soft skin and hair, brushing against his face and body. Since his marriage was on the rocks and after the divorce, Frank had struggled badly with sleep. He hated sleeping alone, a habit he couldn't shake from childhood.

Mel, just as she always quietly and lovingly did, fixed that. They had both trembled in bed on the first night, a wide berth between them, both afraid of the tenuous ground they were about to embark on. As time stretched on, the trembling stopped. Mel being wrapped around his body surpassed any blanket or quilt. The softness of this woman was unparalleled and Frank was sure he'd never find it in this lifetime again.

“I'm happy you did. I want you to feel comfortable and happy with me.” I want you to stay with me forever. Tether your red string to me so we're never apart after this.

When they had woken up, Mel murmured against his collarbone that she never experienced warmth like that before. “I don't know how I'll ever go back to not having it anymore. I–I didn't mean to get so attached.”

Mel went to bed hours ago but woke up to find him. It was the fifth night sharing his bed. Earlier, she timidly asked him if it frustrated or upset him that he wasn't getting “physical gratification” from this. Once upon a time, Frank would have said yes. Having a beautiful girl in his bed with no kissing or anything extra would have been pure torture. He would have told her to piss or get off the pot, perhaps not in such crude terms but something along those lines.

He couldn't bring himself to say that. He couldn't deny it jarred him when he learned that he was Mel's first ever kiss. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her away with his pent up desire. When the urge overwhelmed his brain, he forced himself to think of those wide and earnest eyes, glimmering with crystal tears. It killed any drive he had.

When they crawled under Frank's covers, Mel wrapped herself around him, feet grazing his. Her head was buried in his chest and his nose was in her silk-soft hair.

“Are you asleep?”

“Not yet.” Frank mumbled. “You OK?”

Mel gnawed her bottom lip. Her eyes flicked to his and then away.

He kissed her forehead, drawing forth a shuddering exhale. “Talk to me, honey. It's gonna be OK.”

Mel was quiet for a while and then said in a voice so low that Frank had to strain his ears. “D-do you remember that night when I sent you a message from the on call room?”

Hell yes he remembered. Mel pulled back and reached up to stroke his jaw. “I cried in my car the whole way home. I felt wrong.”

“Baby, no! There's nothing wrong with what you did. God, I thought it was the sexiest thing anyone ever told me. Until we had that ,um, private call.”

Mel swallowed. Frank watched how her throat contracted and squirmed a little. “Can I ask you something?”

Frank nodded, afraid of his own voice.

“Did you finish? After that call?”

Frank let out a huff of laughter. “Uh, no. I think I panicked after you hung up. I thought I offended you somehow.”

Mel bit her lip again and stroked the hair from his eyes. “I did but…it wasn't good.”

“Y-you did.”

“Not like that exactly. I was really upset thinking I cheated on you somehow. I couldn't sleep for hours and I kept thinking about the things that, well I suppose, you said to me on the phone. I felt so terrible and tired I thought it would help me fall asleep. It didn't work.”

Frank shifted just a little closer to Mel, subtly pulling her by the waist so their hips were aligned. “That's not good. Sorry to hear that.”

Mel's lashes fluttered like butterfly wings as she locked her gaze on his. Her voice was a little rough and she still spoke in that low tone. “I haven't been able to do it since. I've tried. A lot.”

Oh….oh, Frank was sure he knew where this could go. He needed to channel the smooth and suave FML to make this worth Mel's time.

“Well I think we need to fix that. After all, I sleep really well when you're with me.”

Her hand slid into his hair, lightly bucking her hips into his. Frank lowered his head next to her ear, close enough to graze the edge, earning a quiet sound from Mel. “So it stands to reason that I definitely owe you.”

Mel boldly took hold of his hand resting on her hip and dragged it across her body before letting it drop down her pajama pants. Frank's mouth fell open. Unfortunately this panicked Mel and she nearly backtracked.

“No. No, baby, I want this. I want to touch you.” Frank crooned. “We'll still take it slow. We'll do as much or as little as you want.” He kissed her jaw, letting his lips meander against the curve. “But please let me make up for such a disappointing finish from the last time.”

Mel tilted her head back, sighing as she dug her fingers into his shoulder blade. “Then…then can I tell you a secret?”

Frank smiled against her neck. “Anything.”

“When we woke up this morning, you had quite an erection.”

Unwittingly, Frank's face went aflame. “Shit, sorry!”

“Don't be. It means you're a healthy male and it–” Mel stammered, “It excited me.”

“Did it now?” He slid his hand back down her pants and traced the waistband of her underwear. “Were you thinking about that all day?

“Yes.”

“Mmmm. That explains a lot. You seemed a bit distracted. Maybe we can try to satisfy that curiosity of yours. Can't have you daydreaming and making mistakes at work, you know.”

Mel's tongue darted out and she licked her lips. She took her hand out of his hair and lowered it down his boxers. Frank hissed at the feeling of her cool and dainty fingers wrapping around him. Mel brought her face up to his, breath warm and mingling with his. Their lips were seconds apart.

“Can I tell you something else?” Mel stammered.

“Yeah, go ‘head.”

Her words spread over his parted lips. “Touching you is making me wet.”

“It is?”

Frank smiled against her lips when she whispered, “You should see for yourself.”

Mel whimpered when his fingers slipped past the cotton waistband of her underwear and dipped carefully between her slickened folds. That action made her small hand wrap tighter around the base of him. Mel moaned, sliding her hand languidly down and up his dick.

“Go on. Tell me. Tell me everything, baby. I want all your secrets.” Frank panted as he swirled his fingers in her soft, slippery warmth. He earned a hitch of her breath and snap of her hips.

“Frank!! I–” Mel sobbed when his narrow finger slid inside her. He swore when she clenched around him.

“I wanna tell you something. I wanna tell you a secret of my own.” Frank choked.

“Please! Please, Frank, tell me!” Mel cried as she desperately tried to match the pace of how he was stroking her with two fingers now. Her hips bucked wildly and the heat of her forehead against his could surely burn him. If he didn't know better, he'd think she had a fever.

“Whenever I have a double and I'm told to rest in the on-call room, I read your old message and jerk off.”

“Oh!” Mel's mouth fell slack and her eyes closed.

“Yeah, honey, that's right. I keep thinking about telling you over and over again to be quiet because we don't want to get caught fucking.”

Her pussy and fingers clenched down in sync. Frank could feel his control slipping away but he didn't care. The sooner he came then he could focus purely on Mel.

“Maybe I'd have to bend you over the bed to keep it from making noise.”

Mel had no such problem with being noisy now. The gasps and moans were quickening and getting higher in volume and pitch.

“I wouldn't be able to wait for us to go home. I'd be so fuckin' obsessed and hot for you that I'd have to fuck your brains out when we're supposed to be sleeping. Just like we should be sleeping now.”

“Frank! Yes,yes yes!” Mel drew in a big gulp of air. “Oh, God, yes!”

“And when I'd get home from that shift, I’d imagine you waiting for me. You'd welcome me into our bed and help me relax before I fall asleep with you.”

“H-how would I–ohmygodfrankrightthere!” She arched back.

“You'd be so fuckin' sweet to ask if you could blow me. You'd know that's my weakness. You'd know that it makes me fall apart when my girl offers to do that to me.” Frank rasped, curling his fingers and stroking insistently against the spot that led Mel to slapping a hand over her mouth to stifle her scream.

Frank thrust hard into her hand when her thumb swirled the beading liquid and smeared it over the tip.

“And you'd know that, as soon as it was over, I'd return the favor. Fuck, we'd be in trouble because getting you off turns me the hell on. Round and round we'd go, all night and into the morning until we just can't. But it's worth it. It's worth every time you tried to come on your own and couldn't. It's worth every time I hated myself when I was done. We've got so much to make up for and–”

Mel crushed her lips to his and drank his words as her thighs clamped around his hand, body going rigid and making one final arch before collapsing. Frank guided her limp hand, still wrapped around him as he helped her bring his release.

Neither could barely breathe but Mel whispered, “Thank you.”

“Uh, I think I should be thanking you. Shit, that was better than anything I've ever done on my own.”

Mel smiled shyly, “I think you've ruined me for myself.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“I'm aware,” Frank calmed the woman, “You could not have convinced her to stay in today any more than I could have.”

At the center of the small party sat his sweet wife and their children. Marchioness* Melissa Langdon sat with her blue linen skirts flounced out around her for comfort, but he suspected it was mostly for their children's sake. Their eldest daughter leaned against his wife's back as she played with one of her dolls. The twin girls sat slightly further away but still in reach of their mother as they sang an off tune rhyme together. Both boys kneeled in front of their mother, hands waving in the air as they told her a story. Clutched to her breast was their weeks old baby girl.

He watched his wife realise he was there, her face lighting up. As one, his children turned to face the same direction as their mother.

“Papa!” His eldest son called out, running to Frank with his arms outstretched. Frank reached down and plucked his son up into his arms. Tanner curled himself against his father's shoulder, “Papa we saw a stag.”

“Did you?” Frank questioned as he made his way to the rest of his family. He felt Tanner nod against the side of his head.

“Yes we did,” his son's small hands guided Frank to look at him, “May I take some of our men to hunt for it?”

“You may not,” Frank denied as he dropped the boy next to his brother. The boys groaned as one as Frank knelt next to his errant wife. Leaning forward, he cupped Mel's face, making her look at him, “Darling why are you out of your confinement?*”

His wife smiled sweetly back, “When have I ever stayed in confinement as long as those doctors say I should? Besides, I have not steered us wrong yet.”

Mel was right, as always. Six children in eight years of marriage with none lost to illness or before they could be born and a mother with no complications after. A miracle by many standards. Frank rubbed his thumbs against the delicate skin of her cheeks, “A fair point.”

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the apple of her cheek. Leaning forward further, Frank pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear and whispered, “Just please start telling me when you decide to end your confinement. You had the men running around like chickens.”

“My confinement is over, dear husband,” Melissa cheekily informed him. Frank chuckled and pressed their foreheads together.

“I meant future ones, darling.” He felt his wife nod in response.

The couple broke apart, and Melissa stared at him with an odd look on her face, “You say that as if you are already planning for another member of our family.”

“I am,” Frank could hear some of his wife's maids gossiping quietly behind him. This conversation would be spread about the castle by this time tomorrow.

His wife watched his face before smiling brightly at him, “I look forward to it.”

*Marchioness is the female equivalent to Marquess.

**confinement was a tradition for much of history in which women would be confined to their rooms for a period of time after giving with only other women for company. In Tudor times, this meant being confined to dark rooms with the windows covered. Not pleasant at all. Nobility and royalty would have had their confinements for several months.

Today, she decided to treat the PTMC staff and bring in cinnamon rolls to make them smile. It was a fan favourite, something Dana had begged her to make from the day she found out she could bake, and today she relented.

She grabbed the treats along with a bag of various things—pick-me-up chocolates, sugary drinks, and some energy bars — and headed inside. It’s a flurry of movement, people running here, there and everywhere, and it’s hard to pinpoint anyone she’s familiar with.

It doesn’t actually take long to find anybody; the first person she sees is Mel, and not far behind is Frank. She knew about their friendship, how close they became after Pittfest, and she’s just glad that her husband had someone to talk to besides Cassie or Dana.

Upon further look, she sees they’re closer than just metaphorical friendship. There are small touches, easy smiles, and bright eyes. He’s looking at her the way he did when they got married, when he saw her in the wedding dress for the first time.

She feels some pit in her stomach at the thought, at the way his hand cradles Mel’s elbow as he leads her through the mass of people in their way. Neither of them has noticed her yet, and she feels small about it. How has her husband not noticed his wife?

“Abby! Is that you?” Dana’s voice cuts through her doubts, and she’s forced to smile and hold up the tray of buns that she originally came in to hand off. “Don’t tell me, you didn’t!”

Abby laughs, her eyes averting away to see if Frank had noticed her yet, but feels deflated when he’s nowhere to be seen. And Mel isn’t anywhere either. “I had some spare time, figured I'd drop these off along with other goodies.” She tries to keep her voice strong, her smile bright.

“You’re a darling, come with me,” She waves her forward. “You can help me set it out, update me on the little rascals, hm? Frank, don't tell me anything anymore.”

He doesn’t talk about the latest milestones that Millie has hit? That Tanner had gotten an award for being top of his class in spelling?

“Where is he anyway? I didn’t see him coming in,” She says, proud that she keeps her voice from wobbling.

“Oh, he’s probably with Mel. If you’re looking for him, look for Mel, and he’ll be right behind her. They’re two peas in a pod.” The charge nurse chuckles, unaware of the effect it was having on Abby