Angsty Writer, Silly Goose

@kingdonmicrofic | 498 words | Rated T | Read on ao3 | Previous installments here | CW- morning sickness

July 6, 2031 (14 weeks)

Mel leaned back on her heels, resting her head against the cold porcelain. She focused on her breathing—in through the nose, out through the mouth. The last thing she needed was to wake up Frank. Today was a big day—Mel was determined to enjoy it.

Three days. She’d had three days of bliss—no nausea, no vomiting, no dry-heaving into toilets or trashcans. She thought maybe it was finally over, but alas, no such luck.

It was supposed to be. The morning sickness—anytime sickness, really—was supposed to resolve once she hit the second trimester.

She tried her best to follow the advice, be a good patient.

Eat small meals throughout the day- hard to do when nothing stays down. You’re nauseous when you eat, you’re nauseous after you eat, and most annoyingly, you’re nauseous when you’re hungry and want to eat but you can’t. Not to mention, by this point even the thought of ginger tea or candies restarted the rolling waves in her stomach.

Stay hydrated- she worked in an ER, she didn’t have that much time to pee.

Avoid triggers- again, she worked in an EMERGENCY ROOM.

One good part about working there was her access to IV fluids. Last week, Mel graciously allowed one of Emma’s trainees to practice their phlebotomy skills on her so she’d at least stop feeling so lightheaded.

She knew it was temporary, that it would all be worth it in the end. She willingly entered into the state of pregnancy understanding her sensory issues would be aggravated. Her breasts ached, swollen and tender—she’d already gained a cup size. Her emotions swung wildly without rhyme or reason. Most days, she teetered on the edge of overstimulation, pushing her to the very limit of her self-control.

But there was Frank, loving her, doting on her, praising how good a job she was doing growing their baby. Packing her lunches, making her tea, rubbing her back and feet after a long shift.

When they became friends, Mel needed time to adjust to being taken care of. Before him, no one ever had. Sometimes, she still struggled with it, worried she was too burdensome, too particular, too much. That one day, Frank would wake up and realize she wasn’t worth the effort.

Hyper-independence, her therapist said. A trauma response. A shield against abandonment, disappointment, pain.

Those old feelings and fears resurfaced during the pregnancy. But Mel also knew she was safe, she was loved. Cherished and protected in the home she’d fought to build with the man who gave her everything.

Mel picked herself up off the bathroom floor and crawled back into bed, grateful she still had four hours before her alarm.

The gift bags were waiting on the kitchen counter, the “Big Brother” and “Big Sister” shirts lovingly wrapped inside. She hoped Tanner and Penny would be as excited about the baby as she and Frank are to tell them.

@kingdonmicrofic | 500 words | Rated G | Read on ao3 | Previous installments here

July 1, 2031 (13 weeks)

Though most people would tell you July 1st is the worst day of the year to go to a hospital, it’s one of Mel’s favorites, excited for the challenges each new academic year brings. New cases, new faces, same-yet-different Mel.

While Mel loves the medicine, she loves the teaching just as much. She remembers her younger self, desperately seeking mentorship, longing for community. She’d had no idea how much the people she met on her first day here would impact her life. It’s an honor and privilege to be part of that. Doing it alongside her husband is an even greater gift.

Standing at the hub, Mel briefly surveys the parade of new people, noticing one in particular—hair up, with large glasses, and a wide, bright smile. The girl approaches Robby, hand out.

“Dr. Robinavitch? Hi! Nell Crane, nice to meet you!”

“Welcome to The Pitt, Dr. Crane.”

“Everyone calls me Nellie! I’m really excited to be here.”

Mel listens as Robby begins his first-day monologue. After the other med students and residents introduce themselves, Robby turns, “Your senior residents are Dr. Logan and Dr. Alvarez, report to them first. They report to either me or our other attendings, Drs. Langdon and King.”

Later, when Nellie asks to present a case, Frank directs her to Dr. Logan. Dr. Logan—Wes—has dark hair and a biting wit (Frank’s taken a shine to him over the years—Mel can’t imagine why).

The patient presents with symptoms of cholecystitis but ultrasound showed no stones or sludge in the gallbladder. As Mel watches them head to North 2, Frank follows the path of her eyes, meeting her gaze with a knowing smile.

All day, Nellie and Wes gravitate towards each other, quickly establishing an easy partnership.

In the afternoon, they lose one—auto versus ped. The patient’s caretaker, his grandson, accidentally forgot to lock the back door, walking downstairs to find it wide open, his grandfather missing.

After, Mel heads to the breakroom, seeing Nellie and Wes sitting on the floor through the window. Turns out, Nellie is her grandparents’ caretaker, necessitating her transfer from Temple. Mel opts to snack at her workstation instead.

After Frank and Mel finish their charting, they spy the duo chatting by BH2. As Mel moves to get up, Frank stops her, tilting his head towards them.

“Um, I hope this isn’t too forward, but uh, I’d love to get to know you better—you know, as colleagues? So, if you’re free—”

“Yeah?” Nellie asks, softly.

Wes squares his shoulders. “Can I buy you dinner, Nellie?”

Nellie blushes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah. I’d like that, Dr. Logan.”

“Please, call me Wes.”

“Okay, Wes. Where to?”

“Whaddya think, Dr. King? Think they’ll make it?” Frank asks, casually throwing his arm over her shoulder.

@kingdonmicrofic @kingdonmacrofic | 827 words | Rated T for violence against healthcare workers | Read on ao3 | Previous installments here

May 11, 2031 (Mother's Day)

She supposed it was her own fault. 

Their patient, Cameron Davis, male, 29, had been stabilized enroute by EMS. After running the initial response, they’d parked him in North 4, where he was currently dozing.

Emma was already there when Mel entered the room, checking his IV. As Mel reached the bedside, she looked over the chart.

The patient immediately started thrashing as he woke up, the bottom of his foot catching her squarely in the stomach. The iPad clattered to the ground as Mel doubled over in pain, wrapping one arm around her belly as her other hand clutched her thigh in a desperate attempt to keep herself upright. She screwed her eyes shut, gasping for air with shuddering breaths.

Her ears were ringing so loudly that she couldn’t hear Emma call the ‘code hula hoop’, didn’t hear the thundering footsteps of her colleagues bursting into the room. 

The ringing gave way to a cacophony of voices overlapping in the commotion:

“Get her a wheelchair!” 

“Hold him down!”

“Let me go, GET OFF OF ME!”

“4 of midazolam!”

“Somebody page McKay!”

“North 1’s open!” 

“Princess, call Langdon, Mel’s been attacked!”

“Get the police down here!”

"Out of the way, move it!"

The commotion receded as she was whisked away into a patient room.

So yeah, probably her fault. She should’ve paid closer attention, maybe she would’ve seen a sign… 

Which brings her to now.

“Dr. King? Kid, can you hear me? Let’s get her on the bed. Ready, three, two…” She recognizes Dana’s voice giving the orders. A blinding flash of light hits her eyes as they check her pupils. She groans, turning her head away, finally blinking her eyes open.

Dana and Donnie are with her, conducting her exam.

Dana squeezes her hand as Donnie completes the ultrasound. No signs of free fluid, internal bleeding or trauma on EFAST.

Mel knows the protocol by heart, knows what question comes next.

“Any chance you could be pregnant?”

She’s four days late. She was planning on taking a test after work, with Frank. She wanted them to be together when they found out… 

She nods.

Mel shivers involuntarily as Donnie adds more gel, keeping her eyes on the screen as he guides the wand across her belly.

Her breath catches. There it is, clear as day. The gestational sac, the fetal pole, a tiny flutter.

A baby. Their baby. Somewhere around six weeks, based on her estimation.

At that exact moment, Frank bursts into the room, completely disheveled and out of breath.

“Mel, oh my god. What happened, are you—?” He makes it about halfway to her bedside when he fully takes in the scene before him, his worried expression giving way to shock and awe. “Wait—is that? Are you—?”

She nods, automatically reaching for him. He rushes to her, clutching her tightly, murmuring softly into her hair. He pulls back to kiss her forehead, then her lips, before wrapping her in his arms once more.

She gives his hair a gentle tug. He understands her signal immediately, releasing her from his hold and grabbing her hand instead. “Baby, oh baby, I love you so much. I was so scared, Mel, you’re really okay?”

God, she loves him. “Yes, I’m okay. More than okay, I’m—there’s a baby. We’re having a baby, Frank.”

Dana clears her throat and they both look up, so immersed in their happy little bubble they’d briefly forgotten where they were. “Congrats, you two. How’s about I give you some privacy?”

Dana hugs Mel first, congratulating her with a kiss on the cheek. When she hugs Frank, Mel hears her whisper, “I’m proud of you, kid,” before leaving the room.

They listen to the heartbeat before getting a printout for the fridge, making plans to follow up with OB. Emma comes by shortly after, both to check on Mel and take a sample for the ordered bloodwork. She also updates her on the patient: there were no predictive behavioral nor clinical signs to warn them, nothing preventative either of them could have done. It wasn’t Mel’s fault, just bad luck.

McKay, the other attending on today, checks in as well, dropping off the discharge papers for Donnie and letting her know Robby agreed to cover the rest of her shift.

Mel knows she’ll have to fill out an incident report, but that was a problem for another day. Right now, all she wanted to do was go home, cuddle on the couch with Frank, and stare at the ultrasound picture until she couldn’t anymore. It strikes her then how much life’s changed since the last time she’d had to do one, smiling to herself as she walks hand-in-hand towards the lockers with her husband.

@kingdonmicrofic | 500 words | Rated T for mild Melmisery, reproductive angst | Read on ao3 | Previous installments here

May 4, 2031 (Six Months of TTC)

Since Abby has the kids for Mother’s Day, they always celebrate with them the weekend before.

The day started off perfectly.

Mel awoke to the sound of giggles as the bedroom door swung open, revealing her husband holding a tray, flanked on either side by Tanner and Penny. She sat up in bed as the kids settled in beside her, talking over each other in excitement.

“Guys, she just woke up, give her a second!” Frank chuckled. He placed the tray on her lap, giving her a quick peck—both laughing at Tanner and Penny’s unison “eww!”.

They’d made her favorite breakfast: pancakes and bacon, with a glass of fresh orange juice. Alongside her plate was a pink carnation.

“Wow, this looks amazing, thank you!”

The kids beamed. “Daddy, can we do gifts now?”, Penny asked, holding something behind her back.

“Sure, if Mel wants to before breakfast. It’s her day, she gets to decide!”

The gifts were beautiful. A blue glitter heart adorned the front of the handmade card. “Happy Mother’s Day, Melly! We love you!” was written inside, alongside the kids’ and Frank’s signatures. There was also a gold heart-shaped locket, a picture of the kids in one half, the other empty. As Mel ran her finger over it, Frank noticed her wistful expression.

After Frank handled breakfast cleanup, they all watched a movie before he took the kids back to Abby’s later that afternoon.

It’d been a lovely day. Yet Mel finds herself crying in their bathroom, the unopened pregnancy test mocking her from its place on the counter. She’s 12 days DPO, the perfect time to test, but she can’t bring herself to do it.

She knows the statistics—they have six more months of trying before their failure to conceive becomes concerning. Still, with every negative test, Mel’s heart breaks a little more.

“Mel, honey, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Frank stands in the doorway, frowning.

She startles, quickly brushing the tears away. “Nothing, I’m fine.” She brushes past him into their bedroom. “I didn’t hear you come in. Drop off go okay?”

“Don’t deflect, honey. I know it’s not nothing.”

He knows her too well. Most days it’s a good thing. 

She sits on their bed, avoiding his gaze and fidgeting with the locket. She feels the bed dip with his weight. “Can I hold you?” he asks.

She nods wordlessly. He wraps his arm around her—warm, steady, secure. 

“Did you take the test?”

She shakes her head. “It’s just—I can’t, Frank. We’re having a great day, I don’t think I can handle another negative. When my period comes, we’ll know.”

She finally looks at him, letting the tears come. He brushes them away with his thumbs, tenderly caressing her face. She grabs his wrists, lightly tugging until he lowers his lips to hers.

They sit together for a while, foreheads touching, just breathing in the silence.

“Would you be okay if we took next cycle off?” Mel asks.

@kingdonmicrofic | 498 words | Rated E for sexual content | Read on ao3 | Previous installments here | A/N: apologies for the delay, life stuff got in the way yesterday. Today's microfic will be posted sometime this evening!

“Please tell me it’s not true!”

She bolts upright in bed with a gasp as he bursts into her bedchamber, clutching the sheets to her chest as she fumbles for her spectacles on the nightstand.

Setting them on her face, her vision clears to see the distraught expression painted across his features, eyes swimming with tears.

“You cannot be here!” she whispers. “You know it is improper to be alone with an unwed lady, let alone in her bedchamber!”

He quickly kneels beside her bed, cupping her face in his hands. “My lady, please, I beg you, tell me it is not true. I must hear it from your lips.”

She whimpers, removing his hands from her face, holding them in her lap. “Alas, it is true, I am engaged to another. Though you must know, ‘twas not my choice but my father’s doing. ‘A fine match befitting a governor’s daughter,’ he said.” She shudders. “My protests fell on deaf ears. I’ve been in misery since, praying you’d return to end this madness.”

“I know I am a captain in name, but a filthy pirate in practice. I wrote ahead to the doctor, he’s taken me on as his apprentice. A noble, honorable profession. Will that be enough to impress your father?”

She gasps, “You’d give it up…for me?”

He nods, “I would do anything for you, dearest.”

“I’m afraid there isn’t time. Papa insists the wedding proceed in two months’ time. But…I’ve concocted a plan: the marriage would not proceed were I carrying another man’s child. He’d have no choice but to let us marry!”

“You’d give me your virtue? Now?”, he says, shocked by her proposition. “My love, have you been…educated on these matters?”

“Yes. My ladies maid explained everything.”

“Well then, I shall oblige. I must make you mine.”

He unties the silk ribbon of her nightdress before making quick work of his breeches.

As he notches himself at her entrance, her eyes are shut tightly, as if she’s bracing herself. “Dearest, please look at me.” She does, so beautiful, and he finally, finally kisses her as he slides inside.

He waits as she adjusts to his size, soothing her with kisses. He begins thrusting slowly, ensuring her comfort before quickening—trying to finish expeditiously lest they be caught prematurely.

Just as he reaches the precipice, she cries out, “Please Captain, give me your child!”

He roars as he cums inside her, tightly gripping her hips as they ride out the storm together.

Mel sighs. “Thank you for doing that, Frank. I really liked it.”

“Are you kidding? That was so hot, Mel. I’d love to do it again.”

Mel had done a lot of research before they started trying. Timed intercourse can become a chore due to the lack of spontaneity. It’s good practice to incorporate new elements, keep things fresh. Hence, historical roleplay.

@kingdonmicrofic | 499 words | Rated E for explicit sexual content | Read on ao3 | Previous installments here | A/N: This one was so much fun. Frank, my horny loser freak, you are so dear to me.

December 8, 2030 (First Anniversary)

Frank took the cake out of the freezer before they left for work that morning. He would have preferred they took the day off, not left their bed, but hey, at least they were scheduled together.

It felt auspicious to Frank that Mel’s ovulation window coincided with their anniversary. He wasn’t religious, but it seemed like a sign.

Mel’s IUD was removed last month—tonight would be their first shot at getting her pregnant. He just had to make it through this shift first.

All day, his mind wandered. He tried to keep it in check, but fuck—the thought of her, round, glowing, full of his baby, made him absolutely feral. He spent most of his shift half-hard in his scrubs, delirious with the thought that tonight he’d go home, enjoy their wedding cake, and then knock her up.

He kept picturing it, Mel spread out on their bed, her perfect pussy lush and ripe, just begging to be filled.

He’d take her apart slowly with his tongue first. “I can’t get pregnant that way, Frank”, she’d tease, blushing the way he loves, but he’d ignore her, relishing her taste. Only when she’s boneless and panting, begging him so sweetly, give it to me, please, I need it, will he slide home inside her.

He’d savor it, make it last, ideally making her cum at least twice on his cock before giving her what she asked for…

No Frank, down boy! Focus on the patients. 

Unfortunately, this all made him a bit…testy, keyed up as he was. If it wouldn’t affect his sperm concentration, he’d have taken five minutes to jack off in the bathroom for some relief. But since he couldn’t, he gritted his teeth and soldiered on. He channeled that energy into clearing beds, running trauma after trauma alongside his perfect, brilliant wife, the best attending duo PTMC had ever seen.

He wanted nothing more than to push her up against their front door the second they got home, give her a baby right there in the foyer, but he knew Mel wanted to take a beat before they got down to business.

He plated the cake as she showered, doing his best not to join her, her gorgeous body wet and glistening…

After they finished, Mel wrapped up the leftovers. He nestled in behind her, nipping at her neck while his hands caressed her lower abdomen. “Happy Anniversary, baby. Wanna make a baby with me?”

Mel whined, purposefully rubbing her ass against him. She’s just as bad as he is—insatiable, greedy, a bit freaky (best discovery of his life when he’d learned that).

He pulled away, knowing if they kept going, they’ll end up getting down and dirty right there on the kitchen counter. If it doesn’t take, maybe they could try that next month. His mind flitted through all the places he could give her his cum, the positions they could try...

@kingdonmicrofic | 500 words | Rated T | Read on ao3 | Previous installments here | TW: mentions of parental death, discussions of grief and motherhood

October 27, 2030 (10 months post-wedding)

After almost a decade of being responsible for everything alone, it took Mel a long time to adjust to her newfound freedom. To discover who Mel King really was—what she liked, what she wanted.

Though she’d started that process before she and Frank began dating, being with him helped. For the first time since her mother’s death, Mel had someone else to help carry the weight. 

However, some things she needed to do alone.

She planned this for a day when Frank would be out of the house for a while, running errands after dropping off the kids at Abby’s. He would’ve helped her if she asked, but she knew she needed to do this solo. Mel often needed space to process. No one knew that better than Frank.

She pulled the bin down from the attic and into the spare bedroom, dust and cobwebs wiped away. 

As she opened the bin, the familiar scent of smoke hit her nostrils, like a kiss from beyond the grave. Pulling out the baby blanket, she traced her fingers over the embroidery, ‘Melissa’ stitched in lilac thread, as the memories came.

Before they explained why, Mel sometimes got angry when their parents treated her and Becca differently. 

“It’s not fair. When I’m a mom, I won’t do that. When I’m a mom, my kids will be equal.” This was the inner monologue of a child who’d yet to realize parents aren’t gods. Rather, they are made of flesh and bone—fallible, human, mortal.

At her bedside years later, Mel watched her mother’s vitality slowly fade away. There just wasn’t enough time to answer all the questions Mel wanted to ask. 

Holding the blanket to her chest, Mel let herself cry. For the girl she was. For the woman she is now, ready to become a mother without her own.

She’ll never experience that sacred shared bond between mother and daughter as the daughter has her own daughter (or son). 

She’ll never be able to call, asking what to do when they won’t sleep or eat. When they push someone at recess or get a D in math. When the first teenaged wail of “I hate you, mom!” cuts like a knife. 

Mel let the tears fall as she assessed each item, the onesies, rattles, and toys. A stuffed pink bear, a cute rubber ducky, a pair of crocheted booties. 

By the time the bin was empty, a smile replaced the tears as she surveyed her artful display on the bed, ready to show Frank when he came home.

She was terrified of taking this step and losing him, like her mother had. She’d already lost so much, grieved for so long. She couldn’t let that fear steal this from her too. 

She’d asked Frank to give her a year, and that year was coming to an end. The hole in her heart, the space in her womb, the room she currently stood in, were all yearning to be filled.

@kingdonmicrofic @kingdonmacrofic | 1240 words | Rated T | Read on ao3 | Previous installments here | Inspired by The Last Five Years "A Miracle Would Happen"- with a twist. This plot bunny refused to be contained to microfic form so here's a macrofic for you! <3

April 6, 2030 (Four months post-wedding)

Mel was plenty used to women flirting with Frank at work.

They flirted with him when he was married to Abby, they flirted with him when he was divorced, and they continued to flirt with him now that he’s married to Mel. The presence of either of his wedding bands hadn’t been a deterrent for the women of the Greater Pittsburgh Metropolitan Area.  

It genuinely didn’t bother her. No really, it didn’t. (Mostly true, though it had— briefly— during the time between his divorce and their first date. She'd watched an endless stream of patients flirt with him almost daily and slowly prepared herself for the inevitable, when Frank would date someone else and wouldn’t need Mel anymore. How wrong she’d been.)

Most of the time, Mel didn’t give much thought to her appearance, mostly dressing for comfort and practicality. She spent all day dodging vomit, blood, and any number of other bodily fluids and projectiles—the most dressing up she did for work was adding simple earrings or a pair of fun socks.

However, in the early days of their romantic relationship, Mel worried she wasn’t enough for him. She’d only ever been called ‘cute’, never ‘beautiful’ or ‘gorgeous’. She’d spent her school days ignored by members of the opposite sex, with the exception of a boy asking her out in seventh grade as a prank and his entire friend group making fun of her after.

Mel started silently doubting his attraction to her despite strong evidence to the contrary. She’d kept this to herself though—men don’t like insecure women.

One time, they were on a lunch date at a deli near her apartment. Mel had gotten up for refills while Frank finished his corned beef sandwich, and the most gorgeous woman with a truly impressive set of breasts (Mel had eyes, okay?) gave him a slow once over, smiling and batting her eyes as she walked past him. Though he’d paid her no mind, Mel felt her stomach drop.

That night, during one of their steamy make outs, Frank’s body perfectly blanketing her own, her mind wandered back to those moments as he kissed down her neck. Feeling her tense beneath him, Frank stopped and braced up on his elbows to make sure she was okay. To her horror, Mel sniffled, a single tear escaping her eyelid.

He held her tightly as she let it all out, revealing her deepest insecurities to him—that he’d get bored of her eventually, how women looked at him and didn’t even notice she was there. How he looks like that but she’s just Mel. She even wondered if he considered her a downgrade from Abby in the looks department.

“Oh Mel, honey, no.” He kissed her so softly that it broke her heart a little. “The only woman in that deli I wanted was you. The only woman I want all the time is you. Lately, it’s pretty much all I think about. You’re it for me, Mel.” (He promptly showed her just how much he wanted her.)

(It hadn’t bothered her much after that.)

All that to say, she wasn’t surprised that it continued, heck, even increased, once his new ring took up residence on his finger. She knew her husband was attractive, but she also knew he was incredibly attracted to, and devoted to, her.

However, in a strange twist, something unexpected had started happening.

The first time was a week after they returned from their honeymoon. Mel entered North 2 to sign off on Dr. Campbell- R2’s treatment plan for one Colin McBeath, age 27, tall, fit, and covered in tattoos. Spotting her ring, he’d smirked and said that her husband was a lucky man, but he could probably do it better, if she’d like.

She told Frank about Colin’s shameless flirting as he drove them home after their shift. They both laughed it off and Frank kissed the back of her hand at the next red light. He wasn’t bothered—Mel was a big girl and an excellent doctor who could take care of herself. And if she couldn’t, she knew where to find him or Ahmad at a moment’s notice.

It happened again three shifts later, and this time Frank saw it for himself. This time it wasn’t the patient, but his son. Daniel Parkman, 35, was objectively handsome but in a sweet and nerdy kind of way. (Turns out, sweet he was not.) 

Frank frowned and crossed his arms, but said nothing. He’d only step in if Mel needed him to. Luckily, they were interrupted by transport returning the elder Mr. Parkman to his room after an MRI, providing Mel with an easy escape before she turned the patient over to Shen at shift change.

It happened again the following shift, then again two shifts after that. Once it happened three times in one night, when Mel covered for Abbot in early February. Sometimes Frank saw it, but he mostly just heard about it after the fact.

He’d seen Mel get flirted with here and there, but now it was becoming constant. Last shift, Frank asked her how the heck she’d put up with watching women flirt with him all this time and she simply shrugged and said bluntly, “I know you’re coming home to me, so it’s fine.”

Frank wasn’t confused as to why it was happening—his wife was brilliant, beautiful, and kind. Men should be falling over themselves to flirt with her. He was mostly curious as to why the sudden and noticeable uptick. He got flirted with plenty, ring or no ring.

Wait, that was it. This all started after Mel began wearing her mother’s gold wedding band at work. She usually only wore her engagement ring at home, too nervous about knocking the diamond out of the setting or losing it inside a patient.

It was like adding a ring had made her more attractive, more visible. Like another man finding her desirable and claiming her suddenly made her more valuable in their eyes. It honestly pissed him off a little.

Frank shared his theory and findings with Mel over a quick lunch in the breakroom on their next shift together.

“Frank, would you prefer I don’t wear my wedding band at work? I wouldn’t mind less attention, and I wouldn’t want you to get…” She trails off, biting her lips in an effort to keep her thoughts inside.

Frank raises an eyebrow at her. “What? What were you going to say, Dr. King?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Tell me, Mel." He turned on that voice, the one he knows gets her going. "Were you going to say you didn’t want me to get jealous?”

She blushed, playfully refusing to meet his gaze.

He chuckled, getting up from his chair and kissing the top of her head on his way to throw out their trash. “Don’t stop wearing your ring unless you want to, sweetheart. If you think it’ll help patients flirt with you less, that’s entirely your decision to make. However,” he pauses, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “I like when you wear it. Shows everyone you’re mine, that it’s me you come home to.”

He straightens up, winking as he heads back out onto the floor, leaving her flustered and winding her up for later.

@kingdonmicrofic | 500 words | Rated G | Read on ao3 | Previous installments here

December 22, 2029 (14 Days post-wedding)

Mel couldn’t help but feel nervous. As soon as she told him, it would become real, tangible, no longer an abstract idea.

Returning from her shift that evening, she rounded the corner to find Frank organizing the gifts piled beneath their tree. She watched him silently for just a moment, the last before everything changed.

“I have a surprise for you.”

Frank looked up as she entered, face scrunching curiously. “I thought we weren’t doing presents until Christmas Eve.”

She produced the manilla envelope from her bag, biting her lower lip in anticipation. “I couldn’t wait.”

With a jolt, Mel realized how this might look, considering the last time he’d received one of these. “It’s a good surprise, I promise.”

He opened the envelope with shaking hands as she spoke.

“I want you to know I’ve thought about this a lot. I never planned on doing this if I ever got married. I’ve lived my whole life with this name. I share it with Becca. It’s on my degrees and medical license. It’s who I am.”

Mel set the envelope aside before taking his hands.

“But I’m also building a new life – with you. I’ll always be a King, but I want to be a Langdon too. I want to share a name with you, and – um…” she trailed off, preparing to deliver the bigger surprise, “with our future children.”

“Mel,” Frank started cautiously, “Does this mean…”

“Yes. I want a family, Frank. With you.”

His hands immediately moved to her jaw, tilting her face up to his in a searing kiss.

“Oh my god, Mel, baby. Thank you, thank you, I just – wow, I love you so much,” he uttered between his peppered kisses.

“I didn’t mean right this second!” Mel laughed, once again grateful for her IUD.

Truthfully, it wasn’t that much of a surprise. They’d talked about it while they were dating, and again before the wedding. Mel wasn’t sure about kids and Frank deferred to her. While he’d love more, he’d be perfectly happy if they decided their family was complete as-is.

“Any thoughts on timeline?”

“Um, maybe we start trying next year? I’m still a first-year attending, I need to focus on that right now. Plus, we need to plan, make budgets – oh, I should email the benefits coordinator about short term disability coverage…”

“Melissa King-Langdon, only you could make an HR email sound sexy.”

Mel snuggled into his chest. “I’m saying, I’m not ready just yet, but I wanted you to know I want this, if you still do?”

Frank kissed her forehead. “Of course I do. I think that all sounds perfect. Plus, it gives us a whole year to practice,” he said with a wink.

@kingdonmicrofic | 500 words | Rated M for sexual content | Read on ao3 | Previous installments here

December 8, 2029 (The Big Day)

Before:

On a sunny day in December, Melissa King married Frank Langdon.

Months of planning, years of love, and a lifetime of waiting had all led to this.

Everything was perfect. The guests were seated, the music was playing, bridal party in position.

All she had to do now was walk through that door.

Mel’s stomach fluttered. Clutching her bouquet, she felt a steady presence settle in beside her.

“You ready, kid?”

Mel took a deep breath, took Dr. Abbot’s arm, and nodded.

The moment the doors opened, everything else fell away. All she saw was him.

After Frank had kissed his bride, Mel’s eyes caught on the empty seats in the front row, reserved in memory of her parents. As the officiant introduced them for the first time as a married couple, she felt their spirits in the room with them.

Her heart had never been so full.

During:

“All those days watching from the windows All those years outside looking in All that time never even knowing Just how blind I've been”

Immediately following their first dance was the joint family dance- Mel with Dr. Abbot, Frank with his mom. A third of the way through, Frank’s dad cut in, welcoming her to the family.

As the DJ invited their guests to join, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Taking her hand, he said, “I’m really happy for you Mel. And I’m so proud. Of both of you.”

She did her best to fight back tears as Dr. Robby guided the final steps.

Over his shoulder, Frank’s gaze met hers.

“All at once, everything is different Now that I see you.”

After:

She was convinced they’d be too tired. While it had been one of the most magical days of her life, she was utterly exhausted.

Shoes discarded, they beelined for the bed, not finishing undressing just yet. Mel laid peacefully in Frank’s arms, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat pulsing against her left hand. Frank nuzzled his nose into her hair, pressing a soft kiss to her head.

“Was it everything you hoped it would be?”, Frank asked.

Mel hummed softly. “It was. Everything and more.”

Time slowed as their lips met. No further words were spoken - none were needed - as they moved together in perfect harmony.

He laid her down gently, pulling up the fabric of her dress- giving testimony between her thighs.

This isn’t a feast. No, it’s reverence. It’s worship. It’s the belief that a higher power’s plan brought you together. And as he enters her as one would a temple, they worship at each other’s altar, enshrining their holy union in sacred bliss.

After, Again:

“Guess you can’t get an annulment now,” she says, playfully.

He frowns, “That’s not funny, Mel, I would never...wait, joke?”

She giggles, kissing his frown away before he tenderly returns her kiss.

He holds her left up next to his, admiring their rings side-by-side. Matching gold, snug and secure.