for @kingdonmicrofic day 4: sparks | 496 words | ao3

He was embarrassed. He was supposed to be showing the kids how to make a fire but couldn't get any sparks big enough to light the kindling. At first, it was child's play to laugh it off, to joke that it wasn't as easy as it looked in the movies, but now the situation was becoming borderline painful. The kids had foraged for things to decorate the fire's perimeter, eagerly participating in any way they could, and he was letting them down.

"Are you sure this is going to work, Langdon?" Andrew asked skeptically.

"I've made plenty of fires before. I know what I'm doing," he replied, not dismissively but certainly not with the softer, encouraging tone he usually reserved for his beloved troublemakers.

"Should we ask Mel? Her cabin already has their fire going," Jack piped up, pointing over to where Mel's girls were sitting. They were giggling and sharing s'mores. Mel was watching over them with a content look on her face. The fire illuminated her in its orange and yellow hues.

Frank clenched his jaw in frustration and shook his head. "No, we don't need to ask Mel. I can do it." He hit the rock against his knife with a renewed vigor.

"Don't you always say we shouldn't be afraid to ask for help?" His youngest camper, Aaron, asked softly.

He stopped for the first time in ten minutes and heavily sighed. He knew he shouldn't let his pride get in the way. His brood had already adopted some of his mannerisms—ones he hadn't even known he'd possessed until he saw them reflected back—and he couldn't, in good conscience, model stubbornness like this for them.

"Yeah, Aaron, you're right." He brushed the dirt off his knees and stood up, striding over to Mel's little corner.

"Hi ladies, very nice fire you've got going on here." Mel looked up at him with an eager smile like she was happy to see him. "Mel, I was wondering if you could help me with mine?" He scratched the back of his neck. "The rocks just aren't agreeing with me today."

"Ooh"s made the rounds among Mel's girls and he felt even worse about himself, if possible. The only thing that kept him from turning red in humiliation was that Mel's face hadn't changed at all. She looked at him with those big brown eyes, not a hint of judgment in them.

"Guys, don't be like that. Fire building can be very temperamental. Sometimes you need a little help!" She chided them lightly, making sure no one felt scolded but getting her point across all the same. Her girls loved her; Frank felt similarly. She turned to him with a kind look and said, "I'd love to help." He offered her his hand to get up and led her over to his camp.

for @kingdonmicrofic day 3: gala | 485 words | ao3 | cw: infidelity, brief mention of drug addiction/benzos

"Can't you try and look happy?"

"It just feels stupid when this is all a facade."

"We're still married, my last name is still Langdon, and we still live together with our two beautiful kids. What part of that is a facade?" Abby had an uncanny way of twisting things to make them fit her narrative. "Look, all I'm asking is for you to pretend we're still in love for one night. We're already here. It's a few hours then you can run back to your little girlfriend."

"Mel. You know her name is Mel," Frank interjected sharply.

Abby rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know her name is Mel, Frank. It's not like you were subtle with 'Mel this' and 'Mel that', talking about her like she hung the moon. I'm pretty sure you even moaned her name the last time we had sex so yeah, I know her fucking name," she spat out.

It was his fault for starting this up again. He should've been better at hiding his disinterest.

He and Abby had come to an agreement, she wanted to stay married for her reputation—the leeches she called friends would pounce if they knew she was in marital trouble—but they were both well aware their marriage was over. She never protested when he spent time with Mel and didn't come home or objected to him bringing her around the kids; he was damn lucky for that. When she told him to clear his calendar for the annual gala her company hosted every year, he had done so without complaint.

He had put her through hell the past few years with the benzos and then with Mel. Abby was bitter—she had every right to be—but she'd been very good to him. Would he like to officially be divorced so he could publicly date Mel? Sweep her off her feet at the end of a long shift? Yeah, he would. But Abby had stayed and supported him through rehab and all she'd asked for in return when his and Mel's affair had been revealed was that they stay married for a little bit longer. He doubted Abby's life plans included staying in a loveless marriage forever so he'd given that to her easily; Mel had understood. The collapse of their marriage wasn't solely on him but he did owe her for his part in it.

"I'm sorry, Abby. You're right. Let's not fight." He picked up her left hand with its gleaming diamond wedding band and gave it a kiss, playing his part of the dutiful husband. Her hand felt foreign in his, despite the fact they've been married for almost six years. It wasn't the hand he was used to anymore.

for @kingdonmicrofic day 2: champagne | 495 words | ao3

"Can I get a glass of champagne?" Someone asked from over her shoulder. A man with brown hair wearing a navy suit sidled up to her. He turned to see her eyes already on him and gave her a small grin, one that accentuated the dimple at the bottom of his chin. "You come here often?"

Mel furrowed her brow in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

Immediately, the man beside her turned bashful. "Sorry, that was supposed to be a joke. Since we're at a wedding…" He shook his head. "It was stupid."

Mel's face lit up in recognition, thankful to this stranger for explaining what he'd meant instead of making her feel dumb for not catching on. "Oh! No, it was a good joke," she moved to reassure him.

The bartender set the man's drink down in front of them but he made no move to grab it.

"Gotta hand it to them, for something as tacky as a backyard wedding, it looks nice," The man said while watching the flurry of activity. When he turned back, he grimaced at her expression. "Sorry, I did a fellowship in cynicism. It was a beautiful wedding."

She might've been deterred if it were anyone else but she didn't feel put off by his comment. His demeanor was open and warm, putting her at ease.

"I'd love a backyard like this," Mel admitted. "I used to garden with my mom when I was young. Well, I'd sit beside her while she did it. Does that count? I mean, people can learn by observing so while it's not the same as physically doing it, I think that still counts for something. Right?"

"Sure, it does. I'd trust you with my garden any day," he declared, so nonchalantly that Mel brushed off the fleeting idea he was flirting as quick as it had come.

She beamed up at him with wide eyes. "Really?"

He nodded, the strands of hair hanging over his forehead flopped in place. "For sure." He held her gaze with his intense blue eyes. "You seem like a very trustworthy person." Mel's eyebrows shot up in surprise and she broke eye contact, growing shy. She wasn't used to people spouting off compliments like they were nothing, especially in regards to her.

"Frank! Did you get my champagne, babe?" A woman's voice called and broke them out of whatever moment they had been having.

Frank grabbed the glass with a sheepish grin like he'd been caught doing something wrong. "Hopefully I'll see you around," he said before slipping away into the crowd.

for @kingdonmicrofic day 1: confetti | 499 words | ao3

He and Mel were sharing an apple in the break room when his phone buzzed. Frank reached for it, thinking it might be from Abby about the kids but found a message that contained only a single confetti emoji instead. It was sent into their day shift group chat by Princess. They weren't supposed to send non-work related things in the chat, as specified by Dana when it was made, but that rule had been broken too many times to count.

Frank promptly muted the group chat—something he should've done ages ago—and pocketed his phone, not wanting to get involved with whatever conversation was about to happen.

"Are you still coming over tonight, Mel?" Frank asked, slipping another apple slice into his mouth.

Mel nodded enthusiastically. "I just have to go home and grab my bag. I was in such a rush this morning that I forgot it."

Frank rested his chin on his hand and mumbled, "You know… this wouldn't happen if you just moved in with me." He had been trying to get her in his bed permanently for months now.

"Frank…" Mel started before the sound of the door opening made her go quiet. It was Emma; they both gave her polite smiles but didn't say anything. They hadn't told anyone of their new relationship status, wanting it to stay between them for a while. Mel had been particularly nervous about people figuring it out but it'd been almost six months and no one had said a thing to them. They thought they were in the clear.

Emma had to have sensed how awkward she'd accidentally made it by walking in because she was scurrying out the door as soon as she'd refilled her water bottle.

"That was close," Frank remarked, sweeping his hair back. "Do you think she heard anything?"

Mel paused before shaking her head. "I don't think so but I should go check on my patient in North 7," she replied before leaning over to give him a quick peck. "See you later."

Frank pulled her down for another before reluctantly letting her go. It wasn't enough that they worked in the same place, he wouldn't be content unless there was a way to physically glue himself to Melissa King.

He fished his phone out to check the group chat because while he had muted them for a reason, he was still nosy. Most of the messages sent after Princess' initial one were a bunch of "NO"s and crying emojis. Princess sent the devil emoji back and Santos—because of course he would find out from Trinity Santos—had said: I WAS 2 WEEKS OFF. LANGDON THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT. YOU OWE ME $50