#continuing

‘She’s getting me a wheelchair isn’t she?’ Mel didn’t respond. Frank glanced over to see the weirdest look on her face. Eyes overly large, eyebrows damn near hitting her hairline. She was staring at his chest. The bruising must look horrendous by now. He pulled back the ice pack, shivering at the icy droplets sliding down his chest. It was sweet how she cared. He noticed how she swallowed heavily in that way she sometimes did when trying to give herself a moment to steady herself.

The colours were striking against his ridiculously pale skin. His side ached. He had so far refused all pain meds. This was manageable, he’d suffered worse. Verifying Whitaker’s check, Frank gently probed his ribs. No sign of his ribs giving way. Mel shook her head, braid flying behind her.

Her gaze became more assessing. Doctor Mel appeared before him. Leaning down to examine his ribs. Frank did his best to resist the urge to puff up.

‘How’s the pain?’

‘Manageable.’ Her staring up at him from her current stance. Bent over, over the top of his glasses at him was just plain dangerous. Especially as her face was that mix of stern and compassionate that only work for her. He was suddenly very aware of the level of exposed skin and how close she was.

‘May I?’ Her hand hovered at the small gloves on the table just behind her. He nodded unable to trust his voice. Or his impulse control.

Frank turned his gaze to the ceiling. Trying to pretend it was anyone else. But there was no mistaking the gentle, light touch that only she could have. Her hands were cool and worked efficiently across his skin. Frank rattled off medical procedures in order of increasing complexity as she evaluated him.

‘I don’t think anything is broken but I agree an X-ray to confirm is the best course of action.’ She snapped off her gloves and Frank had a flash. A really inappropriate image of her playing the sexy doctor. Time for his yearly physical.

Get a grip. She’s your friend – stop being a creep – what few rational brain cells scolded him.

That was going to haunt him. He nodded still not willing to trust himself to speak.

Dana whistled from the other side of the curtain.

‘C’mon princess your carriage awaits.’ Dana bowed to him jokingly. Mel passed him a replacement ice pack. Was she blushing slightly? Usually he’d have refused the wheelchair but the combination of Dana and Mel disapproving and worried looks respectively meant he reluctantly sat down. Dana took control.

Cheers and jeers followed him as Dana wheeled him to radiography. Abbot had fast tracked his scan. The portable ones did not have enough detail for him. Sometimes he was such a worry wart. The fact that he was still shirtless was only a smart part of the humiliation. Cassie wolf whistled from the opposite side of the room. Santos rolled her eyes. Frank just ignored them.

The elevator doors opened to a yawning Garcia. The chuckle seemed to bloom from her feet and grow into the elevator. Just the cherry on top of this weird day. Dana had her limits in how long a joke would go on for. Yoyo? She’d try and get it engraved on his headstone.

‘Are we doing a calender this year?’ Dana was damn near giggling as she wheeled him in. Slapping his hands away from steering the chair himself.

‘Ooooooo we should suggest that to Gloria. Might get us the beds Robby keeps bitching about.’ Garcia and Dana started riffing over who would be in each month. Abbot being Mr. December was a choice but Frank knew better than to comment. That’s what they were waiting for. Garcia winked obnoxiously at Mel who was decidedly rosy in the cheeks.

‘Oooooo Chen should be August.’

‘Robby: December.’

‘Changing Doctor Daddy to Doctor Santa? Less sexy surely.’ Garcia stared down at Frank waiting for the repartee he was known for. Truth be told he’d barely been listening. Mel had kept her gaze fixed on the buttons for the elevator. While eye contact was different for her, she’d never really avoided his gaze like this. Had he done something.

‘Not sure how wise it is to have a full time lesbian consulting on the beefcake calender of the Pitt.’ The glare from Yoyo was beyond withering. A hint to the fact that he was right. This was rather out of her wheelhouse. But he didn’t dare suggest a gender flip one.

He was already struggling to stop his brain from having ideas.

He hated the sexy doctor routine.

Especially when Mel’s face was such an interesting (primarily) adorable shade of red. He was far to exposed, literally and figuratively.

‘I can be entirely objective.’ Tone: smug, knowing. All hot shot surgeon. Urgh.

‘Is lack of interest objective?’ Yoyo’s eyes lit up at the unexpected jab from Mel. Well not a jab so much as a curious observation. Dana was carrying out breathing excercises next to him. Trying to contain her laughter.

This was the longest elevator ride in history.

‘King. I like the way you think.’ Mel’s face lit up with joy. Frank tried his best not to be blinded by it. Pretty much a loosing battle. Her enthusiasm and verve for life was infectious. Within an hour she’d wormed her way through his master class in cynicism. Yoyo much like him was not immune to her charms.

Finally the doors opened to a bevy of cheers and catcalls. He was never going to hear the end of this.

Frank walked back into The Pitt. Nothing broken or anything to cause long term damage. He'd agreed to taking the next day off but insisted on finishing out his shift. He was a bit sore and stiff. He made his way over to the main desk. Dana was rolling her eyes and leaving Robby to his mopey devices.

‘Spot on diagnosis.’ Robby muttered or grunted. Some days it was harder to tell. Frank, shirt back on, just in time too. Myrna was enacting her usual routine. Hitting on anything male adjacent and relatively conscious. Frank kept his head down and took the proffered paperwork. He and Robby actually shared a moment of mutual irritation over red tape.

A patient went nuts because he was smuggling cocaine. And Frank got in the way. Could have been much worse.

‘Fruitcake!’ Frank did his best to look passive, not listening not any bit engaged. The blush that was appearing on his skin. He was not enjoying that at all. ‘Have you been avoiding me darling?’

‘Never.’ If there was an upside to doing this pointless paperwork, because really the hospital had no intention of ever ensuring proper safeguards for staff. It was at least he was getting a show. Not that Myrna refused to understand that sexual harassment wasn’t fun for anyone. But Robby trying to appear like he was in control of this dynamic was an exercise in futility. Robby who tried to control every part of himself so tightly he was liable to snap at himself.

Maybe he was being petty, but Frank was a petty petty man.

‘I heard that a tall dark doctor was half naked earlier today.... sorry I missed the show Fruitcake.’ Robby’s eyes stared darkly into Franks.

Oh god.

Robby was also a petty petty petty bastard.