#kingdonmicrofics

Day 11-Surprise | Exact WC 186 | ao3 | @kingdonmicrofic

Frank’s hands shook as he opened the front door. His stomach was in knots at the thought of the message he’d received at work.

I’m not feeling well so I’m gonna try to get some sleep. I have something important to talk about when you get home.

He was sure it wasn’t something bad, but his body couldn’t decipher a message like that from being gunned down.

When he walked in, his eyes landed on Mel asleep on the couch.

If this was Frank five years ago he would have just left her to sleep, holding off on whatever needed to be discussed as long as possible.

But he wasn’t that man anymore.

“Honey,” he whispered, shaking her gently.

Mel spent the next few moments waking up before leading him to the bathroom. 

His heart pounded against his ribs. He was sure it would bust right out of his chest.

When they stepped in, his eyes landed on the small pink sticks on the sink.

“You’re…”

“Surprise,” she choked, her eyes welling with tears.

Day 16-Glitter | Exact WC 227 | ao3 | @kingdonmicrofic

The morning of July 4th, Mel decided to take Becca’s advice and add a little “razzle-dazzle” to her usual look. She walked into her room and rummaged around for the container of patriotic hair glitter.

She pulled her hair back into two french-braids. She dipped her fingers into the goop, and begrudgingly smeared a small amount across the top of her head. Not too much. Just enough to add a little sparkle.

That 4th of July shift would be the worst Mel ever experienced.

The case that got her most was a family of four that had gotten into a boating accident. The mother and father succumbed to their injuries, leaving their daughters behind. Her last case of the night.

Frank found her doubled over in the ambulance bay, her hands wound tight as her chest heaved.

The second he stood in front of her she crashed into him, her head buried in his chest as he squeezed her tight, swaying her back and forth.

He stayed with her long after his shift had ended. Long after he should’ve been home.

The next morning Abby would confront him about the glitter she’d found stuck to his scrubs. Asking him if the reason he came home so late was to blow money at the strip club.

Day 6-Laughter | Exact WC 325 | ao3 | @kingdonmicrofic

“Alright,” Frank groaned as he stood up from the couch, “I’m gonna get dinner started.”

Becca perked up at the mention of food. Her stomach had been growling for the last half hour. “What are you making, Frank,” she asked over the heads of Tanner and Penny.

“Spaghetti,” he answered, peeking around the wall that separates Mel’s living room from her kitchen.

“Yes,” Becca exclaimed, pumping her fist in excitement. Spaghetti was her favorite food, and Frank’s dad’s recipe had made it so no other version could live up to his.

Frank laughed as he retreated into the kitchen, pulling the large pot out from the cupboard and setting it in the sink to fill with water.

As he flipped the lever a loud laugh echoed in from the living room. It bounced around the walls of the kitchen and straight into his ears, ricocheting down to his heart.

Penny’s laugh—one of his favorite sounds in the world.

He smiled as he set the pot on the stove.

“What’s so funny in here?” Frank asked as he walked back into the living room. His eyes landed on where Penny was rolling around on the floor, her face flushed from how hard she was laughing. Becca looked as if she might join her.

“Becca told Penny one of her famous knock knock jokes,” Mel said, smiling up at Frank, joy filling her eyes.

“Which one?” Frank asked, amusement filling his features.

Mel giggled, looking over at where Penny had finally collected herself, hugging her Snoopy plush tightly to her chest, “The interrupting pirate one.”

“Ah,” Frank sighed, turning back to the kitchen, “that’s a classic.”

Every few minutes the kitchen would refill with the sounds of his family’s laughter flowing in from the living room.

And every time the sound reached his ears, he couldn’t stop his heart from fluttering against his chest.

Day 7-Karaoke | Exact WC 420 | ao3 | @kingdonmicrofic

Abby sat with Frank and her friends at the high top table in the very back corner of the karaoke bar. She watched him, a slight smile tugging at his lips, eyes glued to his phone as he sipped from his can.

“Whatcha’ looking at?” she asked him, peeking over his shoulder at his phone screen, watching as he swiped out of whatever message thread he’d been scrolling through to open google instead.

“Someone from work sent me an article,” he replied, scrolling past the title and cover photo, “pretty interesting stuff.”

Someone from work had become quite a popular subject for Frank lately. But Abby wasn’t one to pry.

Maybe if she was, things wouldn’t have gone down the way they did.

She’d have to write that down in her couple’s therapy journal when they got home.

“Well,” Abby sighed, ignoring the voice in the back of her mind, placing her hand on his shoulder and digging her fingers in slightly, “maybe you should try to talk to my friends?”

 Frank turned his phone off and dropped it against the table, shooting Abby a doubtful look over the shoulder she was squeezing.

“About what, Abby?”

“I don’t know, Frank,” she hissed, only loud enough for him to hear, “it would be nice if you put in a little bit of effort every once in a while.”

Abby watched Frank’s eyes somehow narrow even more, his mouth opening, then closing. She could tell he wanted to say something else, but he held back. 

That’s how it usually goes.

“I’m here to bring you guys home,” he huffed, picking up his ginger ale and guzzling down the last few sips, “we both know your friends don’t like me.”

“That’s not—”

“Abby,” Frank interrupted, wiping his hand down his face, “stop lying to yourself.”

Whatever.

She didn’t respond. There was no point. She just grabbed her drink and called on her friends to follow her to the front.

When they requested Olivia Rodrigo to the DJ, Abby looked back one last time. Frank was still just sitting there, eyes glued on his phone. That same barely there smirk on his face.

What the fuck is he smiling about?

He didn’t look up once.

Not until a woman Abby had never seen before caught his attention, walking over with a pep in her step, and a blonde braid swinging behind her. The smile that spread across his face at the sight of her made Abby’s stomach twist in knots.

Day 5-Speech | Exact WC 316 | ao3 | @kingdonmicrofic

“Family and friends of the bride and groom,” a voice boomed through the speakers, and Mel recognized it instantly as Donnie’s, “we have one more very important person who would like to give a speech.”

Frank turned his head to look at Mel, confusion threaded through his features.

Mel just shrugged and mouthed ‘I don’t know’ to him, before her eyes caught on the person walking up.

Immediately, her eyes started to water, and Frank’s heart softened at the sight of her. He turned his head to see what she had been looking at.

Becca, wearing her maid of honor dress, her hair done in a fancy up do. She was walking to Donnie, who was waiting for her with the microphone.

Frank could hear Mel’s breath get caught in her throat before Becca even had it in her hand. He reached his arm around the back of his chair, settling his hand on her leg.

She grabbed it, squeezing tight and grounding herself with his touch.

“I told Mel that I didn’t want to give a speech,” Becca started, looking over at her sister with a huge smile on her face, “but that’s because I wanted to surprise her.”

Mel wiped the tear that had already slipped free, a watery laugh bubbling up from her chest.

Everyone gave Becca their full attention. Besides her voice it was as if you could hear a pin drop in the small dimly lit event space.

Becca went on to tell everyone about how she knew from the day Mel started at PTMC, that Frank would be someone very special in her life. 

Mel shot her a glare when she told everyone about the ten months that Frank was gone.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the crowd by the last line of Becca’s speech.

Day 2-Champagne | Exact WC 158 | ao3 | @kingdonmicrofic

“So you’re not attracted to Dr. Langdon,” Samira asked, earning a head shake from Mel, “at all?”

“No,” Mel shrugged, “I think we have the potential to be attracted to each other, but we’re not.”

Samira’s eyebrows lifted and scrunched together, “Mel,” she laughed, “do you seriously not realize how that sounds?”

Mel’s head tipped down as she groaned, “We’re just friends, Samira.”

“Sure, Mel,” Samira breathed, scooting her chair back and standing to leave, “whatever helps you both sleep at night.”

Mel’s eyes locked on Frank, who was making his way towards her, a flute of champagne in each hand. 

“I’m glad you could make it,” he said, smiling as he held one of the bubbling glasses out to her, “you look very nice.”

Their fingers grazed as Mel grabbed the glass from his hand, a blush spreading across her cheeks and a chill through her body. 

Day 13-Smoke | Exact WC 295 | ao3 | @kingdonmicrofic

After spending thirty minutes coding a seven year old burn victim, Frank found himself standing in the cold, pacing relentlessly in the warm light of the ambulance bay. He rolled a cigarette aimlessly between his finger tips, contemplating whether he actually wanted to smoke it, or if it was just the fact that he had it.

Dana slipped it to him after he tried to follow Mel out of the trauma room. “Go take a minute kid,” she said. “Give her one of her own.”

She was right. He knew that if Mel needed him she would find him, and if she needed a minute she would find it for herself. And that was clearly what she was doing when she went to the stairs instead of their usual spots.

Still, it took every ounce of restraint not to follow her. But he’d learned that despite how badly he wanted to always be there for her, she was still that independent woman deep down and often found herself in need of time for her and her alone.

Suddenly, his thoughts were pulled from the cigarette in his hand and the woman on his mind, to the sound of the ambulance bay doors hissing open.

“Mel,” he breathed, closing the gap between them to quickly wrap her up in him.

“Hi,” she whispered into his chest. His heart broke at the sound of her sniffles.

They spent the next few minutes debriefing. Everything that needed to be said was, and they found comfort in each other. 

Half way through, he lit the cigarette. 

He never hit it though. Just let it burn, the smoke rolling off the tip.

Day 9-Gift | Exact WC 446 | ao3 | @kingdonmicrofic

Mel sat on the itchy carpet of the family room, scratchy polyester digging into her thighs as she rocked back and forth.

The Christmas tree filled the room with a warm glow. The angel at the top shining on the ceiling, the fireplace crackling behind them.

“And this one,” her dad grunted as he leaned down, grabbing the last box from under the tree, wrapped in pretty paper with a sparkly ribbon, “is for Mellie, from all of us.”

She looked up at her dad’s warm smile, her eyes wide and full of anticipation.

This one looked extra special.

“Go on, Mel,” Becca exclaimed, “open it, open it!”

She slowly untied the ribbon, no doubt tied by her mother, who was watching her now with a knowing smile, sipping from the coffee cup in her hand.

The paper came next, trying her best to stick to just pulling off the tape. Her mom reused the same wrapping paper every year, so they tried their best to keep it in tact. 

She folded the paper back, unearthing a small velvet box.

Her heart fluttered as she flipped it open, revealing a small gold pair of horseshoe earrings.

“For our lucky charm,” her mom whispered, ducking down to place a kiss to the top of her head.

Mel couldn’t stop the tears that welled in her eyes. She was always told she was so “emotionally mature” for her age. 

They said it like it was a good thing.

In all reality, it was debilitating.

Mel sat on the soft rug of Frank’s living room, her hands brushing against the shag as she hummed in tune with the Christmas music floating through the air.

Their Christmas tree was small, but it was more than good enough for them.

“Alright,” Frank sighed, meeting her eyes with a look that told her this one was extra special, “last one.”

It was a rectangular box, wrapped—not so neatly—in pretty paper with a stick on ribbon placed in the center. 

“Open it,” Frank whined, “or I will.”

She ripped the bow off, sticking it to his forehead.

He left it there, laughing as he watched her slowly peel the wrapping paper off, somehow leaving it perfectly intact.

Her heart fluttered in her chest at the sight of the velvet box.

Her hand came up to cover her mouth, her breath catching in her throat when she caught sight of the gold horseshoe necklace inside.

“For my lucky charm,” Frank whispered.

She didn’t say anything.