#musing writes

Today is a good day, a far cry from the last few weeks, where she felt like she had to take a break every hour and spent twice her usual time with her patients. She’s doing better, Dana hasn’t cast a worried glance at her since last Thursday, Robby hasn’t told her to take five in more than eight days, and when Frank gives her a bottle of water, it’s with a smile and not the face of a man who thinks his love is dying.

Her sleep as improved, and with more hours in bed she’s less tired during the day.

The best thing of all, she thinks as she saves her observations on the file, is that her appetite is stronger than ever. She eats more than before and finally keeps the food down.

“Hey, Melatonin!” Mel rolls her eyes while Trinity parks herself against the desk. “McKay has brought mushroom pizzas. Want some?”

Mel’s stomach grumbles at this moment. “Yeah, I’ll have a slice,” she replies with a smile, before following Trinity to the breakroom.

One her way, Mel sees Frank chatting with a patient in North 4. She waves at him to get his attention.

“Cassie brought some pizza, do you want some?”

Frank turns to her. “I’ll be right behind you, I just have to finish with Mrs. Stewart here. Will you be okay?”

For the past two months, he’s been the most worried boyfriend of the world, always checking on her, making sure she ate something everyday, holding her hair when she threw up, holding her when she felt at the bottom of everything.

She gives him a thumb up and leaves.

As soon as she enters the breakroom, she knows she’s spoken too fast. The smell of the mushrooms gets a hold on her nose, and suddenly her stomach protests. She bolts to the sink, where she throws up her breakfast and the energy bars she ate earlier in the day, exhaling panicked “sorry” between every time she vomits.

“Sorry,” she repeats as Cassie helps her clean up her mess and her face, while Trinity goes to tell Frank.

Finally, they both sit around the table—where the pizza is now covered—and Mel sees a knowing smile spread on Cassie’s face.

“Is there something you have to tell us?”

The door opens at the same time, and a worried Frank strides in. He holds Mel’s face in his hands.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

Mel smiles sheepishly and puts her hands on her small bump.

Today, though, is a different matter. An episode of Resident Playbook plays on the TV, but her attention is somewhere else. More specifically, she’s focused on Frank’s fingers on her clit and his mouth on her neck. Their kisses have begun softly, but when Frank pulled her on his lap, things escalated quickly, until she “lost” her jeans and underwear.

She shudders when his middle finger slides inside her and pulls a moan out of her throat.

“Oh, you like that, Sweetheart?” he whispers against her heated skin.

“Yes,” she breathes, and he adds another finger, while his thumb flicks her clit again. She clings to him, unable to do anything than take him and feel the tension build inside her.

It’s not her first time, far from it, but it’s the first time she feels so much. She bites her lip, tears flowing on her cheeks as her legs begin to shake with her incoming climax. Frank’s hold on her waist tightens, the rhythm of his hand between her legs increases, and with a cry, she falls over the edge.

Frank’s solid presence helps her coming down, and she smiles against his shoulder. “So, that’s what chilling is about.”

Since then, she’s used it as a bookmark, sliding it into the books she reads. It’s better than receipts and whatever paper falls under her hand while reading.

Mel checks everywhere in her room, but her search is fruitless. Then she looks in the last books she’s read. Still nothing.

That’s when she remembers where the real last book she’s read is. She’s lent it to Frank two days ago, and she now clearly sees herself placing the picture between the last pages.

For the few hours between that realization and her next shift, she can’t stop dreading Frank’s reaction. He surely won’t be angry at her, but maybe that will make him uncomfortable. And make their relationship awkward.

The next day, Mel finds Frank at the lockers before rounds. He’s his usual self, smiling at her when she approaches.

“Hey,” she says, casually—well, she tries—”Have you read the book I’ve lent you?”

“Yeah, it’s very good. I still have a few chapters to read, though.”

“Oh, good.” She falters a little, and Frank’s expression shifts to concern. “I just… I’ve left something between the pages, and I’d like to have it back.”

Her heart stutters at the grin blooming on his lips. Oh no, he’s found it.

“I’ll just say it’s unfair that you have a picture of me sleeping and I don’t have one of you.”

She blinks.

Dr. King, a blonde woman wearing big glasses, blushes. “Don’t listen to him, he’s been like that since the moment I accepted his proposal. You’re here because you’ve swallowed a large quantity of cinnamon, is that right?”

“Yes,” Aaron wheezes. “I tried the cinnamon challenge.”

Dr. Langdon sighs and mumbles something like “those damn kids not learning their history,” before he proceeds to examine Aaron. Meanwhile, Dr. King asks him some questions, that his mom answers when the burning is too much for him.

Then, both doctors exchange a few words about their diagnostic. Seeing them so close reminds him of his parents, and he manages to whisper to his mom: “You and Dad look at each other like this.” His mom smiles and ruffles his hair.

“Alright,” Dr. King says. “For the next steps, Perlah—” she points at the nurse, who’s gathering some equipment “—will flush your nose with saline solution, then you’ll be sent for a scan to check if there is cinnamon in your lungs. Depending on the results, we’ll take further steps. We will come back later to check on you.”

His mom thanks both doctors while another coughing fit takes Aaron. As he tries to breathe normally again, Dr. King smiles reassuringly at him.

“Wanna take another patient with me, cinnamon bun?” Dr. Langdon asks, approaching the door. His fiancee rolls her eyes and follows him.

“I’m not sure it’s the right term of endearment for the situation, Frank,” she scolds him lightly.

“Well, I do believe it’s the perfect affectionate name for you,” is the last thing Dr. Langdon says before the door closes behind them.

“How often do they work on the same cases?” Mom asks the nurse, who’s filling a plastic syringe with a clear liquid.

Nothing shows on his face or his voice as he oversees the whole procedure, and he simply smiles and praises Mel’s ability once they’re done.

In the hours that follow, he tries to identify the new perfume while spending time with her, and by the end of hour six of the shift, he has made his mind about it.

Apple. Mel’s new shampoo has apple in it. He can tell because it’s the same perfume that’s in his own shampoo. But while Frank likes it in his hair, the freshness of it almost soothing on his scalp when he showers, in Mel’s it feels even more attractive than her previous one.

It feels like they share a secret.

Well, they already do, and Frank thinks about the fake shifts spent in Mel’s bed, the pretense of longer hours to make out and finger Mel in her car, the way he walks Tomy (short for tracheotomy) in a park far from his usual neighborhood just to spend an hour with Mel. This only strengthens the secret they share.

He waits until the end of the shift, and finds Mel waiting for him by his car, parked in a quiet corner of the staff parking. Nobody’s around, as usual.

As soon as he reaches her, his hands find her waist, and he kisses her. She surrenders to his lips with a low sigh. Then, he takes a good whiff of her hair to enjoy their scent. He exhales with a chuckle. Pulls back to look at her.

“I noticed you’ve changed your shampoo. Any reason why?”

Mel grins and winks. “I like the way you smell, and I feel like I really belong to you by adopting your shampoo.” Then her smile changes to something almost feral. “Also that way, she won’t know there is someone else when you sleep next to her,” she adds, a possessive light in her eyes.

Frank’s fingers squeeze her hips tighter. He will leave his mark on her skin, but she doesn’t care. She’s told him often enough that she loved knowing she was his as much as he was hers. Finally, he claims her lips for himself.

When she raises her eyes to look at Frank, leaning next to the closed door, she sees a strange light in his eyes. “Hi,” she breathes.

He smiles, so softly she feels like her heart is going to melt. “You would make a wonderful mother.”

Mel blinks, trying to chase the tears that rise to her eyes. “I lack a very much needed condition for that, Dr Langdon,” she replies, holding back the bitterness in her voice. She’s never wanted to rise a child alone, even before she became Becca’s sole caretaker. And she has very precise set of criteria for a potential partner and co-parent.

If these criteria all fit Frank Langdon, she’s not going to admit it to anyone. Like many things in her life, it stays safely hidden, locked, buried.

“A partner?” Frank approaches her and sits on the stool next to her more comfortable chair. His fingers brush the soft cheek of the baby.

“Yes,” she replies, her throat tight.

Silence settles between them, and Mel tries not to stare too much at Frank’s bare hand, so close to her own.

“If you want, I could be yours,” he whispers.

It takes a few seconds for Mel to understand what he means. Her heart rate spikes and her mouth feels dry.

“What?”

Frank’s blue eyes bore into hers, intense, serious, and… pleading?

“Mel, Sweetheart, this has been my most precious vow for months now. I want to be your partner in life, in whatever way you want me to be.”

Mel’s lungs feel like they can’t fill correctly, and her breath shortens as she processes his words.

“Oh.”

“Mel?” Worries fills Frank’s eyes. “I’m sorry if that was too much, I…”

“I want it,” she finally mutters. “I want you as a partner, in all the ways that matter,” she adds, breathing normally again.

It’s his turn to be speechless. Then, a smile, almost blinding in the shadows of the room, blooms on his face. His hand cradles her cheek. “Really?”

She nods, smiling back at him, and when he kisses her, she welcomes him with a happy sigh.

A few minutes later, after a last kiss on Frank’s forehead while he holds the baby, she leaves the room. Dana spots her and smiles knowingly.

“The presence of a baby can do wonders on one’s mood, it seems.”

It’s not completely exact, but Mel won’t tell her. She smiles back. “It’s both calming and energizing!”