#prompt request

The flight is long and works to get him to calm down a bit. Exhaustion always makes him quick to lash out, an unfortunate trait he got from his father that made him and his sister pick fights endlessly while they were in school. He doesn't have a desitination in mind, but he's a Gothamite through and through so it's not too surprising for him to find himself in the city, even if it won't be his city for another few centuries.

Booster Gold drops down to a rooftop and considers looking for someplace that's still open in the dead of night. He'd settle for even the most subpar, soggy taco in the world if it meant he had something to eat. He really means to move, to chat with Skeets as he flies through the streets, but his head is foggy and he's just… tired.

He wants to make use of Rip's time machine to go back a few years just to spend a day with Ted. He wants to go back to being the version of himself who has a team and a best friend and a reason to laugh. He wants to undo the years that have lead up to this point so he can try again and get everything right.

He wants to go home.

Maybe he could. Ted left behind a fund for him. By the time it reaches the 25th century, it'll be more than enough to pay for everything he stole from the museum that marked him a criminal.

"Booster."

Any other day, he'd flinch then crack a joke, but even he gets off days. So Booster Gold turns and stares down Batman.

"Is there an issue?" Batman asks, because right now this is his city and his only focus is on protecting it.

"No, I was just stopping here for a break. I'll head out in a few minutes."

Batman stares him down and Booster Gold swears, he really does, that if Batman asks him to join the Justice League again, he's just going to start screaming.

Batman doesn't not ask him to join the Justice League again. Batman reaches into one of the compartments of his utility belt and pulls out a notepad and pen. He writes something down, tears the page out, and holds it out for Booster Gold to take.

When he takes it, Batman nods and steps back, melting into the shadows of Gotham. "Get some rest. If you need medical attention, just ask and you'll have it."

And then he's gone, continuing his patrol as Booster Gold stares after him blankly. He's never sure how much the man actually knows of what he does; the pictures he has from the Joker of those endless attempts to save Barbara Gordon clearly gave Batman the impression of Booster Gold being better than he was, and as much as he never speaks of his work in protecting the time stream with Rip, Batman is the world's greatest detective for a reason. Well, even if he does know, there's no one better at keeping a secret, so Booster Gold lets the thoughts fade away and instead has Skeets lead him to the address.

The safehouse Batman is giving him access to is located outside of Gotham, back on the mainland. It's a small cabin in the woods, the perfect set up for a horror movie, but it's clean and quiet and exactly what Booster Gold needs.

A biometric scan opens the door, somehow already set to allow him in because the Devil works fast but Batman works faster, and Booster Gold is already looking forward to collapsing face down in a bed where he won't move for another 48 hours.

"Wonder if the Bat will let me just live here," Booster Gold muses. "Bet I can stay for a week before he swings by to kick me out."

"Sir," Skeets begins to say.

"Ah, maybe I can convince him that I need more time to heal and then I'll just never leave. That might work."

"Sir," Skeets tries again.

"Shh, not now Skeets, I'm fantasizing about a better life."

"Would you perhaps like to acknowledge the child in front of you before you fantasize about a better life? Or does this fantasy include a roommate?"

Booster Gold blinks open his tired eyes. "What the fuck, Skeets?" And then he actually looks at what's in the cabin, which includes: a kitchen, a living room with a couch and television, a hallway that must have the doors to the bedrooms, and some kid with black hair and blue eyes in a raggedly hoodie holding up a baseball bat.

They stare at each other in silence for a long minute before the kid blurts out, "Squatter's rights!"

"Huh?"

"I've got squatter's rights!"

Booster Gold doesn't interact much with kids or teenagers. His own adopted daughter is another matter because she's the best and smartest kid in the universe, and Jaime is a good kid he checks in with from time to time because that's what Ted wanted him to do. The point is, civillain kids are a bit of a mystery to him at this point in his life, so Booster Gold just shrugs and says, "Sure. Are you going to be an issue or can I pass out without you stealing my organs?"

The kid slowly lowers his baseball bat and gives Booster Gold a concerned once-over. "Uh, dude, you good? You're like—" he gestures vaguely to his face and chest "—kinda a mess."

"Nonstop fighting for a week straight will do that to you."

"I could probably guess from the costume, but are you a hero?"

"Booster Gold, in the flesh," he says, pasting on a tired grin. "I'd offer you an autograph, but I might actually collapse if I don't get to a bed right now.

The boy startles. "Oh! Right, yeah, sorry. Um, over here, I haven't touched this bedroom at all so it's a little dusty but you can sleep in it!"

"Cool. Good night, kid."

He stumbles in and falls into the bed. Probably not the best idea when his bruised ribs send dull flares of pain through him. His nose is no longer broken, which means he can shove his face into the pillow without any care of how the dried blood on his face (and his everything else) is going to make a mess. He mumbles something to Skeets about keeping an eye on the kid so he doesn't break anything, and then he's out.

When he wakes up, Booster Gold feels like a new person. Crazy how getting a good night's sleep really changes you! He almost doesn't want to get up at all, but there is a strange, civillian teenager in Batman's safehouse, and now that his brain is functioning correctly, it's something that he needs to look into.

So he leaves the room and heads to the kitchen where he can hear the boy talking. To who, he's not sure, but his voice is pretty loud as he rambles about… the government? Sure, okay, who knows what kids these days are into.

"—like, I don't even pay taxes, but I'm still offended! They could even fund better designs? Why's everything gotta be white and boring? Sure, let's give the secret government agents white suits and ties and matching sunglasses because we want to stand out, but we don't want to look good. What's the point, then!"

"I would imagine suits and ties are standard for government workers, regardless of the color palette they choose," Skeets replies.

"Sure, if they were regular government workers. These aren't guys going to boring meetings, they're guys who have weapons and hunt down ghosts in secrets! Not that they're good at keeping secrets, everyone who runs into them knows them. They really suck at their job."

Booster Gold stops at the end of the hallway and takes in the scene: Skeets talking to the kid in the kitchen, one in the afternoon, instant ramen being made on the stove.

"Got any more left that I can have?" he asks, scaring the kid into jumping and flinging his fork in the air. It clatters on the floor and the kid looks down at it, embarrassed.

"Oops," is all he offers for that, then turns his attention back to Booster Gold and says, "Yeah, I've got pork or beef in the pantry over there. There's another pot in the dishwasher. I'm almost done here. Are you… okay?"

"Yeah, I just needed some rest. I should probably ask now that I'm not dead on my feet: who are you and how did you get in here?"

"Oh, um, I'm Danny and I just kinda broke in a while ago? No one was using it and I needed someplace to stay, so… here I am!"

Should he or should he not tell the kid this is a Bat safehouse?

Nah, he'll keep quiet about it. If the kid managed to break in and live in here without Batman storming in to kick him out, then he's fine. If there was an issue with Danny living the safehouse, Batman would have already done something about it.

"Run away from home?" Booster Gold guesses as he grabs a package of beef instant ramen.

"Got captured by a secret government organization and cut open, actually."

"Huh." The words take a second to sit in his mind, heavy, before he processes them. Booster Gold squints at Danny. "Is that a joke?"

"Nope!" Danny pulls up his hoodie and reveals a partially healed incision that cuts through his torso in a straight line, messily held together with amatuer stitches, and Booster Gold feels sick to his stomach.

"What the fuck," he says blankly, then, enraged, "Want me to blow up a goverment agency? I can blow up a government agency easy."

"No need, it'll be handled soon enough," Danny replies easily. "Anyways, Clockwork dropped by last night while you were sleeping. Are you really a time traveler?"

Remember that bit about Booster Gold being the greatest hero history has never known? Yeah, he has to keep it that way and be remembered as a fake hero so that he isn't a target of malicious forces hoping to kill heroes before they're ever born. He goes cold, then tries to laugh it off.

"Haha, what? Me? A time traveler? Pssh, no way."

"Danny Phantom is a fellow time traveler protected by Clockwork, the Ancient of Time. You may speak freely with him as you do Rip," Skeets reports.

"Hey, my identity!" Danny cries, dismayed.

"Information about you is freely available at the museum I was tasked to guard in the 25th century. It will remain secret until then."

"Oh, sick, I'm in a museum?"

Booster Gold slowly gets the pot out of the dishwasher. This conversation is going all over the place and he doesn't even know where to begin, so he just tosses the whole thing out of his head and focuses on what's really important: food.

Danny's not a bad kid. He's also a hero and fellow time traveler. And Booster Gold plans on staying in the safehouse for a while anyways to fully recover from his past few missions. There will be more time to talk later. For now, he fills the pot with water, sets it on an open stove element to boil, and asks, "Got a favorite century to travel to?"

Danny lights up, excited to talk. Yeah, Booster Gold's just gonna let this one go nice and easy until he's recovered. Then he'll go blow up a government agency. Hell, Rip might even join him.

Of course the relationship had its moments. The ones that you could look back on and smile , cherish the memory. But it was different. Because you didn’t look back on those memories and feel sad. You didn’t cry that they were fleeting. You didn’t miss it.

It was more of a grateful feeling. A feeling of fulfillment and enjoyment. But not sad.

In the end , the both of you felt it. That connection wasn’t there. The relationship wasn’t growing. You weren’t falling in love with eachother , more so , falling into a friendship that the both of you were scared to let go.

He had become your person and vice versa. The comfort the both of you had gotten from eachother , how honest and vunerable the two of you were able to be was something special.

But the relationship ran its course and John B admitted that he had started developing feelings for Sarah Cameron.

You weren’t mad at him or upset. He cried , feeling ashamed and scared of what it meant: you held his hand , brushed his face and encouraged him to explore it.

Breaking the news to your friends were the hardest part. Pope and Kiara were all knowing , especially Pope who you had confided in once before. They were supportive , and promised that nothing would change in the Pogue’s dynamic.

JJ on the other hand , he looked like a deer in headlights. He fidgeted alot , kept glancing up at you to study your face. JJ could tell that you didn’t look upset and he wasn’t sure what that meant. He wanted to yell at John B , push him and curse him for taking something as beautiful as you for granted.

But he couldn’t.

In fact , he couldn’t even face you.

JJ had always been taken with you. Since the moment he met you on the beach , everything about you just left him speechless. He though you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and he remembered how he gushed to Pope about you , ranting and raving about the girl he met.

Imagine his surprise when you showed up at the Chateau two days later next to John B— grinning up at him with stars in your eyes. He was deflated. Hurt. But he couldn’t blame anyone but himself for not making a move that night.

For two years he watched you and John B be together. And in those two years he had gotten to know you. All of you. That didn’t help. He thought the feelings he had for you would disappear. Girl after girl came into his life until he realized , he looked for you in every girl he met.

Although it was hard for him and it hurt him to slowly fall in love with you while you were seemingly falling in love for his bestfriend , it was easier for him to accept the fact you were off limits because you were taken by said bestfriend. Now that you were single , free and John B was running off with the Kook Princess , JJ wasn’t confident that he could just. . . not make a move , not confess everything he had pent up all these years.

But God , did he love you.

JJ had made it a point to avoid you. Any time he saw you at the Wreck , he ducked and hoped you hadn’t seen him. When you were invited to the Chateau or to the marsh , JJ always found some excuse to give so he wouldn’t be there. So he wouldn’t have to see you.

It was killing him on the inside. He was itching to see you again. To finally touch you , feel you , be yours. But he was afraid. Afraid of rejection , how it would to his friends , how John B would feel especially.

It was too messy and he couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t.

Eventually you had noticed JJ’s sudden change in behavior.

“Is it just me or does he like , suddenly hate me?” You mentioned to Kiara while the two of you sunbathed , JJ affectively avoiding you by staying in the water.

Kiara scoffed. “I wouldn’t say hate.”

You were confused by what she meant.

But days turned into weeks , and you couldn’t take it anymore. You missed him. It made you feel like he blamed you for the break up with John B or he resented you for whatever reason.

Your knuckles rapped on the door to his room where you knew he was staying in John B’s hallway. The other Pogue’s went surfing and told you JJ wasn’t coming because he was sick.

You finally had enough.

“JJ freaking Maybank! I know you’re in there so open up the damn door.” You yelled through the wood loudly , a fixated look on your face.

Nobody answered and you continued knocking on the door. “JJ! What the hell is your problem with me?” Your voice was just as loud. But after minutes of silence , you stopped knocking. Suddenly you felt all of your anger disappear. You felt small , and for some reason your chest began to hurt.

“JJ. . .” the anger was all gone , now your voice was soft and sad. Cracking at the end of his name. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

As if JJ’s own heart broke at the sound of your voice , he sighed heavily and got up from his place on the bed. The door flung open and in front of you stood a disheveled JJ. His hair was a mess , there were bags under his eyes and you could tell he had been crying. “I can’t stay away from you—”

“Really? Because it seems like that’s all you’ve been doing these past couple weeks is staying away from me.”

“I can’t stay away from you but I have to.” JJ finished his sentence. Scratching the back of his neck , he refused to meet your eyes. “I just need some time.”

You blinked confused. Your heart squeezing. “Are you mad at me? What did I do? Is this about John B?”

JJ groaned. “This isn’t about John B! Nothing about this is about John B right now.”

He snapped at you and it took you aback. Your eyes widened , not expecting that from him. It made you frown and you took a step closer to him. “JJ please. . . tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I just— because I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“I love you.” JJ blurted. Now he was fully looking at you. “Okay? I love you. Not in the friend way. Not in a Pogue way. The in love with you way—” JJ suddenly felt the world lift off of his shoulders. It all started coming out like word vomit and he couldn’t stop it , but he didn’t want to either. “I love the way your hair gets all knotted up in the saltwater and it takes you hours to comb it out. I love that you wake up every morning and eat the same exact breakfast and makes sure everyone else in the house eats before they leave. I love that you love the animals and you care about nature. I even like you stupid little romance books that I pretend I hate hearing about when secretly I wish we were in our own love story. . .” he took a deep breath.

“I’ve loved you since the moment I met you , sweetheart and I’m trying to make it go away but it’s not.”

You were stunned. It all hit you at once and you stared. Mouth agape , eyes wide , and your cheeks flushed pink. It was the sweetest confession you had ever gotten , and the way JJ looked at you like you were the only girl in the world only added to the butterflies now swarming in your stomach.

“Why did you—” you stuttered , trying to figure out the words to say. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would it have changed anything?” JJ said defeated.

“It would have changed everything.” You admitted.

You weren’t sure what was going to happen now or how to navigate the news. Though you did know that something changed. It would forever be changed.

‘Langdon?’ The name popped out of Mel’s mouth before she could stop herself. Married? Where had Mrs Evans gotten that from. Mrs Evans bright grey eyes sparkled mischievously. Stupidly Mel could feel her cheeks heat up.

With her good hand Mrs Evan’s fanned herself. ‘Oh darling if I was any where near an appropriate age for that man I would be climbing him like a tree. Something about him. But then again he’s clearly taken.’ The sigh Mrs Evans was almost comical. Except Mel felt like she was in a dream. A very very weird dream. ‘I love my husband dearly. Except for the golfing habit but everyone has their flaws. You two meet at work?’

Mel’s jaw dropped and all she could manage was a weird gargling noise. ‘We’re friends, not married.’ Finally Mrs Evans seemed to register the strangled tone in Mel’s voice. Her brows knitting a little in thought.

‘But he’s not married?’ Mel shook her head. But words failed her entirely. Why she was answering her questions? Mrs Evans just had that way of getting honest answers. Against Mel’s better instincts.

Both women froze as Frank stuck his head in. Glancing over Mel’s work with a skilled eye. ‘You’re a lucky patient. Dr King is the best we have.’ In his typical boyish charm he winked at the older lady. Who tittered and pinked at his words. Mel was never able to clamp down on the glow from the complements he gave her, but she tried to be less obvious. Lest Mrs Evans make another comment.

‘Apologies for interrupting but lunch is in the breath room whenever you’re free Mel.’ Her voice failed her completely as Mrs Evans watch the interaction with sharp eyes. ‘Ladies.’

‘Friends my fucking ass Dr King.’

---------------------

Frank stretched as he removed the uniform. Reenactors took their stuff seriously. One of the younger guys, somehow there was someone younger than him after joining up. Brad? Frank was fairly sure that was his name. Brad approached him back in his casual clothes.

‘Langdon right? Brad Dalton.’ Frank shook the guys outstretched hand.

‘Frank.’

‘Welcome to the club not often there’s anyone else close to my age at these things.’

‘Thanks. Always been a massive history nerd and this seemed like good fun.’

‘And when you get to enjoy it with your girlfriend makes it all the better right? Wish my fiance would come along. But it’s not his jam.’

Frank’s brain shuddered to a halt. Brad was off talking about his experience with reenactors in his previous city. Girl-what? Brad led them out of the changing room and into the main hall of the museum. Several of the reenactors waving at Frank and giving him the thumbs up. They were a super welcoming group. Beat NA meetings that was for damn sure. But Frank’s brain was still processing the previous comment.

‘Sorry my girlfriend?’ He cut over Brad. Not that he had caught a single word of what he was saying. The word girlfriend girlfriend girlfriend playing on repeat.

Brad’s brown eyes widened then narrowed. ‘The other doctor... Mel? Super enthusiastic and beyond knowledgable? The veterans already love her.’

‘Oh Mel. Right. Not my girlfriend. I’m still getting used to be divorced to be honest never mind anything else.’ Half that comment was fair. The rest was completely unnecessary. Not that it seemed to phase Brad. Who brushed back his longer hair with an airy hand.

‘Oh honey I have been there. Woof. Did you meet Mel before or after the divorce?’

‘Before – but I think you-’

Brad brushed past Frank’s stammering. ‘Oh no judgement here. Me and Alex met through his ex and there was whole overlap. But we’re all friends now.’ It was like drowning on dry land. He was so out of his depth. And that relationship he was learning about? Fuck.

‘We work together, it’s how we became friends.’ Frank was trying to get back to a land mass he understood. And the right information out there. As far as he knew Santos was trying to set Mel up. And he was doing his best to support that without feeling weird about it.

‘Best way to do it.’ Somehow Frank got the feeling that Brad was inventing a story of him and Mel that was no where near the reality. Probably the TV version. ‘Mel!’ Speaking of Mel, she stepped up next to Frank. As was now her habit, laying a hand on his arm. Judging from the look on Brad’s face he was not buying anything Frank was selling.

Why did no one believe him?

Like Mel should ever date someone like him.

----------------------

Another day another IT outage. Mel had long perfected keeping on top of her charting. Better stay on it than be running five miles behind. Unlike Whitaker who was was complaining that it was impossible to stay of top of it. If Robby couldn’t than who could? After July fourth people had picked up tricks on dealing with it. But Dennis clearly hadn’t. And was wasting more time bitching.

‘Mel’s up to date.’ The snort erupted out of Trinity. Mel felt herself sit up straighter, a little taller. Frank was staring at Whitaker. They still hadn’t found a middle ground. Even after Frank and Trinity had found a mutual love of archery. The competitive nature combining with a sport to give them a common ground. Also the struggles of trying to teach Mel.

Was it her fault if she had to aim at 10 to 12 to hit the bullseye? Her brain just worked like that.

Frank leaned back as though on cue and rang the bell. ‘As am I.’ Dennis’s jaw tightened in irritation. Mel knew he was fighting back a smirk. Whitaker really didn’t have the witty banter to match Franks. Neither did Mel but it wasn’t like she tried. And Whitaker had developed a habit of acting like Trinity. Throwing out shots like he owned the place. And it didn’t suit him. Those bright blue eyes landing on her face. She could see him suppressing the sigh as he detached his dictation device. ‘Invest in a good one of these. I have a spare I can lend you until you get your own. But take this until you get caught up.’

The outstretched hand sat for a beat longer than was polite. Whitaker grunted as Trinity landed a solid kick to his shin. ‘Take the dictator and cut the shit Whitaker.’ The silent thank you was forced at best. Frank took it well, just standing and stretching.

‘It’ll save your life. Adamson swore by his from the late 80s.’ His face saddened for a moment. Frank never really talked about Adamson. Mel was always curious the former attending having left such a mark on the Pitt. Robby in particular. Maybe Frank felt like he didn’t have the right to talk about it. Not having have been as close as Robby apparently had been. Mel wasn’t sure, but wasn’t sure if she could ask.

Lena patted Frank’s arm as she stepped into the fray. ‘You can leave it with me Whitaker when...ever you finish. I know this one’s locked code.’ Frank wrapped his arm around Lena’s shoulders.

‘You are too good to me Lena.’ He really was like a beloved son to the senior nurses. The only one able to get away with his antics. But it was because he always gave them their dues and was careful to to show respect. They knew more than he ever would. According to him. Never fuck with a nurse.

‘Ain’t that the truth. Also Baran is looking to talk to you and Mel.’ Lena shoved him off with her deep booming laugh. Shooting a fake exasperated look at Trinity and Mel.

Frank’s eyebrows lifted curiously. Mel shook her head silently. She couldn’t think of anything that needed a conversation from this shift. Maybe it was just a check in after a crazy shift. Mel tilted her head at Dennis, who was still at his computer. The dictation device lying on a flat palm. Like he was expecting it to go off. He shrunk a little as Lena shook her head at him.

Lately he’d not been getting on with the nurses. He listened to them but there was a growing habit of him throwing his R2 status around. It wasn’t sitting well. Frank had tried talking to him but he’d been dismissed out of hand. Trinity had advised letting him learn that lesson. Her theory was he was trying to act like something he wasn’t. Something to do with Amy and his personal life. Trinity hadn’t divulged and neither had pried. Frank was trying to guide him however gently but was repeatedly rebuffed. Oh well.

Mel and Frank fell into their usual gait as they headed towards the senior attending office. One of Baran’s many excellent suggestions. Giving the senior staff somewhere to get paperwork and admin stuff done. And a private place to have a disagreement without everyone hearing the screaming matches. Mel always appreciated her practical approach to problem solving. His hand went automatically to her lower back as Shen and Abbot rushed to an emergency.

‘Mel, Frank! You guys have your charting in order? Excellent work.’ Baran was at her desk, looking a little shocked at the time.

‘Practice makes perfect apparently.’ Mel shuffled into the office as Frank closed the door. Baran pushed back her wild curls. Hands flicking through the stack of paperwork.

Her laugh at Mel’s comment was light and melodic. Mel threw a curious eye over the office. Hints of Abbot and Baran were scattered around. Photos of family and a couple of books. Not much of Robby. He was still avoidant of this change apparently. Mel did like Robby but she was beginning to see through the cracks. The man who made his work his life to his detriment but also didn’t leave a trace of himself in a space designated for him.

Interesting choice.

‘I’m sorry for leaving this so late, but the past few weeks have been insane with Robby on annual leave again. Hopefully we can fill that third attending spot soon on the day shift.’ Her large brown eyes twinkled as they landed on Frank.

It was common knowledge that both Baran and Abbot had gone to management to recommend Frank for the post. He was the natural choice for the role. A natural leader and a teacher. With his recovery Frank had made the choice to apply for a fellowship in a couple of years. Taking the time for him and Abby to work on their coparenting as the kids got a little older. And he needed the money. There was no denying that.

His hand dragged through his hair awkwardly. They’d had several conversation and he simply could not be told he had more than a scrap of hope at the post. Abbot and Baran in his corner? Mel could only hope. She elbowed him, silently scolding him for the negative look on his face.

Mel knew exactly what he was thinking. And she hated it.

‘If you two could have these filled in by the end of the week, that would be awesome.’ Mel grabbed the outstretched documents. Passing Frank one before she registered what the form was.

Declaration of Personal Relationship.

What.

She stared at the document confused. Why was Baran giving her this. And Frank? Neither of them were in a relationship. At least so far as she knew. Her gut clenched at the thought of Frank dating someone. Mel struggled to ignore the stabbing pain and swirling nausea.

‘Baran – what is this?’ Frank’s form flopped as he stared up at their attending. Mel typically had a read on Frank. The many variations in his voice. But this voice was new and alien to Mel. Very controlled and lacking any emotion.

‘Just a declaration form. Figured you guys hadn’t had the time to get it done.’

‘Us?’ They spoke in unison.

Baran blinked owlishly at them. Her large eyes looking all the larger as they flicked from one person to the other. Mel had gotten a little used to people making snap judgments about her and Frank. But typically they were people they didn’t know. Patients or people at random events. At least once a month someone thought they were dating or something.

It hurt.

Mel couldn’t like about that. There was also that little flare of happiness at people thinking that about her. Like Frank say her as anything but a friend or even a little sister. There were people like him and people like her. Yes they had a very special friendship. A bond that seemed to form instantly and even after his sabbatical hadn’t changed. It had just grown deeper. But there was simply no way he felt anything other than that.

Mel was doing her best to get over it. Struggling. Trinity and Samira had been pushing her to just talk to him. But she couldn’t risk it.

Frank as her friend was more important than her stupid feelings.

Baran’s face drained of colour as realisation hit them all at the same time. ‘Oh my god I am so sorry I just... Mel and Santos mentioned- and Frank you talked about- Oh fuck me. Can we just pretend this didn’t happen?’

It was as close to rattled as Mel had ever seen her. She placed her form back down on the desk like it was potentially infectious. ‘See you tomorrow Dr Al.’ Mel scurried out of the office, desperate to get out of her scrubs and get away from this moment.

Unfortunately this of course was the week Mel’s car was in the shop. So Frank was her ride. The car ride was as awkward as it could possibly be. Frank non stop drumming to a random beat in his head. Mel pretending to listen to the podcast. But not a single word was hitting her brain. Pity because she loved Sawbones.

Frank still walked her to the door. Despite the tension. Mel assuming he was processing the ridiculousness of someone thinking he was dating her. She’d met Abby for gods sake. Tall and stunning with razor sharp wit and biting tongue. Everything Mel wasn’t.

On nights Franks didn’t have the kids he’d come in for tea or even dinner depending on their shift. For the first time he hovered unsure in the door frame. He didn’t have the kids tonight.

‘Oh god this is dumb.’ He marched in, kicking his shoes off as he usually didn’t. Trying to shake off the awkward vibe. It wasn’t really working but at least it was an attempt. Mel nodded in agreement. Disappearing to get changed as Frank got the tea ready and opened up local delivery places.

So he was staying.

Okay. She could work with that. The panic attack could be shoved off until later.

So maybe she dressed in her slightly nicer lounge clothes. The ones that made her feel not just comfy but pretty as well. Little tighter in places and skimpier. Not OTT or anything but enough that Mel could feel it. Just a little spring in her step. She did take a moment to watch Frank as he pottered around her kitchen. Looking like he belonged there. Mel wasn’t delusional: she was fully aware of how hot Frank was even on his worst day. But him at home in her home, in his own clothes. It was almost too much.

‘I’ve ordered you some more tea.’ He passed over his phone so she could pick something. Mel shot him a look. He had a stupid tendency to buy things for her when she was perfectly capable of getting it herself. But he never listened to her.

Mel went with her usual safe choice foods. Trying to change the payment details before- ‘Nuh uh.’ -the phone was snatched out of her hand. His laugh was loud and bright as she aimed a middle finger at him.

‘You need to stop doing that.’

‘Eh I have covered a few extra shifts this month.’ Mel cradled the tea, watching the steam dance in the air.

The silence settled into something a little more comfortable. But there was a little hesitancy between them. Without looking up, for fear of what she would see Mel let herself ask the question. ‘Why do you think people assume...’ She couldn’t say it. Just couldn’t bring herself to say the absolute impossible. ‘... what they assume.’

Frank sat down at the island opposite her. His fingers tapping out another erratic rhythm. Like when he was working on a particularly tricky puzzle. Mulling over her question. Probably trying to come up with a gentle way of letting her down. He must have some idea that her feelings were less than platonic. Or more. Depending on how you looked at it.

‘People do assume things all the time. But how offended must you be at this stage.’ Frank was shaking his head with a deeply sad look on his face. Her own head shot up in time to catch it.

Confusion and hope bloomed dangerously. ‘Me being offended? What are you talking about? It’s ridiculous anyone would think you’d see me that way.’

Sometimes Mel’s honesty really was uncontrollable. Like the time she told Dennis that he needed to learn how to be an R2 before he became an attending. Or that Shen’s new cologne smelled like the microlab. Or that she really didn’t think well of Adam’s parents for having zero consideration for her not being in the loop.

Being honest was an advantage in many ways but with her social skills, she did end up in weird positions and no idea how to get out.

Frank’s eyebrows were twisting and dancing peculiarly. Like what she had said was in a foreign language. She was equally confused. Why would she be offended over the assumption? He was her best friend and one of the nicest people she’d ever met. Him being a truly talented and smart doctor with so many shared interests with her. Sometimes it felt like a big cosmic joke. Mel wasn’t oblivious to the startled and confused looks when Frank sought her out for things. Or saw them laughing and hanging out. Women like her never got to be seen with men like him.

Frank stood up, not rushing to her side but moving with determination. The sort he had when he knew exactly what to do in a trauma. Mel wasn’t sure what to do. It was startling having that intensity focused on her.

Her brain was telling exactly what was about to happen. But it still didn’t feel real. Not even as he gently took the hot mug of tea out of her hand. Again giving her space to pull back. Not moving fast like in a trauma. That silent understanding between them.

‘Is Santos still trying to set you up with people.’

What? ‘What?’ Yes she was an intelligent woman. The question came out of left field.

‘Is Santos still sending you out on shitty dates?’ Frank had quickly become her fake emergency person for those dates. So he’d been witness to her rants about Trinity’s weird choices or interpretations of what Mel would be interested in.

‘I have been dodging her attempts.’

‘Good.’

Before Mel could ask, his hand was in her hair and his lips were pressed up against hers. A part of her brain hoped that he hadn’t placed the order for the food yet. Her appetite was going in a complete different direction now and she would be tempted to cut anyone who would dare interupt. this.

Sometimes assumptions were true.

You wake up to the muffled sound of a spatula hitting the floor and Bakugou’s gravelly voice whispering-yelling. "I told you the eggs need to be fluffy, Shitty Hair! Move!"

Smiling gently to yourself, you know that Eijirou and Katsuki will be making their way into the room with breakfast soon, no doubt for a Valentine's Day surprise for you.

Minutes later, the door creaks open, Eijirou leading the way, beaming at you with a tray of heart-shaped pancakes and fresh fruit in his hands, while Katsuki follows behind him with a mug of your favorite coffee, looking suspiciously proud of the perfectly crisped bacon.

"Happy Valentine's Day, sunshine!" Eijirou chirps with a grin as he settles next to you onto the edge of the bed to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, causing you to smile up at him.

Katsuki sets the coffee down on your nightstand with a huff, though the corner of his mouth twitches upward as he sits down on the other side of the bed, next to you. "Eat up before it gets cold. We didn't spend an hour arguing over batter consistency for nothing."