Frank hates seeing the slump of Mel's shoulders as she shuts her locker at the end of another tough shift. They'd both lost kids, and their break in the ambulance bay was mostly spent in silence.
He's dreading going home to his almost-empty apartment, alone except for the dog. The dog, who Abby foisted off on him as soon as possible. The dog, whose doggy daycare and dog walker are slowly bankrupting him—not that he has much in his bank account, these days, after rehab, and rehab again, and paying a mortgage and rent, and his divorce attorney, and—
"You doing anything tonight?" Mel asks, interrupting his self-pitying spiral.
"Probably just taking the dog to the park and hoping she tires out if I throw a stick far enough." It hasn't worked yet, but Frank has committed to far more hopeless endeavors.
"Oh! That sounds so fun!"
Frank bites back a groan as he straightens up from his own locker. He flashes back to Mel's happiness their first day together, sitting on the floor with Crosby. She seems more like a cat person, but maybe—
"Would you want to come with us?" he asks, and she perks up, like some of the weight she was carrying is already sliding off her shoulders.
"I wouldn't want to intrude," she demurs, clutching the strap across her chest. "I didn't mean to invite myself!"
"Definitely not intruding. It'd be nice to hang out away from here." She smiles, tentative, and he feels like he can do better. "Plus, she loves meeting new people, so you'd really be doing me a favor."
She beams up at him, then, her real, sunshine smile, and Frank feels like he's done something right. Finally.
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