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With the value of time, rehab, and therapy, Frank understands that he has hurt a lot of people. Some of this has to do with his addiction, but the marriage counseling that they began too late and continued for the sake of co-parenting after the divorce proceedings, makes him understand that he certainly wasn't the best husband in the world without the benzos, either.
And while Jake still likes his photos on Instagram (including that very pathetic attempt at stuffed shells that looked more like his shells had gotten a good case of gastritis), the relationship with Robby is … maybe unpreparable.
He hates that, just as much as he hates that he can't fix his marriage, but he can't fix either one.
What he can do is focus on the relationships that he hasn't completely fucked up. By far, the brightest spot in life currently is Mel. Dear, sweet Mel, who, upon learning about his addiction, simply responded that many of the people at the VA experienced similar struggles and that "I'm here if you need anything."
So in the sweet post-divorce spot, when Frank starts to feel a tug in his heart that tells him that his feelings for Mel are starting to take a turn, he is determined not to listen to them, because he doesn't want to fuck up that relationship, too.
If there is anything that can be said about Frank Langdon, it is that he is stubborn.
Unfortunately, in his stubbornness, he misses five very vital clues that tell him that he is being a moron.
Clue #1: Instagram
The thing is, Frank hates most social media. But his colleagues weren't quite wrong when they accused him of being an adrenaline junkie. He's also needy, and possibly a bit of an attention whore (his sponsor thinks they should find a kinder word) and social media lets him get the attention that he craves on demand.
The marriage counseling that hadn't worked had suggested that he take cooking classes, and he'd managed to squeeze online ones into his schedule. So that and the dog take up most of his Instagram these days. Sad food pics and dog pics are great ways to get attention on Instagram, actually.
He's scrolling through his likes on a Sunday morning, when he's in bed. That's when he notices that Mel has followed him.
He didn't even know she had an Instagram, but he opens it up and it's exactly what he expected: advocacy, her sister, and a few pictures of vacation photos (again, with her sister.) There are a few selfies, that look like someone else took them actually (so not real selfies) and … hmm, well. That's unexpected.
When she's at work, she has her thick blonde hair pulled back in a single, tidy, efficient braid. These pictures have lose braids with strands that haven't been tucked into place, framing red cheeks that … really make Frank think things he shouldn't.
You aren't going to fuck this up, he reminds himself, as he follows her back.
He does like the picture with the messy braid, and instead of writing what he is thinking, he types u should wear your hair like this to work. ;) He erases and retypes it a few times before deciding it's fine and pressing send.
He is still looking through her photos (down bad his own voice taunts him in the back of his mind) when she replies to his comment. you like it messy? :)
For a full minute, he can't breathe and he wonders if the benzos have caught up with him. Maybe he's having a heart attack. Maybe this is his cosmic punishment for all his previous fuck-ups.
I would like to see it messy. I would like to see you messy. He breathes in and out and is thankful he doesn't have to get out of bed, because actually, a bed is perfect place for a hard-on.
He reminds himself that her social cues are sometimes different. Sometimes what she means by things, other people take the wrong way. He isn't going to fuck this up.
Responsibly, he types, "It's a neat look!"
Clue #2: She Calls Him Hot
It used to be that he would hate working the night shift. His favorites were on days - his favorites being Garcia, Dana, and Robby (though he will certainly never tell Garcia that). But since coming back from rehab, he loves night shift, actually.
It gets him away from Robby, who will likely never trust him again. It gets him away from Santos, who has apparently become a goddamn saint in Robby's eyes - and while Frank would love to stick around and wait for her to fail so he could enjoy that, getting distance enough so that nobody can blame him for being a big bad meanie to the poor insubordinate junior resident who doesn't understand how the chain of command works is fucking great, actually.
It gets him away from Dana, who is a saint, but who he knows he disappointed.
It actually is even better on the weekends, when he has the kids than day shift was. He gets to have dinner with them now and sometimes breakfast, too.
He still sees Garcia, because senior surgical residents hours are fucked.
He does miss Mel. He misses her so much, but when he tells her he is leaving, she squeezes his hand and tells him "Your sobriety is important. You should protect your peace. I'll miss you. But you'll stay in touch, right?"
And Collins watches the whole exchange. Collins, who hasn't been at all as judgmental as he expected her to be about anything. Collins who just sipped her coffee, raised an eyebrow, and told him to give Abbot hell.
It's weird how his addiction makes him requestion all of his relationships with people that he thought he knew.
Anyway, a week after he starts nightshift, Mel comes into the lounge at the start of his shift, in crisp, clean scrubs.
"Hey," he says. "You are here pretty late."
"No," she says. "I'm here on time."
"What?"
"The third year resident on night shift - mmm, the one that transferred in from Hopkins - has been threatening to quit if he couldn't switch to days. Apparently, nights doesn't work well with his kids."
"What an asshole. Like the rest of us don't have kids, too." He pours the hot water into the cup and gets one of the tea bags out for her. She's a tea person, not coffee; he learned that from Instagram. She has an entire tea collection. He hates tea, actually, but it makes him want to taste all of it.
Or maybe he's just a horny pervert and a terrible friend. Both of these are possible.
"Well. I think he was just stressed. Anyway, you know, the administration wants to keep him, because he's from Hopkins."
"Fucking Hopkins." He hands her the tea.
"Oh, thank you." She smiles up at him and blows on the tea in a way that … he is definitely going to have thoughts about later, and god, why can't he be a good person? "Anyway, it was getting pretty heated with Dr. Robby and Gloria - "
"Oh, I fucking bet." He does miss those exchanges.
"But apparently, Dr. Collins suggested that I might not mind switching places with the third year. And she was right. So here I am."
Frank thinks back to the way Collins had watched the entire exchanged. Collins, who is now a goddamn attending. Collins, who had been on his side in a weird and friendly way that he had never expected. Collins who had reminded anyone who needed to hear it that addiction was a disease and their failure to remember that made them poor doctors. Collins... damn. He owes her a lot.
"What if I send her a basket of chocolate?" he wonders. "Is that weird?"
"What?" Mel asks.
"Oh, never mind. ADHD. Anyway, did Collins say why she thought you wanted to come to night shift? You are okay that, right? You absolutely don't have to be here just because some Hopkins asshole thinks he's important."
"He's just as important as anyone else. Dr. Collins said she thought I might enjoy the 'scenery' more on nightshift."
Oh god. Never mind. Maybe he won't get her any chocolate.
"Scenery?"
"Yes. And she was right. I do. Prefer. The scenery."
She looks right at him, when she says it, and for a moment, Frank is almost sure she is telling him that he's hot. But the moment passes. He isn't going to fuck this up! In fact, he is going to go buy a fucking plant or whatever the 12 step advice is that he is sure he is fucking up.
"You know, she was making a joke, Mel. She was trying to say that you - "
"Would enjoy working with you more. Yes, you're the 'scenery.' I don't always get the joke, Frank. But Dr. Collins was kind enough to explain this one, when I was confused. And she was right. I do prefer the scenery on the night shift."
Her eyes are very intense shade of … oh, fuck all the thoughts he is going to have later.
"Well, we're very glad to have you on the night shift, Mel," he says awkwardly.
Clue #3: She Takes Him on a Date
"Forty-eight minutes!" Frank says cheerfully as the man is wheeled off and up to the cath lab. He reaches out to give Mel a high five, while Shen rolls his eyes.
"That's a new record!" she says cheerfully.
"Day shift could never!" he agreed.
"Would you like me to gleefully rub it in their faces?" Shen asks as he continues to shed his PPE. "Especially in Robby's?"
"Yes. And in that Hopkins' resident's face," Frank agrees. That Hopkins resident who had met him at the start of last shift, gloating about how well he was getting along with Santos, and had he - Frank - considered that maybe he just had an issue with strong women? Like every other woman that Frank got alone with just fine was some wilting fucking flower or whatever.
Frank had wished him a quiet shift in retaliation.
Shen laughs. "Good job, you two. You're starting to become my favorite team. Tell everyone that, so it will make them step up their game. Enjoy your weekend off! See you back here in two days."
Frank could start to love night shift.
"So, do you have to be home right away?" Mel asks as they head towards the lockers.
"No." The kids won't come over until after school. "Why, what's up?"
"Well, I was thinking. It was a long week. A pretty successful one. We just broke our record. Maybe we should celebrate. I know you'll be busy with the kids later, so I thought we could go out for breakfast."
His stomach growls and reminds him that he is starving. A year ago, he would have had a different solution, but right now, going to grab something to eat sounds great.
"Well, as you can probably hear, my stomach agrees with you," Frank says.
"I was thinking The Nook," Mel suggests. "It has vegetarian options. Plus your standard greasy fair that you seem to enjoy. It does do a boozy brunch, though. I don't know if that's something you need to avoid."
It's not judgmental, and Frank appreciates that, because he has a life full of people who are craving the opportunity to judge him on his choices. "Watching other people drink alcohol isn't a trigger. I should probably stay the fuck away drinking it, but other people can still get plastered. How are their pancakes?"
"Available in both healthy and decadent," she tells him, and he is tired, so it sounds like she emphasizes decadent a little too much.
He's a bad person, and a pervert, and he should just tell her that he wants to go home and go to bed. But instead, he offers her a ride, which she accepts, and they go to The Nook together. The drive there allows him to shake off some of the shift's tiredness.
Once there, three incredible things happen that confirm for Frank that the universe is trying to pay him back for all the mistakes he's made over the past two year or two or however long anyone wants to count, really. Maybe the universe is counting the past thirty years and some change, which, really is unfair, but would certainly explain why it delivers so much suffering in such a short amount of time.
The first thing that happens is that the menu proves to be impossible. Mel is right; decadence is the name of the game here. How is he supposed to choose between these pancakes? It's a cruel world, making him chose between chocolate cloud and Nutella, but in the end, he goes with double stack - salted caramel pancakes sound completely fucking ridiculous, and he will be eating all three of them, actually. Mel orders a Mediterranean omelet, because she is a good person and a better doctor than he is.
The second thing that happens to punish him is that, after they order, Mel begins to undo her braid. He is in mid-drink of water when this happens, and unfortunately, almost immediate aspiration begins. He is still in the middle of coughing when the last of her braid comes undone and her blond hair frames around her face in loose strands that are going to haunt him for the rest of the godforsaken night. Showers. The coldest of showers. "Are you okay?" she asks. "Do you need me to do the Heimlich?"
"I'm fine," he says, which is a goddamn lie. But the Heimlich can't fucking help him.
The third thing that happens to punish him is that Abbot walks in with Samira, and they sit at a table a few feet away.
"That's weird. Shouldn't she be at work?" he wonders.
"Oh, no. She's on vacation this week," Mel tells him.
"Then it's weird that she's here with Abbot," he answers.
"Maybe they're on a date. Like we are," Mel says.
A date.
A date.
He would like very much to be on a date. Except, that's not what Mel meant. Because sometimes Mel just says things that he takes out of context because he's a pervert actually, the kind of pervert who has definitely tried not to be thinking about a very dear friend when he's jerking off in the shower - and failing - and he is not going to fuck this up.
"Yeah. Didn't realize they were friends," he says. "Like we are."
Clue #4: She Suggests Sexual Positions
He does still see Garcia - a lot, actually, which is great, because he would miss his old frenemy otherwise. "How's my favorite strong woman I'm not intimidated by?" he greets her, which is an inside joke that makes her laugh and makes Hopkins boy furious.
Good, and fuck him too.
"I'm good," she says after Hopkins boy leaves the lounge. "You know, Langdon. I like you. I do. You know that, right?"
"I do. We've been over this once before, when you told me you would totally show me all the ways my dick was inadequate if you weren't a lesbian and I wasn't married."
"Glad you remember that conversation, Langdon. Anyway... I like you, but sometimes you're oblivious. Try listening better to your other favorite strong woman you aren't intimated by, okay?"
It's a weird conversation, but a full 75% of their conversations are weird as fuck, anyway - that's why he likes her. Still, the conversation weighs on his mind all night, and he's still thinking about it later that morning when he gets a text from Mel.
I was doing some research. I wanted to share the results of my findings with you.
Frank sighs and rolls his eyes. Normally, he loves his Mel's dedication to research and evidence-based medicine, but it is their time off, so really how can he say "save that until tomorrow?" nicely.
Then he looks at the link.
https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/back-sex
He blinks a few times. He thinks about asking one million questions, but if he was more cautious, he wouldn't have become a drug addict in the first fucking place. So he clicks the link... and it is indeed an entire a article devoted to what kind of sexual positions are best if you have a bad back.
Why is she researching that?
Is she thinking about me having sex?
Is she thinking about having sex with me?
Is he capable of not being a pervert? No. No is the answer to all of these questions. She is being a good person and a good friend, and wants him to stay safe. That's all it is. She's like the OSHA of workplace friends' sex lives... or whatever.
With great difficulty, Frank types out, thanks, mel. those look...helpful.
I have some more links. Would you like them?
that would be great.
He places the phone down and walks- with great difficulty to the shower. His earlier vow not to jerk off when thinking about Mel is tossed immediately to the wayside, because apparently it was too much to expect of him. There were six positions listed in that godforsaken article, and Frank makes it through exactly two and half of them before he comes.
In the aftermath, he turns the water on cold and lets it hit try to wash him clean - a nearly impossible task.
Clue #5: She Tells Him About Wanting to Find Someone to Kiss (and Possibly Fuck)
It takes months of careful planning to get the perfect gift for Mel's birthday. Dana catches him planning one day, when she stays over, and she remarks with a chuckle that "you never used to be this attentive to Abby."
"I'm in my 'not being an asshole anymore era', Dana," he tells her.
"Mmm. Is that what it is?" Robby says. "Cause you know, when Collins got those chocolates, I didn't get any. Kind of feel like that was an asshole move."
Frank bristles, in a way that he never did before. He bristles in a way that he doesn't with the night shift, or with Dana or Garcia or Mel or anyone but Robby.
"It was nice to talk to you again, Dana," he says. "Gotta go check in with my attending before I leave for the day." And he does march directly over to Abbot.
He sees something flash over Robby's face, and man, he will not feel guilt over it. Except that's a lie, of course. He stays feeling guilty about it, but what can he do? That relationship is dead and gone. He's been replaced as Robby's favorite resident, anyway.
What he can do is focus on Mel's birthday, so that's what he does. He can not fuck that up the way he's clearly fucked up his relationship with Robby and Abby.
When Mel's birthday does roll around, he surprises her with a special porcelain Gonfu tea set. He also gifts her a vinyl version of Megan Thee Stallion's "Good News" album.
They're meeting at The Nook, because really, why would he have these presents opened at their godforsaken hospital and risk them being damaged? That album is the kind of splurge that an attending should be buying anyway?
It's a good idea, and Frank is currently pretending that he can't see Robby and Collins at a table about three feet away. He also pretends he can't see Garcia walk in and give him two thumbs up. Is everyone in Pittsburgh either on vacation or coming to this place? Robby is definitely looking at him funny. He's mouthed the word "scenery" five times to Collins. He might be having a stroke.
Please don't let that old man have a stroke on Mel's birthday, he thinks. I can't fix the relationship if he's fucking dead. God.
"Oh!" she says, a little too loudly, but also adorably. "Frank, these are amazing."
What's amazing is the way she definitely hums her little fight song under her breath as she cradles the vinyl in her hands.
What's truly amazing is how ridiculously head over heels he is for this woman. But in the spirit of not fucking things up, he pushes that thought away. As he has done multiple times over the past year.
"Do you have any special plans for your birthday?" he asks, figuring it is a safe turn for the conversation.
Boy, he is wrong.
She leans in, as if to confide something very important, and says, confidently, "I'm hoping for a kiss."
Last time they were here, he choked on his water, which was unpleasant. This time, he chokes on a nutella-coated piece of pancake, which is worse. It's much, much worse.
"Heimlich?" she asks, again.
Still coughing, he shakes his head.
But maybe he will die, he thinks. He will die because he is a pervert who can't stop lusting after his best friend. Is she his best friend? He pointedly doesn't look over in the direction of Robby and Collins. He does not.
"Maybe we should stop coming here," Mel is saying. "You tend to choke here a lot."
"Maybe you're trying to kill me," he jokes.
She tilts her head. "I am not trying to kill you. I am trying to seduce you. It doesn't seem to be going well."
"What?" That is loud. God, that is loud. At least five tables turn their head. He still isn't looking over at Robby, but he is sure that Robby is looking at him. Probably Garcia, too. God, that was loud. He lowers his voice. "Seduce me?"
"Well." Mel tucks an unnecessary string of hair behind her ear and carefully sets her presents down beside her plate. "Haven't you noticed?"
She looks at him earnestly, and he is certain that he has slipped and fallen and hit his head in the shower. He's having some crazy delusion in a coma somewhere. Hell, maybe he never got off the drugs and he's overdosed and having the worst possible drug-induced delusion possible.
"No?" He says, and his voice sounds small and confused, which is convenient, because he is very much both.
She frowns at him. "I have been flirting with you. Overtly, even. Very, very overtly at times. I was beginning to think perhaps you just did not … reciprocate. But are you saying... you didn't notice? How is that possible?"
He does the most intelligent thing possible. He just stares at her.
"First, I followed you on Instagram. And flirted with you on there, too."
Okay, that was kind of true.
"Then I changed my shift to match yours and told you that I found you attractive."
Oh. Well, that ... scenery, huh? Fuck.
"Then I started taking you on breakfast dates. We have been on 14 breakfast dates, Frank. Do you go on breakfast dates with anyone else?"
"Well, no."
"Then, I sent you sexual positions. For us to try. Together."
He's so glad there's nothing in his mouth. He really would choke then. And die.
"For us to try. Together?" he repeats.
She nods.
"Goddamn. I am an idiot."
She wrings her hands. "And now, we are here. Today. And I am telling you that I want to kiss someone. For my birthday. While I am sitting across from you. On one of our breakfast dates."
She pauses, and she looks distressed. He would give anything to make her look not distressed.
"I'm sorry," he says. "I thought - I was trying. I thought. I'm an idiot. That's the thing."
"You are not. You're a very smart, very talented doctor," she denies.
"Yes, but." He takes a deep breath. "Sometimes you and I aren't on the same social cues highway. And this relationship matters a lot to me. I didn't want to fuck it up the way I fucked up ... everything with Abby and Robby... And everyone. So when I thought ... when I hoped you might be flirting, I tried to convince myself I was just being an asshole and ignored it."
"But I was flirting. And you weren't being an asshole."
"Yeah. Yeah, I guess not." He clears his throat. "Listen, I love our dates, but can we pay and ditch this place? I would ... like to try out some of your research, Dr. King."
"I love evidence-based medicine," she says solemnly.
He laughs, and she squeezes his hand. For the first time in a long time, he doesn't feel like a horrible person.