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The first time Frank Langdon notices Mel’s relationship with Jack Abbot, it’s a slow Tuesday night in September; he’s leaning against the hub, looking up at the screens, hoping they’ll change to something more interesting than the current prospects. Mel is walking through the hallway, tablet tucked underneath her arm. Abbot siddles up beside her, resuming a conversation they must have had earlier.
“Seven, Friday.” He says to her.
“Do you want me to bring anything?” She asks, slowing her pace to match his as they approach the hub.
“Christ, King.” He laughs. “No. You’re not bringing anything, my treat.”
“I could bake a cake?” She posits.
“With all that free time you have? No way.” His pager beeps, and he’s being pulled elsewhere. “I mean it, don’t bring anything.”
Mel sighs as he vanishes, her attention now on Frank. “Good Evening, Dr. Langdon.”
“Hey, Mel.” He says, sounding a little more grumpy than he intended, he cringes internally. “What was that about?”
“Oh, I’m just going over to Jack’s for dinner on Friday.”
Jack? Frank thinks. “I didn’t know you two were that close.”
She shrugs. “I guess you could call it that.”
Then she’s off as well, leaving Frank bewildered and wondering what the hell close meant to her.
—
The second time, he’s at Mel’s apartment. She’d graciously offered to dog-sit for him so he and Abby could spend Thanksgiving at her parents' house with their kids. He loved his dog, Benny, to the moon and back, but four hours in a car with a two and a four-year-old was not his personal idea of fun. And besides, Becca was great with Benny; he definitely got more snuggles, treats, and park time at the King sisters’ place than a boarder.
Mel invites him in for a coffee, a small pleasure he allowed himself to steal away when his wife wasn’t looking. His wedding ring, loose and begging to be resized, clunked against the side of his mug when he picked it up from the table, piquing Mel’s attention to his lips as he brought it up to his lips. He noticed this, of course, because he notices everything about her. Since the moment he saw her, he’d been enraptured by her, completely captivated by her paradoxical combination of hesitation and competence.
He looks across the table at her; she’s beautiful in the setting sun, golden beams of light sifting through her kitchen blinds, illuminating her brown eyes so Frank can see every fleck and detail in them. He listens to her talk about all the fun things she and Becca did with his dog, taking him to a park every day, and allowing him a puppuccino from the cafe down the street. She tells Frank some absurd story about chasing down her childhood dog after she’d left the gate open, her hands animated as she tells the story, until her left hand knocks Frank’s cup of coffee over, spilling it in its entirety all over the table, floor, and Frank.
Mel makes an alarmed noise, panicking at the sight of coffee dripping down Frank’s sweats. She immediately reaches for a tea towel, haphazardly palming at his crotch without thinking, trying to sop up the mess she’d made. All it would take was one hand in the wrong place for Frank to lose his composure. He quickly stands up, the chair falling to the ground behind him. Unbeknownst to him, Mel’s frantic actions left her unbalanced, and she fell forward, forearms caught by Frank in an effort to keep her upright.
Frank looks down and realizes how close Mel’s body is to his. Her wild blond hair falling beautifully around her face, her brown eyes looking up at him, and the soft flesh of her arms in his hands are just a few reasons he begins to lose his mind. He reaches up, tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and leaves his hand resting on her face, looking down at her for what seems like hours. Frank starts to move forward an–
“I’ll get you something!” She squeals, wrenching herself away from Frank’s personal space. She disappears down a hallway and reemerges moments later with a pair of gym shorts. “I’m sorry, this is all I have. I hope they fit.”
She holds them out to Frank, who looks puzzled. “They’re Jack’s.” She supplies.
Jack’s? Dr. Jack Abbot? What the fuck? Frank thinks, his mind wild with theories. Are they gym buddies? Friends maybe?
Frank takes the shorts from her hands and quickly ducks into the bathroom to change. The fabric of the shorts should feel like butter, considering they were Abbot’s. His expensive taste almost guaranteed that his entire wardrobe was outfitted with Lulu Lemon and Carhartt, but they feel like sandpaper. The idea that Abbot’s clothes were sitting, waiting for his return, in Mel’s house has him fuming. He tries desperately not to show his anger as he bids Mel goodbye and loads his dog into his car he tries desperately not to give in to his instincts and claim her as his own. He tries not to think about Jack Abbot fucking his Mel. He rolls down the window, giving her a final goodbye.
“Bye, Benny!” She hums as she pets the golden retriever in the passenger seat through the unrolled window. “Bye, Frankie.” She winks at him, and he floors it back to his house.
—
The third time, it’s been a horrible shift. Mel and Frank have been glued together for most of it, tackling case after case with little time to breathe in between. A drunk guy who somehow fell through his glass coffee table, a sorority pledge who overdosed in her dorm room, and a car accident that annihilated an entire family for five. By hour six, Mel looks like a zombie, her eyes sullen and sad, tear stains freckling along the neckline of her lavender shirt. Frank nudges her towards the locker room, the door isolating them from the rest of the ED. They part wordlessly, each taking their first bathroom break all shift.
Abby has requested that he not call past midnight, so he’s rushing back to his locker to fish out a picture of his kids to stare at. As he rounds the corner, he hears hushed tones, Abbot’s gentle tone comforting someone. He takes a peek, careful not to reveal himself, and sees Mel’s frame opposite the older doctor’s, his hand on her shoulder.
“Here.” Abbot says, handing something over to her. “I thought you should have it.”
Mel’s soft gasp sends a chill up Frank’s spine. He cranes his neck to see what’s being exchanged. Frank can see a faint slip of gold in her hands, a chain with something dangling from it. Mel whispers something, so quiet that Frank can’t make it out, but Abbot grunts affirmatively. She then turns around, and Frank watches in horror as Jack Abbot slips a necklace over Melissa King’s neck and clasps it for her. She looks down, more tears in her eyes as she admires it.
“Thank you, Jack.” She says, softly, sweetly, downright angelically. Frank feels like he’s going to be sick, and he stares at the two of them, looking at each other, then Mel moves to embrace Abbot. Frank turns on his heels and practically sprints out of the locker room. He avoids her for the rest of the shift.
—
Every year, Abbot hosts a New Year’s Eve party. Well, he calls it a New Year's Eve party, but really it happens on January 5th, when the craziness of the holiday dies down. For all intents and purposes, it’s a holiday party with all the booze, music, and bad decisions of NYE.
Frank is standing in Abbot’s living room, nursing a Pabst Blue Ribbon, the single one he’s allotted by his sponsor and wife. He’s bored, Abby isn’t here, and thank fuck she isn’t. He thinks she’d probably just bemoan how much she’d love a house like Abbot’s. He looks around at the art decorating the walls, beautiful pieces of art that Samira likely picked out, though neither of them would ever admit it. His gaze wanders towards Abbot’s office, a door tucked away to the side. Inside, he can see a bookcase holding various frames, and his curiosity gets the best of him.
Staring at the gold-framed film picture, Frank feels a pang of recognition. He can’t place the woman in the picture; from context, obviously, he can deduce that this is a photo of Abbot’s wife. A blond woman looks at the camera, her brown eyes warm and welcoming, her hair in an updo adorned with a white veil. She’s holding her wedding bouquet in front of her gorgeous white gown. Frank has known Abbot for a few short years; he knows that his wife has been dead for close to a decade. Abbot moved to Pittsburgh after her death from Detroit; there’s no conceivable way he could have known Abbot's wife. But still. Frank searched around for other pictures, a picture of her at the beach, Abbot and her at a fair. The most shocking photo he finds is a photo of two women, identical, holding two children, smiling up at the camera, all sharing similar features. He looks closer at one of the children, a small blonde girl. A small blonde girl with a mole beside her eye.
He hears the click of the study door shutting, and almost as if she were summoned, Mel appears at his side, a wine glass in hand.
“Please tell me you haven’t found my embarrassing high school graduation pictures.” She says, groaning as she flips a frame photo side down, hiding it before Frank takes notice of it, placing her wine glass down beside it.
“Why does Abbot have your graduation pictures?” Frank says, like a neanderthal that needs things spelled out for him.
“He loves a milestone.” She laughs. “Probably because he doesn’t have his own kids.”
Frank’s face twisted in confusion. “What are we talking about? How long have you known Abbot?”
“Well, I’m 29 years old, so about that long.” She says, matter-of-factly. Frank doesn’t respond; he just stares at her, mouth completely agape. “He’s my uncle, Frank.”
“Your uncle?” Frank laughs so hard he almost chokes. “Mel– I thou– I thought you were fucking him.”
Mel’s face contorts in horror. “Ew! Frank! That’s gross!” She sticks her tongue out of her mouth and makes a disgusted face, Frank’s eyes land on the way her nose crinkle and he wants to pepper it in kisses.
“I thought you were going on dates, his clothing was at your house– an– and I saw him give you jewelry in the locker room for fuck’s sake. Mel, what the hell was I supposed to think?”
“Okay,” Mel starts, “Jack married my aunt, my mom’s identical twin. They’re both gone, and Jack and I are kind of the only ones in the family left. He helps me with Becca– he helps me with everything frankly. And!” She pulls a necklace out from the neckline of her knit green sweater. “This necklace was my mom's, she passed first, and I guess she left it to Aunt Kristi, and Jack found it in a box when he was moving stuff around. He gave it to me as soon as he could.”
Frank reaches out and touches the small pendant, a diamond hanging off a simple gold chain. His thumb traces the stone, fingers brushing against her collarbone, he can feel her shiver underneath his touch.
“Frank–” she sighed. He let go of the pendant and moved to bring his hand back. Mel reached out and stopped him, holding her hand in hers.
“Mel.”
“Kiss me, Frank.”
He does, he takes her jaw delicately in his hands, parting his lips to allow her tongue to enter his mouth. She sighs, exploring like she was trying to memorize the taste of him.
His hands sink into her hair, and hers find his waist, slender fingers flitting to the hem of his sweater. She tastes like wine and sugar cookies, heaven rolled into a kiss.
The jiggling of the door handle snaps them both back to reality, accompanied by some grumbling.
“Why is this door locked?” He hears a voice say, followed by knocking. Mel stifles a laugh and covers her mouth.
She elbows him, eyeing him to do something.
“Uh,” he speaks up, still holding Mel in his arms.
“Langdon? Why are you locked in my office? Are you okay?”
“He’s fine!” Mel uncovered her mouth to yell. The jiggling of the door handle resumed.
“Langdon, why are you locked in my office with my niece?” Jack’s voice teetered on playful, but Frank could tell he was being paternal.
“I didn’t know she locked the door.” He called out, “I’m the victim here.”
“You’re exactly where you want to be, mister, you take that back.” Mel shushes him.
“What are the chances I get out of this interaction unscathed?” Frank ducked his head down to whisper in her ear.
“If I’m being honest,” Mel whispered back, biting her lip playfully. Frank wanted to capture it again. “You’re dead if you go out there. He’s a vet, I’m his pseudo-daughter, and you're married.”
“Then what’s the plan, baby?
“Your car is out front, right?” He nods. “Okay, good, you have the keys?” Another nod.
She breaks away from him, turning completely to the window next to the desk. She promptly unlocks it and hauls it open, exposing the screen and the cold winter air. Before Frank can protest or even process what she is doing, she carefully unfastens the screen, and she straddles the windowsill.
“Thank god we’re on the first floor.” She said before disappearing out the window into the night.
Frank is stunned, jaw agape, and he rushes to the window to see Mel standing just a few feet below him on the front lawn in the snow. She motions with her hand to follow her.
Frank takes one last look behind him as Jack opens the door with a key. He hops out the window, joining his wild, funny girl down the driveway. Her laugh echoing though the neighbourhood as she sprints towards his car.
Frank chases her, eyes following the ethereal beauty that was Mel on a cold night; cheeks red, ponytail bouncing behind her. Finally catching up with her at the side of his SUV, him out of breath, Mel with her back on the door.
He kisses her, one last time, before unlocking the car.
“I like you a lot.” He says.
“I like you too.” She responds, her eyes crinkle in the way he loves, and this time, he takes his opportunity and kisses her again.