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The first time it happened, no one noticed. Not really.
It was just Dr. John Shen leaning a little too close, looking over Mel’s shoulder at the nurse’s station. His voice was low as he pointed out something on her tablet screen.
“You missed a fluctuation here,” he said.
Mel didn’t hesitate before shaking her head. “I didn’t miss it. I was just observing.”
Shen’s lips twitched. “Mm. Risky. I like it,” he said before taking a sip of his iced coffee.
There was a beat, a second too long, where neither of them pulled back.
Mel glanced up at him, eyebrow raised.
There was a flicker of something in Shen’s eyes. Amusement maybe? Interest.
“You’re one to watch, King.”
A few feet away, Frank Langdon looked up from his tablet.
He didn’t know why. He just… did.
After that, it kept happening. Small things, easy to dismiss if you weren’t paying attention.
But Frank was.
Bringing Mel tea without asking, always exactly how she liked it. Opening doors for her. Asking for her opinion more than anyone else’s when it came to cases.
Another time, he was right there to re-tie her gown before a trauma came in, fingers brushing her shoulder just a little too slowly.
“Loose,” he said.
“It wasn’t,” Mel replied.
“Now it definitely isn’t.”
The corners of her mouth tipped upward.
Langdon noticed that one too. He noticed all of them.
It shouldn’t have bothered him. That’s what he told himself.
Mel was her own person. Shen was… Shen. Confident, witty, and annoyingly good at everything. Of course he flirted– it meant nothing.
Except, it didn’t feel like nothing. And Frank hated that he could see it before anyone else seemed to.
“Your reaction time was off today.”
Langdon raised his eyebrows without looking up from the computer in the trauma bay. “Was it?”
Shen leaned against the standing desk that held the computer Langdon was charting on. “You hesitated.”
Langdon glanced over to briefly meet his fellow resident’s gaze before his eyes returned to the screen in front of him. “What do you want, Shen?”
A pause.
“You seem distracted lately,” John replied with a hint of something knowing in his eyes. He sipped his coffee.
Langdon huffed dryly. “Funny. I could say the same thing about you.”
Shen lifted a brow. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Making a few extra coffee runs lately?”
He didn’t say Mel’s name. He didn’t have to.
Something flickered in Shen’s expression. Not defensive, or guilty. But, interested.
“Is that a problem?”
Langdon returned his gaze to Shen’s, his grip tightening slightly on the computer mouse
“Should it be?”
Another pause. Then, Shen straightened, pushing off the table and taking another sip of his coffee.
“Doesn’t have to be.”
Frank watched his colleague walk away, as if he hadn’t just started something.
Outside the half-open door of the trauma bay, Dr. Michael Robinavitch, “Robby”, stood watching, not quite sure what he had just witnessed.
That night, Langdon was prepared to stayed late.
He had deliberately been behind on his charting every day for the past few weeks, lacking any sense of urgency to leave once his shift was over.
All that awaited him was an empty apartment.
That, and he had remained with patients longer than usual for the last hour.
He didn’t want to see them together again.
Didn’t want to watch the way Mel laughed after Shen cracked a joke. The way he looked at her like he was figuring her out piece by piece, and liking what he found.
Frank ran a hand through his hair.
This was ridiculous.
He was divorced. Done with that part of his life. No complications or attachments.
“Dr. Langdon?”
Mel stood on the other side of the counter, jacket and backpack on, ready to leave for the night. “You’re still here?”
“Yeah,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Got a lot of charting left to do.”
She looked to her left, and then down as she responded, “You’ve been…saying that a lot lately.”
Frank looked up at her. “So have you.”
She smiled faintly, briefly meeting his gaze before looking down again. “Touché.”
A quiet settled between them.
Then she lifted her head, swallowing before asking, “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine-”
“I’m just tired.”
“Okay.”
She didn’t believe him, and he could tell.
And there was a second where he almost told her.
About his divorce, about the empty apartment. About how watching her laugh with someone else felt like something twisting beneath his ribs.
“I’m fine, Mel.” he responded instead.
Her expression softened and she didn’t push. “Okay.”
She turned to leave, then paused, turning back around to face him.
“Shen says you’ve been off your game.”
Langdon’s jaw tightened. “Did he?”
“Yeah.” She said, swallowing. “I told him he’s wrong.”
That caught him off guard. “You did?”
“Yeah.” Mel shrugged lightly. “Because you don’t hesitate. Not unless something matters.”
Their eyes met, and lingered a bit too long.
The room felt smaller, the hushed chaos of the Pitt around them all but disappearing.
“So,” she added, softly. “Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out.”
The corners of her mouth tipped upward, slightly, before she turned to leave.
Langdon exhaled slowly once she was gone.
Something mattered. And that was the problem..
The next day’s shift started like any other.
Too many patients, not enough hands. The steady buzz of overlapping voices and controlled chaos of the ER humming around them.
Michael Robinavitch stood at the nurse’s station in the center of the Pitt, contemplating assignments and teams for the day. He looked up from his tablet–
And immediately wished he hadn’t.
A few paces away, Mel was focused in on a chart, brow slightly furrowed,
– with Shen leaning in close beside her. One hand braced on the counter near her arm, the other pointing at her screen.
“You skipped a lab,” he said.
“I didn’t skip it,” Mel replied quickly. “I’m just prioritizing.”
Shen hummed. “Bold.”
Mel huffed slightly. “Just efficient.”
“Maybe both.”
Robby narrowed his eyes.
And then, he noticed Langdon. Standing across the ER by one of the trauma bay entrances.
Watching.
He looked down at his chart a second too late. His jaw tightened just slightly. Shoulders stiff, like he was forcing himself to stay put.
It took Robby a second before it all clicked at once.
Shen.
Mel.
Langdon.
“…absolutely not.” Robby muttered.
Beside him, Dana glanced over. “What now?”
Robby didn’t look at her. “Nothing.”
Dana frowned. “That didn’t sound like nothing.”
“It’s nothing,” he repeated, already done with the entire situation.
He gestured vaguely toward the floor instead. “Just– focus on our patients.”
Dana gave him a look, clearly unconvinced, before walking away.
Mel, completely oblivious, shifted her chart and accidentally brushed Shen’s arm, nearly causing him to drop his coffee.
“Sorry,” she said automatically.
Shen’s mouth curved up slightly. “You’re fine.”
She didn’t even look at him. Just kept working.
“This is how it starts,” Robby muttered under his breath.
It kept happening. Shen hovering, finding excuses to be close to Mel. Leaning in to speak softly near her ear.
And Langdon saw everything.
“You’re overcorrecting,” Shen murmured at one point.
Mel frowned slightly. “No, I’m adjusting based on–”
“I know.” he smirked.
She paused, thrown off for half a second. “…okay.” she muttered nervously before returning to work.
Across the room, Frank quietly unraveled.
His eyes kept drifting back to them, even when he forced them away.
It all came to a head that evening in Trauma 2. The night shift crew had just arrived to relieve day shift.
Mel was at the bedside, adjusting the freshly placed arterial line, focused as the monitor beeped steadily.
“Pressure’s dipping.” one of the nurses announced as the new cuff pressure resulted.
“I’ve got it,” Mel said, already moving.
Shen stepped in beside her, his hand closing lightly over hers to steady the line.
“Careful,” he murmured.
Mel stiffened slightly, but didn’t pull away.
“I– yeah, I know.” she said.
“I know you do.” Shen said, squeezing her arm ever so subtly.
“That’s enough.”
Langdon’s voice sharply cut through the room.
Mel looked up, startled. “What?”
Frank didn’t look at her. Didn’t even acknowledge her. His eyes stayed locked on Shen.
“We’re in the middle of a trauma,” he said, tightly.
“I’m aware,” Shen replied, with a hint of calm arrogance.
Langdon stepped closer. “Then act like it.”
Mel blinked, looking between them. “I– what?”
No one answered her.
Shen tilted his head slightly. “Problem?”
Langdon didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
The air grew heavier, the tension palpable.
“What is happening?” Mel asked, more uncertain now.
Still, no one answered her.
Langdon’s jaw tightened. “You’re being careless.”
“With the patient?” Shen asked.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Mel looked between them again, completely lost.
“I don’t,” she announced, hoping for some kind of explanation.
Shen’s gaze flicked to her briefly, before returning to Langdon.
“…then say it.” he said.
Langdon didn’t. He couldn’t– not here, and not like this.
“This isn’t the place,” he said instead.
Shen took a step closer. “Then where is?”
Mel stepped in quickly, nerves finally kicking in. “Hey– stop. Both of you.”
Neither moved.
Which made her voice tighten. “I don’t– what is happening right now?”
She turned to Langdon, confused and a little shaken.
He stepped back, briefly glancing at her before his eyes returned to Shen’s.
“I’ve got another patient,” he said tightly. He briskly exited the room, nearly running into Robby who stood outside the doorway on his way out.
Everything rushed back in.
“BP stabilizing!”
“Let’s move.”
Mel finished securing the arterial line, though her hands weren’t as steady anymore.
A few minutes later, she stepped into the hallway, pulling off her gloves, still unsettled.
Shen followed, slower.
“What… what was that?” she muttered.
He watched her for a second.
“…you really don’t see it?” he asked.
Mel frowned. “See what?”
“He likes you.”