Chapter Text
“You know what your problem is?”
You glanced up from your workstation.
Workstation was generous.
You were tucked into the corner of a supply closet with a rolling cart that had somehow become your desk.
“Don't you have nurses to bother, Franklin?" you asked, turning back to your work.
Frank Langdon smirked as he leaned over your cart.
"I've watched you turn MRI machines into pirate ships…”
You narrowed your eyes.
"That's a problem?”
Frank leaned closer.
"Yet I don't think I've ever seen you smile.”
You felt your cheeks heat up as you ducked your head.
"I smile plenty, Franklin,” you muttered. "Kind of my job.”
"Sure."
He shrugged.
He gave a painfully practiced customer-service grin.
"'Everything is fine. Here's a sticker.'”
He plucked one of the extras from your cart.
“But you never smile with your eyes. When's the last time you did something fun?"
You looked down at your cart. Then at him. Then back at your cart. You were currently elbow deep in pink paper chains, pink balloons, and pink cut out hearts.
"This is fun,” you finally said.
Frank shook his head.
"No,” he insisted. "This is work. This is fun for others."
He clapped his hand against the cart.
“I got it. Let's go to—”
Suddenly your pager went off.
“Hold that thought."
You quickly pulled it out, holding up a finger.
“Break time’s over."
You turned and started grabbing the necessary supplies.
A teddy bear.
Fake IV kit.
Tub of putty.
Another sheet of dinosaur stickers.
You turned back to Frank, your arms now full.
You let out a breath.
Damn him.
For a moment, you felt the mask begin to fall.
You hated when he looked at you like that. Like he was waiting for you.
“I'm fine," you insisted, moving past him.
“When do you get off today?” he asked, grabbing your cart.
He fell in step with you.
You glanced at him.
“Same time as you, Franklin.”
You pumped your fist slightly.
“Day shift warriors,” you muttered.
Frank smirked.
“And you like cats?”
You stopped short, looking at him.
“I’m not going to that cat bakery with you, Franklin.”
Frank grinned.
“But you like cats.”
“I don’t have time for this,” you answered.
Your pager beeped again. You sighed heavily as you tugged it out of your pocket.
You looked up at him before turning to go back to your supply clos—office.
“I barely have time for this conversation.”
You smiled.
“Thank you, Frank. But I’m fine.”
Frank followed after you.
“We can go Tuesday,” he continued. “When you’re off next.”
You threw your hands up before he could say another word.
“You’re doing too much, Frank!” you snapped.
He frowned.
Your stomach churned.
"I gotta go."
Before he could answer, you slipped back into your office and quietly shut the door.
You sucked in a breath and leaned against it.
Waiting for the sound of fading footsteps.
“I just want you to know…”
You closed your eyes.
“I’ll see you around, Franklin.”
You took a deep breath and began pulling more from the shelves.
Construction paper.
Markers.
Stickers.
Book on processing grief.
Teddy bear with recorder.
You added the basket to the cart. Right next to the putty and dinosaur stickers.
The contrast made your heart break.
You couldn't wait for this shift to end.
You grabbed the cart and used your hip to open the door.
As you backed out, you paused.
“Don't you have patients to save, Franklin?" you asked.
Frank checked his watch and shrugged.
"I'm on break.”
You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head
"ER Ken doesn't get breaks,” you responded as you pushed your cart down the hall.
"Maybe that's what you need,” he continued, following after you. “A vacation."
“Right," you muttered. “Because that's something I can afford."
“Don't even have to take time off. Just go on your weekend. Maybe go to the beach?"
You press the elevator button. When you stepped inside, you did your best not to look at him.
You failed.
“I thought you said vacation.”
You held the button as Frank looked at you. He really needed to stop doing that.
“Franklin.”
Your lip twitched as he waited expectantly.
You took a deep breath.
“What's the address of that cafe?"
His grin nearly took your breath away.
“I'll pick you up. Five o'clock. Wear something colorful," he said quickly as the elevator began to close.
"It's a date!”
You couldn't stop the laugh that escaped.
You shook your head as the doors slid shut.
"Not a date!”
"It's totally a date."
You rolled your eyes as his words slipped past the now moving elevator.
—
Frank's hand hovered as he stood outside your office. The cup of coffee he bought was getting cold. You were supposed to be getting off any minute now.
“You're not going to find her in there."
Frank didn't look at who was talking.
“I know, Santos."
He'd already been standing there for ten minutes.
Santos smirked as she tried to take the coffee from him.
Frank slowly moved it behind his back.
Santos shrugged.
"I couldn't do what she does.”
Frank smiled softly.
"No one does what she does.”
Santos turned to look at him.
“Does your breathing always change when you talk?"
Frank hadn't even noticed.
Santos smirked.
“You should get that looked at."
“Get what looked at?"
Frank spun, nearly spilling the coffee.
“Hey!"
The lid popped off, causing the lukewarm coffee to spill over the top.
“Uh…"
Frank looked down at the cup.
Then back at you.
He cleared his throat and held it out anyway.
“This is for you."
You looked down at the cup.
And then back at Frank.
“If you won't take it…” Santos cut in.
You quickly grabbed the cup. More coffee sloshed out the top.
"Thank you, Franklin.”
Santos raised an eyebrow as you took a sip.
"Franklin? Seriously?”
Frank didn't look at her.
"Don't you have charting to finish?”
Santos smirked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Actually, no, Franklin. I got finished earlier. I was thinking I'd spend the last hour of my shift with my good friends—"
Frank waved her off.
“Yeah, yeah. Bye Santos."
You chuckled, taking another sip of your coffee.
Frank grinned.
“Walk you to your car?"
You tilt your head.
“I took the bus today, Franklin."
You unlocked your office, stepping inside.
Frank followed.
"Want a ride home, then?”
You glance at him as you began putting the supplies back in their designated drawers.
“Do you even know where I live?"
Frank grabbed a stack of coloring books and placed them on the shelf.
"For the next couple hours?"
He slid another stack onto the shelf.
"The cat café.”
You glanced at him as he leaned against the shelf.
You grab your label maker and begin printing out new expiration dates for the putties.
You hand him the new labels.
"Make yourself useful and maybe I can get out of here before it gets dark.”
You quickly show him which stack to add them to.
“I didn't know putty had expiration dates," he remarked, following your directions.
“They do once they've been opened."
Silence fell as the two of you concentrated.
When you finished, you stepped back, reviewing his work.
"I thought the cat cafe was Tuesday?” you asked simply.
"It is.”
You looked at him.
"So…”
You waved your hand at him.
Frank smirked.
"We can go then too.”
You rolled your eyes.
"You must really like cats.”
“Actually I'm allergic."
You stopped short, slowly turning to face him.
“Then why on earth are you wanting to go to a cat cafe?"
Frank blinked.
It's like he hadn't even thought about it.
He probably hadn't.
"Because…you like cats."
You didn't say anything.
What was there to say?
You kept your head down as you finished adding labels to the shelves.
"So you don't want to go tonight?”
Your head shot up.
He was standing right next to you.
"Not if it's going to make you sick!” you shot back.
Frank waved his hand.
"My eyes just get itchy and my nose runs. I'll just pop a benadryl after.”
You blinked.
Frank was clearly a masochist.
You placed the last label just as your pager went off.
“Jesus Christ," you muttered as you pulled the machine out of your pocket.
You felt your cheeks heat up as you glanced at Frank.
He frowned.
“Another one? When does night shift come in?"
You huffed as you began pulling stuff back off the shelves.
“What night shift?”
You turned back to Frank.
“Guess you’ll have to wait for that benadryl until Tuesday.”
“Can I help?” Frank asked, stepping closer to you.
You sighed, shaking your head.
“No.”
Frank smiled softly.
“Then I’ll wait. What else needs relabeling?”
You narrow your eyes.
“Frank, you got off an hour ago.”
“I know.”
You stared at him for a long moment.
“So go home.”
“You still need a ride.”
You huff, placing the stack on your cart.
“You’re ridiculous, Franklin.”
Frank grinned, tilting his head.
“Ridiculously handsome?” he asked.
Your lip twitched as you nudged your hip against the door.
“This shouldn’t take too long.”
“I’ll be here.”
—
What should have taken only half an hour became an hour.
And then two.
Most of the kids on peds had already had their evening meds.
Your feet dragged as you walked to the time clock. You slid your badge through the machine and dropped the pager off with the charge nurse.
“See you in the morning?” she asked.
You smile and nod.
“Yep. Bright and early!”
You weren't sure you believed yourself.
You carefully straightened your back and set your shoulders. As you head out through the ER waiting room, you make sure to keep your expression light and neutral. You even hand a sticker to a young boy with an ice pack pressed to his knee.
The bus wouldn’t be there for another hour. Maybe you should just walk home. You didn’t live far from the hospital.
You pulled your jacket closer as you stepped outside.
“Hey!”
Your head shot up.
“What are you doing here?” you asked as Frank slid his phone into his pocket.
“I’m taking you home,” he said simply.
Your face fell and you swallowed hard.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been waiting this whole time.”
Frank shrugged.
“I said I would.”
“But that was almost—” you checked your watch. “Three hours ago!”
Frank nodded.
“I’m aware.”
Before you could protest, he gently took your bag.
“You really don’t have to,” you insisted, your hand following his.
“I know that too.”
You huffed as he pulled your bag out of reach.
“Come on,” he said. “Car’s this way.”
You quickly followed after him.
If only to get your bag back.
“Franklin!”
“What’s in this thing? Bricks?” he asked, shifting the bag to his other shoulder.
“Yes,” you shot back. “Which is why you should just let me take the bus.”
Frank adjusted the strap.
“That’s a funny way to say my car,” he continued.
“You’re being ridiculous!” you argued.
Frank stopped in front of a compact SUV.
“No,” he countered. “You’re being ridiculous.”
He pulled open the passenger door, placing your bag on the floorboard.
“Get in the car.”
You looked at him. And then the open door. And then him again.
Your shoulders sag.
“I don’t want to go to the cat cafe,” you finally admitted. “Not tonight.”
“Obviously,” Frank responded. He nodded towards the seat.
“Get in the car,” he repeated.
You sighed as you walked up to him.
You stopped and look up at Frank.
“Are you sure? My roommate can be kind of—”
You paused as Frank said your name, placing his hand on your shoulder.
“Get. In. The. Car.”
You slid in without further protest.
The drive to your apartment was more comfortable than you cared to admit. You always enjoyed talking with Frank at work, but this was different.
“Favorite dinosaur?”
You looked over.
"...Excuse me?"
"Favorite dinosaur."
"Franklin, I get asked that question at least three times a day."
He paused, glancing over at you.
He thought for a second.
“Okay. What’s your favorite rated R movie?”
You felt your lip twitch.
“Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Why?”
The rest of the drive stayed like that.
He asked you questions and somehow, you answered every one without thinking. It was the first conversation you'd had in months that wasn't about work.
“It’s good to see you and Santos finally getting along,” you mentioned as he turned.
Frank smiled softly.
“I know right?” he responded. “I didn’t think we’d ever get to that point.”
You shrugged, picking at the temporary tattoo a patient had lovingly applied earlier that day.
“You two are more alike than you think.”
Frank huffed.
“That’s insulting.”
You shrugged again.
“It shouldn’t be. You’re both good teachers. You care about your patients. You care a lot actually.”
You looked up, surprised to see your apartment complex already ahead.
“I’m down this row,” you said, quietly.
Once Frank pulled to a stop, you hesitated to open the car door.
You sighed, staring at the front porch. Lights pulsed through the blinds and you could already hear the heavy bass from inside the car.
Your roommates were home.
Of course they were home.
“It's not normally like this."
That's not true. It was always like this.
Frank followed your gaze toward the apartment.
“Want me to walk you up?"
“No!"
You said it too quickly, your voice rising in pitching.
You cleared your throat.
“No. That's okay."
You kept your eyes on your apartment. You both watched as the front door opened. One of your roommates stumbled out, lighting a cigarette.
He looks up, grinning when he sees you watching.
“Hey!" he called, stumbling over.
“You finally brought a boyfriend home!"
Your cheeks burned as heat crept up your face.
“Uh…”
You glanced at Frank.
“I guess that's my cue,” you muttered.
You turn to fully face him, doing your best to ignore your roommate who decided the neighbor's bushes were a great place to relieve himself.
You let out a slow breath.
“Thanks for the ride," you said quietly.
“Are you sure you don't…”
You shake your head.
"Trust me,” you promised. "It'll only encourage them.”
Frank's eyes drifted from the porch to yours.
"Does he do that…”
"Often?” you finished.
You nod.
"Unfortunately.”
You looked back out the window.
Your roommate decided not to wait for you.
You turned to look back at Frank.
“I probably should go in now," you said quietly.
You hadn't taken your hand off the door handle.
Frank looked from you to your apartment and you again.
Suddenly, he put his hand on the gear, shifting the car back in reverse.
The car rolled backward.
You blinked.
"What are you doing?” you asked.
Frank glanced at you, a smile tugging on his lips..
"There's this diner up the street. They have amazing hash browns," he answered simply.
“I don't—"
“Like hash browns?" Frank cut in. “Who doesn't like hash browns?"
You opened your mouth. Then closed it.
“I like hash browns."
His grin widened as he pulled out of the complex.
“There we go."
“Frank…”
You glanced at the time.
"We both work tomorrow.”
Frank nodded.
"It's just hash browns.”
You watched as Frank drove back in the direction of the hospital.
You sighed.
“I don't know if I have hash brown money, Franklin," you quietly admitted.
“What even is hash brown money?" he asked.
"It's extra money I don't have?” you tried.
Frank glanced at you.
"And I didn't ask if you had hash brown money.”
You quickly looked away.
“I don't need you to buy me food," you muttered.
“It's not food," he argued. “It's hash browns."
Your lip twitched. You watched as he turned at the light.
“You're not giving me an option, are you?" you finally asked.
“It's just hash browns."
You didn't know how to respond to that.
Your brain was still trying to calculate what would need to be moved around for this to happen.
Maybe you could walk instead of taking the bus in the morning. That would save you two or three bucks.
And then you can grab snacks from the nurses lounge. Patients’ parents were always bringing in thank you cakes. And if you were really desperate you could pull some sandwiches from the ED carts
"So what are your favorite toppings?”
You looked over as Frank pulled you from your thoughts.
You looked down, not even realizing you'd been counting on your fingers.
"What?”
“Hash browns. What's your favorite toppings?" Frank repeated.
You furrowed your eyebrows.
"Hash browns can have toppings?”
Frank shrugged.
"Well, yeah. You can't go wrong with cheese, but personally I like to get it topped with chili and onions.”
"Like a hot dog?”
That didn't sound appetizing at all.
Frank nodded.
“Or you can't go wrong with the classic. Get a breakfast plate."
He looked at you.
"Get fried eggs, bacon or sausage, and hash browns. Mix it all together.”
He clapped his hands.
"Boom. Best late night study meal ever.”
“My go to was cereal," you decided. "Or ramen. Anything that didn't require additional brain power.”
“For sure," Frank replied.
You both paused as he pulled into the diner parking lot.
You were about to open your door when Frank quickly locked it.
He held his arm out in front of you, pushing you back.
"No. Wait here.”
Before you could argue, he got out, jogging around to your side.
He opened your door with a flourish.
You raised an eyebrow.
"Chivalry ain't dead yet,” he exclaimed, holding his hand out for you.
“I suppose it isn't."
You took his hand, letting him help you out.
The diner was about as you'd expected.
Red booths, a counter, red stools. A display case full of pies and cakes. Rockabilly music flowed out of a jukebox in the corner.
You waved at a few of the day shift nurses, sitting in the back.
Soon you and Frank found yourself at the bar, shoulders touching as you shared a menu.
"Did you pick this place because it has a first responder discount?” you asked, eyeing the fine print at the bottom.
Frank shrugged.
"Not the only reason. But it helps.”
A waitress came up, placing coffee mugs in front of them.
"What can I get you two?”
"Actually,” Frank started. “Can we get a chocolate milkshake?"
The waitress and you both raised your eyebrows.
"Franklin…”
“Just one?" she questioned.
Frank nodded and held up two fingers.
"With two straws.”
He winked at you as the waitress walked off.
"So not just hashbrowns?” you realized.
Frank shrugged, his knee bumping against yours.
"A milkshake is part of the equation.”
"That's not how math works, Franklin.”
You glanced down at the menu.
"And what if I didn't like milkshakes?”
Frank looked at you pointedly.
"Those frappuchinos you get once a month might as well be milkshakes.”
“Once a month is a specific detail," you commented. “Do you remember this much about your other coworkers?”
Frank shrugged.
“One chocolate milkshake, two straws, extra cherries, for the lovebirds."
You looked up as the waitress set the glass in front of you.
“Know what you want to order?"
Frank leaned back, stretching his arm over the back of your chair.
"Order what you want.”
You glanced at him.
"Hashbrowns.”
Frank grinned.
"I'll do the same.”
The waitress nodded, jotting it down. "Just hashbrowns?”
You looked back at the menu then back at Frank.
"Can I do mine with cheese?”
You nudged him with your elbow, a small smile tugging on your lips.
Frank's grin widened.
—
It was too soon when Frank drove you back to your apartment. You sighed, leaning back in the seat. You glanced down at Frank's hand in yours. You weren't sure when that happened.
“Want me to pick you up in the morning?"
You looked over at Frank's.
“You don't have to."
Frank shrugged, his thumb brushing over your wrist.
He looked at your hands, then your apartment.
Lights still pulsed through the blinds, the bass still thumped.
The only difference was the parking lot now reeked of weed.
Finally, he looked back at you.
"So..."
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Meet you here at 6:30?”