Work Text:
The email had said MANDATORY three times.
Mel had still almost ignored it.
Not because she didn't take workplace conduct seriously.
Mostly because she had assumed it would be two hours of someone from administration reading directly from a PowerPoint about not sexually harassing her coworkers.
Which, as far as Mel was concerned, was fairly easy.
Don't harass people, don't be creepy, don't make unwanted advances.
Simple.
Still, she walked into the conference room with her coffee, found an empty seat, and pulled out her notebook.
Langdon dropped into the chair beside her thirty seconds later.
She looked at him.
"You came."
"I was promised breakfast."
"You were not promised breakfast."
"There are pastries."
"That's not breakfast."
He looked toward the back of the room.
"That's breakfast."
Mel smiled.
"You're impossible."
"You love me."
The words came out so naturally that neither of them reacted.
Langdon reached across for her pastry.
Mel continued arranging her notebook.
Neither noticed Garcia watching them from three rows away.
She leaned toward Santos.
"He does it without even thinking, and it's like she doesn't even notice."
Santos glanced over.
Langdon had stolen Mel's coffee.
Mel took it back from him without even looking.
"That's because he's been doing it forever."
Garcia smiled, holding back her laughter.
"She's just as bad, if not worse."
The facilitator stepped to the front.
"Good morning, everyone. Thank you for attending this year's professional conduct and workplace boundaries seminar."
Langdon leaned toward Mel.
"Do you think they know we hate these?"
"Everybody hates these. They are mostly pointless, just a formality."
"You complained for three days."
"That was different."
Mel smiled.
The seminar had finally started, and for the first twenty minutes, it was exactly what she'd expected.
Definitions.
Reporting procedures.
Retaliation.
Hostile work environments.
The difference between intent and impact.
Mel took notes anyway; she felt she had a great grasp on these concepts. It was important she retain all important information in front of hospital administration.
Langdon didn't seem to care as much about his image, as he was pretty familiar with PTMC admin on a personal level.
He leaned over every few minutes to whisper something in her ear.
At one point, he nudged her notebook.
"You spelled harassment wrong."
She looked down.
"I did not."
"You did."
She looked.
She hadn't.
She elbowed him.
He smiled.
"Got you."
She shook her head.
Then the facilitator clicked to a new slide.
WHEN PROFESSIONAL FRIENDSHIPS BECOME OVERLY FAMILIAR
"Friendships between coworkers are normal," the facilitator said. "Close friendships are normal. However, there are circumstances in which the nature of that friendship may begin to blur professional boundaries."
Mel glanced at Langdon.
He was listening now.
The first bullet appeared.
Frequent use of personal nicknames or terms of endearment.
Mel's eyes lingered on it.
Langdon noticed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You looked at me."
"I looked at the slide."
"Oh, really, why?"
"So I can read it."
He smiled.
The next bullet appeared.
Comments that could reasonably be interpreted as flirtatious.
Mel's eyebrows lifted.
Langdon shrugged.
"That's subjective."
The facilitator continued.
"Examples can include comments about appearance, attractiveness, romantic availability, or language that implies affection."
The next slide appeared.
Examples:
"You look beautiful today."
"You're adorable when you're nervous."
"Good job, honey."
"Baby, you've got this."
"That's my girl."
"If we weren't coworkers..."
The room went quiet.
Mel stopped writing.
Slowly, she turned her head.
Langdon was staring at the screen.
His expression had changed.
Not embarrassed.
Just... thoughtful.
Mel whispered, "Frank."
"Hm?"
"You do all of those."
He glanced at her.
"I don't say the last one."
"That's not the point."
"I've said the others."
"Yes."
"You don't mind."
She hesitated.
"No."
His expression softened.
"Then what's the problem?"
Mel looked back at the screen.
"I don't know."
The facilitator continued.
"Even when a comment is intended as encouragement, repeated use of intimate language can be perceived differently by others."
Mel's cheeks warmed.
Because she could remember every single one.
Langdon after she'd nailed a difficult procedure:
That's my girl.
Langdon during a particularly brutal trauma:
Come on, baby. You've got this.
Langdon after she'd pulled off a save everyone had thought impossible:
You did so great, honey.
And every time, she'd felt that little flutter in her chest.
Every time, she'd pretended it was because he was her best friend.
The next slide appeared.
PHYSICAL CONTACT
Mel immediately sat straighter.
The first example appeared.
Touching a coworker's waist or lower back.
She looked at Langdon.
He looked at her.
Neither said anything.
Next.
Brushing hair away from a coworker's face.
Mel's cheeks went pink.
Next.
Standing directly behind a coworker while they work when other positions are available.
She closed her eyes.
Langdon whispered, "Okay."
"What?"
"That one is stupid."
"Why?"
"Because there's only one good computer in the charting area."
"There are four computers."
"Three of them are terrible."
Mel stared at him.
He stared back.
Then the facilitator clicked again.
Standing behind a coworker, arms around them, while reviewing documentation.
Mel's face went hot.
Langdon leaned back.
"That is oddly specific."
Mel whispered, "We've done that."
"Yeah."
"Multiple times."
"Because it's easier to see the chart at the same time that way."
"You were practically wrapped around me."
"You were using the keyboard."
"So?"
"So I needed to see."
Mel looked at him.
"You could have stood beside me."
"I couldn't see."
"You were touching me."
"I know."
He said it so casually that Mel's heart skipped.
She looked back at the screen.
The next example appeared.
Sitting on a coworker's lap because other seating is unavailable.
Mel's head snapped around.
Langdon looked at her.
"You've done that."
"Frank."
"What?"
"You cannot say that."
"Why, you're pointing out the stuff I do?"
She looked around the room.
Everyone was pretending very hard not to look at them.
Mel lowered her voice.
"Because I think this is about us."
Langdon immediately shook his head.
"No."
She stared at him.
"Frank."
"No."
"They just put me sitting on your lap on the PowerPoint."
"That's happened once."
"Twice."
"Okay. Twice."
"And there were chairs."
"There weren't enough."
"There were."
"Not comfortable ones."
She stared at him.
He shrugged.
"It was fine."
Mel covered her face.
Across the room, Garcia silently mouthed to Santos:
Oh my God.
Santos nodded.
The facilitator clicked again.
SHARING FOOD, DRINKS, OR PERSONAL ITEMS
Mel lowered her head into her hands for a second.
Langdon was already drinking from her coffee.
She looked at the cup.
Then at him.
He noticed.
"What?"
"That's my coffee."
"You weren't drinking it."
"I was."
"You're holding it."
"I was about to."
He handed it back.
"Sorry."
Mel took it.
Their fingers brushed.
Neither moved away immediately.
The facilitator continued.
"Again, these behaviors are not automatically misconduct. Context matters. The issue arises when behavior becomes exclusive, intimate, or reasonably perceived as romantic."
Mel swallowed.
Romantic.
She looked at Langdon.
He was looking at her.
For one strange second, neither of them smiled because that word was different.
Romantic.
They had spent a year carefully refusing to use it.
They had feelings.
Obviously.
They both knew they had feelings.
They just didn't talk about them.
Because talking about them would mean changing something.
And neither of them was willing to risk the friendship that had become the most important relationship either of them had.
So they called it friendship.
Best friends.
Partners.
Work husband.
Work wife.
Anything but what it actually was.
The facilitator clicked again.
HOW RELATIONSHIPS MAY APPEAR TO OTHERS
"Sometimes," she said, "the people involved do not recognize that their behavior appears romantic or sexually suggestive because the behavior feels normal to them."
Mel's stomach dropped.
She looked at Langdon.
He was staring at the screen.
The facilitator continued.
"They may believe that because both individuals are comfortable, the behavior cannot be perceived as inappropriate."
Mel slowly looked around the room.
People were looking at them.
Not everyone.
But enough.
Garcia.
Santos.
Several residents.
One of the nurses was actually trying not to laugh.
Mel's face went bright red.
"Oh my God."
Langdon looked at her.
"What?"
She whispered, "They all know."
He looked around.
"What?"
"This is why we're here."
He stared at her.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Frank."
He looked toward Garcia.
She immediately looked away.
He looked toward Santos.
She did not.
Santos raised her eyebrows at him knowingly.
He looked back at Mel.
"That's insane."
Mel gave a tiny, embarrassed laugh.
"They put an entire seminar together because of us."
"We haven't done anything wrong, Mel."
"I know."
"We're friends."
"I know."
"We're allowed to be close."
"I know."
"We've always been like this."
Mel's expression softened.
"That's not exactly true."
He looked at her.
She swallowed.
"We've always been like this with each other."
Something in his face changed.
Because she was right.
He didn't call Garcia honey or fix Mkay's collar. He didn't sleep on anyone else's shoulder or bring anybody else their coffee exactly how they liked it. He didn't stand behind anyone else at a computer with his arms around them. He didn't tell anyone else that's my girl.
And Mel didn't do those things with anyone else either.
Their closeness wasn't simply who they were.
It was who they were with each other.
The facilitator clicked to the next slide.
WOULD YOU BEHAVE THIS WAY WITH ANOTHER COWORKER?
Mel stared at the question.
Then at Langdon.
"No," she whispered.
He looked at her.
"No."
The answer came easily.
Neither of them tried to pretend otherwise.
Mel's chest felt strangely tight.
"We've blurred the line."
Langdon was quiet.
She looked at him.
"Frank?"
He stared at the screen.
"Yeah."
Her voice was softer.
"Does that bother you?"
He turned toward her.
"No."
She blinked.
"Really?"
"No."
He held her gaze.
"I don't care what they think."
"But—"
"I don't."
"Everyone thinks we're—"
"I know."
She lowered her voice.
"They think we're together."
He shrugged.
"Let them."
Mel stared at him.
"That doesn't bother you?"
"No."
"Why?"
For one second, she thought he might answer.
With a joke or some easy explanation, but not with the truth.
Instead, he smiled.
"Because I know what you mean to me."
Mel's breath caught.
He looked back toward the screen.
"And whatever everybody else thinks doesn't change that."
She stared at him.
There was something painfully tender about the way he'd said it.
Something that sounded dangerously close to a confession without actually being one.
Mel looked down.
"Maybe we should be more careful."
He immediately shook his head.
"No."
She looked up.
"We probably should."
"Why?"
"Because people are uncomfortable."
"Then they can tell us."
"They clearly are."
"They complained to HR."
"Exactly."
He shrugged.
"I don't care."
Mel smiled faintly.
"You really don't."
"No."
"What if they think we're dating?"
"Then they think we're dating. I couldn't think of a better compliment"
"What if they think we're inappropriate?"
"They're wrong."
"What if they're not?"
He looked at her.
That stopped her.
For a second, neither spoke.
Then Langdon smiled.
"Are we?"
Mel's cheeks turned pink.
"I don't know...I don't think so"
He leaned closer.
"Neither do I."
The facilitator clicked again.
ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN COWORKERS
Mel immediately looked at the screen. Her face seemed to get pinker and pinker as the slides came on.
"Oh."
Langdon laughed quietly.
"Yeah."
The facilitator began discussing disclosure policies and conflicts of interest.
Mel listened.
Langdon didn't.
He was watching her.
She could feel it.
Finally, she whispered, "Stop looking at me."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I like looking at you."
Her heart jumped.
She turned toward him.
He seemed to realize what he'd said.
Neither corrected it.
The intercom suddenly crackled.
"Dr. King and Dr. Langdon, please report to the emergency department."
Mel practically launched herself out of her chair.
"Thank God."
Langdon stood.
The facilitator looked toward them.
"Actually, if this is not a true emergency, I would strongly encourage you both to stay."
Mel froze.
The entire room was watching.
"We have to go."
"We're about to begin the section on romantic relationships between coworkers."
Mel's face went scarlet.
Langdon looked amused.
The facilitator smiled.
"I think you might find it particularly useful."
A few people laughed.
Mel wanted to disappear.
"It really is an emergency."
"Of course."
Mel grabbed her bag.
Langdon waited for her.
As they headed toward the door, Garcia whispered loudly enough for them to hear:
"Don't worry, guys. We're all very clear on the boundaries now."
Mel groaned.
"Oh my God."
Langdon laughed.
Santos called after them.
"Try not to cuddle while you're saving someone's life!"
Mel covered her face.
"Please stop."
Langdon opened the door for her.
"Come on, honey."
The room erupted.
Mel stopped dead.
She turned slowly.
Langdon looked completely unbothered.
"What?"
She stared at him.
"You just—"
"What?"
She pointed helplessly toward the slideshow.
He looked at the screen.
Then back at her.
"Oh."
Garcia was crying with laughter.
Santos had her head on the table.
The facilitator closed her eyes.
Mel whispered, "You are proving their point."
Langdon smiled.
"Don't care."
And he put a hand at the small of her back to guide her out.
Mel felt every pair of eyes in the room follow them.
Once the door shut behind them, she burst out laughing.
Langdon laughed too.
They walked down the hallway together.
For a moment, neither said anything.
Then Mel looked at him.
"So."
"So."
"We're apparently not very good at pretending we're just friends."
Langdon glanced at her.
"No."
She smiled.
"Maybe we've never been very good at it."
He looked at her for a long moment.
"No."
And this time, neither of them laughed.
Because they both knew what he meant.
Maybe they had never actually been pretending very well at all.