Work Text:
Winter mornings take a little extra time. Extra socks too. Each morning Mel swaps her wool lined socks with patterned work ones as she swaps snow boots for running shoes. She overheats easy indoors and chills quickly outdoors, she explains with a shrug when Langdon points to the stack of colourful crew socks in her locker.
The next morning, same routine as usual, except she finds him leaning on her locker, waiting. Casual lean, same as always. Mel likes that about him—everything is water off his back, everything is always fine—it calms something in her as well.
He brightens when she approaches. Warm and intense. It's like the city was never snowy in the first place.
When she goes to shed her winter wear, he takes over. Unzipping her coat, slipping it off her shoulder, untying her scarf, taking off her sweater, and unwrapping the layers as he's catching her up on the night shift's craziest cases.
Her boots come off and he slips the thick socks off to swap them for indoor ones. Today's socks are brighter than yesterday's. Beige with little Jack-o-lanterns. It gets a chuckle out of him. Y'know, I got my kids the same pair last year.
On his way up, he sneaks a kiss on her belly. Faint and fleeting. Still enough to catch her by surprise. The next one is a peck on her nose, then a final one on her lips.
For a moment, they stand there shielded by the wall separating the lockers and the ER floor. Anybody can see if they tilt their head, or use the wrong elevator. Some part of her wants them to. Mel wants others to hear his words soften in her orbit.
Now c'mon, Pumpkin. We gotta call dibs on that MVC before Santos.