Archive of Our Own

Dr. Melissa King's feet pounded up the stairwell, the sound of her steps echoing off the walls with her labored breaths. She was a seasoned runner, an expert stair climber, and could lift 150 pounds on a good day with the right squat form. She was a very fit individual by most standards. But tonight, as she raced to the roof, her knees felt shaky, her calves ached, and her limbs were overcome with a general heaviness she couldn't explain. Which is how she found herself pausing, hand resting on her hip as she bent over to catch her breath at each landing, the whole way up. Each time she made it to the next floor, she considered turning around, but then, with startling clarity, it all came rushing back.

It was Christmas Eve, and she had kissed Dr. Frank Langdon.

She felt a mess as her shoulder hit the door with a groan. It swung open with a loud thunk and she stepped out into the crisp night air, exhaling in relief. She rolled her shoulders back at the feeling of the cold and instantly folded her hands into her armpits while stepping toward the railing. For the first time since she'd started hyperventilating, she was able to take in a deep breath.

She'd kissed Frank. Why on God's green earth had she kissed him? It was something she was struggling to come to terms with. For all her experience in 29 years of being alive on this earth, she'd never been the one to kiss first.

Her very first kiss had been a chaste affair in middle school at Molly Sommers' co-ed birthday party after five rounds of spin the bottle in the dead of winter break. When she'd spun, it landed on Stephen Hurst. A beefy sort of jock, even for fourteen, still long in the knees from an unbalanced growth spurt. The kind of kid whose parents had him in every recreational sport but would go on to excel in football when they transitioned to high school. He'd blow out his knee senior year and miss his chances to play for USC, but on that particular night, it had been her and him locked in Molly's basement closet for ten minutes of heaven. All of their mutual friends giggled outside as they passed around the fuzzy navel wine coolers that had been pilfered from Molly's parents' basement fridge.

Stephen had stayed by the door staring blankly at her for a solid five minutes after they both heard the click of the lock. "We can just say you did and... you know... not." Mel had stuttered and pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose nervously.

He blushed at her words, and his shoulders dropped, "I think I might be gay." She stood up straight, eyes going wide as she crashed backwards into the shoe boxes behind her filled with family photos. He dropped his head into his hands and sighed, "Please don't tell anyone I said that."

She frowned.

"And-" he stuttered, "It's not because I don't think you're pretty."

"Oh." She took a step forward, cringing when one of the boxes spilled unceremoniously on the floor. She immediately bent down to clean up the mess as their friends hooted outside at the raucous noises coming from inside the closet.

Stephen knelt to help her collect the photos, his hand pausing at one in particular that was very unbecoming. "It's just," he looked up at Mel. "I've never- I think-"

Her hand joined his in reassurance on the picture. "It's okay." She responded brightly. "No hard feelings. And you don't need to worry. Your secret is safe with me." She held up the photo and laughed, "And if Molly ever tries to question that- or if we made out tonight in this closet..." her eyes filled with humor. "You can just whip this little ol' picture out as a- mmmf!" And suddenly she tasted Dr. Pepper on her lips.

Stephen leaned back quickly and blushed.

Mel brought a hand to her lips.

"Just needed to be sure." He mumbled while quickly shoving the photos back into the box and standing. He held out a hand to her.

"And?" she asked, heart speeding up a little as she took his hand and stood, their eyes meeting.

He placed the box on the shelf behind her and shook his head.

She smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder, "It was a lovely first kiss. Thank you."

They'd parted ways amicably after, with no shortage of subtle staring throughout the rest of the evening. Later that night, as she was leaving through the back yard to access her home catty-corner through the fence, she stumbled upon Molly on her knees in the dead grass, giving him a blow job against the side of her house. "Happy birthday to Molly, I guess." She'd whispered to herself.

She arrived home to an eager Becca, sitting crisscross applesauce on her still-made bed at 11 PM, a stuffed Kirby hugged tightly to her chest, "Please! Tell me all about it."

Mel shrugged, "You can't tell anyone." She dug around in her pocket for the picture of Molly she'd lifted from the closet floor.

Becca ripped the photo from her hands, "What!" She squinted at the photo. "Ew, where did you get this?" Becca frowned and handed the photo back.

Mel plopped down on her bed with a laugh, "It fell out of a box after I got stuck in a closet with Stephen Hurst." She fell back on her duvet and stared at the ceiling, smirking as she listened to the sound of Becca squealing into her Kirby. There was movement across the room as Becca's bedsprings clanged and popped. She heard a run, then a jump, and just as suddenly, Becca landed squarely next to Mel, both sisters bursting into giggles.

"You kissed? What was it like? Was he polite? Was it romantic?" she rambled. For all her 'inefficiencies' as their father liked to call it, Becca understood perfectly what romance and kissing and falling in love meant. There were plenty of movies and cartoons that showed both sisters the way on that.

Mel huffed and turned onto her elbow. "It was. Strange.

Becca looked at her wide-eyed with concern, "Strange?"

Mel nodded and flopped onto her back again, hands resting against her stomach as she thought about the whole ordeal. "I just think maybe we make too much of it. He called me pretty. But-"

"But what?"

The kiss hadn't been much of anything, confirming for Mel that she'd much prefer the taste of cherry Chapstick to Dr. Pepper if she were ever kissed again. But that was something she decided to keep to herself. "He just wasn't the right flavor," she admitted.

"Boys don't have flavors." Becca frowned.

"Hmm... I think everyone has a flavor. I have a flavor. You have a flavor. And someday you'll meet someone whose flavor goes perfectly with yours. And it'll be-”

"The right flavor."

Mel turned her head and smiled, "Exactly, Becs."

"Like mom and dad. Their flavors go perfectly."

"Yup... just right."

Becca rolled onto her back, mirroring Mel, and sighed, "What flavor do you think I am?"

Mel giggled, "tough, but you're soft, I think... like cotton candy, but spicy like a jalapeno sometimes."

"You know I hate spicy food."

"Just because you're spicy sometimes doesn't mean you have to like spicy food."

"Well then, you're sauerkraut." She huffed and clutched her stuffie even tighter.

"Yeah, I know. Nobody likes sauerkraut." Mel blanched. Stephen hadn't liked her; he'd made an almost sour face after the kiss, something she'd read as aloof and uninterested. But maybe, if he actually did like girls, Becca wasn't wrong. Maybe Mel was too pungent. Too salty and sour. Too different. Someone who needed more time to mature into the right flavor. Better on her own, perhaps.

"That's not true. Grandma does." Becca stated.

Mel rolled her eyes and laughed. "Well, good. At least grandma likes me then."

Becca stood from Mel's bed, "Could you braid my hair like yours?" she asked.

Mel sat up halfway on her elbows and smiled, "Of course." She pulled her legs up onto the bed and patted the space in front of her legs, directing Becca to take a seat on the floor. She reached for the brush and two hair bands on the nightstand. "Twin braids okay?"

"Yes, Twins... like us. And French, please." Becca requested.

"French, very classy."

"Maybe next time you'll get to French kiss."

The idea of someone else's tongue in her mouth seemed absolutely appalling. And it made her remember catching Molly with Stephen for a moment, and her stomach turned at the thought of doing THAT. No. "Uh, sure. I'll let you know when." She lied and then proceeded to braid her sister's hair, more certain now than ever that she wouldn't find someone to match her flavor.

Twelve years later, her second kiss happened at the age of twenty-six as she sat on the back stoop of the restaurant where she was a hostess. It was common for the regular evening staff to gather for fresh air behind the restaurant, a popular establishment that served what could only be considered Greek midwestern fare. The owners were nice, the manager was tolerable, and Mel was just trying to make enough money for her and Becca to pay the bills and the rent for their shared one-bedroom while she figured out how to finish med school.

"You look kind of sad tonight," a deep voice spoke from behind her as she re-braided her hair. A self-soothing habit. "Horatio hitting on you again?"

Mel blushed and turned to the handsome twenty-one-year-old bartender. She'd caught him watching her from the bar a time or two, but they hadn't chatted often or interacted much outside of her bringing patrons to the bar if the seating was full. "Oh uh... no, he's just-" she waved him off as she pulled out her phone.

"Who's that?" he asked, taking a seat next to her on part of the stoop.

"Uh, that's Becca, she's my sister."

"She's pretty," he commented. She recognized his insincerity immediately, but she was willing to forgive it for the attention so rarely given to her.

"Yeah, she's cool... we're twins, so... she's my best friend." She closed her phone and set it between them and gave him a shy smile.

"Can I kiss you?"

"OH-" and without so much as a reply of consent, he leaned in and gave Mel her second kiss, which would eventually lead to her losing her virginity in the back seat of his Corolla an hour after closing. He was fine, and Mel needed the release. She needed to not feel the anxiety of holding everything together for just one moment while he had his head between her legs. She enjoyed feeling so desired, even if she knew that when she showed up for her shift next Wednesday, she’d find him actively making out behind the restaurant with the new eighteen-year-old waitress in training. It pained her a little to see him so freely moving on to someone else. But then again, he'd tasted like ash and sour root beer. Flavors that, at the time, Mel had been willing to ignore because she needed a distraction. She was tired of feeling lonely, and she was tired of waiting for the right person to appear.

When she'd arrived home the night of losing her virginity, Becca had scowled, "You smell like cigarette smoke and puke."

"Yeah, I know." Mel sighed and flopped down next to her sister on the 1970s brown and orange floral monstrosity they'd found at the second-hand store a few weeks before.

"You didn't smoke, did you?" She grilled her sister.

Mel scoffed, "No."

"Good," her sister stated, then squinted, eyes zeroing in on the hickey just above Mel's collarbone. "What is that?"

Mel squinched her nose in confusion, trying to look at the blemish in question. "I can't-"

"A hickey?" Because, of course, Becca knew what it was. They'd grown up on the same feast of TV shows and movies, she understood what a hickey was and what it meant. Mel closed her eyes and found herself slinking further into the couch, the springs groaning as she tried to hide herself within the cushions. "Did you French kiss a boy at work?"

Her cheeks warmed at the accusation. "Yes."

Becca squealed in excitement and paused Elf right at the pivotal turning point where Buddy was trying to rally the cheers and singing of the New Yorkers in order to get Santa's sleigh to fly. She crossed her legs, heaving them up onto the couch, and turned toward Mel. "Tell me everything!"

Mel sat up, exhaustion creeping into her bones as she did her best to rally after the exertion in the bartender's car, "Well, his name is-" she paused, realizing for the first time that she didn't even remember his name. Taylor or Tyler, maybe? Or was it Devin? Devin sounded nothing like Taylor or Tyler. Was it Luke? Oh fuck, she groaned inwardly. "He's the bartender at work."

"Is he Greek?"

Mel chuckled, "No."

"Is he cute?"

"Yes."

"Is he a good French kisser?"

"Very adept, yes." Mel disclosed, a deep crimson climbing to the peak of her cheeks at the memory of him making her orgasm with his mouth... and then again with his-

"Better than Stephen Hurst?"

"Stephen Hurst?" Mel laughed.

"Your first kiss."

"Right."

"Well? Was it better?"

"Much." Mel conceded with a bloom of color engulfing her ears.

"Was he the right flavor this time? Will you see him again?" she asked excitedly.

"Well-" she winced.

"Was he nice?"

"He saw your picture on my phone, and he said you were pretty. So I'd consider that nice."

She squealed and held her hands up to cradle her face in elation. "Oh! Do I get to meet him?"

Mel glanced at the time on the wall. 11:55 pm. She had class at 7 AM. "It's pretty late, and I have an early class. We should go to bed."

Becca groaned, "We haven't finished Elf, and you haven't told me about the French kiss."

"I said he was nice. And that should be enough. C'mon..." She stood, offering a hand to her sister. Becca harrumphed and crossed her arms while frowning and flopping back into the couch cushions. "I don't understand why you're so upset." Mel chastised her sister as she stood and padded to the small kitchenette behind the couch.

"We tell each other everything always, remember?"

Mel sighed deeply, "I know Becca."

"So why won't you tell me about the French kiss?" Becca got like this on occasion if the thing she most wanted wasn't given to her in the exact way she imagined it. It was more manageable when they were children with her parents around to help her self-regulate. But now that they were just the two of them, it was harder. Mel lacked the framework to understand the hyper-fixations and the frustrations that followed with unmet needs.

"Because... we didn't just french kiss and sometimes-"

Becca gasped, "Did you have French sex?"

"Becca-" Mel busied herself with preparing their nighttime medications and supplements along with their glasses of water. What would one even consider French sex? She wondered before stating, "That's kind of private information."

"When Natasha comes here to help me get to the day center in the mornings, she has hickey's on her neck. One time, I asked her why she had a hickey, and she told me it's because she got laid by her big beefy boyfriend Alfonso, but he prefers to be called Alfie." Becca giggled. "She said he was really good at laying pipe. I told her someone who likes to be called Alfie doesn't sound like a very good plumber."

Mel groaned and tried to stifle a laugh, "I guess I need to have a talk with Natasha."

Becca turned and leaned against the back of the couch to watch Mel move around the kitchen. "Was it good?"

"What?" Mel huffed as she began filling their water glasses for bed.

"The sex."

"Becca!" She hit her hand down on the tap to stop the water.

"Well...Was it?"

Mel rolled her eyes and returned to the living room to hand her sister her pills and water, "You're being a little intrusive."

"It wasn't?" Becca smiled deviously.

"Becca." Mel glared in warning.

"Just tell me!"

Mel huffed and threw her hands up in resignation. "Fine!" she exclaimed and sat down on the couch. "What do you want to know?"

"Is it like in movies or Tv shows? Did he tell you he loved you after?"

Mel cocked her head to the side and thought for a moment. "No, not really. He didn't wait for me to say yes before he kissed me. And then after work, he walked me to my car and kissed me again."

"A little romantic. Was the moon out?"

"I-" she thought back to earlier in the night and couldn't recall, "I don't believe so?"

"Okay, not as romantic," Becca commented.

"Then we started kissing more, and I liked it, it felt really good, and then we went to his car, and we made out for a little bit in the back seat and-"

"Hmm... that's not very romantic." Her sister frowned.

"No, it's not. And he's a little younger than us. Very agreeable kisser. But I don't think he'd fit in very well with our lives."

"What did you do in the back seat?"

"Becca." She glared.

"Melissa." She countered.

"We... " she motioned, her hand fluttering into an imaginary breeze.

"Gross," she stated, and then she remembered, "But he thought I was pretty."

"Yes, he did," Mel said, eyes softening at how pleased her sister was to repeat the words.

"Will you go out with him now?"

Mel shook her head. "I think it was just a one-time thing. Sometimes that's all it is," she shrugged.

"I wish you'd find a real boyfriend," Becca said wistfully.

"It's okay, right now I don't really have time between school and taking care of both of us." She reached out and rubbed Becca's arm soothingly, releasing a big yawn as the endorphins released earlier wore off.

"You need someone to take care of you the way you take care of me."

Mel smiled softly. Becca was right, but it would have to wait. "Someday," she yawned again.

"Someday, the right flavor is going to be a best friend who tastes like hot chocolate and candy canes," Becca exclaimed as she stood, her elf blanket falling to the floor with a soft thud. “And I’m sure he’ll love the taste of sauerkruat.”

Mel leaned over tiredly to pick up and fold it. It was a sweet sentiment. "Hmm... that sounds nice. I hope he does."

Her third kiss came a year later, during rotations, after finding herself alone with one of the peds nurses in the supply closet at work. Her name was Lucy. And on one particular day, Mel found out she had been accidentally flirting with her for the entire rotation.

"So," Lucy said, shutting the door behind her as Mel reached for a box of masks and gloves to take to the central station on the floor.

"Oh, hey Nurse Lucy." She said brightly as she turned back to reach for another box. "Do you think we need a box of the-"

"Mel."

"Yes?" she asked, turning around.

Lucy held a dark, seductive look in her eyes as she leaned against the door, her bottom lip between her teeth. "I really like you."

Alarms blared in Mel's mind at the look on her face and the tone of her voice. "Um... yeah, I like you too. You make working here really nice. It's so nice finally having a friend around here." She'd thought they'd become good friends during this rotation, the same age, different sides of the same coin, same music tastes, and the same coffee order. Lucy had even taken to bringing Mel a coffee when their shifts aligned. And even though Mel had insisted on paying her back, Lucy had insisted on not accepting the offer.

"A friend?" Lucy's eyes widened. "Oh."

"Is that? Did I read that wrong? I thought we were becoming really good friends." Mel stammered, stepping toward the other woman.

"Oh sure yeah I mean... I just," she pushed off the door and kissed Mel firmly on the lips, letting her hands cradle Mel's face gently.

Mel, curious about the taste of pineapple mango with a hint of vanilla, kissed Lucy back. It was soft and sweet. And Lucy's lips moved tenderly against her own as Mel's mind wandered through the possibility of whether or not she could see herself with someone like Lucy. Lucy was kind to Becca, had joined them for breakfast on more than one occasion when their off days had aligned. And Becca found Lucy to be funny and charming. It could work.

Mel pulled back from the kiss suddenly, eyes flaring as she weighed her options. It wasn't that Lucy wasn't wonderful. She'd make a wonderful girlfriend, partner, maybe even a lover. But Mel didn't much care for the thought of sex with her or anyone, for that matter. It was something, after her first time with the bartender, that had really got her thinking about the spectrum of sexuality and where she might sit on the Kinsey scale. She frowned. "I-" she swallowed, unable to finish her thought.

Lucy breathed heavily in front of her, a wry smile on her face, "Maybe don't worry about saying anything just yet." She leaned in again and sucked on Mel's bottom lip.

Mel gave in and kissed her in return, enjoying the feeling of their connection in this space and time, but not necessarily feeling turned on at the idea of them together. "Lucy." She exhaled and pulled away again.

"Yes," the other woman hummed in pleasure, eyes roaming over Mel's flushed appearance. "You're beautiful, Mel. Do you know that?" She leaned in to begin kissing her again.

"Wait." Mel placed her hand against Lucy's chest, feeling her friend's heart beating rapidly as she pushed her away. "I'm-" her voice shook with nervousness, worry clouding her vision suddenly, "I really do like you, Lucy."

Lucy bit her lip and her eyes filled with embarrassment as she stepped away. "I misread this."

Mel died a little inside at the tone of her voice, "I'm just not-"

"You've been flirting with me for weeks, you know. Our breakfast dates with your sister?"

"Dates?" Mel frowned in confusion.

"Me bringing you your favorite coffee order? Always carrying around your favorite snack bars?" Lucy let out a sharp, defeated laugh and shook her head, "My god... I'm so stupid." She turned, her hand reaching for the handle on the door.

"Wait! No... I... I thought we were just friends. I've never- I haven't had a good friend in so long, and I- I don't feel things the same way other people do. I'm not- I don't think I'm wired like that."

The brunette with green eyes and pink, soft pineapple-flavored lips nodded and turned her eyes downward, "It's fine. It never would've worked anyway with your sister around, taking up all your time." She opened the closet door and left Mel to spiral in utter shock and horror.

It was a low blow to blame Becca. Beautiful, pure, and loving Becca, who had enjoyed hanging out with Lucy and had even taken to calling the woman her new best friend. Later that evening, when Mel arrived home, Becca had asked about their standing breakfast date with Lucy. Lucy, who had blocked Mel from messaging or texting her just moments after she'd stepped out of the supply closet. "Sorry, Becs, she's-" She sighed, suddenly overwhelmed at the loss of someone who had seemed on the outside to be interested in being friends, now rejecting her. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Why are you crying?"

Mel sniffed, "I'm fine. Lucy's not going to be joining us for breakfast anymore." Her chin wobbled as she stood and made her way to the kitchen, clutching her hand to her chest as her heart filled with despair at the loss. Just one more loss to add to the tally.

"Mel?" Becca called, suddenly appearing in the doorway to the galley kitchen.

"Why do I feel like my heart is breaking?" she asked her sister.

Becca frowned, "What happened?"

"Lucy wanted to be more than friends. And..." Mel spoke through tears. "I thought I'd made a best friend. Like you are with all of your friends at the center. But she thought I liked her more than that."

"Oh."

"It's stupid, really." Mel sniffed, wiping at the snot under her nose and the tears still streaming down her cheeks. She hiccuped and reached into the freezer for a pint of ice cream and plopped it onto the counter. She rifled around in the utensil drawer and pulled out two spoons. "Wanna share?"

Becca frowned and looked as though she too wanted to cry. "You're so sad."

"I didn't know-" Mel walked into the living room, sat on the couch, and dug her spoon into the tub of Neopolitan ice cream. Not her favorite. But they were on a budget. "And I just ruined everything."

"What didn't you know?" Becca asked, taking the second spoon and shoving it into the stripe of strawberry.

"She liked my sauerkraut more than anyone else ever has." Mel took a big swipe out of the chocolate stripe with her spoon and sighed around her bite.

Becca scrunched up her nose. "Do you want to watch Elf? That always cheers me up when I'm sad."

Elf was the last thing she wanted to watch after the heartbreak of losing her only best friend besides Becca. Maybe she should've played along, allowed herself to date Lucy, kiss Lucy, make love to Lucy... She sighed and took another bite of the ice cream, allowing the strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate to blend together and melt on her tongue. No. It wouldn't have worked. She'd never be able to love Lucy the way she deserved. Would it have been convenient to be taken care of the way Becca had said she should be? Yes. But it would've felt wrong, accepting love from someone she'd never be able to return. Sex was sex. Mel wagered she could stand to try it with anyone if she really wanted, but after once with someone just for convenience, she didn't feel she'd want it again unless she really, truly felt deeply for that person.

"Did she kiss you?" Becca asked.

"Yes." Mel cried softly. "It was nice." It was nice and caring and soft, and Mel had never felt a touch quite like it in her life. But it still wasn't the touch, the lips, the feeling, or the taste she wanted.

"Then..." Becca spoke thoughtfully with the spoon on her lower lip, "What if you just kissed her more until you liked her the same way she likes you?"

Mel laughed at the naive thinking of her sister, "Because that's not-" she shoved a large bite of vanilla into her mouth, "I don't think I work that way."  

"Hmmm. How do you work?"

Mel leaned her head back against the couch and thought of the right words to say. "I think I need someone who knows me deeply, and I know deeply right back. Someone who I want to spend all of my time with outside of work who feels like a best friend but also like someone I want to kiss."

"Lucy was your best friend outside of work."

"But I don't want to kiss Lucy." She admitted softly.

"You don't want to kiss Lucy," Becca repeated. Suddenly her eyes widened, "I know!" She stood and started stimming, flapping her hands excitedly, "We just need to find someone else who really loves sauerkraut! They'll love it so much they can't live without the taste of it; they probably eat it with every meal." Becca stopped dead in her tracks and gave Mel the most serious look, "They even put it on ice cream."

Mel's tears stopped for a moment, and she giggled around another bite. It was absurd, the whole notion of a flavor that she'd concocted when they were tweens and didn't understand kissing or dating or falling in love. "Do you think they make sauerkraut ice cream?" Mel wiped her eyes.

"I'll Google it." Becca proclaimed and reached for her phone. They found out that night, throughout many rounds of giggles, that one ice cream shop in all of the contiguous United States did in fact make the delight. Something described as creamy, with tangy sour notes that, when blended with vanilla. A taste akin to buttermilk, according to the reviews.

"Whoever likes this stuff is probably crazy wild," Mel stated, and the thought of meeting that kind of person felt exciting. It felt...right.

"I think you need someone wild." Becca stared at the computer with wonder.

"Oh yeah?" Mel bumped her shoulder affectionately, and Becca smiled.

"What else do you think is made with sauerkraut?" Becca asked as she googled some more, stumbling across recipe after recipe for sauerkraut chocolate cake, cookies, and brownies. scrambled eggs with bacon and sauerkraut, salads, casseroles, soups. What once felt like a veritable dud of a fermented vegetable seemed to be extremely versatile. "I wanna make the chocolate cake."

Mel nodded, "Bet. We'll get the ingredients first thing after breakfast tomorrow."  Mel learned a valuable thing that day and weekend with her sister. She learned first that if she were ever in the same position as Lucy had been with her, she wouldn't risk ruining the entire friendship for a single kiss. The second valuable thing she learned was that sauerkraut chocolate cake was actually pretty delightful.

And now, as she stood up on the roof of PTMC, overlooking the city and the helicopter pad, her hands gripped tightly around the railing, she thought about how Frank tasted. She squinched her eyes closed and took a deep breath, lowering her head as she groaned. If she was being honest, in the five months since his return, he'd become everything to her. She wondered if this was how Lucy had felt about her three years ago.

The door clanged angrily behind her. The wind whipped up against her spine, and she stood straight, her head turning just enough to catch sight of him, breathless and worried as he trudged across the roof to her. "Dr. King." He called right before his footsteps stopped.

She turned her gaze back to the skyline, bright and twinkling, and she tried to ignore the shame and regret bubbling up inside of her. She thought of all the families in their homes, warm, snuggling on the couch, opening gifts with not even a care in the world that she'd just kissed the best friend she'd ever had and probably ruined her entire life forever because of it. She stared at her hands, frozen with cold, the pain of the metal against her palms a fitting punishment for what she'd done.  She lifted her chin upward, eyes catching the first flakes of the storm as they started to fall.

"Mel?"

Her shoulders leapt to her ears at the soft tone of his voice. He was just behind her now. She turned and gasped softly at the sight of him shivering, breathing heavily, hair blowing in the gusts of wind and swirling snowflakes. "You should go back inside. It's cold up here," her teeth chattered.

He laughed, his smile widening just for her, and the tension eased out of her for a moment at how light and free he looked. "Not even for a second-" he began, "-would I think of leaving you up here to freeze alone." It was then that she noticed the coat in his arms as he took another step toward her. The old Penguins coat he'd found back in the fall when he'd joined her and Becca on an excursion to the Flea Market on the south side. She remembered the way he'd whooped and hollared at the find. He'd rambled on about the perfect condition, minus the rip in the armpit that he'd wrangled her into fixing. "I've seen your lac stitches. You're even better than me."  

The things she'd do for this man. She shook her head and clutched her arms around herself tightly. She shivered violently as another gust of wind whipped up under her scrub top as it swirled around and through her twin braids. Becca's request, because, as she’d stated mischievously, “they would look cute with the elf hat I got you.” She’d rolled her eyes, not feeling like she was in much of a Christmas mood. "Frank thinks it's cute." Becca had teased. So, she’d worn it long enough to drop Becca off at the center, then shoved it in her bag before walking into work. Speaking of which... she reached up, noticing the top of her head felt suddenly cold.

"Here." Frank held out the elf hat, "I think you dropped this on your run up here." He smirked. "It looked really cute on you, by the way."

"You're-" her teeth chattered, and she took a step back, "Why are you being so nice to me?" She'd ruined it. She just knew it.

"Because," he stepped forward and draped the coat around her shoulders, "There..." He looked at her dotingly, running his hands up and down her arms just underneath the inner flaps and fleece of the coat. "You warming up?"

Her teeth slowly stopped chattering, but her heart continued racing as she looked up at him. There was snow collecting in the fringe of his bangs. His eyes were soft and caring. He was the same Frank she'd gazed upon yesterday when he'd smiled and handed her the lavender latte she'd been craving for days. The same Frank who'd smiled while sucking the tip of his candy cane and offered her a lick earlier when she couldn't stop staring at him. Before the kiss.

Was it possible?

He coughed suddenly, stepping away and scratching at the back of his neck nervously. She frowned, clutching her hands together tightly at her waist. "I'm sorry," she spoke softly.

"What?" Frank startled.

"I- It was really inappropriate of me to do THAT down THERE. I just-" she pressed against the muscle and tissue between her right forefinger and thumb. Frank nodded and turned toward the city, maybe for the same reasons she had just moments ago. To wonder about what ifs. To think about all the what-could-have-beens. She shifted her weight between her feet and stared at the flakes accumulating beneath them. "I just-" her voice warbled, chin wobbling a little as the tears sprang up, threatening to spill over.

She watched him chew on the inside of his lips, pursing them, working them around as he thought of just the right words to let her down... probably. The same lips that had tasted like decadent hot chocolate and peppermint candy canes, warm and cozy with firm but light pressure right before she'd pulled away with wide eyes and flair of excitement, the rush of feeling as though she'd done something forbidden and wholly brave before she turned on her heel and headed back through the double doors to the ED.

That kiss was an hour ago, by her best estimate. And for most of that hour, she'd floated around the department. If the hospital had no upper floors or cielings she swore she would've flown up and away on the high of kissing Dr. Frank Langdon. Dana had laughed at her good mood and the elf hat she'd proudly donned, feeling suddenly very in the spirit of the holiday, catching stray glances from Frank across the way with only two hours left in their shift together. A few times, she'd ducked away from the intensity of his gaze, seeing what she'd assumed was desire, and avoided him for fear she'd want to pull him behind a curtain and kiss him again. It was a thrill she hadn't expected and one she didn't want to end. That is, until, with only an hour left to go in their shift, she'd burst through the double doors to the empty hallway where they often huddled together to take a breather and found him preoccupied on the phone with his ex-wife... or apparently newly reconciled current wife.

"I know. I'm sorry, but I'm glad we're finally figuring it out, Abb's... Okay, love you too. We'll talk when you're back in town." He'd said before ending the call and shoving the phone back in his pocket. He turned just in time to see Mel sprinting for the door to the stairwell.

And that was how she'd ended up here, standing in the cold, snow falling evenly around them under a full moon on Christmas Eve, an hour, give or take, after she'd kissed him first. If Becca were here, she'd call the setting magic and romantic. But right now, with anxiety swirling between them thick as the snow, she wasn't sure one could call it magic or romantic at all. In fact, Mel felt again, on the cusp of losing it all and blubbering like a child.

Compared to her first kiss, it felt right, and she was attracted to Frank in a way no one else had ever quite scratched that part of her brain. And when she thought about all she'd learned from her second kiss, while she'd been chaste with Frank, she knew in her gut the potential for more to be good and right was there between them. And if she were thinking about her third kiss ever, even though it was a risk to break her carefully curated boundaries with Frank, she couldn't ignore how he seemed to care even deeper for her than Lucy ever had. He was never one to be upset that Becca was along on the off days they shared. He lived for the pranks, the jokes, and the sass that Becca sometimes volleyed in his direction. "My love language is sarcasm," he said, wiggling his eyebrows in response to a rather zesty comment from her sister. Most importantly, she hadn't missed how he'd gone even further out of his way, balancing their deepening friendship and integrating into each other's lives. She'd met his kids and then Abby, and hadn't missed the ribbing Abby had given Frank, "When's the engagement?" Frank had balked at the statement. "She's my best friend, Abb's lay off." Mel had simply blushed and laughed it off with him. But secretly, she'd already had a million thoughts and dreams on the matter. The first time any such person in her life had ignited the hope that she might not have to spend the rest of her time on this planet with only Becca at her side. Meeting Frank had got her thinking bigger, broadened her horizons, made her hope to hold his children in her arms and love them as her own, and maybe secretly hope to hold one they shared between them, too.

She shook her head of the thoughts, heartbroken a little at the loss she'd set herself up for. All dreams and hopes were permanently dashed. She was sure she'd carry the way she felt for him with her forever. She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath, "It's okay, Frank. I know. You don't have to try to figure out the right words to let me down easy."

His head whipped around to her, his face clouded with confusion, "Let you down?"

"Yeah. Before I- That kiss before. I'm sorry." She shivered beneath the coat, realizing for the first time that he stood before her in no more than a hoodie and his scrubs. If she really meant so little in the end, then why was he still standing up there in the cold with her?

She started rambling, "You followed me all the way up here, and it's freezing cold, and you gave me your vintage one-of-a-kind penguins jacket and—Ugh!" She balled her hands into fists and clutched them tightly to the sides of her neck, and gritted her teeth together. "I always do this. I've completely and totally ruined everything, and it'll be awkward and weird forever between us and-" She huffed, one of her hands swiping away the tears on her cheeks. "I just need another minute. You can go. It's okay. Everyone does. I'll-" She hiccuped, "I'll leave the jacket in your locker before I go home, promise. Just-" She hiccuped in another breath, surprised suddenly, to feel the beginning of a blubber in her chest and behind her lips ready to tumble loose. Her fists tightened at her side, a reminder to hold it together just a little longer until he left her.

"Mel?" He took a step closer, brows knit together with worry.

"Hmm?" she hummed, her eyes finally catching his in the low light.

"I don't know what you heard down there, but you- I don't wanna be anywhere else."

"You can't stay, though. Not with- I mean, you have Abby and the kids, and they're all waiting for you at home to celebrate Christmas Eve, and Tanner said he was so excited to leave out cookies with you for Santa and-" she paused, confused by the look of amusement on his face. "Why are you smiling like that? This is absolutely horrifying for me, Frank! I've absolutely destroyed everything, and now I'm— I'm a homewrecker too!" Her eyes widened in horror, and she stepped back toward the railing and braced herself against it, trying to take in deep breaths and failing.

He sidled up next to her and placed a hand on the middle of her upper back. "You gotta breathe, sweetheart," he cooed.

"I can't," she sobbed.

"Mel."

She looked up at him, his eyes still so kind, almost pitying now, she was sure. "What about Abby and the kids?"

Confusion flashed in his eyes, "They're fine?"

"No, I know that, but— tonight when you leave, and you go home to them— really," she sobbed harder, "I think it's amazing that you've worked it all out and-"

Frank let out the biggest belly laugh and continued to rub the spot between her shoulders for a beat more before he removed his hand and ran it through his snowy, wet hair. "Worked it out? I mean, yeah, I guess we did in a way, but-"

She stood, eyes still filled with petty tears, chest full of shame and anger at how amused he seemed to be by this entirely wretched situation. She'd finally been brave enough. She felt an intense enough desire and care for him to put herself out there, make the first move, and he seemed so callous. "Becca will be wrecked; she probably won't talk to me for months after I tell her about all of this."

"What are you going on about?" he asked, leaning on the railing and pressing his shoulder to hers.

She huffed and wiped at her nose, "I heard you on the phone with Abby."

"Hmm. You did?" She nodded in reply and hiccuped again and felt him wrap an arm around her, trying to tug her closer to him. She pulled away, sliding further across the roof and down the rail from him. "Oh, c'mon," he sighed.  Frank let out a short laugh and shook his head. "I'm not back together with Abby." He finally stated.

"But I heard you on the phone. You were talking about talking it out when she's back and-" she hiccuped. " And you said you loved her and- That's a really good think Frank. I'm so happy for you!" She squelched out.

He took four steps forward, his hands grasping her upper arms beneath the inside of the jacket. "Mel, you need to breathe." His hands hit her skin like icicles, the cold allowing her brain to pause, hiccuping painfully through her first deep breath in minutes. She exhaled slowly around another hiccup. "There ya go. Good." his hands began to rub up and down, a soothing, grounding touch she'd so desperately been needing tonight. Her shoulders slumped, and her fists unclenched from her sides.

"Abby is on some tropical vacation with her family for the holidays. The kids are with my mom tonight until we're done with shift, which is in-" he paused to check his watch, "thirty-five minutes." He continued kneeding up to her shoulders. "And hopefully Dana's head doesn't explode with us AWOL." He chuckled.

She shivered, eyes widening as she clasped a hand over her mouth, "Oh my gosh, my patients!"

He shrugged. "They'll wait. Tell me why you're so upset?"

"Abby's with her family?"

Frank nodded.

"The kids are—"

"With my mom," he finished for her.

"Oh. You aren't back together?"

A bright smile bloomed on his face, and his eyes twinkled with joy, "No."

"Oh."

"Yeah." She watched his eyes fall to glance at her lips, then bounce back up to catch her gaze.

She wiped her face and nose again, the cold biting against the tip. She probably looked a mess and ridiculous after all her blubbering and snotting pathetically. She sighed deeply, "I don't want you to feel like- to feel like- Maybe I shouldn't have kissed you. I feel like I've ruined everything now."

"You didn't." He tried to reassure her, his hands falling free from her as he crossed them over his chest and folded them under his armpits.

"Really?" She looked at him with worry, the hiccups easing.

He nodded, "Maybe like...if you'd asked me after the first round of rehab if Abby and I would work it out... back then I would've said yes because I'm stubborn and hate feeling like a failure all the time. Ya know?"

She nodded, deciding to slide her hands into the arms of the coat and zip it up as another gust of wind whipped around them. She watched as he shivered through a pause of thought, searching for his next words carefully. He turned his eyes from her and looked out over the fresh snow blanketing the city. A hush falling with each flake. And then he spoke again, "But my therapist says I have to get used to accepting failure, ya know? And Abby and I used to fight like cats and dogs, even after rehab and just-" He reached up to scratch at the back of his neck nervously. "We're just not the right flavors for each other. So sure, yeah, I failed at making that work, but maybe we just were never suited for one another."

Mel looked up at him in surprise at the words. "Flavors?"

How did he know?

He chuckled, "Yeah, something like that, I guess." She stood up from the railing, her hands shaking inside the pockets of his jacket. "Like when you have two flavors of ice cream that just go really well together. Well... Abby is like Moose Tracks, right? And I’m like the weird flavor at the local place no one likes, like the sauerkraut ice-cream they have at Urban Churn? Ya know? On South side?"

She looked up at him with wonder on her face. "Sauerkraut ice cream?"

He threw up his hands in defense, "I know it's gross. It's like the only place in the United States that makes it, but it's really good and- Mmmf!" Mel landed squarely in his arms, pressing her lips to his firmly again, her heart soaring with his admission, as absurd as it seemed. Out of all the places, she'd ended up in the only one that made sauerkraut ice cream. And out of all the people in Pensylvania she'd found the one who loved it most. He returned the kiss hungrily, lips and tongue and teeth still sweet with the taste of hot chocolate and the candy canes he couldn't stop eating all day, with just a hint of the cherry Chapstick he slathered his lips with on the daily.

She smiled against him before pulling away, her hand still pressed against his cheek. He was as stunned as she was, and it caused a laugh to tumble from her lips.

"Whoa," he gasped in surprise. "That sauerkraut ice-cream really did it for you, huh?" He teased.

She chuckled, "No..." her eyes fell to his lips, her thumb tracing them affectionately. "I just-" She took a deep breath, "you like sauerkraut." She looked at him then as if he'd lassoed the moon. And in a way, with the sauerkraut ice-cream and the cherry Chapstick, he had. He was all the flavors she'd dreamed of.

He squinted, "Yeah?"

She giggled and leaned her forehead against his chest in relief. "You don't know how good it is to hear someone say that after all this time!"

He quirked an eyebrow in question. "All this time?"

She shook her head and laughed nervously, "It's just a thing-" she exhaled. Her heart calming, the holiday suddenly looked extremely merry and bright again. "Becca said it a long time ago. About me being sauerkraut, and nobody really likes sauerkraut, you know?"

"Nobody?" he grinned.

"Yeah.. well, just our grandmother."

"Oh, huh... well. You can add me to the list, I think." He laughed blissfully. "Because-" he leaned his forehead against hers, his lips softly grazing hers, "I think I've loved you for a long time now."

"Really?" she croaked. She was stricken with a feeling of incandescent happiness. So brightly shining, she'd light up any room she walked into in this very moment.  He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, and she closed her eyes.

For the first time in her life, she felt... cherished.

"Really," he said, chest rumbling with a pleased hum.

"You mean it?" she squeaked happily as he pressed another kiss to the tip of her cold nose.

"With every ounce, every fibre of my being." He pressed a final, soft kiss to her lips and shivered. She opened her eyes and found herself staring directly into the deep blue of his own, irises blown wide with desire.

"I love you too." She whispered, honest and pure.

He nodded and pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms all the way around her as they shivered together. They fit so naturally, her head nestled just under his chin as he, too, sighed in relief. "I definitely owe Becca fifty dollars now." He chuckled.

She pulled away and looked at him curiously. "Becca?"

His cheeks flushed, and he nodded, "She bet me to kiss you."

"What?!" Mel stepped back aghast at the notion of her sister and Frank betting about this.

"Well, I mean, technically, I lost. You kissed me first. But-" he waved his finger at her, his other hand occupied with grabbing hers and pulling her toward the door. "-to be fair, I had this whole thing planned out, how I was gonna do it later tonight in front of the lit tree. There was an ornament the kids helped me make, and I got your favorite movie-"

"Not elf."

"NOT elf." He clarified with wide eyes, while guiding them into the warmth of the hospital.

"That sounds... nice." She sighed. 

"Watch your step," he warned, ushering her through the ice-slicked entry to the stairs. "But yes, tonight. I had this whole plan. My mom had the kids, I was going to ask you to come over-"

"But my plans with Becca."

He laughed then, "Yeah... about that. You should check your phone. Becca's probably been trying to call you."

She pulled her phone from the pocket of her scrubs and counted four missed calls and two texts from Becca.

B: Staying at the center. Have fun with Frank.

She looked down at Frank, now staring at her sheepishly two stairs below. "And the phone call with Abby you heard was her also asking if I'd asked you out yet. I kind of told her... my plan."

"Your plan?" she smirked.

He rolled his eyes, and they continued down the stairs together, wet shoes squeaking against the linoleum, hands intwined, "It doesn't really matter now because- I lost the bet, horribly." He sighed.

"How's that?"

"Well... you kissed me first... twice!"

"If Becca finds out it was twice, she'll probably convince you that you owe her a hundred." She mused.

Frank turned on his heal and Mel found herself pressed against the wall of the stairwell near the 3rd floor. "Then I should really make sure the third and fourth kiss count for everything." He growled, mouth catching hers in a heated snare. And for the first time since her very first kiss, Mel felt at home with her lips pressed to his. He was more than something chaste to answer a curiosity. More than the sloppy decisions that followed her second kiss. The feelings she felt for Frank were far deeper than the friendship that spurred her third. These kisses with Frank meant forever.

A few moments later, breathless and giggling, they arrived on the main floor just outside the double doors to the ED. They were met by the curious and amused faces of Dana and Ahmed, both wearing coats and clearly on a mission the two missing residents. Upon seeing Mel and Frank, Dana let out a loud whoop and ripped her coat off. "Thank God! Where the hell did you two get off to in this weather?"

Frank blushed and gripped Mel's hand even tighter. Ahmed took a look at both of them and just shook his head as he laughed. "Ah shit." The security officer exclaimed. He nudged Dana with his elbow, "Looks like Princess won."

"Ugh, I was really hoping for that New Year's Eve special." She rolled her eyes and then smiled at Frank and Mel, "Who cares? As long as you two are happy, and we don’t havta see this one-" she nodded toward Frank, who blushed a shade of crimson Mel had never seen, "-with his mouth half open, drooling every time you walk by."

"To be fair, Dana, I don't think it's gonna stop after this." He grinned, then shot Mel a wink. 

Dana turned and started walking toward the double doors. "C'mon, love birds, ya got twenty minutes left on the floor!" The older, wiser woman called over her shoulder.

Mel looked up at Frank, and Frank looked down at Mel.

"Merry Christmas, Frank." She beamed up at him.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart." He pressed a kiss to her temple.

Just twenty more minutes before forever started.