Archive of Our Own ^beta

Mel wasn’t one for coincidences. She didn’t believe in them—people didn’t end up at the same place at the same time when the other had ’no idea.’

She believed in a lot of things, though. She believed in a squared plus b squared will always equal c squared. She believed that direct pressure did more to stop bleeding than a drug administered last second ever would. She believed that being a doctor was something she could do—but by all means, she didn’t think it was fate that lead her here.

Fate felt so disingenuous. It put to death all of her hard work, her time spent away from home and then back at home and transferring from one medical school to another because she couldn’t up and move Becca, not after their mom just died. That was all logic, not fate, not ‘meant to be.’

Things would be as they are because of direct consequences of each action she took.

So, you’ll have to forgive her. She was wrong. Coincidences can exist under specific circumstances.

— — —

“Melissa King?” Someone called over the intercom, startling her. She was in the airport for her flight to Colorado, a medical conference she’d signed up for at the last minute. She needed to learn more on field medicine, anyway.

(She didn’t necessarily need to. She needed to get out of Pittsburgh before she became a patient of Behavioral Health herself.)
The past few weeks had pulled more from her than she’d ever imagined. She’d woken up in a cold sweat, thinking over everything she’d done to each patient. She’d spent so much time rewriting each story, wondering if the car accident victim, when ripped open for autopsy, would have a heart defect she didn’t visualize. If they’d have a broken rib that caused a punctured lung, and if every breath they took mutilated them further. If—
It never stopped, is the thing. She had to leave.
So, she gathers up her backpack and carryon, makes her way up to the gate agent. She plasters on a false smile. “Hi, I’m Melissa King.”

“We’ve been informed that we incidentally double booked your seat. Are you able to transfer to the next flight?” The woman couldn’t have been more than twenty, her green eyes wide and frightened. This would delay Mel’s plan to get out of Pittsburgh, to get out of the trap.

“When is the next flight?” She asked, instead of crying.

“In two hours. We’re happy to comp your meal, or—“

“That’s fine,” she paused, looking for her name tag. “Alex. It’s fine.”

She took her new ticket and made her way through the airport, clutching her water bottle with shaking hands and she was so sure that someone, somewhere, had put a fucking curse on her because why the hell couldn’t she get out of Pennsylvania—

She didn’t even notice that she’d walked into someone, her body twisting and turning and her hip hitting the floor with a thud so loud she thought she’d broken something.

“Shit, I’m so—King?”

Mel blinked, looking up at the person hovering over her, hands stretched out to help her up. “Dr. Ellis?”

Parker and Mel weren’t…they weren’t really friends. They were two people who worked together and saw the same horrors, who drank together once and flirted back and forth to pass the time on quiet nights. They weren’t anything, but Mel felt everything around her. She could feel the cool air against her heated skin, the way the one time they’d hugged, Parker’s locs brushing against her chin.

They weren’t anything.

Parker sighed, lifting up both of their bags. “Now I’m extra sorry. Just my luck, plowing into my coworker at the airport.”

Coworker. A shock of cold water.

Mel folded herself up, exhaling sharply at the pain in her hip. She’d have to look at it later. She landed on a dirty airport floor, with all the germs that had likely been there since the early 2000s.

“It’s fine.” She cleared her throat, “Well, it was good to see you—“

“Wait,” Parker sang, her hand landing gently on her upper arm. “What are you doing here?”

Mel sighed, wishing she wasn’t experiencing this feeling of deep, profound torment. Maybe she could actually talk to Parker. Laugh a little, enjoy her time in an airport, with a beautiful woman whose voice felt like cool water on a hot day.

She needed to get out, leave this god forsaken city.

Instead, “Going to a medical conference, the field medicine one? Out in Colorado.”

“No shit?” Parker laughed, and Mel hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt. “Me too. What a coincidence.”

“Coincidences don’t exist.” She answered reflexively.

Parker arched an eyebrow, then gave her a once over. “You’re having a bad day.”

An understatement, if she’d ever heard it.

“They double booked my seat. Now I have to wait for two hours in a gross airport with people who probably haven’t washed their hands since yesterday.” She said bluntly. “Yes, I am having a bad day.”

“Flight—“ she glanced at her phone. “250, right?”

She looked at her own ticket, and sighed again when she saw the same flight number. Mel, on any other day, would be ecstatic to be with Parker alone. She would probably feel a little more at ease–less like she had to hide herself behind safety goggles and yellow trauma gowns. She wanted to get out of this state without being Dr. King, or at least not being the Dr. King her coworkers knew. She wanted to be Mel, just Mel, for a couple of days.

She’d never get to be alone, it seemed. “Yeah, 250.”

“Well, why don’t you sit with me? I’ll go wash my hands, and we can just sit. I won’t make you talk.” She said the last part softly, too gentle for the mood Mel was in.

“Sure.”

She followed after Parker like a lost duck, joining her in washing her hands. Parker noticed her favoring her hip, tilting her head.

“Let me look at your hip,” she motioned to her pants. “Least I can do.”

“It’s really fine,” she said back, not looking up at her. “It’s just sore.”

“Please?”

She couldn’t deny her, not when she looked at her like she would simply die if she didn’t take the time to visualize it. She let out a soft sigh, a piece of her hair blowing off of her face.

She pointed towards the accessible stall, and Parker smiled as she made her way through. “I don’t need everyone seeing me in my underwear.”

“Oh, you’d rather save it for me?” Parker teased, and Mel’s face flushed. They traded quips like this most times they work together, it shouldn’t be making her blush.

Mel slid her bag off her shoulders, setting it down on the diaper changing station. She quickly unbuttoned her jeans, sliding them down to her mid thigh to expose her hips. She wished she was wearing better underwear, anything but the solid pink granny panties she’d grabbed this morning, especially when Parker bent down to examine her.

This feeling she’d had around Parker wasn’t one she had experienced often. The consistent feeling of butterflies when she smiled at her, or looped her in on gossip she wasn’t aware of, making it seem like they were closer than Mel believed them to be. She was so kind, her focus solely on Mel when she asked a question, or when they were just having idle conversation. Her gaze never wavered, never got distracted by anything. She was insistent on eye contact, and well–Mel relished in being the center of her undivided attention.

“Damn,” she whistled. “It’s already bruising.”

“I’m anemic.” She said, as an afterthought. “I bruise easily.”

Parker’s hands were cool as she slid up the band of her underwear, palpating just outside the bruise. “Does it feel fractured?”

“No.”

“Any dizziness?”

“No, I really am fine. I just need some Tylenol.”

Parker didn’t move from her spot, her fingers soothing her with repetitive motions. Mel felt herself unclench, just a little bit. She was comforting, in that way that Mel never found in anyone. Never looked for in anyone. She’d always felt it, always sought her out when they worked together. Her presence was steady, her mannerisms firm, but not mean. She didn’t make fun of Mel, or make jokes that she didn’t automatically pick up on. She was nice.

Mel liked nice. She liked Parker, even though she’d never tell a soul.

Inevitably, Parker had to stand up, and her underwear slid back into place. Without giving her a moment to think, Parker had pulled up her jeans softly, zipping and buttoning them with an ease that made her wonder if she’d be just as efficient taking them off.

“Well, Dr. King. My diagnosis is a mild contusion to the right hip. The treatment plan is rest and ice, and Tylenol, as you suggested. Do you agree?”

Mel smiled. “I think that would be sufficient.”

Parker winked. “Let’s get to it, then.”

— — —

How she managed to get the restaurant manager to not only get them a table, but bring her a bag of ice, Mel’ll never understand. She didn’t even explain herself, just took an ace bandage from her bag and deftly wrapped her thigh and hip with it, holding the ice under two tight straps.

“That should do it, you okay?” Her eyes were so serious, and Mel was captivated by her gaze.

“I’m fine.” She promised, then pulled the menu to herself. “Dr. Abbot has you on the go bag thing, too?”

“Occupational hazard, it’s better for everyone. Other day, I found Zofran in my scrub pocket. It’s in the bag now.”

“Samira said that Dr. Walsh made her one, and hand sewed her name into it. One of her old bags from the military.”

Parker chuckled. “That woman has some weird courting rituals.”

She got Mel a water, herself a Corona, even though it was only ten am.

“Airport has no rules, Dr. King.”

“Why don’t you ever call me Mel?” She tilted her head to the side. Her glasses were dirty and she hated that, but she didn’t want to lose her nerve by pausing for something as simple as that. “Everyone calls me Mel.”

“You never asked me to call you Mel,” she sipped her beer. “If you ask me to call you Mel, I’ll call you Mel. I’d like you to call me Parker in return.”

“Please, call me Mel. Dr. King is for the hospital.” She sighed. “And thank goodness, we aren’t at the hospital.”

Parker laughed, her nose wrinkling. “You’re funny.”

“I’ve been told.” She said dryly, then took a sip of her water. “I needed to get out of there.”

“Burnt out?”

She nodded. “I’ve been burnt out before, but this feels different. It felt like if I didn’t get out of the state, I wouldn’t be far enough away. I needed to not see the walls or the green curtains that make too much noise. I needed to hear anything but the monitors telling me people are dying. I needed out.”

But that wasn’t even the half of it, not for her. The pressure to do everything right, beginning to end, crushed her soul every single day. Every time she had to see a Press Ganey, she felt even worse. Her skin would crawl, her anxiety would skyrocket. She didn’t have any vices to take the edge off, except her current one: running away.

And even that had a purpose.

Parker was silent, her face serene. “It’s hard.”

“It’s more than that, though.” She insisted. “It’s like, every time I walk through the doors, someone dies. Every time I take a deep breath, someone is taking their last. For every time I hug my sister—“ she swallowed around the lump that appeared in her throat. “I don’t feel real. Not in there. I feel like someone ripped me apart and laid me on an exam table in the morgue.”

The server set down her fries, smiling uneasily at her. “Need anything else?”

“Ketchup,” Parker said automatically, without breaking eye contact with Mel. The woman pulled the ketchup from a nearby table and hurried away. “Mel, why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“What was I supposed to say? I’m a doctor, it’s my job to be with people on their worst day and try to fix it. Not to have my feelings out on a buffet table for Kiara and Robby to pick apart.” She shook her head. “It’s not worth it. It’s easier just to flee the state for a couple of days, smell clean air.”

Parker chewed on her lip, thinking. “I had that happen, once.”

Mel remained silent, holding her breath for her next words.

“It was my second year, I think. Before Adamson died, for sure. Right at the start of covid, I had a little girl who needed a vent, but before that, she needed blood. Her parents flat out refused. Said if it was her time, it was her time. She was only six, and she bled out in my hands as her parents prayed over her dead body from the corner. Then they left her. And I had the next patient, so I had to tag her, and let her go. There was no funeral, and there was nothing I could do to save her.” She swallowed a sip of her Corona, a drop spilling on her chin. “Paige. Her name was Paige, and she would be twelve today. I try to take a trip every year on her birthday.”

Without thinking, Mel took her hand in hers and squeezed. “I’m so sorry.”

Parker squeezed back, tangling their fingers together. “Thank you. But that’s what I mean, you know? You have to give yourself the space to feel it, to let it go. You don’t want to be like Robby and Jack, all hardened and moody. You’re Melissa King, pathologically cheerful. In that same sentiment though—you don’t have to be. At least not with me.”

Mel was quiet, staring just over Parker’s shoulder at the wall. She was bouncing her leg idly, her fingers tapping a nonsensical rhythm on the table. She wanted to look at her, see the sincerity on her face. She wanted to see her, and be able to read every thought she’d had since she sat down at the table. The two feet between them felt too far, and suddenly, Mel was overwhelmed with the urge for comfort. She wanted to be held, wanted Parker to tell her everything was okay.

She wouldn’t ask, though. She never did.

So instead, “Thanks, Parker.”

— — —

They didn’t sit together on the flight, Mel in the emergency exit row (she was already claustrophobic. Why would she make it worse?) with Parker towards the front. She signed in to the WiFi, checking her emails idly.

PARKER ELLIS, ATT NIGHTS: What’s your favorite color?

Mel rolled her eyes.

MELISSA KING, RES4: Green. Any shade. You?

PARKER ELLIS, ATT NIGHTS: Whatever that shade of purple you’re wearing. Why don’t you wear green, then?

MELISSA KING, RES4: Doesn’t go with my skin tone. Purple is easier. Why don’t you wear purple?

PARKER ELLIS, ATT NIGHTS: I like seeing it on you more.

Mel flushed, then put her phone away. She closed her eyes, leaning back and stretching
her legs. She preferred to try to rest on flights, because—

The intercom crackled.

“Jesus Christ.” She cursed.

”Is there a medical professional on board? If so, please hit your call light. Medical emergency on board.”

“For fucks sake.” She groaned, startling the man next to her. She hit her call bell, then waited for the attendant.

“You’re a doctor?” He asked, his eyes wide and his hair ruffled like he’d pulled on it.

“Unfortunately,” she said under her breath. “Yes. Dr. Melissa King, PTMC Emergency Medicine.”

“Oh,” he sighed. “Thank god. Your coworker, Dr. Ellis is up there now.”

She unbuckled, following behind him and trying not to notice the people staring at her.
Parker was on the ground, doing chest compressions.

“Hey, Mel. He’s been down about three minutes, compressions initiated 30 seconds after last known consciousness. Can you bag him?” Her voice was calm and husky in a way it only became during an emergency.

Mel crouched to her knees, grabbing the gloves left out beside it. She started counting respirations, then looked around. “Do you have an AED?”

The flight attendant looked through the closet, pulling out all of the supplies they had. “Yes, here.”

“Got a knife?” She asked, then looked around for the flight marshal. “Please go find the cop. He will have a knife.”

“Need to switch?” She looked at Parker, whose arms had started to shake. She nodded, and they swapped off, Mel placing the pads on with a practiced ease. She tuned out everyone else, the sounds of crying and photos being taken. She just needed to focus on what was in front of her, the dying man whose ribs cracked beneath her fingers, whose skin was starting to grey–

The flight attendant walked up with the knife, and she cut off his clothes. She didn’t much care for anything right now, just getting this guy up and walking. “You need to land this plane.” She called out, hoping the pilot heard her. “Nearest base. He needs an emergency room, does anyone have an epi pen?”

Parker chuckled. “Already asked. You know planes don’t have them?”

“That’s fucking stupid.” She mumbled. “Okay. Does anyone have aspirin?”

Someone tossed a bottle to her, then she heard the AED start up. “Clear, clear.” Parker repeated it and sat back, waiting for the shock.

’Shock delivered.’

Mel pressed down on his neck, sighing in relief. “He’s back. Land the plane.”

“We can’t just—“

“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.” She interrupted, feeling anger surge, hot and blazing. “Land this plane or I’m calling the ground police myself.”

The flight attendant swallowed, her face going even paler. Parker laughed. “I’ve never heard her yell before. Better get that pilot to land on an Air Force base.”

— — —

They handed the patient off to the ground EMTs, then grabbed their things to follow the patient to the hospital. The police were there to collect them, letting the patient’s husband ride with him.

“We’re relatively close to Colorado now,” Parker said, nudging her shoulder. “We can just drive. I’ll rent a car.”

“I’d rather do that, than ever get on a plane again.”

Parker smiled softly at her. “I knew you were nervous, but you handled it really well. And the yelling?” She whistled. “Hot, Mel.”

Mel rolled her eyes and slapped her arm lightly. “I’m just glad he’s alive.”

She yawned, tilting her head back to rest against the seat. She’d have to sleep in the car, and pray Parker was a good driver.

“Here,” Parker tapped her thigh. “Lay down, you’re tired.”

“No, it’s fine. I just need to close my eyes for a second.” She massaged her temples, then squeaked when Parker pulled her by the arm to rest her head in her lap. She adjusted, sighing into the warmth.

“Better?” She murmured, pushing an errant piece of hair off of her forehead. Mel nodded, pulling her knees to her chest.

They rode in silence the rest of the way. Her fingers carded through her hair, undoing her braid and massaging her scalp. Mel let out a small groan, her body unclenching for the first time in what felt like months.

She’d warmed up to Parker over time, and when she had free time to daydream or to help herself fall asleep, she’d imagine moments like this. The feeling of being cared for, or someone to share herself with. Someone who didn’t think it was too heavy, and didn’t try to fix things for her. Just held her while she did it herself.

She spent enough time thinking about this feeling, but it was nothing compared to the reality of it. The way her blunt nails scraped just right across her scalp, how she didn’t pull on any tangles. Her eyes fell shut, her hand slipping beneath her thigh to hold herself close.

The ride ended much faster than Mel would have wanted.

Parker grabbed their things, helping Mel with her bag and braiding her hair quickly, tugging on the end to tease her. A glint showed in her eyes, and she felt herself get lost in the attention. Parker looked over her shoulder, her eyes widening.

“Fiona?” Parker called, a wide grin spreading over her face. “Holy shit, it is you!”

A tall, lithe woman turned around, and Mel was overcome with such a flash of jealousy that she wanted to sit down and throw a fit. Why did she have to be so damn pretty?

Her hair flowed in curls down her back, and her nose glinted with a small ring. She had tattoos running up and down her arms, and she had gorgeous blue eyes. She was everything Mel was not, and it pissed her off.

They hugged for a long time, longer than would be deemed appropriate for a work setting. Parker pulled her by the elbow closer to them, getting her out of the way of a gurney.

“Dr. King, this is an old attending from PTMC. Fiona Moreno, this is Dr. King.”

Mel stretched out a hand with a terse smile. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Moreno.”

She waved a hand. “Please, call me Fiona. Everyone does.”

She waited for Mel to say something, and for once, she didn’t correct her in calling her Mel. She didn’t want her to know her name.

“You guys brought in the airplane patient?” She asked, sanitizing her hands and walking towards their hub. “He’s up in cath lab now, we didn’t have to do anything here. Good job, Parker.”

“The praise goes to Dr. King, she yelled at a pilot.” Parker wrapped an arm around her shoulder, laying her cheek on her forehead. “She’s a badass.”

“Well, thank you Dr. King. I’m sure Mr. Garson will appreciate it.” Fiona said, her expression soft. “I appreciate it. It’s the middle of nowhere out here.”

Mel wanted to throw up. She’d been having a day, and she just wanted to get out of here. She wanted to go to Colorado. She didn’t want to be Dr. King, not now. But she didn’t want Fiona to call her Mel. It smelled like the same antiseptic they use in the Pitt, the sound of monitors beeping and people gagging and—

She turned around and walked back out the way she came. She couldn’t do this, not right now. She couldn’t even breathe.

She found a bench just outside the bay, pulling her knees to her chest to brace from the cold. Without thinking, she called her sister.

“Mel!” She answered, and for a second, all of her worries melted away.

“Hi, Becca.” She replied. “What are you up to?”

“Well, you called in the middle of dinner.” She squinted, looking at the wall behind her.
“Where are you?”

“I’m not quite sure,” she mused. “We had to land the plane early.”

“Oh! Was it one of those things where people start yelling for a doctor? You hate that.” She wrinkled her nose, and Mel laughed, ignoring the lump in her throat.

“I do. And yes, but the patient is okay now.”

“I need to finish my dinner. I’ll text you later, love you big!” She blew a kiss, her new thing, and hung up.

Mel placed her chin on top of her knees and stared at the flurries, wondering if they got sad. The snow wasn’t going to stick, not in this region. She knew that they were in the Midwest, somewhere that it was never too cold and never too hot. She liked the Midwest, in that abstract way one liked paprika. You can’t taste it, but you don’t mind it.

“Mel?” Parker called, and she watched her face as she scanned the area. A bitten lip, her eyebrows adjusted in that sweet way that she did when she was thinking. When her eyes landed on her, she saw a sigh escape her chest, and relief crossed her features. She looked so pretty.

“You took off on me?” She asked, sitting beside her. Her arm extended over the back of the bench, tracing shapes on her shoulder. “Had me worried.”

“Wanted to call Becca,” she explained. “And I couldn’t take the noise.”

“Fuck, I forgot all about the monitors—“

“It’s fine.” She shrugged. “It’s not your job to remember.”

She looked out again into the snow, watching a child across the parking lot bounce around with endless energy, while her mom smiled. Her mother was like that, always letting her twins play as much as they wanted, even when she got sick, she encouraged them to go out, be away from the house and do something. It made her miss her mother something fierce, an ache spreading through her chest.

“I want it to be, though.” Parker’s hand found her side, pulling her closer. “Fiona said there’s a rental car place about fifteen minutes from here. The cop offered to take us, is that okay?”

Parker couldn’t know how much it meant to her, her voice soft and kind, considerate in a way she didn’t expect from anyone, not anymore.

She nodded, unfurling her legs and stretching widely. She saw Parker’s eyes trail downwards, grazing over the exposed portion of her abdomen.

“Ready?”

— — —

“Only two hours to Colorado,” she whistled. “Then three to Boulder. Sure you don’t want to just bail?”

“I’m sure.” She clicked her seatbelt, pushing the chair back as far as it could go. “I paid for it.”

Parker hummed, then pulled out of the lot with an ease that Mel didn’t expect. She’d rented a Jeep, saying something about the snow there. She didn’t know it snowed that much in Colorado, she’d never been there before. She picked it because it was far.

They didn’t talk much on the drive, just listened to music and pointed out funny landmarks. So, Mel had time to think.

Why wasn’t she bothered by Parker’s presence? She’d been dead set on being by herself, not having to cater to anyone else. She wanted to be alone, and that’s why she’d chosen Colorado, even just for a weekend. Chose something where people called each other by their first names, where she wasn’t the only person to go to in a crisis. No monitors, no call bells, no charge nurses chasing her down or med students that needed to give a report. She didn’t want to be a doctor on this trip, she wanted to be a student, or someone you only see in passing, and forget their name after.

And when Parker knocked her down in the middle of an airport, she didn’t feel as terrible as she should have. She should have insisted on being left alone, to avoid having to speak to someone who only knows her as a doctor. Someone who she’d hung out with one time outside of work, across the street on a park bench and drinking cheap beer after a multi car pile up they’d worked together. Four dead teenagers, the fifth alive and crying for her friends. They were about to graduate, dressed in their best clothes and in a mini van that one of them got as a gift from her parents. A hand me down, that barely ran and caught fire when they hit the embankment.

They’d both sat in silence, then. They’d mourned over the four they lost, talked about the one they didn’t. They shared a piece of cake that someone procured from a locker that looked questionable, and Parker didn’t mention it when she started to cry. She’d just wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and Mel’d felt Parker’s tears drip onto her forehead.

Then, at work the next day, they didn’t talk about it.

Which leads back to how she’d managed to end up going on the same flight, to the same conference in Boulder, Colorado. Where it was snowing in early December and it was still sunny, and freezing. Where she’d chosen to go when it got too loud.

“What hotel are you at?” Parker asked, flipping her turn signal.

“I got an Airbnb.” She tilted her head. “Where are you staying?”

Parker shrugged. “Figured I’d get a hotel there.”

“You can stay with me,” she offered. “Please.”

It was reflexive, an impulse she’d never felt before. She wanted someone there. She wanted Parker there.

“Well, since you said please.”

— — —

The Airbnb was smaller than the host advertised.

Like, much smaller.

“I feel like the universe is laughing at me.” Mel said glumly, punching in the code. “Belly laughing.”

“It’s not that bad.” Parker said, hopeful. “It’s just, well. It’s small.”

“Yeah, but you probably came here expecting to have your own space, and I was excited to sleep in hotel sheets. Now I have a couch that’s seen better days.” She pointed to the rickety piece of furniture.

Parker snorted, putting her bag down. “Mel, if you think I’m letting you sleep on the couch, you’re insane.”

“You’re my guest, Parker, that’s messed up—“

“Not messed up. I have manners.”

“That’s misogynistic and outdated.” She rolled her eyes. “Let’s just…share the bed. Easier that way.”

Parker shrugged. “I won’t complain.”

They unpacked together, each taking one side of the dresser and moving with the quick efficiency they’d learned from the Pitt. Mel’s certain even her showers take less time, because she’s always so ready to go to bed that she can’t force herself to take her time anymore. She doesn’t have the time.

“I’m going to shower the airplane smell off of me. Can you order food?” She handed her phone over. “Password is 201402. Use my card.”

With that, she grabbed her shower bag, and closed the door behind her.

Mel sat down on the couch, scrolling through the options and landing on an Indian place that looked promising. She didn’t know what Parker would want, how was she supposed to order it?

Before she could stop herself, she knocked twice on the bathroom door and opened it.

“What do you like from Indian take out places?”

“Tikka masala with samosas,” she called over the water. She poked her head out, and Mel had to think about stitches to avoid the way she wanted to lick the water off of her. “And a mango lassi, if they have it.”

“No naan?” She asked, holding eye contact. She can’t look at the water if she’s looking at her big, gorgeous brown eyes.

Then, she reached her hand up to wipe her face, and she caught a glimpse of the side of her breast and had to turn around. “I’m ordering the garlic one.”

She shut the door and leaned against it, pressing her hand to her chest to force her breath to catch. What even was that?

Mel shook her head, as though it would rattle the words in her head to make some semblance of a sentence. She placed the order (using her own card, because she was not about to let that happen) and gathered her stuff for her shower.

Parker stepped out, steam billowing behind her, and Mel had no choice but to stare. She wore a loose tee shirt and boxers, her skin was shiny and she smelled like vanilla and bourbon. Her locs were down around her shoulders, and she felt like she was going to pass out at how gorgeous she was.

“You ordered?”

Mel blinked, shaking her head. “Uh, yeah. Yep. You’ll have to check the ETA, I’m just—I’m gonna shower now.”

She hustled into the bathroom, trapping herself in the leftover steam. She showered quickly, her skin burning the same way it did in Pittsburgh. She was probably going to be this way forever—constantly awake and startled, quick with everything she did. At least her soap smelled good and she’d learned the quickest way to shower and get fully clean.

She picked up her own pajamas, a 3xl tee shirt that she’d thrifted for sleeping purposes, and a pair of boy short underwear. She’d have to keep her legs down, but she wanted to be comfortable.

She dried her hair as best as she could with a towel, hearing the front door open and close. “Food’s here!” Parker yelled, and Mel sighed.

“Coming!”

— — —

It didn’t feel awkward to her until it came time for bed, holding her stomach and tapping her sides until she felt calm enough to actually lay down.

Parker was already in, hair wrap on and under the covers, her eyes blinking slowly at her phone. She steeled herself, and slipped under the blanket with her.

“Do you need a light on?” She asked, reaching over Mel to turn off her lamp.

She shook her head softly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. The coolness of it made her shiver, but it helped her stay temperate when she slept.

“You okay?” Parker asked, her voice soft. “Comfortable?”

“Kinda.” She sighed, rolling over to face her. She curled her hands in front of her, the feeling calming her slowly. She was exhausted.

“I used to do this for my sister, but when she would have a hard time sleeping, I’d rub her back until she fell asleep.” Parker swallowed. “Want to try?”

Mel thought for a second, then nodded. She rolled back over, her shirt rising up and exposing her thighs, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

The first press of Parker’s hands over her back had her sighing in relief, the pure comfort of it all making her want to cry. How long had it been since someone truly comforted her?

Her hands were heavy and soft, and her shirt made little rustling sounds against her skin.

“Can you—“ she swallowed. “Can you go under my shirt?”

Her voice was small. She felt small.

“‘Course, baby.” And god, if the combined feeling that Parker elicited by calling her baby and her cool hands on her skin wasn’t her undoing, she’d have to imagine what else could do it.

— — —

She woke slowly, burying her face into her pillow. God, it smelled like Parker.

The pillow moved, and Mel froze. She felt Parker’s hand caress the side of her ribs, just under her breast. She was clearly awake, and Mel heard the soft sounds of a video playing on her phone.

Would it be so bad if she didn’t want to get up? If she didn’t want to go to the field medicine conference, if she wanted to stay in bed all day? Sleep off and on, wake up surrounded by Parker? What would be so wrong with that?

“I know you’re awake.” Parker said, and Mel groaned.

“I don’t want to go.” She whispered, and felt the sting of tears. “I don’t want to.”

“We don’t have to, baby.” Parker said back, and pulled her closer. “We don’t have to go to the conference. We can do something else.”

“What even is there to do here?” She wiped her eyes. “I came all the way to Colorado to learn something, and now I’m here, and I don’t want to go, I don’t want to be around people and think about crush injuries—“

“Hey, look at me.” Parker said, and Mel tilted her head up. Her thumb caught a tear from her eye, she sighed. “Mel, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? We can go walk around town, buy weird souvenirs and be tourists, if you want to. We can stay here all day and you can rest. We can go skiing.”

“That all sounds preferable to being a doctor.” She replied absently. “I want to buy stupid souvenirs.”

“Then we’ll do that, and it’ll be fun.” She smiled. Mel placed a hand atop hers and tangled their fingers together.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, now you have to dress for the snow.”

— — —

“I look ridiculous.” Mel groaned, pulling down her beanie again. “This coat cannot be necessary.”

“Oh, but it is.” Parker laughed, pulling up her own. She left it unbuttoned, exposing her PTMC pullover. “Trust me.”

“How would you know?”

“I’m from here.” She shrugged. “Grew up about an hour north?”

“An hour—Parker, what?” Mel gaped. “Why didn’t you say anything!”

“I didn’t need to,” she shook her head. “I used to come to Boulder all the time.”

“So, let me get this straight: you grew up in Boulder, the place I chose to run away to?”

“Correct. Coincidences are crazy.” She opened the door, motioning for Mel to go ahead of her. “Ladies first.”

“Again, misogyny is real.”

”Chivalry, Mel.”

They piled into the jeep, Mel’s coat making an annoying noise. She tore it off her body and threw it in the back, cold be damned.

“You’re putting it back on before we go outside.” Parker said, putting her arm on Mel’s headrest to back out.

“I’m already wearing the super grip boots.” Mel whined. “They’re uncomfortable.”

“So is breaking an ankle, and we would like to avoid the ER, right?” At Mel’s silence, Parker laughed. “That’s what I thought.”

They joked back and forth until they made it downtown, and Mel’s eyes widened. It was beautiful. The buildings were old, but even in the freezing weather shops were open on Pearl street.

“Okay, so.” Parker turned around, grabbing her coat and putting it in her lap. “This is Pearl Street Mall. Lots of things to see here; funky shops and restaurants. There may even be someone on stilts. Hope that doesn’t scare you.”

Mel grinned. “This is awesome.”

They wandered about, stopping in whatever store they wanted, and buying ridiculous things. She grabbed a cup that said Look At My Boulders! with the city name, a play at boobs. She saw a cute blanket that Becca would love, grabbed that too.

They stopped at a jewelry store, next, and Mel had never really been into jewelry, but she saw the appeal now.

She was gazing longingly at a case with a gold chain necklace, with a pendant that was just the letter ‘M’ and had little green gems around the angles. She looked at the price tag and shook her head, but she pointed it out to Parker anyway.

“Isn’t it pretty?” She whispered. “I’m not getting it, it’s way out of my price range. But it’s gorgeous.”

Parker nodded. “It’d look beautiful on you.”

Mel rolled her eyes. “Green isn’t my color.”

They left, walking back towards the car, when Mel saw a little used book store. Parker went in the store next door, and told her to text when she was done.

She browsed the stacks, looking for the copy she’d never find of her favorite book.

She’d always wanted a first or second edition of Emily Dickinson’s complete works, it was a dream of hers since she was a little girl.

“Looking for something?” A woman called, her black hair curled on top of her head. She had to be about 80 years old, but she moved fast.

“I doubt you have it,” she bit her lip. “Ever since I was little, I’ve wanted a first or second edition copy of Emily Dickinson’s works. Not even all of them, just something older. I can never find it.”

“I have just the thing, honey. Come here.” Mel followed the woman behind the counter and down the stairs, trying not to knock any of the stacks of books over.

She fiddled with a drawer for a moment, then made a proud noise. “Got it!”

She turned around and handed her what she’d wanted: a first edition copy of Dickinson’s early works.

“Oh,” she exhaled. “You have it.”

“I do, sweetie. It’s yours, no one has ever asked me for it.”

“How much? I’ll pay whatever—“

“Honey, it’s yours. You take that. I’m getting older, and I want someone to love it as much as my wife and I did.”

This random woman in Boulder had just given her the one thing she’d ever truly allowed herself to want, as small as it probably seemed to her.

Mel’s eyes watered, and she nodded. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“My Millie would have loved this. She passed in ‘09, always wanted someone to give it to. What’s your name?”

“Mel, Melissa.” She smiled.

“Oh, goodness.” She fanned her face, her own eyes watering. “My Millie sent you to me. Can I hug you?”

Mel set down her things and wrapped her arms around the woman, hugging her tightly.

She left the store with tears in her eyes and her favorite book, and when she met with Parker, she didn’t say a word.

— — —

“I don’t know about this,” Mel said cautiously, looking from the pavement to the snow.
“This seems dangerous.”

“That’s half the fun, baby.” Parker winked, stepping on and staking. She stretched out her hand. “Come on, if you fall, it won’t hurt that bad.”

“You wouldn’t catch me?” She squealed, but stepped onto the snow anyway. She could do this.

“Nah, you won’t fall. These are the greens, and we’ll work our way up.”

“Nothing crazy!” She insisted. “I’m nervous.”

“Just remember what the instructor said, go ahead of me.”

She inched forward and crouched, then put her skis in a V. She went down the hill fast, and managed to stop. She whooped loudly, and Parker was down there the next second behind her.

“Fun, right?”

“Let’s go to the next one.”

Parker guided her gently to the next slope, even steeper than the last. When she let go, Mel went forward, and it felt so freeing that she didn’t even notice she was falling until she hit the ground, hard.

She felt her breath loosen from her chest as she wiped the snow from her face, and she laughed, truly laughed, for the first time in months.

Parker crouched down beside her, her eyebrows furrowing as she checked her over. “Why are you laughing?”

“I fell!” She cackled. “I literally fell, and I’m fine!”

“Okay, Mel.” She chuckled. “Can you stand?”

Mel shoved herself up to her knees, burying her hands in the snow. She felt it beneath her fingertips, the softness grounding her in this moment.

“Mel?” Parker prompted. “You good?”

Her eyes traced the powder beneath her, lingering on her green gloves. She took in the sight of Parker kneeling beside her, her face bright and her smile just for Mel.

“I’m alive.” She whispered. “I’m real.”

“You are, sweetheart.” Parker bent down beside her, taking her face in her hands. “You’ve always been real.”

And, well. Mel couldn’t help it.

She surged forward and kissed her, their lips both chapped and cold from the weather, and she felt a part of her release. Her skin felt simultaneously burning up and freezing—a dichotomy she’d never experienced, and she was certain she’d never feel it again.

Parker, never one to avoid responsibility, pulled her closer by the waist, their noses knocking together and a laugh escaping her chest. She pulled away, her smile bright. “Been waiting a long time for that.”

“How long?” She breathed out.

“Long enough.”

“Hey!” Someone yelled, and Mel jumped. “Get off the slopes if you’re gonna make out!”

Parked tucked her head into Mel’s shoulder and chuckled. “Do you still want to ski?”

“Is it bad that I do?” She laughed. “I want to see how far I can go before I get tired.”

– – –

Once they were finally done with skiing, they found themselves tucked into a small booth of a non-descript restaurant. It was homey, the booths torn in places and the lighting dim. They had real menus and it smelled like burnt oil and peanuts, and Mel loved it.

“So,” Parker cleared her throat. “Where do we go from here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Where do we go? We kissed, we’ve spent time together beyond where we were. Things have changed, and I want to know where your heads at.”

Mel hadn’t thought that far ahead, but she found she was okay with that. She had found what she came to Colorado for, even if it was a different path than she’d originally settled on. She didn’t feel like she was just a doctor anymore, she felt tangible. She hadn’t heard the monitors again. She’d just…been Mel King.

“Can I be honest?” Parker nodded, and her focus on Mel felt electric in a way she’d grown accustomed to. “I don’t know where we’re going. I’ve been a caretaker for eleven years, a doctor for three of them. I’ve never just been on my own. I’ve certainly never had time to be in a relationship.” She laughed. “But I like you, and have for a long time. I want to see where it goes, without forcing it. Is that okay with you?”

Parker smiled at her, taking her hand. “I’m down for whatever, as long as you’re there.”

She flushed, rolling her eyes. “You charmer.”

They ate dinner together in companionable silence, all smiles and laughs, and Mel felt like she could fly.

— — —

The air in the room felt stilted and warm, the way a room could only feel with two people who wanted each other could make it feel.

Parker slipped behind her, her hand grazing her stomach as she brushed her teeth. She did the same thing, each taking turns washing their faces and trading kisses between steps. They smiled stupidly at each other, and Mel took the time to really look at her.

The way her eyes had a mischievous look, like she had a joke that would piss someone off. The way her smile made her face light up, crows feet appearing in the way they only did on happy people who loved life. The slope of her neck, the muscles blending into her shoulders beneath her tanktop.

God, she was the most beautiful person in the world.

Parker set down her towel, pointing at Mel. “You’re staring.”

Mel shrugged. “Nice view.”

She slipped her arms around Mel’s waist, her own going up and tangling around her shoulders. Parker’s nose brushed against hers, and the soft press of her lips followed.

They traded kisses back and forth, slowly getting more heated, until Mel was pressed against the countertop. Parker’s hands tangled in her shirt, and she broke apart with a gasp.

“Bed?” Her eyes were dark, and she looked over Mel with barely concealed arousal. Mel nodded, and Parker kissed her again, her tongue sliding along Mel’s lips, and Mel opened for her easily.

They made their way to the bed, Parker spinning them and pulling her into her lap, her knees settling around her hips. Parker’s fingers pressed into her hips, her touch bruising. She hissed lightly, and Parker pulled back.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I forgot.” Mel placed her hands on Parker’s face, forcing her to look at her.

“I’m okay, relax.” She slipped her hands down, pulling off her shirt and tossing it to the floor. Parker’s eyes widened, her lips parting. Mel took her hands, pulling them to hold her breasts.

Parker’s thumbs moved over her nipples with easy grace, as though it was her main goal to ruin her. Mel arched into her touch, whining softly.

“There she is,” Parker breathed. “So pretty.”

Then, she leaned down and wrapped her lips around one, tugging lightly on the other. Mel’s fingers threaded into her hair, just settling there, tethering her to earth.

Parker lavished her breasts, sucking marks all over and moving up to her neck, placing bruising kisses all the way up to her jaw, and Mel didn’t care that they’d be visible. She wanted tangible evidence that this happened, that this was real.

Mel pushed her back, pulling at her shirt until Parker chuckled, taking it off herself. Mel pressed her hands into her chest, tracing the slopes of her breasts and watching Parker’s breath stutter.

“If I don’t get my hands on you soon, I’m going to go insane, baby.” She said lowly, gripping her waist.

“Nothings stopping you–” Parker rolled them over, pulling her underwear down and pulling her legs over her shoulders. Mel’s thighs tightened reflexively, and the first press of her tongue felt like heaven.

“Knew you’d taste good,” she murmured into her cunt, and Mel moaned at the vibration. Parker’s mouth was something out of a book, her teeth grazing lightly over her and sucking her clit in softly. Mel’s fingers pulled her in closer, and Parker moaned.

“Fingers,” She gasped. “Fingers, please–”

Parker gently eased in, and she sighed in relief, but her body felt like a live wire. Her skin was flushed all over, and she wanted nothing more than to be right here, being taken apart slowly.

Parker pulled herself back, her thumb taking over for her mouth on her clit, and kissed her. Their tongues wrapped around each other and Mel whimpered into her mouth, hiking her leg over Parker’s shoulder. It was deeper, and it felt so good, better than anything she’d ever felt.

“You know, I thought about this.” Parker said, her teeth catching on her earlobe. Mel whimpered, her hands tightening in her locs. “Thought about what kind of noises you’d make, if you were loud or quiet. If you would try to hold yourself off, maybe thinking this’d be a one time thing.” She bit softly below her jaw, soothing it with her tongue. “Hope you know I’m never going to not want you. Just like this, making a mess all over my—“

The pressure built so quickly in her core that she barely had time to think before she came, her mouth spilling out a nonsensical stream of words, Parker’s name going over her tongue enough times to sound insane.

Parker pulled out slowly, sticking her fingers in her mouth and moaning at the taste. “That was the best I’ve ever had.”

Mel fought hard to catch her breath, pulling Parker down to settle over her body. She wanted to stay like this–stuck in this moment, like a bruise that never went away. She wanted to be with her, never worry about anything, as long as she felt the way Parker’s eyes settled on her, and her only.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart.” Parker whispered, kissing her cheek. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Mel’s eyes closed, her breath slowing. When she fell asleep, she dreamed of Parker’s eyes on her in the middle of an airport, pulling her up from the floor, that easy smile just for her.

Twelve months later

“Pass me the tube—no, not that one.” Mel took the correct one out of her med student’s hand, sighing forcefully. “You know how to decide what size tube, right?”

Aaron swallowed, his already pale face going a spectacular shade of white. “Yes, I just—“

“I mean this gently, okay? You need to know how to do that. This is a fifteen year old. That tube would’ve been too big.” She checked her end tidal, nodding. “Can you call surgery?”

Jesse nodded, looking at Aaron again. “She’s going to be nice about this, but when you have Santos tomorrow, she will not be. Study tonight.”

Aaron left the room then, and Mel heard the faint sound of laughter from behind her.

There stood Parker, her scrubs clean and smile soft. “You’re too easy on these kids.”

“They need to learn, not be cussed out. That’s for Trinity or Langdon to do, and she’s grouchier than usual. Garcia is being a ’fucking twat,’ her words, not mine.” She tossed her gloves in the trash, grinning up at her. “Hi.”

Parker pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Hi, sugar. Got something for you.”

“A present? Why didn’t you wait till we got home?” She rolled her eyes.

“Couldn’t wait.” She handed her an envelope, decorated with various stickers. “Sorry, Ellie got into it.”

Parker’s niece, Ellie, was spending the winter break with them. She was five, and the most hyperactive child Mel had ever met. Becca and her spent most of their days trading barbs back and forth while Mel watched, and Parker laughed.

“Ellie is forgiven, only because these are paw patrol stickers.” She pulled the flap gently, pulling out two tickets.

PIT to DEN

Tickets to Denver?

“What’s this?” She whispered.

“Happy anniversary, honey. We leave in a week.” She rested her hands lightly on the sides of her neck, thumbing over her pulse. “Think life might be better there?”

She paused, just for a second, thinking over the last year together. All of the ups and downs, tears, and shared meals in easy quiet. The escape she had been seeking—it was never Colorado. It was Parker Ellis, in her bra and underwear, eating cereal at her kitchen counter. Parker Ellis, doing Mel’s laundry on her day off, taking care to separate lights from darks. Parker Ellis, learning that her skin would hurt if she rubbed the same spot too many times, and the way she never made Mel feel like she wasn’t important.

“Life is better wherever I am with you.”