Hello. Here's a new multi-chapter story that will be a bit different from everything Zade related I've written. Here we'll start with the characters at about the same age the show started, but the circumstances will be different. Firstly, Zoe is not Harley's daughter and she'll arrive to BlueBell because different reasons. Secondly... you will be surprise. Hopefully. It'll start slow, but hopefully next chapter will be longer according to my plans.

Away From Nothing

- 1/? -

"So what do you think?"

Zoe looked up from the rapidly cooling risotto on her plate to her boyfriend. She had to place a tight and awkward smile on her face. It took all her might to look sincerely excited at the proposition George was making. After all, he had made an effort by consulting her first. And they were at Per Se having dinner – their favorite restaurant had to mean something, right?

"Just a visit?" she asked meekly, suppressing a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

Back when they had met – almost a year and a half before – she loved how well-mannered and genuinely nice George was. She immediately knew he wasn't a born-and-raised New Yorker, even if he managed to go around the city without many problems. He did confessed he had been robbed twice by some sweet old ladies who took advantage of his gentlemanly ways, but it was part of the charm. Obviously, she didn't believe all Southern boys were like him, but he blamed it all on the quaint little town he came from and its people. Such town was BlueBell, and he was currently trying to convince her to go there and meet his family and friends.

His smile grew wider, and she wondered if his cheeks were already hurting.

"A few days. I'm sure you'll love it. And, well we do need some time off." He frowned and fidgeted in his seat. "I've barely seen you this last couple of weeks."

It is what happen when you date a doctor, she wanted to rebut, but it would remind them of the same impasse they've had since the beginning. Zoe had few nights off, and George had to socialize with New York's elite in order to keep climbing up the ladder of law business. She generally couldn't go with him, and the nights off, she'd rather stay in and eat take-out so her swollen feet could rest.

Not even bothering to answer his clearly accusatory comment, Zoe only treated herself with another bite of delicious food before telling him, "My residency is almost over, so I should get a vacation of sorts."

He nodded contently. "Good. Then I'll make a few calls tomorrow and we should be on our way soon."

"Soon," she repeated with some tiredness.

At first the similarities between them had seemed a blessing. They were much focused in their careers, and understood the ambition and hunger they had for success, but that understanding suddenly made them fall into a rut. Zoe loved George, but she couldn't remember the last time he had forced her to don a nice dress and have a late night out, dancing… well, he didn't dance because as most lawyers apparently, George had two left feet. And she had to admit that his agreeable nature unnerved her at times, even if she got away with almost everything.

That night they were at Per Se because her mother had forced them to take her reservations. It was all paid for. It wasn't as if they were cheapskates, but when something like expensive dinner was free, you took it. And even if her mother didn't quite like George's placid nature, she supported her decision. And, anyway, who partied harder than Candice Hart? Sure not Zoe!

"Do you think your mom wants to come with us?"

Zoe had to press a hand over her mouth not to splutter her food all over George and the table.

"You want to invite her?"

"I just thought-"

She snorted a laugh, scoffing. "No. She won't ever set foot ten miles around a cow. Besides, I kind of thought it was something between you and me. A getaway."

"Right. Sure," George replied nervously, straightening his tie. "I just thought it would be nice."

Yeah. Yup, Zoe knew he realized Candice didn't really like him, but he was trying too hard, and her mother thought that was even worse. She often told her he was so sweet it was sickening. Zoe had other perception of things. After all, her parents had split up almost twenty years before, so they clearly had all the wrong ideas about relationships and commitment.

What Zoe and George had was good. Great. It was great! Just great. Which was why she couldn't understand the reasons they were having such a hard time finding time to spend together – and she really didn't feel like making the effort. By the looks of it, George felt the same way, but there wasn't a way to find out, considering she avoided conflict as much as possible. She firmly believed that by not fighting, they could keep a stable and healthy relationship. That, combined with George's nature, kept them like a very happy yet dull couple.

Proof of the rut they had fallen into was the simple ritual of going to bed at night.

They had rented a beautiful little apartment in Midtown with a nice view and not very far from their jobs. She had taken some time decorating it and making quite relaxing shopping trips to Pottery Barn – since she gave up once they bought a bookshelf at Ikea and George had never made the time to put it together and after her failed attempts, well, she ended up throwing the thing away. Still, she loved it, but sometimes it felt as if she lived there alone. George just let himself be dragged by her flow – he hated making big decisions like what color their kitchen should be or if he liked the new coasters or not.

So when he asked if she wanted to spend a couple of weeks away in BlueBell, Zoe was understandably weary. But she had to go with him. She barely knew his family and he spoke so highly of the tiny town in nowhere Alabama, that it was the least she could do. The only problem was she had forgotten to mention she hadn't gotten the position in the internship for cardiothoracic surgery. And yes, she had just forgotten, and by the time she remembered it, she was afraid to turn around in bed and tell him. George could've been sleeping.

She would need to figure her next step soon. But she had all the time in the world, considering they were about to travel south and, who knew? Things could change for the better. Right? Right?!

[…]

"A truck?" Zoe mumbled, a little surprised to see that red massive pick-up truck waiting for them outside Mobile's airport. "Are we getting on that thing?"

George grinned like a child in front of a long awaited Christmas present. She could tell he missed this, the sun and driving around. In New York he never saw the sun unless it hid between skyscrapers. And driving was a big no if he wanted to be in time anywhere, plus they didn't have a parking spot.

Some guy in washed black jeans that had obviously seen better times, work boots with scuffed toes and a white cotton tee was leaning against the side of the monstrous and slightly frightening pick-up truck. He seemed as tall as George, but the wiry built and sun-kissed skin that contrasted against his dark blonde hair and deep green eyes. The white self-sufficient smile on his face only helped him to look like the poster boy for some macho brand, like cigarettes or trucks or whatever. She wasn't good at picking up those things. Zoe was good at noticing he was handsome though.

George snickered before letting go of his suitcase and approaching the young Clint Eastwood wannabe to hug him, slapping him twice in the back and exchanging a few greetings.

"I thought you would appreciate the gesture of having the old truck back," cowboy said, as he stood straighter with his hands in the pockets of his pants.

George chuckled. "Wow, this – yes! It's been so long. I'd love to drive this beauty." He glided a hand along the fender and smiled. For the first time in a couple of months, Zoe could tell George felt genuinely happy, but she wasn't sure what this was all about.

"Mind telling me what's going on here?" she interrupted and both men turned to face her. For some ludicrous reason, the stranger's stare felt heavier on her than George's.

"Oh, sure. Of course." George moved closer to her and then introduced them. "Wade, this is Zoe Hart, doctor and my beautiful girlfriend. Zoe, this is Wade Kinsella, one of my oldest friends in BlueBell and bartender at the finest establishment in town. And that! That's my truck." He seemed enamored with the vehicle that to her it looked like it belonged to a country song video.

Wade smirked again when he outstretched his hand for her to shake it. "Yankee girl. Oh, well, that'll be interesting, Miss City Doctor."

She narrowed her eyes at him, feeling a sudden surge of anger. "Yes, well, not everyone can stay around and practice techniques on how to tip a cow."

George's cheeks tinted pink as he laughed awkwardly. Meanwhile, Wade laughed whole-heartedly, clearly enjoying her response.

"Yeah. We cow-tippers are like that. We enjoy a cold beer and a butt free of sticks." She gaped at his reply, but before she could come up with a better answer, Wade was loading their bags in the bed of the truck. "Now, if the Doc is ready, we should leave. I have a shift about to start and if we don't get there on time, cows might not be easy to push."

Funnily enough, George seemed to be flustered enough not to intervene in the bickering. He just asked for the keys and wondered if the road was just like he remembered. He didn't even care to squeeze her between him and his old friend Wade – and she soon realized Wade didn't care to sit with his legs a little more tightly closed. For a moment she wanted to ask if he had a problem between his legs that didn't allow him to keep them together, but she soon refrained herself from saying that aloud, afraid of what he could tell her.

She flushed from head to toe when she started to notice that Wade's presence overpowered George's. She blamed it to the strong smell of woodsy aftershave and grass or dirt, maybe even sweat. At her left, she could barely smell George's Armani Code, and he wasn't paying attention to her, so they must've been even. How could anyone love a truck so much?

"So for how long are you going to be in town?" Wade asked. He had his elbow propped on the passenger door, the window rolled down and the warm breeze carrying in his scent with more persistence than before.

She was about to reply that only a few days, when George merrily answered, "Two weeks."

"Two weeks?" she squeaked and Wade snorted a laugh.

George glanced her way, brow furrowed. "You said you had all that time off, so I thought you told me that to schedule them on our trip."

Wade made a rude noise, mocking her.

She wasn't very fond of the guy, and much less now.

Zoe pursed her lips and pulled the fakest smile she could. "That's okay. I have the time." And she did, considering she had to find a new job – preferably as a family doctor to improve her bedside manners apparently if she wanted any chance at getting that internship next time.

"So when's the party, because I have a few things to work out to have time-" Wade said next, and before he could finish, George glared at him that way he always did when something wasn't happening according to his plans. It always amused Zoe to see his lips pressed tightly together and his cheeks popping out as if he were a four year old about to scream and demand something.

"Party?"

George snickered guiltily. "It's just a welcome party. My parents wanted to do a little something."

"And they rented the old Chapman Farm House for that?" Wade babbled, but one more look from George shut him up. "Gee, sorry. Seems New York did a number on you."

As they neared the town, Zoe watched with some strange dread and disgust how extremely lovely the place was. Houses were well-kept with perfect front yards and full of flowers and colors everywhere. People moved at incredible slow speed, and there were available parking spaces, children playing on the streets and old people gallivanting around. It was the opposite of New York, considering she had only seen a couple of buildings over two stories.

"Welcome to BlueBell," George said as a smile split his face in two.

She swore she tried to smile, but perhaps she didn't manage to do it, because Wade leaned closer to her and told her, "First couple of drinks are on me."

She might've started to like him after all.