So I've loved Bones for a very long time now and I especially love Zack. I was seriously heartbroken when they made him a murderer and sent him to the looney bin--not cool. Anyway, I've been working on some ideas for a Bones fanfic with Zack being the love interest and well, this is it. I'm not entirely how things will go or if people will like this, but I'm gonna give it a go. Thus, this is Zack centric with my own OC and it mostly be following the main plotline of seasons one, two, and three--I will tweak the whole Gormagon thing. So here's chapter one and please tell me what you think. Please, review. Thank you.
Chapter One: One Night
One night.
Just one night.
That's all her friends were asking for. Just one night to cut loose and have fun at the local and popular club Rush. And they desperately wanted her to come. She wanted to go as well, especially since it was Meghan's bachelorette party, but there was small problem with her going clubbing with them…
"What about Cheryl?" Kristen Faust asked warily, turning to the four girls. They were all standing in her living in the apartment that the twenty-one-year-old blonde girl shared with her best friend, Austen Bloom—he was at the bachelor part for Isaac Manson, Meghan's fiancé.
Zoey Lambro, the palest and the darkest-haired girl in the group, rolled her hazel orbs with a groan. That was her way of saying that Kristen was being a big worry-wart and was annoying her—the littlest things annoyed the "fake" Goth. On the other hand, Zoey's girlfriend, Charlotte Howell, a positively adorable girl with Shirley Temple blonde girls, and the brunette and brown-eyed bride-to-be, Meghan Yates exchanged looks that clearly meant they had totally forgotten about her stern, overbearing, and crazy foster mother Cheryl Quinn.
"Do you think she'll let you out tonight?" Charlotte asked the darker and longer haired blonde on the couch from the armchair shared with Zoey. Innocent curiosity was visible in her baby blues.
Kristen shook her head, a deep frown on her evenly-colored skinned face. "Doubt it, Lottie. Not on a night before an audition."
"But, Kris, it's my bachelorette party!" Meghan whined, clasping her well-manicured hands together. "It's like one of our last night together! I'm getting married, you're becoming a big TV star, and Lottie and Zo are moving to Vermont in like a month!" she pointed out.
That was all true. Meghan and Isaac were getting married in three days, finally tying the knot even though they were fresh out of college. Charlotte and Zoey were going to transferring colleges to Vermont in little under a month for their sophomore year. Kristen might land a really good acting job as a main character on a fresh new TV show even though she was just a junior in college. Austen, if Kristen got the part, would have to move out of the apartment and find a new one on campus, maybe with his new boyfriend, Max. And the last and oldest member of the group, Lyle Potts, had gotten a job at a really important law firm. The group was basically breaking up, going their separate ways. Sure, they were all really tight and would stay in touch as much as possible, but they were all going in different directions to live the lives they always wanted.
"I understand that, Meg, but you how Cheryl is. She puts most Stage-Moms to shame." Kristen said regrettably, raking her long fingers through her long locks.
Zoey scoffed, blowing her black and pink bangs out of her spectacled eyes from the corner of her mouth. "You're being too nice, Kristen. Cheryl puts Nazis to shame. Why else would we call her the Fuhrer?" she stated. Charlotte and Meghan laughed while Kristen rolled her sea foam green optics—she didn't argue though because it wasn't a lie.
"Either way, Cheryl is not going to let me go out clubbing until the late hours of the night before my big audition tomorrow. She'd kill me. Well, first take away my cell phone, laptop, and car and then, kill me." Kristen sighed deeply, tucking her hands in the back pockets of her faded, holey, and ripped jeans with writing all over them—she was still able to wear them even after all these years.
"Isn't there some way?" Charlotte questioned.
"What about Paul?" suggested her partner.
Kristen arched an eyebrow. "You mean my agent?" Zoey nodded.
"Oh, yeah!" exclaimed Megan in realization. "He totally adores you and in like in love with the Fuhrer, so maybe he can help you out!"
Maybe…, Kristen considered then, she made a face. "No, I couldn't do that him. Make Paul lie to Cheryl. She'd wind up killing him, too."
"Pleeeeeeease, Kris! For me?" Meghan pleaded, grabbing Kristen's hands after standing from the carpeted floor. "Just one night! One night! Paul and you could manage that, right? Please?"
Biting on the bottom of her lip, Kristen stared up at her friend searching her desperate and pretty face. Meghan was like a princess, always wanting things her way and wanting everything, and that was her face to achieve such. Normally, it didn't work on Kristen—or anyone else, but Isaac—but right now was a different story.
I'm sorry, Paul. A small, hesitant grin tugged at the sides of her mouth. "Okay. I'll come."
Charlotte and Meghan cheered while Zoey smirked.
"Great! Now, let's get you into something sexy!" Meghan announced, pulling Kristen to her sneakered feet. The wavy-haired girl started to lead the green-eyed girl to her bedroom.
"Sexy?" Kristen said, apprehension in her voice as her friend dragged her. Zoey and Charlotte followed after them with amused expressions on.
"Of course! You are the only single one amongst us, so we gotta dress ya up so you won't be! Help ya nab a guy while celebrating my marriage! Duh!" Meghan claimed as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
"Uh…but--"
"No buts! This is happening!"
Kristen groaned.
Being killed and having her possessions being taken away by Cheryl sounded more fun than being dolled up and showcased for random, drunk, perverted guys at a club. Nevertheless, she couldn't argue with the high-strung, princess-wannabe, soon-to-be bride, Meghan and Charlotte and Zoey definitely weren't going to stop her—especially Zoey since she was sadistic like that.
Kristen didn't mind dressing up and looking nice—what girl didn't?—but Meghan had pushed it. Meghan's way of dressing up was a bit too skimpy for Kristen's liking, but Meghan didn't care. Kristen was Meghan's Barbie doll that night and she had dressed her in the way she liked ignoring Kristen's protests.
Thus, there Kristen was in an outfit she did not completely agree with on a long line with her friends to get into Rush—after she had called her agent and told him to cover for her, which he did without any agreements.
Don't get her wrong, the outfit was pretty and sexy as Meghan had intended it to be, but it wasn't Kristen's style—Meghan had put her in a red midriff halter top, black leather pants that hung dangerously low on her hips, and black strappy heels. It made her want to cover herself up with her arms while bashfully avoiding any eye-contact with everyone yet, Meghan would whine and Kristen didn't want to hear that. So she just had to suck it up and act like she wasn't self-conscious at all—she could manage that, the young woman was an actor after all.
Slowly, the bouncers allowed—or didn't allow—people into the club. When it was Kristen, Meghan, Charlotte, and Zoey's turn to enter, they showed the bouncers their IDs that they were over eighteen and was permitted entry.
The minute Kristen and her friends stepped inside of Rush, all of her anxiety and embarrassment was whisked away by the glorious environment before her.
The large club was swarmed with drinking, chatting, and dancing people. Neon lights flashed being the only source of light. Techno music was blasted deafeningly on the speakers. The music vibrated in Kristen's chest and pounded in her ears. The scent of alcohol, sweat, and colognes and perfumes ensnared her nose. The blub was filled with such liveliness that it came Kristen a total rush and brought an excited grin to her face—the club certainly lived up to its name.
"Stop standing there like a dumbass, Kris! We gotta grab a table!" Meghan shouted over the music, grabbing Kristen's hand and yanking her towards where Charlotte and Zoey were waiting for them.
How did he let Angela persuade him to come to such a place? The music was far too loud and the place was too crowded. Why couldn't he have just lied and told the artist that she had other things to do like Booth had done? He did not believe lying was a necessary thing to do, but couldn't he just have made an exception just this one time?
The floppy-haired genius Zack Addy tried to avoid situations—or places in this case—like this as much as possible. He could not dance as he had been told many times that he looked like a marionette in the wind, he did not enjoy drinking as he had a very low tolerance for alcohol, and most of all, he didn't like being around so many people at once as it made his pals sweat and him fidget. Thus, joining his mentor, Dr. Temperance Brennan, and his other two friends, Angela Montenegro and Jack Hodgins at the well-know club Rush had been a very illogical choice. Nonetheless, there he was sitting at a black marble table in a black leathered booth with them.
"Zack, sweetie," Angela called to him, her voice loud so she could be heard over the music, sitting across from him. She was giving a comforting smile. "Relax. That's why I brought us here. To relax."
"I realize that." was all the young man said. He was aware that Angela wanted to take her friends and co-workers out to have a little fun compared to what they did at work with dead bodies. However, Zack liked doing what he did for a living, that was fun to him.
"Then, relax." Angela told him.
"I agree," Brennan piped up. Being at a club made the lovely auburn-haired female genius out of her element too, but she understood normal social situations better than her assistant and was trying to enjoy herself. "You could possibly dance and get something to drink, Zack. Those activities may help you relax." she suggested.
"Or maybe you can talk to that girl that keeps looking over here at you." Hodgins smirked, nudging the other male with his elbow.
Zack furrowed his brows. "What girl that keeps looking over here at me?" he inquired confused.
Hodgins stared at him incredulously with his bright blue eyes. "You seriously haven't noticed?"
"No." Zack answered. Hadn't he made that clear when he had made his inquiry of what girl was looking at him?
"The pretty little blonde at the table over there." Angela reiterated, pointing to the said table.
Following the tanned woman's finger with his deep brown eyes, Zack gazed through the gyrating people to the table of four women, whose ages appeared to range from late teens to early twenties. There were two blondes—one of the blondes had longer and darker hair—one brunette, and one inky-haired girl with pink streaks. They were over at them, but when they had noticed Zack staring, they immediately looked away as if they hadn't been looking at all in the first place.
Zack peered back to Angela, Hodgins, and Brennan. "Which blonde? There are two of them." he pointed out.
Angela and Hodgins rolled their eyes in exasperation at how oblivious the graduate student was while Zack frowned at their expressions. Brennan calmly said though, "I think Hodgins and Ange meant the one with the longer hair and the darker skin tone in the crimson top."
At that, Zack peered back to the four women, who glancing over to their table again and focused on the said female his teacher had mentioned.
The said girl had to be at the most four years younger than himself with long, golden tresses that were done to have intricate waves and her bangs were pinned back from her face. Her complexion was light, but darker than his to have an even and natural tan. That allowed her big, sea green spheres to stand out, especially with the amount of make-up done on and around them. She had a small frame, but developed enough for someone her age range—she was quite short though. The flaxen haired was pretty, but one had to look twice and closely to see such.
Seeing him looking right at her, she blushed, her cheeks becoming rosier than the blush placed on them and quickly looked away. That made her friends scold her—or at least that's what it looked like from Zack's point of view, he wasn't sure though—and made her turn back to him and sheepishly smile with a small wave.
Zack blinked a bit astonished. He turned back to his friends. Angela and Hodgins were smirking while Brennan was just watching idly. "Am I…Am I supposed to do something?" Zack asked. So he had confirmed what the other three had said, but what did that mean?
"You talk to her obviously!" Hodgins answered with a deep sigh of frustration.
"But I don't how to initiate such. Would it not be a bit awkward to just walk over to her and her companions' table and try to make conversation?" Zack said. Hodgins shook his head, which made Zack frown again.
"Zack, just go over to the bar and wait for her to come over." Angela suggested with a sweet smile.
"I don't understand how that would help." he said with furrowed brows.
Brennan had the same expression. "How is that rational, Angela? How do you even know she'll go over to the bar as well to speak with him?" she queried.
"Just trust me on this one, okay?" Angela said to her best friend before switching her attention to Zack. "Go over to the bar and wait for her."
He made a face, but nodded. Shifting out of the boot, Zack stood and made his way through the groups of people on the dance floor and headed to the bar. All along the way, the forensic anthropologist was wondering to himself why he was even doing this. He didn't know this girl and yet, he had allowed Angela, Hodgins, and Brennan to convince him to wait for her to come to him to talk. What would that accomplish? The brunet was socially inept and according to Hodgins was inadequate when it came to women. So in other words, this was bound to not end well.
After being coaxed and pushed by an always hyperactive Charlotte, an annoyed Zoey, and an almost drunk Meghan, Kristen was maneuvering and sauntering through dancing men and woman to the club's bar to try and talk to a complete stranger.
She wanted to blame her friends for harassing her until she got up from the table, but, in reality, in had been Kristen's fault. She was the one who had spotted the young man at a table with his friends and had told the others that she thought he was cute.
That was all.
All she had said was that she thought he was cute and that instantly meant to Meghan that Kristen wanted to hook up with the stranger. That being, Meghan kept harassing, with the help of Charlotte and Zoey, Kristen until she caved in and took their advice to join him at the bar and speak to him.
It was a dumb idea, but honestly, what's the worst that could happen? The worst that would happen is that he'd reject her and she'd just return to her friends? No big deal. She was an actress and rejection came with the job, so she could handle it. On the other hand, the short girl still felt nervous to talk to the guy—that was natural, right?
Finally making her way through the crowd on the dance floor, Kristen had reached the bar and spotted the back of the floppy-haired brown-haired man. Her cheeks became heated, but she took a deep breath and smoothed the wrinkles of her shirt before approaching. She stood beside him, pretending that she hadn't noticed him at all and called to the bartender, "A glass of Bailey's Irish Cream, please!"
At the sound of her voice, the man beside her stiffened and glanced to her. When he did, Kristen finally acknowledged him and placed on her sweetest smile. "Hey." she greeted, leaning casually on her arms on top of the counter.
He looked around for a moment before looking back to her as if to make sure she was actually speaking him. Then, he tried his hardest to smile, but it came out awkward and shy. "Hello." he said just loud for her hear.
"So um," Kristen bit her glossed lips, trying to think of the next thing to say. Your name would be nice, assmunch., she scolded herself for being so stupid. "Kristen. Kr-Kristen Faust is my name." she choked out, trying to keep her grin cute. Smooth, Kris, smooth.
"N-Nice to meet you, Kristen. My name is Z-Zack Addy." the brunet he introduced himself a tab hesitantly. Zack mentally cursed himself for stuttering. It was ridiculous to be nervous around the opposite sex, but he was. Why didn't he have the confidence that Agent Booth and Hodgins had with women?
"Cool, cool." Kristen nodded.
Awkward silence fell even when Kristen received her beverage. Kristen played with a strand of wavy hair and Zack cleared his throat.
Ultimately, after finishing her drink, Kristen gathered her confidence and turned to the stiff and blank faced male next to her. "You uh, want to dance?" she asked, jamming her thumb in the direction of the dance floor behind them.
Zack peered over his shoulder and made a slightly uncomfortable face. He looked down at Kristen. "I-I can't dance. I am t-told that I look like a marionette blowing in the wind." he informed her. That made a burst of laughter wrack through her. He stared at her puzzled—he hadn't made a joke, he was being serious. "I do not know what you find so funny." Zack admitted.
"Sorry," she apologized once her guffaws softened to giggles. She didn't sound very apologetic. "But trust me, most straight males don't know how to dance. It's not an uncommon thing. You just need the right teacher. Besides, that type of dancing doesn't need very much skill. I can show you." the light-haired girl offered.
"I don't think--" Zack began uneasily, but Kristen cut him off by grabbing his bigger and lighter hand and shouting happily, "You'll have fun, I promise!" She sounded more confident than she felt.
He didn't believe he would, but he didn't resist as she pulled him onto the dance floor, pushing their way through rhythmically moving people. Once Kristen had found a spot where there was just enough room for them, she faced Zack, who was watching her intently and cautiously.
His body went rigid when she placed his hands on one of hips—his hands were warmer than she had suspected, especially since hers were always cold—and around her lower back and placed one of her knees between both of his so her hips could very slightly press against his. Then, she wrapped one arm around his shoulders and placed her other hand on his forearm. Zack's face became flushed yet, he didn't remove the girl from her, especially when she flashed him a jovial beam. He tried to smile back, but couldn't exactly, unnerved by the woman's close proximity.
"Now, don't worry, Zack. I'll lead first. Just follow the movements of my hips with yours." Kristen instructed, gazing up at him—he was a good head taller than she even with her three inch heels. "Understand?"
Swallowing the thick lump in his throat, Zack nodded numbly. It sounded simple enough and Kristen was going to guide him through it, but he still wasn't entirely sure.
Kristen began moving side to side and Zack attempted to follow. They weren't following the rhythm of the music since Kristen was teaching Zack how to "grind" and that made them look clumsy and stiff. They'd trip every now and then and accidentally step on each other's feet, which Zack would apologize to and Kristen would shake her and say she was just as much at fault since she was a huge klutz. This ungraceful and uncoordinated act went on for a while—for a few songs actually—and the young man was going to tell his dance partner that this whole thing was futile, but stopped when he realized that he was actually starting to get it.
Zack was beginning to follow and move with Kristen. They were moving as one with not as many screw-ups. Kristen must've noticed because she picked up the pace and started to gyrate to the beat of the techno music; Zack kept up with her just as much as possible, mostly because he encouraged by the approving smile that graced the blonde's face. He was even heartened enough to start leading, which she permitted.
And that was how things went for a while. Neither said a word, not knowing what to say nor wanting to distract themselves from the task at hand in case it might mess up—Zack was more afraid of that than Kristen. Zack just tightened his grip around her, pulling her closer—at least as much as he dared to since he had to remind himself she was still basically a stranger. And Kristen complied by gently moving her hand up and down his arm (they were a bit shaky), playing with the strays hair on the back of his head and rested her forehead on his shoulder. Such closeness made the heat in the club increase for the two, their breaths coming out raggedly and a thin sheet of sweat form on their bodies, but they just kept dancing like everyone else.
Sadly, all good things must come to an end…
Someone tapped on Kristen's shoulder causing her to pull away from Zack and for the two of them to stop dancing. Kristen turned to see Zoey standing there with a look of aggravation on her face.
"Kris, we've got a situation." Zoey announced grouchily. Her greenish golden eyes briefly looked to Zack. "What's up, man?" she gave him a curt nod.
"The ceiling." he said without hesitant and an emotionless expression.
Zoey and Kristen looked at him oddly before Kristen turned to her friend. "What's going on, Zo?"
"We gotta bounce. Meghan is piss drunk and she's starting to hit on poles." explained Zoey.
Kristen arched a brow, a look of skepticism on her face. She sighed, shaking her head. "Okay." Her light eyes adverted to Zack, who was staring at them blankly. "Sorry, Zack. I have to go. It was really nice meeting you." she said, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.
The blonde completely stepped away from and started to follow Zoey through the crowd. Zack's hand shot out and grabbed her hand before she disappeared amongst the bodies. Stopping, she curiously looked back at him.
"…Is th-there a method for m-me to contact you?" Zack blurted, retreating his hand quickly to his side.
"Oh!" Kristen mentally hit herself.
How could she have been so stupid? She couldn't believe she was just going to leave without trying to contact him or for him to contact her, so they could hang out more—they seemed to enjoy each other presences after all even though very few words were exchanged.
"Do you have a cell?" she asked.
When he nodded, she asked if he could give it to her. Zack handed it over and Kristen punched in her number before saving it in the mobile's memory. She handed it back to him with a big grin. "Call me." With that, Kristen stood on her tippy-toes, kissed his cheek, and turned on her heels to follow Zoey, Charlotte, and Meghan out of the club.
Zack watched her until she was completely gone blinking. His puppy dog brown eyes looked down at Kristen's number in his phone. A very small smile tugged at his lips.
Maybe it was a good thing he had come to Rush tonight…