I bet you thought I was done with Christine's wedding. Nope. You know what happens at weddings? Old friendships are reignited and sometimes, they become something else.
Zach and Petra have a story. This is how it began (again).
(Neither Booth nor Brennan appear in this chapter.)
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The sound of another car pulling into the driveway barely penetrated her consciousness, struggling as she was with the handle of the front door, arms full of more bags and packages than two people might have held. The tanned arm stretching above her head to grab the corner of the door's frame took her by surprise.
"I got it."
She relaxed at the familiar tone of the rumbling bass voice. "Thanks, Mr. B." Petra laughed as she tried to shift the burden she carried. "I probably should have made two trips to get everything but . . ." An easy smile on her face, she glanced over her shoulder and followed the length of the arm past the rolled-up sleeve of the white shirt that clothed it. Her voice faded away, her chin dropped as shock held her silent for a full thirty seconds; silently, her gaze traveled down the long length of the man behind her, then slowly back up again. When she was finally able to speak, she could only exclaim, "Zach?!"
The brown eyes smiled at her before his lips followed suit. "Petra, right?"
Forgotten, the door fell closed once more when she turned on the small front porch to face him. Her mouth hung open until she closed it with a click of her teeth. "Um . . . wow," she managed, after another quick sweep of his tall frame. "You - you're . . ." She shook her head and tried to gather her scattered thoughts. "How long has it been?"
"High school, I guess." Zach shrugged and reached out to relieve her of the largest parcel she carried. "Ten years?" Beneath the cotton of the button-down shirt he wore, hard ropes of muscle moved with his shoulders as he lifted another bag from her boneless arms.
Petra knew her mouth was hanging open again and couldn't do anything about it, caught up as she was in simply staring at him. He towered over her petite frame, inky black hair falling casually across his forehead, accenting the deep-set dark eyes and square, chiseled jaw he'd inherited from his father. The faintest hint of an afternoon's growth of beard shadowed his cheeks. She swallowed in an attempt to bring moisture to her suddenly dry mouth. "You grew up!" she blurted out abruptly, the words almost an accusation. Her heartbeat skittered and thumped when he grinned in response.
"Well, I was 14," he laughed. "It happens." His lashes lowered as he gave her tiny figure the same appraising once-over she'd given him, his gaze warming with appreciation for the dusky golden skin revealed by the sunny yellow dress she wore. "You haven't changed at all, though." His eyes glinted playfully when he added, "Except for the hair."
She responded to the teasing flirtation instinctively. With one hand now free, she brushed at the silken brunette fringe that clung to her scalp. "Do you like it?" she dimpled. "My kids think I look like Tinkerbell!"
Zach shifted the bags in his arms to a more comfortable position. "Kids?" he questioned curiously.
"I'm a teacher," Petra responded. "First grade, at Summerset Academy in Alexandria."
"Ah." He looked her over again and nodded in approval. "I bet you're good at that."
Touched, she blinked in surprise. "Thank you!" She smiled as her fingers grazed the warm skin of his arm. "I am! I love it!" she admitted without reservation. "The children are so much fun, and everything is a game! They don't even know they're learning!"
"Sounds perfect for you." He widened his stance and perched one bag on his hip, above the belt of the low-slung jeans he wore.
Several long seconds passed in silence while they stared at each other, before Petra realized no one had spoken.
"So," she chirped quickly and tried to ignore the butterflies that trembled in her midsection. "Christine said you're all done with medical school. You're a real doctor now, huh?"
His head dipped as his lips curved up in a crooked smile "They gave me a stethoscope and everything."
Dimples danced again in her cheeks. "Wow," she breathed, widening her eyes dramatically. "That must -"
"Petra!" The strident female voice rang out from inside the house, above the tapping of high heels against a hardwood floor. "How long does it take to get a few bags from the car, for crying out -"
The screen door hit Petra in the back as it was pushed open abruptly; ignoring the other woman, her attention on the tall, dark stranger, Madison stepped out on the porch. "Zach?!" The shocked tone of the question betrayed her amazement at the transformation of the skinny young boy she remembered.
Straightening to his full height, Zach nodded at the beautiful blonde without smiling. "Madison."
She gazed hungrily at his lean figure, a hungry gleam in her icy blue eyes. "Well," she purred, "someone's been drinking his milk." When she smiled, every tooth shone. "Christine said you were coming home early for the wedding." One keen glance took in the bags he and Petra both held. "Don't tell me Petra has you doing her work again?" she tsked loudly. "Some things never change, do they?" She stepped closer and curled blood red fingernails around his arm. "We're all so busy finishing up plans for the dinner tonight but I'm sure your mom would love to see you." Her grip on him firm, Madison dragged him inside the house. "So tell me all about your medical practice, it sounds fascinating!"
Swallowing a surprising sense of disappointment, Petra silently fell in behind them.
Just then, Zach looked back over his shoulder. "Help me!" he mouthed silently, his eyes dancing with laughter as he pulled a rude face and tilted his head toward the chattering blonde at his side.
Petra bit back a smile and, her step suddenly lighter, hurried to catch up.
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Did you know Scarlett O'Hara was almost named Pansy? True story. Margaret Mitchell's editors hated the name she'd chosen for her heroine, though, and convinced her to change it. When MM went searching for a better name, she realized it was already there, in the family histories and backstory she'd written for the O'Hara family.
Why am I telling you this? Because it leads into my explanation for Petra and Zach. Because my fanfic uses the same core group of characters, I have character sketches for almost everyone. What kind of person each one is, traits and foibles, funny habits I want to bring out, where I see their lives heading, etc. Those sketches help keep me organized and allow me to throw in random details that I can pull out again as I jump around in the timeline. I have a sketch for everybody, including random characters I haven't figured out how or where to use yet (that's how Harland was born, if you remember him from "Once Upon A Summer").
For a long time, a spouse for Zach was the only person I couldn't "see" and it really bothered me. I love my Zach, bless his heart. I've been cruel to him, really. I made him super smart and then I ripped him away from friends his own age and stuck him with a bunch of older kids who treat him like an annoying gnat. I gave him a lonely childhood, which sucks, even if he has the consolation of a home full of love and warmth.
So I wanted to make it up to him and give him his own happily ever after, but the problem was that I couldn't see his wife. When I decided it was time to get serious about her, I reread everything I've posted, stuff I haven't posted, outlines for chapters that may or may not get posted, lists of ideas, etc. into infinity and what I noticed was that Petra kept popping up. Not in a major way, but she seemed to always be hanging out, having her little moments. That's when it hit me - I was writing her for Zach and just didn't know it. There I was, spilling blood and ink trying to come up with a new character who would fit in with my R&W family and Petra was already there, quietly waiting for me to notice her.
Note to self: don't try to be clever. It doesn't work.
Anyway, I thought some of you might find that little tidbit interesting. Or not, in which case this was the longest waste of an AN ever. :-)
Thanks for reading!
