This is an old, old, old, old story and, against my better judgement, I will not be taking it down. I realize that character and the plot development may be lacking. So read at your own risk.

Also, I read all reviews even though this story is over and now that I'm back from Hiatus, I'll even try and respond to them all (just remember to sign in so I can send you a PM!)

Title: Sitting, Wishing, Waiting
Author: Vaudeville
Rating: M; due to language and Adult Situations
Date Started: August 27th, 2008
Summary: He's a millionaire playboy. She's a girl who's just trying to get by. They were best friends growing up but five years can really change a person.

Five Years Ago

"Deacon, this is so not fair," Boyd LeBlanc whined.

Deacon Hart turned in his seat to look at his best friend. "Cry about it, LeBlanc."

Boyd pouted, knowing she probably wouldn't get her way. Deacon was very stubborn when it all came down to it. He was very used to getting his way.

"It is my birthday," she said, trying one last time to convince Deacon that she really did not want to go to this party.

"Yeah, you're eighteen now. That means that you need to go to at least one party before we graduate." Deacon grinned.

He turned his eyes back onto the road and laughed when he heard her groan.

"I'm really not going to get my way, am I?" She asked, running her hand through her cropped brown hair.

"No, Ma'am," Deacon responded.

"You are officially the worst best friend ever."

"Don't I know it."

The remainder of the ride was silent; Deacon smiling over his win and Boyd pouting over her loss.

Boyd realized she really had no idea where they were actually going as the black Porsche sped down the highway. She eyed the speedometer as it reached nearly one hundred and forty. Her hand clenched on her seatbelt. Deacon must've noticed because he let out a gruff chuckle.

"Relax, Boyd. I'm an excellent driver."

She harrumphed. "No, you're just spoiled."

He chuckled again but otherwise ignored he comment. He'd been told many times by many people that he was spoiled and the only time that he never took offense to it was when Boyd said it, except when he saw that small smile begin to form on her face.

Deacon finally pulled off the highway and turned onto a long gravel road. Boyd couldn't help it when goose bumps started to appear on her arms.

"Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?" She asked.

"Yeah." He smirked.

She didn't respond and he pulled the sports car up behind a long line of cars on the side of the road.

"C'mon, you big baby, get out of the car," Deacon said, undoing his seatbelt and opening his door.

"Are you going to drink tonight?" Boyd asked as they walked up the gravel road to a brightly lit cabin. She could hear the bass pounding from the sound system already.

"Are you up to driving home?"

Boyd couldn't afford a car and Deacon liked to get piss drunk at parties, so he usually convinced Boyd to drive him in his car. This was the reason he'd taught her to drive standard. And Boyd didn't complain because she got to drive his Porsche.

"I guess."

He put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned her head against his. She was tired. She'd been working double shifts as a waitress at the truck stop for the past couple of weeks to earn money for university. It took a lot of convincing on Deacon's part to talk her out of bed and to accompany him to the party.

"We won't stay long," Deacon said, sensing her exhaustion.

She smiled at him. "Good, I have a History test on Monday."

"Happy Birthday, LeBlanc."

.o.

Boyd could hear her cell phone going off and she really didn't want to answer it but it just kept ringing. She pried her tired eyes open and found the digital clock by her bed. It was 2:30 AM. There was only one person that would call her that late and she hated him for it. She'd worked at the diner until one this morning and was aching for a good night's sleep. The dark circles under her eyes would attest to that.

She reached across her bed and grabbed the still ringing phone. She brought it up to her ear and she could her loud music coming through on the other side.

"What?" Now was not the time to be polite. Almost three in the morning never was.

"Boyd." Deacon's voice was hoarse and quiet. She had hardly ever heard him sound like that and when she did it was only when he was really upset. She knew something was up.

"Deacon? What's wrong?" She sat up quickly, trying to get her bearings.

"Can I come over?"

Boyd pushed her hair back from her face. "Yeah."

Her response was met with a dial tone. She pressed end on her phone and set it to the side. What was up with Deacon? He knew she wasn't sleeping well and he wouldn't have woken her up if it wasn't for a good reason. Her feet touched the cold hardwood. She padded to her second floor window and opened it. They'd done this many times, in and out; Climbing up, or down, the trellis on the side of the house.

With this done, Boyd sat on the bed waiting for her best friend to climb through her window. She assumed that he was in his car and on his way here, blasting some Metallica, which he played whenever he was upset. She didn't have to worry about waking her mother up because she was working the late night shift at the hospital.

Deacon never did end up climbing through her window. Instead, her cell phone began ringing again. She answered it quickly, starting to get worried. Everywhere in this town was ten minutes away from everywhere else.

"Deac?"

"Do you think you can come down?" he asked his voice still quiet.

She answered in the affirmative before hanging up and pulling a warm hoodie over her head. There was no reason for her to bother to climb down her trellis, so she just went out the front door. Deacon was waiting for her in his car.

"What's wrong?"

Deacon didn't answer. He just threw the Porsche in reverse and backed out of her driveway. Boyd knew that he would talk when he wanted to. And now was not that moment, so she stayed quiet until he pulled into Inspiration Peak.

Inspiration Peak was exactly was exactly what the name implied. The teens of their small town had no imagination and had dubbed the cliff over-looking the park as such. It's where all the kids went to get lucky. Boyd knew that this was not Deacon's intention. She liked the view and, to her, the inspiration came from that. Hanging out with her had caused Deacon to develop an appreciation for the view too.

"I'm leaving."

Boyd smiled. "What? We just got here."

"I'm going away for university," he said. Obviously he was not in the mood to joke.

"Yeah? Your point?" She already knew that he was going to the next town to go get his business degree.

"No, Boyd, I mean, I'm really going away. My dad is sending me to England."

Boyd didn't know what to say. The smile on her face slowly died as she tried to comprehend what her best friend was saying. It was almost as if he hadn't even spoken. She wasn't even sure that her ears were functioning properly.

"What?" She felt stupid. That seemed to be the only word that she knew.

"I'm going to England."

This morning, Boyd had woken up to a letter on her table. It was from the art school that she had applied to earlier that year. She'd been accepted but there was a problem. She had no money. She was flat broke and her mother was in the exact same boat. But, there was no way that she was telling Deacon that. Not when he'd dropped this ball.

"Boyd, say something."

"Are you okay with this?" She tried to hold the tears out of her voice.

Deacon was silent for a moment, thinking carefully about his answer. "Yeah, I am. I really have been looking forward to working for Dad's company."

Well, that was it, Boyd found herself thinking. If Deacon was happy, then she would be too.

She plastered a smile on her face. "You'll have to write every day."

"Boyd," Deacon seemed to be at a loss for words. "I'm okay about going but not about leaving you. You're my best friend."

Once again, Boyd found herself not able to respond. She watched as the sun began to rise in the east. There were many beautiful things in this world, and this was one of them.

"It's beautiful," she said.

He smiled slightly. "I bet you wish you had your camera."

She nodded but did not tear her eyes away from the beautiful oranges and yellows that seemed to outline the leaves on the trees. She left tears begin to form in her eyes.

"Boyd, seriously, you freak me out when you're this quiet. Will you say something?" Deacon said.

She finally was able to drag her eyes away from the rising sun and toward her best friend's face. Scruff had begun to form on his chin. She raised a hand and traced a finger along his sculpted cheekbone; her brown eyes meeting his green.

He found himself leaning toward her and in one slow but smooth movement, his lips meeting hers. The kiss was sweet and soft and made Boyd want to cry. His hands came up to cup her face and hers buried themselves in his feathery light, brown hair.

Soon enough, they had to pull apart for need of air. Deacon rested his forehead against hers. She could feel his breath on her face and their noses were touching.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. She noticed his breath smelled like rum.

One tear slid down her cheek. That kiss hadn't been the start of a relationship; it had been the end of a friendship.

Although, neither seemed to know it.

A/N: Title of the story is Sitting, Waiting, Wishing by Jack Johnson.

Chapter Edited and Rewritten: June 12th, 2009

Hey there Chickadees and Chickadon'ts

And so, the time has come. I've OFFICIALLY begun the rewrite of Sitting, Waiting, Wishing. It's been a long time coming, yes?

I've taken down the rest of the chapters and will be reposting them when they are done being edited and rewritten. Sorry to all those that were in the midst of reading but just thank the lord that you didn't have to read the plot hole and poor grammar riddled mess that was up before.

I'm not sure how quickly I'll be able to get these chapters back up as I'm in the midst of two other stories and I've started my second year of university. I'm thinking that this should be done around Christmas but don't take my word for it. We'll see how the work load goes.

A huge thank you to all those who added me to alerts (story & author), those who favourited (again, story & author), and those who reviewed. I was trying to personally respond to all the reviews but I didn't have my computer or the internet for a while so it kind of got out of hand. So, to all those who did review and didn't get a response, I DID READ YOR REVIEW AND I APPRECIATE EVERY SINGLE WORD YOU GUYS TYPE. WHOOOP, whoooopp!

And, I've been using my livejournal a lot more, so if you guys are interested in the progress of anything or the extra information on any of my stories, you could check that out. There's a link in my profile. ALSO, there is a link to character pictures to all of my stories there too.

Thanks for all the support guys! It really means a lot. And with those as my final parting words, I'm off to remedy all those glaring mistakes.

-vaudeville