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Authors Chapter Notes:
Hey there. this is my first EVER fan fic so... excuse the less than whedon charm. hope you like it. please contact me with your comments.
love ya

joey maley

I’ve Been Waiting –
Chapter 1
‘The Return’.
By Joey Maley

On a dark road, seemingly from nowhere, heading for somewhere. A lonesome, old, Greyhound bus approaches a bustling city. A city of Angels… and demons.

Heading off of the freeway, it enters the city. The bright lights are a stark difference to the darkness of the journey. This city. A city known as Los Angeles. With a high pitched hiss from the hydraulic brakes the bus comes to an almighty stop. With a distorted groan, a man’s voice comes over the speaker:

“Last stop, Los Angeles”.

The doors to the bus swing open, as the only passenger on this 3am arrival departs. With hesitation, and a slight bit of regret, she steps off the bus. Her designer, yet scuffed, boots touch the ground. She feels scared. Scared from the stories she has heard from friends, past and present. But this wasn’t a girl easily scared. Looking like any other in her tight, black pants and crimson red jacket. Red. A colour this girl had seen too many times. A colour of blood. Old blood. This girl, with her shoulder length blonde hair waving in the wind, takes her first step into this city. A city in which last time she was here, argued with the love she lost. And oh, the stories she had heard since last she was here. This was the reason she feared returning to this city. But the Slayer had retuned.

As this frail looking girl hailed a cab, she recalled the conversation she had with Andrew, telling of Spike’s return to form. She could not believe that he was alive, or even that he came to Rome, with Angel no less, and didn’t even say hello. Why? She could not get her head around that. After everything he had said to her. About that being the greatest night he had ever had, or declaring his love for her in the pits of that unspeakable hell. She was confounded. She just wanted to see if the stories were true. These stories, for which Andrew was infamous for. She kept begging herself to try to believe that he made the whole thing up. But she couldn’t. she knew that she couldn’t put her hopes up. She wouldn’t be able to take it one more disappointment.

Oh, the stories. Not 6 months had passed since what had been named ‘The LA battle’ took place. Obviously, the media found some way to spin what had happened. The news of Wesley’s death came as a shock. No body was more upset than Giles. At the funeral, he was blamed for Wesley’s death by his father. Giles knew to just take the blame as Mr Windom-Price was in mourning for his son. But Giles took it bad. It was only when a letter to Giles was found inside Wesley’s inner jacket pocket that the truthfulness of Andrew’s stories came out. Spike was alive, and Buffy had to get him back.

As she got to this remote bar in Los Angeles South Central, she told the driver to stop. She had gotten information of sightings of a bleach blonde man full of charisma. Dressed in that long black leather jacket, with a constant cigarette in his mouth. She was told that he was like a mix between Billy Idol and James Dean. What a way to describe him. Oh, and that accent. Even for the brief time that she spent in London, she had never heard anyone speak like that. They had the same accent, even the same phrases, cursing that he used, but no one was the same. But it wasn’t him… it wasn’t William the bloody, Spike.

What was it about him that infatuated her so? She had been trying to figure this out the entire journey, all the way from London. But she couldn’t find the reason. It didn’t matter what she was doing. She thought about him all the time. Why did he play with her heart, body and soul the way he did? But she couldn’t convince herself. She knew that she was the one who was playing games. He confessed his undying love for her, but why oh why did he not believe her when she said it back. She didn’t even know that it was true herself, until after. It was when she was standing at the mouth of the crater that was once Sunndale. That was the moment she realised that she really did love him. But it was too late to do anything about it.

Buffy recalled the conversation with Andrew once again. The way he kept talking about Spike, his posture, his smile… even his nature. Oh how she hoped that he was here.

Just as she entered the bar, she recognised a smell. It was the smell of stale smoke. Even though Buffy didn’t smoke, she recognised that smell, that brand. But what were the chances. Through the bustle of the bar she heard countless conversations in that LA accent. But no English accent.

She stopped, as a man in a long black leather jacket walked to the bar. Could it be him? Could this be the man of whom she had travelled all of these miles to see? He turned around. To Buffy’s shock it wasn’t him. She got all of her hopes up for that moment. That moment in which she was happy again. she hoped with all her heart and soul that it was him… but it couldn’t be him. It wasn’t.

But then she stopped. She felt a presence. Maybe it was her slayer ability, or just something else, but she felt it none the less. What were the chances? 6 billion people in the world, and she is looking for one. That one.

She recalled the times they spent together. All those nights, just in each others arms. She could not see if the memories were once reality, or if she had dreamt these wondrous times. Please, oh please god let them be true.

She walked by a table full of empty beer bottles, almost knocking one over. In an instant she snatched it from the air, faster than anyone could see and put it back on the table. She was pleased that she hadn’t lost her touch whilst training the potentials. She smiled to herself, as just for a moment she forgot about him. Then his image came back into her mind. And there it was again. that feeling. Just as a voice said softly behind her words she had longed for:

“Hello Slayer.”

She span around to see a man, bleach blonde hair waving from the overhead fan. A cigarette seeming to hang off of the end of his lips, with that half smile. His stare seemed to pierce right through her. Was it really him?

“I’ve been waiting for you, love.”

End Of Chapter

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