Authors Note: This story is set three years after the destruction of Sunnydale. It's a slow starter so bear with me on this one!
A couple of points of information: For those who are not aware the Cotswolds is a mostly rural area located in south west England, with many areas of outstanding natural beauty. A map can be found at: . Also the word 'covert' is not pronounced in the traditional sense, it is pronounced more like 'coven' i.e. 'caw-vert'. As it appears in this story it's meaning is that of a shelter or hiding place.
Finally, I hope you enjoy this. It is my first time writing Fan Fiction so please Read and Reply, your criticisms are welcomed.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
"Semi-retirement"
Chapter 1 – The Cotswolds
She forgot she was staring. She knew it was inappropriate in this kind of situation, but she couldn't help herself. The object in front of her seemed positively ancient, as old as the hills. For more than one hundred years it had hung on various walls, stationary. Who had it seen with it's dead eyes? She imagined people she knew, had known, walking by it in Victorian dress, at a candle-lit dinner party perhaps. For all she knew it might have happened. The thought brought a smile to her face, but slowly it began to disappear. She saw the polite conversation turn into screams, oil lamps knocked over, the room going dark. 19th century reserve gave way to terror and self preservation. An image of a large mirror appeared in her mind. It hung over a mantle. There was a man reflected dimly in it, frightened and stumbling, incoherent. The object in her hands could be seen hanging in the background. Without warning, as if possessed by some sort of clairvoyance, he wheeled round and screamed at something. Whatever the something was it wasn't being reflected in the mirror. The screams stopped, the figure of the man was still, standing bolt upright with his head thrown back, involuntarily it would seem. A shower of blood hit the mirror with a violent force, obscuring everything. The people she knew from the 19th century weren't good people, weren't people at all…
"BUFFY". She snapped out of it, looked around to see who was calling her. It was Espen, and he was pointing frantically behind her. Her eyes widened with the realisation and she spun around to face her customer.
"I'm sorry Mrs. Jones, where was I?"
"You were telling me where it came from dear."
She looked down at the object in her hands, a ceramic basket for holding flowers, with a large cherub figure on the front for decoration.
"Of course, I'm sorry. It was made for export in a German factory sometime in the 1880s. It's mass produced of course, but the Conti-Bohiem factory never made too much of the one series, so a particular model like this one can be quite unique."
"I'm certainly interested, but I'm still not sure, it's £200. Edward might hit the roof if I were to just spring it on him!"
"Well I'll tell you what, we're just about to close, so why don't you go home tonight and discuss it with Edward. We'll still be here tomorrow."
"Perhaps I'll put something special on for dinner, butter him up a bit." The old woman said as began to hobble out the door.
"Yeah, and if that doesn't work I'll give you something to slip into his scotch." Replied Buffy.
"Oh dear, heh heh heh, righto dear until tomorrow." Mrs. Jones left the Antiques shop, the bell ringing as the door opened, then closed. Buffy locked it after she had gone, turned the sign around to say 'closed' and pulled down the blind.
She leant against the door, tired and looked around the shop. The heavy musk of history hung in the air. Everywhere there was silver, ceramic, carved wood. In the summer shafts of sunlight poked through and let you see just how much dust floated around the air. She weaved through the makeshift paths between furniture until she got to the main desk, where Espen was sitting with his feet up.
"You blanked out there again" he said. He had a thick Norwegian accent, but each word was pronounced perfectly.
"I know, I know. I know it sounds silly, but after three years I'm still finding it hard to adjust to the pace of life here. I love the Cotswolds and all, and physically I've really benefited from the rest. Sometimes I think I need something to slow down my brain aswell."
"I have the solution. Niklas and I are off to the covert this evening."
The Foxes Covert was a local pub. Like most pubs in the Tetbury it was quiet, but it attracted a younger crowd, especially ex-pats like Buffy and Espen and the atmosphere was always livelier, the conversations animated.
"I'm not sure. I told Giles I'd help him with a couple of things around the house. He's 'Updating and indexing' his library. Again!"
"You're your own worst enemy. Come on, a few ales will slow down that brain of yours! Bring Giles too."
"You know what, I think I might! At least I'll see if he can spare me. Catch you later Espen."
"So long."
-------------------------------------------------------
Buffy left Coyne's Antiques and started down the cobbled lane towards home. Her route, like most of the town, was picturesque, 'Like something out of a Thomas Hardy novel' Giles had said, though she couldn't be sure of that, or who Thomas Hardy was. One little road led to another, then to another like a huge patchwork and finally to a long country lane surrounded on both sides by bushes, the home straight. She arrived at the large wrought iron gate and pushed it open, hearing it's customary creak as she did so, then headed towards the house.
Home was a large stone building that lay half an hour's walk from the town. Five bedrooms, a couple of living rooms, large study, library, the works, although it was still quite compact. More than enough for her and her former Watcher.
A lot had changed in the three years since Sunnydale sank into hell. The gang, those who survived anyway, had almost all left the country. Strangely enough they had reached this decision separately, each sensing the need for a really fresh start. When Giles made the decision to go home to England Buffy made the decision for her and Dawn to go too. Not only would the change of scene be relaxing, but it would be good for her sister's education and there was generally far less undead activity on the British Isles.
Giles lived in Semi-Retirement. Semi, because he still worked for the watcher's council (he had risen through the ranks quickly after his tenure in Sunnydale ended) and because he imposed a punishing regime of study and research upon himself. The library was easily the largest room in the house and in the relatively short time they had been there Giles' collection of occult volumes had ballooned to nearly three times the size of the library in Sunnydale High.
He had also begun hosting the annual watcher's retreat, something of a coup for him as previously he had not even been invited to them! Times had changed though, and now he was becoming quite revered in certain sections of the council, and the lectures he gave from time to time were pencilled in on most aspiring watcher's calendars.
Buffy stepped into the large hallway and shut the door behind her. There was noise coming from library upstairs and she made her way towards it. As she got closer she recognised the familiar strains of Giles' favourite Joy Division record, blaring. Since life wasn't as eventful anymore people had time to do normal things, in Giles' case those things included having that mid-life crisis he had never gotten around to. At least he was finished with the Buzzcocks. She opened the library door and entered.
"Buffy! Good evening." Giles was struggling to greet her as he was carrying a pile of books somewhere. He looked much the same as always except for a few extra flecks of grey on his head.
"Hi Giles. Have you been doing this all day? You should really take up golf. Or croquet. Whatever old people do over here."
"That's quite enough of that young lady. I'll have you know that this is soon to become the largest and most organised occult library on earth. Well, the largest privately owned one. Once this indexing is finished I can begin putting it into an easily searchable computer database. It will be one of the most useful demon-fighting tools available. Know your enemy Buffy, you of all people know the value of that."
"I know, I'm just teasing. Hey I'm going to the Covert later to meet Espen. Wanna come?"
"I'm afraid not. I'm behind as it is. The council are sending someone to begin transferring this information to the database. They'll be arriving on Monday. Say hello to Espen though, and tell him that I've gotten a couple of new books on Norse demons that might interest him."
"Cool. See you at dinner" said Buffy leaving the library and heading towards her bedroom.