Hard Work, Perseverance and Faith in the Elder Gods

Author's Note: It's been 16 years and here I am still writing Buffy fanfiction. This one takes place a month or so after the series finale. The group has relocated to England and are all trying to fit into their new lives. This story will contain Fuffy slash because all my Buffy fanfictions contain Fuffy slash. Oh, and it's a Buffy/Lovecraft crossover. It's just coded as Buffy though because it's ya know, not going to use any Lovecraft characters. Hope you all enjoy. Review if you want and follow me on Twitter sassyspacetiger if you want to dm me and give me any private feedback. Thanks!

It was a Tuesday as it is always a Tuesday in stories such as these. Buffy Summers opened her eyes at a little after six in the morning and groaned unhappily. Her bedroom window was cracked open and the wind and rain of the early morning England storm blew in and speckled her face. She kicked her way out from under the scratchy plaid sheets wrapped around her and slid out of bed wearing her Yummy Sushi pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt. She felt odd. Out of sorts. It'd been exactly a month since Sunny-D-Day and she was still totally on edge.

But maybe she was the only one. Everyone else seemed to have gotten back into the swing of things. After the collapse of the hellmouth, The Watcher's Council, being the ever pesty big brother, provided for the Scoobies and the new found army of slayerettes. The group relocated to England, just outside of London, in the small Hamlet of Kinareth. An old monastery turned training academy served as their new home. The originals all had jobs to keep them busy- Willow was in charge of training a gaggle of wanna-be witches, Xander, a tactical collection of sort-of soldiers, Dawn was back in school with a handful of slayerettes in her clique, and Giles was at the helm of it all. The operation ran smoothly. Lovingly named Summerswatch, individuals or large groups of the team were hired out by varied businesses for odd jobs or single families for protection. It was largely dependent on what the job called for- a cleansing? A few of Willow's group would go, accompanied by a couple slayers and a handful of Xander's soldiers. A self-protection class? Slayerettes and soldiers. A healing ceremony? Witches-In-Training and a few slayers for back up.

But where did that leave Buffy? Occasionally, when she got too mopey, she was asked to head a slayer training session. But for the most part found herself treading water. The slayerettes were capable. She wasn't needed anymore. She felt obsolete, like an appliance model that had just been upgraded. She was barely in her twenties but already she felt like she'd passed her prime. She was low. Going through the motions again, just as she had when she'd been brought back from heaven. Only this time there was a lot less singing and dancing and no hunky vampire to make out with during the coda.

She missed her mom. She missed 1630 Revello Drive. She missed Mr. Gordo, and the magic shop and the newly renovated high school. She missed patrolling and being the head of a household and actually having a sense of control. But all that was gone. And buried in a ginormous chasm in California.

Buffy stood for a moment or so longer, watching the rain run down the window panes. And then, before she could get lost in her own angst, she turned away and went to her private bathroom to shower.

The Academy was vast. Having once housed monks, the building held quite a few rooms and everyone had a bed to sleep in. The Slayerettes, the witchettes and the soldiers-in-training all had roommates. Xander had his own room and so did Buffy and Giles. Willow had been given her own as well, though Kennedy slept with her more often than not. The only other single room belonged to Faith Lehane, but no one had seen or heard from her in weeks. A few days after their arrival, she'd packed a bag and split, headed out for the open road. Wood had remained in the states following the battle and they'd went their separate ways. Faith wasn't really a relationship kinda girl anyway. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what kinda girl she was.

Lately the brunette had been on Buffy's mind more often than she cared to admit. The blonde had spent a great deal of her time hating the other slayer for her bad deeds and never really forgiving her for any of them either. When Faith actually proved to be an asset to her, Buffy was flabbergasted. For some reason, it was nearly impossible for Buffy to really accept that the dark slayer had changed. It was ironic that she was able to forgive Angel for losing his soul, killing Ms. Calendar and torturing her indefinitely when she couldn't forgive Faith for going rogue. Even Spike had proven himself redeemed after years of trying to kill Buffy. The slayer had forgiven Willow too, after the witch become dark and tortured a human. But she was unable to extend that same compassion to Faith when Faith had merely given in to the mayor's persuasion and acted out of loyalty for an evil father figure.

Buffy Summers' feelings for Faith Lehane had gone through many phases, some of which she'd never fully admitted even to herself. Putting it vaguely, there had been curiosity, betrayal, rage, sadness, more rage, more sadness, more betrayal, acceptance and finally, more curiosity. The only thing was.. The curiosity had been more that just a casual interest in someone so similar to herself. It had been a hunger for acceptance, a yearning to understand, and what's more, a very primal and, though Buffy wasn't at all ready to face it, a very sexual urge to connect. And there had been moments, especially early on, where the bond they were forming threatened to cross boundaries Buffy didn't know she'd drawn. Of course she'd fought the feelings and never actually acted upon any of them. But there'd been dreams and fantasies and as pathetic as it proved to be, there wasn't a single time that Buffy saw Faith and her heart didn't pound in her throat. She'd swallowed buckets of fear and faced down an army of demons that had crawled straight out of Hell, and yet, just the thought of seeing that brunette again seriously gave her the wiggins.

Buffy put on a white sweater, a brown leather jacket, some light blue jeans and her new favorite brown boots. She gently combed through her golden curls and carefully applied a modest amount of eye make-up. And then, feeling just as out of sorts as she had before the shower, the original chosen Slayer left her living quarters and headed down the long hallway of her wing of the Academy to find Rupert Giles.

The windows along the corridors were stained glass and in the sunlight they were very beautiful and incredibly vibrant. However, when the lightning struck, dark and distorted shadows were cast on the stone walls and Buffy had occasional flashbacks to darker times in Sunnydale. Kinareth was mundane, provincial and, for the most part, demon free. Buffy could count on one hand the number of times she'd actually slain a vampire since living in Kinareth. Mortality rates were incredibly low too. They hadn't lost a single member of the Academy since it had gotten up and running and Dawn had said that some of her new friends actually walked home from school. It was surreal. Buffy had spent the entirety of her teenage and adult life fighting the forces of evil and now there weren't really any forces to fight. That and about a million other emotions all tangled up inside her and left her with the heaviest case of ennui that she'd ever experienced.

In the very center of the monastery, up a short flight of stairs and at the back of a rather breathtaking wooden balcony was housed the abbot's office. Giles, the appointed leader of Summerswatch had been given the office for his paperwork. When he wasn't strolling about the grounds looking a bit put out and entirely too serious, he could usually be located sitting at his desk, sipping on a hot cup of tea. And that's just where Buffy found him. Only he wasn't sitting and his tea was left forgotten on the desk, a twirl of steam spiraling up out of the darkly steeped liquid.

He, too, seemed out of sorts. He stood behind the desk, his shirt untucked, his glasses hanging from one hand, the fingertips of the other rubbing the bridge of his nose just between his eyes. Behind him, a roll of thunder echoed in the distance, closely followed by the startling crackle of lightning that could be seen through the small round window at the top peak of the room. At first he didn't seem to notice his slayer's entrance and remained with his eyes closed, the wrinkles on his forehead reflecting a great deal of frustration. But then, prompted by the small sound of the office door clicking shut once more, he realized he was no longer alone and jumped in surprise.

"Ah yes," he said, clearing his throat and then carefully wiping the lenses of his glasses on a particularly wrinkled section of his untucked dress shirt, "Buffy. Good morning."

"Is it?" she replied, falling down sideways into one of the spare red leather chairs in the office that had been positioned diagonally to face his desk. "You look a little.. unGilesy."

"Oh," he replied, rather distracted, "well perhaps." Suddenly noticing his abandoned tea, he quickly moved to get it. Then, once he'd taken a few tentative sips he told her, "I'm afraid I haven't slept yet."

"I can tell," she said, sitting up straight and then reaching to get an ink pen off of his desk. She spun it in her nimble fingers and then pointed the tip of the pen at the teacup held between his palms. "I'm sure that's not helping. Maybe you should switch to something with more caffeine. Does tea even have caffeine?"

Giles bent and picked up a sheet of paper that had been laying crookedly across his keyboard. "Of course," he said, muttering to himself, "Yes, that makes absolute sense." His eyes gleamed with the sudden burst of knowledge but then he flipped the paper over and his expression lost its zeal. "But not when you take this into consideration."

"Giles," Buffy said, tossing the pen at his shoulder to garner his attention. "Earth to Giles."

He lay the paper back down and then sat the tea beside it. Then, lowering himself into his high backed desk chair, he said, "I'm sorry Buffy. I'm a bit distracted."

The blonde nodded. "Well yes, I can tell that. But by what?"

"I"m afraid I don't understand enough of it to properly explain what it is that's distracting me," was his answer. He sighed and then collected the strewn papers scattering his workspace and stacked them together. "No matter," he continued, pushing them out of his line of view. "What is it that's troubling you?"

"How do you know there's something troubling me?" the slayer inquired, tilting her head to one side.

"Buffy," he said, "I haven't all day. On the contrary, I am incredibly exhausted and yet still due to attend a meeting with the Watcher's Council at noon today."

"About what?"

"Allowances. We are in the way of having a thriving business here but we need more supplies. Food. Toiletries. Bed clothes. And we haven't a great deal of cash flow as of yet. My goal is to secure a sort of allowance." He dug in his drawer for a moment and then presented a collection of receipts. "You've no idea the sort of money this group of misfits goes through."

"I do have an idea," she replied. "I housed the potentials for quite a while."

He gave her a knowing look. "Perhaps. But now I'm worried about things a watcher shouldn't have to worry about."

"Like what?"

"Cohabitation! What is a training academy to do with a pregnant slayer?"

Buffy's eyes widened. "One of the girls is pregnant?"

"Oh for heaven's sake I hope not," Giles shook his head and removed his glasses again rather dramatically. "But imagine if something like that were to happen. There is nothing in the Watcher's handbook dealing with raising a child."

"It's doable," Buffy shrugged. "Wood survived."

"But his mother didn't," Giles frowned. "As tragic as it may sound, slayer's aren't meant to have families."

"Slayers aren't meant to live past the ripe old age of sixteen either," Buffy quipped, "but hey, here I am."

His eyes fell on her face then and he realized he was being rather exuberant and closed his mouth. After a rather lengthy silence, he followed up with, "Anyways, I do care about you very much and I do want to know what's on your mind."

She got up out of her chair. "How about we save the chat for after you take a big fat nap, huh?"

Giles gazed at the stack of paperwork he'd collected then released a long held breath. "I really ought to go to the library and.."

She shook her head. "You can do the librarian bit after you sleep away some of your angst."

It didn't take any more convincing. The older man simply finished his tea and then headed off to bed. Buffy followed him out onto the balcony to see him off and ensure he was headed to his room and not the library, but when he was out of sight, she slipped back inside the small office.

The stack of documents that had held his interest were a series of letters all signed H. P. L. They were lengthy and long winded and composed of the most pompous vocabulary. Buffy scanned a few of them and got the jist that the guy that had written them was afraid. But of what she couldn't exactly understand. Somewhere back in America, specifically somewhere in New England, something horrible and ever growing was threatening a small town, and perhaps even the very world they all inhabited. Had Buffy Summers not already diverted several apocalypses prior to reading the letters, maybe she would have been worried. But seeing as how she'd thwarted death more than once and reversed countless Armageddons, she was unphased. She rolled her eyes and tossed the letters back onto the desk.

Another day another demon, right?