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Boise, Idaho sits on a hellmouth.

Not many people know that. I’m sure when you usually think of Boise (if you’re ever insanely bored enough to think about Boise), potatoes are involved in some way, shape or form.

Did anyone have any idea they were evil potatoes?

In theory, I’m not even supposed to be here. I’m the only slayer ever afforded the luxury of retirement – well, not counting Faith…

Ok, amend that – I’m the only slayer who’s never done a stint in the pokey, to be afforded the luxury of retirement. And I happily did the relaxing thing. For a while, anyway.

A snow globe of Windsor Castle and a near moldy plate of bangers and mash are quite possibly all that remains of my European downtime. Before now, I never understood why you would run across the odd little, old man or woman bagging groceries or building your Doublemeat Medley with care. Not when they could be running you off the road in those huge winnabagos or at home sitting in their laze-e-boys, praising pension plans and Bob Barker…

But that’s the thing about retirement –

It’s the snoozefest to end all snoozefests.

The first month or so is golden. You get these visions of the simple life (minus a Hilton chasing various farm animals) that are all about staying up late, hagen daze, minimal bathing, and being make-up free.

Dawn and I moved into a nice, little apartment (I didn’t live in ‘Merry Old’ long enough to allow me to call it a "flat", without feeling like an ass) in the North End of London. We had goldfish, a plush couch, and the BBC – which led to my taping every Eddie Izzard special known to man.

Willow and Kennedy lived with us until Wills heard the spiritual, Wiccan call of the wild, and decided to return to the coven. Though, it was hard getting used to not having my Willow just two bedroom doors away, the wisdom of Dawn helped to put the move in a different light:

"Look at it this way – Willow leaving, not a happy thing. But, Kennedy going with her, means there’ll be one less, slightly unpleasant person to share a bathroom with."

There was no arguing with that logic.

Xander stayed in the states and treated us to a phone call at least once a week. Modesto’s nice and surprisingly non-demon-y, despite the number of people who seem to disappear from the area. His construction business is off to a great start. And the girl he’s dating is neither nor has ever been a demon.

Faith took off for Spain. And since her decision came right after an Antonio Banderas movie marathon, I’m guessing beautiful architecture and cities rich with history weren’t the selling point – I could be wrong, tho…

Giles and Robin began rebuilding the Council. Compared to its former self, the Council now is just a mom-and-pop operation, not many Watchers were left to fill out the tweed and a lot of valuable texts were lost when the old regime crumbled (literally).

And I felt like I’d found my niche in London. I was the American who would bite the head off of any cook who dumped beans all over her eggs, and the little blonde girl who had the nerve to ask "what’s so funny about Absolutely Fabulous, anyway?"

England’s great – if you ignore blood sausage and slack dental hygiene. But, by Guy Fawkes Day, I knew I’d had my fill of life across the pond.

Way back in June, Giles offered me a position as a Watcher and I turned it down without a moment’s hesitation. Could you blame me?! Gore and death wasn’t my life anymore. I didn’t have to wash blood out of my clothes or try to conceal bruises the size of Granada. Never had to breathe in a pound of vampire dust or drag the body of some inconveniently un-poof-y demon to a place where hopefully it could turn to mulch undiscovered.

All Retirement!Buffy had to worry about was the skyrocketing mobile phone bill (Dawn never quite grasped the "free nights and weekends" concept) and missing the latest ep of Trading Rooms.

Strangely enough, there was something about watching Giles attempting to burn the effigy of a man that restored a sense of want for a purpose in my life again. Or maybe it was finishing off that fifth box of toffee in a week that jarred me back from the land of slacking…can’t decide…

Toffee, Guy Fawkes straw puppet – whatever. The point is I finally came to the realization I would always be a player in the fight between good and evil, even if I’m the one doing the watching this time around.

That night, after informing he and Dawn of my decision, Giles put up a map of the other hellmouths around the world, blindfolded me, and unceremoniously handed me a dart –

It landed on Idaho.

Did I mention I have shit aim?

"Idaho – you’re in luck, Buffy. There’s all ready a slayer in the Boise area."

I blinked. How the hell had I managed to miss Hawaii?!

"Idaho?!"

Dawn smiled brightly. "No, you-da-ho," she lamely joked and I turned to her, tilting my head,

"That joke still gonna be funny when you’re living it up in the greater Boise area?"

Her face fell. "Oh, god! You’re not making me go! Are you?!"

Three days and one fuming, silent Dawn later, our bags were packed.





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