REMEMBER, REMEMBER

Author: Aelfheim (fanfic@aelfheim.co.uk) Summary: Shortfic to celebrate Guy Fawkes Night.

Rating: R? Spoilers: Set after the end of S7 and Angel S5.

-Remember, remember the fifth of November, gunpowder, treason and plot, I see no reason why gunpowder treason should ever be forgot. Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'twas his intent to blow up the King and the Parliament. Three score barrels of powder below, Poor old England to overthrow: By God's providence he was catch'd With a dark lantern and burning match. Holloa boys, holloa boys, make the bells ring. Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King! Hip hip hoorah!

- traditional rhyme (source Wikipedia.com)

LONDON - FRIDAY, 4 NOVEMBER 2005, 23:15

The old brick walls had stood undisturbed for centuries save for the faint drip of water, the soft scurry of rats hunting through the drifting sewage and the distant murmur of surface traffic. But today was different. The familiar pitch blackness of the tunnels was interrupted by tiny moving specks of light and the splashes that

echoed eerily through the stillness were too loud and too big to come from the usual sources. Blast, the sharp curse couldn't really be called loud, but, breaking the silence that had surrounded them till then, it startled both the men creeping slowly through the darkness. Instinctively, they glanced around worriedly for a moment reassuring themselves that there was no one to overhear the girl's outburst. Please, quiet, the older man urged her. We're almost under the building now and I'd really rather not to have to explain what we're doing here to all those nice policemen with machine guns we saw earlier. Yep, definitely want to avoid that, Xander agreed quietly. Then after a moments silence, What's up with that anyway? I thought the British police didn't carry guns. Most don't. Just those on special duty. Surely you noticed them at the airport when you arrived. Well ... Guys, not now, Buffy interrupted sounding a little annoyed. She swung her torch back and forward between their faces so that she could see them in the darkness. Bad enough we're crawling through stinky tunnels in the middle of the night. Can we at least try to get it over with as soon as possible? I really need my sleep if I'm going to stay awake through tomorrow's Council meeting. When she turned her torch on his face, Xander winked his sole eye at her. Yeah, and I used to think it was boring having one stuffy old Brit droning onand-on-and-on. A room full of them raises dullness to a whole new level. Ha, ha, the stuffy Brit in question commented dryly. Very droll I'm sure. Now can we just keep silent. If the map was accurate, the grate that leads into the cellars should be just around the next bend. Silence reigned again as they trudged forward, trying to ignore the ankle deep filthy water they were walking in. Rusty iron bars hove into sight exactly where the map had predicted, and Giles pulled a small leather pouch from the bag slung across his shoulder. He slowly sprinkled the contents of the bag around the edges of the bars being very careful not to get any of the faintly glowing purple powder on himself or either of his companions. When the pouch was empty he tossed it between the bars into the chamber beyond and stepped back to make room for

Buffy. Setting her feet as firmly as she could in the slime covering the floor, Buffy took a firm grip on the centre of the grate and nodded for Giles to continue. In the merest breath of a whisper, so faint that even Buffy had to strain her slayer enhanced hearing to pick the words out, Giles began to speak a short Latin phrase over and over again. With each repetition the powder glowed brighter and brighter. By the fifth time they all noticed a growing acrid odour, accompanied by faint whiffs of smoke curling up from the ends of the bars. As the tenth repeat rolled towards an end, Buffy felt the metal becoming uncomfortably warm beneath her hands. The smoke so thick now she could barely make out the edges of the grating. Then as the final word left Giles' lips for the twelfth time, a circle of light flared up and Buffy staggered slightly under the weight of the abruptly loose grating. Stepping back slowly, she silently laid the bars to one side. Swiftly, but without even a trace of sound, Buffy darted down the newly opened tunnel and cautiously peeked her head out to check both ways at the next junction. Reassured the coast was clear, she signalled that it was safe to continue. Are you alright? she whispered in concern, as she watched a sweaty faced Giles lean quite heavily on Xander for support as they moved to join her. Yes, yes, just a little drained. I'll be fine once I get a little rest, he comforted her. That's a somewhat advanced spell. Oh, it's just Willow made it look so easy when we were in the Paris catacombs last spring. Humph, well few people are in Willow's class any longer when it comes to magic. They lapsed back into silence again, as Buffy led their stealthy creep through the maze of old rooms and corridors. Although their research showed that this part of the cellars had been walled off from the main building decades ago and security should therefore be almost non-existent, none of them felt like taking any chances. After almost quarter of an hour, they finally arrived at the room indicated as their destination on the map. A room which at first glance appeared no different than any of the dozen others they had passed by or through, but something was nudging unpleasantly at the edges of Buffy's Slayer senses, setting her nerves on edge.

Xander however felt nothing, and after a long circuit of the room showed nothing but some old discarded rags and scraps of wood, he levelled a cold one eyed stare on Giles. There's nothing here. Are you sure this prophecy's reliable. As sure as I can ever be about these things. Give it a bit longer, there's still a little while to go till midnight. So what are we expecting again, Buffy asked, trying to take her mind away from the menacing sense of expectation that seemed to be forming in the very air around her. Her hands rubbed her arms absently, as the growing tension made all the fine hairs stand on end. We went over this several times already Buffy, Giles sighed in exasperation. Sometimes he thought she never paid any attention to a word he said. Then there were other times, he thought with a wry smile, when he was sure of it. The smile confused Buffy somewhat, but she quickly dismissed it from her mind. I know Giles, but what else do we have to do while we wait. It's not like discussing our plans for tomorrow's meeting would be any more novel. We've gone over those arguments dozens of times during the last few weeks. True, he sighed. In truth he could use a bit of a distraction himself as well. Alright, once more from the beginning. Three weeks ago, an antiques dealer who has had several dealings with the Council in the past came across a box of documents purported to have belonged to Robert Catesby during a clearance sale at a stately home near Wolverhampton. When he got a chance to look through the papers a couple of days later, he came across one that he knew immediately would interest us and got in contact with one of our agents. Yeah, yeah Giles, we've already had the long boring version, just get to the point. Giles sighed and from long habit reached up to remove the glasses he wasn't wearing. His fingers stopped a couple of inches from his face and he awkwardly let his hand drop to his side, before stuffing it in his trousers' pocket. There were times that contact lenses just didn't offer the same benefits as glasses after all. The paper was a prophecy. Apparently written by someone close to the conspirators shortly after the failed attempt to blow up parliament in 1605. It told of how their spirits would find no rest until they avenged their deaths and completed their mission. It spoke vaguely of several events that would take place over the centuries most of which we've been able to confirm actually happened

 that would culminate in another chance for them to finally destroy parliament here on the site of their original failure four hundred years later. Exactly how they are supposed to achieve this is a bit unclear, but several hints in the text suggest they will be given physical form for the night and attempt to break the seals that Myrddin Emrys placed upon the Hellmouth here almost fifteen hundred years ago. This is where I have a problem Giles, Xander complained. It's now ... he paused briefly to check his watch, ... just four minutes till midnight. If they're gonna try and open a Hellmouth, shouldn't they be here already. Don't they need sacrifices and chants and some sort of big ceremony? Hell, it was sealed by Merlin, that's gotta be tough to break. Yes, quite. Giles looked around nervously. Normally I'd agree with you but some of the things these spirits have done already suggest they've got a lot of power at their disposal and that means we can't afford to take them lightly. OK, but in that case we really should have brought more slayers. Headquarters is practically overflowing with them right now. They're all just kids Xand, Buffy said defensively. And none of them have much field experience. Still ... A sudden stirring in the air and a drop in temperature interrupted whatever Xander had been about to say, and the three friends turned to face the rapidly thickening bank of mist filling one of the doorways as the sound of Big Ben striking the hour filtered faintly down from the street above. --LONDON, SATURDAY, 5 NOVEMBER 2004, 00:00

As the mist thickened in the doorway, it began to emit a faint greenish eldritch glow, threaded through with pulsing threads of black and red. Indistinct shadows formed within the mist, as they began to settle into more solid forms, Buffy counted six human shapes. I thought you said there were only a couple of these spirits, she hissed in an aside to Giles.

Well the histories of the other events in the prophecy only mentioned Guy Fawkes and Robert Catesby by name, so I just assumed they were all wed be facing, Giles explained apologetically. Its still not as bad as it could have been though. There were at least eight main conspirators, and probably dozens of accomplices. As the figures stepped from the mist into the main chamber, the three Scoobies finally got their first good look at them. Ye gads! Xander joked nervously. Were being attacked by the zombie musketeers. Long since accustomed to Xanders tendency to try and diffuse tense situations with humour, Giles limited his reaction to a single quiet snort. Although this time he had to admit the observation was not wholly inappropriate. The figures skins were a pallid greenish-grey colour and had a patchy, semi-rotten look to them. And the wide-brimmed hats, extravagant lace-trim and broad collars were not unlike Holywoods depictions of The Three Musketeers. Ah, behold my friends, the prophecy holds true. The sacrifice awaits our coming. Proclaimed the lead figure. Long 't'as been foretold that at the dawning o' the third millennium. From out The Slayer's blood shalt be crafted a key, which bled wilt unlock the gates between that which is and all that may be. Thus may the Queen of Hell walk in the lands of the sun and cast devastation on all creation. Buffy winced when she heard that she was the piece they needed to complete their prophecy. That was too much like the Master's gloating, about how she was the key to setting him free, for her liking. Gathering her courage, she steeled herself to take the fight to them, promising herself that they'd find the loophole in this prophecy, just as they had that time. But just as she was about to charge the sound of Xander laughing stopped her in her tracks. Oh, you have got to be kidding me! he choked out in disbelief. That has got to be the lamest, most misinterpreted prophecy yet! What! You think them trying to sacrifice me is funny!? Buffy rounded on him incredulously. No, no, Buff. Think about it. Doesn't all that sound terribly familiar? These idiots are following the wrong prophecy. They're four years too late and they've got the wrong Summers sister. You're not the key and they're not Glory! Giles fought to keep from beaming in pride at how quickly Xander had solved the riddle blatantly obvious though it was in hindsight. And the Ripper in him

couldn't help but smirk at the confounded looks the puzzled zombies were casting towards his two colleagues as Buffy responded sharply. Great! Just throw my death back in my face again. I SO didn't want to think about that just now. And what the hell are you thinking, broadcasting Dawn's secret like that. We get more than enough bad guys kidnapping her just because she's my sister, without letting them know she's one of the keys to unleashing Armageddon too! Calm down Buff, little sis' is safely out of the way. They can't hurt her tonight and we're not gonna let 'em survive to try some other time. Fool boy, the lead zombie boomed either Fawkes or Catesby, Giles assumed. Thou mistakest the meaning surely, for fate hast led us not astray each score years when we art called without the mists of purgatory to cast fair vengeance upon our betrayers' blood. A score of times have we been called, with this the last o' all. And finally before Merlin's kin - he gestured towards a surprised Giles - cans't thou truly hope we shall not prevail and set true all which went awry all those centuries ago? Let the world tremble anew, for forthwith shalst I mark this cursed floor a crimson. And sweet music unto my ears shalt be this girl's dying screams as they echo throughout these halls, calling out in woe for the downfall of all mankind, as I spread wide her entrails to frame the gate through which our master wilst enter this realm. Yada, yada, yada. And can I just say - eww! Buffy exclaimed, grimacing. So, not the image I want to try to sleep on! As the zombie continued to rant on and on, with ever more gruesome descriptions of what it intended to do to the Slayer, Xander finally couldn't take it any more and charged. Not gonna happen bozo, Xander shouted, swinging at the nearest zombie. But his axe passed straight through without resistance and he stumbled off balance almost falling. Damn Giles, you said theyd be solid. As the rippling effect of the axes passage dissipated, the spirit smiled mirthlessly at Xander and moving faster than their rotted appearance suggested they should casually back-handed him across the face, slamming him into the nearby cellar wall. Be gone boy. This matter concerns ye not. Thou art as a fly unto mine eyes, flee whilst thou may. That seemed solid enough, Buffy commented before taking an experimental swing with her gladius short sword. She grimaced as it too passed harmlessly through the figure in front of her, and quickly ducked out of the way of its attempted round-house. Giles, answers would be nice about now.

Eh, well it would appear our normal weapons dont harm them. No shit, Sherlock! Xander spat, as he automatically moved to block the followup kick his opponent aimed for his groin. When the block actually worked, Xander blinked in surprise for a moment. Then punched the zombie hard on the chin, rocking it back slightly. Heh, I hit him. How come the axe didnt work? The rapidly weaving Slayer tried two more quick swipes at nearby zombies before casting her sword aside as useless. The kicks and punches that she followed up with at least had the merit of striking her opponents even if they seemed to barely feel them. Not really caring now Xand. I oof don't think we're gonna ow! take them out with our ugh bare youch hands! Giles and Xander could only grunt in agreement as their two adversaries taxed them to the limits of their skills just to stay in one piece. Fortunately for them, the remaining four ghouls were all trying to attack Buffy as she virtually seemed to dance in and out of their midst, moving almost too quickly for normal human eyes to follow. It looked like a stalemate, with neither side being able to inflict any significant damage on the other. But the friends knew it couldn't last. They would begin to tire before long and then the zombies would gain the upper hand. They needed to find an advantage fast if they were going to get out of this one. And then it happened. Moving more by instinct than any sort of hope that it would work, Giles tripped the zombie he was fighting and plucking a stake from his belt, stabbed it into the back of the creatures skull as it stumbled past him. The pain filled scream was startlingly loud in the confined space and for a moment everything seemed to halt. Giles stared at the bloody stake still clutched in his hand, an explanation already beginning to percolate its way through his consciousness. Even the cloud of dust that was all that remained of the defeated zombie appeared to hang suspended in motion, before time reasserted its grip on events, the whirl of the fight resumed as the theory blossomed full fledged in Giles' mind. Organic materials, he gasped. They're vulnerable to organic weapons like our bodies or wood. They're like a cross between vampires and zombies. Piercing their brains with wood will kill them. Buffy didn't need to be told twice. Twisting aside from a dagger thrust, she pulled out a stake in each hand and pirouetted neatly between two of the zombies she'd been fighting. Plunging her stakes into both heads as she passed. Dropping into a crouch to avoid a swipe of the leader's sword, she swept the other zombie's feet out from under him, before tumbling forward beneath another sword stroke and

almost casually finishing off the downed zombie as she rolled gracefully to her feet. The rotted flesh of his face made the zombie leader's expression difficult to read, but Buffy could tell he was worried now, as he slowly backed away from her. His sword swept defensive patterns in the air between them, preventing her from easily closing for the kill. But she knew she had the upper hand and she schooled herself to patience as she slowly stalked forward, waiting for him to make the final fatal mistake. And there it was. Buffy lunged forward and to her right even before her conscious mind even recognised that his last swing had gone just a little too wide and left her an opening to exploit. Guy Fawkes had only the briefest of moments to realise his fatal mistake as he watched the stake loom large as it rushed towards his left eye. Then with a despairing wail he crumbled into dust. To be followed a moment later by his final minion, as Xander finally gained the upper hand in his own struggle and dispatched his opponent. The two men leaned wearily against the walls for a moment as they watched their small blonde friend bounce happily in place as she watched the last of the dust, that had been their former foes, settle slowly to the floor. Grinning broadly and exaggeratedly wiping her hands against each other, she turned to them and said with satisfaction, And so much for prophecy. That's what now? Apocalypses zero, Scoobies ... ? What? Eleven? Twelve? Thirteen I think, the younger Watcher replied. If you count Faith's victory against the Sect of Thalios last month. Buffy grimaced slightly at the mention of the other senior Slayer, causing both men to smirk a little, before she sighed and admitted defeat. Okay, I guess she has earned back her place in the Scooby Gang these last couple of years. Especially, after the way she helped Willow and Kennedy put an end to that dark coven that was trading all sorts of gruesome bits and bobs over the 'net. Now let's get out of here, she cocked her head to one side listening to the faint, but slowly growing, sounds of exited voices heading their way. I'm not sure even the Council has enough clout to get us out of trouble if the police catch us sneaking around under Parliament.

Pushing himself wearily away from the wall he'd been resting against, Giles nodded his agreement and dropped into the 'Ripper' tones of his youth in what his companions recognised as a sure sign of his tiredness and slipping emotional control. That sort of thing was always handled by Travers and his cronies. I doubt the few of those wankers who survived would even try to bloody well get us out. Xander snorted. Only if they could see some way to gain back some of their old power by doing it! They trudged back along the corridor in silence for a while before Xander suddenly laughed and with a wicked grin turned to the other two. I just remembered that Sir Arthur tabled a motion for a closer liaison between their faction and the new Slayers as part of the agenda for tomorrow's err today's meeting, he explained. So? So, I've got just the man for the job. After all we don't need to use Andrew to keep Angel off balance any longer... The the the and old brick walls rang briefly with the sounds of three people laughing before silence returned and all was as it had been for centuries. Undisturbed save for faint drip of water, the soft scurry of rats hunting through the drifting sewage the distant murmur of surface traffic.

The End