Chapter 2
Emma Knight sat in the sparsely furnished living room of the small one bedroom apartment she had been assigned in The Building. She had nowhere to go and no money to her name. From one of the richest and most influential women in Britain she had gone down to being an unknown pauper: Emma Knight was dead, so was Emma Peel. She had no existence, no job, no family, no reason for living, or way of paying for it.
She couldn't go back to the family firm, as her second cousin had run it into the ground and the Kirrin Corporation had bought it, lock, stock, barrel and patents. Her friends were old or dead and even if she would be allowed to tell them what had happened to her, most would refuse to believe her. Though to be fair, she wasn't sure she understood it herself. She sighed and looked out of the window at the darkening gloom of the London night and decided to talk a walk through The Building and then take a turn towards the Watcher Headquarters and see if anything was going on that might drag her thoughts away from her depressing situation.
BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS
The great carved door of the Womble Burrow of Hyde Park silently opened, revealing a black clad figure with a crossbow and a two handed sword on his back, standing about five foot high and almost three wide. Tomsk Womble in full battle gear was a rather impressive sight even Buffy had to admit.
He nodded silently and led them down. Wellington padded behind the Slayers, the Witch and the archivist. Dawn was still pouting, but like the others was busy looking around. Buffy was the only one to have visited a Womble burrow before and this one was even more magnificent than the one on Wimbledon Common. The electric lights were shaded by lace doilies and set in ancient iron torch and candle holders. Carved stone and wooden gothic arches held up the ceiling.
The small chamber they finally entered was unpleasantly cold, far colder than the halls leading to it. A musty, dank smell hung in it, obviously coming from the roughly squared off hole in the wall. A door had once filled it, but it had been bricked up and then someone had placed runes on the bricks, plastered them over, placed runes on the plaster and then had sealed of the room itself by blocking the door.
Buffy eyed the security measures and then looked at Wellington. "Did it ever occur to you that someone sealed this place up for a reason?"
"Yes. My cousins probably thought it'd been done due to subsidence or tunnel collapse…we don't deal with the supernatural very often I'm afraid. Only a few of us would've realised that this was not a normal seal. We open collapsed tunnels quite often, construction techniques do advance after all." Wellington replied apologetically.
"But I take it this Bungo and Orinoco weren't among those in the know?"
"They're very experienced travellers and explorers, but as to encounters with the occult, well I don't think they had any really."
Buffy sighed. "And you?"
"I've encountered a few strange things." Wellington smiled.
"And Tomsk here?"
"Tomsk is quite capable."
Buffy eyed the huge sword strapped to the Womble's back, as broad at the hilt as the length of her hand, with respect. Tomsk seemed unimpeded by its weight and moved easily. She had no doubt he could use it, and use it well.
She grinned. "Well then let's head out and do some damage."
She stepped into the opening and shivered. It was a lot colder in the tunnel than in the room and she looked at George just behind her Willow who was followed by Heidi and then Tomsk.
"Cold. Ideas?"
"Ghosts." George shrugged. "Most likely. All the ghosts I met had a cold aura."
"Right. That mesh with you Wills?"
"Ayup. Total matcheroony." Willow's voice was dreamy and distracted.
Buffy turned round to see Willow blush.
"Willow…Were you just checking out our butts?" She asked teasingly.
"Err…just yours?" Willow stammered unconvincingly.
"Perv."
"Aren't you glad!"
George sighed. "Can we pay attention to the matter in hand please? We are entering a tunnel where unknown danger dwells."
"Ohhh…mini Giles-y accent-y and impression of danger-y speech. Cool." Buffy grinned.
George rolled her eyes and muttered. "Dratted Americans."
"Don't let your mother hear you swearing George…"
"My mother isn't here, Summers. And pay attention." George growled.
Buffy stuck her tongue out at the other Slayer. "Yes oh Great Leader."
George sighed and led the group on, her nostrils flaring occasionally as she sniffed the air, her eyes flicking to and fro and her ears almost twitching. Buffy looked at her sister Slayer askance and wondered what the world looked like from her eyes and smelled like through her nose.
BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS
Spike made his way through the corridors of the Council Building whistling to himself and gnawing on a toothpick. Menthol. He sighed and muttered to himself. If it ever came out that Spike, William the Bloody, ensouled or not, was chewing toothpicks because he knew that the lady he wanted to woo was highly opposed to smoking, his bad boy rep would hit the basement. He entered the front office of the Directorate of Operations and then the office of the Director. Xander was at his desk, feet on it, crossed at the ankles and playing a game on an Xbox. "Hey Spike. Grab a chair. There's tea and chocolate and I can get you some pig's blood."
Spike grinned. He'd gotten on much better with the boy of late, but the turn around in their relationship had come three days before when the Nibblett had sat them both down and told then in no uncertain terms to grow up. And then Xander had offered him beer.
"So what's with the toothpicks?"
"Apparently smoking kills." Spike shrugged.
Xander snorted. "You're dead already."
"Yeah well, can't have everything."
"Why are you still here? I'd think you'd be back in LA by now?"
"Naah. I mean, I get to LA and Cheerleader and the Poof would be all over me to take care of the kid while they have a night out or sumthin'"
Xander grinned. "I still can't get my head around the fact that Cordy is so…maternal."
"I admit the tyke is quite cute. But there's a limit to how long and how often Uncle Spike is willing to baby sit. Not to mention the fact that Cordy and The Poof seem determined to try and make a little sibling for the brat."
Xander blinked. "Errr…Come again?"
"Yeah. That's what they do." Spike smirked and Xander threw a ball of paper at him, an amused expression on his face.
"How can they procreate I mean, I thought Connor was a fluke? And with Darla at that?"
"Yeah…that doesn't stop them from tryin'. All the bleedin' time." Spike said dryly and chewed his toothpick.
Xander winced. "Crap, now I've got visuals."
"I got them in Technicolor surround sound back at the Hyperion. At least until I moved into a different room." Spike added helpfully and grinned with glee as the one-eyed man shuddered.
"Thank you for that lovely imagery. What do you think the chances are?"
"I don't know, mate. I mean there's the whole Shansu deal. Maybe the Poof will become human and they'll live happily ever after with their two by four children."
"Two point four Spike." Xander grinned. "Who knows, it may happen. Willow did manage to tie Angel's soul down permanently."
"And the Cheerleader does it on occasion to Angel. You ever into that?" Spike grinned as Xander flushed and glared at him
"Well, if we could overcome that curse, there has to be a simple solution to them having children too." Xander tried to fight down the blush as he spoke. "Maybe even with technology, not magic, they do amazing things with DNA these days."
"Yeah, well, I don't think things would be as simple as that. Never is for us, is it. Never." The vampire looked morosely at the battered toothpick, threw it in Xander's waste bin and dug a packet of new ones out of his pocket, took one out and stuck it in his mouth.
"George can't stand the smell of cigarettes, can she?" Xander asked.
Spike closed his yes and bit down on the thing wood, biting it in half. "What has that got to do with anythin'?"
"Spike, you love to smoke. The only thing that could make you stop would be something you love even more."
"Yeah? Maybe I've decided to take up Perfume makin' Need my olfactory senses at their very peak for that." Spike pointed out belligerently.
Xander grinned. "Will you go into fashion too? I can just see the look you will cultivate. With specials for Tomboys."
"Are you tryin'to say something to me, boy?"
"Just that you're in love. With George Kirrin."
"Really? Amazin' the things I learn talkin' to you." Spike said morosely
"Oh, I think you know. It's just taken you a while to admit it. And of course she was dead."
Spike groaned and buried his face in his hands.
"How long?" Xander asked sympathetically.
Spike had known it was useless to try and deny anything to the One Who Sees and shrugged, giving in. "How long I've known? The Ball. I think it happened just after we first met…she was so full of fire, so vibrant, so alive…" Spike sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Bloody hell…what am I gonna do?"
"Well…Dinner and a dance come to mind? I believe there's a Remember the Forties gig on somewhere?"
"Very funny. Where is she anyway?"
Xander looked at a large white board on his wall and looked at the bottom row where George's name had been added to the roster of Slayers.
"Ummm…looking into the disappearance of some Wombles under Hyde Park with Buffy and Willow. Some tunnels or something."
Spike spat out his toothpick. "T-Tunnels? Hyde Park? Oh Bloody hell!" He was out the door and running before Xander even had a chance to ask him what was wrong. The Director of Operations made a quick call to Giles and then followed the vampire, hoping to find out what was wrong.
BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS
The tunnel was much longer than expected, branching off into more tunnels and opening into panelled rooms and leading ever further down. The wood of the panels was warped by moisture and cold and a smell of death hung starkly in the tunnels, permeating the air and filling the air with a sense of dread. The smell clung to the back of the throat and filled the nostrils, hindering the Slayers' sense of smell and causing Willow to gag on several occasions.
The cold was getting worse and Buffy shivered despite her thick winter coat. She saw that George was less affected, as was Heidi, who's native Germany could be quite cold. But Willow was shivering badly. Of them all Tomsk was doing best, his natural thick fur warding of the chill.
"Damn it…I've never felt a ghostly presence like this. What the hell is down here?" Buffy groused.
"I don't know. I never heard anything about it." George answered and ran her hand down the frost rimed wall. "Bloody cold."
Willow shivered and Buffy moved closer to where the witch was bundled up in a fur lined quilted green anorak. "You look just as cute as you did when you dressed as an Eskimo." She hugged the taller girl and lightly kissed her lips, grimacing as the usual taste of Willow was quite overpowered by the scent and smell of death. "Any ideas Will?"
"Cold." Willow shivered again and burrowed into her girlfriend.
"Can you cast a spell to warm yourself up?"
"Dangerous…Dark energy…almost Hellmouth-y. Not easy to filter out."
Buffy nodded, realising what the witch meant. "And that might awaken your addiction to the Dark again. Damn."
"Yeah." Willow said through chattering teeth.
"Damn…what the hell is down there? It should be getting warmer, not colder as we go down."
George looked worried. "I think we should go back up and find out more about this place."
Buffy shivered. "Yeah…you're right. Place gives me the flying wiggins. Tomsk?"
"This tunnel is far deeper than we thought. We must seek knowledge in the old records. Wellington may be of aid." The large Womble spoke slowly, his eyes continually scanning his surroundings.
"Right. Let's head back up then." Buffy decided.
They turned around to head back up the tunnel when suddenly a terrible wail came from below and a crash from above. The ceiling collapsed and tons of clay and loam fell down, blocking the exit. Buffy paled and drew Willow closer to herself. She reached for her phone and pressed the emergency call button. There was no result.
"Tomsk…do you have any idea how to get out of here?"
The Womble looked at the loam, leaned forward and patted it, then stuck out his tongue and tasted. His grimace was so strong even those unused to Womble expression recognized the disgust. "I think that our best chance may be to find another exit."
Buffy nodded. "I was afraid you were going to say that…I don't suppose your people use exit signs?"
"No. But Bungo leaves trail marks wherever he goes in unknown tunnels. That is one." The big Womble pointed at a bright red crayon mark on the dark wood of a nearby panel.
"Well at least we can follow them…I take it you would have told us if we hadn't been following them?"
"Of course. Shall we move on? Movement might help a little against the cold." The Womble set off, this time leading.
BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS
Xander caught up with Spike as the Vampire was beating on the door of Armoury. "Open up! It's an emergency!"
Xander cleared his throat. "What might the emergency be then?" Giles bustled up at the same time and joined the query.
"Indeed, what is so important?"
Spike groaned. "Hyde Park, there was a loam pit there in the fourteenth century. It was used to dispose of plague sufferers."
Giles nodded. "Ah, you need Hazmat suits? Against contagion?"
Spike gave him a blank look. "They weren't dead when they were disposed of, Watcher."
Xander gulped. Giles winced. "Ah, nasty. How many?"
"Hundreds, probably. One of the biggest Casarua in the world."
"And how do you know this when the Council has no records of the matter?" Giles asked pointedly.
"Council always was fond of the King, eh? Always played nice with the government. The way the Old Man told it he put the Thrall on Edward III and the Archbishop and they ordered a lot of peasants and merchants to be brought here before they were dead, thrown into the quarry and well, instant mystical cesspool of evil energy. The King and the archbishop were horrified later and hushed it up."
"That explains why we don't know, how is it that you do?"
Spike sighed. "The Old man, the Master, it was one of his plans, he was darn proud of it. A damn great pool of evil mystical energy, to be manipulated and abused, right next to, now in the middle of, London." Spike had fallen out of his working class accent and into his upper class one, a sure sign of him being upset.
"So, what do we do?" Xander asked rather diffidently.
"Gonna go in with the big guns, mate. Flamethrowers, bell, book candle. Gallons of Holy water. Wafers. Fragmentation grenades. Anything and everything really."
"Ah. We may need to contact an exorcist." Giles mused.
Xander looked alarmed. "Dawn isn't going to vomit Pea soup and twist her head around, is she?"
Spike snorted. "Knowin' the Slayer the Bit will be topside, poutin'"
"She's got a good pout." Xander pointed out, proudly.
"Yeah." Spike smiled reminiscently. He turned pointedly to Giles. "You gonna tell them to open the bleedin' door?"
Giles blinked and came out of his musing. "Oh, of course." He pressed the intercom button next to the door. "Millie, would you mind opening the door? We need some heavy equipment. And who do we have here right who are trained on using flamethrowers?"
"Buffy and Xander." The intercom answered.
"I can too." Spike added. Giles nodded.
"That give us two flamethrowers, but it would be very risky for you, Spike."
"Worth it. Can't let the Slayers and Red down."
"Spike, a single spark could set you ablaze." Xander pointed out quietly.
"I know how to use a flamethrower." A soft but determined voice came from behind them. Emma Knight, wearing a tight yellow and black cat suit that made Xander and Giles swallow and Spike whistle appreciatively. She smiled slightly.
"Good." The vampire nodded. "That'll save me getting' burned."
"We'll need a magic user, who do we have?" Xander asked as he thought about the roster of witches and warlocks.
"Errr…most of them won't be much use. Kelly is the most powerful one but she is deeply claustrophobic. Timothy and Lesley and Berenice are worn out by casting that Warding. And none of the others are able to filter out dark magic well enough to be risked." He frowned. "Willow will be highly uncomfortable, her former addiction t will make it difficult for her to use whatever energy is down there. The Devon coven is too far away."
"Crap. They're down there without magical back up." Spike said.
The door to the armoury opened and showed the large room beyond, filled with weapons ranging from newly whittled stakes to intricately forged blades to ancient blunderbusses and rocket launchers. An old battered Cromwell tank of World War II vintage sat in the corner of the room, painted white with the cross of St. George on it. Emma blinked at that one.
"Roight. Lets get armed and on the road." Spike started grabbing weapons and lobbing them at people.
Giles went to a large cupboard in the corner to get the bells, books and candles kept there for exorcisms. More sets were in the library. But the Armoury prided itself of having everything needed to fight practically everything. The Chief armourer, an eighteen year old Slayer named Millie who had suffered a terrible injury during the attacks by the First, laming her from the waist down, came driving up in her specially adapted wheelchair, dragging a cart loaded with barrels Flamethrower jelly. The four eleven year olds who had been sent down to her to serve detention were lugging a flamethrower each.
"We only have three people checked out on these Millie." Giles said as he piled three great copies of the Maleus Maleficarum on the table, three huge wax candles and three bronze bells next to them.
"Four. I'm coming with you." Millie said calmly.
"Millie…"
"No, Giles. You need people who can use this if you're up against a Casurua."
"How do you know what we're up against?" Xander asked.
"I kept my end of the intercom open." The wheel-chair bound blonde pointed out dryly. "Now, if everybody has their weapons? Let's roll!"
BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS
Willow was shivering and though the cold was fierce Buffy knew it was more than that. She moved next to her girlfriend and saw the slight tinges of black at the roots of her hair.
"Willow?" She asked worriedly. "How are you holding up?"
"They're trying to get in, Buffy…so many of them…so many voices…so dark…so alone…" Willow shivered. "They're trying to pour the Dark into me…I'm scared, Buffy!" Willow stumbled and blinked and her eyes turned black for a second. "NO! NEVER AGAIN!" Willow gritted her teeth and her eyes became green once more.
Buffy didn't hesitate. She picked up the witch and held her close, while walking swiftly to George. "We need to get Wills out of here. If they get her to go dark, you don't want to see that."
George nodded. "Yeah, I heard stories. Buffy? This place scares me. It's old and evil and full of pain and hate."
"Yeah. We need to book, right now. We are so not prepared for this. Heidi! Stay with the group!" Heidi had wandered off slightly and quickly hurried back.
"Sorry. I thought I felt something. That way." She gestured down a side tunnel.
George and Buffy exchanged looks. Heidi was a good, solid Slayer, but she hadn't shown her special talent yet. Not all Slayers had them, but most did. Sensing was a pretty good one to have.
"What sort of feeling?"
"Err…a bit like Tomsk…but stronger?" Heidi looked confused.
Buffy smiled. "Heidi, when we were up in the Burrow, did you sense the Wombles? As different from humans?"
"Err…I think so?" Heidi looked confused.
"Cool, you can detect non-humans who aren't demons. That may come in useful on occasion. Let's go down there and see if we can't find the source of your feeling." Buffy said cheerfully.
Heidi nodded, happy that she too had a 'special'.
Tomsk looked thoughtful. "I wonder if there is anything holding them there."
Buffy hugged Willow close. "If there is, we'll kick its butt! Come on, Heidi, go in front with George."
George smiled. "Good. Action. I can use a little action.
BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS BtVSBtVS
They tore past the gates of Hyde Park, pausing only long enough to pick up Dawn and Wellington. They couldn't reach Willow, Heidi or Buffy. George's phone was of course, a broken wreck. And then Spike halted the black van outside a set of gates that led to the rear of a familiar building.
Rupert Giles sat looking at the black varnished gates with some trepidation. "Are you sure we can just waltz in?"
"Yes." Spike said curtly. He opened the window nodded towards the guards and handed one of them an ID. "Call the Steward of the Palace. We've got an emergency." He added in a crisp, precise voice.
The guard blinked at the ID and nodded, reaching for the phone. "Yes, Sir!"
Xander's eyebrows rose. "Do I want to know what's on that?"
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Spike said absentmindedly. For some strange reason none of the passengers thought he was joking.
The guard at the gate lifted the heavy barrier by pressing a button after inserting and tuning a key, allowing the car to drive up to the gates proper, where the ID was checked again and then the gates rolled back. The van drove on. "We need to get to the Gallery."
"The Gallery? You want to go look at art at a time like this?" Dawn asked in a cold voice.
Spike rolled his eyes. "No, Bit. That's the site of the old Chapel. And in the old basement, which is still there, is an alternative entrance to the Hyde Park tunnels."
"Oh. Okay." Dawn said slightly ashamed she'd doubted the Vampire.
"And you will be staying in the Gallery." Xander said firmly.
"Excuse me?" Dawn bristled. "The fact you are my boyfriend does not make you the boss of me, Alexander Lavelle Harris!"
"Not. The fact I am the Director of Operations makes me the boss of you during a field operation, Dawn Frances Summers, and the fact that you haven't shown up for a single Combat training in the past six months is the reason you aren't going on this mission!" Xander's single eye was firm and Dawn swallowed and quailed under his glare.
"And we will be talking about those missed training sessions as well." Xander added dryly.
Spike grinned. "He's got you there, Niblett." He parked the car and the other cars followed suit. Emma Knight got out of the van that held the weaponry and looked at the Gallery and the surrounding buildings. She hadn't visited the Palace often, but often enough to note the differences, subtle and not so subtle, to the complex.
She saw Dawn Summers sulkily leave the car and stomp off to the Gallery. The others congregated at the back of the van and started unloading the weaponry. Emma lifted an eyebrow at Giles. "I assume that Miss Summers will not be joining us?"
"Miss Summers has missed far too many training sessions of late." Giles said absentmindedly as he checked a large modified pressure tank that held holy water.
"I haven't had many myself."
"You brought down two Slayers before they took you seriously. I'd say you're qualified." Xander checked a machete and axe and handed a rapier to Emma, who raised an eyebrow.
"Looks like your sort of weapon." He shrugged.
"It is. Thank you."
The group gathered their equipment and set off into the Gallery. A tall man was waiting, in dressing gown and with his grey hair mussed, wearing tartan slippers, woollen socks and a set of dark blue pyjamas stood waiting inside the door. "Sir William, good evening."
Spike waved a lazy hand "Heya Rodney. I need to get into the basement." The vampire replied with a smirk.
The man sighed. "You could learn some of the social niceties, you know." He took a set of keys from the pocket of his nightgown and led them off.
"Know them all, Rod. Not nearly as much fun usin' them as not." Spike smirked.
"You can tell that to Her Majesty once you've re emerged. She'll no doubt want to know what went on under her home."
"Not the home. We need the Dark Tunnel."
Sir Rodney dropped his keys. "What? Whatever for?"
"Three Slayers down there and a Witch. Including the Slayer and the Witch."
"Oh dear." Sir Rodney had picked up his keys and let the group down a narrow cylindrical staircase that ended in a large crypt. He went to a side chapel, opened the dark, rusty gate, let them through, closed the gate and led them behind an ancient and decaying altar. A wooden door, ancient and seeming to emanate evil was behind it, heavily barred and locked. Sir Rodney opened it with difficulty, the locks on the door and the padlocks on the bars resisting due to years of neglect. The door creaked open and the smell of death flowed from the dark tunnel behind it, and an icy cold followed. The electric lights flickered and dimmed.
Spike nodded. "Yeah. That's about what I remember. Everybody got his or her coat? It's a mite cold down there."