Remember, Remember the Fifth of November

[unit_girl]

It was much easier to organise the second time round. Even if Evey seemed less than excited about the party aspect, last year's Bonfire Night had been enough of a success to do it all again. Which was good because somehow it wasn't the 5th November without fireworks and they were something you never grew out of

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[teenagerenegade]

In the Fall, his parent's gardener used to burn dry leaves and, sometimes, he used to let a very small Charlie Bartlett hold his hand and watch while the fire burned. When Charlie was very little, it was one of his favourite parts of the year. This is a very different fire, but, for the firs time in years, maybe Charlie's got someone to hold his hand tonight.

That makes it kind of special.

[giftless]

He had a glass of wine in each hand when he found Charlie again, so, after he had given one to the other boy, Edmund's hand was just a little cool as he slipped it into Charlie's. "Thank you for coming," he said, though he likely didn't need to. "I know it's not really your holiday, but it's one of my favorite days of the year."

[teenagerenegade]

Charlie twines his fingers through Edmund's, squeezing his hand and drawing him close, sipping his wine and turning his face so the heat of the fire is only bleeding against one cheek.

"Like I need asking to be wherever you are," he says, quietly, and presses a kiss in front of Ed's ear.

[giftless]

"You're worse than me," Edmund laughed quietly, but there was no condemnation in it and all fondness in his smile. "I'm just glad you're here."

[coffee_sir]

Ianto personally couldn't resist a good Guy Fawkes party, even if he hadn't been providing the alcohol. The stores were running low as the end of the year approached, but there was still plenty of wine and lesser-quality-but-still-good liquors available. But with the refrain of 'remember, remember' echoing through his head, it was hard not to take a moment simply to stare at the flames and think about the unfortunate truth of what he had lost in the past year. What, but really more specifically who. He lost less back home at Torchwood, but then again he was less back home. Everything evened out in its own way, eventually.

[1000_cranes]

She reads the expression on his face and slips close, her hand in his, and she lifts it, and presses a kiss to each of his knuckles, then leans up to graze his cheek.

"I love you," she whispers into his ear.

[coffee_sir]

Sometimes, when he didn't know what he wanted or needed, it was nice to have Charlie there, just to hold. She had a warmth about her that no bonfire could match.

"Rwy'n dy gari di," he replied, turning his head to press a kiss to her forehead and wrapping his arm around her shoulders without losing her hand.

[1000_cranes]

Her free arm goes around his waist, holding him close and, for a moment, she just tucks her face in his shoulder, away from the heat of the fire.

"I ain't even gonna offer you a penny for them."

[fear_no_words]

Uhura didn't know what the party was for, but it was a party and it was hard to miss. She made herself at home with a glass of something to warm her, seated on an errant bit of driftwood somewhere between the flames and the treeline. Fire entranced and frightened her, more so the latter when she stared too long at the dancing flames and breathed too deeply of the smoke. So she kept her eyes on the people and the sky and the sea, ignoring the memories that popped into her mind with every snap and crack of wood turning to embers.

[spirited_hero]

[fear_no_words]

By the same token, Uhura took to calling her students by their last names. It was for the best probably; she wasn't used to teaching in a formal setting and getting too familiar would make the whole thing degenerate into a kind of small club with only three of them there. Not a great loss, but not something to aim for.

Outside of the little schoolhouse was another matter entirely. "Evening, Mr. Dincht," she replied, smiling warmly as the heat from the fire danced over her skin. "I'm well. How are you?"

[spirited_hero]

[patriotqueen]

Fire, drinks, and songs; a perfect night in Guy's opinion. (Not Guy Fawkes, obviously, he probably didn't like the fire as much, or the drinking and singing at his expense while he stood there to die at the stake.) Oh, the songs they sang at school;

Guy, guy, guy
Poke him in the eye,
Put him on the bonfire,
And there let him die.

Guy could have been horribly teased with such lyrics, had it not been for the fact that he sang them louder than everyone else.

And did so here too. "Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t'was his intent, to blow up the King and Parliment!..."

[niceofyoutoask]

"So tell me, are there actually songs about this Guy Fawkes guy, or are you just improvising?" Lipton asked, drawing up beside him, somewhat perplexed by this whole day. He'd heard of Guy Fawkes, of course, but didn't quite understand the yearly celebration component - it wasn't exactly a holiday championed by the Americans.

[patriotqueen]

"No, no. There are songs, there are many songs," Guy said cheerfully (drunkenly), and started his song again. "Remember, remember the fifth of November, the gunpowder treason and plot. I know of no reason, why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot."

[niceofyoutoask]

"Catchy." Lipton commented, grinning. While burning a man in effigy over a bonfire every year seemed a bit like overkill, he had to admit it fostered a very festive atmosphere. "So tell me, what's so important about gunpowder treason and plot that cannot be forgot?"

[giftless]

Attendance at Guy Fawkes was required, or so Edmund had told Charlie. Edmund still retained a childlike fascination with fire, and a certainly juvenile glee at the prospect of things exploding. That there was food and drink involved only sealed the deal.

He didn't try to bake potatoes again this year, not after how disastrously things had turned out previously. But he had done his part to help out by collecting firewood, and felt well within his rights to enjoy a holiday he knew, as opposed to Halloween.

[percy_jackson]

"Hey, Edmund!" I called, happy to see another familiar face. "Great party, eh?"

[giftless]

"Excellent," he agreed, giving Percy a hearty grin. "Even better if I don't try to cook again. I made a bit of a mess last year."

[percy_jackson]

"It's a bonfire," I said, in mild disbelief. "It's not real barbecue unless you have some of it on you." I'd read that at a restaurant somewhere during my travels across America. "How bad could it have been?"