BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER

ODIUM

CHAPTER THREE: INFORMATION, BLOOD AND WEETABIX

Buffy wiped the sweat from her brow with one hand as the other, pounded out a steady rhythm against the punch bag. Outside the first rays of dawn were just starting to appear over the horizon. She'd been here for two hours now, training hard while Giles sat in the corner, nursing ever-stronger cups of coffee in an attempt to stay awake as he rifled through a stack of old tomes.

"And you're sure it was King you saw in your dream?" he said taking a sip from his latest mug.

"Let me think," said Buffy as she turned to the nearby training dummy, nearly taking its head clean off with a severe right hook. "Long girly ponytail, big nasty sword tattoo by the right eye, giant pyramid surrounded by blood…" she nodded toward the original book they had discovered some details in. Giles held up his hands in surrender.

"Alright, alright, it was King who was in your dream, but you know that doesn't necessarily mean he's free."

"Yeah, I know." She reached out and grabbing a cloth from a nearby rack. "Its just that this dream was so vivid."

"King did nearly kill you Buffy." Said Giles. "The way you reacted to the last vampire who did that was, shall we say, a little less restrained." Buffy turned and gave him a slanted look.

"Giles, that was nearly a year ago." She said, wiping the sweat from her brow. "I think if I was going to break down over that then I would have done it by now." Giles gave a defeated shrug.

"I suppose it pays to be cautious." Buffy smiled.

"Thanks Giles." She threw the soaking cloth into the room's corner. "When are the others coming?" she asked.

"I rang them as soon as you asked." He frowned, "None of them were too happy at being woken up so early in the morning."

"Never mind that." Said Buffy, not really listening to him. "as soon as they get here get them researching."

"What about you?" Asked Giles. She glanced out of the window at the faint sunlight.

"He's a legend among vampires right," she said, "I'm going to go talk to one."

*****

The cemetery was quiet in the faint light. Too quiet for Buffy's liking. She fingered her stake restlessly as she stood at the edge of a clump of bushes. She wasn't on patrol but that was no excuse to be careless. Vampires didn't wait for her to go on patrol before they went on the hunt. Buffy wasn't scared of most vampires. But King, King was something else. The last time they had met he had nearly killed her and her friends. But that wasn't what made her dread him. What made her dread was how different he was. He had been different to any other vampire she'd ever met. He hadn't treated her like an enemy or a rival. He'd treated her like an insect. To him she had been something that was so beneath his attention he hadn't even intended to kill her. That had just been a bi product. Her thoughts were jolted back to the present by a rustling in the bush behind her. She moved like greased lightning, spinning rapidly on the spot to bring her stake up, ready to turn her assailant to dust.

"White flag! White flag!" yelled a startled looking figure with peroxide blonde hair and a broad English accent.

"Spike!" Buffy said sounding surprised. "Just the vamp I've been looking for."

"You've got a bloody funny way of showing it!" The white haired vampire shot back as he bent down to pick up the contents of a brown paper bag he'd dropped.

"Been late night grocery shopping?" she said, nodding at the bag.

"Something like that." He replied throwing a plastic mug into the bag with such force Buffy was surprised it didn't come straight out of the other end. She glanced down at the other items. Some packets of blood and…

"Weetabix!" she said, mildly surprised.

"Ask Giles." He said, snatching up the box of cereal and throwing it into the bag with the rest of his shopping seeming slightly embarrassed. He was about to walk away when Buffy caught him by the arm.

"Spike," she said, feeling the need to swallow her pride a little. "I need to ask you something."

"Listen Buffy," he snapped, "If you're going to try and stake me, fine. If you want to ask me some questions, fine. But can we just do it inside so I don't turn into a crispy kebab when the sun comes over the horizon in about five minutes time?" He turned and stomped off into the crypt. Buffy stood for a moment before following him

*****

Buffy was always surprised at just what the crypt looked like inside. It felt more like a living room than someone's final resting place. The large stone sarcophagus at the end of the chamber was acting as a makeshift table while a variety of other household items including easy chairs and a bookshelf giving the crypt a surprisingly warm feel.

"Cosy." She said trying to clear the atmosphere that always seemed to gather when she was around the English vamp. Spike shot her a venomous look.

"I try my best." He spat at her.

"Why am I not surprised?" She laughed

"Now you listen here missy…"

"Spike!" Buffy interrupted him. "It's late…"

"Early." Spike said

"I'm tired…"

"I'm not."

"And," Buffy cut him off again, "I need information." Spike dropped his bag of groceries onto the sarcophagus, tore open a packet of blood from within and squeezed the contents into his new plastic mug.

"I'm not really up on current events anymore." He said, a hint of bitterness entering his voice. "Not since I started hanging around you and your little Scooby friends."

"It's a good job it's not a current event." Said Buffy, her eyes widened as he opened the box of Weetabix, crunched them up in his fist before dropping the pieces into the mug of blood and stirring it with his finger.

"Give me one reason." He said.

"Spike," she replied sweetly, making sure he could see the stake. "Remember which of us has the sharp pointy piece of wood." The English vampire sucked his finger clean with a thoughtful look on his face.

"What do you want to know?" he said finally.

"I want you to tell me everything you know about a vampire called King." Spike nearly spat out the blood he'd been drinking as he choked back a laugh.

"What's so funny?" she demanded, brandishing the stake higher. Spike shrugged at her and gulped back his disgusting combination of blood and Weetabix.

"You're asking about a myth Buffy, he's not real. What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me the myth." She said simply. The vampires face straightened as he stared at her.

"You're serious!" he said, sounding mildly surprised.

"Always. Now tell me what you know about him." Spike drained the last of his blood and sat down in a nearby chair. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.

"Take a seat." He said, gesturing toward a sofa that looked older than the Roman civilisation.

" Cut the crap and just tell me what I want to know!" Buffy said, her voice filled with contempt. Spike gave an exasperated snarl.

"Sit down Slayer and I'll tell you!" he snapped. Buffy shook her head in surrender and slumped down into the crusty old couch. Spike was obviously in one of his moods. Of course that was the rule of his temperament rather than the exception.

"At last." Spike said giving a sigh.

"Spike!" Buffy snapped. "Are you going to tell me about King or not?" He leaned back in his chair and frowned. "What can I say." He said taking a deep drag on his cigarette. "He's our King Arthur."

"What do you mean?" Buffy said, leaning forward with interest. She knew so little of King's background that anything Spike could tell would be an improvement on what she knew already.

"He's to vampires what King Arthur is to people. He believed in a particular code for us to follow. It might not quite be chivalry but it was the closest a vampire could get. He didn't believe in senseless killing or killing for pleasure. He believed in killing with a purpose. He had his own kingdom, like Arthur had Camelot." Spike laughed darkly, "Hell Slayer, he even had his own Excalibur. A Black bladed sword called that he called Odium."

"All this I know Spike." Buffy said with a groan. "Don't you know anything else?"

"Give me a chance to get going Slayer!" The peroxide vampire snapped. He gave a sigh as he settled back into his chair. "Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, King was our King Arthur. The whole kingdom collapsed thanks to one vampire."

"Yeah," said Buffy, "King burned down the kingdom." The vampire looked at her like she had just insulted a war hero.

"He burned it down because he was betrayed. One of his 'subjects'," Spike practically spat the word. "Tried to spread a new belief in the kingdom. When King saw it had become corrupt and decadent he destroyed the kingdom as punishment." The vampire frowned.

"Since when have you showed an interest in vampire mythology?" Buffy stared at him evenly.

"Since the myth walked into Sunnydale." Spike reacted as if someone was tickling him under the armpits. His laughter was a howl that made Buffy a little nervous.

"Bugger me Slayer!" he roared, practically rolling on the floor. "That's like you saying Santa Clause does come down the chimney at Christmas. How many times do I have to tell you he's not real!?"

"Maybe you ought to say it one more time for the hearing impaired." The gravely voice from the entrance to the crypt sent a shiver down Buffy's spine. It was a voice she knew all too well. Slowly she turned to face the man stood behind her. She knew exactly what she was going to see. The smile of greeting on King's mouth never touched his cold brown eyes.

"Hello Slayer." He said darkly.

"So you are free." She said, trying her best to hide her emotions behind a passive mask. King ignored her. Instead he turned to face Spike.

"Socialising with vampires Slayer," he shot her a raised eyebrow, "I take it this isn't Angel?" Spike was on his feet in an instant. He looked furious.

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean!" Kings hand shot out rattlesnake fast and wrapped around the peroxide vampires throat. With a deep snarl his grip tightened as he lifted Spike effortlessly off the ground.

"I wasn't talking to you." He growled. Buffy watched in horror as the ancient vampire hurled Spike across the tomb. The British vampires head collided against the solid stonewall with a loud crack as he slumped to the ground unconscious.

"Silence at last." King whispered to himself. Slowly he turned to face her as he lowered himself down into Spike's chair. He leaned forward and locked his fingers together.

"So Slayer," his tone was almost conversational, "How did you know I was free, hmm?" He paused for a moment as he stared at her, his brow furrowed slightly. Then, a gradual smile spread across his face. "You've been dreaming haven't you." It was a flat statement. A cold dread gripped Buffy's heart. He knew! How had he known? Buffy swallowed deeply.

"Look King," she hissed in as savage a voice as she could muster, "If we're done with the creepy small talk can we just get down to the fighting."

"So the Slayer shows her brashness." The vampire gave another of his ice-cold smiles as he stood up. "We don't fight yet Slayer."

"And why not?" She shivered as he placed a pale, sinewy hand on her shoulder.

"Because you're not learning yet." He withdrew his hand from her shoulder and strode out of the tomb.

*****

The door to the tomb slammed shut behind King as he walked off through the cemetery. That had felt good. All the time he'd sat in that dank depressing little hole in the ground had lead to something approaching apprehension about confronting her. In the end he had had nothing to fear. She had been far more wary of him than he had been of her. He had smelled it in the air. There had been other things he'd detected in there. The scent of the vampire she had called Spike had been peculiar. He had never felt detected such a strong sense of passion from a vampire before. It was almost as if… well, as if he loved her.

A steady breeze tossed a pile of dead leaves into the air nearby. King remembered how love felt. Even as a demon, the pain it could bring was unbearable. It had been so long and he could still feel it. He turned and glanced back at the tomb. Could that Spike really love the Slayer? King shook his head and laughed. Soon it wouldn't matter what that vampire felt for her. Could his love still flourish when the object of his desire was a corpse? King knew all too well how it couldn't. A copy of the local rag of a paper fluttered limply against his leg. He bent and snatched the paper from where it lay. He was about to discard it when he caught sight of the headline. He scratched the sword tattoo next to his eye.

"Very interesting." He said.