A.N.: After I finished this story, I got a few complaints from readers that
wondered why I made so little of a story with so much potential. I had to
say they were right and so I tried something a little different AND longer
this time (. The first two chapters remain the same but from here, things
will change. Hope you like it!
The Choice: Chapter 3
The next morning Spike woke up with a slight headache. It vaguely reminded him of the fact he was human now. His back hurt from sleeping in the soft bed. In short, he felt like an old man.
"I'm supposed to be twenty-five and I feel ancient. Stupid human body." He grumbled.
He didn't bother to dress properly, a shirt and a pair of trousers was enough, and walked downstairs. He was the first of the family downstairs and he tried to remember where the kitchen was.
"Right. Where are you, Hudson?"
The cook stuck his head around the corner.
"Master William, what a surprise to see you up so early. Would you care for some breakfast?"
"That would be great, thank you."
He sat himself down and began to read the newspaper. He was quite curious to see if any mysterious murders had happened in the past few days. Of course this was London, but you never knew that Angelus left some evidence. Engrossed in his reading he didn't notice his sister until she sat opposite of him.
"I'm beginning to think you have lost your mind, dear brother."
"Janey . . . You startled me."
"This is the first time I see you reading something other than all kinds of poems. Your behaviour yesterday was not normal. Is there something wrong?"
He smiled at her. Such a change in a short period of time must be hard to understand.
"I have decided to step into the world, nothing more. You have nothing to worry about. Trust me." He walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek.
"Tell mother I'm going for a walk."
"William, you know she doesn't like it if you're in London by yourself. It's too dangerous."
"Dangerous! Bloody hell, Janey, I'm a grown man! I'm not some weakling who has to be protected for the rest of his life."
"She's still grieving for father, Will. I don't think she can bear it if she lost you too."
Spike remembered the evening vaguely that his father hadn't returned home from his weekly get-together with his friends. His mother was sick from worry. His father was found a week after, stabbed in the back and robbed of his money. There could only have passed a few months.
"It's daylight outside. I will be careful, I promise."
Without listening to Janeys begging to stay inside he put on a long coat and hat and left the house. He breathed in the air of a long forgotten city. How he had longed for this moment on all his journeys. But he never had had the chance to return, Druscilla hated the city too much. Only in the seventies of the next century he went back and he found a modern metropolis. The demon had loved the new London, the human had cried for the loss of his beloved city.
Spike carefully avoided the places he had gone as a vampire. He knew the hide-out of Angelus, Darla and Druscilla and he did not care for an encounter. In stead he kept to sunny places as the park, where he seemed to be the talk of the town.
"That's him! He rejected Cecily Beaulieu."
"Isn't that William the Bloody?"
"The man with his awful poetry? That is impossible, William the Bloody is afraid of his own shadow."
Eric Vinere, one of the young noblemen of London, had the courage to go up to Spike. One as popular as William had to be a part of their social group.
"Sir!"
"What can I help you with?"
"We. . . My friends and I were just wondering if you care to join us."
"I'd like that, thank you."
He let them take him to the nearest bar to drink and share stories.
"You know William, we have heard something quite. . . let us say amazing. There have been rumours that you have turned down the love of your life. And you made a fool out of Joshua Harpor."
"You don't exactly need much to make a fool out of him. He is too full of himself. Cecily was a mistake, a phase in my life."
"No more poetry?"
"I have finished with that."
"Thank God! You're an okay guy, William Ashton. We will be happy if you join us. It was your poetry that kept us apart."
Spike smiled at the boys, not sure if they were sincere. He had never been in this situation before and let it be for the moment.
"Let us drink to that then."
The Choice: Chapter 3
The next morning Spike woke up with a slight headache. It vaguely reminded him of the fact he was human now. His back hurt from sleeping in the soft bed. In short, he felt like an old man.
"I'm supposed to be twenty-five and I feel ancient. Stupid human body." He grumbled.
He didn't bother to dress properly, a shirt and a pair of trousers was enough, and walked downstairs. He was the first of the family downstairs and he tried to remember where the kitchen was.
"Right. Where are you, Hudson?"
The cook stuck his head around the corner.
"Master William, what a surprise to see you up so early. Would you care for some breakfast?"
"That would be great, thank you."
He sat himself down and began to read the newspaper. He was quite curious to see if any mysterious murders had happened in the past few days. Of course this was London, but you never knew that Angelus left some evidence. Engrossed in his reading he didn't notice his sister until she sat opposite of him.
"I'm beginning to think you have lost your mind, dear brother."
"Janey . . . You startled me."
"This is the first time I see you reading something other than all kinds of poems. Your behaviour yesterday was not normal. Is there something wrong?"
He smiled at her. Such a change in a short period of time must be hard to understand.
"I have decided to step into the world, nothing more. You have nothing to worry about. Trust me." He walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek.
"Tell mother I'm going for a walk."
"William, you know she doesn't like it if you're in London by yourself. It's too dangerous."
"Dangerous! Bloody hell, Janey, I'm a grown man! I'm not some weakling who has to be protected for the rest of his life."
"She's still grieving for father, Will. I don't think she can bear it if she lost you too."
Spike remembered the evening vaguely that his father hadn't returned home from his weekly get-together with his friends. His mother was sick from worry. His father was found a week after, stabbed in the back and robbed of his money. There could only have passed a few months.
"It's daylight outside. I will be careful, I promise."
Without listening to Janeys begging to stay inside he put on a long coat and hat and left the house. He breathed in the air of a long forgotten city. How he had longed for this moment on all his journeys. But he never had had the chance to return, Druscilla hated the city too much. Only in the seventies of the next century he went back and he found a modern metropolis. The demon had loved the new London, the human had cried for the loss of his beloved city.
Spike carefully avoided the places he had gone as a vampire. He knew the hide-out of Angelus, Darla and Druscilla and he did not care for an encounter. In stead he kept to sunny places as the park, where he seemed to be the talk of the town.
"That's him! He rejected Cecily Beaulieu."
"Isn't that William the Bloody?"
"The man with his awful poetry? That is impossible, William the Bloody is afraid of his own shadow."
Eric Vinere, one of the young noblemen of London, had the courage to go up to Spike. One as popular as William had to be a part of their social group.
"Sir!"
"What can I help you with?"
"We. . . My friends and I were just wondering if you care to join us."
"I'd like that, thank you."
He let them take him to the nearest bar to drink and share stories.
"You know William, we have heard something quite. . . let us say amazing. There have been rumours that you have turned down the love of your life. And you made a fool out of Joshua Harpor."
"You don't exactly need much to make a fool out of him. He is too full of himself. Cecily was a mistake, a phase in my life."
"No more poetry?"
"I have finished with that."
"Thank God! You're an okay guy, William Ashton. We will be happy if you join us. It was your poetry that kept us apart."
Spike smiled at the boys, not sure if they were sincere. He had never been in this situation before and let it be for the moment.
"Let us drink to that then."