Chapter Five: More than a Lifetime of Choices
As they drew closer to Frenchmen, Spike saw movement in the corner of his peripheral vision, and his mind flagged the complete lack of heartbeat in the shadows. The vampire was lingering and seemed to move with them. Spike had detected another vampire earlier on Bourbon but knew that Gershwin and Liz were behind them, so he’d left that one to the young Slayer.
Something about being followed disconcerted him, but he didn’t question it too much because he had a now sleeping Asher to think of and Clem to get to Spotted Cat, which was close by. His friend kept nattering on – this time about the river cruise he took through Europe. The kitten had curled up in the crook of his arm and was somehow sleeping.
After a few more streets, Spike’s annoyance reached a peak, and he let Clem continue to talk while he retrieved a stake from his boot without waking his son.
Clem hesitated only a moment, his eyes widening at the sight of the bit of wood. He gently stroked the kitten’s head as they kept moving forward. “You know, I’m really enjoying traveling. I just wish I could find someone to travel with me.”
“I’d take you up, but I’m a bit tied down here.” Spike had gone everywhere with Dru, and he’d seen and done things most people only dreamed of being able to do, but now, he was strangely content to pass his days in the Big Easy with Buffy and his boy. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
Clem studied Spike’s face as they slowed down, approaching the corner where the vampire was lingering. The fledge really wasn’t stealthy. “You really love being a dad.”
Spike softened and regarded the honey blonde hair on the top of his son’s head. He still smelled so new. Spike never got tired of that scent.
The stalking vampire launched himself forward with arms raised and a low growl as Spike and his little caravan rounded the building.
Spike rolled his eyes and held out the stake, easily puncturing the heart and stepping back and away from the resulting dust. “Can’t have Asher inhaling leftover vamp.” It was going to be bad enough that the nipper was going to be breathing secondhand smoke in the minute or two he was in the Spotted Cat. Spike had given up smoking for his son, and to be honest, for Buffy, too, in the interest of keeping them both around as long as possible. His wife risked enough still slaying, and he’d be damned if he gave her or his son lung cancer on top of everything else. He wasn’t sure Slayer healing powers could handle the big-C.
“Ah,” Clem said, scratching his head. “That guy wasn’t very bright, was he?”
“Yeah. Weird. They don’t normally walk straight into a stake.” Spike checked to make sure Asher was still asleep. He was – his cheek pressed into Spike’s chest. His black T-shirt was damp from drool.
“Asher ok?” Clem asked as they resumed their journey.
Spike ran his hand down Asher’s back. “He’s still sleeping.”
“Wow.”
Spike offered Clem a smile. “Sprog can sleep through a hurricane. Random fledge with little bite? That’s nothing.”
Clem laughed. “I guess it was pretty uneventful. And I guess he has to be used to it with his mom and dad doing what they do and being who they are.”
“Yeah.” Spike and Buffy had talked several times about how to handle the supernatural in little Asher’s world. It added a whole new layer to their parenting that other parents didn’t have. The wolf and witch had similar qualms about having a babe of their own though they’d only started trying of late.
“You worry about any baddies coming after him? Targeting him for kidnapping and ransom?” Clem helped the now awake kitten up onto his shoulder where she perched, watching everything like a bird with fur, pointy teeth, and a swishing tail that moved of its own accord.
Spike shrugged. “No more worried than any reasonable parent would be in our situation. It’s like I told Buffy. We are better equipped than most parents to handle that sort of thing, and all we can do is keep our eyes open.”
“That is a very good point.”
The evening was still young as Spike led Clem down Frenchmen, and not many people were out and about yet. The ones who were out were headed to dinner or to the Spotted Cat. It had been Spike’s idea to have a few hours of karaoke prior to the live band that came on later in the evening, and the idea had been a huge hit, attracting more guests much earlier in the evening. When they approached, Spike could hear someone belting out an off-key rendition of “Sweet Home Alabama.”
Clem’s face lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw the sign and realized this was their destination. He pointed at the door. “Is that – ?”
“Yeah, mate. It’s where I work, and I remember how much you love karaoke.” Spike pushed open the door. The smoke wasn’t too bad – yet. “Grab a table, and I’ll send over a song list and a beer.”
Clem was already scanning the room. “Thank you! Erm, is kitty allowed?”
Spike waved a hand at him. “You don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it. No one will bother you. Most people in the city take their dogs everywhere.” There were several bars that catered to dogs around town, and he and Buffy had once taken out a few shapeshifters who’d been making the rounds at the dog bars and posing as canines to capture their dinner.
Clem reached a protective hand up to the kitten and searched the room worriedly.
Spike clapped a hand on his free shoulder as he went past his friend toward the bar. “No dogs here. Go. Relax.”
Clem exchanged a smile with Spike and nodded before heading across the way.
When Spike made it to the bar, Alex, his co-worker, had both her hands on her hips and a what-the-hell-are-you-doing expression on her lined face. She and Spike had been working together for a long time, and she knew at least some about the supernatural. She had her own tales that rivaled Spike’s. Buffy had been jealous of the bartender’s sexy voice until they’d met one another and become fast friends, probably because they both called Spike on his bullshit. “What are you doing?!”
“Now don’t go all Mother Hen on me. I’m just droppin’ off my friend before heading home with Ash.” His was still asleep even with the music. Spike wished he had some of those noise-canceling headphones for infants. “Need a copy of the song list and an Abita. Bottle.”
A new song started, the sound much quieter than the end of the last song. Alex dropped her voice to match the change while sliding Spike a laminated list and then opening a beer. She smirked and nodded toward the corner stage. “Looks like you’re staying for at least one song.”
Spike glanced over his shoulder and saw Clem motioning him up on stage. Oh, bloody hell.
“C’mon up, partner!” Clem half-shouted into the microphone. He addressed the guy in charge of the sound system. “Pause it a sec.”
The music carried on for a few more beats and then stopped. Spike tried to wave Clem off by pointing at the snoozing Asher and shaking his head.
“Now, don’t be shy,” Clem urged, continuing to wave him forward. “Plenty of room up here with me.”
Several of the crowd turned Spike’s way. When a table of his regulars saw him, they beamed at him and nodded with expectation. Damn it all to hell. What if Buffy got home before he did and discovered him and the baby gone?
Clem was rattling off, “Truth be told, he’s a way better singer than me. And trust me, I know. We used to get drunk together and belt out some tunes at his crypt in Sunnydale before he went to Africa and got himself a soul!”
Oh, god, stupid sod was acting like this karaoke number was a bloody concert, and he was bellowing out Spike’s whole history. He could only hope the patrons thought it was all metaphorical. He’d better get up there before Clem kept adding to the rambling.
Spike held up his hand. “All right! All right.”
“All right!” Clem was way too excited about this. “Let’s give him a hand, folks!”
Alex moved around the bar and raised her arms with both eyebrows lifted. “Hand over your little one. I’ll take him in the back. Keep him quiet.”
Spike smiled at her gratefully and began unstrapping the complicated carrier, careful to keep his son steady. Alex lifted the boy from the carrier and cradled him expertly against her body. Spike then handed her the backpack and now empty carrier. He watched a piece of his heart head to the back room, which was soundproofed and quiet. The owner kept a bed back there for overnight shifts or for breaks. Spike and Buffy had enjoyed the bed together on a couple of evenings when he’d been stuck during daylight hours and had another early shift the next day. It was somehow more comfortable than the cot in the Sunnydale basement.
Spike turned to the sea of faces, who were still watching.
Plastering a winning grin on his face, he hurried to join Clem on the small stage where he dodged the kitten that was playfully batting at a set of wires. Great. He nudged the kitten away from the potential disaster with the toe of his Docs and accepted the microphone Clem offered.
The music started again, and Spike glanced up at the screen nearby to see that the song was a familiar one: “Once in a Lifetime” by the Talking Heads. Huh. Ironic.
“Go, Spike!” called Ben’s girlfriend; Spike forgot her name. She was new. He nodded toward the group whose members all raised their drinks to him.
Clem whispered to him, “Thanks for joining me. I get way too nervous at these things by myself. You take the main lyrics, and I’ll join you in the chorus?”
Spike inhaled deeply and tried to clear his thoughts. Dru had made him watch the music video over and over when it came out in the 80’s. She’d been mesmerized by the lyrics and the movements that David Byrne made. She said the way he “delivered his message” spoke to her like the angels did, and she needed time to decipher the meaning. Spike only remembered because she’d been angry with him and kicked him out for a week and for no apparent reason other than he’d hurt her in some way that he couldn’t fathom. This was not his favorite song, and he didn’t remember putting it on the menu. “Right.”
The kitten pounced on his foot right as the lyrics for the first verse appeared on the screen, and he half-spoke, half-sang the words, “And you may find yourself, Living in a shotgun shack, And you may find yourself, In another part of the world, And you may find yourself, Behind the wheel of a large automobile, And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, With a beautiful wife. . .”
The irony of the words was not lost on him, and as they reached the chorus when Clem joined him, Spike relaxed into the rhythm of the beat and the flow of the music. Even the kitten trying to climb his leg didn’t faze him, and he realized that he knew exactly how he got here and now with Buffy and his son and their life. And he wouldn’t trade one step for the world. No wonder Dru had kicked him out, cheated on him, and done any number of things to push him away. She’d known all along that she’d lose him.
As the song flew by, more and more of the audience members joining in with the chorus at each repetition, and Spike and Clem stepped off the stage to applause and catcalls. Clem rescued his kitten from the top of a speaker off to the side, and he and Spike wove their way back to the bar as someone else took the spotlight.
“Thanks for doing that,” Clem said when they reached their destination. “I know you want to get home, but it was really nice of you to stay for me.”
Spike clapped a hand on Clem’s shoulder. “It’s not often we get the chance to catch up. I’d do it again.”
Clem pulled him into a hug. “I appreciate it.”
“Stay. Beer’s on me.”
Settling on a stool, Clem spread both arms and leaned back on the bar. “Don’t mind if I do. I’ll crash out at my hotel later. Have a great night and congrats on the little one. He’s absolutely adorable.” His eyes flicked away. “And are you sure you’re okay about Harmony?”
Spike snorted. “Of course. I’d tell you if I wasn’t. Like I said, we’re long over and done.”
Clem made eye contact again. “She talks too much,” he reiterated. Then, he put his hand up to his mouth as if he were sharing a secret, “And if I’m being really honest, her skin’s way too tight for me.”
Spike laughed. “Next time you’re in town, you have to let me know. Buffy and I’d be glad to put you up.” Saying goodbye made Spike realize how much he missed Clem already. Maybe there was something to Buffy suggesting he hang out with his demon friends.
Clem gave him a little salute. “Will do. And I want to hold the little lad next time.”
Spike rushed to check on Asher. He found Alex sitting on the bed in the back room, cuddling the sleeping baby against her body and swaying slowly back and forth. With his head on her shoulder, he was fast asleep.
She kept her eyes on the baby. “I couldn’t resist. He’s just so sweet.”
“He is at that.” Spike pushed one hand in his jeans and heard a soft meow and purring on the ground by his feet. The white kitten was free of the diaper bag and was happily eating some canned tuna. Spike had no idea where Alex had found the food. “See you found this little Simba, too. Thanks for feeding him.”
“Nala,” Alex corrected. “He’s a she. And you’re welcome.”
“Oh.”
“You’re keeping her,” Alex stated and then looked up at him with a serious expression. “You’re not gambling her, and Asher needs a pet. Teaches empathy and caregiving skills.”
“How did you know about – ”
Alex held up her hand. “Don’t ask. Just do what I say.” She was always full of surprises like the time she figured out he was a vampire and was almost blasé about the discovery.
“Will do.” Spike sat on the edge of the bed next to her. “We’d best be on our way. He needs to be in bed, and I need to figure out a cat box.”
“He does and you do.” Alex gently passed over the sleeping infant and then crossed the room to return the now protesting kitten to the diaper bag. “And maybe a better carrier for her?”
Spike chuckled, holding Asher carefully while Alex positioned the bag on his shoulder. Pets needed contraptions, too; at least they seemed to need fewer than a sprog. “Yeah.” He hoped Buffy didn’t mind a surprise addition to the family. It’d be the least of his worries if she knew what else happened tonight.
Alex gave him a once-over. “Leave the carrier. You can pick it up tomorrow night.”
“Good idea. Thank you.”
A stern expression appeared on her face. “I want to see that lady of yours again soon. Tell Buffy to come by after work one night.”
“I will.” Spike swung open the door to the back of the bar. “And Alex – ”
Alex waved a dismissive hand at him. “Yeah, yeah. Your secret’s safe with me.”
“Thanks.” Spike stepped back into the cool evening, and he felt Asher shiver a little. Rounding the corner, he headed toward Frenchmen and then stopped, his nose catching a familiar scent.
Oz was here!
The wolf had just as good a nose as he did. Just bloody perfect. Couldn’t Spike catch a break tonight?
Spike poked his head around the edge of the building and did a quick assessment of the situation.
Spike saw Oz ambling toward them, and he wasn’t alone. Spike recognized Stephen, who was the drummer for the wolf’s band, and Willow’s witch friend who’d married them – Stacy? Spike vaguely remembered that Buffy had said Willow had company in town.
Hoping the light breeze was sweeping his scent away from the direction of Oz’s olfactory receptors, Spike shrank back into the shadows. He held his breath unnecessarily and kept Asher close. The kitten squirmed in the squashed bag, and Spike let up, hoping the wolf didn’t hear the tiny squeak.
As Spike watched the small group go by, Oz sniffed the air once and narrowed his eyes, stopping to stare into the darkness.
Spike ducked behind the dumpster, and somehow, the baby and cat didn’t make a peep.
Oz spoke, “Spike?” Then, after a moment of silence, he said, “Huh.”
Then, Stacy distracted Oz by calling his name and clapping her hands in excitement. Spike waited until the wolf walked away and then cautiously stood to see Stephen grabbing Stacy’s hand and tugging her across the street while she laughed. Oz glanced back once and pressed his lips together before following his friends into the Blue Nile. Kermit Ruffins was playing tonight.
Spike waited for what he approximated was about five minutes and then turned the opposite direction down Frenchmen, moving as quickly as he dared without drawing attention. People had seen weirder things in New Orleans than a vampire carrying a baby and a backpack.
When Spike was finally far enough away that he figured he’d avoided being caught by the wolf, he slowed down and considered that maybe he wasn’t so unlucky after all. He’d head back to the first bar, pick up his car, and race home. It was still early enough that hopefully, Buffy wasn’t home yet, especially with the way Liz had explained their strategy to draw out the vampires who were causing all the ruckus in the Quarter.
As Spike decided on this plan, he heard a soft footfall behind him, and he heard a soft whoosh of air.
As he turned his head in alarm toward the source of the noise, something hard crashed down on his skull, and his arms went instinctively around Asher as he fell.