Mel, put on the asbestos mittens! Everyone else run for cover! -- (I've sucked on Bad Blood again and this is the result.)
This can be archived at fkfanfic.com
The characters of Forever Knight belong to Sony/Tristar. Kyer only owns the fledgling, (I feel like Dr. Frankenstein. <sniffle> My child! My child!) There. Happy, TPTB? (No desert denizens were harmed by my way of thinking. It takes a heck of a lot more than this to kill a scraggly cactus set in good Sonoran soil!)
Kyer can be commented to via: [email protected] Feel free to send virtual 'brought across' shower gifts.
Thanks to Morgaine for previewing this part and giving it the rotf-- seal of approval. Future parts will be forthcoming as I get the time to make 'em up! :)=
Part 1: Its Aliiive! Aliiive!!
Nick hummed to himself as he watered his sole plant: a rather pathetic-looking cactus.
"Don't worry, Spike," he told it, "I've been making phone calls. Even if Nat is right, I've sent away to Arizona for an experimental cactus food. Guaranteed to liven up even the most distraught desert denizen. Should get here soon." His face went slack as the water continued to pour from the metal watering can into the sand-filled pot, over the sides of said pot, down onto the getting-wetter-by-the-second-floor...
~~~~~yeah, its a flashback~~~~~
(The Loft. Three days before)
"You, know, Nick, I think this thing is dead."
"No its not. And *his* name is Spike."
"Spike? Okaaay... well, if its not dead, it soon will be. Cacti don't do well in near darkness, you know."
"I'm not an idiot, Nat. I bought Spike his own tanning light. See?" He indicated a small lamp with a Gro-Lite bulb. "And every week I give him his vitamins and a nutritious drink." He showed her the timed release fertilizer tablets and the liquid bottle of 'cactus food'.
"Huh. And does Spike actually *take* the pills and drinks--- or does he lob them out the window when you're not looking?"
"Why would he do that?"
"You tell me. Maybe it wants to keep looking pathetic."
"That's ridiculous! Spike wants to live, Nat."
"Okay, okay. Have you tried talking to it?"
"'Course."
"... *about*?"
"Oh... stuff."
"What kind of *stuff*?"
"Um... you know.... stuff."
"Nick... Wait a minute!--- you don't discuss *us*, do you?"
"For goodness sakes, Natalie! Spikes only four years old."
"<chuckle> too young to discuss the birds and the bees, huh?"
"Yeah!"
"So what *do* you talk about?"
"... um... (me)."
"What's that?"
"I talk to Spike about my past--- all right?"
"Let me guess.... your 'Im soo evil its awful' past? Nick, when the garden pros tell people to talk to their plants, I think they mean to keep it to cheerful topics. No wonder Spike looks depressed. In fact, I'm surprised he hasn't yet succumbed! Face it, Nick. You just don't have a green thumb. That thing's dying."
~~~~~~end of flashback~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~start of another~~~~~~~~~
(one day later)
<Nick sadly contemplates his wilting plant. He has tried to deny Natalie's prognosis, but now it *cannot* be denied. Spike is failing fast.>
"Oh, Spike! <Sob!> Nat's right--- you're dying and it's all my fault! His tears flowing freely, Nick gets down on his knees and gives 'Spike' a big bear hug.
"My--OW!--Fault! "I've--Ouch!--killed another--Yow!--dear friend!" Completely guilt-ridden, Nick does nothing about the flow of blood from his wounds. The pointy torment is but a meager atonement for his continous evil. He doesn't notice the way his blood is quickly leeched up by the potting mixture.
~~~~~~end of flashback~~~~~~~~
Nick comes out of the flashback and finally notices that the water hasn't gone where it should. Wondering if the sandy potting mix has been allowed to get too packed down, he pokes his finger into the soil.
Quick as lightening, a root erupts from the surface and grabs ahold of his digit. At the same time one of the cactus's 'leaves' wraps itself around his wrist. Caught completely off guard, Nick can only stare as the 'leaf' extends two rather vicious-looking thorns and slaps them into his wrist. He feels the blood being drawn from his vein and into the plant--- which is steadily looking much better.
"Spike! You've been brought across?! Who *did* this to you? Was LaCroix here? Did that ba ... oh. Oh no!" Realization dawns as our hero remembers bleeding onto his precious plant. "Oh, GOD! WHAT HAVE I DONE?!" <Spike recoils a bit> "Sorry," Nick apologizes for his choice of words. Bad form, mentioning a diety in front of a new fledgling.
Feeling a little faint, he gently extracts his arm from the plant. It scrapes some thorns together in protest, but lets him go.
Excusing himself, Nick goes into the kitchen to get himself some cow's blood. He drinks deeply from two bottles to replenish his own body's need, knowing that he'll be losing it again soon enough. (New fledglings are always so ravenous the first day.)
Hunger satiated, he goes back to contemplate his newest childe. Nick has made a few children in the past--- but none, he admits to himself, have ever been quite like this.
++Previously in Part One++: (Hunger satiated, he goes back to contemplate his newest childe. Nick has made a few children in the past--- but none, he admits to himself, have ever been quite like this.)
~~~~~later in the day~~~~~~
It was no use.
Apparently a plant-based vampire was just as picky an eater as an animal one. Nick had tried to feed his fledgling everything from cow's blood to Liquid Miracle Gro to bloodmeal. The bloodmeal had seemed the most promising, but *all* had been refused: Spike would lob them out the window when he thought Nick wasn't looking. The only thing it seemed willing to accept was its master's blood. It was time to admit defeat and call in professional help. Sighing at the prospect of having to explain this little quirk in the natural order of things, Nick went to the phone and dialed.
"Hello, Nat? Would you mind coming over with your little black bag? No, no--- I'm fine. But I've got a problem. Yes, Nat, besides *that* one. Well... actually they are kinda related..... Please?.... Thanks, Nat!" He hung up the phone and went back to trying to get Spike to give french fries with ketchup a chance.
The sound of the lift heralded the arrival of Dr. Natalie Lambert, full-time Medical Examiner to the city of Toronto and part-time (unpaid) doctor to the Undead. Hefting a bulging black bag she shoves the lift door aside enough to squeeze through.
"More techno gadgets in this place than the Epcot Center--- you'd think he'd get an automatic door opener for this thing!" she grumbled to herself. Safely inside, she let the bag fall to the floor with a sigh of relief. It seemed the longer she knew Nick and Co., the more things she felt compelled to keep handy-- like extra stakes, crucifixes, and garlic spray. Thank god no other species of ghoulies had shown up yet or she'd have to switch from the bag to a small U-haul to carry just the necessities.
"So who is it *this* time, Nick? Janette, Screed, LaCroix, some past neck-of-the-week? Another hereforto unknown plague?" She spots Nick over by the window and lugs her bag over that way, "C'mon---- I'm missing a King Kong Marathon to be here. Show me the patient."
Nick moves aside so that she can see the cactus. It is the picture of cacti glowing health--- a specimen any Arizona Highways magazine photographer would drool over. The coroner, however, totally misses this as her attention has been attracted to a spot just below the spikey foilage.
"Nick.... why are there french fries jammed into your plant's pot?" She reaches up to feel his forehead out of habit, half-convinced her angsty friend *is* the patient despite his earlier denial over the phone. An angry, raspy sound rises up as she does so.
"What's that noise? Sounds like branches rubbing togeth----GAAAAH!" She jumps back a couple of feet from the sight of the desert plant shaking in its pot as if it and it alone was experiancing a major earthquake. Nick scowls down at the cactus and waggles a reproving finger at it. "Spike-- stop that! Natalie is a friend! Down, boy! Down!" Taking ahold of one thorny pad, he gently strokes it to calmness. "Easy there, boy. No harm done." Eyes filled with apology, he gives Natalie a lobsided grin. "Sorry, Nat. Spike's just a little protective of me. You know how kids can be."
Despite having seen a 'dead' man rise up and drink blood before her very eyes; carving into cadavers on a nightly basis, and tending to the likes of Screed, the Doctor is trembling like a le... well, she's trembling.
"Oh, my god, my god, my god--- Nick! Is that cactus-- is a... a... " Her tongue refused to voice the thought and give it reality. Nick, however, was happy to to do so.
"Vampire, Nat. The word is vampire. Or maybe a carouche?"
"But it's a plant! Plants can't be *vampires!* Can they?" Calming a little, she takes a cautious step back towards the cactus, warily noting its plump flesh, glossy wax coating.... the two 'fangy' thorns on the top leaf, the overall *smuggish* posture it assumed as she stared at it.
"I take it *that's* why you called me?" "Yeah. I know botany isn't exactly your field, Nat. But I'm stuck on what to feed poor Spike. I've tried everything I can think of--- but he just won't feed from anything but me! I'm afraid he'll starve if I don't find something soon."
"Maybe that would be best." Natalie breathed--- now convinced that 'Spike' was leering maloveantly at her. She hadn't particularly liked the thing when it was *living* and had often tried to talk Nick into getting some other plant. Maybe it remembered that. Research *did* show that plants could pick up on emotions. That's why.. <it was 'growling at her again>... uh oh. No doubt about it--- that plant didn't like her at all! And the feeling was mutual. This could be trouble.
"Nat-- please don't talk like that! 'Specially in front of S.P.I.K.E. He's very sensitive."
"C'mon Nick! We're talking about a potentially carnivorous plant here! We don't know what it's capable of or even how to kill it." Spike rattled its thorns even more aggressively at her. She slowly began backing toward the lift door.
"Please, Nat. Spike's only a baby--- and it's not like I can call the local nursery for advice! He just needs some training and patience." And a good dousing in Weed Killer, Nat thought to herself. But Nick was giving her that wounded puppy look and... aw, shoot. She just *knew* she was going to regret this...
"Well... if I *was* an employee at The Damned of God's Green Earth Plant Boutique, I'd have to guess that Spike looks just a tad pale. If you're that intent on nursing the thing then why don't you try giving it the plant equivalent of blood: Chlorophyll."
"Nat-- your a genius! Why didn't I think of that!" The doctor was tempted, but she kept her mouth shut and her feet moving. At last her fingers brush the door.
"Chlorophyll. Um.. Nat? Where do you get..."
"Health food stores carry a bottled liquid form." She yanked the door back and stepped into the lift. "Gotta go! Bye!"
The lift door clanged shut behind her as she made her get-a-way. Truth, she thought wryly," is just *too darn much* stranger than fiction! "Right now I'd rather deal with an oversized celluloid ape."
(And before you health foods folk flame--Kyer has been a 'food faddist' for years herself.) If anyone knows where I can download a picture of 'Spike', *please* e-mail me!
Additional disclaimer: Kyer knows not about the Stores & Streets of Toronto. She barely knows how to get around her own neighborhood. I'm claiming poetic license here, because (a) I'm a slacker and (b) I'm only in this for the fun and reknown. Research is too much like Real Work which is best left to Real Life-- which has absolutely no place here. You wan't accuracy and knowledge?-- go surf the Net. :)
Part 3: Oh Where, Oh Where Has My Cactus Gone...?
++Previously in Part 2++ (Natalie met Spike and despite their mutual dislike, counselled Nick to try feeding the fussy cactus with liquid Chlorophyll)
Parking the Caddy across the street from the Happenin' Health Habitat Natural Foods store-- the *only* 24-hour health food store in Toronto-- Nick gave his passenger a reassuring smile. It was a nice change to have a car ride with someone who didn't yak on and on the way the others did. No, sir--- his new childe was a born listener. Thoughts filled with parental concern and affection, he adjusted the seat belt wrapped around Spike's pot so that the new wooly pad was being used to maximum effect. Couldn't have Spike chafing from the rough fabric strap on his sensitive container. Oh, how he *loved* being a father!
"Now, you stay here in the car, Spike, while daddy goes and does some grocery shopping for you" He flipped on the radio which was pretuned (like all of Nick's radios) to CERK.
"Here. You can listen to grandpa while you wait. Shan't be long!" Making sure the doors were properly locked, (he had a child to watch out for now. Can't risk some cactus thief stealing his pride and joy) Nick walked across the street to the store.
LaCroix's voice was just getting warmed up to his favorite topic: misguided children, when a fleshy, green pad hit the radio switch. The subsequent absolute silence was soon broken by the sound of fabric sliding against clay and then the slamming of a car door...
A local drunk frowned mightily as he spied a potted cactus hop out of a teal-green Caddilac, elevate itself by means of protruding its roots from out the pot's drainage holes, and tippy-root its way toward a nearby plant nursery.
"Andssh thheeyy sayysh itsh da pesh oo-ners tha sshtart too looknen lichta p-poochies! Nowsh thesh l-looings lich der's ungly CAArrsh!" Not one to look providence in the face-- especially one who had such an ugly mug as that poor handicapped driver, the drunk waddled over to the caddy and made himself comfortable before passing out on the vacated seat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meanwhile, in the Healthy Habitat...
Nick had finally managed to navigate the maze-like aisles in the cramped, little store so as to best avoid the shelves and shelves of various garlic products and other noisome items. Most noteably the gung-ho clerk who insisted on giving out samples of some 'odorless garlic' and carob-fudge brownies to all the store's patron's. The stuff might be 'odorless' to humans, but to an 800-year old vampire with peculiar allergies, it *still* stunk as all get out.
"Lesse... cheese-less cheese... wheat, dairy, and sugarless fat-free muffins..." Aah... at last-- a more promising looking aisle! Wheat-grass drinks, Rye-grass powder, Kelp powder, Spirulina, Sea-weed soup mix....(?!!) Nick idly wondered if in a blind taste test he would really be able to tell any difference between cow's blood and that of the people who actually consumed this stuff. And the prices! How could anybody charge *that* much for what was essentially someone's lawn without being laughed out of business?
"Excuse me, sir-- since you don't care for carob, maybe you'd like to try our De-Garliked Garlic-enhanced lemon cookies?"
"Ha-aackff!" Nearly doubling over, Nick tried to avoid the would-be helpful clerk and his smelly offering to no avail.
"Oh, my.. you sound like your coming down with an absolutely *dreadful* cold. And your so pale! Not to worry, sir, if you'll follow me to our 'power the immune system' aisle-- we sell just the thi--errk!" Fingers wrapped around the man's windpipe, Nick was glad he had opted to leave Spike in the car. It wouldn't do for his protog'e to see daddy lose his temper and nearly throttle an annoying salesclerk. "I told you... I'm allergic to garlic. It doesn't like me; and I don't like it. Understand?"
"(shuure.)", the clerk gurgled.
"Good." Letting the man go, he glanced up and down the aisle. "So.... which product do you recommend to feed an anemic plant?" The clerk stopped rubbing his neck long enough to give him a strange look. Mother had warned him about the kinds of weirdos who frequented places like these. Maybe he *should've* went into the family Exotic Plants business.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fifteen minutes later, Nick exited the health store with a full grocery bag and headed for his car.
Well, *there* went a sizeable chunk of the Brabant Foundation Funds, he thought grimly to himself as he tucked away the sales receipt into a pocket. How did mortal parents handle the increased bills? Maybe he should see Merlin about getting Spike a social security number and listing him as a dependent.
Fishing out his car keys, he opened the driver's side door.
"Spike, I found some..."
The whiff of alcohol got him first. The sight of a grimy derelict on his otherwise immaculant upholstery got him second.
"You're not Spike!"
"(*hic*) an yer nna Sophia L-loren (*hic*)", the drunk accused back having been awakened from a terrific dream in which he played Mark Anthony. The caddy owner let his recent purchases hit the asphalt as he growled in vampiric rage.
"Get you're filthy carcass off of my childe!"
Practically tossing the man onto the street, Nick scanned the carseat for signs of crushed cactus, but there was only a thorn or two imbedded in the radio dial. The backseat was also devoid of botanical material. "SPIKE!" The anguished yell echooed forlornly down the nearly empty street.
(**Serious Note. Please, Parents-- NEVER leave your kids unattended in a vehicle. This can be a recipe for disaster. Ever read of the kid who managed to start the car and send it rolling downhill? And don't forget that pets and plants *don't* withstand heatstroke very well, either. End of Seriousness**)
Part 4: Always Bring Lysol To The Movies: You Never Know What Kind Of Crud Will Turn Up.
++Previously in Part 3++ (After braving a health foods store, Nick returns to the Caddy to find Spike missing.)
Nick wanted to howl in despair. Spike was gone! He'd only been in the store a *second* and his beloved childe was gone! Was there a more wretched example of fatherhood than himself? <Sob!>
Got to get a grip! Falling down into a sodden heap of angst wasn't going to help him find the Spikester. This case was going to need his full detective skills! He absently kicked at a light trail of sand grains that headed off towards a nearby plant nursery as he racked his brains for the most likely direction to start looking.
The diner? No.
The pet store? Maybe.
The record shop? Spike *did* like classical music.
Hmm... he used the toe of one boot to grind the sand further into the pavement's cracks. So many potential places to check out! Which should he try first?
There! A Mid-Nite Cheap Seat Theatre was playing something called 'Day of the Triffids'. He had never heard of the flick, but it seemed to feature vegetation, and Spike loved horticultural shows. Good a place as any to search first! He loped past the nursery--- ignoring the sand trail that disappeared into a hole in the fence (in which a cactus thorn was embedded)--- and flashed his badge at the half-asleep ticket taker guarding the entrance to the ancient Bijou.
"Did you happen to see a tall, rather unusual-looking plant come in here?"
The ticket taker, a gawky 20-something man, rolled his eyes heavenward in the manner of the world weary. Oh, no-- another one! And this time play-acting as a detective yet. Well, at least he was more original than most. Why couldn't people just hand over their ticket and go see the movie instead of plaguing him with their stupid in-jokes! Sci-Fi fans! <sigh> He just *had* to ask for a night-shift job. Well, tommorrow he was quitting! Nor more weirdos in stupid fantasy costumes! No more teenyboppers in Darth Vader masks! Yessir, he would seek a job at that health food place and work with *normal* people for a change!
"Oh, sure, bub. *Lots* of strange-looking plants in the theatre just now," he deadpanned. Better humor this fruitcake-- that water-pistol bulge in his jacket just might be loaded and it was too cold to risk getting soaked. "Couple of them are even of the human *bean* variety. Hehe. Heh."
"Okaay," the detective gave the guy a wary look as he edged around him. Boy, Nick thought as he entered the bijou, this place sure wasn't picky on the weirdos they employed for midnight shifts...
The darkened theatre room was empty save for a young couple completely engrossed in each other. Nick started looking under seats, trying not to gag at the sights and smells that emanated from the floorboards: Candy wrappers, mummified chocolate bars, derelect soda cups, chewing gum wads possibly older than himself... Yech! Over half a century goes by and *still* movie houses couldn't seem to hire good cleaning help!. He was just about to get up from searching beneath the last row of seats when: <whooooosh!>
(Spike?) "C'mon, now.. where are you?.... time to go home with daddy..."
"My sentiments exactly."
A small yelp of surprise escaped the ex-Crusader as a familiar pair of expensive black boots appeared practically right under his nose. He hastily tried to rise out of his undignified crawling position in order to face his vampiric master--- but found to his horror that his hands and trouser knees were 'glued' to the floor by the sticky residues of past movie goers. . Damn! He had stayed in one place too long! (in more ways than one--kyer)
"LACROIX!" Nick growled helplessly, "What are you doing here?!"
The senior vampire snickered softly. "Quietly, Nicholas... this *is* a theatre establishment... barely." Both vampires spared a glance in the direction of the kissing lovers. Luckily, however,the mortals were still suffering from a massive case of lip lock and looked disinclined to abort docking manuevers anytime soon..
The aristocratic Roman wrinkled his nose as he scanned the rather seedy-looking seat before him. Oh well, he had plenty of other tailor-made Armani suits, and this situation was just too delicious to pass up! Carefully sitting himself down he raised an eyebrow as he regarded his hapless son.
"My, my.... after waiting for centuries... at *last* you've decided to pay me the homage that is my due."
Thanks to Morgaine and a couple of others for encouraging me with this. Just for that, I'll try to restrain myself should I ever decide to write your fav characters into a story.<g>
Part 5: My Compliments... (burp!)... to the Gardener
++Previously in Part 4++ (Spike takes matters into his own.. er... hands; Nick runs into LaCroix at a movie house.)
Meanwhile at the Exotic Plant Nursery...
<puncture...suck> <puncture...suck> <puncture...suck> Another string of deflated Senecio rowleyanus (string of beads) joined the rest.
Spike was in heaven! Already he had put the 'bite' on three Bleeding Heart Vines (sweet nectar!), a Tillandsia (not much there, but interestingly tasty), bouquets of fancy orchids,( the Cattleya's sap was suprisingly close to that of dear old dad's),an Australian Kangaroo Pouch Plant.(a touch fuzzy, but tangy), assorted bromeliads (the striped Neopolitanish flavor of the Vriesea were best).... and who was that cute little thing in the corner flirting with him?
The Nursery's nightwatch man flashed his light around the greenhouse. Strange... so many of his employer's plants looked kinda wilty tonight. Oh well. Not his fault.
His flashlight beam fell on the odd sight of a spindly, yet healthy looking cactus partly growing around the owner's prized Platycerium bifurcatum (Staghorn fern). For some reason the guard couldn't shake the impression that the former was about to attack the latter. Something about the way it was hunched over the the thickish fronds...
"Man! I've been watching that Day of the Triffids to much." Shaking his head over his unexpectedly morbid turn of imagination, he carefully (ouch!) lifted Spike away and started to carry him outside. "C'mon, you. I don't know how you got put in here, but a plain, 'ol cactus don't belong in this greenhouse. Specially such an ugly one."
<rustle, rustle!>
"Hmm... sounds like the wind's kicking up--- darn trees brushing the glass again. Got to talk to the gardener's about getting to lobbing off a few of those branches."
<rustle, ru...?!!> <*faint*>
"Good grief! This one's wilting too! Wonder if its some sort of contagious fungal infection. Maybe I should should call the boss and see if he wants me to burn the lot... "
<**!!!!!!**>
The concienteous watchman set down the wayward cactus and headed towards the phone. Turning around at the sound something moving, he was just in time to catch a glimpse of the root-running desert plant as it disappeared out the greenhouse door with the staghorn half draped over it. Wordlessly, he picked up the phone receiver and dialed.
"Hello? Is this the Mid-Nite Cheap Seat Movie Theatre? Are you hiring?"
Spike ran back towards the Caddy as fast as his root system could carry him. His sire was going to be so proud! Not only had he refrained from biting that fat, monsterous creature...much, but he had found himself a girlfriend. No stick-in-the-mud Plain Pot, either. This beautiful sprig of epithytic femininity was definitely *not* a down-to-earther!
He had just got her comfortable in the Caddy's back seat, (admiring the way the moonlight shone on her foilage),and was about to bring her across with a well-placed cactus-thorn hickey when he felt it.... a tingley sensation of alarm that ran up and down the spine.
Daddy was in trouble!!
Onto Part Two!