Title: Peace & Music, Part I
Characters: Pete & Cady Townshend & baby, Roger Daltrey, Keith Moon, John Entwistle, Janis Joplin, Grace Slick, Jimi Hendrix
Word Count: 3,937
Rating: PG-13, mild nudity, drug use, language
Warnings/Spoilers/Summary: The Who descend on Woodstock, with Cady and baby in tow.

SPOILER ALERT: You will learn Pete & Cady's baby's gender and name [as it is August 1969].

Author's note: This IS canon with the epic. Second part will be posted once I finish it, heh.



Had he any choice, they would not be spending the night in New York, but on their way back home to England. No, correction, they would already be home in England. It had been hard enough touring the States with Cady and the baby. He had been looking forward to remaining in his own home, venturing out for concerts every now and then. Even though they had remained stationed in the flat in New York City when on the East Coast, he could not leave Cady with the newborn to travel about to the west. All that travelling had ended and they were scheduled to return home to England – even had settled back into their home. However, they were right back in Manhattan – all because of a forced decision early in the morning. The Who were to play some new Woodstock Music and Art Festival.

Buttoning up his white boiler suit, he glanced up as his beautiful wife entered the bedroom, “Cady, you don’t need to come. We’ll just drive up perform and be right back afterwards.”

“It’s just another festival, Pete. And you know I like watching you perform. We’re going with you,” she responded. “Besides we are just going to be gone for a couple of hours. Audrey can sleep in her crib tonight and you in our bed.”

“I… Cady, if you’re adamant about this…”

She kissed his forehead, “I am. So since you’re ready, you can pack Audrey’s bag while I finish getting ready. The car will be here in about twenty minutes.” 

Doing as instructed, Pete filled the baby’s bag with diapers, a small blanket, and a change of clothing. He looked up as Cady stepped out of the bathroom with her long hair held back from her face with small braids. A long maxi dress dusted her curves, easily pulled down in the front so she could nurse. She stole his breath away.

“Cady, you’re beautiful,” he remarked, softly.

She smiled, “Thank you. All ready?”

“Are you sure about this? It’s just a concert. You can stay here and I’ll be home before you go to bed,” Pete stated.

Shaking her head, she moved to the crib and scooped their daughter out, kissing her happily, “You’re not talking me out of this, Pete. You’re playing all of Tommy tonight. We’re coming.”

“There is nothing I can do to talk you out of it? Buy you a pretty something?”

She snorted, “Ha, no. Let’s go down and meet the car.”

The small family slipped into the car a few minutes later and began the trek out of New York City, stopping to pick up the rest of the band at the hotel. Audrey slept in Pete’s arms for most of the ride, only stirring once the car slowed to a near crawl. Passing the baby over to Cady, he leaned forward to see what the delay was. Seeing the crowded streets, he spoke with the driver. Before any of his questions were answered, a hand knocked on the driver’s window.

“You heading up to the concert?” the man asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“You got tickets?”

The driver shook his head, “No. This is The Who. They’re performing.”

The man’s eyes widened, “The roads are blocked. We’re flying in all of the bands. Follow me.”

The car snaked out of the line and turned into a blocked parking lot. Directed to a parking spot, a man wearing dark jeans and a black shirt with the Woodstock logo printed on it pulled open the door of the car. The band was quickly ushered out, none really listening to the rapid explanation of the changes to the festival since the unexpected turnout already. Keith immediately jumped into the helicopter and happily chattered to the pilots in hopes of taking over flying the machine himself.

“I am not getting in that if Keith is anywhere near the pilots,” Cady muttered to Pete.

“Me neither,” he declared before turning to the event supervisor, leaving it to him to straighten out Keith.

Once the drummer was seated and buckled in, the rest of the band crawled into the helicopter. Pete pulled the belt around his wife and kissed the baby’s head. The helicopter lifted from the ground, Cady’s fingers finding Pete’s. The couple leaned towards the window, their blue eyes watching the crowds of people down below.

“Pete,” she breathed, “that’s a lot more people than you said would be here.”

“No shit,” he muttered.

She squeezed his hand, “And all of them are going to be Who fans before this is all over.”

Once they were ushered away from the helicopter, their feet sinking slightly in the soft ground, Cady began to worry. While they had been to a number of festivals and played more than their fair share of concerts, something did not feel right about the busy backstage area. Everything seemed more chaotic than normal, almost as if no one had any clue what was going on. If The Who were supposed to take the stage soon, why did no one seem to know where they were supposed to be, who was supposed to be doing what? Why was the stage empty? It was noon already. Should not there be some sort of direction?

“Pete?” she muttered softly, squeezing his hand to get his attention as he led her through the confused crowd behind their manager. “What’s going on?”

“We’re trying to find out,” he responded, stopping and kissing Audrey’s head. “But it seems everything is a clusterfuck.”

Her blue eyes looked around, “Pete, I don’t think anyone has a clue what’s going on. This is chaos and it’s only the first day.”

His lips touched hers, “I’m going to get you back on the helicopter. Neither of you need to be here.”

“No. We’ll be fine. I’m not leaving without you,” she declared.

Though his instincts were to argue, Pete also knew better. And so he nodded and pulled slightly away. He led his two girls into the crowd, making their way closer to the stage. Before long, they were directed away, sent to sit on wooden chairs perched on a board over the mud while things were figured out.

This entire thing had been a big mistake. He was certain of it.



Knowing she needed to drink something in order to be able to nurse the baby, Cady wandered away from the band in search of something. Within a few moments, the crowd had overwhelmed her and she was not entirely sure where the band remained. But over an hour in festival grounds and not offered a drink when she was a nursing mother meant seeking it out herself.

Seeing an old friend from the music circuit looking quite bewildered at the large mass of people on the other side of the stage, Cady headed towards her. As she neared the songstress, the woman looked through her large yellow, round lenses in Cady’s direction. Their eyes connected and it took a few more steps before her face brightened and she stood up.

“Well, well. Look who we have here,” she smiled. “And looks like you’re packing a little one too?”

Embracing the singer with one arm, she responded, “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it, Janis? This here is my daughter, Audrey.”

Holding her cigarette behind her back, Janis leaned down and smiled at the dozing baby, “She’s beautiful. But with a mama like you, that’s no surprise.”

Cady smiled, “Thank you. Are you singing today?”

She nodded, eyes still on the baby, “The crowd is fucking huge. I don’t… I don’t know how I’m going to…”

“You’ll be amazing. Don’t think about the size of the crowd. Really, Janis,” she remarked.

“Holy shit. She has your eyes,” the songstress declared as the baby’s eyes opened and she gurgled.

“Or Pete’s. It’s hard to tell.”

Janis glanced up, “Wait. You mean her daddy is Pete Townshend?”

Cady nodded.

“No shit?”

“Pete and I have been married for over a year.”

“Well fuck. We should have a drink to celebrate that!”

Cady smiled, “I am so thirsty and I need to nurse soon.”

Janis glanced at Cady’s chest, “Well you can’t be drinking wine then. I’ll find something else. You just sit here.”

The singer pulled out a wooden folding chair, glancing at the others gathered around, “You all remember Cady, right?”

“Hey, Cady,” a dark-haired woman looked up.

“Hey, Grace,” she smiled. 

Within minutes, Audrey slipped into arms around the table. Used to this treatment after spending the past two months on the road with Pete, Cady thought nothing of it as the gathered musicians cooed over her baby. Audrey always seemed to enjoy the attention anyways – at least until she decided she was hungry and began to fuss. Accepting the child back, Cady pulled down the front of her dress, ever glad the baby was hungry as her breasts were near bursting. The baby latched on just as Janis returned with two paper cups in her hands.

“Coffee is the best I could do,” she declared, setting the cups on the table near Cady.

“Thanks,” she smiled at the singer. “Any word of when you’re performing?”

“Hopefully never,” Janis stated and sat down, reaching for her bottle of wine.

“Oh come on, Janis. You can do this. It’s not that big of a deal. Just a few fun- and music-loving kids out there,” Cady stated, her fingers dancing across her baby’s forehead. “It will be fantastic.”

“You only say that because you don’t have to do it,” she proclaimed before taking a swig from her bottle.

“I would totally go up there if I had any musical talent whatsoever,” she retorted. “But I haven’t. So I’ll just live vicariously through you.”

“You cannot be married to Townshend and not have some musical talent in you,” Janis replied.

Grace snorted, “Townshend’s musical talent clearly was in her. She’s got the baby to prove it.”

Everyone at the table burst into laughter, including Cady as she shifted Audrey to her shoulder to burp the baby. Janis ground out her cigarette and reached for the baby, allowing the married woman to fix her dress and reach for the coffee. Though she was not a big coffee drinker, at least it was something. Audrey only nursed one side at a time, so Cady was fairly certain the baby would be fine for the next feeding, but the disorganization of the event meant they could be there for quite some time. She would need to eat sometime soon too. Perhaps she needed to head back to Pete and see what The Who’s status was.

“She has to be the most adorable little baby ever,” Janis declared before tickling the five-month-old baby.

“Thank you.”

“You tour with her?” Grace asked, a touch of disinterest in her voice.

Cady nodded, “For the most part, yes. We have a flat in New York we stay in when Pete’s on the East Coast. And when we’re in England, we have a house. Pete makes a big deal about coming home every night. If he’s too far away to make it back to New York or London, then we go with him. He’s a good daddy.”

“Speaking of…” she motioned behind Cady.

Turning in her chair, her eyes landed on a tall man wearing a white boiler suit pushing through the crowd. Watching him with some amusement, Cady wondered how long Pete had been searching for her. Yet as he got closer, her vision blurred, colors began to jump out of the sea of clothing he walked through. He seemed to be moving in slow motion, almost like he was walking backwards though he clearly was not. Everything seemed to pulse with life. It was akin to the way the walls of the club attacked her the night she met Jimi Hendrix.

“Oh god,” she muttered, turning around to Janis. “The coffee… is it spiked?”

“What, babe?” she responded.

“Cady?” Pete’s voice interrupted any attempt of speech from his wife.

Turning around on the chair again, her eyes practically crossed in an attempt to focus on Pete. In her altered vision, he was a brilliant white knight, cutting a swath through the multicolored crowd around him. This was not good. Not in the least.

Stopping in front of her, Pete squatted, “I have been looking all over for you. Where have you–”

“Oh god, Pete,” she muttered, reaching for him over the back of the chair.

His fingers enfolded hers, his blue eyes looking into hers, “Cady, did you drop acid?”

She shook her head, “I just… coffee… it’s the coffee, Pete.”

His eyes flicked to the empty cup on the table before he focused back on her, “I know. Everything has fucking acid in it. Cady, where is the baby?”

She pointed to Janis who still cradled the baby in her arms. Nodding Pete stood back up and reached for his daughter. Saying nothing to anyone else, he held out his hand for Cady. Staring at his calloused fingers for a moment, she slapped her hand into his, letting him pull her up from her seat. Their eyes met briefly and she knew Pete was tripping too – and he did not like it one bit.

“We’re getting out of here. Fuck everyone. Fuck this clusterfuck,” he growled, turning towards the crowd. “Fuck everything.”



The baby stirred and began to fuss, alerting both of her parents. Cady’s eyes flicked to Pete, knowing quite well what the baby wanted and feeling ever so uncertain about nursing. The trip had been brief, but enough to worry both of them, especially since neither had dropped acid in a long time. Pete had tried to get released from the show, but as the Who’s management had just secured their payment, leaving the festival was impossible. Not entirely willing to march out of the muddy field with his wife and baby, Pete threw quite the tantrum – only to be refused. He would be allowed to leave, flown out via helicopter, once The Who’s set was over and not before. Therefore, the couple took solace away from the crowd as much as possible, huddling on a board with the rest of the band – just waiting.

“Pete,” Cady spoke softly as Audrey began to fuss more, drawing attention from the rest of the band.

His eyes flicked to her, “Yes, sweetie.”

“I… I need to nurse. But… do you think the drugs are in my milk?” she whispered.

“I… I don’t know. But… I think the alternative is… Audrey needs to nurse,” he responded. “Did you nurse her before drinking the coffee?”

Cady nodded, “Yeah, just a bit before.”

“Well then… maybe the acid didn’t get into the other breast’s milk? I don’t really know. But we can’t not feed her because of that risk. You had a very short trip, two hours ago. It’s not really affecting you anymore, so in theory…” Pete reasoned.

She sighed, “Yeah. Well then… here’s to our daughter’s first trip.”

His eyes flicked around, suddenly wishing he could hide Cady in a tent as she pulled her dress down pass her breasts. Her hands reached out for the baby, quickly adjusting her position so Pete could still slip his arm around her. His fingers gently played with Audrey’s soft baby curls as she hungrily latched onto Cady’s nipple. He understood her worry, but there really was no other option. Audrey needed to nurse, Cady needed her to nurse. If they baby was forced to trip just as they had been, at least she was far too young to remember it – so he hoped.

“Who’s on stage now, Pete?” she asked, laying her head on his shoulder while the baby fed.

“Janis,” he responded, a touch of acidity in his voice. “I think.”

“Dammit. I wanted to watch her set. She was really starting to worry about the crowd size,” she commented.

He shook his head, “She gave you acid, Cady. You owe her no favors.”

“She didn’t do it on purpose, Pete.”

He snorted, “Sure she didn’t.”

Cady sighed, “When are you going on?”

“At this rate, fucking never,” he responded. “We should just get on the next helicopter to go out regardless.”

“Pete,” she warned.

“We shouldn’t fucking be here, sitting in the mud. You and Audrey shouldn’t be here at all. We never should have agreed to play this bloody festival. It’s a complete disaster and–”

“You guys are going to blow everyone away, no matter when you get to play.”

“I’m not nervous about playing, Cady, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he responded. “I’m bloody pissed off. This is a complete disaster and–”

“Shhh,” she reached up and touched his mouth. “It’s not good to be angry around the baby.”

He sighed and caressed Audrey’s head, “I never should have brought you two along.”

“Enough, Pete. We’re here. Everything is fine. A bit chaotic, but that’s expected to happen when there’s lots more people than anyone expected. Not every festival can be like Monterey,” she commented. “Let it go.”

“But–”

“Let it go,” she repeated, slowly easing the baby off her breast, and offering her to Pete.

Accepting the baby while his wife righted her dress, Pete instantly tilted the baby up onto his shoulder. Cady barely slipped a cloth under Audrey’s head before Pete coaxed a burp from the baby. Making faces until the baby smile, she wiped the little girl’s mouth with the cloth before touching her nose quickly.

“I hate to break up this moment, but here,” John interrupted, holding out an orange.

Cady’s eyes flicked up to the bassist and she grinned, “Thank you, John. Where did you get this?”

“Hospitality tent. I just happened to be there at the right time, I guess,” he commented. “They’ve decided that we’re following Sly and the Family Stone.”

“Which will be when?”

He shrugged and bit into a red apple, “I think they’re going on after Janis, but that could change at any moment.”

“Thanks, John,” Cady smiled, fingers digging into the orange rind.

“We found Coke!” Keith announced, carrying a couple of cans.

“Were they open before they were given to you, Keith?” Pete asked.

The drummer looked down at the cans, “Um, no. They’re not even open now, Pete.”

Cady offered a section of orange to Pete, silencing his likely negative response, “Thank you, Keith. That’s just what we needed. Where’s Roger?”

He shrugged and cracked open a can, “I have no clue.”

“Maybe he just went to the loo,” she stated before popping orange in her mouth.

“Then we’ll never see him again,” the drummer laughed. “The toilets here are not even worth blowing up. Plus he’d get his fringe all messy.”

Balancing the baby on his shoulder, Pete reached for the small bag with her things in it. Pulling out the last diaper, he frowned. What were they going to do now? They still had no clue how long they would be stuck in this fucking hell. There was no way Audrey could remain in the same dirty diaper for long. He had not anticipated needing more than three of the heavy cloths. But with two soiled and a third about to be wrapped about the baby, he felt his frustration and anger begin to rise again.

“Cady, we don’t have–”

“Eat this, Pete,” she shoved another orange slice in his mouth. “Do not worry about Audrey. She’ll be fine.”

“But the diapers–”

“I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry. And don’t talk with your mouth full.”



With Audrey in her arms, Cady slipped away from the band while Pete harassed the band about their upcoming set. As it had not been Janis on stage like Pete thought, hearing that Janis was taking the stage finally set Cady in motion. She may not have been close with the songstress; she still wanted to make the effort to support the other woman. Within a few minutes, she could tell Janis was reacting poorly to the large crowd. Her performance was suffering because of it.

“Mrs. Townshend?” a young hippie approached her.

Turning from the stage, she smiled at the young man, “Yes?”

“Your husband has been… uh… shouting for you for some time now.”

“Dammit, Pete,” she sighed, adjusting the baby in her arms. “Thanks. I’ll take care of him.”

Heading back to where she left The Who, Cady stopped a few feet away. With people between them, she was mostly hidden from her ranting husband. Knowing his voice quite well, she easily picked out his words over the hum of the crowd. He was not even growling about her, but rather the entire failed festival. Shaking her head, she weaved through the dozen people between them. Passing the baby to John, Cady snuck up behind Pete and circled his waist with her arms. Her lips touched his ear as he attempted to pull free, not knowing it was his wife.

“Pete,” she whispered, “take a breath.”

His hands went to her arms, “I thought I lost you.”

She smirked, “You’re never going to lose me, Pete. Not at some silly festival, not anywhere.”

“Cady, where’s Audrey?”

“Her godfather has her,” she kissed his ear again. “Just chill out, Pete.”

He glanced behind him to see the bassist holding his infant daughter, “Cady, I just–”

“I know, Pete. I know,” she loosened her arms so he could turn around. “Relax, baby. I know you didn’t want to trip, that none of us did, but it happened. And this is chaotic and crazy and everything, but you’ll be on stage before too long and then we’ll get home and get some rest before getting on the plane.”

Sighing, he kissed her mouth briefly, “We never should have come.”

“But we’re here. So get over it,” she chided before grinning. 

A baby squeal snapped Pete’s attention away from Cady. Pulling from her embrace, he headed over to his bandmate and accepted his crying baby from John. He kissed and made faces at Audrey, but she continued to fuss. Checking her makeshift diaper, made from a Woodstock tee shirt, Pete frowned and headed to Cady.

“I think she’s hungry,” he remarked.

Nodding, she headed over to a chair. Pete frowned again as she bared her breasts to prepare to nurse, even though he had already seen many a naked chest during the festival. Quickly slipping the baby into her arms, Pete sat beside her, rubbing the baby’s head as she nursed. Focusing on the moment, Pete slowly began to relax, to forget they were at the horrible festival.

That is until he looked up and notice a camera focused upon them.

The guitarist instantly jumped up and stomped over to the camera crew, “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Sir, we’re just filming this for–”

“I don’t fucking care. Get the fuck away. And if any of this shows up in your fuckingfilm, I will fucking–”

“Pete!” Cady shouted, her hands covering Audrey’s head as she did so.

He stared down at the film crew, “Stay the fuck away from me. Stay the fuck away from my family.”

Turning on his heel, Pete stalked back over to her and the baby, using his body to shield everyone’s view of his wife and child. Trying hard to focus upon his girls, he willed his anger and angst away, but it was slow to fade. He would much rather punch the film crew into oblivion. He needed to get on stage to work out some of his aggression before it became even more explosive.