Title: Second Chance (1/2)
Date Written: 4/28/02
Author: JanetD
Rating: G
Summary: This story describes Nick's initial return to Pittsburgh after accepting a job working for his father at Fallin and Associates. It is a follow-up to my story The Offer, but stands completely on its own.
Author's Notes:
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The characters in this story are borrowed from the TV show "The Guardian". No money is being made from this story. Any resemblance of a character in this story to any real person living or dead is purely coincidental. Likewise, any resemblance between an organization depicted in this story and any such actual organization is purely coincidental.


July 1997

The intercom buzzed.



Mr. Fallin, your son is on the line.

Thank you, Sheila. Put him through.



Nick, good to hear from you, son. How are ya?

Good. I'm good.... Dad, I've been thinking...about your offer....



I-I-I accept.

Well, great! That's great, son. Really. A broad smile broke out on Burton Fallin's face. Just great. So, uh, I guess we need to talk about your salary. This isn't New York, Nicholas, you know that, but I think we can come pretty close to what Swann & Cranston was doing for you. How, uh, how does $116,000 sound?

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, and then Nick said, Fine. Okay.

Well, now that that's settled, when can you start? The enthusiasm was obvious in Burton's voice.

I'm not sure. I'll have to give my two weeks notice here. Then there are the arrangements to make with the movers, giving notice at my apartment, things like that.

Yeah.... I tell you what, son...you, uhm, you take a day or two to think about it, then call me back. Then if you want, we'll fly you down here for a house-hunting trip. That way you can settle in to your new place as soon as the movers get your things down here. How does that sound?

Okay, that, that sounds fine.

Good.... Well, welcome aboard, son.

Yeah. Thanks.

I'll talk to you soon.

Okay. Bye, Dad.

Bye, Nick.

As Burton hung up the phone, he smiled contentedly. He really hadn't expected Nick to accept his offer. He'd hoped, of course, but Nick had rejected too many of his overtures in the past for Burton to have gotten his hopes up too high this time. It came as a pleasant surprise to find that this latest gambit had actually paid off. He took a moment to consider what this second chance at connecting with his son might mean, mean to him and Nick, before turning his attention back to the papers for the Benson-Creighton merger.

---+---

It was 7:45 the following Friday night. Although weather was clear locally, air traffic had been heavy at Pittsburgh Int'l Airport due to flight delays caused by storms along the coast. As Nick Fallin came through the door from the jetway, suit jacket over his arm, he began to search the crowd at the gate for his father. Burton had insisted on picking him up. Nick had told his dad that there was no need for that. He could just pick up the rental car at the airport, and meet his father at home. But Burton was resolute. He'd pick Nick up; they'd go to dinner, then he'd drop Nick back off at the airport to pick up the rental car.

As Nick walked a few steps further into the terminal, he spotted his father. Burton lifted a hand in greeting. He was dressed in a dark three-piece suit, white shirt, and conservative tie, typical business attire for his father, as Nick knew. Nick walked over to his dad, and was met with an enthusiastic greeting. Burton shook his son's hand while simultaneously patting him on the arm.

Nick! Good to see you, son. How was the flight? Is that all your luggage?

Yeah, this is it, Nick said, nodding toward his carry-on bag. The flight was fine, once we finally got off the ground.

No turbulence?

Nick sort of shrugged, and tilted his head briefly to the side. It was bumpy until we got above the clouds, but that was all.

Burton nodded, and father and son began to walk down the concourse together.

Burton said, I hope you're hungry, son. We've got reservations at Gianni's. We're a little late, but when I saw your flight was going to be delayed, I called, and they're holding our table. Italian sound all right to you?

Sure. Yeah, that sounds good.



Reaching his father's car (a mid-size, white Cadillac), Nick put his bag in the back, and then took his place in the front seat beside his dad. Burton started the car, and headed for the parking structure exit. After paying the fee, they were on their way.

Burton made small talk with his son on the drive to the restaurant. Nick was responsive, but somewhat subdued. Burton couldn't tell whether his son was just tired, or whether there was something on his mind.

Reaching the restaurant, they found their table ready for them. The hostess led the way to a section in the back of the main dining area, handing each man a menu as he sat down. She said, Your server will be right with you, gentlemen. Enjoy your meal. With a final smile, she left them to themselves.

Burton said, You've been here before, right, son?

Uh, yeah, but it's been a long time.

Burton nodded, and suggested some things from the menu that Nick might like to try. In a moment, the server arrived to ask what they'd like to drink. Burton ordered a bottle of wine, and the server left. By the time she came back, both men were ready with their orders. Burton ordered lasagna. Nick ordered the pasta con broccoli with chicken.

Burton turned his attention back to Nick, and said, So, how'd they take it? When you turned in your resignation, I mean.

Nick leaned back in his seat, and paused for a few seconds, as if considering what to say. They took it all right. Said they were sorry to see me go. That I'd, that I'd been a real asset. You know, that kind of thing.

Burton nodded. Well, I'm sure they are sorry to lose you, son. You've got a lot of promise. I'm sure they could see that.... You have anything big in the works, anything that it's going to be difficult to hand off?

Well, I'm in the middle of several things, but I, I don't thing it will be too bad.



Burton then steered the conversation to Fallin and Associates. He went over several things that he thought Nick should know in preparation for starting at the firm. He listed most of their important clients, filling Nick in on their accounts, and some of their personal foibles. He also gave Nick a rundown of all the notable cases currently in progress, and described to his son, his own strategy for growing the firm in the present business climate. After that, Burton began to familiarize Nick with some of the lawyers at the firm. Most of the partners were already known to him, having been with the firm for years, but there were a couple of the younger partners that Nick hadn't met yet. After covering the partners, Burton moved on to the associates that Nick would likely be working with. Somewhere in the middle of this their dinner arrived.

Both their entrees were excellent, and as they were finishing up the last of their meals, Burton found himself thinking that he was pleased with how the evening had gone. Nick had listened attentively to all that his father had had to tell him about the firm, and had asked intelligent questions. He'd also offered suggestions from time to time--excellent suggestions, as a matter of fact. Burton was very pleased, and couldn't help but feel pride in his son.

The server returned, and asked if they would like anything else. Both men ordered coffee. As they were waiting for it to arrive, Burton decided now was the time to bring up the other subject that had been on his mind tonight.



Nick had been looking around the room idly, but now returned his attention to his father, with a mildly inquiring gaze.

Son, I want you to know how glad I am that you decided to join the firm. Burton stopped, and cleared his throat. I am, Nicholas, very glad. Nick looked down at the table at these words. And I'm hoping that this...that working together, will give us a chance to, uhm, to get to know each other better. Burton stopped, and looked at his son to gauge his reaction, but Nick's head was still bent. After a few seconds, Burton continued, I realize it hasn't always been smooth sailing between the two of us, Nick. We've had our problems, in, in the past. But I'm hoping we can put all that behind us. Start off with a clean slate.... What do you say, son? Burton looked at Nick with a mixture of expectation and apprehension.

Nick raised his head to his father. A couple quick, pained expressions passed across his face, but he didn't say anything. At last, he gave his father a small, reluctant nod of acceptance, and averted his gaze once more.

Burton smiled encouragingly at his son. Well good. I'm glad you agree, son. That's, that's fine.

The waitress returned with the coffee pot. After she'd filled their cups, and departed, neither man attempted to restart the conversation. Each seemed lost in his own thoughts.

After dinner, Burton and Nick drove back to the airport. Burton let Nick off outside the Dollar Rental Car office. I'll see you at home, son, he said. Nick nodded. As Burton pulled away from the curb, Nick turned to walk into the building.

---+---

The Grandfather clock in the hallway was just striking 10:30 as Nick turned the key in the lock, and opened the front door. As he came inside, Burton walked in from the dining room, a drink in one hand. Hi, son. I was just making myself a nightcap. Want one?

No, no thanks.

Okay, well, I figured I'd head into the den, and watch TV for a while before turning in. Wanta join me?

No, I'm, I'm bushed. Think I'll just head upstairs.

Well, okay. I put your bag in your room. And I asked Rosita to put out soap and fresh towels in your bathroom yesterday, so you should be all set there.

Nick nodded. Then after a few seconds said, How is Rosita?

She's fine, just fine. Same as always. You know how she is. Burton smiled at his son. She's excited about your coming back, I can tell you that. Once you get settled in your new place, you'll have to come over, and say hello. She'd like that.

Nick said with a small smile of his own.

Well, good night, son. I'll see you in the morning.

'night, Dad.

Nick headed up the stairs. Burton watched him until he was out of sight, and then turned to head into the den.

Nick walked in the doorway of his bedroom, and flipped on the light. The room looked exactly as he had left it more than two years ago. Same furniture, same bedspread and curtains (dark blue with a grid of thin white stripes). It looked almost Spartan, bare of all of the things that had personalized it when he was a boy. There was nothing of himself left in this room now. When he had graduated from law school, and accepted the job in New York, he had taken everything with him, all his keepsakes, all the mementos from his youth: pictures of his mother, his baseball and track trophies, his favorite glove and ball, the Rubik's cube his mother had given him when he turned twelve (the last birthday they'd celebrated together). It was all sitting in his apartment in New York, or packed away in boxes. It wasn't here.

Still there were lots of memories associated with this room, memories both good and bad. He remembered how when he was small his mother would always read him stories before bed. It was a nightly ritual: three bedtime stories, a kiss on the forehead, and then she'd tuck him in. Then right before turning off the light and leaving, she'd say affectionately, Sleep tight my little man. Nick couldn't help but smile at the memory.

But the smile disappeared as he began to recall other unpleasant, disturbing memories. He recalled vividly the many times he had clutched his pillow tightly to his middle, curled around it, and pulled the covers over his head in an attempt to shut out the sound of his parents arguing. And later, after the divorce, he could remember lying in bed, night after night, listening to the sounds of his mother's sobs. Each time he had wanted to go to her, to offer her comfort, but he'd learned that it was better to stay where he was. It just upset his mother more to know that he was aware of her distress. So, he had stayed in bed, feeling helpless, and silently cursed his father for making his mother so unhappy.

Yes, there were lots of memories associated with this room.

Nick shook himself out of his reverie, and walked over to the bed. His father had placed his flight bag there, and he opened it now, digging out the items he'd need for tonight. Carrying his shaving kit into the bathroom, he began to get ready for bed.

Nick lay on his back in his old bed, one hand under his head. He was thinking about what his father had said to him at dinner. What he had said about getting to know each other better, making a fresh start of things. He thought he knew his father well, very well indeed. It was his father who really didn't know him. And why should he? He'd packed his son off to boarding school before the first grass covered the earth over his ex-wife's grave. The familiar anger returned as Nick considered that years-old grievance. His mother had died, and his father had sent him away, sent him away to grow up among strangers. The anger still burned bright in his mind's eye.

Pushing the anger away for the moment, he tried to decide how he really felt about his father's proposal. He knew it made logical sense. After all, he was almost 28 years old. It seemed time to move on...to forget about the past. And a part of him did want that, really did want to come to some kind of accommodation with his father. Or more accurately, with the tally sheet of wrongs he had compiled against his father over the years. It would be a relief to set it aside, put it behind him. He just didn't know if it was possible. He'd carried that anger around for so long.... It was a part of himself, a part of who he was. Who would he be if he didn't have that anger, that sense of grievance, to fix to anymore? He didn't know. But he had agreed to his father's request, so he would have to make an attempt to leave his hurt, his sense of injustice over his father's treatment of him (and his mother) in the past.

Nick let out a long sigh, and turned over on his side, scrunching the pillow up under his head. With difficulty, he switched his train of thought to something more benign--the hunt for an apartment tomorrow, and all the things that he would have to take care of to affect the move. Going through this mental checklist, he at last drifted off to sleep.

---+---

Nick, dressed in a light blue polo shirt and brown khakis, came downstairs in the morning to find his father already busy in the kitchen. He was greeted by the enticing smell of freshly brewed coffee as he entered the room.

Morning, son. How'd you sleep? Burton inquired, as he filled a coffee cup for Nick.

Nick took the cup, and answered briefly, I slept okay.

Burton nodded. Good. So what do you feel like for breakfast? Pancakes? Bacon and eggs? Or an omelet?

Nick shrugged, and said mildly, Whatever you want to make is fine.

'Kay then, I say bacon and eggs.

Nick leaned against the counter, sipped his coffee, and watched his father cook. More than twenty years on his own had given his dad lots of experience in the kitchen. Burton employed a combination housekeeper and cook to come in during the week to keep the place in order and cook his evening meals (that was Rosita, who had been with his father since before Nick started college). Still, Dad was a perfectly competent cook himself. He had told Nick many times how his mother had taught him to cook, how she had held the conviction, unusual for her time, that her sons as well as her daughters should know their way around the kitchen.

When breakfast was ready, Burton carried the two plates of food into the dining room, while Nick followed with their coffee cups. The two men took their place at the dining room table, and began to eat. Burton's assistant, Sheila, had made an appointment at an apartment rental agency for Nick at 10:00AM. It was nearly 9:00 now, so Nick would not have time to linger over his breakfast. Not, thought Burton wryly, that Nick ever lingered over a meal anyway, not at home at any rate. There had been times when Nick was young that Burton had been sorely tempted to find a hammer, and nail the boy to his seat. Somewhere along the line, his son had acquired the very bad habit of bolting down his food, and making a quick exit.

As they ate together, Burton asked his son a few questions about the kind of apartment he thought he'd want, where he might like to live, and about how his arrangements were coming along for making the move out of New York. Nick answered his father's questions easily, and Burton took this as a good sign for things to come.

At 9:40, Nick left for his appointment, and Burton cleaned up the remains of breakfast. Nick had called a goodbye as he headed out the door. Burton found himself noticing how quiet it seemed after Nick had left. He told himself that was silly. He was used to being alone in the house. All the same, he flipped on the radio to dispel the silence, and listened to a news program on NPR as he cleaned up in the kitchen.

----+----

Nick arrived back home about 2:00. He had signed a lease on an apartment downtown. He told his father it was in one of the newer high-rises. The apartment was on the 10th floor, and had a nice view of the Allegheny River. It was a one-bedroom, two-bath. The building had underground parking, and it was only five blocks from the offices of Fallin and Associates. Nick thought it would more than meet his needs. The apartment was unoccupied, and Nick's tenancy would begin two weeks from today. That was the Saturday before his start date at F & A. He was hoping the moving company would be prompt in bringing his belongings, and he would be settled into the apartment before the end of his first week back in Pittsburgh. Prior to that he would be staying in the house with Burton. Nick had begun to get excited about the prospect of coming back to Pittsburgh on his drive back from the city. Now that he had a place to live it all seemed much more immediate, much more of a reality. His enthusiasm revealed itself in his voice as he described the apartment and his plans for it to his father. Burton was pleased to hear his son sound so enthused. In the past, especially in Nick's teenage years, that had been something of a rare treat.

Nick had plans to meet some friends for dinner that evening, so he and his father passed a quiet afternoon. Burton read through some paperwork in his study that he'd brought home from the office, and Nick caught up with some of the latest issues of The Pennsylvania Law Review and The American Lawyer.

---+---

Sunday morning played out much as had Saturday morning. Burton was already up and about by the time Nick came downstairs. They had a quiet breakfast. Burton had arranged to meet some friends at the club at 1:00. He wanted to introduce Nick to some of the movers and shakers in the city. Nick had actually met many of these men as a youngster, but his father wished him to renew their acquaintance. They were important people in Pittsburgh, and Burton knew the value of those kinds of contacts. And, frankly, he was also eager to show off his son just a little. Burton had wrung a promise out of Nick to attend this little get-together, although Nick had been less than enthusiastic.

---+---

By 3:30, Nick and Burton were back at the house, and Nick was packing for his 5:30 flight. He came down the steps with his carry-on bag as Burton walked in from the other room. Nick looked at his father as if trying to determine who was going to speak first, then said, .

Got everything? Burton asked.

Yeah. Yeah, I think so, Nick replied, nodding a couple times. He glanced around, and said. Well, guess I'd better get going.

Burton opened the front door, and Nick preceded him through it. They walked out onto the circular driveway that fronted the house. Nick unlocked the red Ford Taurus, and placed his bag in the backseat. He turned back to his father.

Okay, son. It was good to have you here. See you in a couple weeks, As he said these words, Burton stuck out his hand. Nick grasped it, and they exchanged a firm handshake. As they did, Nick could hear the echo of his grandfather's voice in his head. He didn't remember the exact words anymore, but his grandfather (on his mother's side) had said something about it being important to always give a man a firm handshake, that it showed you were a man to be trusted, or something like that. Nick didn't know why he should recall those words right now--his grandfather had been dead for years--but he had. Withdrawing his hand from his father's at last, Nick said, Well, see you, Dad.

Take care, son. Have a good flight. I'll see you soon.

Nick climbed into the car, and started the engine. Burton watched as Nick maneuvered the car around the circular drive, and out onto the road. He waved as Nick glanced back, and then watched the car until it was out of sight.