Title: Second Chance (2/2)
Date Written: 5/01/02
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 a company depicted in this story and any such actual company is purely coincidental.


July 1997

Jake Straka stood washing his hands in the men's room of the prestigious Pittsburgh law firm, Fallin and Associates. Jake was a junior associate at the firm, and had been there for close to two and a half years. As he reached for a paper towel, he heard the flush of a urinal, and then Larry Heinz walked up to stand beside him. Heinz had been at Fallin and Associates for four years, after serving a tenure at a firm in Philadelphia. Jake knew he had his eye on a partnership at F&A, and to hear Larry tell it, it was going to be any day now.

said Larry.

Jake replied.

Larry turned on the faucet in front of him, while simultaneously reaching a hand out for the soap dispenser.

So, Fallin's kid starts today.

Yeah, so I heard.

Should be interesting.... Chances are he's one of these rich kids who's used to having everything handed to him on a silver platter. You know the type. Larry gave his hands a final rinse. Probably'll just end up making more work for everybody else, he concluded, giving his hands a shake.

I don't know, Jake protested mildly. I heard he's been working at Swann & Cranston in New York. That's a top-notch firm. He must have something going for him. Jake tossed his paper towel away.

Yeah, something going for him all right--his old man. Larry laughed derisively, as he reached for a towel, and began drying his own hands. Fallin probably pulled some strings to get his kid that plum assignment. You know how it is, You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours', that whole old boys' network.

Well, I don't know about that....

I'm telling you, having the right connections, that's how to get ahead in this world, Jake. Guys like you and me, we have to work for everything we get. Nobody's standing around waiting to hand us anything gratis. A guy like Nick Fallin probably doesn't know what real work is.

Well, I admit having connections helps. I'm not stupid, Larry. But come on, I mean, I think we have to give this guy a chance. We haven't even met him yet.

Well, I'm just trying to give you a friendly warning. You and all the other junior associates better watch yourselves. This kid Fallin could turn out to be a big headache. And if he can't pull his weight, guess whose shoulders the extra work is going to fall on? Yours, that's who. Yours and the other poor saps that the old man teams him up with.

Jake shook his head skeptically. Well, I still say we have to wait and see, give the guy the benefit of the doubt. After all, if he's even half the lawyer his father is, that's saying a lot. Who knows? Maybe it's in the genes.

Well, when you're working your butt off trying to clean up this guy's messes don't say I didn't warn you. That's all I'm saying.

With a final meaningful look at Jake, Larry Heinz shot his wadded-up paper towel into the waste can, and walked out of the restroom. Jake shook his head in mild disgust. He'd always believed Heinz was something of a snake, but this was the limit, to try to poison him against Nick Fallin before the poor guy even walked in the door? It was unbelievable. And low. Really low. He couldn't understand it. What was Heinz' motivation anyway? Surely Nick Fallin couldn't be a threat to Larry's position. The guy was only two years out of law school for Pete's sake. No, he didn't understand it, but he resolved to be careful in the future of anything he might say around Larry Heinz. That guy was not to be trusted.

---+---

Nick Fallin, briefcase in hand, walked into the offices of Fallin and Associates at 9:00 sharp. He had been staying at his father's house since renting a car and driving down from New York City on Saturday. He still had the rental, but his father's assistant Sheila was supposed to be arranging for a leased car for him today. As he walked through the monogrammed glass door into the lobby, he was struck by the familiarity of the place. His dad had moved the firm into this suite of offices in the Frick building about twelve years ago. Nick had been there several times, but usually on the weekend when few other people were around. And the last time he'd visited must be more than four years ago now.

He walked past the receptionist, who gave him a polite, but curious smile, and back toward his father's office. He knew his dad should already be here, as he had left the house before Nick. As he approached the office, he saw Sheila was at her desk outside Burton's door. She looked up as Nick drew near, and smiled. She was on the phone, but signaled that she would be through in a moment. Nick glanced around while waiting for her to finish. Although it was still fairly early there were already several people going here and there about their business.

Sheila ended her call, and greeted Nick warmly. Nick! Nice to see you again. I know your dad has really been looking forward to this day.... She smiled at him fondly, and then said, So let's see now, I've got some things for you. Opening a drawer, she pulling out a cellphone and a small plastic packet of information, and handed them to Nick. This is yours. The instruction manual is inside. Your phone number is on that yellow sticky on the front cover. We pay a set rate per month for the service so you don't have to worry about how many minutes of air time you use. Your business cards should be here in the next day or two. They should have been here already, but there was a foul-up at the printers. Let's see, what else...oh, yes. She pulled a piece of paper from a stack on the side of here desk, and handed it to Nick. Here's the information about the car lease. I've talked to the manager down there, and it's all set. You just need to go over, and pick out the car you want.

Nick nodded, and said, Okay. Thanks.

And your dad's free. You can go on in. Before the words were quite out of her mouth, her phone rang. Nick nodded, and turned to his father's door as he heard Sheila say in a pleasant, yet officious voice, Fallin and Associates. Burton Fallin's office. How may I help you?

With a brief knock, Nick opened the door, and walked in. Burton looked up at his entrance, and smiled.

Hey, son. So you found the place, huh? His smile broadened in pleasure at his own joke.

Nick half-smiled, and said,

Well, come on in. Take a seat. Burton gestured to one of the two chairs placed in front of his desk. Nick moved to a chair, and sat down, empty briefcase on his lap. He realized all the sudden that this had a certain uncomfortable familiarness about it--his father behind the desk; him before it. When he was growing up, his father's study had often been the setting for the firm delivery of scoldings and lectures. Nick had known in those days that a summons to the study was rarely a good thing. As he relived those memories, he became aware that he had unconsciously assumed the posture he had taken on those occasions-- body bent forward, head down. With a sharp, silent self-reprimand, he forced himself to sit up straight, and look his father in the eye.

Burton didn't seem to notice the abrupt change in posture. Well, son, first I thought we'd take a look at your office, and then I'll introduce you around a bit. How's that sound?

Nick said, with a nod.

Good. I'm going to start you out working along side a young man named Jake Straka. He's been here a couple years, and he can show you the ropes. Tell you who to go to for what, that kind of thing.... Jake's good, not brilliant, but very good. Extremely conscientious, and that's an important quality. And he's not afraid of hard work. I like that. Burton paused, and looked at Nick expectantly. So, any questions before I show you around?

Nick considered the question for just a few seconds, and then said, No. Not right now.

Okay then. Let's go see your office.

Burton got up and walked out from behind the desk. Nick rose too, and father and son walked out of the office together. Burton led the way back toward the front of the suite, turned right at the receptionist's desk, and then turned again into a hallway that ran behind the staircase. He stopped at the second door on the right. It already had the name Nicholas Fallin painted on the opaque glass.

Here we are, son, Burton said with a smile, and opened the door. Nick walked in first, followed closely by his father. The office was of a generous size, with a window along one wall. There was a desk with a glass table-top, and a couple large credenzas. It was a very nice office. The walls were painted in the same medium olive green as was visible throughout the Fallin and Associates' suite. This was much nicer than the cubby-hole Nick had had back at Swann & Cranston. And, he realized, much nicer than your average two-year associate could probably expect here too. But he wasn't going to complain. If his father wanted to give him a nice office that was okay with him.

How you like it? Burton asked, pleased with himself.

Great. It's great, Dad. Thanks.

You're welcome. And you deserve it, son. I expect big things from you. He smiled encouragingly at Nick. Why, uh, why don't you leave your briefcase in here, and I'll start introducing you around?

Nick put his briefcase down on the desk, then with a final look about the room, followed his dad out the door.

---+---

Jake Straka was walking toward his office when he heard someone call out, Oh, Jake. He recognized the voice as that of his boss, Burton Fallin, managing partner and founder of Fallin and Associates. Jake stopped, and turned around. He saw Burton with a man he didn't know, a man maybe a few years younger than himself. He realized immediately that this must be Burton's son, Nick.

Mr. Fallin, Jake said.

Jake, I want you to meet my son, Nick. Nick, this is Jake Straka.

Jake stuck out his hand to Nick as Burton was finishing the introductions. The two men exchanged a brief handshake.

As they faced each other, Jake couldn't help but study the younger Fallin. He was about Jake's own height, handsome, with ash-blonde hair that was a little on the longish side, thick and curly. Jake couldn't help but be a little envious of such a head of hair. At 30, his own hair was already noticeably thin on top. Yep, he bet the girls fell all over this guy--money and looks. Quite a combination.... Jake couldn't detect any family resemblance to Burton, but then maybe the son took after the mother. He turned his attention to the younger Fallin's attire. He was wearing a very sharp-looking suit. Jake thought it was probably Armani. He could tell it was expensive, whatever the brand, and well-cut. The suit was black, and Fallin wore a crisp white shirt, and black and white patterned tie underneath. He cut an impressive figure, did this new heir apparent.

Burton was speaking, and Jake broke off his inspection of Nick to pay attention to what his boss was saying.

Jake, I'd like Nick to work with you for a while. Just till he knows his way around, gets familiar with how we do things around here. Understand? Jake nodded. I thought, to start, he could, uhm, help you out with the Crietonville case. How's that sound?

Fine, Mr. Fallin. Whatever you say.

Okay. Well, I've got an afternoon meeting I need to get ready for. Why don't you, why don't you take Nick to your office, and familiarize him with the case?

Sure, no problem.

Burton turned to leave, but then looked back. And, oh, Jake, I introduced Nick around to the partners and some of the senior associates. Could you see that he meets the receptionists, the secretaries, and the paralegals? Anybody you think he might need to know. I'd appreciate it.

Sure thing. It'd be my pleasure.

Nicholas, I'll see you for lunch. 12:00, all right?

All right, Nick agreed.

At that, Burton Fallin walked away, and the two young men were left alone. Jake found Nick regarding him with a deceptively mild expression. Something in Nick's look made him realize that while he had been sizing up the younger Fallin, he had been being sized up in return. He was amused by this, and worked hard to keep it from showing on his face.

Well, uh, I guess we can start with introducing you to some of the staff you haven't met yet.

Jake proceeded to introduce Nick to the women at Reception, and all the secretaries and paralegals that he could find at their desks. Jake couldn't miss the fact that many of the younger woman were looking at Nick with a speculative eye. He knew what they must be thinking: son of the managing partner, and handsome to boot--yum!

Next Jake showed Nick the kitchen, the copy room, the supply room (where Nick picked up a couple legal pads and pens and pencils), and the legal library. At that last stop, Jake explained the procedures that were to be followed when removing materials from the library. When Jake ran out of things to show the younger man, he led the way back to his office. It was off a corridor in the rear of the F & A suite. As they entered the office, Jake saw Nick glance around with interest. It suddenly occurred to him that the office wasn't much to look at--8 x 8, with no window.

Where did they put you? Jake found himself asking.

Off that hallway that runs behind the staircase. Second door down.

said Jake. He was familiar with that office. It had last been occupied by Rich Jenkins. Jenkins had had six years in with the firm before he'd left last month for a job in Boston. Jake thought to himself ruefully. I guess maybe Larry Heinz had a point about connections', after all. Pulling his thoughts back to the business at hand, he invited Nick to take a seat, as he took his own chair behind the desk.

he said, in what he hoped was a tone of friendly interest, I hear you were with Swann and Cranston in New York?

That's right. Nick replied.

That's quite a firm. I understand it's one of the largest in the city. What's it like, working for a big firm like that?

Nick considered for a second before answering levelly. It's exciting. Always some big case in the works. Very dog-eat-dog, though. The competition for advancement can get pretty cut-throat.... Overall, I'd guess it's nothing like here.

Jake said, and contemplated Nick's words for a moment before saying, Well, I guess we should get started. He then launched into an explanation of the Crietonville case. Crietonville, PA. was an industrial town about 40 miles NE of Pittsburgh. It was the home of Chemaclean, one of the worlds biggest producers of industrial solvents, cleansers, and other chemicals, chemicals used in thousands of factories around the world. A few years ago, a local doctor had noticed that there were an unusual number of birth defects occurring in this small town. He did some research, and discovered that the birth defect rate for Crietonville going back forty years was twenty times higher than the national average. Eventually state officials got involved, and then the EPA, and it was discovered that the whole town was contaminated with dangerous chemicals that had been illegally dumped, or had otherwise originated, from the Chemaclean plant. Fallin and Associates was handling a class action law suit for the residents of Crietonville against Chemaclean. It was expected to be a multi-million dollar case.

As he spoke, Jake was pleased to see that not only was Nick Fallin listening attentively, he was taking notes, as well. That's a good sign, he thought to himself. Jake next told Nick that the partner heading up the case was Jeb Mitchell. You met Jeb? Jake asked.

Uh-huh. Actually, I first met him several years ago, but I spoke to him again this morning.

Oh, okay, said Jake. He then proceeded to explain where the suit stood at this point, the tasks he himself had been assigned, and what he thought lay ahead for the case.

By the end of the session, Jake had to admit he was impressed. It was obvious that Fallin was a quick study. He asked questions in all the right places, and they were the right questions to boot. Jake glanced at his watch, and realized that it was nearly 12:00. He'd better let Fallin go so that he could meet his dad for that lunch. Tiny seeds of envy fought to take root in Jake's mind, but he stomped them down. He'd never been envious by nature, and he didn't intend to start now.

Sheila was not at her desk when Nick walked up to his father's door, but he had seen through the glass partition that his dad was alone, so he just knocked once briefly, and then entered. Burton glanced up to see who it was, then looked back down at the papers in front of him, saying, Hey, Nick. Be with you in a minute. Just need to finish something up here. Nick walked over to the window, and gazed out. His father's offices were on the 19th floor, but most of the view was blocked by the surrounding office buildings. Still, the large windows let in a lot of light, which was an advantage. He let his mind wander until he heard his father say, Okay. All set. Nick turned, and saw Burton getting up from his desk.

His father said, We're having lunch with Bernie Finestein. He's one of my oldest clients, and a hell of a smart guy. He's getting up there in years (must be pushing 85, at least), but he's still involved in the day-to-day running of his chain of electronics stores. You've heard the name, I'm sure--Advanced Electronics. He wanted to see me today, and I thought we'd do meet over lunch.

Nick just nodded, but didn't say anything. Burton grabbed his suit jacket, and put it on. Glancing once at the papers left out on his desk, he headed for the door. Nick fell into step behind his father.

On the drive to lunch, Burton asked Nick how things had gone that morning.

Nick said. Straka seems like a good guy. He brought me up-to-speed on the Crietonville case. I think there are a couple places were I can offer a fresh approach.

Burton nodded. Great, son. That's what I like to hear. I know you'll be running circles around the other associates in no time.

---+---

Burton and Nick were walking in the doors of Fallin and Associates after lunch as a man was approaching the lobby. He was slender, with dark blondish hair, and appeared to Nick to be in his late thirties or early forties. Oh, Larry, Burton said. I don't believe you've met my son yet. Nick, this is Larry Heinz, one of our senior associates.

Nick and Heinz shook hands. It's great to finally meet you, Nick, Larry said pleasantly. Your father speaks very highly of you. I want you to know we're all extremely pleased to have you here. I'm sure you're going to be a great asset to the firm. Looking forward to working with you.

Nick said, although privately he thought that Heinz was pouring it on a bit thick.

Well, I'm due across the street for a meeting at Kirk and McGee. Nice meeting you, Nick.

Nice meeting you too, Nick replied evenly.

With a nod to the two men, Larry Heinz left for his appointment.

See you later, son, Burton said, as he started to head to his office.

Nick answered, turning toward his own office.

---+---

It was almost 4:30, and Nick had been working non-stop since lunch on the Crietonville case. He'd sought Jake out once or twice for clarification of a couple points, but most of his time had been spent deeply buried in the details of the case itself. Now he leaned back in his chair, and rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand. He felt a little stiff. He decided it was time to get up, and stretch a little. He rose, and walked over to the window. While looking out at the city he performed a few simple maneuvers to get the kinks out--rotating his head in a circle, rolling his shoulders, stretching his arms out behind him.

He loved his work, but sometimes sitting behind a desk for hours at a time was a real drag. He wondered idly what it would be like to have the kind of job where you were outside all day, say...a utility repair man. At the thought, the corners of his lips pulled up in a sardonic smile. He could just imagine the look on his father's face if he'd announced THAT as a career choice--that he wanted to climb power poles and repair electric lines for a living. Oh, yeah, that would have gone over really big. As Nick imagined his father's reaction to such a statement, a small chuckle escaped his lips.

Nick stood with his hands on his hips, looked out the window, and turned his attention to the work day that would soon be coming to an end. He thought it had gone well. Things seemed to be pretty much as he had expected them to be. He realized it was only his first day, and that wasn't much to go by, but he believed it was all going to turn out all right. He thought he could find his niche here--be comfortable--working as an associate in his father's firm. And he was determined to excel. To prove to his dad that his faith in him, in his abilities, was not misplaced. He still marveled at how complimentary his father had been over dinner that night in New York. How he had praised his son's skills. If Nick hadn't heard it with his own ears he probably would have never believed it.

When he was a little boy, he used to go to sleep at night dreaming of the day he'd take his place beside his dad at Fallin and Associates. His earliest answer to What do want to be when you grow up, Nicky? had revolved around becoming a lawyer and working for his father. It was a common little-boy dream, he knew, to wish to grow up and be just like Daddy. And he hadn't been immune to it himself. Of course, that aspiration had gone underground when his parents separated and then divorced. Suddenly he had had no desire to be anything like his father, none at all (Nick felt the old anger rekindling at those memories, and quickly snuffed it out).

But as the years had passed, he still found himself attracted to the idea of the law. He told himself it had nothing to do with his father. It was just a discipline that he found intriguing in it's own right. That was all. Burton Fallin's choice of professions had nothing to do with his own. Nothing. He was his own man, not an extension of his father. But...he knew now he'd been deceiving himself. It had struck home that evening in New York when his father had made him the offer to come work with him.

He'd realized that night that all the reasons he'd given himself for pursuing the law were valid. They were good reasons. But they were dwarfed by one overriding consideration, one whose import he had kept hidden from himself. It was the fact that the law was his father's profession. That was it. It was that simple. It was kind of pathetic, really, Nick thought, a self-deprecating smile appearing on his face. He, Nick Fallin, was no better than all those other young wannabes at Yale Law. The favored sons', whose fathers or grandfathers had begun the family tradition. He was no different from them. He too, had wanted to emulate his father, to, to earn his respect. What better way to do that than by following in his footsteps? Even after all these weeks, it was still something he wanted to deny, this disquieting revelation about himself.

Nick ran a hand down the back of his head, and let out a heavy sigh. All this deep thought was wearying. He usually tried to avoid psychoanalyzing himself. He avoided it like the plague, if truth be told. He didn't like where it took him when he started exploring his own motivations, his own reasons for making the choices he'd made. He preferred to only deal with his surface-self, the self he presented to the world. Realizing he had spent enough time wool-gathering, Nick headed back to his desk to resume his work.

---+---

Nick looked up when the knock came at the door. he said. The door opened, and his father walked in.

Hi. You about done here, Nick? Sheila says if you want to pick out that car tonight you need to get over there by 6:00, and it's 5:30 now.

At his father's words, Nick glanced at his watch reflexively.

Burton continued. If you want, you could head on over there, and choose a car. Then you could drop off the rental car, and I'd, uh, I'd pick you up from there. Call me when you're getting ready to head that direction--Sheila gave you your cellphone, right? Nick nodded that she had. Okay. Call me when you're on your way over there, and I can meet you. Nick nodded again. Then in the morning, I'll drop you off at the leasing company, and you can pick up the new car. How's, uh, how's that sound?

Okay. I'll finish up here, and go over there now.

Fine. Just remember to call me when you're on your way to the rental agency. Which one is it?

It's Avis. I figured I'd drop the car off at the airport.

Okay. Well, I'll see you a little later, son.

All right.

Burton left then, closing the door behind him. Nick briefly debated taking the papers he'd been working on home with him. He thought it was unlikely he'd actually pick them up again tonight, but it couldn't hurt to take them just in case. So, he put them in his briefcase. He stood up, and did a quick check of the room to see if there was anything he was forgetting. Satisfied there wasn't, he picked up his briefcase, and walked out the door. He paused to lock his office before proceeding down the hallway. The receptionist threw him a friendly good night' as he passed by. He smiled at her, and nodded to acknowledge her farewell. Then he passed out of the front doors of Fallin and Associates, and headed for the elevator. As he waited for the car to come, he realized that he was eager to return the next day. Eager to get about the business of demonstrating to his father and the other people that mattered at the firm that he could pull his weight, that he could be entrusted with handling his own cases. He knew that was expecting a lot, given his level of experience, but he thought he was ready for the extra responsibility that it entailed. He was ready. He knew it, and he would convince others of the fact too. He intended to set this little corner of the world on fire. And that was a promise.

The End.