FAMILY
 
Author: Cara Mia
  
Email: cara_dirossi@yahoo.co.uk 
  
Rating: NC-17
  
Summary:  Sparks start to fly between Nicholas and the woman he has had
a crush on since he was fifteen.

Pairing: Nicholas Fallin/OC
  
Disclaimer: "The Guardian" and all of its characters belongs to those
guys over at CBS that wear three-pieced suits and can afford to hire
lawyers. I do own the character of Amelia Sachs-Fallin, however. No
profit is being made from this fanfic.
 
 
*~*~*~*~*~*
 
It was one thirty in the afternoon, most of the associates had returned
from their one-hour lunches at the upscale sandwich bars and bistros
that dotted downtown Pittsburgh's business district, and Fallin and
Associates was as usual a hub of activity.
 
Nicholas himself had just returned from the Courthouse, grabbing an
obligatory sandwich on the way, but his distaste with the latest case he
shouldered from his community service at Children's Legal Services of
America, left a vile taste in his mouth. He had sat through the legal
steam- rolling of a sixteen-year-old former crack baby, who would have
her child taken away from her by the system under grounds that as a
child herself, her behaviour has shown she would be an unfit parent to
her unborn child and, although her foster parents had offered to take in
both the girl and the baby, she was to turn her baby over to Social
Services directly after birth.
 
He had sat and watched as the young girl bawled in her foster mother's
arms, unable to do anything - the case was a foregone conclusion. The
least he could try to do was arrange for an open adoption, or to at
least work along with the girl's foster parents to apply for full
adoption of the girl.
 
Nicholas sighed - sometimes he hated his life, particularly this job. He
only had a total of 65 hours of community service left, but, despite the
circumstances under which he had started work there, he had a gut
feeling that after his obligation was up, he would continue to work at
the cash- strapped law office. In the few short months he had been
there, his eyes had been opened up to the harsh reality that some
children had to go through today. As a lawyer he had already become
jaded by the evil and wrong doing that some people could do. But he was
a corporate lawyer - he represented slick thieves in three-pieced suits,
who he could overcharge without batting an eyelid, not grubby
schoolchildren who didn't have two pennies of their own to rub together.
 
Nicholas smirked ruefully - he actually liked the grubby schoolchildren
better than their green-backed loaded counterparts. He shouldered his
way off the elevator along with three other late returning associates,
and headed toward his office.
 
"Nicholas," Annette, his receptionist called out.
 
"Yes," he paused at the door, hand on the handle.
 
"You have a visitor -"
 
Nick didn't wait for her to continue, he simply pushed open the door and
shut it heavily behind him. "I'm sorry to be late -" he started as he
walked quickly toward his desk, but trailed off as his visitor turned to
face him.
 
The woman sitting before his desk smiled softly as she took stock of his
reaction. "Hello, Nick," she said still smiling.
 
Nick's eyes widened as he gazed at the still beautiful face of Amelia
Sachs- Fallin - cousin Freddie's wife. "Amelia." he finally managed,
resuming his walk to his desk. "What are you doing -"
 
"In Pittsburgh?" she finished for him, turning to face him as he stood
by his desk.
 
"Yes. Isn't school in session?"
 
"Can't I come to visit my family?" she asked cheekily, blatantly
sidestepping his other question.
 
Nick chuckled, "Freddie's family, Amelia, if you can call it that.
You're an angel."
 
Amelia shared his laugh. "Still a charmer are you, Nick? All you Fallin
men are the same."
 
The way she said that caused Nick's chuckle to die in his throat and he
shrewdly took stock of the woman sitting before him. At forty-two years
old, Amelia looked like a woman at least ten years younger, her trim
figure clothed elegantly in a crisp mint-green pantsuit that accentuated
her long legs. She wore very little makeup but still managed to outshine
any woman Nick knew.
 
Nick mounted her on a pedestal, subconsciously comparing every woman he
met to her and, so far, no one had even come close.
 
She looked tired though, he noted. He could see light violet smudges
under her brilliant emerald green eyes, and as she spoke, her voice had
been huskier than usual. She must be sicker. His heart bled for the
beautiful woman looking up at him.
 
Amelia looked away slightly discomfited by Nick's knowing glance.
"Aren't you going to offer me something to drink, Nick?" she asked,
chuckling again, breaking the ensuing silence. "I thought I taught you
better than that."
 
Nick opened his mouth to accuse her of dodging the question, when a
knock sounded at the door and Burton barged into the office.
 
"Nicholas I need you to -" he broke off as he recognized Nick's visitor.
"Amelia!" he exclaimed.
 
"Burton," replied Amelia, accepting the fatherly kiss on her cheek from
her husband's uncle.
 
"Well this is a surprise," he continued, coming to stand beside his son.
"What are you doing-"
 
"In Pittsburgh?" she finished the question for the second time that day.
"I was just getting around to telling Nick that when you came in."
 
Nick arched an eyebrow at that, knowing full well Amelia had had no
intention of answering his question. "I came to see you two bachelors,"
she said, sitting back in her chair. "I haven't seen you two since
Freddie and I came down for Memorial Day last year. I was beginning to
think that you two had killed one another when I hadn't heard from
either of you in months."
 
Burton chuckled. "Nah, you know us Fallins. If we'd killed each other,
you would've heard about it, believe me."
 
Amelia laughed out right, her clear musical laughter bringing a
reluctant smile to Nick's face.
 
"By God it's good to hear you laugh again girl," announced Burton,
taking Amelia's smaller hand in his.
 
"It's great to have something like you two morons to laugh at," she
replied, sticking her tongue out at Nick.
 
"I resent that comment," Nick shot back.
 
Burton laughed again. "There's nothing I would like better than to stay
here and chat with my beautiful niece but I have a meeting with some
clients of mine," he announced, straightening. "When are you leaving, dear?"
 
Amelia paused, considering the question. "Three days from now. I have a
doctor's appointment tomorrow."
 
"Great. Well, promise to have dinner with Nick and I before you leave."
 
"I will," she replied, kissing him on the cheek.
 
Burton headed to the door. As if suddenly remembering, he turned back to
Amelia. "By the way, Amelia, how's Freddie?"
 
Amelia's face darkened imperceptibly. "He's fine," she replied neutrally.
 
Burton who hadn't caught the change in Amelia's visage continued,
"Wonderful. Now, don't forget about dinner."
 
"I won't."
 
The door closed behind Burton, leaving Amelia and Nick alone.
 
In a move that he would never have dared when he was younger, Nick
stepped right into her personal space and kneeled before her, turning
her chair toward him, forcing her to look at him. "Quit hedging Amelia,"
he commanded gently. "We both know you're not in Pittsburgh to check up
on me and my Dad or even for a damned Doctor's appointment. What are you
really doing here?"
 
"I *am* here for a Doctor's appointment, Nicky," she replied, her temper
starting to flare.
 
Nick's eyes narrowed at the use of the hated nickname Cousin Freddie had
bestowed on him when he was a child. "Ok, I'll give you that. But we
both know if you were just here for a Doctor's appointment, you would
have called us up and invited us over for dinner the night before you
left for New York again, not show up at the office. Quit beating around
the bush, Amelia. What are you doing here?"
 
"Alright!" exclaimed Amelia softy. "Stop badgering me, Nick."
 
Nick nodded and stood up and away from her.
 
Amelia paused, gathering her thoughts. "I want a divorce," she announced.
 
For the second time that afternoon, Nick had been rendered speechless.
"What? A divorce? From who? Freddie?"
 
Amelia rolled her eyes. "No, from Barney. Of course from Freddie. Who
else have I been married to for the past sixteen years?"
 
Nicholas robotically moved to his chair and sat down heavily in it. "But
why?" he finally asked.
 
Amelia looked away, choosing her words carefully. "He's having an
affair," she announced, glancing at him to check his reaction.
 
Nick wasn't too surprised to hear this as possible grounds. Cousin
Freddie had always been a ladies-man, and marriage hadn't been a
deterrent in the slightest way. "You know this or you just assumed?"
 
Amelia shook her head roughly. "I know it," she replied, her voice
filled with conviction.
 
"How?"
 
"I hired an investigator," she announced, smiling bitterly. "Best
investment I ever made." She reached into her handbag and produced a
small service envelope and tossed it across the desk. "Open it," she
invited, indicating the envelope.
 
Nick reached for the envelope, his blue-eyed gaze riveted to the woman
across the desk from him. He opened it, and produced a series of black
and white photographs. Clearly captured was his cousin Frederick Fallin,
slightly bald but as handsome as ever in the company of a beautiful
light haired companion: leaving upscale restaurants; Bloomingdale's;
Tiffany's; The Park Hotel; kissing in front a Starbucks.
 
"She's beautiful isn't she?" Amelia asked softly, after Nick still
hadn't said a word in five silent minutes.
 
She was, thought Nick, but nowhere as near beautiful as Amelia. The
blonde looked cosmetically enhanced: big bust, super small waist - the
type of beauty that faded in time.
 
"Her name is Madeline Skinner," she continued, struggling to keep the
hurt out of her voice. "She's twenty-six and works with him at the
company. Apparently used to be a receptionist, now she's an 'executive
assistant'." Amelia took in a deep shuddering breath.
 
"How long?" asked Nick softly.
 
Amelia shrugged. "God knows. Freddie hasn't been home in seven months,
Nick. Seven months!" her voiced cracked, and she roughly wiped away the
tears that sluiced down her cheek.
 
"It all started with the classic signs. He would miss dinner, then call
and apologise, saying a meeting ran overdue, or he had to work late.
Some nights he'd call and say he can't make it home, it's too late,
he'll stay at the Company suite at the Plaza. But when I'd call there,
he wouldn't even have checked in. Some nights he wouldn't even bother to
call.
 
"I finally really caught on at the last executive dinner. Get this, his
secretary. his fucking *secretary* looks at *me*, her boss's wife with
pity in her eyes. I'm not stupid Nick, I knew something was up. So the
next day, I used the Yellow Pages for a PI. The guy followed him for a
week before he gave me back those. I've had them for two months. I
didn't know what to do."
 
Nick tossed the photos away from him, and sat back in the chair, fingers
perched under his chin. "Did you talk to Freddie?"
 
Amelia shook her head. "Nope. I spoke to him last night. He called me
from the company office in Chicago, him acting like everything's all
fine and dandy . the little prick still thinks he's still got the wool
pulled over my eyes."
 
"Why are you showing me these, Amelia?"
 
Amelia sighed. "I want you to handle my divorce, Nick."
 
Speechless for the third time. "What?"
 
"I want you to handle my divorce," she repeated, the conviction evident
in her tone.
 
"I'm a corporate lawyer, Amelia, not a family lawyer, you know that. Why
would you come all the way to Pittsburgh when you have your own lawyers
in New York?"
 
"I trust you, Nick."
 
That gave Nick pause. "And you don't trust Marty Harowitz?"
 
"Marty Harowitz is Freddie's lawyer, not mine. Just like Webster is
Freddie's banker, and Arnold is Freddie's accountant."
 
"And *I'm* Freddie's cousin," he pointed out. "And my father helped
*raise* Freddie."
 
"And you both know what a first-class asshole he is," Amelia inserted,
hoping to lighten the mood.
 
"Don't make light of this, Amelia. I can't represent you."
 
"Why not, Nick?"
 
"It's a conflict of interest. He's my cousin."
 
"Exactly. He'll take you seriously."
 
Nick scoffed, "Oh, please Amelia. Freddie Fallin has never taken me
seriously a day in his life. Besides, I'm *not* a divorce lawyer, I
wouldn't know what to do. Why don't you just go back to New York and
hire another lawyer besides Marty Harowitz. With those pictures it
shouldn't be a hassle."
 
"I don't want another lawyer, Nick, I want you."
 
In another context, Nick would have rejoiced at her words, but he knew
she had uttered them in innocence.
 
"I can't, Amelia." he trailed off at the imploring look she gave him.
 
"My doctor says my muscles are deteriorating a lot faster than they
should be. At this rate I'll be in a wheelchair by this time next year.
The year after that, if I live long enough, I won't even be able to move.
 
"I *don't* want to be married to Freddie then. He's already killing me
enough as it is. He is going to break what little self-respect I have
left if I stay with him. I want to die Amelia Sachs PhD., not Amelia
Sachs- Fallin, wife of the incredible Wall-Street moneymaker.
 
"Do you understand me, Nick?" she continued, her eyes not leaving his.
"I've never asked you for anything, but I'm asking you now. Would you
handle this for me?"
 
Nick said nothing, evaluating all that she had just told him. He knew
she hadn't brought up her illness to guilt-trip him, but to merely make
him understand just how important it was that she be divorced from
Freddie before she died. And she *would* die soon.
 
Amelia had been diagnosed with the muscular degenerative disorder of
Myasthenia Gravis eight years ago. She and Freddie had been trying to
conceive for years without luck, and they finally knew why. The disease
had progressed at an alarmingly fast rate, and Amelia had been forced to
start walking with a cane two years ago. Some days, she was so weak and
tired that she couldn't even get out of bed without help. That had
prompted her to resign from her lecturing position at Columbia because
she was no help to her students anymore. She didn't have the energy to
brush her own hair some days much less lecture to and grade papers for
over two hundred students. She hadn't told Nick and Burton she's
resigned yet either.
 
She quietly watched Nick as he pondered the situation. She didn't know
what prompted her to ask Nick to handle her divorce - Burton would have
been much more competent, but she wanted to get to know the new Nicholas
Fallin, so much a man now than a boy. He had always been a kind person:
perhaps a little quiet and detached at times, hard with his father,
indifferent to others, but he'd always been good to her. Perhaps it was
grounded in the fact that he had always carried a torch for her, but it
was there nonetheless. She hoped he would do this for her, even if it
was for that reason only.
 
"Ok," he finally replied.
 
"Ok?" she asked, just to be sure she heard him correctly.
 
"Fine, I'll do it."
 
Amelia smiled, her bright grin lighting the room. She released a breath
she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. "Thank you," she said.
 
Nicholas nodded. "No problem."
 
"When can you get started?" she asked.
 
Nick shrugged. "I'm in Court tomorrow for most of the day. I should be
through by five. You can pass back here then, I'll be in the office."
 
Amelia shook her head. "Why don't we just talk over dinner. I don't want
your father knowing just yet."
 
"Why not? He's gonna be curious anyways. And he's bound to find out."
 
"I don't want him to tell Freddie I'm onto him."
 
Nick scoffed. "You know as well as I do that my father doesn't tell
Freddie anything."
 
"Ok, I just don't want him to get too involved."
 
"Involved? Amelia, this is his firm and Freddie is his nephew. Of course
he's gonna be involved."
 
"Fine, Nick, whatever. Just promise me that *you'll* be the one to
handle this, not your father, not some associate, *you*."
 
"I promise."
 
Amelia nodded her head with renewed conviction. "Gosh, look at the
time," she exclaimed, looking down at her watch. She grabbed her cane
with ornate silver head, and slowly yet gracefully rose to her feet. In
her heels, she looked Nick directly in the eye, without them, directly
at the hallow in his throat. Recently, she had taken to wearing
low-slung mules with everything, and so she could see the muscle ticking
at his throat. "I'm going to go, now."
 
"Let me see you out," Nick offered, taking her arm in his.
 
"Thank you, Nick. Charmer," she teased, her green eyes sparkling.
 
Nick chuckled as he opened the door, and escorted her to the elevator,
walking slowly, allowing for her laborious gait. On the way there, he
noticed the numerous appreciative and curious glances in their direction.
 
Amelia noticed as well. "I see you still capture the ladies' attention,
eh, Nick?" she teased, as they waited by the elevator.
 
"Nah, I think they're wondering who's that beautiful woman with me."
 
Amelia's clear, bell-like laughter rang through the lobby, causing the
others to look over at them. The ding signaled the arrival of the
elevator car. "Yup, Nick, you definitely still are a charmer." She
stepped forward and brushed a soft kiss on his cheek before stepping
onto the elevator, her green eyes sparkling at the boyish grin that
spread across his face.
 
 
 
 
 
PART 2
 
 
 
Fallin and Associates (the next day - 7:20 p.m.)
 
Nicholas hadn't even realized how late it was until Amanda knocked on
his door: "Hey Nick, I'm heading out. Do you want to join me for
dinner?" she asked hopefully.
 
Nick glanced up at the beautiful redheaded associate at his door, an
expectant expression on her face. On any other day he wouldn't have
minded, but he wanted to get these reports finished; besides, he was
waiting for Amelia to call back. "Sorry kid. I've got other plans."
 
Amanda frowned. "Oh. I'm sorry," she finally said, fighting hard to keep
the disappointment from her voice. "I'll see you tomorrow then," she
continued, reluctantly closing the door behind her.
 
Another half-hour passed until Nick was finally finished and, glancing
at the clock he realized that Amelia still hadn't called him. He filed
away the documents and collected his coat, wondering if Amelia had
somehow forgotten about dinner when the telephone rang.
 
Annette had already left for the night, so Nick answered quickly.
"Nicholas Fallin."
 
"Nick," Amelia's husky voice washed over his senses.
 
"Amelia. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."
 
Amelia chuckled over the phone. "I'm sorry, Nick, my appointment ran
longer than expected," she explained.
 
"Is everything alright?" Nick asked, concerned.
 
"No, no everything's fine. I swear, you're such a worrywart sometimes,
Nick," she teased.
 
Nick laughed, allowing her to lighten the mood. "Are we still on for
tonight? I can meet you wherever."
 
"Yes, of course. I am a bit tired though. How about you just come over
here?"
 
"Here where?" asked Nick.
 
"I'm staying at The King. We can order room service and catch up. I'm
not up for a crowded restaurant tonight."
 
"Sure," Nick agreed, glancing at his watch. "I'll be there in half and
hour, is that alright?"
 
"That's great. I'll see you then."
 
Nick hung up, grabbed his coat and briefcase and headed out his office.
As he passed his father's office, he realized the light was still on. He
paused, and before he could lose his nerve, pushed open the door.
 
Burton, hunched over some briefs, looked up at the intrusion. He seemed
surprised to see Nick standing there. "Yes?" he asked expectantly.
 
"I'm having dinner with Amelia tonight," he announced.
 
Burton frowned, curious as to where this was leading.
 
"To discuss her divorce."
 
Burton's eyes widened. "What?"
 
"She came here to ask me to handle her divorce."
 
Burton sat back in shock. "Divorce? Why?"
 
"Freddie's being Freddie - he's having an affair."
 
"That little bastard!" exclaimed Burton, throwing down his pen.
 
"She asked me not to tell you," Nick paused at the flicker of hurt that
fluttered across his father's face, "but you're gonna find out anyway.
Just don't tell Freddie that she's onto him, ok?"
 
Burton nodded, settling down again. Nick turned to leave but his father
stopped him. "Well. I'm glad to see that she's finally come to her senses."
 
Nick barely cracked a smile. "Aren't we all?"
 
Half an hour later, Nick pulled his sleek silver BMW up to The King.
Handing the keys to the valet, he strode into the lobby, and up to the
front desk. The woman behind the desk gave him an appreciative glance
before asking, "May I help you, sir?"
 
"Yes, Nicholas Fallin here to see Amelia Sachs-Fallin."
 
"One moment please." The clerk put a call to Amelia's room where she
gained permission to send Nick up. "Yes sir, Penthouse floor, room 2,"
she directed.
 
"Thank you," Nick replied with a smile.
 
On the ride up, Nicholas realized that this would be the first time in
the seventeen years he had known Amelia that he would be having dinner
alone with her. The first time he'd met her, he had been a gangly
adolescent and she'd been a twenty-five year old bombshell completely
and utterly in love with his asshole cousin Freddie. He couldn't
understand what the hell she saw in him but, then again, Freddie had
always had a way with the ladies. Amelia had been the ultimate catch:
smart, beautiful, rich by her own right. Freddie had been unbelievably
lucky but now, in true Freddie fashion, he'd decided to trade her in for
someone younger and more 'beautiful'.
 
As the elevator doors slid open, Nick scoffed. No one was as beautiful
as Amelia. Certainly not some cosmetically enhanced bottle-blonde.
 
Nick knocked at the door, and few moments later, it swung open to reveal
a robe-clad Amelia.
 
"Nick, come on in," she invited, opening the door wider for him to pass
through.
 
"Thanks," he replied, setting his coat on the rack and taking his
briefcase with him into the room.
 
"I was just about to change when I got the call that you were
downstairs," she explained, moving past him, leaning on her cane. "Make
yourself at home, I'll only be a moment."
 
Amelia hobbled into her bedroom just off the living room. "Fix yourself
a drink, Nick. We can order room service when I'm done."
 
"Thanks," he replied, moving to the wet bar in the corner. "You want
anything?" he called.
 
Amelia, who had just dropped her robe, stuck her head around the corner.
"Gin and tonic, please."
 
While Nick busied himself with the drinks in the other room, Amelia
searched for something to wear. She was confused. She definitely liked
the new Nicholas Fallin. yet she didn't. She was a little attracted to
him, she'd admit - after all, what red-blooded female wouldn't be? But
she shouldn't be feeling this for a man ten years her junior, a man
she'd known since he was fifteen, her husband's *cousin*! Her
soon-to-be-ex-husband, that is.
 
"Are you alright in there?" Nick called after more than five minutes had
passed. "Your drink's turning to water and ice out here."
 
Amelia blushed, realizing she'd just practically zoned out. "I'm
coming." Hurriedly, she pulled on her underwear, a pair of old paint
splattered jeans and dragged an oversized Columbia sweatshirt over her
head. She dragged a brush through her thick wavy chestnut hair, scowling
at her reflection in the mirror, before snatching up her cane and
hobbling back into the living room.
 
She accepted her drink with a smile of gratitude and sat down on the
lounge, picking up the room service menu as she took an appreciative sip
of her drink.
 
Nick sat in a chair opposite her, watching her over the rim of his glass
as she perused the extensive room service menu. Her oversized sweatshirt
and jeans were a far cry from the tailored suits or blazers that she
usual wore. With her long wavy chestnut hair loose around her beautiful
face, she looked more like a college student than a professor with a PhD.
 
Amelia glanced up and caught him looking at her. Her breath caught in
throat as she recognized the smoky look in Nick's intense blue eyes. He
looked away before asking, "See anything interesting?"
 
She cleared her throat before speaking, "The clams were really good the
last time I was here. I think I'll have that again. What about you?" she
asked, sliding the menu across the table between them.
 
Nick shrugged. He wasn't that hungry anyway, but he obligingly picked up
the menu, perusing it absentmindedly. "I think I'll just have a steak
and potato."
 
"Ok," Amelia replied, picking up the vintage phone beside the lounge.
"Wine?"
 
Nick shook his head.
 
"Dessert?" she asked, knowing full well Nick didn't have that much of a
sweet tooth anyway. At his refusal she added, "I'll order some anyway."
She dialed the number and ordered the spicy clams, Nick's steak and
potato, and lava cake for dessert. "Half an hour," she announced,
setting down the phone.
 
"That's fine," he replied, setting his tumbler down on a coaster.
 
"Take off your jacket, Nick," she said. "We're not at the office, you know."
 
Nick grinned. "But you *are* a client," replied, shrugging off his
jacket. He loosened his tie, and rolled up his sleeves, exposing smooth
golden forearms.
 
"Ah, so you've truly decided to take me on as a client?"
 
Nick frowned. "I said I would, didn't I?"
 
Amelia smiled gratefully. "Yes, you did," she replied softly. "Thank you."
 
"You've said that before."
 
"And I'll keep saying it until you understand how much I truly
appreciate you handling this."
 
"Ok, ok!" Nick said holding up his hands in peace. "I get it."
 
"Good," she replied with a smile, taking another sip of her drink.
 
"Do you want to get started now, or after dinner?" he asked, reaching
into his briefcase and pulling out a notepad.
 
Amelia's smile faded. "I guess now's as good a time as any," she
replied, setting her drink down. "It shouldn't be too difficult. We had
a pre-nup."
 
"Do you have a copy of it here?" he asked, jotting that down on the notepad.
 
"Nope. It's back in Manhattan. Nothing too complicated - on divorce I
get a lump sum of five million, and $7500 a month in alimony."
 
"Any property?" he continued, scribbling furiously.
 
"I want the townhouse," she announced emphatically.
 
"That's all?" he asked, pausing to look at her in surprise. "Don't you
want Blue House?" he asked, referring to the beloved beach house in Cape
Cod.
 
Amelia looked away. "No," she replied shaking her head, " too many
memories." Her voice cracked.
 
Nick set down the notepad. "We don't have to do this now, Amelia," he
advised gently.
 
"Yes we do, Nick. I'm leaving for New York day after tomorrow. I want
you to get started on the papers as soon as possible."
 
"Fine," he relented, taking back up the notepad. "Are you sure you don't
want Blue House?" he asked.
 
She nodded. He put it down as a request anyway. "Any other property?"
 
"There's the house in Connecticut, and an apartment in LA. He can have
those."
 
Nick continued writing. "Special knick-knacks; other valuables?"
 
Amelia shook her head. "Everything I want is in the townhouse:
paintings, crystal, cutlery. Freddie can have whatever else he wants."
 
"Cars?"
 
Amelia smirked. "I can't drive anymore, Nick. Why would I need a car?
The Mercedes and Lexus at the townhouse, he can have. The Jeep at the
beach house, too. I only want the limo."
 
Nick nodded, and scribbled the requests. "Pets? What ever happened to
Rascal?" he asked, referring to Amelia's Golden Retriever.
 
"He died last year," she admitted sadly. "Snake bite at the Cod - we had
to put him down."
 
Nick frowned. "I'm sorry Amelia, I know how much he meant to you."
 
Amelia shrugged. "He had a full life. He would have missed Freddie too
much if he were here, though. I somehow don't think Madeline is much of
a dog person," she said cheekily, making light of the situation in
typical Amelia fashion.
 
Nick meant to say something else when a knock sounded at the door. "Room
service!"
 
"I'll get it," Nick offered, as Amelia made to get up. He opened the
door, stepping aside as the bellboy wheeled the cart in.
 
"Right here," Amelia said, indicating the spot next to her by the table.
The boy did as he was told, and turned to Nick expectantly, who fished
out a five-dollar bill to tip the boy.
 
"Thank you, sir. Have a nice night," he wished, as he saw his way out,
closing the door behind him.
 
"Hmmm, God, that smells heavenly," he heard Amelia say from behind him,
and he turned to see her leaning to smell the delicious scents of spicy
clams and fettuccine wafting from her plate. Suddenly, Nick was famished.
 
They were silent for most of the meal, both intent on their own meals
and satisfying their empty stomach. When Nick couldn't eat anymore, he
pushed away his empty plate and took another sip of his second Scotch,
as Amelia picked up her dessert fork and dug into a huge slice of
chocolate lava cake with relish.
 
Nick grinned. "Where do you put it all?" he asked Amelia.
 
"What?"
 
"All that food. You eat like a horse and you're thin as a rake."
 
Amelia stuck her tongue at him. "Great genes."
 
**I'll say** he thought, though he was more concerned about a pair of
tight paint-splattered blue jeans more so than biological genes. Jeans
that clung to her like a second skin, lovingly cupping her rear like a -
 
"Nick?" Amelia called for the second time.
 
Nick started. "Huh?"
 
"Aren't you going to eat your cake?"
 
Nick scowled. She knew he wouldn't. "No you go ahead, Professor. It's
all yours."
 
"Why thank you, sir," she replied, pushing away her now empty plate and
taking up his.
 
Nick grinned again, going through his notes as he sipped his scotch.
 
"So how long do you think this will all take?" she asked, setting Nick's
empty plate next to hers.
 
"Well, I can have the papers drawn up by next week, and send them to you
in New York before I send them to Freddie. If he has no objections, it
should be finalized in about six months."
 
"Freddie won't have any objections," she predicted bitterly. "Why does
it have to take so damned long though, Nick?"
 
"The law takes time. It also gives you time for both parties to change
their minds."
 
"I won't be changing my mind. Freddie would probably recommend me for
sainthood when he gets the papers."
 
Nick said nothing and Amelia sighed. "It's not like I've got anything
better to do. I've got lots of time on my hands."
 
"What do you mean? School's back in session in September, Amelia."
 
"Yes, but not for me, Nick," she admitted.
 
"What are you talking about?"
 
"I resigned from my position. My contract was up for renewal at the end
of the semester. I simply chose not to renew it."
 
"But why? Your students mean everything to you."
 
"Which is exactly why I had to do it, Nick. Some days I can't even find
the strength to get out of bed, or to comb my hair. I can't even help
myself much less two hundred college students," she said.
 
He knew giving up the job that had been such an integral part of her
life and was so important to her was probably one of the hardest things
she must have done. Life just seemed to be delivering slap after slap to
her face: first being unable to conceive, then being diagnosed with a
degenerative disorder, losing her ability to walk unaided, losing the
husband that she'd loved more than life itself, now her job.
 
"So what do you do with your days, now?" he asked, leaning back in the
chair.
 
"Actually," she said with a bright smile, "I don't have so much free
time on my hands as I let on. I volunteer at Our Lady of Mercy Hospital
reading to the kids in the pediatric wing. It's much more satisfying to
actually be a part of it than just writing a big fat check at the end of
the year. It's so much fun, Nick. I am now the best finger painter in
New York City!" she announced with an infectious laugh.
 
Nick couldn't help but smile. It was wonderful to hear her laugh again.
She'd had so little to truly laugh at recently. Her beautiful face took
on an animated quality as she continued, and Nick couldn't help but be
drawn into her little world.
 
"I started painting again, Nick. Murals. Huge, colourful, graceful
murals over at the hospital. It's amazing the free reign they give to a
person who donates so much to them. I'm about halfway through my first
one in the waiting room. That's why I want to get back to New York so soon."
 
"That's wonderful."
 
Amelia smiled, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him. Nick's heart
skipped a beat. "I'm happy, Nick. Or at least I'm gonna be happy when
this is all over. I know you probably think I don't have anything to be
happy about, but I *do*. For the first time in seventeen years, I get to
be *me*. Amelia Sachs: a stuck up lil rich girl from Westchester, who
wanted to become a college professor; not Amelia Sachs-Fallin, Freddie
Fallin's wife, the chick who teaches over at Columbia, you know?"
 
Nick did know. He knew how important a quest for individuality was. He'd
almost gone to jail on his quest for it. "I'm glad you're happy Amelia,"
he said huskily.
 
She smiled again. "What about you, Nick?" she asked softly. "I've been
going on and on about my problems when everything hasn't exactly been a
cup of tea for you, either."
 
Nick shook his head. "I'm alright. I'm a Fallin. We're survivors."
 
"You're human, Nick," she pointed out shrewdly, sitting up to capture
his gaze.
 
Nick looked away then back again. "I'm happy too, Amelia," he admitted
quietly after a few minutes of silence. She raised a perfectly arched
eyebrow. "Truly. It's weird. But this 'punishment' has been the most
profound experience in my life."
 
Amelia sat back on the lounge, letting his soft husky voice flow over
her senses as she listened to him talk.
 
"For the first time in my life, I feel like I'm doing something that's
worthwhile; something that matters. It's made a man out of me, Amelia.
It's hard to put into words," he paused, "but it's changed the person I
was, the person I would have grown to be." He looked at her, his eyes an
intense blue.
 
The air crackled between them. Amelia nodded slowly. Nick *had* changed.
And that was a little scary.
 
Nick looked away first, and glanced down at his watch: 10:25. "It's
getting late, Amelia. I'm due in court tomorrow morning," he said,
gathering up his jacket and briefcase.
 
"Of course," she replied, standing up slowly and following him to the door.
 
"Thanks for dinner," he told her, as he folded his coat over his arm.
 
"You can repay the favour tomorrow," she replied with a laugh. "I'll
drop by the office tomorrow at 6. I don't want you two Fallins burning
the midnight oil on my last day in Pittsburgh."
 
"Will do, Amelia." Before he could lose his nerve, Nick leaned down and
kissed her cheek. "Goodnight," he whispered, before turning around and
heading toward the elevator.
 
Amelia shut the door behind her and leaned heavily on it. She lifted a
hand to the spot that tingled on her cheek. "Goodnight, Nick," she
whispered back.
 
 
 
PART 3
 
 
 
Nick idly twirled his pasta around his fork, the soft golden light of
the candles casting dancing shadows across his face. He had been silent
for most of the meal, allowing Amelia the upper hand in their
conversation but, now, he seemed to have completely zoned out, lost in
his own thoughts.
 
Amelia herself trailed off, taking advantage of his inattentiveness to
stare at the clear masculine beauty of the man sitting across from her.
Neatly cut curly golden blonde hair, smooth tanned skin, beautiful
intense blue eyes, impossibly long and dense eyelashes and a sinful
mouth – neither too thick nor thin, just right.
 
Her gaze swept down his strong golden throat, where his pulse throbbed
strongly against the collar of his light blue shirt. Down past his broad
chest, cursing the table between them for blocking the rest of him –
trim waist, long legs, *big* feet. She blushed. She was like a hormonal
teenager!
 
Yet she could not stop her wandering eye – across the linen tablecloth
where his elbows sat, up the smooth navy jacket to his beautiful hands,
with their long slender fingers and neatly cut nails. Hands she found
herself fantasizing about roving her naked skin – she was amazed at how
she had never noticed how beautiful his hands were before.
 
Her gaze swept back to his face and she noticed the slight furrow
between his brows. Whatever Nick was thinking about didn’t appear to be
very pleasant. She cleared her throat. Nick’s eyes snapped up and he
immediately knew that he had missed something. More like *everything*.
 
“What was that?” he asked, finally laying his fork down and abandoning
any pretense of eating.
 
Amelia cocked an eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything.” She paused and set
down her own fork. “What’s on your mind Nick?” she asked, sitting back.
 
The furrow deepened but he didn’t bother to deny it. He paused, and
heaved a heavy sigh. “Have you ever had one of those days when you just
feel like screaming at the world?”
 
Amelia smirked. “In my former line of work – practically every other
day. Nothing can get you worked up more than a bunch of overzealous
know-it-all college kids.”
 
Nicholas smiled mirthfully. “But you liked it,” he pointed out.
 
Amelia frowned but, “Yes, I did,” she admitted.
 
“I don’t.”
 
“What, you don’t like the overzealous know-it-all college kids?”
 
The smile was more genuine this time if a little forced. “This world –
*my* world,” he clarified.
 
“What about it?” she asked taking a deep sip of her wine.
 
Nick’s blue eyes found hers, swirling like fathomless green pools in the
candlelight. Concern swam along with genuine interest as she looked at
him from behind the rim of her glass. Usually so close-mouthed with
people, Nick found his tongue loosening as the night drew on. He found
himself recounting his day: court at nine where he defended yet another
corporate CEO from a sexual harassment case, and got him off while, less
than three hours later, yet another innocent child was railroaded by the
same system that dismissed the harassment case on a mere technicality.
 
He was a man straddling two totally different worlds. He had thought he
was able to handle them both accordingly: his job at Fallin and
Associates was his life, his top priority; his community service at CLSP
was just what it was – a service to be rendered then moved on from. But
there were days like these when he was disgusted with what he did for
the corporate world, and his heart bled for the defenseless. But he
would have to choose. He could not straddle the line forever. Amelia
told him as such.
 
“You have to choose, Nick,” she advised.
 
They had consumed far too much wine and too little food and Nick thought
he had heard wrong. “What?”
 
“Choose, Nick. Choose what world you want to live in.”
 
“What the hell do you mean? Fallin and Associates is my world. I’m a
corporate lawyer, Amelia. It’s what I do.”
 
Amelia paused, chewing on his words thoughtfully. “It’s what you *did*,
Nick,” she finally replied. “But things have changed, haven’t they?
You’ve seen the dark, cold cruel world on your own time and not from a
conference room for once. You have to decide whether when your time is
up at CLSP if you want to continue or, if you want to continue to sell
your soul for the corporate world.”
 
Amelia had never been so melodramatic… he knew she would not try to sway
him with poetic words… she would always be straight with him. She had
always been, even when he was a kid – it was one of the many things that
endeared her to him. He took another sip of his wine, his mind was foggy
but he mulled over her words the best he could. The obvious and most
logical answer would be to stay at Fallin and Associates where there was
security and surety and he most certainly would *not* be selling his
soul and his ethics to the corporate giants. But the idealistic part of
him – the part of him that had driven him on so many occasions to put
his head on the chopping block for CLSP – screamed at him to continue
what he had started – on a path to self-discovery, of peace.
 
Nick shook his head and roughly wiped his face. “I dunno, Amelia. I just
don’t know. I can’t think right now.”
 
“Then don’t. It’ll come to you, Nick. I know you’ll do what you think is
right in the end.”
 
**’what you think is right’. Not, ‘what is right’** “Thanks,” he
replied, a slight half-smile on his face.
 
“You’re welcome,” she replied, her gaze colliding with his.
 
The air sizzled between them. Amelia could feel the heat pooling low in
her stomach as she looked across at him. They didn’t say anything for
long moments but they didn’t look away either. It became a battle of
wills of sort, each wondering who would look away first. Amelia could
feel a flush crawling up her neck to her face, and she dropped her gaze
first, clearing her throat awkwardly.
 
The noise shattered the moment, and Nick looked away, a sly little smile
on his face. He recognized that look in her eyes. He had unnerved her.
If he were any other man, he would have taken full advantage of the
knowledge that she was attracted to him. But he wouldn’t. This was not
just any woman. This was *Amelia*.
 
As Nick turned away for her to signal for the waiter lurking in the
corner, she earnestly tried not to notice that his pulse was throbbing
more erratically than before. She smirked. She had unnerved him as well.
It was nice to know she hadn’t lost her touch.
 
*~*~*~*~*~*
 
The ride back to her hotel was silent and uneventful. Nick kept his full
attention on the road, and Amelia dozed lightly in the seat, a
combination of her illness and too much wine tiring her out. As they
sped along the freeway, Nick tried his hardest not to notice how
innocent she looked in her sleep, her sinfully long and decadent lashes
forming crescents on the tops of her cheeks. Unwillingly, his gaze
dropped to her mouth, and he couldn’t stop himself from wondering what
it would be like to kiss her, to touch her. He jerked his gaze away and
back to the road, narrowly avoiding running into the back of a cruising
minivan.
 
Amelia sighed and turned on her side to face the door, the little sound
sending fire to his stomach, and leaving him with a disarming view of
her long back and backside. Nick swallowed heavily and, away from his
gaze, Amelia grinned devilishly.
 
When Nick finally pulled the car up outside the hotel lobby, he gently
shook her awake and Amelia, who had fallen asleep truthfully about five
minutes ago, snapped open her eyes reluctantly.
 
“We’re here,” he announced.
 
Amelia nodded and sat up, straightening her clothes as best she could.
 
“Do you want me to come up with you?” he asked.
 
Amelia paused. The words were uttered in complete innocence, she knew,
but she could see the innuendo in them. He was probably only inquiring
about her safety considering she was sleepy and more than a little
tipsy. She was tempted to say ‘yes’ just so she could stay in his
company a little longer, but she shook her head, knowing that if she had
accepted, she would probably wind up doing something to embarrass them
both. “No. I’m fine,” she replied, turning her head to face him.
 
“What time is your flight tomorrow?” he asked, regretting that she would
have to leave.
 
“I’m taking the seven o’clock shuttle to JFK.”
 
He nodded his head and just then, a valet knocked on the window. Nick
rolled down the window, “Yes?” he asked.
 
“Are you coming or going, sir?” he asked with infinite politeness. “You
can’t stay here, sir.”
 
Nick nodded his head and rolled the window back up when the valet
stepped away. “Have a safe flight,” he wished her.
 
“Thank you,” she replied softly. Before she lost her nerve she leaned
across and kissed his cheek, lingering a little longer than necessary,
taking the time to memorise how his skin felt, and how good he smelt
before she pulled away. “I’ll call you when I get to New York,” she
announced, reaching for the door handle and fumbling in her haste.
 
Nick nodded his head and smiled as she got out and turned to face him.
She returned his smile as she looked at him, while with every fibre of
her being she just wanted to jump back in and tell him to drive.
Preferably back to his apartment. She shut the door a little more
forcibly than necessary and gathering her coat around her, headed toward
the lobby.
 
Nick stayed there watching her a little longer, wishing he’d had the
guts to tell the valet to park the damn car and follow her to her room.
But of course he didn’t. And cursing himself for what an honourable
bastard he could be at the most inopportune times, hit the gas and drove
out of the lobby before the valet could beg him to move again.
 
 
 
PART 4
 
 
 
That night, Nick lay awake well after one a.m. He could hear the
rustling and whisper of the wind through the leaves of the trees, the whistling 
croak of a frog, the buzz of the mosquitoes. He could smell the imminent rain in 
the atmosphere, taste the cold. It was one of those nights when you wished you 
weren't alone – that you had that special someone to share it with; to kiss and 
cuddle; to make love with till you both couldn't move in your exhaustion. But 
yet again, like so many dark, cold nights before it, he was alone.
 
But God probably knows he didn't have to be. He was a *man*. He
recognized the signs. There was no mistaking that unsure yet hungry look in 
Amelia's eyes. She wanted him. If he had leaned across the gearshift like his 
libido had been screaming for him to do, he would have captured her lips with 
his own. Yet, only God again probably knew what would have happened next. Would 
she have sighed in acquiesce, hugged him as close as she could and then beg him 
in that husky bedroom voice of her to come upstairs to her room? Or would she 
had allowed him only a few precious seconds of the honeyed sweetness of her 
mouth before pulling away in disgust or worse, regret?
 
Nick sighed in frustration and turned onto his side, watching the inky
darkness of nighttime Pittsburgh. **What would have happened?**
 
God only knows.
 
*~*~*~*~*~*
 
**If Nick Fallin had kissed me for real, what would I have done?** Amelia sat 
curled in the chaise lounge in the Penthouse suite. She knew she should be 
sleeping – her flight was at seven later that morning, meaning she had to be at 
the airport by five a.m. But the question weighed heavily on her mind.
 
She found herself too aware and far too appreciative of Nicholas Fallin.
And she didn't quite understand why. They had not spent an excessive amount of 
time alone together, exchanged any intimate moments… well… *many* intimate 
moments, right? So what was it? What was it about him that had her awake after 
one in the morning clutching a mug of lukewarm herbal tea?
 
Her head dipped back to meet the warm plush pillows of the chair, and a
smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as her mind showed her just what about 
him she liked. His intense blue eyes; cherubic blonde curls, smooth tanned 
golden skin; large, beautiful hands that he talked with; lean athletic body – 
albeit constantly covered in somber suit and tie. But she had endured enough 
Fallin Memorial Day barbeques to know he had a body like a twenty-year-old 
swimmer.
 
Amelia frowned and set her mug on the coffee table. She was acting like a 
twenty-year-old herself. She wanted to talk to him… wondered what he was doing 
right now. Was he wide-awake thinking about her? She glanced at the ornate 
vintage phone on the table beside her. **Nah!**she thought looking away. He was 
probably firmly entrenched in a dream about being trapped on a deserted island 
with the woman of his dreams – a busty twenty-six-year-old that looked a lot 
like Madeline Skinner. Amelia giggled. Did Nick even like busty blondes?
 
She tried to remember what he was like when he was younger – tall, gangly and 
fifteen years old when she first met him, home for the summer holidays from 
boarding school, still reeling from his mother's death, though he was an expert 
at disguise, angry at the world and especially angry at his father.
 
**He was so jumpy around Freddy** she remembered with a frown. He would
literally circle them like a wary cat. Freddie thought it was hilarious at the 
time, and was always poking fun at Nick or Cousin Nicky as he so 
'affectionately' called him. Amelia just pitied him – so withdrawn, angry yet 
polite. He was a bundle of clashes. Yet he was always so polite to her. For days 
on end, she would be the only person he would talk to and, though she knew he 
knew she accompanied him wherever simply because she felt sorry for him, he 
never said anything.
 
The next summer, he turned sixteen, and she and Freddie had gotten
married, May 23rd, 1988. they had come back for the Memorial Day Barbeque as 
usual, but Nick was not there half the time in the 2 weeks they had stayed in 
Pittsburgh. How could they have known Nick was drowning his sorrows in booze and 
drugs and had lost his virginity to the promiscuous daughter of a judge in the 
back of her Mustang? She hadn't known because she hadn't cared. She was too 
wrapped up in being the new Mrs. Frederick Fallin.
 
Amelia frowned and shook her head clear of her thoughts. She didn't want
to think of young Nick anymore. She would much rather dwell on the present. She 
heaved herself up and slowly padded back to the bedroom, unable to keep from 
thinking: **What kind of person would Nick have been today if I hadn't been so 
wrapped up in that bastard so long ago?**
 
She glanced at the phone again and, gingerly standing up, made her way
to bed. God only knows.
 
*~*~*~*~*~*
 
New York City, 11:30 a.m.
 
Amelia's flight had touched down at JFK an hour ago and, as a first-class 
passenger, she had been one of the first off the plane and into Customs. As 
expected, she had gotten no trouble from the officials who checked her luggage 
and wished her a good day and twenty minutes later, Frank her driver was shoving 
her bags into the boot and assisting her into the back of her limo.
 
Amelia tried not to think of how tired she was – she had gotten less than three 
hours sleep the night before – and refused to close her eyes as the sleek black 
car made its way through the busy streets of the city. When Frank had finally 
pulled up outside her beloved brownstone townhouse, she hadn't even waited for 
him to open the door for her but instead, bounded up the stairs as quickly as 
she could.
 
As the familiar scents of vanilla and gardenia greeted her nose, Amelia took a 
moment to savour it. Frank, who had quietly come up behind her spoke. "It's good 
to be back home isn't it, Mrs. Sachs-Fallin?"
 
Amelia nodded and smiled. "It sure is."
 
Just then, the pair heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall. "Amelia is that 
you?"
 
Amelia grinned as the familiar voice of Audrey, her beloved housekeeper, greeted 
her ears.
 
"It's me, Audrey. I'm home!"
 
Audrey squealed and wrapped Amelia in a big hug.
 
Amelia laughed as she hugged the matronly woman back. The scent of cinnamon and 
flour wafting from her ample bosom. "Gosh, Audrey. You would think I've been 
gone for a year instead of four days!" she exclaimed stepping away.
 
Audrey pshawed. "Oh, come on honey. It seemed more like four years."
 
"Did you miss me?"
 
Audrey rolled her eyes. "No I didn't."
 
Amelia and Frank burst out laughing. "Sure," she replied sarcastically.
 The two made their way to the huge ranch style kitchen where Audrey set the 
kettle on the stove and took out two mugs to make them some tea.
 
"So how'd it go?" she asked, watching as Amelia shrugged off her jacket.
 
Amelia didn't even pretend not to know what the older woman was talking about. 
Audrey was more than just a housekeeper or a cook. She was a trusted confidante 
and friend; a mother figure for a motherless girl. " I asked Nicholas to draw up 
the papers."
 
Audrey's eyebrows shot up. "Nick?"
 
Amelia nodded.
 
"Why Nick?" she asked, hoisting herself onto a breakfast barstool.
 
Amelia shrugged. "I dunno. I just did." She paused. "I didn't think it mattered. 
Once it's one of them, you know?"
 
"I guess," Audrey replied, chewing her thoughts over. "So what did he say?"
 
"Say?"
 
"Yes. What did he say about the divorce? I mean, was he shocked?"
 
Amelia exhaled sharply. "Of course he was shocked. They both were," she replied, 
referring to both Burton and Nick. "It took a bit of convincing to get Nick to 
take the case but he did, eventually."
 
"Convincing? Like what?"
 
"I had to tell him the truth."
 
"What? That his cousin's an ass?"
 
Amelia chuckled. "That he already knew, I'm sure. I'm talking about the affair. 
About the fact that Freddie hasn't spent a night here in seven months, that's 
what."
 
The water boiled and the kettle started to whistle. Audrey got off her stool and 
brewed them a nice strong cup of breakfast tea. She placed a fresh batch of 
apple-cinnamon muffins on the bar and Amelia bit into one with relish, enjoying 
the way the soft apple and cinnamon melted in her mouth.
 
"So what now?" asked Audrey as she started in on her second muffin.
 
"I dunno. We wait I suppose. Nick said he can have the papers drawn up by next 
week and Fed-Ex them here for me to look over before he sends them to Freddie. 
If Freddie has no objections, the divorce will be final in six months time."
 
"Six months?!" exclaimed Audrey, nearly choking on a sip of tea. "You're joshing 
me, right?"
 
Amelia shook her head. "I wish I were."
 
"Why do you have to wait so long?"
 
Amelia rolled her eyes. "Some bullshit rule about giving both parties an 
opportunity to change their minds." She sighed and polished off her muffin. 
"Like that'll ever happen."
 
The two lapsed into companionable silence. Frank came back downstairs and Audrey 
handed him a muffin.
 
"Do you need anything else, Mrs. Sachs-Fallin?" he asked, as he wolfed down the 
pastry.
 
Amelia shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I'm going to go upstairs. I'm a little 
tired."
 
She pretended not to see the concerned exchange between the driver and 
housekeeper as she slowly made her way up the sweeping ornate marble and 
wrought-iron staircase. At the entrance to the huge master bedroom she paused as 
she looked at the gigantic king-sized bed in which she had slept with Freddie 
for the thirteen years that they had owned the house and in which she had slept 
in cold and alone for the past seven months.
 
She could feel hot tears pricking the back of her eyes and she rapidly blinked 
them away. She refused to cry anymore. She heard soft footsteps coming up behind 
her in the hall.
 
Audrey rested a heavy yet gentle hand on her shoulder. "You gonna be okay, 
honey?" she asked, concern swimming in her dark eyes.
 
Amelia nodded and smiled wanly. "I'll be fine, Audrey. I'll be just fine."
 
*~*~*~*~*~*
 
Pittsburgh, 8:15 p.m.
 
After yet another tough day at the office, Nick finally dragged himself over the 
threshold of his apartment. He was dog tired and would've liked nothing better 
than to grab a beer and a shower and sleep for at least eight hours. That of 
course was out of the question – he had a ton of reports to finish and he was 
due in court the next afternoon. Plus, he needed to get started on Amelia's 
divorce papers.
 
**Amelia** Nick couldn't help but smile at her name. He wondered what he was up 
to. He shook that thought out of his mind. It was none of his business. He threw 
his coat and briefcase onto his couch and realized that his answering machine 
light was flashing. He hit play. The first was from Annette reminding him that 
he had a nine o'clock conference call with a client the next morning.
 
The second was from Amelia.
 
He had been in the process of loosening his tie but he paused as her voice, 
distorted by the mechanics, flooded the room:
 
"Hey, Nick, this is Amelia. I'm calling you from New York. I tried reaching you 
at the office but your secretary told me you were in court all day. I know that 
you're gonna be very busy but I just wanted you to know that I got home safe. 
Ah… so gimme a call when you can. We can talk more then."
 
The machine beeped as she terminated the call. Nick stared at the phone, her 
final words reverberating in his mind: **Gimme a call…** He purposely ignored 
the 'when you can' part, and picked up the telephone.
 
It was well after eleven when Nick finally forced himself to say goodbye. He 
stared at the reports he had been planning to finish but instead snuggled deeper 
into his couch. He'd get up later and finish them. He was only gonna close his 
eyes for a little while. Five minutes!
 
 
 
Of course Nick didn't wake till his watch alarmed seven a.m. Goddamn he
was in trouble!
 
 
 
PART 5
 
 
 
Pittsburgh (3 months later)
 
As was the norm in recent months, Nick sat in the solitary dimness of his 
apartment, briefs and reports spread out before him, a forgotten beer growing 
tepid on its coaster by his elbow. He had barely taken the time to reheat 
himself last night's dinner after the courier service had delivered him yet 
another batch of documents at eight p.m.
 
That was three hours ago. But he didn't realize the time. He was too engrossed 
in hammering out the deal – crossing his T's and dotting his I's – for yet 
another big-wigged company to notice anything as insignificant as time passing 
by.
 
He was desperately trying not to think of *her* - Amelia. She who invaded his 
every waking and sleeping dream, whose voice was constantly on his mind. Whose 
lips he constantly ached to taste. Whose rock in the past three months, he had 
been for her to constantly cling to after her divorce papers had been delivered 
three months ago.
 
He tried not to think of that day when he had personally flown to New York to 
deliver the papers to Freddie. He had not called to say he was coming, so 
neither Freddie not Amelia knew he was coming. Instead, he had waited patiently 
for his cousin to see him, seated by the infamous Ms. Skinner herself.
 
When Freddie had finally deigned to see him, what followed had not been pretty – 
a typical explosion of the Fallin temper – name calling, cussing, threatening… 
classic. As usual around Cousin Freddie, he lost his temper and was not much of 
a help to Amelia.
 
When he finally paid a visit to the brownstone later that day (after he had 
gotten his temper under strict control again, of course), she had taken it all 
in stride, although she had been unable to look him in the eye when he told her 
that indeed Freddie had seemed all too happy to accept the papers. She was so 
strong it awed him – how could this woman, who had devoted the better part of 
sixteen years of her life to a man wholly undeserving of it, be so cool and so 
collected in the face of the dissolution of her marriage?
 
To this day he still didn't know; couldn't come to close to comprehension. She 
was still an enigma, no matter how close they had gotten in the past three 
months – and she was still attractive as hell!
 
Nick groaned and gave up the pretense of concentrating on work. He took a sip of 
his warm beer and grimaced at the bitter taste. He glanced at his watch and 
rubbed his face in fatigue – it was after 11. **Might as well try to get some 
semblance of sleep. Court bright and early tomorrow morning. Whoop-ti-doo!** he 
thought sarcastically, rising from his chair.
 
It was raining out, he realized as he trashed the beer bottle and the remains of 
his Chinese take-away dinner. For a few seconds, he stared mesmerized at the 
crystalline raindrops falling like tears from the sky. He was so engrossed, he 
only absentmindedly realized that someone was pounding the hell out of his front 
door.
 
**What the hell?** he mused wondering who the heck would be pounding on his door 
at this time of the night. He yanked the door open and stared. She stared back 
at him. Raindrops sluicing down her face and plastering her dark hair to her 
skull. Her clothes were soaked and she was breathing hard. Although she was 
completely wet, he could tell she was crying. She stared at his surprised face 
like a woman on a mission. Stepping directly into his personal space, she 
watched his blue eyes widen before she slipped a cold hand behind his neck and 
brought his lips down to meet hers.
 
Nick was frozen in shock before his body's instinctive reaction took over and he 
dragged her closer to him, deepening the kiss in the process. Of their own 
accord his hands slipped under the wet wool of her sweatshirt, stroking the cool 
smooth skin beneath. She bucked in his arms, her pelvis rubbing against groin as 
his fingers encountered a sensitive spot in the small of her back.
 
"Nick," she sighed, breaking the kiss and tilting her had back to give his 
better access to the smooth column of her throat.
 
Nick looked up, his blue eyes smoky with desire. "Are you sure?"
 
Amelia meet his gaze, her eyes equally smoky and desirous. Her silence was his 
answer.
 
Ever so gently, Nick scooped her up in his arms and kicked the door shut behind 
him. He quickly padded down the length of the hallway to his bedroom before 
gently depositing her in the middle of the crisp cotton sheets on his bed. He 
took the time to stare at her, sitting up on her elbows, her wet hair spread out 
on the sheets. He said nothing.
 
"Touch me…" she commanded softly, never breaking eye contact. "Touch me, Nick," 
she repeated. "I'm not going to break."
 
Reverently he stepped forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Slowly he 
kissed her eyes, cheeks, ears and finally her mouth before he reached for the 
hem of the sweatshirt and lifted it over her head. The white t-shirt that lay 
beneath soon followed until the top half of her body was clothed only in a lacy 
black brassiere. His breath hitched as he took in her small firm breasts 
straining against the cups, her skin a luscious ivory against the stark black. 
She lifted her hips and let him slide the track bottoms past her hips, reveling 
in the aroused glint in his eyes as he took in the matching bikini bottoms. Next 
came her socks and her shoes until she lay clad in nothing but her skimpy 
underwear.
 
Goose pimples started to dot her skin and he cursed himself for his 
inconsideration. Leaving her, he quickly returned with a towel and lifting her, 
up he rapidly rubbed the towel into her skin, drying and warming her as best he 
could, until her surprisingly strong grip fell on his wrist indicating he could 
finish warm her up with his body. He took the deep kiss and playful nip against 
his throat as his invitation to undress.
 
Never breaking her gaze, he pulled the white t-shirt over his head, reveling in 
the feminine appreciation of the defined muscles of his stomach and biceps 
rippling beneath the smooth golden skin. He was barefooted already, so he slowly 
unbuckled his belt wincing at the metallic rasp of his zipper in the room where 
only the sound of the rain outside and Amelia's shallow breathing could be 
heard. His pants joined his shirt, until he was standing before her, clad only 
in white Calvin Klein boxer-briefs, his erection highly evident. He went to slip 
them off himself but her thumbs, hooking into the waistband halted him.
 
Nick's stomach muscles contracted as she pressed a kiss just below his navel and 
swirled her tongue in the delectable little whorl before slowly sliding them 
past his hips. As they dropped to his feet, she stared at the object of her 
fascination before her gaze slid up to his eyes, enjoying the boyish 
embarrassment in their depths.
 
Hooking her fingers in his, she lay back inviting him to follow. He meant to 
kiss every single part of her body, revel in each moan, each breath, each 
squirm, but Amelia had no such ideas.
 
"Nick…" she moaned breathlessly as his tongue swirled around her nipple. "Now. I 
need you now."
 
The look in her eyes – desperate and wanting – left no room for argument. She 
didn't even allow him reinforcement from the trusty but dusty box of condoms in 
his top drawer, instead pulled him up and into her body.
 
Nick groaned at the sensation of being inside her. It was like coming home – 
warm and wet and oh so tight. He couldn't control himself – it was as though he 
was that gangly fifteen-year-old boy she'd met seventeen years ago. Gritting his 
teeth, he slowly pulled back, moaning in pleasure at the damp grip of her inner 
muscles. Her breath hitched and he eyes practically rolled back in her head she 
wrapped her legs around his lean hips. Over and over, they moved together and 
they both lost themselves to each other that night as Nick guided them toward 
Nirvana. And when Amelia came, with Nick's name on her lips, he wasn't very far 
behind, groaning her name as he lost control, barely remembering not to tell 
her, "I love you."
 
 
 
 
 
PART 6
 
 
 
 
 
The rain continued to pound away outside. Inside, only the muffled din of it 
striking the exterior walls and windows could be heard as Nick and Amelia 
remained cocooned in their own world, nude bodies nestled against one another 
like spoons. Fascinated by the smooth warm skin of her shoulder, Nick softly 
skimmed her fingers over the flesh, watching as the muscles bunched under his 
touch, enjoying her little shiver of pleasure as he pressed his lips to the 
crook her shoulder.
 
"Why are you here?" he asked, tucking a tangled lock of damp hair behind her 
ear.
 
Amelia inhaled shakily and turned onto her back until she looked up into his 
eyes. Concern and curiosity swirled in the sapphire depths. For long seconds she 
said nothing as he waited expectantly. "I have wasted twenty years of my life," 
she answered cryptically.
 
Confusion knotted his brow.
 
"Children," she softly whispered in reply to his unasked question. Amelia 
gathered the sheets closer around her body and sat up, leaning her head back 
against the headboard. "When I was younger, I always thought that I had all the 
time in the world. I'd just met Freddie… we were madly in love… I thought we 
would be together forever. It didn't matter – we would wait a while before 
starting a family. Then we all know what happened next….
 
"When I came here three months ago to ask you to handle my divorce, I paid a 
visit to a specialist… for women trying to have children with Myasthenia 
Gravis."
 
"What do you mean, Amelia?"
 
Amelia swallowed. "My doctor in New York *told* Freddie and I the reason
I couldn't conceive was because I had MG… I never bothered to get a second 
opinion, Nick. If only I had…" she sobbed. "The reason I couldn't conceive 
wasn't because I had MG… it was because of Freddie! I wasted the last eight 
years of my life, Nick… eight fucking years…. Now, nature's proven that she can 
be an even bigger bitch and the reason I can't conceive is because my body is a 
hostile environment… I'd kill any child of mine before it had a chance to live!"
 
Nick didn't quite know what to do or say, so he kept quiet as she continued to 
speak.
 
"I got back the results a week ago. I called Freddie. Do you know what that 
bastard told me when he finally deigned to see me? That he'd known. He'd known 
that he had a low sperm count for ten years. It's so fucking bizarre it would 
have been funny if he hadn't always made it known to me that I was a 
disappointment to him because I couldn't have children."
 
The anger rose in Nicholas. "Freddie's a bastard Amelia."
 
"Believe me, I know. But it still hurt so bad because I never wanted to 
disappoint the man I loved."
 
"He doesn't deserve your love, Amelia. He never did. You're too good for him."
 
"And you think you deserve it, Nick… my love?"
 
Nick didn't answer. It wouldn't pay to lie – he knew that she knew he'd always 
harbored a schoolboy's infatuation towards him. "Maybe… but you're too good for 
me, too," he finally replied.
 
Amelia's liquid green eyes held his in the dark. "I think you've got it all 
backward, Nicholas Fallin. *You're* too good for me."
 
He stroked her cheek even as he gripped her hips and slid into her again, 
enjoying the way her eyes fluttered at the pleasure. "I guess we'll have to 
agree to disagree then, won't we?"
 
Amelia chuckled shakily. "This won't be easy, you know, Nick," she said soberly.
 
He didn't even pretend to not know what she was talking about. "I know."
 
"I mean, I'm ten years older than you... I'm not even a whole woman."
 
Nick stopped thrusting at that. "First off, Amelia, your age never mattered to 
me. It shouldn't matter to you either. You never gave a damn what people thought 
before, why should you start now? Secondly, I've *never* seen you as anything 
but whole." He kissed her hair.
 
"Then I guess we're back to the agreeing to disagree thing, aren't we?"
 
"I guess so.... I've never been one to lay it out on the table, you know that. I 
just know that this feels right. For once in my life, something's good."
 
Amelia's bottom lip trembled and she lifted her head to kiss him softly.
"It can't last forever, Nick. Not for us...."
 
He started to move again, sliding his body slowly into hers. "Then, I'll take 
what I can."
 
 
 
PART 7
 
 
 
Six months passed and while Nick and Amelia's relationship grew stronger, she 
steadily grew weaker as her body began to shut down on her. The dreaded day soon 
came when her legs failed her and she was unable to stand up, the signal of her 
plight a heavy thud on Nick's bedroom floor and his pounding steps into the 
bedroom to find you sprawled on the floor.
 
His heart stopped as he stood frozen in the doorway, his blue eyes filled with 
concern and anxiety even as Amelia whimpered in pain before he flew into action, 
clinically running his hands over her limbs to check for any injuries.
 
She'd fractured her wrist and had a badly twisted ankle, but she was no worse 
for the wear, but her pride surfaced at her doctor's suggestion that she take to 
using the wheelchair. They both knew what that meant – the end was soon upon her 
– and neither thought they could handle the truth.
 
As Nick drove back to his apartment through the steady Pittsburgh traffic, 
Amelia turned to look at his profile. His face remained stoic and the timbre of 
his voice was completely controlled as he parceled out his cases to the other 
associates back at the office. She knew he was trying to remain strong for her 
and it was killing her to know he felt such pain but was so adept at hiding it. 
He was so adept at hiding things, he was great at it – brilliant in fact – she 
didn't want that to be the case.
 
Nick gallantly swept her into his arms and carried her up the stairs of the 
apartment and set her in the middle of the sleep-rumpled sheets of their bed. It 
suddenly struck him that he never referred to anything he owned as his anymore; 
it was all *theirs* - their apartment, their couch, their bathroom, their 
bedroom, their bed.
 
It would all soon be *his* again, and it was heartbreaking.
 
Reverently, Nicholas traced the soft plane of her cheek with his fingers. Amelia 
turned her head and pressed a soft kiss to his palm even as the hot tears 
pricked at her eyes. He made to move away, to head down the hall to his at-home 
office, but the suddenly strong grip of her hand on his arm stopped him.
 
"Wait," she whispered.
 
Nick turned to her, curiosity in his sapphire blue eyes.
 
"Make love to me, Nick," she requested.
 
His eyes widened at her request.
 
Amelia started to flush in embarrassment at his silence, the self-doubt surging 
to the surface. She moved to retract her request when Nick suddenly fell to his 
knees before her, bringing his arms around the ribbon of her waist and burying 
his face in her chest.
 
The tears started to fall before either of them could stop them. Amelia's body 
shook as she held the man who had given her back her life; who had shown and 
given her more love in the past six months (maybe seventeen years) than she'd 
ever known in her entire life. She cried at the thought of, having found 
something so good, so right, she would have to leave it and leave him.
 
Nick cried at the thought that in a time, very soon from now, he wouldn't be 
able to touch, taste or smell her. To hear her call his name when they made 
love, or when she requested something of her, to hear her sigh in her sleep as 
she fused her body as close to his as possible. He cried and cursed God or 
whoever was responsible for this for the cruelty they had dealt her. For the 
cruelty they had dealt *him*. For him to have happiness again, only to have it 
ripped from him.
 
Amelia lifted his head from her chest and gazed into his eyes. The shiny blue 
orbs were swimming in tears. He looked so heartbroken.
 
Her own green pools were tear-filled, and her cheeks and nose were red from the 
sobbing, but never had there been a dearer face to him.
 
Amelia dipped her head and captured his lips with hers, reveling in the 
sensation that instantly erupted. His palm lifted to cup her cheek, his thumb 
wiping away the remnants of her tears even as he angled his head and deepened 
the kiss, seeking her tongue with his own and, when given permission, plunging 
into the deep wet sweet recesses of her mouth to plunder for what seemed and may 
indeed be, the very last time.
 
They didn't know who moved first but, before long, they were both naked between 
the sheets of their bed, Nick gallantly keeping his weight off her body with his 
elbows. He lay deeply embedded within her, his length loving gripped by her 
walls. His hands cupped her face as their eyes never wavered and he stroked her 
cheeks, memorizing each plane, each angle, each hollow of herbody, each sigh, 
every groan, every moaan, every shudder and tremble each touch as, with hidden 
strength, she lifted her arms and legs and wrapped them around Nick's lean hips 
as he steadily thrust into her, trying to draw out this pleasure as long as 
possible. When the light hit her as if she'd been knocked into a wall, she cried 
out his name, sobbing her love for him even as he pressed his forehead to hers 
and started to climax like never before, each shudder a delicious aftershock 
that rendered him limbless.
 
In the waning afternoon of that late fall day, he knew that the final chapter 
was over. Nick held on as long as he could, kissing and nibbling every part of 
her body, feeling his own gearing up for another round until finally, exhaustion 
beckoned Amelia and with a final weakly whispered, "I love you…" she drifted off 
to sleep.
 
Six days later, she was dead, eight days before her birthday. She'd stopped 
breathing in her sleep, fused to his body as usual, and he had known when she'd 
passed, holding and rocking her body in his arms with a keening cry as he seemed 
he would never let go.
 
The funeral was enormous. So many people had known and loved Amelia. So many had 
known of her suffering, so many were glad that it was over at long last; that 
she was at peace. But not Nick. He was overcome with a selfish grief, cursing 
the heavens for having taken her away.
 
Nick sat in the front pew by the gravesite, the flower-strewn maple coffin in 
direct view – white roses and lilies – so fucking depressing, he felt like 
ripping them from the coffin. Burton sat to his left, Audrey and Frank to his 
right. She was holding Nick's hand even as Frank kept his arm around her ample 
waist and she sobbed in grief. Most of her past students were there, her 
colleagues, childhood and neighborhood friends. He'd even spotted Freddie 
somewhere in the back, Ms. Skinner notably absent. He'd caught Nick's eye but 
he'd turned away unable to look at the man who, up until three months ago, had 
the right to call Amelia his.  The priest started the graveside prayers, but 
Nick was numb, stuck in his chair even as the rest of the congregation recited 
the prayer:
 
*~*Let light perpetual shine upon them, oh Lord And may their souls and all the 
souls of the faithful departed, rest in peace.*~*
 
Audrey stood to say the eulogy – Nick couldn't bring himself to say anything – 
and not an eye was left dry. Nick clasped her to him as he swallowed the knot of 
sorrow in his throat, keeping the stoic manner even as his body ached to scream 
and rail at the injustice of it all.
 
Everyone soon left, patting him on the back, whispering condolences as he 
mechanically nodded and Burton uttered words of thanks. Audrey and Frank 
traveled with Burton back to the Fallin house where they would accept yet more 
condolences and accept typical offerings of food and allow the others to stay 
for a while. And only when the last footstep had died away did he cast himself 
on his knees by the graveside burying his head in his arms, memories of the past 
beautiful nine months flying past his mind at breakneck speed, and wailed for 
the one he had lost.
 
*~*~*~*~*~*
 
Three years later
 
"It's a girl!" came the joyful announcement of the doctor. He carefully cut the 
umbilical cord of the red screaming infant even as Nick brushed back the 
dampened strands of hair from his wife's face.
 
Lulu was crying, even as she laughed with joy and she grasped his hand as he 
pressed a shaky kiss to her forehead.
 
The smiling nurse came over, the tiny bundle of joy, moderately clean and 
wrapped in a pink blanket, squirming in her arms. "Would Daddy like to hold his 
little girl?" she asked, even as she handed over the baby.
 
Nick accepted the bundle and the feeling that washed over him was phenomenal. 
She was red and wrinkled, odd looking with the typical blue eyes of a newborn 
baby, but she was the most beautiful thing he'd set eyes on.  Lulu cooed as Nick 
held the baby in the crook of his arm and leaned over so she could inspect their 
daughter. She marveled at her size, at her ten fingers, ten toes, her button 
nose… everything. Nick was mesmerized, captivated by the tiny infant.
 
"Have you thought about a name yet?" asked the nurse, smiling at the scene.
 
Lulu opened her mouth to say no they hadn't but Nick cut her off saying
emphatically, "Amelia. Her name is *Amelia*."
 
Lulu frowned a little but nodded in understanding, her eyes riveted to her 
husband's and the nurse smiled. "That's a beautiful choice."
 
**Yes, it is. Hello darling… hello my little Amelia.**
 
THE END