The Celebration
 
Author: Erica
 
Email: ericaphile@hotmail.com
 
Rating: R
 
Summary: A celebration after Antarctica
 
Author's note: This story is an offshoot of what is now known of David 
Hollander's 4th season plans for Nick.  Nick angst all the way.  Thanks to Sarah 
Hughes for her suggestions.
 
--+--
 
September 2005
 
Nick shuddered and gasped as a powerful orgasm overtook him.  He slumped over 
Meghan for a second as her own rapid breathing subsided.  
 
"Hey, Nick," Meghan moaned as they drew apart.  She kissed him gratefully and he 

returned her post coital affection.  
 
"Got to take care of this," Nick muttered as he peeled off the condom and threw 
it into the bedside wastebasket.  He then allowed Meghan to cuddle up against 
him and he absently stroked her arm as she fell asleep on his chest.  
 
They'd known each other for six months and they just went on an all out date 
last night.  First a Friday night play, then a late dinner before he took her 
home.  Things have been improving between them lately as they got to know each 
other better.  Their lovemaking, for example, had been quite good.  She was 
passionate and even surprised him from time to time with her ingenuity.  He, on 
the other hand, kept trying to please her.  This was the first woman in his life 
who merited surprise gifts, so much so that he was now a regular at Tiffany's.  
 
She stayed over last night after dinner and this was their third round, on this 
Saturday morning.  Quite a record for him at thirty-five, Nick thought.  He 
turned his head to the bedside clock, which read half-past seven.  He extricated 
himself from Meghan's arms; for some reason, he was very much awake despite all 
the sex. 
 
He padded to the bathroom then took a shower, getting the water as hot as he 
could stand then when he was near finished, he forced himself to stand under the 
blast of frigid water.  By the time he stepped out of the shower, his skin was 
in goose bumps and his mind was alert.  Nick put on his bathrobe and went back 
to the adjoining bedroom where he turned on the television, careful to keep the 
volume on low as Meghan slumbered on.  The bright light streaming through the 
window promised a sunny Saturday.  
 
The telephone rang and Nick was able to pick up before the first ring ended.  
Meghan still hadn't stirred.
 
"Hello."
 
"Nick, is that you?  It's Catherine."
 
Nick frowned as he recognized her voice.  He glanced once more at his sleeping 
girlfriend, and then walked out of the bedroom, so he could take the call in the 

hallway without disturbing her.  
 
"Yes, Catherine?" Nick asked.  
 
"You know Burton's birthday is next week.  His birthday party will be at 
Riverbrook and it would mean the world to him if you'll be there.  I haven't 
told him I called you; I'd like you to be a surprise.  It'll be on Saturday, 
Nick, so you could take a flight out here on Saturday morning or Friday 
evening."  
 
"Aahh…I'm not sure of my schedule…" Nick replied automatically.  
 
"Please, Nick," Catherine warmly persuaded him. "He'll want you there.  Let me 
know by Monday if you can go home."
 
"Yeah," Nick mumbled as she hung up.  
 
Nick grimly switched off the cordless phone.  He ran a hand through his damp 
hair, mentally going through his own schedule if he were free this weekend.  And 
the most important question was of course whether he was willing to spend the 
weekend there.  He shook his head then went back to the bedroom where he found 
Meghan drowsily watching the television.
 
"Sorry, if the television woke you," Nick said.
 
"It's all right, Nick.  Come here." She patted the empty spot on the bed beside 
her and Nick surprisingly complied.  Meghan kissed his hand when he sat down by 
her reclined figure; he returned the phone to the cradle at his nightstand then 
they watched television for a few minutes.  For once, she and Nick didn't have 
pressing appointments for this Saturday and they lazed in bed.  One of the great 
things about Meghan was she didn't ask who called.  All the other girls he'd had 
relationships with would have wanted to know whom he'd talked to, but Meghan 
continued to switch the channels and finally settled on a morning cooking show.  
 
Nick was the one who couldn't keep Catherine's call to himself.
 
"My stepmother called," Nick murmured during a commercial break.
 
"Is your father all right?" Meghan said, sitting up from her nest of pillows.  
"Nothing's wrong, is there?"
 
"No, Dad's fine.  It's his birthday next week, and she's throwing a party and 
she wants me there."  
 
"You call her back and tell her you'll be there," Meghan insisted.  "Last night, 
you said you're free next weekend.  The Paris meeting was postponed, you said."
 
"Will you come with me?" The words were out of his mouth before he knew it.  
Now, why did he say that?
 
"Nick!" She protested in exasperation.  "It's the charity ball and I've been 
working on this for ages.  But you don't have to be at the Plaza, I'd be too 
busy anyway and, besides, you have to see your family, too. When was the last 
time you were back home?"  She got up from the bed and kissed his cheek before 
she headed for the bathroom.
 
But they're not my family, Nick thought as his lips set in a grim line.  
 
He shed his bathrobe and proceeded to get dressed as he watched the morning news.  
He then went to the kitchen where he started the coffeemaker and put 
out the yogurt and fruit for Meghan.
 
--+--
 
He was on the plane circling Pittsburgh by Saturday morning.  Meghan didn't nag 
him to return to Pittsburgh.  She never mentioned Dad's birthday party again.  
Instead, Nick found himself thinking about it and made the call to Catherine by 
Monday morning.  So here he was about to set foot on Pittsburgh, more than 
twenty months since he'd last been here.
 
Nick worked in McNeil and Hurley after that debacle at F&F, then at LSP for a 
very brief time. Walter McNeil was a fair and just man, telling Nick that when 
Nick was hired, they knew he still had loose ends with LSP and his probation.  
Nick's stress all added up at that time in his life and Anne's birth compounded 
the situation.  So they didn't accept his resignation and reinstated him.
 
Just when his probation was completely free and clear, Dad met Catherine and 
before Nick knew it, he was standing as his dad's best man.  
 
It was a time of great ambivalence for Nick when Dad remarried; however, he 
could see that Catherine really was a wonderful woman for his father.  Each time 
he saw Dad, he could see how Burton was finally really happy in his personal 
life; quite late, in fact, but as they said, better late than never.  Then out 
of the blue, McNeil and Hurley assigned him to its New York subsidiary once Nick 
was free to leave Pittsburgh.  They said Nick's contacts in New York were 
invaluable to the firm.  
 
Nick didn't even need soul-searching when he was assigned to New York.  To his 
astonishment, after the personal difficulties he experienced in Pittsburgh, he 
found he was ready for New York.  He literally flourished in the cutthroat 
world; where people skills were not as important as the raw business savvy of 
the impersonal world of the big city.  Like a lot of the natives, Nick sought a 
good therapist and within a short time, he even surprised himself when the lure 
of cocaine and too much drinking finally died down to a whisper.  Because he did 
so well, Nick was pirated by Winegardner, Banks and Jensen.
 
His world had gone beyond Pittsburgh, literally; Nick found himself embroiled in 
the intricacies of complex international transactions, the kind of work 
Winegardner, Banks and Jensen had a reputation for.  He made regular business 
trips to the world's financial capitals, occasionally with Meghan in tow.  As an 
international corporate attorney, he was under more pressure than anything he'd 
ever done in Swann and Cranston, F&F and McNeil and Hurley, but Nick thrived.  
 
In the one year he'd been with Winegardner, Banks and Jensen, Nick found Meghan, 
moved into a TriBeCa condo and was slowly filling it with tasteful objets d'art 
from his trips abroad.  True, he was still an associate, a few years older than 
most of the associates of the firm, but at the rate he was going, the latest 
office buzz was Nick would be made partner in a few months' time.
 
If he was now such a man of the world, why were his insides churning at the 
prospect of landing in Pittsburgh?  
 
Nick hooked a finger into the collar of his Thomas Pink shirt, unable to ignore 
the choking sensation.  He casually checked the seatback in front of him, eyeing 
the airsickness bag in case he needed it.  He closed his eyes and forced himself 
to breathe deeply and slowly.  He blew out the air from his lungs, puffing his 
cheeks like a blowfish.  Then he opened his eyes again and felt slightly better. 

The plane continued with its descent and Nick preoccupied himself with popping 
his eardrums at the change in air pressures.  Normally, air turbulence wouldn't 
have bothered him, considering how much flying he'd been doing this past year, 
but he was white knuckled as he gripped the armrests.  
 
Nick's anxiety made him unaware of the plane's smooth landing.  Maybe it was a 
bad idea to go back home.
 
He exited the plane and was able to get his rental within half an hour.  He 
drove to the hotel, getting a glimpse of the changes that happened to the city 
since he'd left.  He checked into his room and once he'd washed up, he called 
Meghan on his cell phone.
 
"Hey, I'm here at room 702."  Calling her after arriving at every destination 
had been a habit since they'd been together.  "How's everything?"
 
"Busy!" Meghan complained good-naturedly.  "Last minute details…"
 
"Okay, you better get a lot of donations after all the work you've done," Nick 
encouraged her.  "I…love you."
 
What was wrong with him?  Meghan was silent on the other end as well, probably 
as astounded as he was.
 
"Oh, Nick, I love you, too."  Meghan laughed awkwardly.  "But I really have to 
go."
 
"Go ahead, get back to whatever you need to do."
 
Nick hung up then scratched the back of his head in puzzlement.  Why'd he use 
the L word with her?  He vowed never, ever to be the first one to say it, 
especially after what happened with Lulu.  But Meghan had said it right back to 
him and not like she was disdainful or angry.  More like she was surprised in a 
very good way.  
 
Nick put on his jacket then went down to his rental car.  He drove by the Frick; 
it was hard not taking a good look at the building.  He spent almost eight years 
of his life there; he couldn't just ignore it.  Then he drove through the 
familiar streets, savoring the easy driving.  He barely drove in New York, where 
taking the subway or cabs were the norm.  
 
He stopped by the florist and bought two bunches of white roses.  The roses' 
aroma filled the car as he drove to the cemetery.  He visited his mother's and 
baby Anne's graves, side by side in death, even if the baby's headstone was Anne 
Archer instead of Fallin.  Lulu had conceded that one last request, that Anne be 
buried beside her Fallin grandmother.  
 
Like a few Downs' syndrome babies, Anne's insides were found to be incorrectly 
developed on the third day of life and underwent three surgeries before she 
finally succumbed at one month of age.  Nick came to his senses after Anne's 
death, getting a clear picture of Lulu's underlying rejection of him despite all 
the efforts he poured into their relationship. She'd never truly forgiven him after
his betrayal. 
 
Nick spent a few minutes mentally talking to his mother as he stood in front of 
her gravestone before he walked away.  Only later would he remember that his 
silent conversation consisted mainly of telling her what Meghan was like.  
 
--+--
 
The private function room at the club was festooned with birthday decorations.  
By the time Nick arrived, there were a lot of people there, some of them 
complete strangers.  Burton's new circle of friends.  A lot of new friends, Nick 
noted, courtesy of Catherine.  What Nick couldn't get over was the number of 
little kids in the mix of people, Catherine's grandchildren, his father's new 
family.  
 
Catherine found him and steered him to a surprised Burton.  They shook hands 
like they always did.  Dad was wearing glasses now, but despite that, he looked 
very well, quite trim and younger looking, considering that it had been more 
than a year since Nick last saw him.  Nick would have wanted to say much more, 
but Burton was accosted by a rowdy bunch of senior citizens and was soon swept 
into another crowd.  
 
Nick stayed with club soda.  In New York, he would have indulged in tequila, but 
in this town, in this particular social set, he'd always be the druggie son who 
was kicked out of the family firm for fouling up in a big way. The coked-up son 
who had a hooker go comatose in his own house.  The probationer son who couldn't 
even get his pregnant girlfriend to say yes to his marriage proposal.  
 
Nick shook his head in an attempt to drive away the negative putdowns with which 
he'd labeled himself.  A few hours in Pittsburgh and he'd regressed to the old 
way of thinking about himself, the kind of thinking he'd spent thousands of 
dollars trying to get rid of with the help of his therapist 
 
"Hey, Nick."
 
He turned and found himself face to face with a blonde teenager.  His brow 
furrowed then his eyes widened with recognition.
 
"Shannon?"
 
"Hi!" Shannon said.  "Burton has a new wife; she found me at my new foster 
home."
 
"Where do you live now?" Nick knew she had been swallowed up by the system after 
Dad's adoption didn't push through.  Last Nick heard, Shannon's biological 
father was convicted of murder and he was in the penitentiary.  
 
"In Monroeville.  It's okay, a foster home.  I'm not as messed up anymore."  She 
grinned irreverently.  "Burton's 72, huh?"
 
Nick nodded then his gaze wandered to where Burton stood at the other end of the 
function room.  His bit back a gasp when he found his father give the Golden Boy 
a brief hug.  
 
The Golden Boy.  His stepbrother, the transplant surgeon.  Jack, who'd saved 
countless lives on a daily basis, the light of his mother Catherine's eyes and 
now Burton's.  Nick bet Jack has never once seen a speck of cocaine in his life, 
all six-two of him.  Jack was someone who wouldn't know what to do with a 
probation officer, except offer him free surgery if he needed it.  Maybe Jack 
was a virgin, waiting for the right virginal girl to marry, not someone who 
knocks up a girl then has an affair with another.
 
Jack said something to Burton who laughed uproariously at a witticism.  Then 
Burton clapped Jack on the back, steered him to Landsburgh, and introductions 
were made.
 
Nick turned away, but Shannon had seen his reaction to the hug exchanged between 
Burton and Jack.  
 
"Welcome to the reject pile," Shannon whispered.  Nick shot her a venomous look, 
but he swallowed the hard truth of her statement.  Someone's rambunctious kid 
knocked into Nick just at that moment and his drink spilled right onto his 
blazer.  Nick cursed then left to go look for a restroom.
 
--+--
 
The evening was a test of Nick's endurance of being marginally sociable.  
Burton's birthday party was a family gathering, which was something more foreign 
to Nick than Scotch haggis, the monkey dance in Bali or Peruvian roasted guinea 
pigs.  Family gatherings were not a Fallin thing.  Until lately, it was clear 
now to Nick.
 
At the dinner, he was seated beside the Golden Girl, Catherine's daughter Emily 
and her husband, the Golden In-Law.  Emily was the one responsible for 
continuing the gene pool, having four kids, all of whom apparently had endeared 
themselves to Burton.  From her, Nick learned there was a standing invitation 
for any of the grandchildren to stay over Burton's house on weekends.  Burton 
finally found a better deal than Shannon: gently raised suburban step 
grandchildren who provided hours of fun without the weird biologic father, 
sleazy photographs and shoplifting.  
 
Nick stayed as clammed up as he can with Catherine's side of relatives and 
friends and the few from Dad's side of…well, friends, he sounded like a broken 
record by the end of the party, saying the same thing over and over: yeah, I 
moved back to New York, I now work for Winegardner, Banks and Jensen, legal 
stuff, yeah; no, I'm not married yet, blah blah.  What he really wanted to say 
was, can't you see I don’t have a wedding ring, you idiot.
 
If his stepsiblings were the Golden Boy and Golden Girl, he knew what he was.  
The Bad Seed.  
 
--+--
 
When all the plates were taken away, and before the candles on Burton's cake 
were lit, the Golden Boy made a dramatic exit when his cell phone rang.  Someone 
had a fatal smashup on the highway and a liver was available for 
transplantation.  Jack left the room with impressed murmurs from the other 
guests.  Shannon's foster parents dropped by to pick her up a few minutes after 
Burton blew out his birthday candles.  She made a gracious exit, giving Burton a 
genuine hug of affection.  Slices of cake were consumed then out came the after 
dinner drinks.  Nick had none of that, staying with plain water in his glass.  
When the senior citizens around Burton's table were starting to get rowdy (well, 
as rowdy as smashed senior citizens could get), Nick felt it was time to leave.
 
He wished he hadn't come.  With the big crowd, he and Burton exchanged a 
whopping three sentences.  He said appropriate goodbyes, feeling the yawning 
chasm, the empty feeling inside him as he made his way through the corridors of 
the Riverbrook.  When he thought his weekend couldn't get any worse, he spied 
Jake Straka's baldhead in the distance.  
 
Nick couldn't duck into any room because there were none where he was.  He hoped 
he couldn't be seen, but his head was a beacon in the dark paneled corridors of 
the club; the same thing always used to happen at boarding school: his blond 
hair against the dark wood was an easy target.  Jake's fake smile lit his face 
and Nick steeled himself for more fakery from his brown nosed former colleague.  
 
"Nicholas!"
 
"Dad?"  
 
Burton was rapidly trying to catch up to him in the long corridor.  Fortunately, 
they were nearer to each other than Jake, whose approach was halted when he saw 
them together.
 
"Sorry about that," Burton clapped a hand over his son's shoulder.  He steered 
Nick away from Jake, who received a forbidding look from his old boss. They 
passed by Jake without incident completely ignoring him.  "Catherine, you 
know…she likes parties…and, uh, she has a lot of friends and family."
 
He clasped Nick's arms at arms length.  "You look very good, son.  New York 
agrees with you."
 
Nick nodded.  "You look very well, too, Dad…Uh...how are your eyes?"
 
"I'm okay. Hurley says you go around the world practically every month.  Maybe 
you should check out from the hotel and spend the rest of the weekend at home.  
Whadda you say?"
 
Nick shook his head.  Burton's home wasn't Nick's since a long time ago.  His 
old room still had Shannon's frilly furniture, which Catherine's eldest 
granddaughter used when she stayed over.  The other guest room had been 
converted into a bunkroom, with twin beds for the other grandkids.  "I'm leaving 
early tomorrow, Dad.  My flight's at 6am.  You know how it is these days, you 
have to be checked in an hour before the flight."
 
"Well, then, I'll call…"  Burton humphed then ran a hand at the back of his head 
helplessly, letting go of Nick's arm in the process.  "Son…well…see you, 
uh…soon."
 
"Yeah, Dad, good-bye.  See you soon…go back to your party.  They'll start 
looking for you." Nick's throat tightened and he walked away.  As he exited the 
glass doors, he watched as Burton's reflection receded as his father returned to 
his party.
 
That night Nick couldn't sleep. He attributed his insomnia to being in a strange 
hotel, completely forgetting that staying in hotels was his new way of life and 
shouldn't be the reason why he stayed awake despite his early flight.   By four 
in the morning, he'd already returned his rental car and was at the airport 
gate.  He dozed in the lounge and continued his nap on the short hop home.  
 
He was refreshed by the time he landed.  The traveling throng didn't bug him the 
way it normally did on weekdays when he was on business trips.  He exited the 
gates and headed for the taxis. 
 
"Nick!"  Meghan's beautiful face smiled at him near the exit.  
 
Nick smiled back, kissed her then hugged her in the midst of the crowd.  
 
"I can't breathe," she complained, drawing away from him.  This public display 
of affection was totally unlike him.
 
He released her and grinned goofily.  She chattered about the charity ball last 
night, giving him a blow-by-blow account of the backstage foul ups she had to 
fix.  He marveled at her, taking in every animated expression as they waited in 
line at the taxi stand.  Then he started to think of his mom's wedding ring in 
his locked desk drawer at home.
 
THE END