An Axe to Grind 
 
Author: Eileen Thomson


Email: indigotoast@yahoo.com


Rated R
 
Summary: A client with a grievance


Author's Notes: For working miracles on this one, thanks girls.

--+-- 

Raising his arm, Nick opens one eye and glances at his watch. Almost
midnight. Opening a drawer, he removes a photograph of himself and
his mother. Gently dusting the edge with his finger, he lies back in
his chair with his feet on the desk.

"How did my life get this bad?" he wonders aloud. Looking at the
photo and speaking to his mother he whispers, "When did I come to
the point where I would rather sit in the office doing nothing than
go home? Did I do something wrong? Was Lulu always this shrew and
was I so blinded by what I wanted that I never saw it?" He stretches
out his body like a big cat, and then relaxing he returns to his
musings. "How quickly the small things I found so endearing have
become the most annoying habits. I hate her one-sided smile, showing
that bloody dimple. It is always followed be some hurtful remark.
Did she always do this?"

Nick forces his mind back and sees Lulu in the office at LSP when
she first kissed his cheek. "God, Mom, I wanted her then so badly,
but her next words were to tell me about Brian. Why was I so stupid?
I sit here and I want to go home to an empty house, I want some
peace from her incessant mood swings, from her neediness. Two weeks
now until the baby is born, my baby. Will I be able to cope with
this? Mom, will I be man enough to stand by her and the baby? I hate
the thought of being with her forever, but the baby will always need
my support. I dread each new set of issues Lulu will undoubtedly
bring when it is born."

The phone's strident ring draws him from his reverie. He knows Lulu
is on the other end and wonders momentarily what would happen if he
just ignored it. Shaking his head in defeat Nick picks up, "Nicholas
Fallin," he says formally.

"Where are you? Is someone there with you?" Lulu keeps talking, and
talking. "When are you thinking about coming home?"

"Lulu, you phoned the office. I answered. Therefore I'm in the
office. Why must you think that someone is here?" Nick's tone is
terse and cold. The slam of the phone in his ear makes Nick wince.
Picking up the photo he looks lovingly at his Mother. He smiles
mischievously, "See what happens when no-one is here to watch over
me?" Holding the picture close to his chest, deep in thought, he
sinks into a light slumber.

He starts awake and glancing at his watch again, he is surprised to
see it is after one o'clock. He sighs and pulls himself
lethargically out of the chair. "I wish you could give me guidance
with this, Mom. I really am lost and I don't know how to fix it. I
don't know if I really want it fixed at all." He picks up his
briefcase and coat and dejectedly makes his way to his new and very
unhappy life.

~*~

The parking lot is almost empty of cars and Nick's feet echo in the
cavernous area, making an eerie soulful sound. He suddenly stops. Is
someone over at his car? In the darkest area, it's hard to tell, the
lighting is not great at this time of night. *Hell, Nick now you're
seeing things!* but he checks to see if someone is behind the car in
the dark black corner just the same. Every nerve is pulled taut,
and, feeling he is being watched, he turns quickly round to look
towards the car hidden by the last pillar. He sees nothing to alarm
him. He presses the button to deactivate the alarm and raises the
trunk to put in his briefcase.

The distinctive slide of an automatic pistol being pulled back roots
him to the spot.

Nick feels the cold barrel touch his neck almost gently. His stomach
does a back flip and fear ripples down the length of his body.
Trying to sound calm, he keeps his voice quiet and even. He puts his
hands far out to the side and says, "Take what you want."

"I want your life, Mr. Fallin." The soft voice drips poison into his
soul.

*A woman! What have I ever done to a woman to deserve this?* "Do I
know you? Can I turn round?" Nick is perplexed at the woman's cold,
callous tone.

"Face front, move towards the passenger door," she orders

When they are beside the car door Nick tries to see in the wing
mirror who has a gun to his head, but she stays close to his back
and his view is obscured. His heart thunders against his chest and
he can hear nothing for the roaring of it in his ears. *Calm down,
calm down,* he tells himself over and over. *Find out what she
wants. Don't panic or you could make the situation worse.* Nausea
flows in waves over his conscious thoughts.

"Open the door," she orders. As Nick opens the front door she opens
the back. "Now get in and climb over the shift stick. Keep your
head down." She taps his head with the gun, "Don't worry, I'll give
you time to guess who I am. First clue. You gave my son away. There
does that help?"

Nick pauses before going into the car, "How do I know that is a real
gun?" Even as he asks the question he knows he shouldn't have
spoken.

With her hand tightly gripping his collar, the gun roars in his ears
as she casually fires into the parking lot's sand filled fire
bucket. "Happy now? Mr. Fallin what I have here is a semi- automatic
pistol. It fires fourteen bullets. I don't even have to aim in this
small area. All I have to do is keep my finger on the trigger and it
will keep firing, I'm sure I'll hit something. I'm hoping all
thirteen will get you. Slide over, and don't move too quickly. You
don't want to die here do you?"

Her voice becomes vague and Nick knows he may not be able to talk
this woman down from wherever she is. The thought that he will die
tonight fills him with fear and regrets. *My baby. Oh God, who will
look after my baby? Will Lulu cope by herself? Will it look like me
or her, I wonder. It would be nice to see it before I die.
Concentrate Nick. The only way out is to listen and pick at her
reasoning. Be calm and think, that is your forte. Now do it.*

"I like the idea of you lying in a great pool of blood, inside your
fancy car. Will you be missed? I don't care, but I hope there is
someone to mourn you. I want your family to hurt." The woman rambles
on without needing anyone to answer.

Nick sits quite still, his hands gripping hard to the steering
wheel. "I don't take children from their mothers. The court does
that. Whatever you think, I had nothing to do with the loss of your
son. I am primarily a guardian. It's my job to ensure that a child
receives support and I give advice to them. I help them understand
their options." He tries to make his case sound as reasonable as he
can. He must find a way past her hate to the place where she hides
her sanity.

"I know what you do, Mr. Fallin. When my son got you as his lawyer I
thought we had struck it lucky. But here I am, without my son. You
gave him to his father." She taps the back of his head again with
the gun for emphasis. "That was your solution."

"You have to tell me who you are. Don't tell me I'm going to die and
then not let me know what for. Maybe I can help you. Let me try to
help you, please." It takes every effort Nick has to keep the
tremble out of his voice, every fiber of his being not to plead with
her.

"Drive Mr. Fallin, let's go where you want to die. Show me where
your heart is and take me to the last thing on earth you want to
look at."

~*~

As they leave the parking lot another car enters. *Why couldn't you
have come earlier?* Nick thinks, *you may have been able to stop
this.* Turning left down Grant St, Nick pauses to look for the last
time at the Bridge of Sighs. Stopping at the traffic lights, he
signals to turn left to go home. *I don't want to die in front of my
house.* Swerving in front of the cars on his right, he makes an
illegal turn and heads towards the route which will take him to the
Smithfield Bridge.

"Made up your mind where we're going?" his captor quips casually.

"Tell me something about your son?" *If I can get her to talk about
her son I may even recognize him. Just try to keep talking. Keep her
thinking about her boy and not me. Try to keep her off balance.*

"Too easy, Mr. Fallin. That will never do." The woman in the back
seat moves forward and whispers, "You interfere too much. When was
the last time you did more than was needed? That's what you should
think about."

Coming up to the intersection at Grant Street, a cop car pulls up
beside them. Nick moves to give the officers inside it some sign but
the woman just laughs.

"Go for it Mr. Fallin, I'm going to die by cop tonight anyway. Only
you get to choose where. You want to die here? That's all right with
me."

Nick sits back in the seat and tries to relax. He turns onto
Smithfield Street and then crosses the bridge. He knows there is
only one place where he wants to be, one place in this town, where
peace finds him every time he visits.

"How old is your boy? How long ago was I his lawyer?" Bringing the
conversation back to the boy Nick feels is the best way to find out
the cause of this woman's hate.

"I haven't seen him for over a year…"

"More than a year!" Nick interrupts. "God, woman, do you know how
many cases I see from LSP in a year? You have to tell me what this
is really about, and then maybe I can help you get him back." His
mind swirls in dismay, *A whole year! I'll never remember him. I can
barely remember the ones I dealt with last week. So many broken
children and the parents all blame the lawyers. They never stop and
think that they are lousy parents!*

Nick wipes the sweat beading on his forehead. *I'll never know if I
would have been a lousy father. I'll never see my child.* Depression
swirls round in his heart and Nick forces himself back to the
present and the woman in the car. "I'll listen to you and give you
the best advice I can." The words fall from his mouth syrup coated
while his thoughts run at a very different point of view. *I'd lie
to my back teeth if I thought you would believe me, but somehow I
feel you have looked at this from all angles and I have been the one
to come up wanting.*

Nick looks in his mirror and thinks he sees a car trailing far
behind him. *Imagination! That is just wishful thinking.* He angles
his head to try and see the woman in the back of the car but she is
hunched down and he catches a glimpse of her long brown hair as they
pass a street light.

They turn onto Carson Street and Nick drives under the Fort Pitt
Bridge. The woman sits up and pushes him in the head roughly with
the gun. "I don't want to shoot you here, Fallin. Where are we
going?"

He drives faster now, almost eager to get to the spot. *I wished for
some peace, now it seems the kind I'll get is everlasting.*

"Almost there," he tells her, "I'm almost there now." Driving until
he sees the sign for The Duquesne Incline he turns and drives up to
the parking lot. He throws himself out of the car, followed at speed
by the irate woman.

"Stop now," she shouts following at speed. Then she laughs as she
sees where they are. "Are you going to jump? I would still shoot you
on the way down."

"Tell me who you are or shut the hell up." Nick stands holding fast
to the railing. "If these are my last moments on this earth I don't
want to spend them listening to some fool woman with a twisted sense
of humor." He waits for some reply, "Tell me who you are."

As the woman starts to talk about the birth of her son, Nick looks
up at the full moon. The clouds are myriads of wispy ghost dancers
skittering across its surface. He blinks and lets his misty eyes
fall down to rake over the sight which stirs him to his core. The
Duquesne Bridge and the three sisters, the 6th 7th and the 9th
Street Bridges, are brightly lit in the clear night. The waves toss
the moonlight to each other as the traffic on the river glides by.
No sound reaches them and Nick can only imagine the noise made by
the river craft. Tranquility seeps into his soul and Nick feels the
pull of his city again. Gazing left, he watches the fountain for
several moments, its beauty unsurpassed in the whole of America. He
leans forward and the Fort Pitt Bridge comes into his line of
vision. Farther along he can just make out the Smithfield Street
Bridge. Pittsburgh. His town. His one love. This view, this splendor
never lets him down. This is where he wants to die. Refreshed with
love, he pulls himself back to what the woman is saying in time to
catch some thing which does not make sense.

"Wait. Who was sick?"

"What do you care? Your best effort put him with his father.

Recognition comes in a flash and Nick whirls round, anger leeching
from his every pore. "You're Summer Neal!" Pointing a trembling
finger at her he shouts, "This is your fault, not mine. You got into
a fight and were not offered early parole. I couldn't leave him
there. He should never have been put in the Riley Centre. He was way
too bright. When Laurie Solt stood in court and said that there were
five children in wheelchairs and another twenty with mental
retardation there, we all knew we were doing him a disservice." His
fury consumes him. "I worried that I had done some thing to hurt you
or your child and now I find the fault lies at your feet alone. Why
do you blame me?" he seethes.

She brings up the gun and levels it at his head. "You gave him to
his father!"

"Gerry left you while you were in jail. Derek and Emily Johnson were
the only ones visiting him. Lawrence asked to be placed with them."
*Calm down Nick,* he thinks, *this is not helping. She is distraught
and you know she loves her son. Be reasonable, try to reach out, and
try to be kind.* "Summer, he tried to kill himself. I had your
lawyer write and tell you this. You know the reasons he had to get
out of the Riley Centre." Nick puts his hand down to his sides and,
softening his voice, he asks, "Why are you doing this?"

"They won't give him back to me." Her racking sobs crack the ice
surrounding his heart. "They won't give him back, will they? Don't
lie to me or I'll shoot you now. Tell me."

Nick knows that he should not even discuss his client with her, but
he sees no way out of the situation. She has lowered the gun, though
it is still quite steady in her grasp. He thinks there may be a
chance to talk her out of this action after all.

"Summer, why would you want to move him just now? You have nowhere
to take him. You know all the ins and outs of neurofibromatosis, you
know his situation. He's living where money is no object and all his
needs are met." Nick puts his hands in his pockets and feels for his
cell phone. "Derek and Emily cleared out their formal dining room to
make a special place for Lawrence. They fitted a bathroom for him.
No one ever has to haul him out of his chair when he needs the
toilet. He can be independent. His uncle runs a basketball team and
Lawrence is working alongside him to try out for that. Dave, his
uncle, gave him one of the latest sports wheelchairs."

Nick watches as she lowers the gun, but she keeps it held in both
hands just under her coat. "Summer, why don't you come to LSP
tomorrow and speak to Alvin? I'll get in touch with Lawrence and
Derek and we will try to work out visiting rights for you."

"He's mine, you bastard! Don't you understand I don't want to share
him?" She paces back and forth like a demented dog tied to a
leash. "Right from the start, you encouraged Derek to give him
things. I wasn't even in jail yet when he left a Play Station game
at the Riley Centre for him."

"That was me," Nick interrupts, speaking quietly. "I'm sorry,
Summer, I thought you knew. I watched you and Gerry leave and then
put it on top of his things. I felt bad. I felt I had let him down."
Nick hangs his head. "Summer, I thought it would keep him sane until
you were released from prison. He was never going to manage there
for two years that was plain to see. After just a few months I knew
something had to be done he was going crazy." Rubbing his face with
both hands Nick continues. "I have to stand by my advice to
Lawrence. He was better off with his father."

"A lawyer with a heart, what's the word for that?" she wipes her arm
over her wet eyes. "Come on smart lawyer."

"Oxymoron," Nick grins. "But you know I did what was right at the
time." *I think I may even live to look at this view again.* His
heart leaps with hope and joy. *Maybe I'll see my kid after all.*

They both start as the lights from a car driving into the parking
lot blinds them. *Lulu, God what is she doing here?* Nick then knows
that the car he imagined following was in fact Lulu. *Why the hell
was she at the office at this time of night?*
 
"Summer, let me take care of this. Please, it's just my girlfriend.
I'll tell her to go away and let us be alone." Nick babbles in his
anxiety to convince her to let Lulu go, but it's too late. Lulu is
getting out of the car and she is furious.

"Is this where you spend your time?" she shouts at Nick. "Up on the
Incline with a hooker? Did you and Brian share this one?" Lulu
starts to walk towards Nick, her fists curled into tight balls. Her
voice, strident and cruel, taunts them both.

Nick backs away, trying to put space between Lulu and the gun.
Trying to calm her, he raises his hands in supplication. "Get back
in the car and go home Lulu," he pleads quietly. "This is something
I have to fix. Please go home. Please Lulu, I'm begging you, this is
not what you think. Just go back into the car and I'll explain
everything when I get home, I promise." Nick, who has kept his fear
hidden, now feels the shiver running down his back. He knows Lulu
when she is in swing. She is unstoppable, overemotional, and
completely unforgiving.

"Tell her I'm not a prostitute." Summer's low voice carries all the
menace Nick thought he had erased. Lulu's arrival has undone all the
progress he has made. "Tell her now!"

Nick can see Summer's hand tighten on the gun still held under her
coat. The slight tremor in her arms has him shaking in fear. Her
state of mind has reverted back to being as unstable as before, and
Nick just wants Lulu to go and let him return to the tenuous
negotiations.

"Lulu, this is Summer Neal, do you remember her? I dealt with her
son Lawrence. She is just out of prison, and we are deciding what
the best way forward is from this point." Nick voice pleads with her
to listen to him and take heed of what he is really saying. He looks
at her face, frozen in disgust, and knows nothing will get through
her stubborn brain. She is in righteous mode and nothing will move
her or change her mind. *God help me. I don't know what to do.* He
moves slowly, trying to get between Summer and Lulu, fearing that
the situation is now so volatile it could explode at any moment.

Lulu stands, her hands covering her swollen stomach, her lips
curled into a snarl of condescending superiority. "I remember her
and I see what she is doing. I'll make sure she never sees her son
again. I am witness to the fact she is *still* a prostitute. I'll
call Laurie Solt and make sure she hears what I say." She turns to
Summer, all the spite of a spurned woman in her voice. "Listen to me
you slut, I promise you will never see your son again."

Nick barely has time to register the gun moving. He watches in
horror as the look of fear pass over Lulu's face when she notices
for the first time that Summer is armed. Moving fast, he tries to
reach Summer before the unstable woman has time to shoot. The gun
rises from her side, steady and deadly. Nick feels the bile rise in
his throat. He knows he will not reach her in time. As he moves he
cries out, "Summer, no, don't do this." He hears her fire and turns
to see Lulu bounce back from the railings. Changing direction, Nick
rushes to Lulu's side and, pulling out his cell, he tries to call
for help. His hands are shaking too much to dial, and he puts the
phone down to feel for a pulse instead. It's there, but the pulse is
thin and reedy.

"Push the phone to me," Summer weeps at the sight of the pregnant
woman lying on the ground before her. "Give me it and I'll call for
help."

Nick glances up to see the gun still pointed at him, but she is
shaking so much, he fears she will kill them both. "Put the gun down
now Summer, it's all over." Nick rocks back and forth on his
knees. "Oh God, look! What have you done? How could you shoot a
pregnant woman?" His voice is dry with unshed tears and unbridled
terror of the event unfolding.

"Push the damn phone to me and do something until help gets here.
Stop the bleeding. Anything. For God's sake, do something! Stop
sitting there, and help her."

Nick pushes the phone to her and unbuttons Lulu's shirt. Her left
side is bleeding profusely and he takes off his jacket and shirt.
Using his shirt, he puts pressure on the wound. As he is about to
tilt her head he notices the curious bump on her neck. He leaves it
and shouts to get Summers attention. "Summer, I think her neck is
broken, what should I do? Her breathing is very ragged. Summer!"
Nick raises his voice again to get her to look towards him. "Tell
them, and ask them what I should do."

He can't understand why Lulu won't breathe properly. The wheezing
air goes in and out with a rasping sound as if something is lodged
in her throat. *I don't know what I'm doing. What if I do something
wrong and kill the baby? What if I touch Lulu and make things worse?
* His hands are clammy and he feels a sickness to the pit of his
stomach. Leaving Summer to deal with the emergency services, Nick
concentrates his efforts on getting the bleeding to stop. His shirt
is saturated now with Lulu's blood, and he wants to cry out at the
unfairness of this night. He kneels instead, applying pressure,
praying for guidance. He rubs her belly and feels his baby move
inside her. She shows no sign of knowing he is there and he is
grateful she feels no pain. *Hurry, hurry!* He silently pleads for
the emergency services to get there and relieve him of the terrible
responsibility.

Summer is now hysterical and paces as she rants. She has the cell in
her hand and is telling whoever is at the other end that she has
shot a pregnant woman. As Nick continues placing pressure on the
massive wound, he hears her tell the listener that she had intended
to shoot him, but the wife got in the way. She throws the phone on
the ground and says, "All taped now. No one can blame you. I won't
kill you, Mr. Fallin." She weeps at the devastation she has
caused. "I never meant this to happen. She should never have called
me a prostitute." She wipes her wet eyes with her sleeve. "Please,
you have to promise to look after Lawrence. Did you hear me, the
call will have been taped and I told them what happened. Answer me,
goddamn you! Will you look after Lawrence?

Nick speaks between choking, ragged breaths, "I would look after him
with or without you, he is my charge and I am his guardian."

Sirens scream their way towards them and Nick welcomes the sight of
the ambulance and the two cop cars coming into the parking lot.

"Stand away from the girl." The order comes from the first cop on
the scene as he stands behind the door of his car.

"Summer, drop the gun and we'll get through this together." Nick
pleads with her, "Let the paramedics attend to Lulu, please."

"Tell Lawrence I love him." Summer turns quickly and shoots in the
general direction of the cars. Three shots answer in rapid
succession and she falls to the ground.

The silence is overwhelming. Suddenly there is frenetic movement as
help arrives and Nick is pushed to one side. The paramedics move
quickly and put a brace on Lulu's neck and back and lift her into
the ambulance. Nick tries to get in with them but they close the
door. He hears one say `flatline' and then he knows Lulu is gone.
Has he lost his baby too?" Police run and move the gun out of
Summer's reach. She now lies in a pool of darkening blood.

Nick staggers to the edge of the railings. All his reasoning has
deserted him and insanity pulls at his mind. *So much pain. So much
death. Had got Lulu killed? No! Why didn't she shut up when he asked
her to? She had a brilliant mind, why did it have to be so closed
all the time? I was fixing it, Lulu, I had it sorted. This is not my
fault.* His thoughts scream out at the unfairness of it all. He
knows he will be blamed and he knows he will never tell anyone how
Lulu's behavior had forced Summer over the edge. This was just
something else he would have to shoulder himself. He feels someone
pull a sweatshirt over his head and help him put on his jacket.

"Look at me. Hey friend, look at me," a disembodied voice calls Nick
back from the edge of hysteria.

Nick tries to focus his eyes on the cop in front of him, but his
mind just wants to shut out the sights around him.

The cop runs his hands over Nick's head and upper body where most of
Lulu's blood is. He turns to his partner and shouts, "He isn't hurt,
but I think he's going into shock. Any chance of getting someone to
look at him?" He wraps a blanket round Nick and leaves him to his
thoughts. "Stay put, you hear? You just stay right there. We're
going to take you to the hospital."

Nick turns his back on the devastation and his attention is caught
illogically by the sight of thin reedy flowers scattered on the
hillside, their long thin stems hanging on precariously to the
exposed slope, their flowers in daylight, bright crimson. By the
light of the moon they are now a deep blood red. He wonders
irrationally at their tenacity and their delicacy. Against all odds
they flourish. The sight of them calls him back to the Incline, back
to the present. His eyes wash over the view, and for the first time
ever it fails to move him. His heart is completely broken.

A baby's pitiful cry fills the air and Nick is galvanized into
action. He rushes to the ambulance but already it has started to
move. He turns to get his car, but is barred by the cop who had
taken care of him. "We need your car," he says kindly. "Come with
me. They are going to Pittsburgh General. I'll take you."

~*~

Nick is in shock. The doctor's first report is appalling. When she
was thrown by the gun blast Lulu had fractured her skull and broken
her neck. The bullet had hit her side and spun her violently against
the railings. The impact had done irreparable damage.

Burton had come down and brought clean clothes for him. The sight of
his son covered in so much blood had almost given him a heart
attack. He left Nick at the hospital to fetch Caroline from the
airport.

Nick now waits for Caroline and his father to return. Lulu is brain
dead. The doctors are asking for permission to harvest organs and
Nick has no idea whether this is something that Lulu believed in.
Nick realizes once more how little they have known about each other.
He must await her mother and ask if she knew. Time is now of the
essence.

Nick sits with Lulu's limp and lifeless hand in his. Her fingers are
so cold and clammy. He shudders. His daughter had been removed from
Lulu's womb unceremoniously and he has yet to see her. It all seems
too much to handle at once. Somewhere deep inside his psyche, Nick
is offended by the untidiness of Lulu's death. The fact that it was
unnecessary makes him angry and hurt. He must get things straight
with Lulu before he can face the task of bringing up his child
alone. He is honest enough to feel grateful that the decision of
whether to leave Lulu has been taken from him. He and his child are
alone. So be it.

"I know you can't hear me Lulu, but I have to tell you this. When we
first met, you were a bright spark. I wanted and admired you so
much. Your passion was so different from my dull unemotional ways. I
wanted you with every beat of my heart. But you never looked at me
that way. I realize now I was just someone you knew admired you, and
you reveled in the adoration. When you left Brian I shouted with
joy. Then you turned away from me. I could never understand that.
Yet on the way to Barbara's wedding, you said you had arranged room
for us! I was never going to refuse, but it seemed that you had just
fast forwarded through some part of our growth, some important bit
of life we needed to survive. A learning curve. A time to get to
know each other on a personal level. I didn't know where that
invitation came from. I still don't understand why it happened."

Nick stops to draw breath. This baring of his soul is painful. Even
knowing that Lulu can't hear him, he feels the sense of release it
brings to finally talk about how he has felt about their romance. He
drifts into silence, gathering his thoughts.

Sighing he begins again. "I sometimes wonder, Lulu, if we hadn't
been caught by Alvin if we would ever have survived in love or lust.
That was when you cut another chunk out of our lives. You never even
stopped to think what you were doing. We went from lovers right to
respectability in one quick step. `Buy me flowers' and `put on an
apron'. These were things for you. To make you feel that people knew
we were a couple. But we weren't. We couldn't even talk. I've never
had a lover who spoke less than we did. When you were offered that
job in California, you wanted to take it, but I think you were
annoyed that Alvin was quietly moving James into your spot. I don't
think you stayed for me."

Nick rises to pour water for himself and he stops to look at the
street below and is surprised to see that it is dark again. *How
many days have we been here? Where is my daughter? I have to see
this through.* He sips the water and runs the cool glass over his
forehead, giving himself time to contemplate what he still needs to
say. The room is eerily quiet, with only the sounds from the life
support systems beeping their endless tattoo in the background. The
brightness of the room lends a sickly pallor to his skin.

Finally, he speaks for the last time and tells Lulu the rest of his
feelings. "The biggest chunk you stole from our life was when you
told me you were pregnant. We were never ready to live together, let
alone have a baby. Then your incessant needs drove me crazy. Was it
because you saw then that we were wrong for each other? I would have
left you. I like to tell myself that I would have stayed for the
baby, but I'm positive I would be lying. I'm sorry, Lulu, we were
never meant to be. It was never love-- just lust. I'm sorry I failed
you, but I don't know how I could have ever pleased you. You never
loved me anyway. I was just what was there after the hurt Brian
inflicted on you. I promise I'll look after our child. I'll do my
best to be a good father. That I can promise, and that is a promise
I can keep.

Nick rises and goes to the door to let the doctors and a tearful,
sobbing Caroline into the room. Caroline glares at him with such
venom that he glances away from her direct gaze quickly. They sit,
each with there own thoughts as the doctors turn off Lulu's life
support. The deafening noise from the machines slowly become silent
and the monitor shows that Lulu has passed on. Nick wearily picks
himself up and leaves the room. Caroline follows him outside, and,
as she starts to raise her voice he turns, and pointing his shaking
finger at her he growls angrily, "Just shut the hell up, let me be
for five minutes. Go back to your daughter and make your peace. I
have things to do. Leave me alone."

~*~

"I've come to see my daughter, Ahh… Fallin, Archer." Nick is
confused as to what the medical staff has put down for the baby's
name, and stammers his request. Tiredness radiates from him and the
matronly nurse takes pity on him.

"Baby Fallin, a beautiful little girl. It's so sad about her Mom.
Just let me put this gown on you and you sit right there." The
matronly nurse ties a gown on Nick and sits him in a rocking chair.

He lays his head back and rocks gently almost sending himself to
sleep. He is disturbed when the nurse returns to the room and gently
lays the little girl in his arms. She puts a cushion under his elbow
and says softly to him, "There, just where she belongs. She has been
waiting for you for two days. That's a long time for a little girl
to wait. You'll not get away with that often." She laughs at her own
humor. "Girls are impatient, you know. They demand to be loved. But
you will love this little beauty, I'm sure. You going to be all
right now?"

Nick gazes in wonderment at his little girl and his eyes mist
over. "She is perfect," he says.

"I'll leave you for awhile then. If you need me you just use the
buzzer."

"I have to tell you about your mother," Nick whispers softly to his
child. "I'll never tell you the bad things. I will always tell you
all the good." Then he realizes that this is what his father had
done with him. Never telling him the bad things had not protected
him at all. "We'll have to figure this out as we go. Hey, I'm new to
this and you have to give me some room for mistakes." He chuckles
quietly as he talks. "I'll have to give you a name. Something that
suits you. Something that shows your spirit. How you survived this
night." His mind is drawn back to the hillside and the flower
hanging on to the exposed slope.

He looks up as Burton knocks on the door, and he waves at his father
to come in. Standing, he gently hands the little girl to his father.
His pride is evident. Burton deftly turns the baby on to his other
arm and asks Nick, "Will you call her Lulu?"

"Her name is Poppy. Poppy Fallin." Nick lifts the pink hat from his
daughter's head to allow Burton to see the fuzz of reddish blond
hair.

Burton, holding Poppy with one hand, reaches out and putting his
hand round Nick's shoulder he pulls his son close into him. Three
generations of Fallins stand together. With his head on his father's
broad shoulder, Nick holds on gently to his daughter's tiny, perfect
hand. Finally giving way to his emotions he leans into his father's
neck and weeps.

The End