Assault By A Duchess
 
Author: Linda Wilson AKA ranapipens4ever (rana pipens = bullfrog–love
frogs!)

E-mail: linda_31467@msn.com

Rated: PG-13–some strong language
 
Disclaimer: Nick and Burton Fallin, Jake Straka, Lulu Archer Olsen
and Claire Stasiak are all taken directly from The
GuardianResemblance to any person living or dead is purely
coincidental; similarity of events, dates, characters or the
portrayal of events is unintentional.

My apologies to my friends Susan and Paul for killing them off and
not having Garfield, Odie, Homer and Simpson disposed of as per their
stated requests. All the incidents attributed to Duchess (in real
life Odie) the parrot actually happened–either I witnessed them
directly or was told about them soon after they happened. The garden
is imaginary; the toads that live there are real.

Thanks for the beta read, Suz–your sure touchi s much appreciated.


--+-- 

"Nick! What on earth happened to you?" Claire asked. She, Jake and
Burton regarded the Fallin & Fallin senior executive partner with
astonishment as Nick Fallin walked into Burton's office and deposited
himself in a chair at the small conference table. A "mouse" only
partly disguised by carefully applied foundation makeup lay below his
right eye.

"Never mind about me. Let's get down to business here," Nick
replied. "We have better things to talk about. Now, even though
mergers and acquisitions have become scarcer in the current economy,
they haven't dried up entirely. Also, we're seeing business
increasing in litigation, intellectual property, bankruptcy and
corporate governance. We're helping a lot of the companies we handled
M and As for a couple of years ago stave off bankruptcy by
restructuring. And Jake, you were the first to note that one of our
clients is going to provide at least ten years' worth of litigation
fees. Good work. I'd really like if Claire could work with you on
Caroline Novak."

"Good idea," Burton said. He caught Nick's glance, realized that Nick
was very much aware that his father was staring at him and willed
himself to look elsewhere.

"I'd like that," Jake said. "But before I brief Claire, I want to
know what happened, too. What does the other guy look like? Do we get
Clay Simms in here for a pretrial conference? Come on, Nick–who did
it?"

"That damn Duchess," Nick grumbled.

"Duchess gave you a black eye? You're kidding," Burton said.

"Yeah," Jake said. "What did you do, trip over her and connect with
the corner of a table or something?"

"It happened last night. She was climbing up my shirt, lost her
footing and bit me," Nick said.

"Excuse me, but I seem to have walked in on the middle of this one,"
Claire said. "Who or what is Duchess, why was she `climbing up' your
shirt, and why did she bite you?"

Nick sighed. "I've been explaining this all day, and boy, am I tired
of it," he said.

"Well, we haven't heard it yet," Burton said. "Nicholas, what's the
story here?"

"Will someone please tell me who or what is Duchess?" Claire demanded.

Nick sighed. "God, I hope this is the last time I have to go through
this," he said. "Claire, Sandy and Peter Northwaite were clients. We
administered a trust fund from Sandy's family–Sandy and Pete lived a
slightly bohemian lifestyle in spite of their money. Sandy's thing
was feral cats–she adopted three in all–and Pete was into birds.
Sandy and Pete died in a car accident about five months ago. I'm
their executor."

Nick poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher that sat on the
conference table, took a sip and went on. "Sandy and Pete didn't get
around to making a full disposition of their assets–including the
animals– before they were killed. Sandy wanted all the animals put
down, but never got around to making specific, binding instructions
about it, so there were three cats and this bird to take care of. The
cats were already spoken for, but the parrot, a yellow-nape Amazon–
yeah, named Duchess– wasn't."

"Didn't their relatives want her?" Claire asked.

"Pete's only survivor is a brother with a wife and son. Brother's job
moves him around a lot, so pets are out. And Sandy only had a half-
brother 18 years older than she is who lives in Chicago. He's aphasic
and partly paralyzed because of a stroke. He can barely take care of
himself, let alone a parrot."

"What is a yellow nape Amazon, anyway?"

"She's a parrot-size parrot, green with touches of red and a yellow
neck," Nick answered. "And she has the foulest personality–" he was
interrupted by groans– "okay, okay–that's what this bird can do to
your mind after you've been around her for a while–this side of
Genghis Khan." He aimed a baleful glare at his father. "And since
some people think other people's lives aren't complete without pets,
I've been stuck with this crazy bird since Pete and Sandy died."

"So how come you look like you went ten rounds with Tim Dohanek?"
Jake asked.

"Sandy and Pete gave her the run of the house and so do I–I didn't
have any choice, and if you ever met this bird you'd know why," Nick
answered. "Like I said, last night she was climbing up my shirt. She
tripped–yeah, birds can trip. Birds don't have hands, so she grabbed
with the only thing she had–her beak." He fingered the shiner under
his right eye reflectively. "These parrots can crack Brazil nuts with
their beaks–that'll give you some idea of the biting force she can
exert. She clung like a leech–maybe leeches got the idea from
parrots, I don't know. Anyway, I got her off me and got both of us
calmed down and I just put some ice on my eye and went to bed. This
morning it sure looked like I'd been in a fight. Lulu at LSP put some
makeup on it so I wouldn't go around scaring people, but that was a
good ten hours ago, so it's probably wearing off by now." He waved a
hand dismissively. "Anyway that's the story of my close encounter
with Duchess the Parrot."

"I don't see what makes her so terrible," Claire said. "After all, it
sounds like an accident. You said yourself she tripped and tried to
save herself the only way she could."

"Yeah, this time it was an accident. But when she's annoyed–which is
most of the time–you don't want to be around her." Nick
said. "Claire, you're talking about a bird that weighs maybe a pound
and a half soaking wet that had a 135-pound woman backed up against a
bathroom wall yelling for help, I'm not kidding. It actually happened–
Sandy and Pete told me about it. She took chunks out of Sandy's thumb
and Pete's upper lip on more than one occasion–I saw the scars. She's
not a bird, she's the Terminator with feathers."

"How old is this thing, anyway?" Jake asked. "I knew about the
problems you had getting the animals placed when you probated the
Northwaites' will but I don't think I heard too many specifics about
the parrot at the time."

"She's fourteen, I think," Nick replied. "So what I have is an
adolescent with the emotional development of a three-year-old.
Parrots can live as long as humans, so there's a good possibility I'm
going to be stuck with that feathered fiend for the next fifty years
or so. God, what a horrifying thought. Look, can we get back to
Caroline Novak? "

"What do you want me to do?" Claire asked.

"Some of her former employees are suing her for misrepresenting
separation packages, things like that," Burton said. "Most of it's
routine, but this is part of that corporate governance thing Nicholas
was talking about. It's a change from some of the city cases you've
been handling."

"Assisting you with, you mean," Claire said. "All right. When do you
want me to start assisting Jake?"

"Monday is fine," Burton said. "I'll still call you in if I need help
with something we're doing for the city."

"That about covers it," Nick concluded. "Anything else you need to
know, Claire?"

"Not right now, and I'm sure Jake can fill me in on anything else I
need to know." Claire said. She rose and so did Jake, Nick and
Burton. She and Jake left the conference room.

Burton grasped Nick's arm and half led, half drew him to one of his
office windows. He took Nick's chin in his hand and tilted his son's
head toward the light. "My God," he said. "Son, you look worse than
you did after that fight at the Incline last year." He released
Nick's chin.

"It feels worse than it looks," Nick said.

Burton chuckled. "Yeah, and the bird runs maybe eight inches stem to
stern."

Nick went back to the conference table and started putting papers
into a file folder. "I'm glad you think it's funny."

Burton shook his head. "No, it's not funny. You're lucky she didn't
get your eye. Have you seen a doctor about that bite?"

"What for? It's healing. Besides, I can just imagine the reaction if
I walked in an emergency room and told them a parrot gave me a black
eye."

Burton smiled a little ruefully. "So can I, now I think of it. All
right, but if it gets any worse–"

"It won't. But jeez, this was an accident. You ought to see her when
she's really in a bad mood. And she probably will be. I had to keep
her in her cage today because the cleaning crew was coming. Duchess
goes postal when she sees their rubber gloves–I think she thinks
they're snakes or something."

"Not surprising," Burton said. "Where she comes from ,snakes are bad
news for parrots."

"Yeah, well, if the cleaners forgot to open the cage when they left
she'll be one pissed-off bird. I'm not sure I want to go home
tonight."

Burton looked amused. "Want me to go home with you and make sure this
feathered nut job doesn't hurt you?"

"No thanks. I can take care of myself. Besides, I don't want you
suing me if you brush your finger against the cage and she bites your
arm off and shoves it up your–you know what I mean."

"Come on, Nicholas–she's only a bird."

"She's only a bird like a tyrannosaurus rex was only a lizard. And
she's got the personality–if birds have personalities–of a
rattlesnake with its tail caught in a lawnmower. Sandy never told you
about the time Duchess grabbed Pete by the skin between two of his
toes, did she? She said you could hear him yelling in Philadelphia."

"What did Pete do to annoy her?" Burton asked.

"As far as I know, he was lying in bed, minding his own business,
which was waking up on a Saturday morning, and Duchess decided his
toes looked edible."

"Why did they let her in their bedroom?"

"You'd have to ask Pete or Sandy, and they aren't here to be asked.
All I can tell you is, if I don't get up at about 5a.m., go
downstairs and get that damn bird and bring her back upstairs I can
forget another 20 minutes or so of sack time. I'm surprised the
neighbors haven't called the cops."

Burton laughed. "So she's helping you develop good work habits." He
saw the look that flickered across Nick's face and was instantly
sorry. "Look, I'm kidding. You've got the best work habits of anybody
I know. Anyway, why don't I pick up something and stop by your place
and we can go over the Pearson depositions?"

Nick hesitated, then decided the idea had some merit. "Okay. I've got
most of the files in my study anyway. In an hour?"

"Sure."

********

Burton showed up at his son's house just under the hour
deadline. "Kentucky Fried delivers," he announced. "They'll be here
in two hours."

Nick was stacking file folders on the dining room table. "There's
more room to spread out in here," he said. "We can eat in the
breakfast room."

"Sounds good to me," Burton said. As he opened his briefcase and
started taking out files a green and yellow blur went past his head.
Duchess fluttered onto the table and began to walk around,
occasionally picking at file folders with her beak. "The cleaning
crew remembered to open the cage when they left," Nick said. "She's
happy, for once."

"Aren't you afraid she'll get out of the house?" Burton asked.

"She's just been to the vet–had her wings clipped and her claws
trimmed," Nick answered. "That was something Sandy insisted on and
she was right–those claws get too long and she can draw blood just
sitting on your hand."

"What about clipping the wings? Isn't that cruel?"

"From what I've been told, no. It doesn't hurt her–all they do is
take off the long feathers at the ends of her wings and she can't fly
fast enough to get out the door." Nick paused and grinned. "It's a
smart idea. Sandy told me the few times they didn't have it done they
regretted it. Once Duchess got out and Pete had to chase her down the
freeway. Sandy said she could just see a 16-car pileup happening
while people watched this tall, skinny guy wearing cutoffs and flip-
flops chasing a parrot down the turnpike."

"Burton chuckled. "I remember Pete. He was kinda tall and gangly,
wasn't he? That must have been something."

"Yeah," Nick said. "Anyway, that's what I got from all the stories
they told me about Duchess–keep those wings clipped. Anyway, Duchess
loves going to the vet. They shower her with attention there." He
paused, turned and looked at the table. Duchess was trying very hard
to pick up a file folder with her beak. "No, thanks, Duchess. We have
file clerks to do that," Nick said. He extended his hand so the
parrot could step onto it. She ignored him.

"C'mere, Duchess," Burton coaxed. Duchess looked at him and then
stepped onto his hand. She felt her way up his arm, testing this new
perch carefully to make sure it could bear her weight, and climbed up
to Burton's shoulder. "How're ya doin'?" he asked. The bird clucked
and tucked her head under his chin.

Nick sighed. "Well, that figures. I guess she's bored with me." They
both sat and went over the files.

At the end of two hours they had accomplished what they had set out
to do and put the files away. The front doorbell rang. "That's
dinner," Burton announced. As he got up, Duchess leapt easily from
his shoulder to the table. and walked around, investigating the
piles of file folders Nick was stacking.

Burton reappeared in the dining room, a shopping bag in each
hand. "Here we are," he announced. Duchess flew to him and resumed
her perch on his shoulder.

"What did you say you decided on, Kentucky Fried?" Nick asked. He
took the bags from his father and headed out to the kitchen, Burton
and Duchess following.

"Yeah," Burton said. "They have a complete dinner for something like
$15, including dessert."

Nick stopped pulling containers out of the plastic bags that he had
deposited on the breakfast bar and turned to look at his father. "Did
you get mashed potatoes?"

"Sure, why not?"

Nick shook his head. "You'll see."

"Does this have something to do with Duchess? She's been keeping me
company all evening, by the way."

"I noticed," Nick said. He grinned at his father. "Wanna buy a bird
cheap?"

"She's just settling in with you, isn't she, though?" Burton asked.
As they talked they put food out on the breakfast room table. The
smell of fresh coffee drifted in from the coffee maker on the kitchen
counter. Duchess fluttered down to the floor and walked out of the
breakfast room into the hall as Nick and Burton sat at the table and
continued their conversation.

"Yes, she is," Nick said. "I keep forgetting that she's really a
three-year-old who's lost the only parents she ever knew–Sandy and
Pete got her when she was six weeks old and raised her more or less
by hand. She bonded mainly with Sandy because Pete had a business
commitment and spent the next six months in South Carolina. Now all
she has is me, and I'm out of the house ten and twelve hours at a
time."

Burton started to put food on his plate. "Sandy and Pete both worked,
if I remember, so she'd be used to being alone all day."
"Yes," Nick said. "Then again, she'd have had the cats for company.
And I wasn't ready to take on that whole menagerie. The first couple
of weeks she was here she seemed to be looking for them all over the
house."

"That's probably exactly what she was doing," Burton said.
Duchess flew into the breakfast room. She landed on the table near
Nick's left hand. "Come on, Duchess-off the table," Nick said. Once
again Duchess ignored him. Nick eyed her warily and continued
eating. "I should have put her back in the cage," he said.

"Why? She's not doing anything," Burton said.

"Just wait," Nick said. As he spoke, Duchess dipped her beak into the
food on his plate. "Hey!" Nick said. Duchess, who could move
surprisingly fast on foot as well as by means of her wings, clipped
or not, scampered up his arm. "Oh, hell."

"What's she doing?" Burton asked.

"What she always does with mashed potatoes–stuffs them in my ear,"
Nick snarled. "She did it to Sandy, too, but never Pete. Duchess, cut
that out!"

"She did it to Sandy and now she's doing it to you," Burton said. "I
think that means she thinks you're her new mother." Nick gave him a
pained look.

"Of all the things I never thought I'd end up doing, being surrogate
mother to a parrot is pretty close to the top of the list," Nick said.

They had finished the main course and Burton cut the chocolate cake
that came as dessert with the Kentucky Fried Family Meal. He put a
slice on a plate and put the plate in front of Nick."Life is full of
surprises."

"I'll say," his son replied. Nick got up, went into the kitchen and
poured coffee for his father and himself. He carried the cups back
into the breakfast room and they sipped the beverage and ate their
dessert.

Duchess, meanwhile, had flown to the serving hatch counter and was
strutting up and down. Burton nearly dropped his coffee cup at the
noise she made. "What's that?"

"Sandy and Pete's doorbell–they lived in an old building with those
doorbells you twist."

"Oh, yes–I remember those," Burton said. "They made that kind of
grating noise." He looked at Nick, a mischievous glint in his
eyes. "She likes to startle people, doesn't she?"

Nick grinned in spite of himself. "Yeah, she does–especially if she
thinks I'm not paying attention to her. She's got an incredible
talent for dive-bombing me from the curtain rods. She's in a good
mood tonight, but I gather from what I've read about it, the females,
especially, go through a nesting phase every so often–if there was a
boy parrot around they'd be starting a family–and they can be really
irritable. I guess it's the avian version of PMS. Problem is, that
describes Duchess most of the time."

Burton shook his head. "Nicholas, does this bird have any redeeming
qualities?"

"Oh, sure," Nick said. "She's loyal and affectionate–I guess she was
trying to impress you tonight. And did Sandy ever tell you about the
time she was taking the kittens to the vet?"

"No. When was this?"

"About three or four years ago–I've forgotten just when. They already
had the older cat, a female, but Sandy took in the two kittens when
one of the feral cats she used to put out food for had a litter–there
were two females and a male. She gave the male to someone, but she
kept the two others. Duchess was jealous–she used to bite their toes
and chase them away from their food dishes. The kittens were a couple
of months old when Sandy was taking them to the vet one day for some
reason. She said she was sitting on the floor putting a kitten in the
carrier when this Bird From Hell came at her–Duchess had her wings
extended and she was walking like a zombie out of a horror movie.
Sandy thought she'd have to put a stake through her heart to stop
her."

"What was that all about?" Burton asked.

"Duchess was protecting the kitten. She knew bad things can happen
when somebody goes into the carrier and she wasn't having any of
that. She can be very protective."

Burton laughed. "Looks like some people are going to have to watch
their step around this bird."

Nick ginned at him. "Yeah. Maybe some day I'll bring her to the
office."

"Okay," Burton said. "She's our alibi the next time we get into a
fight in a parking garage."

Nick laughed. "That's the whole idea. I knew I'd appreciate that
parrot one day."

The End