COUNTEROFFER Author: Michele Lellouche Email: culturevulture73@gmail.com SUMMARY: A speculation on what could happen in "The Next Life," which will be blown all to hell by Tuesday, no doubt. Can I just add that I like the Fallin & Straka offices and the idea that they're sort of homesteading Yuppies out in the South Side? SPOILERS: Season 2 thus far DISCLAIMERS: David Hollander Productions, Gran Via Productions and CBS Productions in association with Columbia Tri-Star Domestic Television own 'em. I'm borrowing them for awhile and I'll put them back nicely in their action figure boxes when I'm done. No harm, no foul. --+-- "Nick, hi. We've got your ad all ready." Gerry Valdores met Nick Fallin at the door of Vantage Conceptual Advertising. Nick had met their fellow tenant when the neighborhood welcome committee had arrived one night. He was frankly shocked by their kindness-food from the surrounding restaurants, a sheaf of information as to what the area could provide, and the sage advice to put bars on the glass doors. Valdores was part of the committee but he had stayed after the departure of the rest, to talk of trading advertising for legal work. Vantage specialized in putting together an entire concept for a business, from print ads to website, and Valdores' enthusiasm sold Nick on the idea of some tasteful advertising for the new firm, certainly in their announcement in the Allegheny Bar Association's _The Lawyers Journal_ and with a website. After the events of the past two weeks, he had given Valdores enough grief with changing mockups of the ads that the man should have strangled him by now. But Nick was convinced this was the final iteration. He had spent the last two days being yelled at alternately by his father Burton and his law partner Jake Straka about the name change Burton had unilaterally made from Fallin & Straka to Fallin & Fallin. Caught in the middle between his only family and probably his closest friend, he was even more stressed than usual. There was days he was convinced he had swapped his cocaine addiction for a stress one, but this was ridiculous. So after sleeping even less than his usual five hours last night, he had come to a decision. If everybody hated him for it, well, he was sure as hell used to that. "Great, I'm springing this on them tonight." "Actually, we've got two for you. If you like the ad, I can get you into this year's Yellow Pages-just under the wire." Fallin smiled predatorily. "Excellent. Let's take a look." After half an hour looking over the design choices, he left with a poster tube containing mockups of the ads under his arm. No matter what his father, and, as Burton described them, "his boys," aimed at him, the meeting with Gerry had raised his spirits. In fact, all his visits to the small shop had only hardened his resolve to stand up to his father and keep this firm going the way he had intended all along. And by the sound of the arguing he could hear before he got to the door of Fallin & Fallin, formerly Fallin & Straka, he was going to need all the energy he could muster. With a sigh and a bowed head, he shouldered in the door, to the indifference of his three law partners gathered around the conference table. Standing ignored in the doorway, he wondered if the alarm company down the street could add some sort of high tech bell over the door to their security package. "Jake, we have more name recognition this way," Burton argued. "No, Burton, I went way out on a limb for this place, I got us here." James Mooney, who was unnamed in any variation on the firm name, sat watching them as if it was a US Open tennis match. The younger Fallin watched the argument a little longer, then decided he didn't want to see his father and Jake come to blows. "Gentlemen-" James jumped in his seat, but Jake and the elder Fallin went on. Nick gritted his teeth, judged the distances and slammed the tube down on the conference table between the combatants. Both men jumped back and for a brief second, Nick let himself savor the power rush, even over the deadly looks they aimed at him. "Hi, Nick," James took advantage of the silence, aiming a conspiratorial grin at Nick. "What's in the box? Are we building something?" "Actually, we are. Now, for the next few minutes, everybody is going to listen to me." "Nicholas," Burton started. "Everybody," Nick overrode him. "I have been listening to you three fight, argue and otherwise complain almost since we opened the doors to this place. Frankly, I'm tired of it. We are four intelligent, reasonable men who should be able to work out what we want to call our partnership, how it should operate, and where we want to work. And, sorry, Dad, but we've got a lease on this place with a large cancellation fee, so we're staying here for awhile. Besides, I like our new neighbors. They bring food and offer us work." At their continued silence, Nick pulled off the end of the tube and slid out the papers inside. He took the inside one out first. "Next week's _Lawyers Journal_, our ad reads as follows: 'Nicholas Fallin, Jake Straka and Burton Fallin, formerly of Fallin & Associates and James Mooney, formerly of Legal Services of Pittsburgh announce the formation of Fallin, Straka, Mooney and Fallin' -" he unfurled the mockup of the ad on the conference table between them. "I'm first, since I started this insanity. Jake is second, because he signed up to be my partner while I was in jail, and he got us this place. James, you have certainly done enough in the past two weeks to pull yourself into this arrangement, which was always to share equally any profits that came in the door. Dad, you are last because, like movie billing, we're saving the best for last. And you said you only wanted a few clients, so you can operate more as 'of counsel,' if that's what you want, or you can get down into the trenches with us." He stared at them each in turn, the smiles on Jake's and James' faces, and the surprised look on his father's, that turned sly and approving as he met Burton's eyes. "And we can't change it because our around the corner neighbors at Vantage Concept Advertising, who are at this moment putting together our website, have already got us space in the Yellow Pages for the 2002-03 edition, which closes tomorrow." "And that's the way it is?" Burton asked, smoothing at his mustache. "That's the way it is," Nick shot back. "Dad, we can't afford to move back into our old offices unless we want to reconstitute Fallin & Associates, and I...I don't want that. You don't want that. Jake--" "No," Straka responded. In the silence from Nick, he went on. "Who brought food by? When?" "Two Thursdays ago, when you went to the game, I stuck around to unpack. The neighborhood welcome wagon brought some Greek food from Athenos, the chocolate was from the Sisters place on the corner--" "That was from there? That was great--we need to talk them into expanding," Jake mused. "Vantage is working on them. That's why I like this place--there's work here without even turning around. Small now, but those two businesses can go places and we go with them." No skeptical eyes, no hostility greeted him. He could see his own enthusiasm reflected back and he at last sat at the head of the table, relieved. "I don't know about you boys, but I actually think this might work." Burton was smiling at Nick, so only the younger Fallin saw Jake and James look at each other and mouth "boys?" Both seemed amused. "I'm thinking that I got cheated out of Greek food the other night and we should celebrate our new name," Jake decided, standing. "We can walk." James joined him, exchanging a smile with Nick as he went past, joining Jake at the door. Father and son stared at each other. Nick had had more practice in the last year reading his father and he knew that Burton really did understand this time. "C'mon, guys, ouzo's on me." Nick winced. "That is one drink I don't miss. One of the worst hangovers of my life was the one time I got drunk on that stuff." "And that's--" James prompted. "Saying a lot," Nick admitted. The young owner of Athenos, who reminded Nick of a Greek version of Jake, recognized him from the welcome visit, ushered them to a good table and was genuinely happy to hear they were staying in the neighborhood. Nick couldn't remember a dinner in a long time that he had enjoyed more. He listened to his father trot out a dozen war stories he had heard before and enjoyed them as he hadn't in a long while. He and James told the few stories they could from Legal Services, and then he and Jake tried to top each other with "annoying client" tales. By the time they had reached Greek coffee and baklava, Nick realized he had been smiling most of the meal. Through all of his rehab, he had discounted most of the touchy-feely aspects but after this last year, he had begun to appreciate the emotional connections he had at last made and he felt one being made here. He knew they must all be shocked to see him smiling but he was, even to his own surprise, happy. This was going to work. They were going to have to struggle but Burton had started from scratch, as Nick remembered from his childhood, and Jake certainly remembered his own father building a small business. James had fought his whole life; this was just one more battle. Burton insisted on picking up the check. "I need to contribute something to this group effort." "We're expecting you to go get some clients," the younger Fallin smirked at his father, to Burton's amused look. "James and I have decided we're going to go try the pub on the corner, they've allegedly got a pool table. Wanna come?" Jake offered. "Basketball, pool, did I start a law firm or a sports franchise?" Nick groused good-naturedly. "You boys go on, I'm going home," Burton decided. "I'll catch up," Nick was not exactly sure he was up to a night in a bar having his clock cleaned by Jake, who had apparently not told James he was a pool shark in addition to being a legal one, but he knew he should. With a round of good byes and thanks, the two non-Fallin partners departed, leaving father and son. "So, you think we're crazy?" Burton started from contemplating the distance, half smiled. "No...no. James, he's very sharp, great in court. And Jake's great with clients--he's a lot better with people than you are. I think between the four of us, we can make this work." He smoothed at the back of his hair. "Now that we've got an official name." "About that--" The waiter arrived at that moment to pick up Burton's card. Before Nick could bring them back on track, his father answered. "You did the right thing, Nicholas." In his head, Nick recorded the words for posterity and did a little victory dance. With his usual outward calm, he simply smiled. "I did?" "Make people a part of things, they work harder. Like you." Nick shrugged, half turned his head. "Yeah. I ...I don't know why. But all the businesspeople coming by--all of them happy to have a bunch of lawyers in the area. Like we brought up the neighborhood or something. All I can remember from our old building is how the only people who talked to us were the other lawyers." "A year ago, you wouldn't've cared. And neither would I." Burton shook his head. "Helluva year." "Yeah." "So this advertising firm. You're not thinking of having us do some...TV commercial or something." Nick laughed softly. " No...I don't think so. Even if we have to chase ambulances, I am not doing some TV commercial where we're sitting in front of a shelf of Federal Reporters, talking about nursing home abuse, although after this week, we'd probably be good at it." Burton signed the receipt, pocketed it and his card. "I'll save this for our tax return...what?" he asked at Nick's wince. "I've got to file an amended SS4 for our tax ID number. Update our business license, order new letterhead, business cards," he watched his father's smile. "You warned me." "That I did. And now you see why I called it Fallin & Associates--you don't have to change it all the time." Nick laughed softly. "C'mon, I'll walk you down to your car. Might be a good place to start a business but it's not exactly a great area. "Who was it who bailed you outa that fight in the Incline?" Nick sighed and followed his father out into the night. THE END