The Stalker

Author: atotaltotalfan

E-mail: atotaltotalfan2001@yahoo.com

Rated PG

Author's note: This story takes place around the time of You Belong To
Me and is my way of explaining how Nick -- yes, our Nick -- could be
Lulu's stalker. Weirdly enough, I've written a second version as well
using many of the same scenes but in a slightly different, creepier
way. It is the evil twin of 'The Stalker.? I will post that a little
later. Many thanks to Cecilia, Limonize, Jesica and Linda Wilson for
their invaluable suggestions and insights.




It had been another incredibly long day, and Nick pushed through his
front door, bone weary. He tossed his keys next to the answering
machine and listened for messages. There were several, all business.
But it was after midnight -- too late to return them.

The last message finished, and then there it was. That silence. So
many nights of silence, a lifetime of silence.

This was the most dangerous time for Nick, when he was engulfed by the
quiet and the pain that accompanied it. Cocaine and tequila would kill
it right away. But he couldn't do that anymore. So he spent all day
and most of the night at Fallin & Fallin, LSP or in The Incline,
staying busy.

And when there wasn't any more work to do, he went to Kim's. But she
had Mattie this weekend. So he worked at The Incline until he was so
tired he could barely keep his head up.

Unfortunately, Nick was wide awake now -- the deafening quiet of his
own home jarred him awake every time. He made it up the stairs,
concentrating on dragging one foot in front of the other, no detours
allowed.

Detours could lead to bad places for Nick.

He fell on his bed and thought about the last few days. Alvin, falling
off the wagon; James with his dead eyes, bent on revenge; his Dad,
pissed off at him, as usual. He'd tried to help all of them and
failed. He wasn't good at helping. He never knew what he was meant to
say and now he just felt like a failure. A dead-tired failure.

Nick was reaching up to turn off the light when he saw it: Lulu's red
t-shirt, neatly folded and hanging over the railing at foot of his
bed. He picked it up and turned it around in his hands. It was so
small. Jeeze, how could anyone be so small'

He leaned back against the headboard, remembering. This was the shirt
Lulu was wearing that night she first kissed him. Just on the cheek,
but it didn't matter. She was so beautiful -- tiny and smooth and with
dark flashing eyes.

She was mad at him that night. Why, he didn't know.

"What did I do to you?" he had asked her.

"Who do you care about?" she'd asked.

And he tried to answer, to tell her he was like her -- he had a house,
and things, and feelings. He just couldn't make the words come out. So
he got mad and decided screw her, and clammed up. Then he felt her
lips on his skin, and it was like an ocean of warmth washing over him.

Nick had no idea why he felt the way he did about that kiss, or about
Lulu. He just knew he'd never felt that way before.

Things had quickly turned into a mess, though. She had a boyfriend,
but she said Brian didn't look at her the way Nick looked at her (What
way? Nick was still baffled by that).

But he couldn't forget the feeling of that first kiss. He felt it
every time he looked at the tiny red shirt and then he didn't feel so
alone in the world.

He had to remember to return it to her. She would be ticked off --
what else was new? -- but it wasn't his fault. She'd changed into her
clothes for yoga class at the office and was heading out the door with
the red shirt in hand, when she popped into his office, the broom closet.

Of course, there was a tense exchange. Lulu stormed out, leaving the
shirt behind. That night Nick stopped by her house, but no one was
home. It didn't seem right to leave the shirt on the stoop, so he hung
on to it. Somehow he just never remembered to return it.

His gaze fell to the cardboard box on his chest of drawers, just
across from his bed. It was full of Lulu's stuff, stuff he kept
meaning to return but somehow never did. It wasn't his fault she kept
leaving things in his office at LSP.

Take the stapler, for instance. Lulu left that in his LSP office one
day last month, he remembered. He was buried in work when she suddenly
stalked into the broom closet. Nick had looked up. She glowered at
him. For some reason, she was gripping a stapler in her hand.

"You need staples?" He gave a small, supercilious smile guaranteed to
irritate.

Lulu glared. Said nothing.

"What?" he asked, all innocence.

"You know what. You went behind my back to convince the McHenry
sisters to stay together. After all my work, you...you screwed up
everything," she seethed. "How low can you go, Nick? Look who I'm
talking to. Stupid question."

Nick was absolutely still, savoring the moment, calmly moving in for
the kill.

"They came to me, Lulu," he said quietly. She reared up and started
to protest but he switched to his Mr. Reasonable voice. "Lulu, ask
them. Why would I lie?"

It made sense. She knew that, and it cheesed her off even more.
Frustrated, she slammed the stapler on his desk, bit her lip and
stormed out. "Great. Thanks, Nick."

Then there was the photograph of her finishing some race. She was
taking it home in a box of stuff when he ran into her in the LSP
elevator. She was especially irritable that afternoon, he remembered.

"Lulu, Lulu....wait, hold the elevator." She didn't, but he slid
through the closing doors just in time. "I need the McHenry file. You
were supposed to bring it to my office this afternoon..."

"Yeah, well. I'm busy. I had 15 cases today. I have 15 tomorrow. I
have to find an apartment...."

"You're moving?"

She stared at him, astonished. "Jesus, Nick. You've spent more hours
than I can count telling me to leave Brian. I've spent the last three
weeks searching for apartments -- and you didn't even notice, did you?"

"Well, you haven't been exactly friendly," he said, defensive and hurt
at the same time. She was refusing to look at him. He came closer, so
close she couldn't avoid his gaze. "Lulu, why are you mad at me?" he
asked, softly, bringing a finger up to trace her jaw line.

She refused to meet his eyes. Instead she dropped her box and then
stooped down, rooting around through it. "I'm not moving. Brian is.
I'm just helping him," she said quietly. She kept her eyes downcast.
"Seems like the least I can do. He's so...lost."

She seemed sad. Nick hated to see her sad...couldn't stand it.

"It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong," Nick said.

Lulu looked up at him, searching his face. Nick realized she didn't
like what she saw because now she looked irked again.

"You believe that, don't you, Nick? You would." She gave a short,
derisive laugh. "No-Fault Nick. Nothing sticks to you. Unfortunately,
we're not all that lucky."

Lulu went back to searching the box, thrust the photograph at him,
like it was his fault the McHenry file was at the bottom of the heap.
"Here. Your file." She left the elevator in a huff.

What did I do now, he thought? He was tempted to go after her, give
back her photograph and demand an explanation -- but screw it. He
collected himself and went out to his car to go on with his long,
long day.

There was other stuff in the box in his room too. He didn't remember
what exactly. Just stuff she was always leaving behind. She was so
rattled all the time lately. And curt, as if her life was his fault.

Well, he was sick of her. Sick of her glares, her moods. He stood,
stripped off his clothes down to his boxers and fell back into bed,
resolving to return all her junk tomorrow.

But he groaned at the thought. She'd be mad. Make that face he was so
accustomed to now.

Picking up the shirt again, he rubbed the fabric gently between his
fingers. It made him think of her kiss, of the way her eyes lingered
on him that night and a lot of times since then -- when she wasn't
busy being inexplicably angry with him.

After a while, he started to relax and feel sleepy. He reached up
lazily and turned off the light.

Lulu isn't with Brian anymore, Nick thought to himself. Nick pondered
the situation, stretched out in the dark, fingering the red shirt. So
why isn't she with me?

"Don't you know?" he whispered as he drifted off to sleep. "You belong
to me."
 
Part 2

"Nicholas!"

Nick could hear his Dad's voice on his cell phone, shouting to be
heard over the din of the courthouse.

"Dad, I can barely hear you," Nick said, juggling files in one hand
and trying to shepherd his LSP clients -- a family facing eviction --
through the crowded courthouse halls.

"...McLaughlin merger, where's the paperwork for the..."

Nick stopped in his tracks, and dropped his head. Oh god. He'd worked
all night on that merger and then flew out the door this morning,
brain dead after three hours of sleep -- surviving on caffeine and
adrenaline.

"Dad, it's on my nightstand."

Pause.

"Well, get it, son. I'm meeting the McLaughlin folks in two hours."

"Dad, I can't," Nick said. ?I'm on my way into court. LSP stuff. I'll
be here for hours."

Another pause. Nick had messed up big time.

"I'm sorry," Nick said.

"Okay," Burton answered. "Okay. I'll go get it. I've still got your
spare house key. Bye, Nicholas."

**************************************

Burton rushed in through Nick's kitchen door. He was in a hurry, but
entering his son's private world...it just slowed him down. Nick's
house was so pristine, as if no one really lived there. And it was
so....still....like someone had hit the "pause" button.

A life on hold, that's what his son's house -- what his son's life --
seemed like. The thought worried Burton, but he shook it off. A man's
life was what he made of it. He should know. He'd made so many
mistakes, but here he was. Here with Nicholas.

Burton made his way to Nick's bedroom. It was neat as a pin, and the
room that bothered him the most. There wasn't anything....Nick... in
it. Not a single picture on the wall. No books, except for several law
books on the bed.

Burton sighed. His son needed to get a life. Burton shrugged off that
worry too and went looking for the file.

He spotted a cardboard box on Nick's chest of drawers. Was that where
Nick said the file was' Burton took a look inside.

What?

In it was a bunch of random stuff -- a stapler, some "post its"
embossed with the words From the Desk of Louisa Archer. A framed
picture of a woman -- the one from LSP. Lulu, they called her. What
was Nick doing with that? Did he have a new girlfriend?

"I thought he was seeing some blond...a cop," he said to himself.

He sifted through the contents some more. There was a red shirt. Tiny
-- a woman's. Also a key chain, without keys for some reason, from
something called "The Center For Better Living Through Yoga."

Why would Nicholas have all of this? Well, it wasn't any of his
business. Burton looked around some more, then noticed the file on
Nick's nightstand and swept it up, ready to rush out.

Then it hit him...stopped him where he stood.

There was some gossip going around. He'd overheard it at the
courthouse yesterday, something about this LSP attorney whose stuff
kept disappearing. Personal stuff was missing, like keys, clothes. She
was worried. The talk was maybe she was being stalked.

"Yeah, some pervert is taking her clothes," Burton had heard a man in
the crowd say.

"Can you blame him?" was the reply, followed by snickering. "I'd like
to take her clothes too, if you know what I mean. I wouldn't mind
stalking that babe."

Burton looked back at the box and lit a cigarette, his fingers
trembling. This was a worry he couldn't shrug off.

**************************************

The workday had long since ended. Fallin & Fallin was empty, except
for Nick, who was still rifling through documents and scribbling notes
in the margins.

"Son." Nick looked up, vaguely surprised to see Burton in the doorway.
He wasn't usually there so late, but Nick assumed his father was in
his office for a purpose and waited for him to state it.

"How ya doing, son?"

Nick shrugged, a little irked at the interruption.

Burton rubbed his forehead, his head, his neck.

"Son," he said. Burton paused, cleared his throat. "Well... you know I
was over at your place this afternoon, getting the McLaughlin file."

Nick braced himself for a scolding over the forgotten file.

"Anyway, there was a box, cardboard...in your room. It was full of
stuff that appeared to belong to that....what do you call her? Lulu?"

Huh? He's not going to chew me out' Nick remained silent, trying to
figure out the purpose of this conversation.

"Son," Burton said. "Nicholas. You like this woman'"

No response. Burton watched Nicholas, trying to gauge his reaction.
All he saw was a look of confusion, mixed with maybe a little
..embarrassment?

Burton plowed ahead. "Well, that's fine. That's good. She getting a
divorce, right?"

Nick didn't know what to say. How did his father find out about that,
anyway?

"Nicholas, my point is...you like a woman, you call her up. Take her
on a date. Tell a few jokes, get to know her. That's how it's done."

Was his Dad giving him dating advice? What was going on?

"Dad..."

"Nicholas, just tell me this. Why did you do it? Those are her things.
They don't belong to you."

Nick shifted uneasily in his seat, rubbed his neck. How could he
explain something even he didn't understand? How did her stuff start
out in his LSP office, and end up in a box in his bedroom? Didn't
matter. He should have returned all of her things immediately. Why
hadn't he?

"Son, I know you didn't mean to scare her like that," Burton said,
suddenly emphatic. "I know you're not a stalker. If she's being
stalked, it's by someone else."

A stalker? Nick was stunned. Was someone stalking Lulu? Why didn't she
tell him? Probably because she was always so pissed off at him...they
hardly talked lately.

Nick stood and started for the door, car keys in hand. His mind was
racing. Was Brian in town or not? He was gone so much, looking for
jobs now. That's why Lulu and Brian had decided against him moving
out. Brian was gone all the time anyway. He just stayed with Lulu when
he was between job interviews.

Nick didn?t like the arrangement. But he didn't like it when Lulu was
alone either.

And now this....

"No, Nicholas, stop," Burton said, blocking the door.

Nick paused. Why was his Dad blocking the door?

"Wait son. I know you don't want to talk about this.....I know...we
don't talk much in general. But you have to stop whatever it is you're
doing. Just...stop. It's not right. I mean, you know that's not how
it's done, right? You take her to dinner, not take her stuff."

Nick was barely listening. Why was Burton still going on about Lulu's
stuff? She was being stalked by someone! Nick had to find her, make
sure she was okay.

"Dad, I've gotta go.'

Burton stepped aside, reluctantly, to let Nick pass.

"Return her stuff. Now, Nicholas, before she calls the cops on you,"
he said. "And you'd better not let on it was you. Your probation..."

"Okay Dad."

Burton watched his son fly past him, and doubted he had heard a word.


THE END