Back on Track
 
Author: JanetD

Email: jdillon@mail.win.org

Rating: G

Summary: This is another story set in my alternate TG universe, the one in which 
Nick went to prison for his drug bust, rather than receiving probation and 
community service. It follows the events in my last fanfic, “Picking Up the 
Pieces”.

Author's Notes: I know nothing about the specifics of the state regulations I 
refer to in this story. I assume they do exist, but I just made up my own 
numbers. 2) Thanks to Goldie for the beta read. =)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The characters in this story are borrowed 
from the TV show "The Guardian". No money is being made from this story. Any 
resemblance of a character in this story to any real person living or dead is 
purely coincidental. Likewise, any resemblance between an organization depicted 
in this story and any such actual organization is purely coincidental.


Tuesday, December 10th, 2002 9:55AM

It had been more than two months since attorney Nick Fallin had been released 
from prison and had begun to reclaim his life. There were still times he awoke 
in the middle of the night, and in the brief disorientation between slumber and 
wakefulness, wondered whether he was still inside Waynesburg prison. But those 
moments were becoming fewer and farther between. He had quickly readjusted to 
life on the outside, and was pleased with what he had accomplished at his 
father’s law firm. He had been confident at the outset that he’d be able to win 
back most of his old clients, and he had. It hadn’t all been sweetness and 
light--he’d stepped on a few toes--but overall Nick felt he’d done a masterful 
job of getting what he’d wanted. And he intended to keep what he had--not just 
the clients--but the life he had been rebuilding, step by step, these last 
couple months. That was why he was attending 12-step meetings with other 
recovering lawyers on a regular basis. He was determined not to go back to the 
habits that had landed him in prison. He had so far resisted the urge to go in 
search of a cocaine high, and he intended to keep it that way.

Nick was finishing up his notes on a brief for the Sanderson/Pauley case when a 
knock came at his office door. As he looked up, Jake Straka stuck his head 
inside the room.

“Nick, Robert Keppler’s attorney is here.”

Nick nodded. “Okay, I just need another minute to finish this. Why don’t you 
show him into the conference room? I’ll be right there.”

“Okay.”

Jake pulled the door shut, and walked the short distance to the Fallin and 
Associates lobby to greet the opposing counsel. A man whom he judged to be in 
his late forties or early fifties stood patiently by the Receptionist’s counter, 
briefcase in hand. He had a thick shock of mostly black hair that Jake, at 35 
and balding on top, couldn’t help but envy. The man’s clothes now, that was 
another matter. He wore brown slacks and a corduroy sports jacket that had seen 
better days. A black overcoat hung over his arm. As Jake approached, the man 
whom he assumed to be the lawyer for the plaintiff met his gaze. “Mr. 
Masterson?” Jake inquired, in a friendly tone.

Alvin Masterson nodded. “That’s right.”

“Jake Straka.”

The two men shook hands. Jake said, “I thought we’d go on back to the conference 
room. Mr. Fallin will be joining us shortly--can I get you something? Coffee, 
cappuccino?”

“A cappuccino would be great.”

Jake turned and spoke to the receptionist. “Vickie, could you bring a cappuccino 
into the conference room for Mr. Masterson? Thanks.”

Jake led the way back to the medium-sized conference room that stood across the 
hall from the office of the managing partner, Burton Fallin. Alvin Masterson had 
just taken his first sip of cappuccino, when the doors slid open, and Nick 
Fallin walked inside. As Alvin rose, Jake made the introductions, “Alvin 
Masterson, Nicholas Fallin.” Nick extended his hand across the table, and the 
two men shook hands firmly. 

Nick took a seat next to Jake, and said, “Well, Mr. Masterson, why don’t we get 
right to it. Your client Robert Keppler is suing Home Supplies Galore for 
negligence in injuries he sustained in their store in Monroeville in September 
of this year?”

“That’s correct. My client, a 37-year old father of two, sustained serious 
injuries to his back and neck when a forklift driven by a Home Supplies Galore 
employee knocked a stack of crates over on top of him. He was hospitalized for 
nearly two weeks, and despite continuing to receive physical therapy on an 
almost daily basis, has yet to be able to return to work. The doctor’s reports 
indicate that Mr. Keppler may be permanently disabled.”

“’May be’,” Nick repeated. “Mr. Masterson, our client feels deep regret about 
Mr. Keppler’s injuries, but he was harmed by his own negligence. He entered an 
area that was clearly marked for ‘employees only’. There was a large red stripe 
painted across the floor to warn people not to pass and a sign that hung above 
the entrance to the area that read”--Nick took a moment to refer to his 
notes--’Caution. Employees only beyond this point. Heavy machinery in use.’ Your 
client ignored that sign, Mr. Masterson, and walked directly into the path of an 
oncoming forklift. The driver, to avoid hitting Mr. Keppler, swerved sharply, 
and ran into the stack of crates. The fact that, in taking that evasive action, 
your client was injured is unfortunate. But it doesn’t change the fact that the 
man had no business being where he was in the first place.”

“That entrance should had been properly blocked off, Mr. Fallin--by a chain, if 
nothing else--and your client knows it. That’s why they agreed to pay for Mr. 
Keppler’s medical treatment.”

Nick’s face did not change expression, as he said smoothly, “Our client agreed 
to pay Mr. Keppler’s medical expenses as a gesture of good will after learning 
that Mr. Keppler had no health insurance. In doing so, they admitted no 
liability for the incident, and they continue to maintain that Mr. Keppler’s 
injuries were not due to their negligence, but his.”

Alvin leaned forward in his chair, and spoke passionately. “We put this in front 
a jury, and I think they’ll see it differently. All I have to do is point out 
how easy it would have been for a child to wander into the path of that 
forklift, and the jury will be eager to punish your client for their 
negligence.” 

Nick exchanged a glance with Jake, then returned his attention to Alvin. “What 
are you asking?”

“Five million dollars. As I said, the doctors say there’s a good probability 
that my client will never be able to resume earning his own living.”

Nick steepled his fingers in front of him, as he answered. “I’ve seen the 
doctor’s report, Mr. Masterson. I believe Dr. Kelly’s exact word were ‘some 
chance of permanent disability’. That’s hardly conclusive.” He looked again at 
Jake, then said, “We’ll offer your client $200,000 to settle this matter now.”

Masterson reacted with surprise, “$200,000? You must be joking. $200,000 to 
compensate a man for not only the loss of his livelihood, but what will almost 
certainly be life-long pain? Your client is going to have to do a lot better 
than that, Mr. Fallin.”

“$300,000. That’s as high as I’m authorized to go.”

Alvin shook his head, then drew a piece of paper out of his briefcase, and 
handed it across the table to Nick. “Were you aware that Home Supplies Galore 
was storing its crates and cartons in stacks up to fifteen feet high when state 
safety regulations call for the height to not exceed twelve feet? It’s our 
contention that by exceeding the regulated height, the stack of crates was 
unstable, and that that contributed to the collapse.”

Nick and Jake read quickly through the document that Alvin had produced. After a 
moment Nick said, “We’re going to have to consult with our client before we can 
proceed further.”

Alvin nodded, and began to load his papers into his briefcase. When he had 
finished, all three men stood up. Alvin paused to pick up his coat, then came 
around the table. As he approached, Nick said, “We’ll be talking again soon,” 
and offered his hand. The two men shook, and then Nick added, “Jake will see you 
out. Thank you for coming, Mr. Masterson.” 

Jake and Alvin departed through the sliding glass doors. After they were gone, 
Nick left via the exit that led to his father’s office. He found Sheila at her 
desk, and asked, “Is my dad free?”

“Uh-huh.”

Nick knocked and then walked into the office without waiting for his father’s 
reply. Burton Fallin glanced up at his visitor over the reading glasses that 
were perched on his nose. “Yeah?” he said quietly, his eyes returning to his 
work.

Nick walked up to his father’s desk, and slipped a hand into his pants pocket. 
“Jake and I just met with Alvin Masterson. He’s handling the personal injury 
case against HSG. He just dropped a bombshell on us.”

Burton sat back in his chair, and looked at his son with interest. “What was 
it?”

“He claims that the store was violating state safety codes by stacking their 
crates too high. That they were going up to as much as fifteen feet when the 
regulations call for no more than twelve. Masterson is claiming the extra height 
added to the instability of the stack, and that was part of the reason that 
Keppler was injured.”

Burton sighed heavily. “This is already a publicity nightmare for these guys.... 
I assume you offered Masterson the three-hundred grand, and he wouldn’t take 
it?”

Nick nodded. “Even if he’s right that the crates were stacked too high, I doubt 
that it contributed to the accident. Those crates probably would have come down, 
regardless.”

Now it was Burton’s turn to nod. “Probably, but you and I both know what it 
would look like to a jury, Nicholas. Not only does the store fail to take proper 
measures to keep its customers from entering a dangerous area, but they 
demonstrate callousness toward the safety of their own employees by stacking the 
boxes higher than the state allows.” Burton rubbed his hand over his chin. 
“Well, call Murphy over at HSG and find out if Masterson has his facts straight. 
If he does, they’re going to have to pony up considerably more than just 
three-hundred-thousand. If this thing goes to court, the jury could award five 
or six million, easy.”

Nick nodded, and turned to go, but he was stopped by a question from Burton. 
“So, what did you think of Alvin Masterson?”

Turning back to the desk, Nick shrugged.

Burton smiled. “You know he used to do labor law over at...what was it...oh, 
yeah, Mandel and Moore. Then in the seventies he got this bee in his bonnet 
about helping kids, and started the legal aide clinic. Of course, I understand 
they had to switch over last year to assisting low-income adults--that was after 
they lost the county contract to provide services for children.” Burton looked 
thoughtful. “I wonder how Alvin took it? He was always passionate about those 
kids.” Nick said nothing, and in a moment his father continued. “You should have 
known the man in his younger days, Nicholas. He was a real firebrand, a 
dyed-in-the-wool liberal who was always getting himself arrested at one protest, 
or another. Yeah, Alvin had a real fire in his belly back in those days.” 
Burton’s voice trailed off, and he gazed off into the distance.

Realizing his father was probably finished, Nick said, “Yeah, well...,” and 
turned and headed for the door. His son’s departure didn’t even register with 
Burton until he heard the door latch click shut. Then the elder Fallin shook 
himself from his reverie, and returned to his work.


Thursday, December 12th, 2002 2:00PM

Nick Fallin and Jake Straka were once again seated across the conference table 
from Alvin Masterson. Nick began without preliminaries, “We’ve consulted with 
our client, and they’re willing to up their offer to $500,000.”

“Two million,” Alvin replied. “You can’t expect my client to settle for less 
when you know a jury would probably award him at least twice that.”

“$750,000,” Nick countered.

“One point five.”

Nick was silent for a moment. “One million, Mr. Masterson. That’s as high as my 
client is willing to go.”

The other attorney considered for a moment, and then nodded. “Okay. I’ll take 
your offer to my client.”

Jake and Nick walked Alvin to the front door. As he was putting on his overcoat, 
Alvin said, “I’ll let you know what my client decides.” Then in an aside to 
Nick, “Oh, say hello to your father for me, will ya?”

“Sure.”

Alvin left, and the two younger attorneys exchanged a glance, then turned and 
headed for their offices.

The End