Title: A Conversation (of sorts) with Nicole Julian

Author: Aeryn Sun

Email: willowrose_98@yahoo.com

Feedback: Yeah, sure, make my day.

Archiving: Ask, and ye shall recieve. Just ask first.

Rating: PG, for Nicole rudeness

Couple: Sam/Brooke (although they don't actually appear)

Spoilers: Any and all episode is fair game especially the last one.

Summary: A chat with Nicole to explain that twist of lime at the end of Telling Nicole

Warning: If the idea of two women involved in a romantic relationship together disturbs you, run, run far far away and never look back. If it's illegal where you live, move quickly. If you are under 18, age quicker. Other than that, enter at your own risk, and enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine, still. *Sigh*

Author's Notes: This is just something fun I wrote at work while I was bored. It's not a story so much as a POV explaining the little bombshell at the end of Telling Nicole. It's supposed to be funny, but I don't know if it succeeded. Eh, I tried, you're under no obligation to read it, it's just a rant. Half-Nicole/Half-Aeryn. I actually have no idea what this is other than an attempt to get through the writer's block currently preventing me from working on finishing Telling Dad.

{ }= Author's comments

Listen up twinkies, cuz I'm only going to go over this thing once. You still with me after the little curve Aeryn threw you at the end of Telling Nicole? Nice throw BTW {thanks} But really, can any of you honestly say you didn't see that coming? What planet are you from? {Nicole, be nice, these are my friends} OK, fine, whatever. *sigh* OK, first off, it wasn't just a plot twist thrown in by Aeryn to keep you reading or to serve as a remarkably funny injoke based on my astounding resemblence to Tammy Lynn Michaels. It was, as they say in that hideously cliqued manner they say most things, part of the natural progression of things.

I actually had a good conversation with Spam, argh, Sam, sorry, force of habit, while we waited for Brooke to wake up. Although I did kind of wish Sam could have gotten rid of that Cheshire Cat grin she had on her face the entire time. It was like the damned little investigative reporter knew the entire time and me saying outloud was confirming her suspicions or something. OK, so it was, but it was still damn annoying. Maybe if you're lucky, Aeryn will get around to writing exactly what went on in that little conversation. {ARGH, what'd you go do that for? Now they're gonna have ideas and wanna see it!} Tee hee

And the whole Brooke swooning thing when I said it. Now THAT was funny especially given the fact that Carmen pulled the same narcoleptic fit on them when they sprang their news on her. That's why I was so nervous, I knew given what Sam and Brooke had just told me that they would be all right with it but if Carmen turned on them, what would she do to me?

OK, granted Carmen is no friend of mine, especially after I nearly killed Sam with my car but I don't need or want this to get out. Aside from Sam and Brooke I want no one to know. Do you know what kind of damage this could do to me if it got out (pardon the pun)?

Yeah, I know it's wrong but a year ago, do you know what I would have done with this information if it had been about someone else? Of course you do, I'm Nicole Julian, the Queen Bitch, Ice Queen who will gladly destroy anyone who gets in my way to get what I want. Or at least I used to be. Thanks to Sam and her poor imitation of a Jaguar hood ornament my soul has decided to rear it's ugly head and remind me that people have feelings. And so do I. And I genuinely thank her for that.

{Hey, Nic, ya wanna get on w/why we're here? You're sort of rambling and I'm getting writer's cramp. Plus I think we might be losing our audience} Shut up, Aeryn, this is my moment in the spotlight, my fifteen minutes, or, given the way you write, fifteen pages. Keep you're shirt on, or not, your choice. I'll get around to it. {Sorry, geeze...}

She is a real pain in the Diesel clad ass, you know that? {I heard that} Whatever, you wrote it, schizophrenic much? What was I saying before oh Mighty Angst Queen interrupted me? Oh, yeah, feelings. I do have them and the thought of someone using this new information to hurt me terrifies me to no end. So I'm keeping this to myself for now, outside of Brooke and Sam. So I'll just stay in the closet with Aeryn. Keep your hands to yourself, Kitten. {Hey!} Ew, Aeryn, you wear generic sneakers and Faded Glory jeans? {I told you I work at Wal-Mart and get a discount. I don't get paid to write these little stories, y'know} I have GOT to take her shopping. {Grrr...Oh, will you just get on with it all ready!} OK, OK, some people are so touchy.

OK, down to the nitty gritty. {Thank God} Ignore her, I do. When did I come to my little conclusion? Not overnight, that's for sure. This is not something you wake up one morning and decide to do. It's a lifestyle choice that definitely puts you outside the norm. Why do people use the word 'choice'? That word implies that it's some sort of conscious decision on your part, which I don't think it is.

But whatever it is: a choice, a genetic quirk, a misfiring synapse, whatever, I think I knew rather early on even if I didn't understand. I have always found guys cute, chased after them on the playground, dated them, screwed them. Nope, nothing wrong there. But there was always another part of me that found girls attractive too. And that just confused the Hell out of me. Disturbed me even. So I chose to ignore it. See, in my universe, Heath Ledger is hot. So is Keith Hamilton Cobb, Josh Harnett and Vin Diesel. I am not supposed to find Catherine Zeta-Jones, Sarah Michelle Gellar, or, get this, Tammy Lynn Michaels hot. And I am especially not supposed to think that way about Sam McPherson.

ARGH! ARGH! ARGH! I did NOT just say that! Did I just say that? {giggle, yup} Shut up you insane author! You made me say that! {nope, you did that all on your own. I'm innocent} Yeah, right, and I'm a natural blonde. {*blat*}

OK, since I did 'say' it, let me back up the turnip truck so that I can run Aeryn over with it. {Uh-oh, hey, your license was revoked!} Brooke is, was, is...I'm confused. {Duh} grr...my best friend and I love her. Who wouldn't? She's tall, thin, beautiful, with expressive eyes and the kindest soul and purest heart of anyone I've ever met. Kinda makes you wonder why she ever hung out with me, doesn't it? Anyway, as much as I care for her and would do absolutely anything for her, for a long time, I would also do anything TO her to get my own way. I didn't care how I hurt her if it furthered my cause. There's no love involved there, folks. Just greed, envy, powerlust, and bitterness.

I love Mary Cherry, in a weird 'she's an axe-carrying Texan' sort of way. There's sick and then there's SICK. Carmen is OK, I guess but not my type. And Lily is cute but too outspoken for her own good. I swear, if she were gay she's flame so bad that we could blame every California wildfire solely on her. No, my attention had been focused on, for longer than I cared to admit, the one person who annoyed me the most. God Damnit, the thorn in my side, or paw, as it were, the biggest pain in my ass, the bad penny, little miss 'Inside Edition' herself {are you done yet?} I'm just getting warmed up {Oh, Christ} Sam.

Now, don't go freaking out thinking that I'm going to go around plotting to break the two of them up. Please. You'd need a crowbar to pry them apart, or a pair of tow trucks. Nothing is going to come between the two of them, I'll see to that myself. After all I put them through, it's the least I can do. Besides, I lost my chance before I had one and then there's the whole running her over thing too. Brooke's little 'Law & Order' closing argument visit with me while I was in custody for the accident clued me into her true feelings for Sam. It hurt but it made me examine the reasons why I felt the way I did for Sam. After all, I had a lot of time for thinking.

Let's face it, aside from the fact that both Sam and Aeryn are pitifully fashionally challenged {Hey, watch the insults. I can kill you off, y'know} But you won't, I'm too much fun to have around. {Point, Nicole Julian} As I was saying, aside from Sam's poor taste in designers, the girl is breathtaking. From her hair to her eyes to those lips, the genetic makeup of Sam McPherson is perfect. But it's more than that, there's this spark to Sam that draws you to her whether you want it to or not, and trust me, I was a big not.

But it's futile. You might as well swim upstream, against the tide, spit into the wind {pull the mask off the ol' Lone Ranger} Shut up, Aeryn, I'm ranting here. {sorry} But there's nothing you can do to fight it. Trust me, I tried. So I hated her instead. Ironically, it's the same thing she and Brooke did for so long. When you're tied up in knots and don't understand why you sometimes turn it into something you're familiar with. In my case, anger and vitrol.

I wasn't raised in a very loving home. Please, you've seen my mother. I've seen wax statues at Madame Toussaints that emote better than that woman. Hell, my Mommy Dearest makes Joan Crawford look like a fluffy pink bunny rabbit in comparison. And people wonder why I act the way I do. Lead by example. Nature vs. nurture and all that. Although I doubt the word nurture is in that woman's vocabulary. {Drifting off subject again} Backseat narrator.

{We're still waiting for the big epiphany here, Nic, not the family history} Thanks for the reminder. Now you know who I loved and it is past tense because I'd rather see her happy than anything else. Brooke obviously makes her happy and that's more than enough for me. But, when did I realize my preferences swung both ways? Well, I had to start by accepting myself. I am not, nor will I ever be Brooke McQueen. Or my mother, thank God. I am Nicole Julian. So I started there, with trying to figure out exactly who she was and what she wanted.

Well, she hated what she had done Prom night, she hated seeing the object of her affection sprawled out on the asphalt like some piece of meat, knowing that she put her there and she absolutely hated seeing the best friend she ever had looking at her like she was next on the hit list. What else?

She was tired of people hating her but knew she had no one to blame but herself. And she was tired of hating herself. She was tired of being confused all the time. Still with me? {yup} So I figured out that I had to take a deep breath and take a good look at myself, bleached hair and all. Who am I? Well, I had to stop fighting the fact that the sign above my head says His AND Hers and then move on from there.

That eliminated a lot of my confusion. OK, I like guys and girls. I don't hate Sam McPherson, I really, really like her. And I just ran her over with my car. Oh, shit. Well, scratch that relationship for that reason and because she's Brooke's girl. OK, cool. I can deal with that because I can deal with myself. I don't need to fight Brooke for something that isn't mine to begin with just to feel validated.

I know what you're thinking. I am not confused about my sexuality. For the first time, I'm actually clear on it. I am not lonely. There's a difference between not having friends and actually being lonely. And I'm not lonely. And I'm not oversexed although I know there are some people who'd fight me on that one. I know what I want, love. Whether it comes with a pair of pants or a skirt I don't care, as long as it's a credible designer. Actually, I don't care about that as long as the love is genuine. I can overlook poor fashion if the heart is pure enough and they can overlook my mistakes. I want a love like what Brooke and Sam have. Pure, overwhelming and deep. If you ever have a chance at something like that, grab on to it and no matter what anyone says, never let it go.

And I swear if you ever tell anyone that Ijust bared my soul to you, I'll hunt you down and run you over with Aeryn's turnip truck. {Hey, enough with the threats, thanks to me you're no longer a credible threat, you have no license and I don't own a turnip truck. Hell, I don't have a license yet. I fail that test come Friday} Optimist.

{See, only five pages, you poopy head!} Go to bed Aeryn! {*Blat*} Oh that's mature, how old are you again? {Shut up, Nic}

{Goodnight and why are you reading this piece of crap?}