Series: Breakthrough

Title: Far From The Tree

Author: Alan Hitchen

Email: darkmere2000@yahoo.co.uk

Archive: http://www.realmoftheshadow.com/alan.htm

Disclaimer: Popular is the property of Touchstone Television.

Pairing: Sam/Nicole (eventually)

Rating: PG-13

Information: Follows on from When One Door Closes.

Summary: Sam spends some quality time with Nicole.

Quotation: "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
Sam (re: Brooke) - Under Seige.

"Sam McPherson to see Nicole Julian," she said nervously into the speaker unit. The muffled acknowledgement was followed by the clank of bolts and the rumble of wheels as the large gate slid open allowing Sam to enter the property.

Following her instructions she drove past the house to the garage where she found a space waiting for her drab brown Beetle. She parked it between a smart red Karmann-Ghia and Nicole's familiar silver Porche. Retrieving her overnight bag from the back seat of her car she walked back to the house, an imposing Neo-Classical edifice.

"Sammy!" Nicole greeted her guest enthusiastically with a bone-crushing hug that took the larger girl by surprise.

"That's me," Sam confessed with a wry grin. She peered past Nicole into the entrance hall. "Wow, and I thought the Palace was big!" she observed.

Nicole's happy expression wavered. "Yeah, well, size isn't everything. C'mon in and I'll give you the tour. Leave your bag, Janet will take it up for you."

Sam gave the holdall to the maid who seemed to have come out of nowhere. "You have servants?" she queried, as Janet silently disappeared up the staircase.

"A house this big doesn't run by itself," Nicole said simply. Then linking arms with the brunette she began the tour of the Julian mansion. What felt like hours later they ended up at the kitchen. "Hungry?" asked Nicole, opening up the fridge to check out the contents.

"Kinda," Sam replied off-handedly. "Where is everyone?"

"The kitchen staff you mean? Oh, they've got the weekend off. Only Ellis, he's the butler, and Janet are on duty at the moment. Mom is busy 'touching bases' elsewhere, but when she's home and hosting one of her political soirees this place is like Central Station. Right now we've a fridge full of food and a microwave. I think we can manage on our own."

Later, after a light meal and even lighter chit-chat, Sam turned the conversation to more weighty matters. "You know, when you said you were lonely I thought you were exaggerating. But this house, it's huge but it's empty, cold, lifeless."

Nicole answered the point with an accepting shrug. "Now you know why I've never invited anyone here before."

"So why ask me?"

"I had to start somewhere, it's a friendly thing to do, right? And besides, I wanted you to know how it is for me."

"I'm glad you asked me."

"You are?"

"Sure. If it gets me out of the house and away from Brooke I'm very glad."

Nicole's face fell. "Oh."

Sam winced at her faux pas. "Sorry. I forgot. You'd rather be doing this with her wouldn't you?"

Nicole didn't know how to answer that without giving herself away, so she said nothing and fiddled with her fork instead.

"Moving on then," Sam said brightly, filling the awkward silence. "Can we watch a movie now?"

Nicole nodded and smiled. "I'll just get the popcorn."

"Well, I liked it," Nicole stated as they left the home cinema and headed upstairs.

"No. You liked Catherine Zeta-Jones," Sam teased.

"So, what's not to like?" Nicole said defensively, wondering when she would find the courage to tell Sam which brunette she really liked.

"The plot. There's a reason why the original film is a classic and it's got nothing to do with colour, surround sound, or CGI. It's a good story well told. If I were Shirley Jackson I'd sue. Lucky for them she died back in 1965."

"So why did you want to watch it then?"

"To see if it was as bad as the critics said."

Nicole frowned. "Sam, I want you to have a good time while you're here."

"I did. It was okay."

"Just not very good."

"Exactly."

"Right," Nicole said dryly. "Now we've got that sorted. Time for bed?"

Sam discovered Nicole's bedroom to be an oasis of warmth in an otherwise cold building, full of knick-nacks and other personal touches of decoration. And after they changed for bed, instead of pillow-fights or makeovers they talked. Sam lay facing her enemy-turned-friend on the bed as they exchanged life histories. She listened with close attention as an emotional Nicole revealed how everything had changed with the death of her beloved Nana, her only source of parental love and affection.

"I'm so sorry, Nic," she said, pulling the weepy blonde into a comforting hug.

"You've not heard the best bit yet," Nicole said with a sob. "One day I was arguing with Mom. I don't remember what about, but I must have been winning because she came straight out with it and knocked me flat..."

Nicole stopped and Sam's concern increased. "Come out with what? What did she say?" she asked urgently.

"That I wasn't hers. That I was adopted. That even my real mother didn't want me. That Nana was a fool to waste her time on me." She looked at Sam with eyes that suddenly registered no emotion of any sort. "And that's when I became what I am now. What she is - an ice-cold bitch."

"Oh, Nic." Sam really didn't know what to say. "Oh, Nic," she said again, and then to Nicole's complete surprise Sam began to cry and she became the comforting one.

Next morning Sam woke up to find she had grown an extra limb. Realising that one of her two right arms actually belonged to Nicole she slowly slid out of bed to avoid disturbing her. The smaller girl emitted a small grunt but remained asleep. Sam watched the sleeping blonde closely, especially her chest as it rose and fell with each breath. Just as it dawned on her that staring at Nicole's boobs might not be the right thing to do and that perhaps she should pull the covers up over them she noticed that her eyes were open.

"Hi."

"Hi yourself," Sam replied with a blush, hoping that Nicole hadn't noticed what she was doing. "Sorry about last night."

"Why?" said Nicole, sitting up and inviting Sam back into bed with her.

Sam slipped back under the sheets and began to explain. "I was supposed to be the supportive friend and instead I just cried. I just couldn't stop all those feelings about my dad coming up."

"That's okay," Nicole reassured, "at least you know that he loved you. My so-called parents never did. I was just a sticking plaster on their failing marriage, a quick fix that didn't fix anything."

"What about your birth parents?"

"What about them?"

"Do you know anything about them?"

"Not much. Hold on." Nicole got out of bed and rummaged in her desk drawer until she found what she was searching for. "Here." She handed over a Xerox of her birth certificate.

Sam smoothed out the crumpled document and began to read from it. "Nicole Grout, born 6th June, 1983, at Fontana District Hospital. Mother: Sheryl Louise Grout. Father: blank."

"Some loving parents, huh? Mom was right, she didn't want me. No one does." Deep in thought Sam didn't respond, so Nicole tried again with an easier question. "What do you want to do today?"

Sam looked up from the paper and beamed. "I thought we could make up a picnic and go for a drive."

Nicole immediately perked up. "Great! Where do you want to go?"

"Fontana."