Disclaimer: You know the drill. I don't own anything in this fic... wait... this isn't a fic. It's an original story! So I do own the characters and such!

Author's Note: So there's this guy in both my English and Newspaper class, that for some reason is convinced I'm a lesbian. Somehow we got locked in this crazy writing competition, in which we challenged each other to write a short story, with what ever the other one wanted. I gave him a randomly generated fanfic. He ended up with a Cesar/Brutus one that included Sports and Lemon/Lime.

Sadly I had to write something too. So my prompted ended up being: Character: Lizzie; Elements: Lesbians and a dildo. Originally I wasn't going to write it. (Especially cause it was originally Elizabeth, which is my name!) But then I got this lovely little idea that wouldn't imply in any way that I am a lesbian. It also managed to repeat my current favorite theme that Love is Gender Neutral.

I set it in Paris, and I had to write some French. I can't write in French. So if you speak it fluently, then I apologize for any grammar mistakes you find in it.

Here's "the jerk's" story. I think I won!

Caesar and Brutus both loved to play sports. On day they eat a lemon. (This is the original stoping point of his story. I made him go back and expand it.) It tasted good so they ate another one and another one and another one and another one one more now. (I typed this with the original punctuation. Aka there was none!)

See? I won. But he won't admit it. Oh well! C'est la vie!

Warnings: T'is some mention of yaoi, yuri, and asexuality! Homophobes stay out! T'is some sexual references! Immature 13 year olds stay out! err... this is actually pretty light on the warnings... in fact it really doesn't need the ones above... I doubt this story will be scaring any little kiddies...

Paris 1901, home to all the noteworthy artist of the time. If you weren't there, then you just weren't good. That was the simple truth of the matter. Paris 1901, the most accepting place of the century. You couldn't be "different" in England or even the Americas, but in Paris? You were expected to differ from the norm in some way. Paris 1901, home of Lizette, a loving bohemian sculpture.

Lizette lived a simple life. She sculpted what she wanted to and sold what she had to to pay for her modest flat and all of her sculpting expenses. Well, that and of course she left herself enough money to go out with her friends every once and a while. After all, what's life, without a social life? But that was all Lizette did. She didn't smoke. She didn't eat red meat. But most of all she didn't date. See, Lizette considered herself asexual, and saw no reason to date if she felt no physical attraction to the other person.

It so happened on this cold February morning that Lizette had no plans. Not that this was totally unusual. In fact, Lizette had not had plans to do anything for the past month, and had the same lack of plans for the next. She barely bothered to get dressed in the morning, let alone make herself look presentable. So it was quite a surprise when she heard a knock on her front door. She almost didn't get up. After all, she wasn't expecting anyone, and she was hardly presentable. But then the person said something.

"Lizzy! Get off your lazy ass, and come let me in!" Cybille yelled through the door. Lizette rolled her eyes as she got off her couch. Cybille was her best friend, and was known for being quite crude. It had amazed many people that Cybille and Lizette had managed to become friends. After all, Cybille was rude, crude, and rather promiscuous, where as Lizette was polite, quiet, and quite innocent.

"Finally!" Cybille stumbled into the flat, as Lizette opened the door she had been leaning on. Cybille flounced over to the couch, bottle still in hand. Lizette crinkled her nose at the sight and smell of the strong alcohol in the bottle.

"You've been drinking," She said.

"Of course," Cybille responded taking another swig of the putrid wine, "When do I not drink?" Lizette shrugged.

"It'll kill you one day," she sighed, taking her seat far away.

"Good," Cybille said, "Better to die young and live well, than to die old and never live at all. Right?" Lizette just nodded. Of course she didn't actually agree with her friend. She would much rather die old having lived a very boring life as a sculpture and closet bibliophile than to die young. But she knew there was no use in arguing withCybille so she just dropped it.

"What's that?" Cybille asked, motioning with her bottle to an unfinished piece of clay sitting on Lizette's table.

"Oh that?" Lizette blushed, "Just part of an unfinished sculpture I've been working on. Nothing important. So how's your acting career going?"

"Nothing important? You clear your schedule out for three months for nothing important. Besides it looks like a phallus." Lizette blushed again, wish she had been more successful at changing the topic.

"Well, it's a big project." She said, cursing her blush.

"Yeah it certainly is big," Cybille commented, causing Lizette to turn an even brighter shade of red. "So what is this big project?"

"What is it?" Cybille asked when she finally made her way to join her friend.

"Covered," Lizette responded.

"I know that! What's under the cloth!"

"That my dear friend is not for the faint of heart," Cybille began to snort, "or the perverted."

"Oh," Cybille said softly, "That's why you didn't want to show me. Well, too bad. What's under the blanket?"

"Fine," Lizette replied, taking hold of the blanket. "Voila!" She said as she tugged it off. Cybille whistled as she saw the statue before her. It started at a basic platform that had L'amour est neutre de genre inscribed on it in fancy script. One the platform were two men in a rather compromising position.

"So that's why you've been so distant," Cybille mused, "You've had two lovers locked up in your rooms."

"Please," Lizette scoffed, "they're in love with each other, not me." She ran an affectionate hand over the arm of one of the men, which happened to be wrapped around his lover. "Do you not get the point of it?" She asked, slightly timid.

"Yeah, it's great porn in 3d,"Cybille said rather bluntly.

"No," Lizette replied, annoyed that her friend didn't get it. "Read the inscription. L'amour est neutre de genre. Love is gender neutral. That is the point. It's not meant to say anything more. It's not meant to be erotic in any form. It just expresses love.

"Sure, and that's why they're nude," Cybille replied sarcastically, while rolling her eyes, "and that's why you've been practicing making their 'equipment', and 'accidentally' left it on the table."

"Well," Lizette blushed again, "I didn't have any model other than pictures, and I wanted to make sure it was perfect." She put the blanket back over her new sculpture.

"Then next time get some models." They began to pick there way back across the room.

"Yeah, that's not awkward to do," Lizette rolled her eyes. "I don't know many men, and the ones I do would not be caught dead modeling for something so," she paused looking for the right word, "intimate."

"Then get some girls. After all, it's the same message. Hell, Jeanette and I could do it for you!" Lizette blanched at that prospect. Jeanette wasCybille's lover, and from what their neighbors said, you didn't want to be anywhere near the two when they were alone without their attire.

"As great as that sounds, I don't I would want to put Jeanette in that awkward position. After all, I barely know her." They reemerged into the main room.

"Fine, so what are you going to do with that?" Cybille motioned again towards the phallus shaped statue.

"Destroy it, most likely, why?" Cybille set down her bottle and ran a rough finger up the statue.

"Oh, I could think of a few uses for this. Especially with Jeanette around."

"I'm sure you could." Lizette moved back to the couch, and was relieved to see that Cybille followed her. She was shocked however when she realized that Cybille had picked up the statue.

"hmm, yes, these would be quite popular among us lesbians," Cybille continued to play with the statue. "Here, I'll show you," Cybille scooted toward Lizette, till she was almost on top of the other girl.

"No."

"Why not?" Cybille asked, leaning in over Lizette.

"One," Lizette pushed Cybille off of her, "you have Jeanette. Two, I don't care for you that way, and following that path could destroy our friendship."

"Fine. Then let's go out for lunch," Cybille stood up and looked at the statue, still in her hands. "Oh, can I keep this?"

"Yes, and yes. Just let me get my coat." And so they left the flat, to make their way through life and the history books,to becoming famous, but most of all, to having fun.