Peer Review, Intermezzo - Subterranean Suburbia

by Tritium

Brook lay in Sam's arms on the dilapidated couch in Brook's basement. The girls were fully clothed, or rather as fully clothed as they normally are. The hour was quite late, and they had not turned on any lights, leaving only a single source of light; the VFD display on the stereo's control surface. For all the differences in personality and taste that existed between the pair, they did listen to the same music, or as Brook's parents called it, 'the death throes of a castrated lion'. Sam always thought that it was a rather colorful and, more to the point, unjustified metaphor for metal, especially coming from people who actually liked the sound of Bob Dylan's voice. Their music of choice for that night was what they both considered light and soothing, some northern European band with a female lead that, neither of them could remember the name of.

Their evening was filled mostly with silence between them. The silence was not born of strife or emotional outrage, but of a desire to not ruin the peaceful relaxation they had come to enjoy in the moment. Sam occasionally moved her hand to tease her lover, and those advances were met with the expected reactions; a soft moan, a slight giggle and her hand ultimately being batted away from whichever erogenous zone it had entered into. Brook wasn't particularly disinterested in making love with Sam that evening, but at that time, she just preferred to be held, and leave it at that.

"Do you think we will get married?" Brook broke the silence, which one of them did intermittently.

"Not without a trip across state lines. I don't think your mom will go for that."

"I don't mean right now. I mean... after we are out of high school. Do you think we will get married then?"

"I don't know... A lot of relationships started in high school fizzle out once the couple graduates, which is why it is so rare to hear of high school sweethearts marrying." Sam lifted Brook's shirt some so her hand could rest on Brook's bare skin.

"That's reassuring." Brook sighed to herself softly. "I want to marry you, eventually. I know I can't have monogamy with you, and I am ok with that." She sounded convincing, too convincing really.

Sam let that sit for just a second. "Babe, it almost sounded like you practiced that in the mirror or something."

"I did." Brooked admitted. "I really am ok with it. I went into our relationship knowing you couldn't be with only one person at a time."

"You can honestly say that you aren't jealous when I fuck someone else?"

"Sam, do you love me?" Brook has a nasty habit of answering a question with a question. Perhaps this was a flaw shared with numerous other fourteen year old girls.

"Yes, of course, I love you."

"And do you love the other people that you sleep with?"

"I sleep with members of my immediate family, Brook..."

"Besides them, do you love the people you fuck?"

"No. I don't." Sam readily admitted that.

"Then whatever jealousy I will feel when you are with someone else, will wash away when you come back to me... like it does now."

"You don't resent it at all? No trace of jealousy remains when I come back to you?"

Brook thought hard, searching herself. The last thing she wanted was to commit herself for life, to someone or something that she resented, somewhere deep within herself. "I can honestly say that I don't resent you, myself, or the people you sleep with." She believed what she said, but did not know if she lied to herself or not, such is the nature of belief.

Sam let that sit for a long while, only speaking after the CD ended and the stereo switched to the next disc. In that silence she spoke. "So should we be setting a date?"

"You haven't asked me to marry you yet."

Sam let out a little huff that was half of a laugh. "Ya know, we can't have a traditional engagement, or a traditional wedding, you know that right?"

"Why, the hell, not?" Brook spoke in an amused tone.

"By tradition, the man proposes and presents a ring, the man stands at the altar and is given his bride, the man wears black... or that that tacky powder blue while the bride wears white; which would be off-white for either of us, since we are hardly pure or innocent."

"Thanks." Brook sounded amused and insulted at the same time at the last part of Sam's answer.

"The point is, we can't hold to some tradition that does not apply to us. If you want to make a ceremony of it, then we shouldn't try and make it a surprise to the other like a traditional engagement would be. We can plan it out, have a party, have some fun."

"I don't want to get engaged at an orgy, Sam."

"We can have the orgy after." Sam was mocking her, mostly.

Brook huffed in half a laugh. "That sounds like a decent idea; a party, not an orgy. Knowing you though, there will be an orgy."

"We don't have to make any plans soon. It's not like your mom will let you get married any time soon, to a girl no less."

"She has accepted that she will not get grandbabies from me. She is... tolerant... of me being a lesbian. In as much as she doesn't call me evil incarnate anymore."

"So she doesn't call you 'Sinner' instead of your name, now?"

"No, she still does. But it's more about being out of wedlock."

Sam thought about this for a second. "Hell, she might pay for the flight to Massachusetts, in that case."

"That's a stretch." Brook paused until the end of the second song on this new disc. "I don't want to put this off too long, babe."

"Break the news to your mom. If you survive, we can start planning."

Brook let the music take over for a few hours, and right before they fell to slumber, in each other's arms, she spoke, barely above a whisper. "And no, Sam. I am not getting married any more than half naked."