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“What is…bestiality?” Bubba asked, frowning at the newspaper in her lap.
“Having sex with a Republican,” Ann answered, not looking up from her book.
Bubba, however, looked up from the newspaper. “Why would allowing gays and lesbians to marry create…” she hesitated as she looked down to read from the paper, “…’a precedent for legalizing bestiality’?”
“It wouldn’t. They just say that to scare liberals into thinking that, if they vote to allow gays and lesbians to marry, their own children will someday have sex with Republicans.”
They stared at each other for a count of three. Bubba broke the silence: “You are making a joke.”
“You’re not laughing, why would you think it was a joke if it didn’t make you laugh?”
“I did not say it was a successful joke.”
That made Ann grin. “You’re getting too good at reading me. I can’t seem to put one past you anymore.” Ann almost missed the early months after Bubba first landed on Earth.
“Why would you want to deceive me?”
“I never would about important stuff, Bubba.”
“You are a lesbian, correct?”
“Majorly correct.”
“Then why would you not consider this important? Isn’t marriage important?”
“To some people it is.”
“But not to you?”
“No, not really.”
“Because you have not been in love?”
Ann looked up for the second time, but for longer than three seconds. Be careful, she thought. “No, because I believe marriage is a patriarchal fossil. It doesn’t mean much of anything anymore, but still carries a lot of weight with people who invest a lot of hope in a myth.”
“You agree with those who feel the institution has not changed even though women and children are no longer considered property?”
“No, I agree with those who believe that continuing the institution of marriage keeps many people thinking women and children are property and most people at least behaving as though women and children are property.”
“Example?”
“Have you noticed that most women take their husbands’ surnames when they marry?”
“Yes. At first I thought it was simply efficient. Except for some Baltic regions, however, it is always the female who relinquishes her surname. Her surname, of course, is almost always from her father, not her mother. Thus, I concluded that after many centuries there is no such thing as a woman’s surname. They are all male descended.”
“What does that tell you?”
“What it tells you," Bubba replied with a look Ann had come to recognize as gentle correction, "is that the woman and all progeny issuing from the union will thereby belong to the male because his name is now theirs.”
“It doesn’t tell you that?”
“I try not to make assumptions. I find I am often in error.”
Ann smirked. “That’s only because you insist on applying logic to understand humans.”
“I have few other tools. What would you suggest I apply?”
“Cynicism. Always works for me.”
“You are not a cynic,” Bubba intoned, one perfectly-arched eyebrow raised over her right eye which was a deep sapphire blue. Fondly, Ann noted that the other was an exact match.
“There are those who disagree with you on that,” Ann growled. She’d managed to get through most of the weekend without remembering Friday evening’s altercation with her ex. Bubba’s response told Ann the alien hadn’t totally forgotten, either.
“She was incorrect. She is usually incorrect in her assessment of you, I’ve noticed.”
Ann’s first reaction was the familiar surprise at Bubba’s ability to read between the lines. Her second was somewhat warmer. “I knew there was a reason I preferred to live with you.”
“I thought it was because I can create vegan meals.”
“No. I do very much appreciate your skill in that regard, but I prefer you over her mainly because you believe she’s wrong about everything.”
“Interesting. I do not remember having mentioned that before.”
“See? We’re beginning to read each other’s minds. How copacetic is that?”
“Humans cannot read Aibals’ minds. In fact, I do not believe humans can read humans’ minds, despite claims by some to the contrary.”
“Perhaps I’m just reading your body language, then.”
“Ah, that would explain your staring at me when you think I’m not looking at you,” Bubba responded calmly as she returned her attention to the newspaper.
Ann was indeed staring at her now, and uncharacteristically speechless. She’d tried not to be obvious but, goddess, how could she not look? Who would ever have guessed that an alien would look that beautiful?
“You are staring, now, in fact,” Bubba murmured at the newspaper. Ann looked down at her book and tried to think what to say. Nothing came to mind. “Do you find me attractive?”
Oh, goddess, give me wisdom. Ann started to speak, but her throat was constricted. She looked up to meet Bubba’s eyes, those amazing, jewel-blue eyes that managed to emit warmth and light despite their cool glow.
“Why are you afraid to tell me?”
“I don’t want you to leave,” Ann whispered simply.
“Why would I leave?”
“Because my being attracted to you would make you uncomfortable?”
“You are not cynical. You are pessimistic. You expect negative consequences despite evidence to the contrary.”
“What evidence?”
“I am still here. Would I stay if I were uncomfortable?”
“No?”
Bubba rose, letting the newspaper drop onto the sofa as she stepped barefoot across the short space to where Ann sat on the floor. As she lowered herself to a kneeling position, Turk padded over happily, expecting puppy pets and, perhaps, another round of wrassling. Bubba turned and looked calmly, deeply, into the dog’s eyes and Turk stopped, sat, then lay down placidly. How the hell does she do that, Ann wondered. Then she felt Bubba’s soft touch turn her face toward those eyes.
“Ask me,” Bubba commanded, but softly.
Ann started to say, ask what, then understood. “Are you attracted to me?”
In answer, Bubba leaned closer and softly kissed her mouth. Bubba’s full lips touched Ann’s once more, almost tentatively, then again with more pressure. Ann realized she was testing the gesture, perhaps for the first time. Bubba pulled back slightly and considered Ann questioningly. “Is that not correct?”
“May I show you?”
“Please.”
She did. Several times, each time more deeply and longer than the last.
Bubba’s eyes were closed when Ann opened her own. “I believe I understand the basic technique now. May I demonstrate what I have learned?”
“Feel free,” Ann whispered, realizing she’d not regained her full voice since it had first failed her earlier. Ann never ceased to be amazed at Bubba’s capacity to learn quickly, to adapt creatively, to improve upon anything humans had thought they’d perfected over millenia. Before her mind became blank, Ann made a mental note to dig out that copy of the Kama Sutra to see what Bubba would make of it…