"I honestly don't think I could manage sex tonight" Sawyer says.
"Okay," Natasha says, perpetually on the back foot.
"But I think we should have a question amnesty. At the beginning I was always rushing around," Sawyer is throwing back the covers while Natasha hovers in the doorway, "And when I was with you we just wanted to fuck and make stupid jokes. I think we missed talking about a lot of things. We used to do this in high school, we’d sit it in a circle and call it ‘airing our grievances.‘ Come on, you first."
Natasha clambers into the hotel bed, firmer and higher than her bed at home. She can't think of anything. Sawyer turns out the light and rolls to face Natasha. She can just make out the gleam of Sawyer's eyes. She thinks of the things that she wants to know: What does Sawyer think happens after we die? Does she have any reoccurring dreams? What’s her favorite breed of dog? What procedures has she had on her teeth? Natasha is not sure what the rules are.
"Fine, I'll go first," Sawyer says, "Are you truly a gold star?"
Natasha answers, "That's biphobic, I'm not answering that."
Sawyer rolls her eyes, "How did you know you were gay, then?"
"We were all in San Francisco for a family holiday, I think I was about eleven or twelve. We were in Castro," Sawyer shuffles closer, "And mom and dad told us all not to stare at any same sex couples holding hands as it might offend them." Sawyer snorts. "Anyway, I was sick and we stopped for a drink and mom got me soup. This waitress came over and she was just gorgeous, you know. She put it in front of me and said, 'Oh, your Pop told me you were sick,' and put her hand on my forehead to see if I was running a temperature. And I just remember this moment of connection, of realization. It's hard not to frame it like an adult would frame it. But I think I knew then," Natasha finishes.
Sawyer's quiet for a few moments, waiting for Natasha to come up with a question. She gives up and asks, "What's the best thing about drugs?"
"Why? You want to pick up a habit?"
"I want to understand why someone who had so many opportunities would be so self-destructive."
Natasha laughs humorlessly, a "huh-huh" sound into the dark. "It gave me the ability to speak to people, to create things to a deadline. It gave me a level playing field."
"Right, your turn."
Natasha asks, "When you joke about the things you joke about, you're not really joking. Are you?"
"No, I'm not joking," Sawyer says firmly.
Natasha takes Sawyer's hand. They lay flat on their backs, linked hands in between them. Natasha feels like they must look like two otters in a river, or else two stone effigies on a tomb.
"I always felt guilty for not, you know..." Sawyer trails off, "But what you said earlier about survival, that was interesting."
Natasha turns to look at Sawyer. Her eyes are fixed on the ceiling, her chin proud.
"I knew before," Sawyer continues. Her voice is quiet and hesitant.
"Knew what?"
"I knew I was gay before."
"Right," Natasha isn't sure what she should say.
"Other women I've been with liked to know. They liked to make sure that he wasn't the reason why."
Natasha shrugs, "None of that affects anything for me. It's unrelevant - irrelevant, even."
"So," Sawyer coughs to clear her throat, "Why did you give up gymnastics?"
"I kept on sicking up whenever the judges were deliberating their scores."
"All down your sparkly leotard?"
"All down my sparkly leotard. A little puddle at my feet on the podium. Having to hold my flowers in front of the stain for the photographs." It's only partly true, but her embellishments make Sawyer grin and that makes it good enough.
"Would you ever want to get married?" It's a ridiculous question for Natasha to ask, but it's the first cheerful thing she thinks of.
"I will admit that when I'm hormonal I do cry at lesbian wedding blogs, but I don't think it's really for me. Watching my mom fuck it up twice was enough. You?"
Natasha shakes her head wildly on the pillow, "No, no. God, imagine the speeches. What about children?"
Sawyer makes a prevaricating noise, "Do I love them? Yes. Do I want to change my lifestyle to accommodate them? No. If I had one I'd probably just sleep outside their bedroom with a shotgun until they were eighteen."
"I think my ovarian ship has sailed, but I can’t wait for my sisters to start having kids. Why did Regina leave you?"
Natasha can feel Sawyer cringing down into the mattress. "The usual. Too much time away with work."
She wants to tell Sawyer that no amount of travel will make Natasha leave her, but this isn't the time to mollify her with statements she can't hope to guarantee. She tries to say something true instead.
"I really respect that you put so much into your work.
