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“Like I’d be so obvious.” Natalia’s eyes gleamed even as her tone retained its low, detached quality.

Sam had never considered herself one for games, but the back and forth with Natalia was different. If it were a sport, she’d be happily training to be an Olympian.

“Can I get you anything?” The bartender with purple hair and piercings asked.

“Two shots of that Japanese whiskey you have there.” Sam pointed at the massive wall of bottles.

“Shots, Professor?” Natalia’s tone said caution, hazards ahead, but Sam couldn’t stop herself. She was so dialed into the now of the evening. The night was crackling with something she couldn’t help but chase.

“Too wild for you on a school night?” Sam leaned against the bar instead of sitting on a stool. She was too energized for sitting.

Natalia set aside her glass of wine without dropping eye contact. She bored into Sam with her gaze. The intensity reminded her of the scene in The NeverEnding Story where the enormous stone Sphinxes opened their laser beam eyes, ready to disintegrate the unworthy.

Feeling singed but whole, Sam handed Natalia a shot glass before picking up the other. Natalia turned in her seat to face Sam, bare legs crossed and inviting Sam to part them.

“What shall we toast to?” Natalia raised her glass.

Sam tilted her head to the side and thought for a moment. “To powerful women, embracing their strength,” she began.

Natalia lifted a curious eyebrow but stayed silent, intrigued.

Sam’s smile widened. She leaned in, just a hair closer. “To all the daughters of Lilith out there, unapologetic and unbound.”

Natalia’s eyes flashed with amusement, but her infinitely kissable lips were unmoving.

“And…” Sam lowered her voice to a throaty purr, “to irresistibly commanding women who always, always get what they want.”

She held Natalia’s gaze, wondering if she picked up what Sam was nearly willing to offer. Unattached sex, if that was all she really wanted. She could tell Blanca she’d tried and failed, but parted with an outstanding consolation prize.

“You’re so good at pretty words.” Natalia raised her shot glass. “To getting tipsy,” she said before tossing back her drink and swallowing it without flinching.

With a chuckle, Sam gulped her drink but couldn’t help the shake in her shoulders as the smooth whisky warmed her chest. Turning the empty glass in her hand, she cocked her head to one side, hair falling only a little over her forehead thanks to tons of product. “You have to love things that are bold and complex and fiery, but go down so easy.”

Natalia moistened her lips like a cat sharpening her claws. “Oh, I don’t know.” She signaled for the bartender to bring them two more. “There’s a lot to be said for getting it hard.”

Tossing her head back, Sam laughed at the unexpected response. She’d never met anyone as unpredictable as Natalia. After another round of shots, Natalia surprised her again by ordering a beer and falling into easy conversation. Sam told Natalia about potentially getting to teach abroad, visiting universities across the U.S. and Europe.

“It would be incredible exposure for my research,” Sam said excitedly.

Natalia swirled the IPA in her glass, assessing Sam thoughtfully. “You know, there’s an even better way to keep these stories alive.”

Sam laughed. “I expected so much more subtlety from you, Natalia.”

“I’ve been called a lot of things, Professor. Usually some version of direct. Or the weak and jelly-filled might call me a bitch.” The corner of her lip twitched a fraction. “But never anything as useless as subtle.” She leaned forward. “What if the producers promised you full creative control?”

“Those promises always melt away once contracts are signed,” she replied, wishing for the first time that it wasn’t true. Wishing that she could see her work translated into an easier to consume medium like film or prestige TV. Lilith and her daughters should be immortalized and venerated the same way Arthur and Hercules and countless other male heroes had been. They should have countless retellings that capture their raw, feminine power. But she couldn’t trust an industry like Hollywood. There was no way they wouldn’t exaggerate the erotic and queer underpinnings, leaving out the critical focus on female-centric society and matriarchy.

“The terms would be in the contract,” Natalia replied without hesitation.

Sam shook her head, wishing things were different. “You’re not going to wear me down, you know.”

“What is your aversion to this, Samantha? And cut the bullshit about principles and esoteric crap. What are you so afraid of that you won’t even negotiate?”

Leaning away from her, Sam was surprised at the sharpness of Natalia’s tone, but it wasn’t aggressive as much as it was real. It was like she’d dropped the character on stage and Sam was compelled to follow.

“You really want to know?” Sam signaled for the bartender to bring them water.

“If you think I’d ask a question just to hear myself speak?—”