They got to the bar and found a table near the fire place. It was flanked by an ox-blood leather loveseat on one side and a velvety club chair on the other. Perhaps because it was a Thursday and the after-work crowd had already come and gone, the bar was indeed cozy and peaceful. Bisi gestured for Mari to take the loveseat and moved to take the club chair, but Mari reached out and caught her wrist. “Wait—do you want to sit here? Next to me? There’s plenty of room. Is that too adolescent? Sitting on the same side of the table?”

Bisi shook her head trying not to look too ridiculously pleased. “No. Not at all. It’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Ok, well, it’s what I want, too.” Mari scooted another foot to her left to make room for Bisi. 

Bisi sat down next to Mari and rested her arm along the back of the sofa, and, to her infinite satisfaction, as soon as she stilled, Mari scooted closer again and settled herself against Bisi’s side. It was an unmistakeable invitation. Slowly, Bisi lowered her arm until it was wrapped around her warm, curvaceous, fragrant mate’s shoulders, her hand pseudo-negligently caressing the soft skin of Mari’s upper arm. In reality, every brush of her fingertips over Mari’s skin was lighting up Bisi’s nerve endings in a way that made her ridiculously excited and breathless. Such a minor conquest, but combined with Mari’s invitation to join her and the way she had snuggled into the shelter of Bisi’s arm? Bisi could have roared with satisfaction. 

Like she could read Bisi’s mind, Mari let her head lean back and rest against Bisi’s collarbone. Bisi hoped that the sound of her heartbeat wasn’t actually reverberating through the room like a kettle drum, that it just felt like it as Mari sighed happily and said, “That’s better. That’s perfect.”

“Yes. Perfect,” Bisi echoed, giving her a squeeze. 

“I’m so glad we met,” said Mari. “I’m glad I’m here. With you.” Then she laughed a little. “Sorry. I’m being weird. It’s the wine. Wine does that to me.”

“Let me order you a fresh bottle, then. Red or white?” she signaled to the waiter.

“No more wine! Just a whisky-ginger, please.”

Bisi ordered Mari’s drink and a ginger-ginger ale for herself, and looked down at her content little armful and saw that Mari was a little flushed and her eyes were a little extra sparkly. The wine? Or…Infatuation? Maybe both? “Do you know that you really are terribly beautiful, Marisol? It is a challenge.”

Mari’s flush deepened. Maybe it was more infatuation than intoxication. “You think so?”

“I know so. I almost expired on the spot when I saw you in that dress.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t. One of us is qualified for that kind of emergency, and it isn’t me. All I could do is coordinate your memorial service. I would make sure it was all carried out flawlessly, though, I swear. You would be impressed if you could see it from the afterlife.”

“I’m sure. This has taken a dark turn,” Bisi chuckled.

Mari shuddered. “Touché. Let’s say that my CPR skills would have brought you back from the brink. I am, in fact, CPR certified. Requirement of the job. You never know.”

“Mari, just the threat of your mouth on mine could bring me back from the brink, I promise you,” said Bisi, staring at the mouth in question, a soft, blotted red now, rather than the glossy crimson it had been earlier in the evening. Maybe even prettier. Even more kissable.

“How are you feeling right now?” asked Mari looking up at her through her lashes.

God help her, Bisi was so distracted by Mari’s lips that she almost blew it. “Me? I feel fi—” then she caught herself. “Close to death!” she corrected. “Alarmingly close to death.”

“Can’t have that,” said Mari, tipping her face up and reaching for Bisi’s. 

Bisi stayed very still as a very warm hand wrapped around the back of her head. When it tugged her downward, however, she went so willingly. Bisi had to drive Mari home, so she’d been sparing with the wines at dinner and wasn’t planning to drink anymore that evening, but it didn’t matter—there was nothing they had behind the bar that could hit her as hard as that kiss. She was diligently trying to keep the kiss bar-appropriate, but then Mari slid her tongue into Bisi’s mouth, sweet and spiced and wine-tinged. Bisi forgot about the rest of the people in the bar as, again, her eyes turned like lightning. Okay, that really is weird. I’m not mad at it, but it’s weird. She let Mari ruinously plunder her mouth and her sanity until blood was pounding in her ears and she began to fear a more serious problem than just turned eyes or a judgmental audience. Stupid tight skirt. She should have worn pants. Pants were better in emergencies like these. And emergencies like these were bound to crop up around Mari. Reluctantly, she pulled herself backwards. “Mari, hold on. That feels a little too good. For the setting.”

Mari blinked at her, disoriented for a moment, her breath coming in little puffs. “Oh! I got carried away. I get carried away with you. Really carried away.”

“Believe me, I understand,” said Bisi as she readjusted their positions, tucking Mari back into the place she’d been occupying earlier.

Mari leaned her head back onto Bisi again and, looking up, said, “I really hope you mean because you get carried away with me, too, and not that everyone gets carried away with you, so you’re used to it. Because that is actually a believable scenario.” 

“That’s flattering, but I can’t remember anyone else ever kissing me quite like you do and I surely did mean that I get very, very carried away when I kiss you. Or even hold you like this. Or scent you. Or… look at you.”

“Mmm,” said Mari, sounding very satisfied. Then she sighed, and said “Maybe I shouldn’t have kissed you like that, though.”

“I was not complaining!” Bisi protested. “Please don’t stop kissing me like that.”

“Oh, no worries there. I don’t think I can stop. That’s just how I kiss you. But…the way I kissed you sort of implied I was going to ask you to come back up to my place. Because I want to ask you to come back up to my place. But I’m not going to ask you to come back up to my place.” 

“I know, Temi. It’s our first real date. And you have work in the morning. And there’s no rush. We should enjoy getting to know each other.”

“Those are… the reasons, yes. How did you already know them?” asked Mari, sounding a little surprised. “Am I a walking cliché?”

“Those are just my reasons.”

“Ah,” said Mari and sat up a little as the server dropped off their drinks. She reached for hers and took a long sip and then turned the glass in her hand a few times, studying the facets of it thoughtfully before speaking again. “I really love your accent. Have I mentioned it? I listened to that voicemail that you left me like five times.” 

Coming from nowhere, the compliment, and the revelation that Mari had spent time seeking out the sound of her voice, hit Bisi squarely in the center of her chest, burning a little as it sank in. This Omega…

Mari gave the glass another turn, took another sip, and then said, “Wait. What would have happened if I had invited you to come in? Would you have thought less of me?”

Bisi looked at her in alarm, thrown off balance from the sudden shift in topics. Straight from gratifying to dangerous. “Because you asked me to come in? Do I look crazy? Of course I would have been thrilled. But I was not expecting you to, and, for the list of reasons that we apparently share, I still think it would probably not be the best idea. But I would have accepted, I imagine. I mean…look at you, Marisol. Who could say no to you? Better if you just don’t invite me in and we don’t test my resolve.”

“That is…wow! That is a very good answer,” said Mari picking up her drink again.

“Was that a test?”

“No, I was just curious about your thinking, honestly. I have experienced a wide array of first date endings, and not everyone is as…flexible…as you. Obviously you must have been good at math, you’re a doctor, so… let’s say I was just trying to plot your point on the graph.”

Even if their failures had been a necessary condition for her to be sitting here with her mate, Bisi yearned for a moment alone with whoever had been inflexible at the end of a first date with Marisol. 

They sat and chatted and laughed and flirted for another hour and a half and a second drink for each of them. Knowing Mari had an early morning, Bisi signaled to the waiter for the check a little before eleven. He brought it and Bisi tucked a couple of bills into the folder and told him to keep the change. Then they stood and she helped Mari back into her coat. The car was parked about a block from the bar.

“Do you want to wait here and I’ll bring the car up?” Bisi offered, chivalrously.

“No, I don’t mind the walk at all. The cold air will be good for me. I’m feeling that second drink a little. Well, if you count the wines we tried at dinner, it was more than that…” Mari said, buttoning up her coat.

This suited Bisi fine, because as the clock wound down on their evening, she wanted every last second with Mari she could get. They stepped out of the warm bar and into the chilly air and made  a left, walking side by side. “I think this was the best date I’ve ever been on. I should have dated more female Alphas, maybe,” said Mari, thoughtfully. “They weren’t beating down my door, though, if I’m honest. They tend to like the guys. You know how it is.”

Bisi’s eyebrows flew together. “No, you should absolutely, positively, under no circumstances have dated more female Alphas, Temi. One of them could have been smart. Nor should you date any after me.” Or anyone after me, she tacked on mentally. “I can be the Alpha and the Omega, as they say.” 

On a bubble of laughter, Mari said, “Oh, nice! Very biblical.”

“Thank you. The Sisters would be so surprised to hear that I have retained some of my religious training.”

“I’m not criticizing, but some might argue that it was a slightly blasphemous application of the Bible,” Mari ventured to point out.

“That would not be so surprising to them, I fear,” said Bisi with a sad sigh. 

This made Mari laugh until she staggered slightly, and Bisi reached over to steady her, grinning hugely, “Easy, Temi. I need your ankles to be in prime condition for the drive on Tuesday. I’ll be nervous all day.”

Mari gave her an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me? Don’t worry! I drive all the time. Not right now obviously, because,” and she twirled her finger in a circle at the side of her head, to indicate her mild inebriation. “But I have a Class B CDL, baby. I can legally drive all kinds of things! You never know! Especially with weddings, you never know. And my car is super safe, too. Gotta be safe.”

“You do gotta be safe, miss. So can you drive like… a school bus?”

“Yep! Air brakes? No problem!”

“Interesting. Do they have to put blocks on the pedals so your feet can reach them?” Bisi teased. 

“You saying I’m short? Who do you think you’re fooling with? Say that to my face! I’m five-two! That’s almost average,” said Mari giving her head an impressively aggressive little jerk in Bisi’s direction. 

The head pop set Bisi off. She threw her hands up and waved them in front of her, laughing uproariously as she surrendered unconditionally. “No, Temi, no! I am afraid for my life! You are so tall.”

“Tch,” said Mari, and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“Tch?” queried Bisi.

“Tch!” Mari insisted.

“Mtchewwww.” Bisi responded, drawing it out a little extra for style points.

“Niiice!” said Mari, sounding sincerely impressed.

“Thank you!”

“I don’t want to go home. I have to, but I don’t want to,” Mari said sadly.

“I know exactly how you feel. That’s right where I am on taking you home.” 

“I hate golf. ¿Sabes? I despise it. I go comatose at the sound of a golf game on television. It’s incredibly problematic, too, at least in the US. All those de facto segregated clubs and courses? All those Good Ol’ Boy vibes? I would so much rather spend the weekend hanging out with you. I miss weekends.”

“Maybe it’s time for a change?” Bisi dared to suggest, thinking that if Mari wanted to change towns or anything else at the same time that she was changing careers…Bisi had some thoughts. 

“Maybe so,” sighed Mari. “Maybe so.”