Be Mused: An A-MUSE-ing Anthology

"I see that bet and raise you two short stories and a novella to be named later."

Diana squinted at her hand. The three queens screamed call and raise, but Blaine was cagey. You could never tell when she was bluffing. That's what you got when you played poker with a Western Muse. Mina, the paranormal muse, was bad enough, always reading your thoughts, but Blaine was the worst of the lot. At least Kaylianne, the fantasy muse, had shown up to sit in on the game. You could always count on her to liven up the whole thing. Who would've thought the muse who inspired the entirety of modern geekdom could sweep a pot like nobody's business? Being Sisters of the Creative didn't matter when it came to no holds barred poker.

Checking her hand one more time, Diana decided to hell with it. "See that bet and raise you one epic poem."

Kaylianne snickered in her lilting Elven tone. "Blaine, I'd fold if I were you. Young Diana acts as if she has the hand of the night."

"You be quiet you outdated Tolkien ideal. The day Di Di beats me at cards is the day I'll wander up to the Asimovian Ideal and pucker him back to my century." Blaine sounded sure, but from the way she snuck a peek at her cards, Diana thought her sister muse might be about to bet a losing hand. "I'm in."

Kaylianne laid her cards face down on the table. "I fold."

The other two muses had already bowed out of the hand and stood in the corner talking shop. If this were a regular bar, that fact might draw some weird looks from the patrons, but this was the universe's -- well, this universe's -- one and only muse bar. If you were a muse, MUSEum was where everyone knew your name. The first muse, Gael, had opened the place when she retired from the biz. She said after Homer screwed up the Iliad, she'd had enough, though she had been known to dabble when the mood hit her. Diana knew for a fact she'd inspired Stargate: SG-1. Word had it she has a very big thing for Richard Dean Anderson and the series had been her bid to keep him working. Putting him in tight black tee shirts was just a personal bonus. In any case, the proceeds from her semi-retirement kept MUSEum afloat. Muses were notorious moochers and everyone knew it.

Diana looked up as her best friend Jezebelle plopped down beside her at the table. "What's up, girlfriend?"

Jeze took a slurp on her mango daiquiri and grinned. "The usual. Fighting an endless war against the murky snakes of ill repose."

"Are we playing poker or what?" Blaine snapped, thumping the table with a six-shooter. "I have a writer's block to bust loose in the morning."

"Chill pill, Blaine." Jeze twisted her finger in the air and rolled her eyes. "Di Di, take this cow down so we can chat."

Blaine leaned across the table. "Yeah, Di Di, take me down."

Diana spread her cards right under Blaine's nose. "Read 'em and weep."

"Three flipping queens!" The other muse snorted and twisted her nose up like Diana had put a hunk of Limburger under her face.

Diana felt a smirk coming on, and didn't even bother trying to stop it. "Does that mean I've got the pot?"

"I need a drink," Blaine mumbled before collapsing back into her chair.

Gael appeared out of the shadows and towered over the table. "Bar's closed."

"Dammit, Gael, I lost my shirt just now. You can't close."

"I can do whatever I want. I own the joint. In fact MUSEum will be closed for the next four days." Pushing her glasses back up on her nose, she swept the room with her steely gaze. "So you lot can find somebody else to mooch booze off of 'til I get back."

A chorus of voices rang out in protest.

"Don't give me that. This is the first vacation I've had since that mess with Washington Irving. Ain't no way in hell I am staying here with you guys when there's a cruise ship Stargate convention leaving dock in four hours. Richard Dean and me alone on the high seas." Gael went into a swoon. "I'm picturing him, speedos and enough little drinks with umbrellas to make him lose the speedos. So you can understand why I won't be swayed by your puppy dog faces."

"You heard her ladies," Jeni Sai Qua, MUSEum's bouncer, yelled from the door. "You ain't gotta go home, but you sure the heck ain't staying here unless you're part of the cleaning crew."

Diana rose from the table, but couldn't leave without hitting Blaine with one last parting shot. "You can pay up anytime, as long as it's by next week. Come along, Jeze. I'm feeling positively giddy over my victory. Let's go snag a latte and some chocy croissants."

Jeze looked up from her drink. "As long as it's understood you're paying."

Diana sighed. "Don't I always?"

"Well, yeah. That's why I agree to hang out with you." She handed her empty glass to Jeni. "Here, dispose of that for me. There's a good bouncer."

Diana hustled her out the door before the long curved sword in the bouncer's hand could come out. MUSEum was the one place where the saying 'the pen was mightier than the sword' was a bald-faced lie, especially when it happened to be in Jeni Sai Qua's hand.