Sheason Fisher sat at the bar, quietly sipping at his mug of Nethergarde Bitter. He scratched at his grey beard, and watched the game unfold at the table in the middle of the room. The game wasn't the only thing going on tonight, but it was certainly the most interesting, especially since the night was pretty young.

Then again, it was The Inventory. Time... didn't really work the same way here as everywhere else.

"Ah, there you are!" Sheason heard the perky female voice seconds before a heavy metal gauntlet slapped him on the shoulder. Sure enough, Tuera's smiling face greeted him when he turned. Her goggles were sitting atop her head, letting her ice-blue eyes glow for all to see. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

"Hey, Tu," Sheason said, setting his mug of pale ale back down onto the bar. "You know, for someone who wears as much armor as you do, you sure have learned to be real quiet the last few years."

"Well, you know," Tuera shrugged, her heavy shoulder armor clinking with a metallic rustle. "I learned from the best."

"Aw, that's kind of you to say," Sheason began, a smile creeping into his bearded face.

"Pity you were busy that day." Tuera smirked, sitting down on the barstool next to him.

Sheason's eye twitched, and he started choking on his beer.

"Hey, Mox!" Tuera waved at Moxxi, ignoring Sheason's floundering attempts to collect himself and look nonplussed. "I'm dyin' of thirst here, you're my only hope!"

"I got ya covered, honey," Moxxi smiled from her spot behind the bar, sauntering over to the two of them. "Want your usual?"

"Mmm... not tonight, I think," Tuera shook her head, grabbing her goggles and setting them on the bar. "Got any hard cider? Maybe a shot of Jack?" Moxxi nodded knowingly, and bent down to reach under the bar, giving both Sheason and Tuera an intentionally exaggerated view of her exposed décolletage.

"One Applejack Daniels comin' right up... sugarcube," Moxxi chuckled to herself as she grabbed the bottles, and Tuera couldn't help but sigh.

"So," Tuera grabbed hold of her drink, and spun in her stool until she was facing Sheason again. "What's the game today? Doesn't look like poker..."

"Nah. It's D&D tonight," Sheason said, having finally regained his dignity. Tuera looked over at him like he'd gone completely mad.

"You're kidding!" Tuera said with a laugh. She looked at the game unfolding, and shook her head.

"You seem confused," Sheason said, pointing out the obvious.

"Well, I am, a bit…" Tuera chuckled. "I guess I just didn't expect D&D to be one of the games offered here. I thought The Inventory was more about games of chance?"

"Clearly, you've never played D&D before if you think it's not a game of chance," Sheason chuckled softly into his beer. "Hell, you should've been here earlier. There was a Hearthstone tournament in full swing. I think people are prepping for that Whispers of the Old Gods thing that's coming out later."

"That's... nuts. They're making another Hearthstone expansion?" Tuera kept shaking her head.

"What can I say, Blizzard needs a couple new wings on its golden money palace," Sheason smirked, and raised his stein. Tuera laughed, and toasted her glass with his.

"Alright, so who all's playing tonight?"

"Well, there's John Shepard at one end of the table," Sheason said, pointing at the man still wearing N7 armor. "I'm sure you recognize him. He rolled up a fighter. Natch. Next to him, the two Venture boys are taking turns playing a bard. Carol Danvers decided to roll up a half-dragon paladin of Bahamut. Over there is the Sniper from Team Fortress 2 - I expected him to play a ranger, but he ended up making a sorcerer, strangely enough… oh, and Silent Bob is playing some obscure prestige class. He found the rules in a dusty old sourcebook he picked up from a strip mall in Jersey. I think psionics are involved. It's going to get messy."

"Alright... so who's the squiggly looking dude with the black hat behind the screen?" Tuera asked, pointing at the figure at the end of the table; his two-dimensional outline moved constantly, even though he was standing still.

"That's Double-D. He volunteered to DM the whole thing. That's why he's standing in-between those two piles of notes as big as he is."

"Double-D?" Tuera asked, a bit confused. "He doesn't look like a girl with two-"

"No, no, that- that's this name," Sheason said hurriedly. "It's Edd. E-D-D. You know, Edd? From Ed, Edd and Eddy?" Tuera just kept looking at him with a blank stare. "What, did you never watch that cartoon?"

"No… no, not really…" Tuera said absentmindedly, scratching her head.

"Well, if you wanna swing by my safehouse later, it's on Netflix," Sheason leaned back, taking another sip from his stein. Tuera shook her head and scoffed.

"Netflix..." she laughed. "You, my friend, have gone native. Are you ever coming back to Azeroth? I mean, Legion is coming out in a few months. A new expansion is always a good time to get back into the swing of things."

"I wasn't interested in coming back for Warlords of Draenor," Sheason said. "And I completely missed the Magical Adventures in Panda Land, as you know."

"That always surprised me," Tuera furrowed her brow. "I remember that story you told me about going to Pandaria as a sort of celebration, after busting out of that one dragonkin's gladiator arena."

"Well, yeah. But the Pandaria I went to doesn't exist anymore. Blizzard retconned it out of existence when they created the new one. All that stuff with the Shado-Pan, and the Sha, and all that nonsense? None of that was there before."

There was a very long, extended silence.

"Are you sure you're not misremembering this, Fisher?" Tuera asked with a furrowed brow. "Sounds to me like a side effect of all those head injuries you got fighting the Shark-People from the Planet Outlandish."

"Look," Sheason said forcefully and set down his bitter. "Even if I wanted to come back to Azeroth or Outland or Draenor or whatever the hell is the focus of the current World of Warcraft expansion... you know why I can't come back."

"Not really," Tuera said. "I don't think you ever properly explained it."

"The Warlock," Sheason growled out. That just made Tuera look more confused.

"Wait, you mean Ashama? My clone?" Sheason nodded. "Oh, c'mon! You're seriously still worried about her? We haven't heard a peep from her in years!"

"I know." Sheason gritted his teeth and turned back to the bar, taking hold of his stein. "Do you remember the last time she made a move on us?"

"You mean apart from all those times she's beaten you in poker here?" Tuera smirked. Sheason just scowled.

"I'm not talking about The Inventory," he grumbled. "C'mon, you know how weird the rules are here. This place is..." Sheason waved his hands, like that would help him come up with the words. "... it's in-between... everything. You can go to almost any world from here, but anything that happens here doesn't really count. I meant the last time it was canon." Tuera clicked her tongue in annoyance when he finished.

"Of course I remember," she said. "She blew up your apartment in Shattrath and sent all those goons to kill us."

"And you remember what happened next?" Sheason asked, rhetorically. He was trying to make a point, and it was just annoying Tuera.

"I hit 'Random' on my wrist teleporter to get out of there, like you told me," she scowled right back at him. "I ended up in the Wailing Caverns! When I finally found my way back to Stormwind, you were nowhere in sight." Sheason nodded.

"That's because I'd left Azeroth entirely. I came here. It's an old trick I learned, back in the time between the Second and Third wars: if someone wants to kill you, go to a place where killing you is against the rules. But I kept my ear to the ground, and waited until she made her next move. And then I noticed something interesting..."

"Sheason," Tuera cut him off, clearly at the end of her rope. "You know I love you. But I hate it when you go all Columbo on me like this. What are you leading up to?" Sheason grumbled a little, but decided she was right: he needed to get to the point.

"When I left, it's like Ashama just stopped. She hasn't made a move to try and kill you, she hasn't tried to enact any nefarious plans or destroy Stormwind or any of her usual shenanigans. I think all those times I kept killing her, and then she just kept coming back... it must have... I dunno, triggered something inside her head, maybe. All she cares about now is getting revenge on me, and nothing else."

"And that's why you think you have to stay away?" Tuera asked, leaning against the bar. Sheason shrugged.

"You said it yourself. We haven't heard a peep from her in years."

"Sheason..." Tuera leaned forward, and placed an armored gauntlet on Sheason's thigh, and paused for effect before speaking again: "That's bullshit."

"Maybe..." Sheason chuckled. Tuera hung her head, sighed, and went back to leaning against the bar.

"Ah well... I just thought I'd ask."

"Alright, spill," Sheason turned to look at her. "What's really on your mind?" Tuera shrugged.

"I dunno... I just..." she grimaced, inhaling sharply through her teeth. "I guess I just miss... I miss us." Sheason raised an eyebrow.

"What're you talking about?" he asked. "We're still..." he paused, suddenly unsure of himself. "I mean... unless something drastic has changed since last Sunday, we're still a thing, aren't we?"

"No, that's not what I..." Tuera rubbed her temple. "Do you remember what it was first like with us? When we got together, right before the Cataclysm? Things were... simple."

Very slowly, Sheason turned his head to look over at her. Had she gone completely batty-nuggets?

"Tu, we've been many things over the years, but simple?" He couldn't help but laugh a little. "Simple has never been in the cards."

"Okay, not simple-simple, but, just..." Tuera sighed. "I guess I just miss hanging out with you whenever I wanted. I miss the two of us being on the same plane of existence, y'know? Every time I want to see you, I've gotta do some stupid Morris-dance, 'fall at the ground and miss' kinda thing just to get to this crazy place." Tuera shook her head and reached for her drink. "I guess I just miss us."

"So you really want me to come back to Azeroth, then?" Sheason asked. "Risk Ashama and all of her crazy minions coming out of the woodwork, trying to kill us every day, every night?" Tuera snorted.

"C'mon, we can take her."

"No," Sheason said, suddenly very, very serious. "We can't. I tried killing her for years. I lost count of all the times I put her down, and she just kept getting back up. Nothing took. If I come back to Azeroth, she'll know. She'll hunt us down. She won't stop." Sheason sighed. "It won't end."

"Well... yeah," Tuera chuckled, not taking him seriously at all. "But that's just because of the Theory of Narrative Causality. 'Things happen because the plot says they should.' If she wasn't there to fight us, things would be boring – just like they've been for the last few years while you've been hiding out here. Trust me, we'll be fine." She reached up and placed an armored hand against his cheek. "Come back to Azeroth. Come back to me..."

"Y'know..." Moxxi's voice wafted through the air, grabbing both Sheason and Tuera's attention. "The two of you are acting like Azeroth is your only solution."

"Wait, what?" Sheason said, suddenly surprised. Moxxi chuckled, and leaned against the bar on her elbows.

"Sorry for eavesdropping. But I feel the need to live up to my whole 'bartender' persona," she made finger-quotes in the air on either side of her top hat. "It's time for me to dole out some sagely, sexy wisdom for once. And I think I might have a solution for you two lovebirds."

"What kind of solution?" Tuera asked, suddenly curious.

"You want to be together, and you don't want that Warlock to cause trouble for you, right? Well, you can go anywhere and anywhen you want from The Inventory. As it happens, I've got a few jobs on Pandora lined up. The coin is good, and it should be fun! And from there..." Moxxi traced one of the coasters on the bar with a finger. "Who knows where things might lead?"

Sheason and Tuera looked at each other, and you could almost hear the gears turning in their heads.

"Well?" Sheason was the one to break the silence, as he cracked a smile. "What do you think?"

"Yeah... yeah, it could be fun..." Tuera nodded slowly, but furrowed her brow. "But... what if you're wrong? What if we both leave Azeroth, and Ashama just... goes nuts? What then?"

Sheason tapped his chin, thinking for a few seconds.

"You said Legion is coming in a few months, right?" he asked. Tuera nodded. "The way I see it... there is nothing Ashama can do that isn't already being done. If she really wants to start something, she can be somebody else's problem."

"You won't have to worry about that Warlock following you, either," Moxxi interrupted. "It's not like I'll tell her where you've gone. Bitch still owes me money from our last poker game."

Sheason and Tuera looked at each other again. She smiled up at him broadly, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Sheason reached up, caressing her cheek with his thumb softly, and drew her in close.

"Let's go somewhere."