The Crossroads

It had been a long time since he'd been here. Nothing had changed. Gingerly, he pushed open the creaking door and peered into the raucous crowd within. Smiling, he wove in between the press of bodies, citizens of a thousand realities, all convening here, on the cross-roads between worlds, to put their feet up and let their hair down. He slung his heavy pack to the floor, and settled into a tall stool at the old, battered bar. "One house ale," he called across to the serving girl, who shot him a glance and then busied herself with his order. "And a room for one. I'll be staying indefinately." Grinning, he knocked back the frothing tankard and shoved the keys into an inside pocket in his leather jerkin. This was home.

Harrison settled himself between a girl (he hoped) and ordered a cocktail. "So," he smiled across at the mottled blue face of his drinking companion. "So." She looked at him coldly, and fluttered her gossamer wings at him in a distinctly unfriendly manner.
"Aaw, c'mon. Lighten up, girl. Here, I'll buy you a drink." Harrison waved a hand to call over the flustered serving girl and ordered another one of "whatever the lady's drinking" and put an arm around the girl's bared shoulders. She didn't shrug it away.
"Hey, so, tell me about yourself." He flashed her his most winning smile. A sudden whoosh of air made him start, and he looked down to see a steel crossbow bolt embedded firmly in the bar, a matter of inches away from his body. It was still quivering. A heavy hand fell on his shoulder and he jumped in his seat.
"The pleasure is all mine, I'm sure." This was the girl, only now she was smiling, an unnerving look of anticipation. "I'd like to introduce you to my fiancee, wrestling champion in fourteen galaxies, K'noll."
There was an empty place where Harrison had been sitting only moments ago, and the door swung on it's hinges.