I.M. Girl

A Dreamseeker tale by Tony

The dialogue box popped up in front of Dace.

"Hi!"

Dace stared at the instant message. Someone named "I.M. Girl" was attempting written communication. Dace searched for his pointer while contemplating blocking out this person.

"I saw your profile ... Dace. You seem like a real handsome guy!"

"Oh yeah," Dace muttered, "you're definitely gone."

"So ... how 'bout we meet?"

Dace was stunned. He had not responded, and this "Girl" wanted to meet him?

"Um ... what?"

"I think your cute!"

Dace composed himself.  He would not allow this person to invade his bedroom, his computer, or his mind.

"Riiiiiiight."

"Look: I'm 5'2", 100 pounds, petite build, with gorgeous blonde hair. I make Buffy jealous, okay?"

"How did she know...." Dace whispered to his monitor, a second wave of shock passing through him.  He wanted to get up and turn the lights on, but he couldn't find the strength. 

"Um ... who? What?"

"Look," typed I.M. Girl, "I'm a big fan of your work, DREAMSEEKER. I know ALL about what you've done. I just ... want a chance to meet you. Maybe....

"Maybe I could help you out."

Dace couldn't believe it. Very few people knew who he actually was, and of those, only because he allowed them to know. Other than that, and a few supernaturals walking the earth, nobody knew that Dace was the Dreamseeker.

Dace had to get to the bottom of this. He quickly checked her online profile -- 19 years old, blonde ... just as she described. So, this person was smart enough to construct a false profile.

"You've got the wrong person," responded Dace.

"I don't think so."

"Sorry."

Dace closed the dialogue box, and disconnected his internet connection. He'd had enough of bogus I.M.'s.  He left his bedroom, and walked down the hall to his kitchen. 

His cell-phone rang. Dace pulled it out of his pocket and stared at the screen -- he didn't recognize the number.

"Hello?"

"You thought you could get away from me that easy?"

"..."

"I know you're there. Look: I just want to meet, okay?"

Dace's mind raced. She definitely SOUNDED like a 19-year-old. Only the Traveller could impersonate voices like this, and he was out of town. This had to be real.

"Alright. We'll meet at Border's -- tomorrow night, at 8:30."

There was a pause before I.M. Girl responded, "Okay."

"One thing: I need to know your real name."

"And I need to know that you're the Dreamseeker."

"I guess you'll find tomorrow, if you'll tell me your name."

Another pause, and then, "Jessica. Jessica Ryan."

"Okay," said Dace, as he scribbled the name on a napkin, "Jessica Ryan. I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be wearing the French beret."

***

Dace sat in the crowded cafe with his chai tea latte. A lot of college students were there, studying and chatting. There was a long line at the counter, and laughter from the Goth cashier who seemed to know everybody.

A blonde girl walked up. She was wearing a pink t-shirt with a lollipop emblazoned on her chest, and a plaid miniskirt, with jet-black, knee-high boots. The shades on her face were too much for Dace -- he started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Jessica asked.

Dace calmed down, and offered Jessica a seat.

"Okay," Jessica commented, "I guess you're the silent type."

"What can you help me with?"

"Well, to understand that, I guess I'd better explain first. You see, I've been having some trouble with my boyfriend.."

Dace rolled his eyes, and began to get up.

"No, wait!" Jessica implored. "You've got to hear my story!" she said, grabbing Dace's arm.

Dace turned and said, "I don't deal in domestic affairs." He released himself and walked out of the bookstore. Jessica ran out and caught up with him in the parking lot.

"Please! You don't understand!"

Jessica slammed her hips into the door of Dace's black Toyota Avalon, preventing him from getting in.

"Do you mind?"

"You think I went through all this trouble just to get help with a domestic affair? I know you don't care about that sort of thing."

"Oh, really? And how do you know that?"

"My sister. I know what you tried to do for her."

Dace looked at Jessica again. He examined her facial features. He reached and removed her sunglasses without permission. Jessica was jittery, but unmoving -- she let Dace continue to stare.

Dace looked her up and down, and then again into her eyes before finally recognizing the family resemblance. He shuddered at the name that appeared in his mind.

"Julie."

"Yes. Now you remember. I know better than to mess with you. I really need your help, and I think you'd like a second chance to help out our family. Now will listen to my story?"

Dace leaned against his car, suddenly weary, and dropped his head, chin against chest.

"Okay."

"My boyfriend's a sports nut. Football, baseball, basketball -- you name it, he loves it. He knows all the players, all the stats. A real expert.

"Well, recently, he figured he could make some cash, using his expertise. He started using this online bookie.

"It's been terrible, Dace. He's lost every bet. And the further in the hole he gets, the more games he bets on.

"Now, he's getting phone calls. He came to me crying two nights ago. He said something about 'the Gambler's coming.' And then I thought about you.

"You met my sister in Vegas. She worked at one of the casinos. You tried to help her, but the Gambler got to her first. She called me before she ... you know, disappeared. She told me about the Gambler, and how horrible he was. And she told me about you."

"I told her my name," said Dace, "in case she ever got into trouble. I never thought the Gambler would ... I mean, I thought she'd be okay."

"I'm not here to blame you, but my boyfriend needs your help. I love him, Dace, and only you know how to deal with the Gambler."

"You don't understand. There's only one thing he's interested in -- money. And he'll stop at NOTHING to recover what he's owed."

"Yeah, but you've fought against the Gambler. You know what his weaknesses are. There's got to be a way!"

Dace stared hard at the asphalt for a moment, contemplating, before finally responding.

"Maybe, but your boyfriend's going to have to gamble one more time."

A cold breeze cut through the parking lot outside Seminole Casino. The parking lot was half-full; plenty of people trying to make easy money at two in the morning. Outside, the lot was quiet and dark.

Dace stepped out of his car. Jessica and Tommy walked up to him. Dace nodded at Tommy, and then walked out into the open. Tommy followed, while Jessica leaned against Dace's car, watching.

In the distance, the silhouette of three men appeared from behind a black limousine. The three walked closer, and then stopped about fifteen feet from Dace and Tommy. Dace recognized the Gambler, and assumed the other two were bodyguards.

"So," said the Gambler, "I see you've got the Dreamseeker with you, Tommy. It won't do you any good. Besides, I told you to come alone."

"I've got a proposition for you, Gambler," yelled Dace.

"Oh no, Dreamseeker. You're not getting me involved in some crazy scheme. The kid owes me money. That's the bottom line."

"Well...."

"And he's gonna pay. One way, or the other."

"I knew you wouldn't be man enough to bet me."

"Man enough? Of course I'm man enough to bet! You're the one who ain't man enough!"

"Oh yeah? Well let's bet on this, Gambler: the outcome of tonight."

"What do you mean?"

"I bet you don't know how things are going to end tonight, but I'm pretty confident I know."

"What? Ha! It's pretty obvious how things are gonna end tonight! The kid's gonna be wearing cement shoes, and you'll be lucky if you don't join him."

"I don't think so. As a matter of fact, I think nobody gets hurt tonight. I'm betting you're going back to Vegas, and you're going to forgive this kid of the debt he owes you."

"Are you crazy? I think I'll take that bet -- but first you're gonna tell me what's on the line here."

"You win, you get to kill Tommy...."

"Hey, nobody said anything about killing."

"Fine. You'll give him cement shoes..."

"That's better."

"And I'll go back to Vegas with you. I'll give you 24 hours to convince me to gamble."

"Hmph. Okay. Go on."

"And if I win, you forgive Tommy's debts, you go back to Vegas, and ..."

"And?"

"... and you give me all the information you have on the Soul Patrol."

"I'll give you 1 name and file, and that's it."

"4."

"1, or no deal."

Dace sighed, and finally agreed.

"Not that it matters, Dace, cause I'm taking the kid, right now! Boys, get him!"

The bodyguards ran towards Tommy. Dace threw two pellets, one at each bodyguard. They exploded on contact, and instantly stopped the guards. Their bodies collapsed to the ground.

"So, this is how you gamble, huh, Dace?  Cheater!"

"They'll be okay."

"I'll squash you like a bug!"

The Gambler bull-rushed Dace. Dace sidestepped at the last moment, and tripped the Gambler, who slammed face-first into the parking lot.

"You bastard!" grunted the Gambler, blood streaming from his nose and lips.  He rolled onto his back and looked up at Dace, fire in his eyes.

"Just because you've never seen me fight doesn't mean I can't handle myself. Now, get out of here, Gambler."

***

Two days later, Dace stopped by his P.O. box, and received a package. Inside was a file on Eva Reichensteiner, and a note, which read:

"You're a good gambler, kid. Better than I thought. I give you credit -- that stunt you pulled the other night took guts. Three against one -- those are tough odds!

"But remember, I'll be watching you. One of these days, you're going to take a risky bet, and when you do, I'll be there to collect!"

***

Dace was surfing the web that night when he got instant messaged.

"Hi!"

"Hello, Jessica."

"Dace, I just wanted to thank you again for what you did for Tommy."

"You can thank me by making sure he stays out of trouble."

"I hope you feel better about Julie."

"I can never make up for what happened to Julie. I'm just glad I could help your boyfriend."

"Right. About my boyfriend: now that all this is over, I've decided to break-up with Tommy. He was ... holding me back."

"What?"

"Yes. I was wondering ... would you like to go out sometime? On a date?"

Dace immediately shut off his computer. He'd seen enough of the internet for one evening.

The phone rang. Dace hung it up, and shut it off.