girl trouble

The brisk night air was refreshing as he slid down his grapple line. Patrols this time of year were particularly enjoyable because the mild temperature was that perfect balance that made being outside a true pleasure. The roof of the next building was just seven stories below and his grip on the grapple line did a perfect job of slowing his descent to a manageable speed. The line was one of the few gadgets Dealer depended upon. He preferred to let his highly trained martial arts prowess protect him from the threats of the night.

The gentle impact of his padded boots made no sound and he picked up a stealthy prowl. The rooftop was familiar; he knew every nook and cranny. It was an easy task to duck between blind spots on the roof until he knew it was clear of danger. He quickly coiled up the line from his grapple gun in preparation to reload it as he moved between the various ventilation and exhaust shafts. Sensing a presence, he ducked down into the shadow of a tall ventilation shaft, shoving his still uncoiled grapple line into a hidden cargo pocket.

"The roof is clear, Dealer." A stoic, familiar voice broke the silence. On the far side of the roof - at the building's corner - stood a recognizable figure.

"Ebon Ranger." Dealer was not completely surprised to see the other vigilante. The pair had first met on this very rooftop nearly a decade earlier. At that time they were both young and anxious. Not knowing each others' intentions, they had fought that night. After fighting to a standstill, both men were left exhausted and with a profound respect for each other.

"Haven't seen you since our little run-in with the Syndicate." Together, they had recently busted a growing and dangerous criminal empire. In the nine years since their first meeting, they had combined from time to time to defeat several of the city's numerous enemies.

"Been a little busy with some things. Nothing too serious." Dealer took note of some slight changes to Ebon Ranger's costume as he joined him on the opposite edge of the building's corner. Ranger's outfit was made up of layers of leather, some hardened and resistant to impact. His arsenal relied heavily on a variety of high tech equipment and other gadgets.

Dealer faced out and scanned the city skyline. "How have you been, Ranger?"

"Things are fine." It was pretty normal for Ebon to be short; it kind of went with his persona in costume. The man usually took a few minutes to remember that they knew each other a little better than that. They had seen other heroes come and go. They had seen it all. They had even told each other their first names - a rarity amongst the vigilantes of the night. Identities were dangerous, well guarded commodities.

"So, Ben, anything interesting happening on the east side?" Ranger asked.

One of the reasons they had become friends, Dealer was sure, was that their territory overlapped at only this spot. Strangely, to many of the city's protectors, territory was every bit as important as it was to the ruthless gangs they fought. Younger vigilantes often end up coming to blows over things as silly as territory.

"I was running with Ivory Guardian for a couple of weeks a while back. He had a line on some new drug syndicate that was setting up operations in the southeast."

"I heard about that." Ranger's voice showed his excitement at the thought of bashing a drug ring. "You guys put that to bed fast!"

Dealer didn't do the work for accolades from guys like Ebon Ranger, but he did appreciate it. "Thanks, bud. You want to hear something interesting?"

"Sure. . ." Ranger wasn't sure what Dealer was about to reveal.

"I also got to meet Ivory's boyfriend. . ."

"Really?" Ranger's shock quickly receded. "I would have never guessed."

"He's a real nice guy and was trying to get into the biz himself. They seemed happy together." To them "the biz" was their obsession with patrolling the streets and dispensing justice to the elements of their city that managed to stay outside of the law.

"How is the west side, Will?" Dealer asked. He could tell that Ebon Ranger was holding something back. He was pretty sure it was nothing serious, or Ranger would not have been standing on the roof corner wasting time. "Anything I can help you with?"

"Ehhh. . . nothing in the biz."

"What's up, Will?" Dealer was intrigued.

Ebon Ranger looked into the night sky for a long minute.

"Barbara left me."

Dealer felt a far too familiar pain in his own chest at the words of his fellow vigilante.

"I got home the other night and she was there waiting. She asked where I had been, and when I told her my standard line. . . well. . . she just flipped out."

"I'm sorry, Will." Dealer knew it was little help. "If it makes you feel any better, Marcy and I broke up three weeks ago."

"What?" Ranger looked over at his fellow vigilante. "But you two were doing great! What happened?"

"The Ambrosia heist."

"I remember reading about that. You really tore her apart!"

"Yeah, well, that night was also our three month anniversary." A long pause from Dealer did little to hide the regret in his voice. "It was not the first, nor the fifth time I had to stand her up. But she made sure it was the last."

"Well, that one lasted a couple weeks longer that the previous one, right?" Ebon Ranger tried to help his colleague find an upside to the situation. "Maybe the next one will get. . . who am I kidding? Nothing ever changes, does it?"

"No, it doesn't."

"So how many does that make it? I'm up to thirty-five. I think."

Dealer quickly tried to count the number of failed relationships he had had in the last decade. "Sounds about right to me."

"It's so frustrating. I can drop onto a crowd of genetically enhanced terrorists and save the city and more, but I can't keep something as simple as a relationship with a woman alive for more than a couple weeks." Ebon Ranger's fists balled up in frustration.

"You can't blame them though," Ebon Ranger continued. "Who would really want to stick around when you miss all the important dates and are constantly late? I can't begin to imagine how many birthdays, anniversaries, or family events I have missed with the various women who have tried to make a go of it with me. The only way to get rid of them quicker would be to tell them the truth. . ."
Dealer looked up at the sky and watched the twinkling stars. They appeared much more visible through his night vision goggles than they ever would to the naked eye. "Too bad we're not real stars."

"What? Ben, are you losing it?"

"Nah. I meant like Hollywood celebrities."

"OK. . . Ben, are you losing it?" Will glanced up at the same overhead stars.

"I just mean that they always seem to be breaking up, but it doesn't seem to faze them. It's just so easy for them to find someone new. Our lives are so. . . solitary. It's so hard to find someone who can adjust long enough to your schedule for you to feel safe in letting them in on your secret. If only there were. . ."

Ebon Ranger looked over at his fellow vigilante to find him still staring up at the stars. "What's going on? Are you all right?"

"It's just that. . . that's it!"

"What is it, Ben?" Ranger wondered if his associate was losing his mind right there on the rooftop.

"Will, just like Hollywood celebrities, our only chance of success in our private lives is to find someone who can identify with our calling in life."

Ebon Ranger gave his fellow vigilante a long, puzzled look.

"What ends all of your relationships?" Dealer's excitement was almost contagious.

"Either my erratic schedule, or all the lies I have to make up to cover my vigilante work."

"Exactly, but what if your girl understood that lifestyle?" Excitement beamed from Dealer's eyes as he lifted up his night vision goggles. "What if she shared that lifestyle?"

"That. . . that is actually an interesting idea."

Both of the vigilantes stood and looked out into the night. Their body language suddenly reflected the positive idea they were sharing. For the first time in a long time they weren't in a constant state of preparedness for combat.

"Now the only problem is finding some women vigilantes."

Dealer felt a little of the moment's joy slip away. The city contained many protectors, each fighting the growing tide of violent lawlessness in their own way, but all of them were men. . . except one.
"There's Dynamite Girl." Dealer felt the name slip out of his mouth before he even considered what he was saying.

"I'm not that big a fan of redheads," Ebon Ranger revealed to his friend.

"Well, for all you know that's a wig. She may not want her enemies to be able to track her down by hair color." Dealer was not actually too fond of red hair, either.

"It's her real hair. We took down Voodoo Shock together about a year ago and she got a good clump of it tore out in the fight. You don't scream like that if someone is ripping the wig off of your head."

"True. I guess that makes her a redhead. Could be worse. . ." Dealer fondly remembered the last time he had teamed up with the female vigilante. Together they stopped a rogue scientist from unleashing an army of tiny robotic insects that would have subtly dismantled the city. "Actually I don't think I have ever dated a redhead. It could be a nice change."

"What do you think she looks like under that mask?" Ebon Ranger continued to scan the buildings on the far side of the street. A light flickered dimly in one of the windows of a business. Usually he would have immediately descended upon the structure to investigate, but his discussion with Dealer was far too distracting.

"I'm guessing that she's not too bad. We ended up taking down Violet Threat a few months back and she mentioned being a television reporter at one time. They don't put you on the air with a third eye or anything."

"Definitely." Ranger found himself nodding with his fellow vigilante's logic. "Besides, she has a great personality. Where else are you going to find a girl not afraid to dive into a mob of dirty street punks on crack? Not to mention that she is in incredible shape."

"You know, I think I remember hearing that she had just broken up with her boyfriend a few months ago, too. Ivory Guardian told me that the boyfriend was a lawyer and that he had gotten suspicious of her late night activities." Dealer began to realize a pattern to all of their problems. "Apparently she was more than a little frustrated with the situation."

"Sounds like she might be the right answer, like she might be the right girl."

"Yeah, not too many girls like that around."

"Yep, she is special like that."

Dealer wasn't sure that his colleague had realized the problem they suddenly had on their hands. Both men had the same problem. Sure they were amazingly successful in their chosen purpose: to rid their city of crime and injustice. But they were equally amazing failures at anything resembling a personal life. And now that they knew what the answer was, there was only one person in the entire city that fit the bill.

An evil thought seeped into the back of Dealer's skull. What if there was only one of them to go after Dynamite Girl? What if the other one was out of the picture? He was torn at the sudden evil thoughts he was having, but it had been so long. It had been more than a decade since his last meaningful relationship with a woman. Will, the Ebon Ranger and the closest thing he had to a friend, stood somewhere behind him and to his right, staring off into the night. But that was still not as important as possibly having a real and loving relationship with a woman.

A menacing urge welled up in Dealer and he spun towards the Ebon Ranger. With little or no effort the man would be off the edge and falling to his doom.

As he spun around, Dealer found himself looking into the visage of his vigilante friend.

Ebon Ranger stood facing him with an outstretched arm. A look of sorrow filled his eyes as his arm poked forward with little force.

The slight blow was more than enough to knock Dealer off balance. He swung his arms wildly in an effort to keep from falling. Failing miserably, he reached for his still uncoiled grapple gun. The loose line would do little to alleviate his current predicament.

"I need her," Ebon Ranger said.

Dealer fell backwards and plummeted the fourteen fatal stories to the unforgiving street below.