There was a hot private investigator, with intense blue eyes, an issue about a jewel, running and hiding, deep-sea fishing (why?), and Alan Rickman was the bad guy. The PI jumped off a bridge to escape, and we hid in a bush, before being found (Alan Rickman sneered, “Pathetic.” while dangling my antique ruby heart-shaped pendant in front of me); the PI gazed into my eyes as he helped me pick up my grandmother’s jewelry, scattered thoughtlessly by Alan Rickman across the dirt trail in the forest, and I knew that he was The One. He made a few jokes, to try to lighten the mood in spite of our danger, and promised to take me on a date. I wanted to tell him that he was The One, but it was too early in our relationship. The PI – he looked kind of like James McAvoy, but darker.
It was the kind of dream that you want to stay in, to see where it goes (ahem!), how it will end. Unfortunately, I had to wake up. But I wrote it all down, and more, and I will have to revisit it to see what happens next!