Babysitting
Spike was waiting in the living room when Dawn came through the door. “So, how was your first night’s work, Bit? Your sis had to go out, so I thought you might like someone to talk to when you got home.” He turned to see the young woman panting and distraught, tears running down her face. “What happened?”
“Mr. Evans, he, he drove me home from b-babysitting. Oh, Spike,” she was sobbing now. He rushed over to her and held her in his arms. “It was...it was awful.”
“Let it out, pet.”
“He, he tried to touch me. He, oh god, he kissed me. I, I pushed him away, and got out of the car. I r-ran home. All the way, I thought he was right behind me, but I don’t think he followed m-me.” She looked into Spike’s eyes. “I didn’t encourage him. I swear it. He kept telling me how pretty I am. He...oh god.”
“I’ll rip his bloody head off.”
“No!” she exclaimed. “Just let it go. Don’t tell Buffy. Please, don’t. His wife, she teaches at my school. It would be too awful. Don’t tell.”
“And what about the other girls he’s done this to.”
“Just don’t tell.” She hugged him closer. “Please.”
Spike stood in front of the house until a middle-aged man walked towards his car. He was short, stocky and balding; nondescript. “Going somewhere?” asked Spike, taking the keys from the man’s hand.
“Who...?”
“I’m a friend of Dawn Summers. You know her. Little girl you tried to rape tonight?” Spike said coldly.
“What, you her boyfriend?”
“I said I’m her friend.” He grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, and blinked back the pain flaring behind his eyes. “I should kill you.”
“Did the little bitch tell you she stole ten dollars from my dresser?”
Spike considered this. It was highly likely, knowing Dawn. It explained why she didn't want Buffy to know. “I see. And that entitles you to cop a feel from a fifteen-year-old girl? Try it again, with anyone, and they’ll be picking little pieces of you off the ground for days.” He smiled. “Or maybe I should just tell Mrs. Evans?”
“You don’t scare me.”
Spike allowed his eyes to flash yellow. “Really? I should.” He let go of the man, pushing him back as he did. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with. I’ll be watching you, mate, and any little repeat of tonight and you’ll wish you were in hell.” He wiped his hands on his jeans. “Nice meetin’ you.”
The man’s hands shook as he turned the key and opened his car door. They shook all the way out of town.