Author's Note: Terribly sorry it's taken so long to get these chapters uploaded – I had huge trouble getting them written. I have the next few after these planned, but I just couldn't get these to work properly. Hope it was worth the wait!

Chapter Ten

As they walked through the crowded streets towards the Bronze, Dawn's new outfit drew a great many appreciative stares. Spike lazily draped his arm across her shoulders, smirking inwardly when a number of the lustful gazes turned to angry glances in his direction. All thoughts of anyone but Dawn were soon driven from his mind, however, when she tensed up and began to tremble almost imperceptibly.

"What's wrong, pet?" he whispered, stroking her arm soothingly.

"He's looking at me like they did…" Dawn quavered, jerking her head towards one of the gawkers. Spike inspected the man briefly – he looked like a nasty specimen, and the look he was giving Dawn was one of pure chauvinistic pleasure.

His demon craved to rip the man's throat out, as he had done to Dawn's last attacker, but Spike controlled his bloodlust. "You don't have to take that, love," he murmured into her ear. "You're strong, and he is weak and pathetic. Show him."

Her trembling slowed as she pulled herself together. Her eyes narrowed, her jaw tightened, her muscles tensed and her general demeanour changed almost instantly from prey to predator. Slowly, she walked past the man, encouraging him to follow with a enticing sway. Spike, who knew her movements well, could see the control in it, but to a stranger, it must have looked nothing but inviting. The man followed her into a dark alley, a hungry look in his eye, and Spike prowled unnoticed after him.

Dawn stopped and bent over, apparently to adjust her bootlaces, and the man eyed her lasciviously. "Hey, baby, don't move," he leered, stopping right behind her and pressing his crotch flush against her butt. "I can think of just the perfect thing to do while you're in that position." He reached out his hand to fondle her ass but, before it had touched her, she whipped around, almost faster than the eye could follow, and grabbed his wrist.

"Y'know, that's really not very polite," she said, conversationally, holding his hand away from her and twisting his wrist back in a way that looked quite excruciating. Spike smirked.

He tugged his arm out of her grasp and stepped back a pace, a furious expression on his face. "What the hell is your problem, girl? You should be fucking flattered I bothered to even notice you, with that ugly-ass scar. You should be fucking begging me to do whatever I want with you, cos you sure as shit aren't going to find anyone else who will!"

Spike stepped silently from the shadows behind the man, and said quietly, "Is that so?" He paced around him until he reached Dawn, then stood possessively behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He was still wearing his human face, but he allowed his eyes to flash gold as the man glared at him, and enjoyed hearing his pulse race in fear.

"What the fuck are you two playing at?" the man blustered. "Are you mugging me or something?"

"No," Dawn said calmly. "We just noticed your lack of manners when you were leering at me a moment ago, and we thought you might benefit from a basic lesson in etiquette." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a flick knife. It wasn't a particularly impressive looking knife. Its blade was neither curved nor notched, its handle didn't sparkle with jewels or shine metallically. It was a purely functional item, which made it look all the more menacing. She didn't threaten him with it, she simply held it loosely in her hand, but his eyes seemed unable to leave it. She moved closer to him, and he backed away swiftly until he met the wall.

"P-Please," he stammered. "Please don't h-hurt me!"

She leaned towards him and said quietly, "Remember this feeling. This is the way that women feel when you come up behind them in an alley, or corner them in a club bathroom. It's not very nice, is it?" He shook his head frantically. "Now go away." She sank back into Spike's embrace, pocketing the knife again.

The knife's departure seemed to breathe some life back into the man again, and as he turned to leave, he muttered under his breath, "Fucking crazy bitch."

There was a blur of movement, and suddenly Spike was in front of him, blocking his path. "Say that again. I dare you," he whispered menacingly, his teeth lengthening to fangs. With a shriek, the man span around and fled in the opposite direction, leaving them alone in the alley.

As soon as he was gone, Dawn began to giggle uncontrollably. "Did you see his face when he saw the knife?"

Spike grinned broadly. "And there I was, worried that I'd have to reassure you that we were making the world a better place by stopping a potential rapist."

"Screw helping the helpless, I just enjoyed seeing that bastard squirm!"

Spike pulled her into a fierce hug, and whispered, "I love you, pet."

~*~

The Bronze was crowded and noisy, and Dawn faltered in the doorway as they entered. Spike squeezed her hand and whispered in her ear, "You'll be fine, pet. You're strong, remember?" Dawn drew herself up and nodded.

They strode into the darkened club, still holding hands. Dawn looked around, surveying the crowd until she saw Janice on the dance floor. She caught her friend's eye and waved, and Janice rushed over to them. "I thought you'd never get here!" she squealed, then noticed Spike. "Whoa…" She stared at him appraisingly for a long moment, until, embarrassed by the attention, he excused himself and pushed his way towards the bar.

Janice turned back to Dawn and said, "Okay, he is officially a hottie! And look at you tonight! Everyone, and I mean everyone, is totally staring at you. And it's not just the scar, seriously. But, I mean, why didn't you do something to cover it? Like, some make up or something would totally fix it."

"The doctor said to let it air," Dawn said, then changed the subject. "So, was that Lucas I saw you dancing with when I came in?" She didn't want to discuss her scar with anyone. Especially not when Spike's complimentary words were still fresh in her mind. She was starting to feel… not happy, she'd still rather not have it, but… proud of her wound.

So, gossiping normally, they perched on the bar stools and waited for Spike to return with drinks.

~*~

"Don't leave me here on my own," Spike pleaded, looking uncomfortably around at the crowded dance floor.

"I won't be gone long," Dawn said, grinning. "We're not scaling Mount Everest or anything, it's just a trip to the bathroom." She leaned up and kissed him briefly on the cheek, then hurried after Janice towards the toilets.

Spike groaned and sank back down into the sagging old sofa, trying to close his ears against the sound of the band that was currently mangling the songs of The Clash. No, they're not climbing a mountain, but they're two teenage girls going to the loo together to talk about boys – the mountain might be quicker. He glanced back over towards the stairs, hoping against hope to see Dawn returning, and sank even lower into the sofa at the sight of a familiar blonde figure.

If the universe had any sort of flair for drama, they'd be playing 'Should I Stay Or Should I Go' right now, he grumbled silently. All of a sudden, he was very glad that Dawn was in the bathroom – he really did not fancy having to explain to the Slayer what they were doing here together.

"What the hell are you doing here, Spike?" Buffy asked coldly, stopping beside his couch.

"Me?" he asked innocently. "Just having a beer and listening to some punk classics." He winced as the guitar screeched abruptly, then forced his face back into a less pained expression. "What about you, Slayer? Didn't really picture this as your scene."

She scowled at him. "As a matter of fact, Spike, I was looking for you. I just didn't actually expect to find you here. It's a bit loud in here," she added, with a cold smile. "Let's go outside."

His stomach lurching, he followed her towards the fire escape at the back of the club.

"What's this about, Slayer?" he asked as soon as they left the noisy club. Ignoring him, she led him down a deserted alley, then stopped.

"I found something very interesting today," she said, conversationally. "I went by your crypt."

"My crypt?" Spike asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Yes, your crypt," she snapped. "You know, the one in the cemetery. Where all the dead things live."

"Ah. That crypt." Spike didn't bother telling her that he had moved. He didn't really want the Slayer dropping by whenever she or her little groupies needed a favour.

"Yes, that crypt," she sneered. "And I found something very interesting there." She paused and looked at him expectantly. When he didn't react, she feigned a hurt expression. "I'm insulted. I thought that you'd at least pretend that you didn't do it."

"Before I did that, I'd have to know what you're talking about."

He didn't see her move, but suddenly he was pinned against the wall of the alley, and she was pressing a stake inexorably through his ribcage. He tried to shove her away, but his chip seared in pain. He let out a roar and clutched his temples. "Don't play games with me," she snapped, twisting the wood. "I know perfectly well your chip doesn't work."

"What are you talking abo-" He broke off, groaning, as she gave the stake another vicious jerk.

"I found the bodies," she hissed. "You tied them up and slit their throats, and you didn't even bother to hide them. Did you think that we'd never think to look? That we trusted you?" She looked at him in disgust, as though he was something repulsive stuck to the sole of her shoe, fit only to be scraped off and thrown away. "You sicken me, Spike."

"Buffy, no!" Dawn's voice shrieked from the mouth of the alley. She sprinted towards them and cannoned into Buffy, who, taken by surprise, was knocked off balance. She stumbled aside, her stake falling to the ground. Dawn through herself at Spike and hugged him desperately, panic in her every feature.

"It's okay, pet, I'm alright, I promise," he murmured reassuringly.

Buffy staggered to her feet and glared at Dawn. "Get away from him, Dawnie, right now!"

"You were going to kill him!"

"And I still am," Buffy replied, fury in her voice. "He's killing again, Dawnie! His chip is broken! Now get away from him before he hurts you!"

"I would never, ever hurt her," Spike snapped, putting his own arm around Dawn's waist protectively.

"Dawn, you can't believe him, he's a vampire! He has no soul!" Buffy cried desperately. "He's evil again!"

"I was always evil, Slayer," Spike said, derisively.

"Listen to him, Dawn!" Buffy almost shrieked. "How can you want to protect him? He's evil – he admitted it himself! He murdered those poor men in the crypt – he chained them up and cut their throats!"

"Spike only killed one of those men," Dawn said, calmly. "I did the other one."

Buffy stared goggle-eyed at her sister for a moment, then the blood drained from her face and she collapsed in a heap on the filthy ground of the alley.

Spike chuckled at her dramatic reaction, then sighed when he saw the worried look on Dawn's face. "We could just leave her here?" he asked hopefully. "I really don't want to be around when she wakes up and tries to kill me for corrupting you." Dawn gave him a stern look, and he groaned. "I know, I know." He stooped down and picked the still figure up in his arms, then turned back to Dawn. "Back to your house?"

Dawn shook her head. "I think we should take her to Giles' place. I don't really want to tell Mom I'm a murderer just yet." She wrapped one arm around his waist as they walked out of the alley.