Disclaimer: Don't own Xander.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Some insults demand repayment in blood.



“Who's on Creep-watching duty this evening?” asked Chloe, settling into her seat.

“Ryan,” said Georgina. “He has my cameraphone, just in case Creep is stupid enough to start macking on one of his underage girls in public.”

“Are you sure? Ryan's kind of big to be inconspicuous.”

“Look, it was my turn last week. And you know, with your hearing, you could miss something.”

“George, if you start getting on my back about the operation again, I will end you,” said Chloe amiably, sipping her drink and peering over Ryan's shoulder at the Creep. He was in his usual posture when not with one of his girls: slouching forward over his drink, a leather jacket several sizes too small for him riding up over his bulky shoulders, one hand absent-mindedly wiping under his eyepatch every so often.

“We need to do something about him,” she decided.

“Like what? I mean, that's why we set up Creep-Watching Day in the first place. We can't very well report him to the police when all we know is that we've seen him with a succession of fourteen-year-olds.”

“Sometimes the police aren't enough.”

“You've been watching that Batman movie again, haven't you?”

“Perhaps,” said Chloe with dignity. “And I'm not talking about hurting him or anything. It's just, you know, maybe Ryan could talk to him. I'm sure being accosted in a dark alley by a seven-foot-tall ex-linebacker might give him reason to reconsider his evil ways.”

“But what if he hurts Ryan?”

They both looked at Ryan.

“Okay, what if Ryan doesn't want to do it?”

“Oh, come on. You've only been dating two weeks. He's still at the wants-to-impress-you stage. Look, Creep is leaving. He could be off to some junior-high playground right now.”

“Oh, all right,” said Georgina grudgingly.

...


The alley wasn't particularly dark, which disappointed Chloe, but it was at least isolated. Ryan strode forward, tapped the Creep on the shoulder and said something she couldn't quite catch.

There was a brief, eyepatch-wearing blur.

“Wake up, Ryan,” wailed Georgina, tugging on her boyfriend's hand.

“Wugga,” said Ryan, standing up rather unsteadily.

“What did you say to him?” asked Chloe, who was beginning to reconsider that operation. Clearly she had missed something good.

“Nothing! I hadn't even started on the stop-molesting-kids bit.”

Chloe stared at him accusingly.

“It's true,” confirmed Georgina. “All he said was 'Hey, broody leather-coat-wearing guy!'”