Patrol

It began on a train, going through a tunnel.
In the darkness, his eyes glowed and I looked away. I didn't want him to think I'd noticed. As the darkness continued he stood, feeling bold, and staggered over to where I stood.
"Hey, Red," he hissed. His voice was sharp and cold, reptilian. "Travelling alone? That's dangerous."
I glared at him, silently, warning him to back away. Unless he misbehaved I would not be able to do a thing, no matter how loathsome his presence was.
"Cat got your tongue?" He teased, clearly no good at reading signals.
"I don't talk to strangers," I replied sharply, pointedly.
The man laughed, wrapping oddly sinuous arms around the pole beside me.
"Let's not be strangers, then," he offered. "My name's Herring."
"Ah," I said. "I thought I smelled something fishy."
He laughed again, but there was an edge to the sound. Normally the girl he spoke to would be hopelessly charmed by now.
"I'm sorry," I amended, putting on a falsely bright voice. "Wow, Herring? What an unusual name! My name's Charlotte."
"Is it?"
"No."
The train swayed around a corner. He pretended to stumble, and pretended that it was an accident when his hand rested on my shoulder.
"You're very unusual," he said huskily.
"Yes," I agreed, slowly taking the knife from my pocket. "I am."
The blade pressed coldly against his clammy skin, digging into the soft hollow where neck and shoulder met.
"I haven't broken any rules," he said, speaking more quickly than before in his sudden fear.
"You attempted a charm influence on an unsuspecting innocent," I snapped. "I felt your clumsy attempts at forced chemistry, so you can't deny it."
He whimpered as the train jolted and the knife drew a drop of blood.
"You aren't going to report me, though?" The question was almost pleading. "Think of all the paperwork."
"I like paperwork," I said, grinning. He groaned.
"I'm on three strikes. Even this minor will be it for me. I got a family to provide for!"
"No you don't. You vipers never stick with any woman long enough to have a family."
Maybe I spoke a little sharply - he heard some vulnerability and pounced on it.
"We can't help the way we are. It's our nature to be dissatisfied." He leered. "Besides, what can a man do but leave a woman if she can't hold his attention?"
Perhaps it was a little rash of me to dig the blade into his neck, but his deliberate needling was more than I could stomach after a long day working at a thankless job. As soon as the knife deliberately broke his skin he pulled himself away, holding the tiny wound with one hand and glaring at me from across the car.
"That's officer brutality," he said.
His blood bubbled on the bare steel - I wiped it quickly onto the cover of a nearby seat.
"More paperwork," I shrugged. "Maybe a light reprimand. It was worth it."