"Why do you still take showers?"

It came out of the blue, murmured without looking up. Violet dropped the towel she'd been using to dry her hair over the radiator and shrugged.

"I dunno. Because I don't want to look like a greasy grunger if some cute dead guy happens to show up?"

A smile from him at that, white teeth and full pink lips, that slight pull at the corners of his lowered eyes. Propping himself up on one elbow whilst his thumb traced around the wheel of Violet's iPod, looking for some music to put on whilst they slept. Settling on The Dresden Dolls and setting the device down in its dock whilst she joined him. Laid back to read for a while.

Tate stared at the ceiling, one hand tracing down the side of Violet's covered body, up her slender arm and to the hand that wasn't holding the book, brought it to his lips. She smiled without looking at him, caressed his lower lip with a finger.

"Will you read to me?" he asked. Violet grinned and shook her head, "Please?"

"No!" she laughed. He loved it when she laughed. Her dark hazel eyes lit up, her solemnity lifting to reveal vivacity even in death, "You won't like it"

"Why not?"

"It's a happy book" she said, giving him a challenging look, a quirk of a smile still there, "You hate happy things"

"I hate sickly things," he corrected. Nuzzled closer, lips exploring the soft skin beneath the strap of her top, fingers following, giving her a doe-eyed glance from under his blonde lashes, "Not happy things"

"Still not reading to you" she replied, mock-serious, "whatcha gonna do about it, cry?"

He didn't reply, only wriggled his head under the crook of her arm and kept hold of her hand. Toyed with the braided bracelet on her wrist, settled in with his head supported on her still, cool chest. Closed his eyes and focussed on the music playing softly.

They'd crept back together by increments, two Hallowe'ens ago. No big scene, no high drama, just Violet one day appearing in the basement, biting her lip and holding out a hand. She was cold, she'd said. Why didn't he come upstairs? There had been tears that night, as there often were. Cleansing, soft tears that pattered down on her face like a summer shower, that he kissed away as they made love. Now he crept in beside her each night. Slept little, but better than he did alone in the crawlspace with her bones. Was glad she didn't know he'd taken to that habit.

He heard and felt her lay the book aside, switch off the lamp and lay down. Turned himself over and waited for her tiny, delicate hand to creep around him and hold him, her elbow resting against his hip, her hand against his solar plexus, her body pressed firmly into his back. Waited, and waited, and finally opened his eyes and sat up. She had rolled over on her other side, laying open-eyed and seeming to be waiting too.

"Don't you want to hold me?" he asked, pushed back the hurt. Damn it, why did his emotions have to master him so much? "Did I do something?"

"Nope," a secretive smile, "I wanna be the little spoon tonight"

"But…. you're always the big spoon" he said quietly, watching her sit and look at him with that devil in her eye dancing, "Vi, you always hold me!"

"Well, tonight I want you to hold me"

"But I like it when you spoon me!" oh, and there went the lower lip, quivering away, damn it Langdon get a grip for a change… "I like being the little spoon, you make me feel safe!"

"I'm sleeping next to a spree-killer, don't you think I should get to feel safe?" she smirked, saw she'd pushed too hard, "C'mon Tate, I'm kidding – I just want it tonight"

"Why?" there were the tears, blurring his vision into fractals, obscuring her face until he swiped them away, angry at himself for yet again letting his eyes get leaky. Couldn't he get through one conversation without the waterworks? Violet shrugged, tucked a curl behind his ear. It sprang back out immediately.

"I don't know," she said, that cheeky smile still there, "Just once?"

"Well…."

"Tate you ALWAYS get to be the little spoon!" she laughed, "What's the harm?"

"But I LIKE it!" he repeated, helplessly, not having any other reason to give.

"Well maybe you'll LIKE this!"

They had raised their voices without knowing, realising only when the door to their room had opened with a little creak and a tired voice floated out of the darkness.

"Are you two fighting again?" Vivian asked, wearily, "Could you maybe wait til the morning? You'll wake the baby"

"Uh, yeah.. sorry Mom" Violet said, gave her mother an innocent look. Viv didn't buy it, hadn't since her daughter had been five.

"Just go to sleep" she said, smiled fondly at her daughter. Eyes flicking briefly to the boy beside her. Even now she was long past harm, it didn't mean she liked him any more. Lips tight and voice cold as she whispered "goodnight, Tate"

"Goodnight Mrs Harmon" he mumbled. God but she hated that innocent-little-boy voice he put on when he spoke to her or Ben. She closed the door quietly. The two young people exchanged a look, a tiny giggle.

"Come here" Violet smiled, pulled him down to lay facing her. Arms coming to rest in the small of one another's backs, noses almost touching. Breathing in the scent of him that Violet sometimes fancied smelled of cordite and blood, more often just of cigarettes and teenage boy. Kissed him softly on each eyelid. Sure he was asleep until he had muttered

"Are we both the big spoon?"

"Yeah," she breathed back, "and the little one"

"Cool"

She felt more than saw him smile, closed her eyes. Settled down and tried not to laugh when she had woken briefly later to find that not only had he turned in her grasp for her to spoon him again, but had stuck one thumb in his mouth.

Honestly, what could you do with that boy?