Author's note: My first attempt at Tate/Violet. Please let me know what y'all think. Enjoy. :)

I do not own American Horror Story.

So what if he's dead. Doesn't mean can't...you know, right?

Violet sat thinking to herself on her usual smoking perch in between the brick columns with the bushes hiding her from the street. She pulled out yet another cigarette and lit up. The paper hissed and the tobacco let of it's telltale full aroma as she lit up and inhaled deeply. After holding the smoke in for as long as possible she exhaled with a sigh. This whole dark and mysterious killer thing was admittedly compelling at first, but now it was purely bothersome. The little game they always played with their words and facial expressions made everything so damn difficult to solidify.

Tate loved to fuck with her. The way he phrased things, hoe he would pop up out of nowhere, how he had no thought of personal space until she was the one getting a little hands-y; what the hell was all that about?

Violet brought her knees up to her chin as the tapped the teeth-marked end of her smoke with a flick of her thumb. She closed her eyes for a moment and sucked on the filter, filling her lungs with head-spinning smoke. To her surprise, it wasn't a complete failure when she tried a French inhale.

"Not bad, but it was a bit sloppy," a voice said. Tate was leaning casually against the column right behind her with no regard to privacy or commonly used methods of making ones presence known. She'd been expecting him to show up so the sudden sound of his smooth voice in her ear had no impact on her, well, no visible impact. A scoff followed by a smoke ring to his face was her only response before she turned away from him to stare at the column across from her. He took this for the invitation it was and sat against the very spot at which she had been staring and assumed his usual position: cross-legged with his head crooked to the side, staring right back at her. It seemed like he was studying the girl in front of him; unfortunately Violet didn't take well to being observed in such a manner.

She abandoned their regular introductory silence and witty banter and jumped straight to the point of what was bothering her. "What are you doing," she demanded in a not-to-be-fucked-with tone. Tate gave a slight smirk at her sudden candor, but wiped it clean due to the daggers in her eyes. "Do you mean why am I staring at you, why am I here, or why am I always here?" he asked in a mocking voice, head still tilted to the right. He looked like a child just faced with their first adult problem he couldn't comprehend: curious and completely innocent. Violet knew he was doing it on purpose to try and mess with her and he knew she could see right through it.

"Can't you just fucking give me a straight answer?"

"That would depend on what you're asking." He smirked and raised his eyebrows.

She unfolded herself and leaned forward on her knees and looked Tate square in the eyes and spoke pointedly. "Why do we always have to play games and tiptoe around when you could simply give me a flat out fact?" It was her turn to tilt her head to the side and smile. Violet was done messing around and he needed to know that.

Tate leaned forward until he was mere inches from her face, mimicking her stance. His eyes didn't gleam with his usual mischief and bravado. "You've listened in on my sessions with your father enough to know why I don't want to flat out say things," he said as his eyes fell from her face and dropped to her wrist where the fresh cuts were peaking out from her dark sleeve.

"I thought we agreed you would stop that." He sat back on his haunches and let his head fall back onto the brick column as he frowned at her. "Since you won't be honest with me, I don't see why I need to be with you," Violet retorted, raising an eyebrow at him. He blinked heavily and shifted his gaze to the bush hiding them from the street.

"Do you really want me to explain that badly?" he asked with worry showing when his voice cracked near the end. He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them making him look more vulnerable than ever. She disengaged herself from the offensive crouch. Her hand circled his ankle slowly, shifting his leg to the side before sliding in between his legs with her back to his chest. After taking a drag she said, "Yes, I want to know about all of this. I'm not expecting to learn it all in one night or even understand a drop of it, but I don't want to be left in the dark anymore, not by you."

Violet extinguished her cigarette on the brick before taking his hand in hers. Tate was stiff to her touch, still mulling over what should be done, but let her unfold his fist and fit her fingers in between his. He let out the breath he hadn't realized had been held in his lungs in a deep sigh, closing his eyes. With his free arm he circled her waist, holding her against him in a loving and soft embrace. A half smile graced Violet's lips at his touch, but she wasn't quiet done with him yet and he knew it.

They sat like that for a few moments in complete silence both hoping the other would speak first. It was very unlike them, but wasn't this all unlike how they usually were?

Violet sighed and sat up before turning around to face Tate, still between his legs. "So, what do you say?" He closed his eyes for a moment before responding. "I'll be in your room tonight around ten. We'll start then."

She scooted out from his grasp, swung her legs over the edge and stood with her back turned to him. He got up and kissed her on the cheek. When she turned to kiss him back there was nothing but brick, air, and an overgrown bush. Violet looked down and smiled to herself.

That went better than expected.

Will update soon. Let me know what you think!