A/N: Let's try this again, shall we? Hopefully it won't get removed this time :)

Dr. Harmon had moved to Los Angeles 3 weeks ago. He hoped the move would be a fresh start for his family; they had had a rough few years. It started when his wife died giving birth to their youngest daughter, Vera. Violet, their oldest daughter was starting her senior year in high school. She had stayed in Boston the last 3 weeks with the baby and the nanny to give Ben some time to set up the house for them, and to celebrate her 18th birthday with friends. Violet didn't want to move to L.A. but after Hayden, the psychotic student her dad had buried his grief in, started stalking the family she saw the necessity of it, even if she knew she wouldn't be happy there.

Ben already had a number of patients by the time Violet and Vera arrived in L.A., one of which was Tate, their neighbor. He lived in the "murder house" that was on the opposite side of the block, sharing a fence with the Harmon's property. He lived there with his mother Constance, her boyfriend Larry, and his sister Adelaide. Like Violet he was starting his senior year at Westfield High School.

It was Thursday afternoon, time for my weekly meeting with Dr. Harmon. Our house shared a back fence with his, and it probably would have just been easier, thick shrubs not withstanding, to hop it. I didn't think that would set the right tone though, so I walked around the block to his front door. As I went to knock the door opened and a girl with honey colored hair, a head shorter than myself walked right into me. I grabbed her arms to steady her as her brown eyes widened from the shock of meeting something solid. I held her there at arms length for a moment before she pulled away and muttered "sorry", and got in an old VW Kharmann Ghia. I stared after her, but Dr. Harmon came to the door a moment later.

"Oh, hello Tate. Come inside and we'll get started."

There was a fresh pile of boxes waiting at the bottom of the stairs all with "Violet" written across them in large letters. "Was that your daughter who just left?" I asked innocently. He replied that it was, adding that she had just arrived the night before.

I couldn't focus all through the session. They were usually boring anyway, but today after seeing Violet it was more like torture. When the doctor asked what was on my mind I couldn't tell him I was thinking of his daughter. He wouldn't think I was good enough for her anyway. To him I was just a fucked up kid; a really fucked up kid. But I kept thinking of how soft and warm she was under my hands. I had a strange sensation as I looked in her eyes, like I'd been waiting for her without knowing it.

When I got home I climbed up to the attic, which had the only window in the house that afforded a view of the Harmon's backyard. I was just hoping for a glimpse of her again, I guess. It felt weird to do it; a normal person wouldn't do this I thought to myself, but it didn't stop me. She didn't come outside until it was dusk. They had a table on their patio and she was setting plates on it, trailed by a very little girl. I supposed she could be her daughter, she wouldn't be the first teenaged mother, but the thought sickened me, so I focused on her being her sister. I thought I must be right though because Dr. Harmon was the one whose lap she sat on during dinner.

As I was watching Beau came out of the shadows to watch too. I pointed out each member of the little family to him, giving the little girl a made up name since I didn't know it. "The girl is Violet. She's pretty, huh?" He just smiled at me. I watched her as she laughed, genuinely laughed as her and her dad talked over dinner. That never happened around our table; usually there was just yelling and broken plates. Once she was alone though, her face fell, and she sat at the table smoking and worrying her lip before finally going in the house. I stayed in the attic for long after they had all gone back inside. It wasn't until I saw Dr. Harmon putting the little girl to bed in the room next to his that I left.

I went back to my room, and lay on the bed, hating the terrible twist of fate that I had to meet her where and when I did. If I could have seen her at school first, or at least if she could have seen me at school first it would have made a difference. Then I could have talked to her without the fact that I'm nuts hanging over my head. And I did I want to talk to her; for the first I wanted to get to know a girl, and not just fuck her. But I couldn't help thinking of that too. I closed my eyes, and thought of kissing her, running my hand up the side of her body, peeling off the thin layers of her clothes. My hand slipped down, palming my growing erection through my pants, momentarily pulling me out of the fantasy before I sunk back in, drowning in the thought of her skin.

She was in my dreams that night. It started out like it always did, walking through the hallway at Westfield, the crowd parting as I raised the shotgun. But I stopped when I saw her standing in front of me at the other end of the hall, her back to me. The scene dissolved around us, and we were on the beach at night. She was still far away from me, but she turned and looked over her shoulder, her hair whipping around her in the wind. When I woke up the next morning I decided I could at least try to talk to her. Maybe she wouldn't want anything to do with me, and maybe she'd tell her dad and he'd yell at me, but something in me wouldn't let me not at least try.

I automatically exited the freeway; my little car zipping down the off-ramp. My car. A gift, bribe really, from my dad. An apology for having to move all the way across the country because he hooked up with some psycho after my mom died.

But I was thinking about a pair of eyes, so deep brown they were almost black, and sandy blonde hair. I didn't believe in love at first sight; that was total bullshit. At the same time though I couldn't shake that face from my mind. Lou Reed was singing about 'This Magic Moment' on repeat because of it. I couldn't deny I had definitely felt something when I looked into his eyes. It was like I couldn't breath. For the first time in my life I knew with complete and absolute certainty that I wanted this person in front of me, and with equal certainty that I would have him. The inevitability of it had sucker punched me, and it terrified me because I had no reason to feel that way. My experience with other guys hadn't prepared me for this.

It probably didn't matter. It was probably all in my head. He probably didn't feel anything for me except annoyance for running into him like an idiot, and even if he did take the time to talk me he probably wouldn't like me. I had no illusions about the kind of person I was. Not that I didn't like myself, I did, but I wasn't the easiest person to get along with. And really I hadn't cared for any guy I'd been with that much; I enjoyed their company, in and out of the bedroom, but I could just as easily walk away. Because of that it irritated me that I couldn't let go of that face.

I slowed down as I entered downtown looking for the street I needed to turn on. The place felt all wrong; like once 5PM rolled around everyone evacuated the city center. I saw a small knot of people down an alley around where I needed to be, and parked. The club was a shit hole. A small space in an old brick building; when they divided the building into smaller rooms they hadn't concerned themselves about including windows, air ducts, or an exit other than the single door I entered through. There were old movie theater benches against the walls, a stage at one end, and oddly enough a pile of dirt against one of the walls. I loved it.

I had missed the first band, but the second was just starting when I walked in, so I climbed up on one of the seats so I could see something other than the backs of people's heads. Sometimes it sucked being short. Though the night outside was chilly, inside it was sweltering. Halfway through the bands set I was pouring sweat, so I pulled my sweater off; no one would see my scars in the dark. When they finished I went outside in the alley to cool off. I leaned against the cool brick and closed my eyes enjoying the fresh air and my cigarette.

I could hear the conversations going on around me, but it wasn't until a few minutes later that I felt uncomfortable, like I was being watched. I opened my eyes, and looked down the alleyway opposite me, and there he was; the guy who I had, literally, run into yesterday. I dropped my eyes casually to look at the ground. For a wild moment I wondered if he followed me, and then I shook myself mentally. Having to deal with that crazy bitch Hayden for the last few years was making me paranoid. The fact that he was here only meant that he liked to listen to local bands too. I watched him surreptitiously out of the corner of my eye; like me he was alone, and a little apart from the crowd. He wasn't dressed in the ridiculous hipster fashions, looking more like Kurt Cobain than an American Apparel model.

From the clapping inside I assumed the next band was about to perform, so I flicked my cigarette away, and went back in. Within a few songs it was apparent this was a waste of my time, and the guy was still watching me. He was in the opposite side of the crowd, and I didn't make eye contact with him, but I could feel him. The discomfort I felt in the alley returned, and I wondered again if he had followed me. Between that and this ridiculous band raping my ears I decided it was time to go back outside. On my way out I asked the guy working the door if there would be another band later, and he shook his head, 'no'; definitely time to cut and run.

The alley was empty as I walked back to my car, but a few seconds later I heard the door open behind me, and footsteps. I didn't need to turn around, just glanced over my shoulder to confirm my suspicion. My expression stopped him in his tracks though, and he turned and walked off in the other direction. His behavior frightened me a little, but what frightened me more was the part of me that longed for him to follow. I got into my car a few minutes later and let out a deep sigh. I wasn't ready to go home yet, so I went to a small all-night diner not far away. The place was almost empty except for a couple guys working behind the counter, and a couple cops helping themselves to big plates of ham and eggs. I sat at a table farthest from them, and ordered a slice of cherry pie and a cup of coffee.

It took a couple hours and a couple of cups of coffee before I finally convinced myself that I was being both paranoid about him following me, and delusional about there being any kind of spark between us.

I rolled into bed just as the sun was coming up, but didn't sleep more than a few hours before I woke up. I wished the dreams would stop. I got up in frustration since I couldn't fall back to sleep and went downstairs to get a cup of tea. My dad was in his office working while Vera played on the floor next to him. I snuck back upstairs and after unpacking for a couple of hours Vera came tumbling in clutching a book in her hands. My dad wasn't far behind. "Can you read her a story while I get dinner ready, Vi?"

The little devil grinned up at me and I scooped her up in my arms. "Come on baby girl, let's go outside and read." Once we had settled down for dinner it was a few minutes before he started grilling me about what I had done the night before.

"So how was it last night?" He tried to keep his voice light, but I knew he disapproved. We had had a minor argument over me going the night before. He didn't like the idea of me going to downtown, alone, late at night.

"Okay. I missed the first band, the second was good, the last was so bad I left early." I said between mouthfuls.
"If you left early why did you get home so late?" I looked at him solicitously. "Vera woke me up around 3, and after I got her back to sleep I checked and you weren't home yet."

"I guess early is relative." I shrugged. I really didn't want to have this argument. "I didn't leave there until after one, and then I stopped at an all-night diner to get something to eat."

"So what time did you get home?" He said a little testily.

"Before sunrise". Barely. His face was still disgruntled, but Vera helpfully distracted him by dropping her cup, and I decided to divert him further. "So who was that guy I ran into when I was leaving Thursday? A Patient?"

"Tall guy, about your age, blonde hair?" He asked, and I nodded in response. "Tate; yeah, he's one of my patients. You'll probably see him at school, I think he goes to Westfield too." Of course I'd be attracted to one of my dad's patients. Perfect. Just perfect. "Why do you ask?" and there was a suspicious note in his voice that made me nervous.

"I ran into him, like literally walked right into him on my way out. I felt like an idiot." With as paranoid as he's become I thought it best not to tell him I saw him again when I went out. Or that he followed me. Maybe. If he knew he'd be trying to file a restraining order first thing Monday morning. Either way my answer pacified him, and we had almost finished dinner when he spoke again.

"Vi, I'm really not comfortable with you going out so late, and by yourself in a strange city." Concern written all over his face.
I tried to keep in mind he had my welfare at heart, but still it annoyed me. I set my knife and fork down, and looked him in the face. "Dad, I'm 18. I know you don't like that, but I'm not going to get younger. Secondly, you remember our deal? I agreed to flee Boston on the condition that as long as my grades are good you stay off my back about what I do."

"We didn't have to flee Boston." He sputtered.

"Yes we did." I said coldly, "and honestly after spending the last 18 months having to be paranoid because of that crazy bitch I'd like to relax. I don't want to look at people and wonder if they're going to kill me for the rest of my life." I got up and started clearing the table now that we were done eating. He didn't say anything further, but his face was full of pain. I felt guilty for snapping at him, so before I walked in the house I gave him a hug and said 'sorry'. It made him feel better, but it didn't change anything; I doubted I would ever be happy here.