Grenade

Midnight Practices

Blake sat still, waiting patiently for the story from the girl in front of him. 'This should be good…'

"I came here to practice, believe it or not," Andie mumbled

"What did you just say? I think I misheard you or something, because I heard you say that you actually came here to practice..." Blake grinned teasingly.

"You heard right," Andie confirmed.

"Why?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She blushed, a bit reluctant to answer. "Because I wanted to prove you wrong."

"Ah," he exclaimed shortly, understanding. "I've met many people who've tried to do that. They don't usually succeed."

"Well, I will," she said determinedly.

Blake suddenly stood up, walking over to his jacket, pulling out a few CDs. He sauntered over to the CD player that was sitting on the chair on the opposite chair, pressing the 'on' button and popping the lid. After shuffling through the group of CDs, he cracked open the case to one labeled "Classical Hits". He slipped it into the player, but before he could press play, Andie's curiosity got the best of her.

"What are you doing?"

Blake turned to her, smirking as he pressed play. Soothing music filled the room. "Helping you practice," he answered simply.

He walked over to him, reaching out his hand. "C'mon, Miss West. Your leg will be fine. Show me what you've got."

As she clasped her hand with his, he gently pulled her forward, entwining her in a beautiful dance. She twisted and turned, unafraid when she knew his strong arms were supporting her every move.

Blake, while dancing, began to evaluate her. She was a wonderful dancer. Unfortunately, she denied the fact that she could do well in anything other than common street dancing, especially when it came to ballet; she was too stubborn to consider anything else. Maybe he could mold her into something better...

No, he decided, he would never dare to change her.

Coming back to the real world, he noticed she still wasn't pointing her right leg correctly. His brow furrowed. He knelt down, and once she realized he was no longer dancing, she stopped mid-step, gazing at him curiously.

"Fourth position, then point," he directed. She shrugged, then did so. They were very simple instructions, even for a street dancer like her.

His arms wound around her legs, molding them into that perfect position that he always wanted. "Tuck in your butt," he ordered her with absolutely no embarrassment at all. He was in complete teacher mode now.

"Remember, the line from the top of your thigh to the tip of your toe should be perfectly straight, no bumps, no creases," he went on lecturing, unintentionally causing her to lose her immaculate balance. Luckily, instead of falling, her fingertips brushed lightly against the very top of his back, right near his neck. Then, apparently decided that wouldn't cut it, her hand pressed more firmly against her back, gaining a bit of balance with his support.

'Déjà Vu,' he thought, desperately trying not to focus on her hand. Her elegant hand placed so very lightly and delicately on his back… Okay, the not focusing thing wasn't really working.

Unfortunately, that was possibly the eternal end of 'teacher mode' for Blake. At least for this particular female student.

She's a student! The sane side of his brain screamed at him.

Her little, almost insensible touch sent shock waves around his body, heating it up wave after wave. Every nerve in his body was on edge, all because of her single touch. Afraid to look up at her, he froze, scared that if he did move, he'd lose the precarious control he had built up since he was around thirteen. When he gave up that anyone, especially his parents, would ever take the time to love him for him, not his dancing. He wanted attention.

Which is why he took charge of the school.

The barely lit, mostly dark room with its oddly enchanting mirrors, the incredibly beautiful romantic music –at the time, specifically Claude Debussy's very own "Clair De Lune" – possibly the director's favorite classical, romantic piece ever –playing, and the fact that Andie's rosy red lips would be barely inches from his own if he had the courage enough to stand made it all the more acutely painful and constraining. The room seemed to shrink a little.

After a minute, the brunette's hand left his back. He slowly relaxed, exhaling in relief, only to feel, a few seconds later, the same hand wrapping around and pulling on his shoulder. He realized that she was calling to him.

"Director Collins? Blake? Are you okay?" she asked worriedly, shaking his shoulder harder. He snapped out of it.

"Sorry, Andie, I got a bit distracted," he apologized, weaving his arms off Andie's right leg. He couldn't, wouldn't touch her anymore. It was way too big of a risk. For both of them. "Keep dancing; I need to observe more of your dancing if you ever want me to help you. I'll take you home in the morning. It's raining too hard to do anything about it now," he said, switching suddenly to being rather cold and impersonal. Andie frowned at him, moving into her starting position.

Throughout the night, Andie seemed to gradually relax and be at ease with him around, even though he was considered the meanest and strictest teacher in the entire school, or so he was told. When she fell over from an uncomfortable position he had forced her into, she was stunned into silence for a few seconds, then she burst into hysterical laughter.

Blake decided it was possibly the loudest and most contagious laughter he had ever encountered. Even 'he who had never truly laughed in his entire miserable existence' –well, at least according to Chase –began to chuckle. Pretty soon he was bent over the piano, almost laughing harder than Andie who currently embodying the phrase, 'Rolling on the floor laughing.'

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you smile before tonight, let alone laugh," Andie commented after they had both calmed down a little. They had propped themselves up against the mirrors, waist to waist, shoulder to shoulder.

"Hmm," was Blake's eloquent reply.

"It's a good look on you," she added vaguely.

Blake was a bit confused; his mind couldn't comprehend elusive statements when he hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. "What look?" he asked curiously, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Happiness," she clarified softly.

"Ah.." He really had nothing to say to that. She had verbally trapped him with that one.

"You know," she began randomly after a few minutes of peace, "you should try laughing more often. Bet you didn't know it adds five seconds to your life."

They smiled at each other, feeling closer to each other than either of them had ever been to another person in their life.

At first light, he dropped her off at her house. She waved from the porch with a big smile on her face, yelling that she'd see him in class on Monday. He smiled back, gave a small wave, then took off. He needed to get Andie's shamelessly grinning face out of his mind.

'God,' he thought idly. 'I am so screwed.'

SUSUSU

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