A/N: Hey y'all! Another movie quote for the title – I was stuck so picked this one, uttered by Norman Bates in Psycho. He's the killer, but I'm not saying Blake will be! I just thought it was ironic. Maybe it's just creepy. I was stuck!

Chapter 17 – A Boy's Best Friend Is His Mother

"Hey!" Alex said cheerfully, as she pushed open the door to the studio with rosy cheeks. Blake glanced up from where he was tugging off a sweater, and noted how pretty Alex looked; her hair was up in a bun, but the loose strands that usually worked their way out of the fixings she placed them in had curled slightly and her eyes were bright and happy. She hummed as she began to change, a tune that Blake recognised but couldn't place.

"You're chirpy," he commented.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked. "The sun's shining, my Dad fixed my truck yesterday, and I got an A in my English midterm..." She sighed contentedly, missing off the part about her having rehearsal with him. "Life's pretty peachy today."

"Your Dad fixed your truck? I thought you said there was no hope for it," Blake said.

"Yeah, well, my dad's pretty awesome," she smiled, unpacking her things. "How was the rest of your weekend after you picked me up?"

He smirked and sat down while he waited for her. "Not as exciting I'm afraid. Had work, did some school work, and then Mom and Dad forced me and Chase into penguin suits on Sunday for some cocktail party. Not to mention Mom found out about the whole fun fair thing when they went away."

Alex kept her comments about Blake's parents to herself and just gave him a smile to show she was listening. From their brief encounter, Alex had no problem with Clive or Frances, but she struggled sometimes to keep her remarks about them in check. She couldn't help but compare their parents; it was funny how William did nothing but encourage her to go out and have a life, and Blake's parents seemed intent on nipping desire that in the bud. She privately thought they were unnecessarily strict on Blake and Chase. After all, her Dad didn't know a thing about ballet and had never tried to, and she'd turned out alright without being forced into a childhood that didn't include...well, fun.

She knew she'd touched a nerve the night, when she'd brought up his decision to dance. Her sleep had been completely ruined that night, despite her exhaustion, as Alex worried that she'd pushed him to far, wishing that she'd just kept her mouth shut. But he seemed in a better frame of mind now; he was smiling, and looked...if she had to admit it to herself...very cute...in his sweat top with his hair tousled and hanging in his eyes slightly.

"Thanks again for taking both me and Chase. I had fun," she said quietly, casting her eyes downwards to refocus. "Despite the drama."

Blake folded his arms and rested his head against the wall, casting his eyes heavenward. "I suppose we'll look back on the Ferris Wheel incident and laugh."

"I will," Alex snorted. "You were hilarious." He shot an inquisitive look her way and waited for an explanation. "Oh come on...'get down from there!'..." she said, mimicking his tone. "He was on the Ferris Wheel, for Pete's sake."

Blake fought the smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yes. Well. I was in a state of panic clearly." When he saw Alex was still laughing, he couldn't help it any longer; he shook his head, chuckling to himself. "Fine. It probably wasn't the best thing to come out with."

"No. But at least Chase was thinking clearly. It might have gotten a little serious if your brother did as he was told."

Blake stood up, ignoring her smirk and paced over to the middle of the studio, ready to work. "There's no danger of Chase ever doing that, so long as it's me giving the command. He can be as belligerent as you." She pulled a face, making him laugh.

"And how's Wish Bear?" he asked coyly, partly to see her reaction and partly to change the subject. He got the desired effect; her face was devoid of any distinguishable emotion apart from the smile she'd worn since she'd walked in, but she couldn't stop the telltale blush from creeping across her cheeks.

"On my desk," she said simply.

He smiled to himself, stretching his arms patiently. "Come on," he commanded. "We better get on."

"Alright," grumbled Alex, "Give me chance to get ready."

"Look, the Christmas fund raiser is coming up, and we've got to be ready..." he began. Alex rolled her eyes.

"We will be. Jeez," she sighed, running her fingers through her hair before putting it up." Don't you ruin my buzz, Mr. Collins. I'm having a good day, and I am not afraid of you," she added firmly, walking over to him.

Blake shrugged. "I know that."

"Good."

"But I do know that you're afraid of ghost trains," he retorted, folding his arms smugly. "So if you do anything I don't like, I'll frogmarch you to the fair and force you on to one."

Her jaw dropped but she quickly recovered from her surprise and began to laugh. "I knew it. I knew you'd use it against me. I didn't know when, but I knew you would. Wish I'd never damn well said anything," she muttered.

Blake straightened his back, glancing off past her head in a meditative state. "The best way to defeat someone is to use their strengths and weaknesses against them."

"Who died and made you Sensei?" Alex teased, poking him in the ribs as she walked past him. He jerked sharply, laughing as he did so. "And since when I was I an opponent that needed defeating?"

"If you do as you're told," Blake breathed, cocking his eyebrow. "There will be no need for me to carry out my threat, will there?"

"Do as I'm..." Alex squared up to him with a determined expression; her eyes narrowed and her mouth set firmly in a confident smile. "Listen, mister. Nobody tells me what to do, and as for your threat," she said, jabbing him with her finger again, in the sternum this time. "You wouldn't dare."

"Then you clearly don't know what I'm capable of," he said in a low voice, and just for good measure, he gently pushed her shoulder. She shook her head disbelievingly, until someone behind them cleared their throat loudly, startling them so much they turned sharply in their direction.

"Mom," Blake said, frowning, and his tone becoming noticeably clipped and polite. He stepped away from Alex. "What are you doing here?"

Frances Collins was watching them both with a blank expression, holding a pair of leather gloves in her hand and some files in the other. She was dressed in a long winter coat, and underneath, crisp business wear that cut against her neat figure. In her heels, she was taller, but her height had nothing to do with how intimidating she was, simply standing there, commanding a strong presence in the studio. She seemed to take a moment before stepping forward, her heels clacking on the wooden floor and going over to them both.

"I dropped by for a meeting with Director Franklin, and I saw the two of you in the studio as I passed," she said, adopting a smile. Her eyes darted to Alex. "It's nice to see you again, Alex."

"And you Mrs. Collins."

"What are you doing here? Rehearsing?"

"For the fundraiser," Blake explained quickly, swallowing the lump in his throat. He knew his mother well enough to know that behind the formal and seemingly gentile words and demeanour, she was waiting to speak her mind over something. Sure enough, she paused pensively and turned her careful face towards Alex.

"Alex, would you mind terribly if I had a word with my son? In private," she added, smiling broadly.

Alex nodded, and pointed to the door. "I'll be outside." She padded away softly, glancing back at Blake with an inquisitive look before slipping out of the door and into the corridor.

"What's the matter?" he asked, folding his arms.

"What are the two of you up to?"

Blake frowned. "Rehearsing. I just told you."

"It didn't look as if there was a lot of dancing going on," Frances Collins said calmly.

"We hadn't started yet."

"Honey," Frances sighed, dragging the word out and playing with her gloves. "I wouldn't have allowed this partnership to go ahead if I'd have known your focus wasn't..."

"You wouldn't have allowed it?" interrupted Blake, quirking an eyebrow as his voice rose a little in his anger. "It was my decision who I worked with, not yours."

"And do you honestly think I would have let you make a decision that would hinder you in any way?" his mother asked. Blake gritted his teeth and looked away. "Blake, darling, I want what's best for you, and I do like Alex. Truly I do. And I know for a fact she's a well accomplished performer. Franklin himself tells me how promising her future is. He's already started seeling the pair of you to RBS and New York, for when your final showcase comes up. But if working together is pulling you both back, rather than propelling you forward, I'm going to put a stop to it. For the both of you," she added in a low voice as her son shook with rage at his mother's words.

"Alex is staying," he told her.

"Ok, if you can prove to me that she's not a distraction," his mother told him in a low voice.

"If anything, Mom," he countered, spitting the words, "Alex keeps me focused. She knows what to expect from me, what works between us, and how to motivate me. She's a fantastic partner and you'd be hard pushed to find a better dancer in this state, let alone school."

Frances stared at him thoughtfully. "All the same, I'd like you to be a little stricter with yourself. I know how your feelings can run away with you sometimes, especially in dance. I am human," she added, in an attempt to making him smile. He simply restrained a snort. "What I mean is, try to focus on what's important now – anything else can come after. I mean," she continued, laughing a little, "look at how defensive you're being right now. Irrational. I'm only asking you to remember why you partnered with Alex in the first place. To further your dancing, right sweetie?"

Blake begrudgingly nodded.

"Right – I need to go see Director Franklin, and you need to be getting on." She bent her head forward to kiss his cheek, which he allowed her to do reluctantly. Satisfied, she turned on her heels and began to walk away.

"If you want the best for me, and my future, then Alex will continue to be my partner," Blake called out in a resolute tone. His mother spun on her heels, masking her irritation.

"I'm not stupid Blake," she said coolly. "I know when my son is infatuated with someone." Blake opened his mouth to object but she raised a hand. "I have nothing against her personally. All I ask is that you prove to me that you're not throwing your talent away for some teenage crush. This is your life, we're talking about. Dance first, everything else second," she stated. He clenched his fists at his side and rolled his eyes. That was her life's mantra and didn't he know it.

"Your father and I met through dance Blake, I'm not saying it's not allowed," she reiterated. "I'm simply saying..."

"I know. Dance first. Anything else second." He paused and refolded his arms. "Fine. You'll get your proof, if that's what you need. Regardless of feelings, Alex and I are a good partnership. You have nothing to worry about anyway. It's completely one-sided." A small lie, he hoped.

She nodded and turned away again. "I'll see you this evening," she said without looking back, passing through the door and leaving him in a furious stupor. How dare she dictate to him about who he should and shouldn't dance with? He scratched his head, pacing when Alex reappeared seconds later, looking a little perturbed, and frowned at Blake.

"Is everything alright? Your Mom gave me the stink eye when she left the room, and I heard shouting," she said, cocking her head to look at him and taking in his stance and expression, blinked at him with concern. "Are you ok?"

"Fine," he snapped, a little coldly. He knew he was taking his anger out on her but it was that or admit the truth, and he didn't really want to relay the awkward and, frankly, embarrassing moments of before. He was ashamed of his parents – he had been for a long time. No doubt when he was at the Royal Ballet School he'd be able to look back and appreciate their hard efforts, but at the moment he couldn't. Why couldn't Frances be a normal Mom and just tease him about having a crush on Alex if she knew? Why did she have to make it into a drama, and bring dance into it?

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he sighed, and when he looked at her, he could see in her eyes she didn't believe him. At least she was good enough not to push the matter, and so with a shrug she paced over to him resignedly. She didn't say anything else about it for the rest of their rehearsal in fact, seemingly sensing his bad mood, she only raised queries about their dancing. He couldn't tell whether he'd hurt her feelings or not, but as they left, she flashed him a kind smile and waved, before heading off to meet her Dad. He knew he'd let his mother's words affect the way he treated her, and he hated himself for it. But there seemed to be little else he could do. He couldn't pursue anything with Alex now – asides from a normal friendship – because he needed to show Frances that he and Alex were dancing dynamite, so she wouldn't part them. He knew she would do that if she 'thought it best'. And there was nothing Frances Collins liked more than being proved right.

It just meant toning it down, at least until he'd made his point; no going over weekly, no unnecessary car rides, no flirting. As much as it was going to pain him to give up the precious time he did spend with the one person he made him feel like a human being, it could mean that they wouldn't split up in the long run. Just a little distance between the pair of them was all they needed. It could be good for them, to really focus, especially with the fundraiser coming. He groaned inwardly as he walked to his car, cursing his internal rationalisations. He was beginning to sound like his mother.

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