I still don't own The Princess Diaries. (sigh)

Joseph had never seen her tarry like this. She was on the sofa, arms and ankles crossed, and slouched carelessly in a gown for a party downstairs in the ballroom that was waiting for her in order to really get started. She stared ahead, fixated on something on the other side of her sitting room. He looked, but saw nothing terribly fascinating.

He sat next to her and twisted his torso to put his elbow on the back of the sofa. He propped his head in his hand and watched her. She turned her gaze toward him; her eyes had a glassy, faraway look until, after a few blinks, she was able to focus on him. Then she pursed her lips and watched him back.

Finally, she spoke. "I know."

"You know what?"

"We should be going," she said noncommittally.

"Mm. Probably a good idea."

"It's just... Well, I don't want to."

He chuckled. "I don't blame you."

"You don't want to go, do you?"

"What do you think?"

"Do you know what I'd rather be doing?"

"No, but it would be nice if it were along the same lines as my own preference."

She stood up and crossed the few feet that separated them. She held on delicately to the skirt of her gown, lifting the hem slightly, then settled onto his lap.

"So far," he said, grinning delightedly as he slid his arms around her waist, "we seem to be on the same page."

She reached for his tie to straighten it up. It amused him that she always did that. He had no doubt it was perfect before she touched it, and just as perfect when she was done with it. "I'd rather be getting out of these dress clothes than getting into them," she said plainly.

He still smiled, but his eyes darkened. "Now that's just scary, how you're reading my mind."

She moved her hands up his neck and ran her thumbs along his jaw. His earring, glinting in the waning daylight, caught her attention.

"You know," she said, fiddling with the jewelry, "Rupert always hated this earring."

"Why do you think I wore it?"

She laughed a lively, whole-hearted laugh that broke the spell of her lethargy and left him utterly charmed. "I thought you wore it because I always loved it."

"That, too," he smiled. "Win-win."

Her laugh became a soft chuckle, then she sighed. "Oh, Joseph, can't we skip it?"

"You'd better not ask me."

"Because you'll say no?" she asked, surprised.

"Because I'll say yes." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Just a few hours, my love."

"More like a few years," she corrected him somberly.

"Good God, how long is this party?"

She smiled appreciatively at his attempt to keep up her spirits.

Their spirits, she reminded herself.

"A few hours," he said, "until we can get out of these clothes." He rubbed his hands slowly up and down her back, his fingers trailing along her spine. "You'll probably need help with this zipper," he whispered before nibbling her earlobe.

"I will, if it's as difficult getting out of this dress as it was getting into it." Her eyes wide and innocent, she added, "I've got Priscilla on stand-by." He pulled back, frowning. "Alright, I'm kidding. I told her I wouldn't need her for the rest of the night."

"Good."

She leaned into him, and their lips met briefly, but eagerly.

"A few hours," he repeated confidently. "Then I'll make you forget it's really a few years."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

His own eyebrows wiggled suggestively. "It is."

"You're awfully sure of yourself."

"I can afford to be when I'm properly motivated."

She eyed him curiously. "What does that mean?"

His jovial demeanor slipped, and their shared desperation lined his brow. "We could both do with a little temporary amnesia."

She nodded wordlessly, not trusting herself to speak. Her dress was likely creased, her lipstick smudged, her focus hopelessly derailed. She had to salvage what was left of her composure while the ballroom was filled to bursting and her staff paced outside her suite.

And while Joseph waited.

He managed a smile for her sake. For their sake. It was difficult, but her arms wrapped around his neck as she sought another kiss. He tightened his embrace, and they both held on for dear life. For a painfully short moment, they lost themselves – and all sense of time – in each other.