I Want You

AN: A bit of silly fluff.

I could cry and say I need you

Tell you that I die when you're not here

I could lie and say I love you

Pour a little poison in your ear

But all I'm gonna give you is

Nothing but the bare and naked truth

Baby I want you

I Want You - Faith Hill

.

The joy she felt in her heart was nothing compared to the worry and fear in her mind. Could Mia someday take over her country? Would she ever be ready? Clarisse was extremely joyful that Mia was happy, and that she had agreed to be princess. The Renaldi's were a dying breed, and the remaining could never bear it if they lost the crown to those people.

This, however, was not why she was feeling butterflies in the pit of her stomach. He had grabbed her hand. Then he kissed it. She was sweating.

Joseph was worried about rejection. What if she didn't want what he thought? What if 'Walk me back to my room.' meant just that?

Clarisse had no idea what she wanted, or what she would do at the time they actually made it to her door. She'd had fantasies for 15 years of what would happen at this moment. He would crush her against the door and kiss her senseless. Or she would invite him inside, and they would make love until the sun came up- and went down again. But all those fantasies left her mind when they stood outside her suite. Instead, she stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around him.

'A hug?' He thought. 'I walked her back to her room for a hug?' Clarisse was ashamed as he walked away.

"Joseph." She summoned him. He loved the way she said his name, and often thought about how it would sound better in a different situation.

"Yes?" He tried not to run back, and instead pivoted in his spot.

"Would you care to come inside?"

"I would love to." He smiled and let her lead him inside. They stood and stared at each other for what seemed like hours, then Clarisse stepped forward. She lifted her neck and pecked him softly on the cheek, on the jaw, and finally, she kissed him full on the mouth. Joseph put his hand on the back of her head and pulled her into him, deepening the kiss. Clarisse relaxed and let it happen, until something within her snapped.

"No!" She shouted. "No, Joseph, we can't."

"Clarisse . . . "

"No, it's the monarchy, we . . . we can't . . . " Her breathing was quickening.

"Clarisse, breathe . . . "

"I'm the queen, Joseph, this is inappropriate. We . . . "

"Clarisse!"

"What?"

"Shut your mouth, and kiss me." Her jaw almost dropped to the floor. How dare he speak to her like that? He saw her hand raise as if to strike. He grabbed it and lowered her palm to her side. She could no longer stand it, and gave into his persuasion. A few passionate kisses and discarded jackets later, she pushed him away again.

"Joseph, you should go. I'm a silly woman." She bent to pick up his jacket from the floor.

"Clarisse, will you please make up your mind?" He demanded.

"Excuse me?"

"What do you want, Clarisse?" Joseph asked, perhaps a bit violently.

"What do you mean?" She sat upon the bed.

"Our dance, three weeks ago." He sat next to her.

"The wango?" She laughed softly.

"Yes, the wango."

"What about it, it was a simple dance." She stood and walked to the love-seat, obviously wanting to get away from the awkward conversation happening on the bed.

"Clarisse, we practically made love on the dance floor." He followed her, and sat down.

"We did not!" She protested, handing him his jacket.

"Really? Do you want to see the security tapes?" He made a move as if to get up.

"No . . . I . . . you should leave."

"Clarisse, what do you want? For you. Now that Rupert's gone, what do you want? As a woman."

"You." She was inaudible, but her lips formed the word Joseph wanted to hear.

"Then you can have me. I'm here." His arms wrapped themselves around her.

"I want you, Joseph. Always." She kissed him softly. "But we can't now. It's not a good time."

"Yes we can, we have six years until you have to prepare Mia for actually taking the crown."

"But not in public."

"I always believed it was a behind closed doors thing anyway . . . " She smacked him playfully.

"Dirty old man. What makes you think . . . "

"I just know." He lay her down upon the love-seat, and covered her body with his own. She protested, but he did not move.

"Joseph . . . please . . . "

"Please what?" He asked, pinning down her arms. She looked away. "Please what, Clarisse?"

"Kiss me . . . " He happily obliged, his hands releasing her arms and running the length of her torso and back up to her hair.

"I love you." He whispered, taken aback at her laughter.

"You hardly know me." She giggled. "You don't love me. You want me."

"That, too." His lips covered her mouth, face and neck, setting her skin to flames.

"Make love to me." They smiled simultaneously.

"Your wish is my command . . . "