This story takes place in an AU. I won't go into detail here – you will see for yourself how it is different from canon. Enjoy!
Joseph stopped at a newsstand on the way to work to pick up a copy of the London Times. He didn't buy a newspaper every day, but today he was in the mood to read during his commute. He tucked the paper under his arm and went to the nearest Tube station. His Oyster card got him through the turnstile and his train pulled up just as he arrived on the platform. Settling into a seat, he unfolded the newspaper to glance over the headlines, but he was stopped short by the first one he saw.
King Rupert of Genovia Dead, Aged 53
Joseph devoured the article. Massive heart attack… whilst dining with Prime Minister… survived by wife and two sons… Queen Clarisse Renaldi (43) and Princes Pierre (23) and Philippe (19). He searched for pictures, but there was only a stock photograph of King Rupert. Joseph read the article again several times before he got to work at the British Museum, where he served as head of security. He stashed the paper in his office and started his morning rounds. He wasn't required to make rounds personally, but he preferred to keep an eye on the place himself. He still had plenty of work to do in his office, so he didn't spend the whole day walking around the museum, and that suited him just fine.
After leaving Genovia twenty years ago, Joseph had moved to London almost on a whim. He had worked a variety of security jobs there, but he had never stayed in one place as long as he had stayed at the British Museum. He enjoyed London and, now, enjoyed his work as well. Guarding a museum was quite different from guarding a person, but they each had their advantages.
One of his subordinates approached him in front of the Elgin Marbles. "Morning, Joe," the young woman greeted him as they passed each other.
"Good morning, Lydia."
He might normally have stopped to exchange a few pleasantries with her, but Joseph was still contemplating the news of Rupert's death, so he continued to walk. He wondered how the queen and the princes were faring. It must have been a shock to lose the king at a relatively young age. When Joseph had worked in the palace, the man had been fit and healthy. Perhaps his habits had changed in the intervening years. Joseph couldn't keep his thoughts from dwelling on the one person in the palace whose life would be most altered by his death. Clarisse. She had already been queen, but now she was the sole ruler of Genovia. She would have to continue in Rupert's place; the world would not stop turning so she could mourn her husband in peace.
Joseph thought back to his time working for the Renaldi family. He had been both happy and unhappy. Genovia was a beautiful country and the employees of the royal family were treated well, but he had fallen desperately in love with the queen quite early in their acquaintance. He tried to manage this problem by searching for another woman to love, but no one could compare to Clarisse - not when he saw her every day. After two years of frustration, he had decided that he had to leave her, for his own peace of mind. It had taken several years away from her, but at last he had let Clarisse go and was able to have several happy relationships. Each had ended for the same reason, however. In the end, he could never come to the point and commit to marrying any of the other women he loved in his time England. He blamed this on his own wretched heart, which could never entirely give up on Clarisse. She was married, for God's sake, and probably would be for a very long time. He would likely never return to Genovia and even if he did, he had no particular reason to expect anything from her. Yet he could never completely lose faith.
Now, however, the death of King Rupert left him with mixed emotions. He was sorry that a good man was dead and sympathetic to the pain of the family he left behind, but he couldn't keep his hope from returning in full force. Clarisse's widowhood meant that she was free, in one sense at least. She had no husband, which meant he might be able to woo her, but she was still queen, and that might keep her from considering an offer of marriage from any man. And marriage would be his ultimate goal if he pursued her.
Joseph did not get very much work done that day. His mind kept wandering. He found himself calling a travel agent about airline ticket prices and reconsidering his desire to stay in London. He did feel at home here, but the images of Genovia in his mind beckoned warmly to him. He had been happy there, too, despite living with the pain of unrequited love. He thought he might be happy there again. Before he could stop himself, he had contacted the palace chief of staff and inquired whether there were any available positions in palace security. If the answer had been no, he might have pushed this crazy plan from his mind, at least for a little while, but when he found out the current chief of security was retiring, he took it as a sign and faxed his résumé to the chief of staff. There was no going back now. Joseph was certain by the end of the day that he would return to Genovia, whether or not he was hired as head of security. He wasn't sure what he would do, but he knew that his days in London were numbered.
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Joseph looked out the window of the airplane, but he was deep in thought and saw nothing. It would be an hour and a half before he arrived in Genovia and he wouldn't be at the palace until tomorrow, but adrenaline was already rushing through his body. He had been conditionally hired to work for the Renaldis, pending approval by the queen. He would be put straight to work starting tomorrow, supervising in the security hub, but he would have no contact with the family until the queen had interviewed him. The staff assured him that it was merely a formality, but a necessary one nonetheless. Clarisse would not be available to see him right away. He would probably have to wait several days. Just a few months ago he had believed with what he thought was peaceful resignation that he would never see her again, but now that he knew he would see her, the moment couldn't come soon enough for his taste. The best he could hope for was that the work would keep him busy enough to distract him from his impatience.
There was also a part of him that feared this meeting. He hadn't seen Clarisse in twenty years. He had purposefully avoided reading news of Genovia when it appeared in his newspaper; he had not even seen a photograph of her in the time they were apart. He couldn't imagine her ever being anything but lovely, but twenty years could change a person in more than just appearance. And naturally, he had changed as well. How much would she remember of him? How would they get along? They had been friends before, but there was no telling if they would be able to pick up where they left off. Joseph tried to nap, but it was no use; he was wide awake. Finally the plane landed and he checked into a hotel near the palace, unpacked his things, and went out in search of dinner. He found a small café he remembered as a favorite from twenty years ago and ate a leisurely meal. Afterwards, he took a long walk, hoping to wear himself out so he could sleep. It worked better than he had hoped. After a hot shower, Joseph lay awake for a while, but his mind did finally slow down after about an hour and he slept better than he had in weeks.
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The time had come. It was his third day in the palace and now he was on the other side of a door from Clarisse. Her assistant opened the door and Joseph followed her into the queen's office. She was sitting at her desk, dressed all in black, sorting through a neat stack of papers. His breath caught in his chest. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Time had aged her, but somehow she seemed lovelier than ever. All of the feelings he had thought to be gone were now revived in him and he knew he loved her, had always loved her, had never stopped loving her. He tried to focus on the task at hand, but his mind was traveling in a dozen directions at once and his heart pounded in his ears.
"This is Joseph Romero, Your Majesty, our new head of palace security."
Clarisse looked up. "Yes, I know," she said calmly. "Thank you, Gloria."
"Very good, Your Majesty." With one curious backward glance, Gloria slipped out of the room.
Joseph inclined his head. "Your Majesty."
The queen allowed a small smile to appear on her lips. "Hello, Joseph."
"I was very sorry to read of His Majesty's passing."
Her smile remained, but tears formed in her eyes. "Thank you."
"I understand I'm to be interviewed?"
"Is that what they told you? Well, yes, normally I would, but I know you already. I only required this meeting so I would have a chance to see you and to speak to you."
"You will be seeing me a great deal from now on."
"So I will," she replied.
There was silence for a few moments as each studied the other. Then Clarisse rose from her chair and approached Joseph, though she stopped short about six feet from him. He noticed that she still wore the same fragrance as she had twenty years ago. It was oddly comforting on this day of chaotic emotions.
"Joseph," she murmured
"Your Majesty?"
"What brings you back to Genovia?"
He cleared his throat. He couldn't tell her the real reason. "I felt it was time for a change."
"Time for a change," she repeated. Joseph did not miss the hint of skepticism in her tone.
Joseph tried to explain. "I was happy in London for some time, but it was time for me to return."
"Was that why you left Genovia twenty years ago? Was it time for a change?"
"No."
"Then why?"
"It… it's personal," he stammered.
Clarisse took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Personal. Well I won't press you." She turned away from him and walked back to her desk, but when she reached it, she stopped, her back to him. She stood that way so long that he started to worry.
"Are you all right?" he asked softly.
She nodded, but he could see from the movement of her shoulders that she was holding back tears. He took a chance and stepped closer. She flinched when he placed his hand gently on her shoulder, but she neither objected nor moved away from him.
"I'm sure everything will be all right in time, Your Majesty," Joseph told her.
She spoke in a strangled tone. "Joseph."
He paused. "Yes?"
She turned to face him and his heart broke at her despondent expression. "We were friends once," she whispered.
"And we will be friends again, if you wish it."
She shook her head. "Only if you wish it. I will not command you to be my friend."
"I will be-" He stopped himself. "I am your friend."
"Then please, call me-"
"Call you Clarisse," he finished for her.
She smiled even as she wiped away tears. Joseph handed her a handkerchief and she dabbed at her eyes. "Joseph." She placed a hand on his shoulder.
He nodded briefly, his eyes on her face.
"I've missed you," she told him, her voice very small.
"Oh, Clarisse," he whispered, pulling her gently into his arms. He held her and she cried against his chest. He didn't tell her to stop crying, he simply swayed from side to side, whispering comforting words into her hair. Her tears poured warmth and comfort into the turmoil of his mind and heart. It might have been amusing to imagine her declaring her undying love for him and immediately dragging him before a justice of the peace for a quick wedding, but in real life, this was better than he had expected. She had missed him. She still wanted to be his friend. She was letting him hold her and comfort her. He felt whole again, when a month ago he hadn't realized that a part of him had been missing for the last twenty years. He still loved her. He still might never have her. But she was part of his life and he was part of hers. It was a beautiful day.
The end.
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