This was originally the first part of a longer story where I tried to finagle an informal introduction for Clarisse and Joe. I liked where it was going, but it fizzled out as I failed to figure out how to get it there. Later, I accomplished what I wanted with "Awkward." I salvaged this and, coming back to it recently, I realized it could be considered a prequel to "Awkward." Then again, it doesn't have to be. If you're into connecting stories, feel free. I kind of like to myself, and it's why I left in a detail about Clarisse's hair that really no longer needs to be there if this story is to stand alone.

I don't own the characters. I have no real-life relationship with them whatsoever. They never return my calls or respond to my e-mails. So sad.

As always, thanks for reading! Now I'm going to wrap up this intro before it's longer than the story.

A queen never ogles, especially a married one. It was rather out of character for Clarisse the Person as well. Yet, there she was - Clarisse Renaldi, Queen of Genovia. Ogling.

She didn't mean to do it. She happened to be standing out on her balcony for some air, noting how strange the breeze felt as it tousled her freshly and radically shorn locks, when the security team came by on their morning run. The man bringing up the rear was someone she didn't recognize. He was clearly not last because he was in inferior shape. He seemed to have separated himself from the pack a bit, was in some sort of runner's zone. He radiated unyielding competence and a fiery intensity. His aerobic breathing and pumping arms created a powerful rhythm that commanded an elite performance from his lean, muscular body.

Not a lot of hair. A neatly trimmed beard made up for some of the hair that was lacking on the top of his head. His clothes were black. A silver glint from something around his neck and tucked into his shirt. Military ID tags, maybe? He looked like a military man. Clarisse's eyes moved to his chest as though she would be able to make out what was hidden underneath his t-shirt, but she was quickly distracted by the way the garment pulled taut over his torso and across his strong shoulders. It was just a t-shirt - a plain, black, sweaty cotton t-shirt. But it looked awfully good stretched over his fit frame.

She dragged her eyes back up to his face. Despite his focus and intensity, she was surprised to see something there that was suggestive of kindness. She wondered if his features softened in repose.

He really was not her type, but he was undeniably good-looking. Alluring and enigmatic. Somehow safe and dangerous at the same time.

In the cool of the morning, Clarisse felt a trifle warm.

She leaned back against the wall, her eyes lingering on the unfamiliar figure as he passed, and pretended the view from behind was not just as pleasant as it had been from the front. She was unaware that her lips had parted slightly and that one of her hands was absently fingering the chain of her necklace. She was also unaware that her personal assistant had stepped through the doorway from her office.

"Anything interesting, Your Majesty?"

Clarisse managed to not jump out of her skin. The casual observer would never have known. Margaret knew.

"Just out for some air, Margaret." As quickly as that, she was all business. "Do you have those documents ready for me to review?"

"Yes, if you've finished reviewing the security staff."

Margaret, a palace veteran, had been her assistant from the day of Clarisse's coronation, and before that, had been a counselor and confidante to Clarisse from early in her princess years. She was also the only human being who could get away with a comment like that. It did not save her from an icy glare. The unflappable Margaret moved aside to let Clarisse pass, then followed her into the office.

Clarisse reached her desk and sighed. She'd been caught, so she might as well ask. "Who is the new security guard?"

Margaret wisely suppressed a smirk. "His name is Joseph, he's Spanish, he is recently retired from the military."

"You seem to know a great deal about him."

Margaret rolled her eyes. "His arrival has caused a stir among the staff. Particularly, the female members of the staff."

Clarisse's eyebrows arched gracefully. "Is that so?" she asked, almost convincing in her attempt to sound as though her interest were waning while she poured a cup of tea.

"Yes, so don't worry." Margaret turned, but not before Clarisse caught a glimpse of her lips mischievously upturned. "You're not the only one." She proceeded to the door leading to her desk in the outer office, not bothered in the least by the chill rolling off her employer in her direction. She spun around just before she disappeared from sight. "Oh, and by the way, you'll be meeting him later today."

"Oh?" Clarisse managed a frosty nonchalance as she lifted her teacup.

"Yes. From what I understand, he's been hired to fill the position of Her Majesty's personal bodyguard."

She didn't have to stick around to enjoy the satisfaction that came from hearing Clarisse spit out her tea.

The End