Author's note: So I set out to write something sweet and fluffy and, as always, it turned into misery. Mainly because that's what I do best. I hope you enjoy this bittersweet little gift anyway.

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They belong to Disney and Meg Cabot and I make no money from writing about them.


He scooped the whimpering little blanket out of the car, lamenting the smell of puppy that had started to invade his previously perfectly clean vehicle. Slamming the Jaguar door, he held the blanket to his chest and groaned when he heard whimpering within.

"Hey, it's okay," he muttered to the little bundle, feeling particularly stupid, "It's okay."

"Are you talking to yourself?"

He turned around on his heels to face Shades, who was grinning childishly.

"No," he said sharply, irritated by the other man's amusement, "No actually."

Shades pointed to the blanket bundled against Joseph's black shirt. Joseph held it close with one hand and pushed his sunglasses back with the other. He felt suddenly caught and embarrassed by his actions.

"Is that your love-child then? Has your filthy past finally caught up with you?"

Joe gave him a dirty look then felt a reluctant laugh bubble in his throat, "No. I was never that careless. It's a puppy actually."

Shades laughed at first but then realised he was serious and his face became incredulous.

"A puppy? What on earth do you want with a puppy? You hate any animals that aren't your horse. Or made exclusively of metal and have engines."

"Not for me," he held the little bundle nearer as it shivered, "It's not for me."

"Let me see?"

Joe laughed a little, "Getting soft Shades?"

"Nah, just let me see it, come on Joe. I like dogs."

"Be careful," he grumbled, "He is timid."

Joseph watched as Shades approached him, a childish smile on his face. He was surprised his second in command was so naively excited about a puppy but he unfurled the blanket anyway to reveal a snowy white little face.

"This is…" he rubbed a finger under the tiny chin, "Well I don't know. He doesn't have a name yet."

"Awww, he's so cute," Shades murmured gently.

"Is this the twilight zone?" Joseph flipped the blanket back over the puppy's head.

"Awww come on," Shades smiled, "You can't deny that he's very cute."

Joseph smirked, "No, I can't."

He walked out of the cool garage and into the sun and Shades followed beside him.

"So who's he for?"

"Must you need to know everything?"

"Just, you know, doing my job," Shades laughed, "You seem irritated."

"You, my friend, are irritating me," he answered, sliding the glasses back on to his face against the winter sun.

"Please, don't be vague, tell me what's getting to you."

Joseph laughed and the little bundle gave a weak bark.

"He likes you," Shades observed as they wandered into the gardens.

"Of course he does," he answered glibly.

"So he's for the Queen, right?"

He had wondered when Shades would eventually say this. At first the younger man had been reluctant to engage him in conversation at all but three years after his arrival he was more a friend than he was a subordinate. He was grateful for the quiet companionship; the beers, the basketball, the football, the jokes. He drew the line though, even with Shades, when it came to talking about her. And the timing was gossip-worthy, even if the gift was not.

"He is yes," he answered after a while, "Who's in charge of the shift?"

"Anton and Lars," Shades answered, clever enough to know not to go on, "I'm going home, got a bunch of flowers and some chocolates."

"Hand them off, will you, then make sure the log is done," he asked, "And then enjoy your night."

"Course," Shades nodded, "Anything else?"

Joseph considered it for a moment, "No, nothing."

"Okay," Shades pushed the blanket away again, revealing the little wide-eyed face, "Want me to sort some food for this guy?"

Joseph smiled, "No thank you. I'll think of something."

He began climbing the stairs to the ballroom, holding the warm little thing close.

"Hey, boss?"

He turned on the middle steps.

"Shades?"

"She'll love him."

Joseph merely nodded and turned.

He had thought as much, when he organised to buy the poodle from a breeder in Libit. He had expected him to be bigger though, to be honest, and he felt like a huge fool carrying the trembling bundle as if it were made of glass. Walking through the quiet halls, he considered his decision to be a good one, despite his misgivings about the bundle of fluff currently yawning widely and poking his head out. The family had pets when the boys were younger, of course, great Irish red setters that were Rupert's added security. She had told him, in passing once, that when she was a girl it was poodles the Gerarrd's raised on their endless estates.

It had all started when he read an article in the newspaper about the benefits of owning a pet. The article had claimed they were good for blood pressure and stress and all manner of things and he figured that she needed something to help her do that.

And plus, he had to admit to himself, the dog was very cute.

And he wanted to get her something, even if he knew he shouldn't.

God he was a fool.

He stole in to the quiet halls of the Royal apartments, the small warm creature snuggled against his breast. He set it down on the couch and it clambered out of the folds, revealing a long face with large black eyes set against snowy fur.

"Hey," he rubbed a finger under its chin, "Hey little guy."

The dog gave a yelp of recognition and nipped at his finger with sharp teeth.

"Ow," he pulled his finger away, "We'll need to teach you some manners."

"Teach who manners?"

She was standing in the door, watching him.

"This guy."

She examined the bundle for a moment, then smiled unsurely.

"He's adorable."

She came towards him, sliding off her shoes as she went and kicking them aside carelessly. She was grinning now.

"He's all yours…" he held the dog between his hands, "If you want him."

She grinned like a child and scooped the dog up and against her chest.

"For me?"

The incredulity was evident in her voice, mixed with excitement.

He shrugged, "Read it helps with stress and gives you a focus that isn't…your, you know, job. When Mia isn't here…"

She was holding the little creature to her and he was yawning sleepily.

"Yeah," he continued, "Just…"

"Thank you, Joseph," she whispered, and there was sadness in her voice, "I really am grateful for him."

There was an awkward silence then, in which neither of them said anything. She was stroking the puppy's nose gently, and examining his tiny face.

"Well…" he breathed out then turned to go but was stalled as she said:

"I didn't buy you anything, I mean for…this day," she shook her head, looking not at him but at the puppy.

"I read, too, that it's a day to buy something for someone you love…to show them…," he shrugged his shoulders upwards, "It wasn't about that anyway, not really. Not about roses or chocolates. I wanted to make you happy."

She smiled, "You did, you certainly did. I am sorry I didn't- Oh Joseph, I can't seem to find the words. I can't seem to find the bravery either."

He felt a sudden intensity which reared up in his chest, and it was misery, "Clarisse, you make me happy, even though you don't want to believe me, even though you won't let me get near you. I don't need a gift to show me that. And maybe, if you'll accept something from me, then it's a small break through. Maybe one day, you'll accept me."

She nodded, said nothing apart from, "What shall I name him?"

"He doesn't look like a Buster, or a Milo…"

She shuddered, "Common names for common dogs. He's regal."

He laughed at her then, her snobbery in the face of naming even her household pet seeming absurd in the sadness of the situation.

"What about Maurice?" She held the puppy out, "He would suit that."

"Because he's a little soldier? An infantry man to guard your chambers?"

"Yes."

He bowed then, and turned on his heels to go.

She said suddenly into the silence which stretched between them, "I won't ever know how to thank you."

He turned back to her, "You will. One day."

"But not on Valentine's Day."

He didn't turn to answer, because he knew she didn't want him to. And anyway, it wasn't like it was a question.