Disclaimer: The characters from the Princess Diaries belong to Meg Cabot and Walt Disney Productions. I do not own them, make money off of them or even pretend too. I only borrow them.
Rating: K.
Summary: A little remembrance on when Clarisse's feelings changed for Joseph.
This was originally written for the Queen's Chamber Princess Dairies Appreciation Week but due to circumstances beyond my control, I missed it by a day. So, I'll put it here.
Thanks to Susan G for the best edit and encouragement to post.
She could still clearly remember the first time she had thought of Joseph as more than just a body guard. It was a memory that made her blush, silly as it was, but never-the-less one she liked to take out from time to time and look at from many different angles. She had always liked to study things from each perspective, making sure she fully understand every side of an issue -- whether it be serving cheese cake for dessert or whether the Genovian Navy really could get by another year without a new aircraft carrier.
The occasion had been just last year. The inhabitants of the palace (for the most part) had come down with the flu and in the best interests of everyone, a statement had been released, asking everyone in the palace to stay there and vice versa. She, herself was beginning to feel better after three long days of utter agony and was walking down to the kitchen to get some tea (yes, she knew she had a maid to do that, but she really wanted the exercise), when she had come across Charlotte who had been thinking the same thing.
Walking together, they had found the kitchen deserted, the lunch dishes already washed and put away by the faithful Pierre. Charlotte had wanted to boil the water while her majesty sat resting, but Clarisse would have none of it. "I'll get the kettle brewing and make the tea, and you see if you can find anything that might be edible. If I have to eat any more soup, I may have to behead someone!" They both had giggled.
The tea soon let out a fresh orange smell and Charlotte had been successful in her search, finding some pumpkin bread and a stick of butter. Queen and assistant had sat down at the table, the snack and shared chit-chat turning them into best friends, at least for the moment.
"I always wanted a day where I could just lie in bed and watch television or read." Charlotte confided. "But I do have to tell you that after three days of doing just that, I couldn't wait to get up."
"I know exactly what you mean, Charlotte." Clarisse nodded. "Not to mention that I believe that cold medicine did very strange things to my dreams."
"I wasn't sure what I did dream and what was real." the young woman agreed. "And at one point, I got so bored that I started playing I Spy, which isn't the easiest thing to do by yourself."
Clarisse looked over at her assistant, her face showing she had no idea what the other woman was talking about. "I Spy?"
"Sure. It's a game that we play, that we used to play, when we were little. It's a good game to play in the car or on a picnic or something. For instance, I would say 'I spy a tree' and then my sister would try to outdo me by saying 'I spy a maple tree'. And it goes on from there."
"That would have been quite good to know about with two growing boys to keep quiet." the queen grimaced, shaking her head. "I do wish that someone would write a book about games to keep children occupied."
Charlotte smiled, happy to share this time with her monarch. Clarisse really wasn't all bristle and bark, like some thought her to be, and it was moments like this that the aide knew so.
"So, I would say 'I spy a cup'?" her majesty questioned.
"Right, and then I will say "I spy a coffee cup." Charlotte nodded.
Before long they had "spied" everything in sight and weren't able to top each other with any more items in the kitchen. The door to the room was open and so things outside became fair game.
"I spy a vase." Charlotte smiled to which Clarisse answered "I spy a golden Ming vase." and so on.
When Joseph took that moment to start walking down the hall, towards the kitchen, the queen couldn't let it go. "I spy a man."
"I spy the head of security." Charlotte giggled.
"I spy Joseph in his bathrobe." Clarisse giggled back.
"I spy sexy Joe in his pajamas." Charlotte blushed and giggled.
And that was it. That was the first moment that Clarisse Renaldi had ever thought of Joseph as more than just the man who watched over her when she was out in public. And suddenly as she watched him, coming closer, bowing as he saw his queen sitting in the room of his destination, she saw exactly what Charlotte had spied.
He wasn't tall but his carriage was well-defined and he actually looked taller than he was. He was so handsome that it almost took her breath away to see him there, looking so stern and fierce and yet, somehow, gentle. As she watched him make a cup of tea, noticing for the first time how long his fingers were and how big his hands were, a thought that made her blush started going through her mind.
"Are you all right, your majesty?" Charlotte became immediately concerned.
Joseph too, looking up from his tea, gave her a worried smile. "Perhaps you should return to bed." he said rather huskily. (Well, he had been sick!, she told her over-active imagination) "You don't want to overdo your first day up."
He walked her back to her room himself. She wasn't sure if he was even aware that his hand cradled the small of her back as they walked, "taking it slow" so she wouldn't tire easily. And then he opened her door for her and wished her pleasant dreams.
Almost every night since then, her dreams were indeed quite pleasant. They had all been of Joseph. But that had been a year ago and when his familiarity had gone back to pure business, so had her thoughts (for the most part). So when he had come to her yesterday, telling her that she had been wearing the color of mourning too long and had taken her through the beautiful steps of the dance, she once more had felt that moment of -- was it desire?
She hadn't wanted the dance to end, thinking how beautifully he was leading her through the steps, his hand on her waist, his breath warm as they had moved in rhythm. When the music had finally stopped, she hadn't been sure what to do and had felt like laughing and crying all at the same time.
"Thank you for the dance, your Majesty." he had said, bowing his head, almost curtly.
So that was the end of that. He had just been trying to make her feel better, she had reasoned. But then he had touched her cheek and had whispered her name softly, before backing away from her and heading out into the hallway. Maybe it wasn't the end.