Chapter 11 - Fairy Tales

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fairy tale - noun 1. a fairy story. 2. magical or idealized: a fairy-tale romance.

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Clarisse was quite angry at the situation at hand. She had no one come to visit her, not that she particularly cared for visitors, and no reason to live. Knowing that she had people who wanted to save her, broke her up inside, adding to the horrible depression she had fallen into.

As she stared at the ceiling in her horrible sunny yellow hospital room, she had absolutely nothing to do but think. Think about how she had missed out spending the rest of her life with the man she loved so much. Think about Joe not knowing where he was, and worst of all, who she was. Now that she was stuck here (for 'observation' they told her), she couldn't even visit him.

"Five years." She whispered to the nurse who had entered the room.

"Excuse me?" The nurse had an Oklahoma accent, which was very odd in Genovia.

"Five lousy years." Clarisse repeated, louder this time.

"I don't understand."

"I got five years with the man of my dreams. The only man I ever really loved."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Oh, dear. You don't know the half of it."

"I. . ." The nurse stuttered as Clarisse was crying and yelling hysterically.

"Want to know what else is funny? I tried to kill myself, because living without him near me is too hard. In fact, it's next too impossible. For me. I spent almost forty years with a man I didn't love, had his children and I can't even live without love now. I waited too damn long for him, that's the problem. And then this happens, and I can't even get out. It's because of that stupid doctor having to be heroic and save me. Where's Kevorkian when you need him?" The nurse was terrified. "I just wanted to get out."

"That's never the answe..."

"Don't tell me what the answer is. I know what the answer is. I'm seventy, and apparently, I have a lot to live for!" Clarisse hadn't noticed her granddaughter standing at the door for the first time in two days.

"Grandma!" Mia scolded, placing her hands on the shoulders of the nurse. "Forgive her."

"Your majesty!" The nurse bowed. "Of course, it's no trouble at all." She ran out quickly, Mia sitting in the chair by Clarisse's bed.

"Mia. Darling, how are you?" Mia just shook her head. "Ok...let me tell you a story."

"What?"

"Listen now, I have an anecdote for you." Clarisse tried to smile as she thought back.

"Your majesty, it's quite cold out here. Would you please come back inside?"

"Joseph, either you are worried about me, or don't want to be forced to sit outside any longer."

"Both." This made her giggle, a beautiful sight to Joe. For a woman who had just lost her husband two months ago, she sure did sparkle. She was just on the edge of fifty-nine, approaching sixty. He was a year her senior.

"Seriously, though, come inside, Clarisse. It's freezing."

"I'll just be a minute. Come sit with me."

"But it's cold!" He protested, knowing the minute he refused , she would put on her face. The face that must have gotten her lots of things in parliament, the face that begged. With her beautiful blue eyes wide, her lips slightly pushed out in a pouty fashion, she knew should could get anything out of her head of security. "Fine." He was unable to resist, completely at her power.

"Are you shivering?" She laughed, looking at him softly in the pale moonlight. "Here." The blanket she had been holding around herself was now transformed into a blanket for two, wrapped around both their shoulders. He felt strange being this close to her. Close enough to feel her hot breath on his neck. Close enough to touch her.

She was still in mourning. Off-limits. She hadn't taken off her ring, she said it was her duty to her country to remain in mourning for at least six-months. But she hated it. Black was not becoming on a woman with such a colorful personality.

"Cla...risse." Joe chattered, trying to sound wistful. He was enjoying looking at her, well, at least looking at the side of her face.

Until she turned.

They were inches away from each other. A breath or two was all that separated them from what was meant to be.

"Yes?" She whispered, the steam from her breath blanketing his face.

"What are you thinking about?" She was afraid to enter the world of the question, afraid to let him know.

"I was..." She paused, almost ready to say it. "You."

"Wh...at?" Joe barely got his sentence out before the gap between them was closed, their lips in an embrace that could only make them warmer.

"Oh...I'm sorry, I...I shouldn't have...oh..." Clarisse sputtered, trying to get away, before realizing the blanket kept them close.

"No! No." He reached and cupped her cheek. "It wasn't wrong." If he only said it aloud, maybe she would change her mind, maybe he could change his own. He knew it was wrong, she was the queen. The queen that was in mourning.

"It was, Joseph. Excuse me." She ripped the blanket off herself, leaving her side in a heap on the ground. Joseph watched her run away, realizing then that she may have been a little tipsy.

"Your first kiss?" Mia asked Clarisse when she had finished.

"Hmm...The first of many." She laughed. "I kept saying how wrong it was, but it just kept happening."

"Nice." Mia giggled, glad her grandma was laughing. "Tell me another one." She didn't really want to know, but if it made Clarisse happy, it was worth it.

"Alright."

"They had the same idea I had, but now the garden is occupied" Clarisse laughed as they danced around the room, finally getting a public dance together after so many years. "How about the other balcony?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"What...oh!" Clarisse giggled like a teenager. "That balcony." He nodded and walked off at the end of the song, with Clarisse following him. He waved off the guards and gingerly reached for her hand. As scared as she was, she let him take it, and he rose it to his mouth, kissing it lightly through her white glove. She looked shocked, but knew this was only the beginning. They reached her room and she opened the door softly, leading Joe by his hand to the balcony. The garden was lit up beautifully, the fountains flowing.

"Clarisse."

"Joseph."

"I have waited so long for a true moment alone with you. Where you are mine."

"I am yours." She repeated, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Take me." She whispered against his mouth as they kissed, hearing fireworks going off on the other side of the consulate.

"Yes, ma'am." He mocked, grabbing one hand and pulling the glove off, never breaking the contact with her eyes. He pulled slowly, then discarded the piece of silk on the ground, followed by the other one, capturing her lips in another kiss.

"Stop!" Mia held out her hand to emphasize her point. "So you mean to tell me that while I was celebrating my last moments of freedom you were..." She trailed off. Thinking back to that night. "So that's where you went!" Clarisse laughed slightly.

"Yes."

"I didn't know you had it in you."

"Me neither." He voice was starting to lose it's color.

"Those are wonderful stories grandma."

"Just fairy tales now." She whispered.

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A/N: I know, I know, I said occupied. Don't yell at me, I didn't want to mess up the other word. I am of one language, and it doesn't look promising for me to become bilingual.