So very, very sorry it took so long but life interfered with my muse.

13. You're My Aunt? ... Shut Up!

Joseph leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Clarisse's lips, his hands moving to cup her cheeks. His tongue daringly traced her bottom lip, begging for entrance to her silken lips. His wife moaned and looped her arms around his neck, her hands threading through his fringe of hair.

Clarisse's hands were still on his head, her finger nails gently grating against his scalp. A moan slipped through her lips as his lips moved from her neck to her collar bone, his tongue licking a particularly sensitive spot. She gasped as her body began to ignite into a raging inferno, her skin tingling and her eyes fluttering closed.

Joseph groaned as his erect member pressed against her thigh, his boxer shorts the only thing keeping his flesh from contacting hers. He kept his lips on her collar bone as his hands slowly moved down her arms and sides. His hands moved back up, causing a sweet tingling sensation throughout her body. He began placing tender kisses along her stomach and up to her breasts where his lips ventured along the mounds.

Clarisse was panting now, her heart pounding against her chest so loudly, she was sure he was able to hear and feel it. Her hands gripped at the sheets and she drew her legs up slightly. Her right hand moved to his back, gently scraping up his back and against his neck before cupping his scalp again. A gasp escaped her as he pressed delicate kisses in the valley between her breasts and worked his way back up her chest and to her neck. His lips eventually met hers again and passionately kissed her, his tongue tracing her bottom lip, begging for entrance in the petal-soft lips he got so much pleasure in knowing would forever be his to kiss.

Joseph continued his ministrations, a gasp escaping him when his lover hooked her thumbs in his boxer shorts and quickly dropped them to his knees. He broke their kiss and looked into her eyes as she helped him rid himself of the bothersome trousers.

"Make love to me," she whispered softly, her words barely audible to either of them.

He simple nodded and bit his lip as he moved to enter, so nervous about not being able to please her.

The couple became one with loud moans of pleasure leaving both of their throats, her higher, more airy one clashing passionately with his deep velvety baritone one. They moved cautiously at first, as if they were in need of a map; they soon found their rhythm and moved together as one, soft gasps escaping her lips accompanied by his deep growls and groans.

Joseph bent down and kissed her deeply as he quickened their pace, his grip on her hips tightening ever so slightly. His wife tilted her body, her hips more than anything else, to help bring them both the fullest amount of pleasure they could receive from one another. He moaned into her mouth as her muscles clenched slightly around him.

Clarisse looped her arms around his neck again as they broke their kiss for a gasp of air. She brought his lips back to hers and kissed him with a fiery passion that filled her heart and was for him and him only. She felt herself teetering near the edge of her climax, her muscles tightening and readying themselves for the explosion that was sure to come.

Her husband felt the same building sensation in his body and continued to kiss her as deeply and passionately as he could, only breaking away slightly to breathe before plunging back into the passionate battle of their tongues.

He broke his hold of her lips and cried out her name as he came, his name falling from her lips as well, her orgasm rocking her as his shook his core. He collapsed beside her, not registering the fact that she rolled with him to keep him inside of her as the remnants of their climaxes dissolved into their forms.

Her eyes met his as they opened their eyes and looked at each other, a blissfully content smile gracing their features.

"That was ... amazing," she whispered, still gasping for breath as her heart continued to pound against her chest. "Absolutely amazing."

He could do nothing but grin broader as she complimented him. "Yes, you were," he replied, chuckling softly at the blush that filled her cheeks.

His hand cupped said cheeks and brought her slightly swollen lips to his for a tender, gentle kiss, not of the fiery passion as the ones before, but of the gentle flow of love that they shared.

Clarisse broke the kiss and settled into his embrace as a yawn left her body.

"Tired, Mrs. Elizondo?" her husband asked, the grin on his face evident in his voice.

She could only grin in return and look up at him with tired, but elated, eyes.

"Yes, I am," she replied softly. "Mr. Elizondo seems to know how to take care of his wife properly. Not that I didn't enjoy it, mind you. He's quite pleasurable. Utterly, wonderfully exhausting." She smiled as his body shook softly with his laughter and relished in the feeling of his arms wrapping around her and holding her naked form to his equally nude one.

Joseph gently let his hand stroke her back, coaxing her to sleep after uttering a soft "I love you, Clarisse." He felt tears well in his eyes as the words he had longed to hear left her lips.

"I love you, too, Joseph."

My head resting on his chest, I lie in his warm embrace, an embrace that promises safety and protection. It feels like finally being home again after a long and tiring journey, which had no destination. And next to the sensation of having him back, there is something else.

In moments like these, when there is suddenly all the calmness and silence after the passion and heat, I always feel something like equality. In these moments and what precedes them, the roles shift, I feel equal to him. I'm not the superior one then, the Queen vanishes in favour of someone else. And so does the Chief of Security. I love them both, but I love them differently and for different reasons. The one for his admirable strength and the other one for his cosy warmth. It's like opening a polished safe out of steal, huge and imposing, just to find a teddy inside. By now an old one maybe, worn from all the hugs over the past years, but the little black button eyes still look the same, touching him still feels the same. Almost forgotten delight and pleasure.

I'm glad that he still can make me feel like that. A simple touch of him can create those shivers running through my body, desire and warmth. Moreover, I am glad that he still longs for me and my body after all these years. Then my body probably always pleased him most, even though then he hadn't been allowed to touch me.

Therefore, I sometimes have the slight fear this might change one day. A feeling I think is understandable. After all Rupert had turned away from me after a time, being bored with me. A scary feeling, because, honestly, there aren't many other things I can offer or give. At least nothing, any other woman could give him, too.

Yes, he chose me. He chose me over brighter ones, prettier ones, funnier ones, easier ones. He chose me over Livvy. He says he did, because he loves me. I know he does. Nevertheless, I don't know why he waited for me this long. Especially as it wasn't love at first sight, for none of us, although – in tender and relaxed moments like these - he sometimes declares it was. Sweet lie. There wasn't love. Not in the very beginning and not for a very long time. At first there was duty, which then slowly developed into friendship. That's how it is. There were no fairies singing and turning the world into a glittering wonderland with their fairy dust, when we first met. It wasn't magical.

It is now.

Megan was playing absent-mindedly with the Queen's dog, Maurice. He was the biggest dog she had seen so far and normally she was afraid of dogs, but Maurice was so gentle despite his height that Megan forgot the reason why she should be afraid of him. But only momentarily.

A rabid dog had made its way into her mother's garden. It had corned Megan as she had stood, frozen in fear, tensing for an attack. Her mother had stood near the house, her eyes riveted on the dog and her daughter, unable to move. And then the old lady living next door to them had stepped between the little girl and the dog, and just as the animal sprang, her husband had fired his ancient rifle from WWII, and the dog had fallen dead at their feet.

Mia had enough of these pre-coronation chitters. Her mother and Charlotte were worse than her Grandma. Speaking of her Grandma, Mia had to grin cheekily. Since the surprise wedding Mia had rarely seen either of the newlyweds. 'Prolly stuck in their suite having fun while I run amok in the palace,' Mia thought highly amused at the thought. She had only seen Queen Clarisse let her guard down and be herself when she had visited her in San Francisco. There the protocol had been less strict and Clarisse's responsibilities less pressing. Besides Joseph had been close to her the entire time. Mia smiled dreamily and a bit wistfully; how she wished for a love like that.

Sighing, Mia turned towards her grandmother's gardens. For the first time she understood their calming quality. Among the roses, lilies, and all the other flowers, Mia's heart lifted up and the frown vanished from her forehead. She hadn't been a fan of flowers before but now she bent forward, cupping a blooming rose in her hand and sniffing its heady scent delicately. The intoxicating aroma began to work its wonder on her, making her forget the treaties and foreign correspondence waiting on her grandmother's desk for her. Or her mother and Charlotte, for that matter ... probably turning the palace inside out by now in their search for her.

With a broad grin slowly spreading over her face, Mia rejoiced in her solitude and jumped a little. Of course, she knew Lionel was not that far behind her and Shades watched her from the security room, but this was as close to being alone as she got outside her suite.

Suddenly Mia heard the happy bark of Maurice. Smiling to herself, she decided to pay the lovebirds a visit. Maybe her grandmother could let her into her little world and tell her a few tricks. Mia certainly hoped so.

Rounding the corner of a hedge, she was nearly run over by her grandmother's big, white poodle. Maurice raced after a tennis ball, long legs almost letting him fly over the ground. A bunching of muscle and he leapt up, catching the ball between his teeth effortlessly. Mia watched Maurice trot off again, without so much as glancing at her. Mia chuckled and followed the dog. He was as intend on her grandmother and the mistress of his heart as Joe was.

As she rounded the corner fully, Mia suddenly halted in her tracks as if she had walked straight into a brick wall.

The first summer she had come to Genovia and had met Maurice, the dog wouldn't let her touch him at all. He only watched her out of brown, hostile eyes and kept close to his mistress, as if trying to protect her from that strange new person. He hadn't let her pet him till the next summer and then only while Clarisse held his leash tightly in her hand. And now he was running towards a young girl ... a young, strange girl!

Huffing a little in frustration, Mia started to lengthen her stride and march right up to that stranger. "Hey, what are you doing with my grandmother's dog? He isn't a lap puppy; you better be careful," she blurted out, all at once.

The young girl seemed to jump from fright, due to the sudden outburst. Mia noticed the slight flush on the young one's cheeks as she retreated from her and patted Maurice on his back as if hoping to use him as a shield. Her shoulders seemed to slump a little, causing her head to fall forward and allow her hair to flow in front of her embarrassed expression. Her mouth was still visible, as she mumbled something under her breath and gnawed the bottom lip.

"Sorry?" asked Mia; her voice a little softer this time, due to realisation of the true effect of her professional vocal capacity. Megan backed a little further away and Mia had enough. "Hey, kiddo, I won't bite your head off! So tough it up and tell me who you belong to."

"I'm ... I'm sorry," the girl stuttered and Maurice caught the slight tremble of her body next to his. He knew by now that Mia was like a little dog; she would bark a lot but not actually bite. No need to worry about her ... but why was his new friend afraid of her then? Looking from one woman to the other, Maurice tried to figure out what he could do. And then he knew.

Dropping the ball in front of Mia's feet, he looked up to her expectantly and wagged his tail, clearly trying to animate her to throw the ball.

Mia sighed, but obliged and grabbed it before throwing it far away for the dog to bound after. She took in a deep breath and looked at Megan. The girl rocked from her heel to her toes a few times, biting her lip before she finally looked up at Mia.

"I'm Megan," she said softly. "I'm just playing with Maurice ... I was taking him for a walk."

Mia nodded, but still didn't understand how she had such a sudden companionship with the dog.

"Oh ... well, I, umm ... How long have you been walking with Maurice? He's not usually so ... so ... well, he doesn't usually take well to meeting new people."

"Oh, I'm not a new person, Your Highness. Don't worry. Maurice isn't afraid of me ... he knows, like my Dad, I would never hurt him. And I have been walking with him for today only."

"Dad? Your Dad knows Maurice too?"

"Yeah, my dad gave Maurice to Her Majesty. You know him, too, Your Highness. My dad's name is Joe." She turned to the dog, speaking to him now instead of Mia. "You're a good watch dog for Her Majesty, Maurice! Yes, you do! And Dad just adores you for that, of course."

Mia stood there, mouth open, and starting to fume ... as the tid-bits of information began to slowly seep through to her mind.

"J ... Joe?" she stuttered. "Your Dad is Joe? My Joe? Grandma's Joe?"

"Yes ..." Megan smiled, but her happiness quickly faded with one look at Mia's expression. "I hope that's alright ..." Mia didn't reply, but still stood there, open-mouthed, and shocked. "Excuse me? Are you alright? I ..."

"... I'm fine. Perfectly ... fine," Mia pressed out, before taking a deep breath, and trying to calm down ... but she was unsuccessful. "You're Joe's daughter?" she asked again, not willing to believe her ears.

Megan only nodded, but a worried expression crept onto her face. She reached out a hand to touch the young woman's arm, in case she needed steadying. Before she could reach her though, Mia burst out, "You're my aunt? ... SHUT UP!"

Seeing the stunned expression of Megan's face, Mia knew she had no idea what she was talking about. Instead Mia slowly began to understand why there had been whispering between her grandmother's ladies-in-waiting and why Charlotte had been so adamant that the Queen should not be disturbed. Turning around and running off in the direction of the castle, she couldn't get away from Megan fast enough. She had to find her grandmother.