A/N: Many thanks to the Captain of my Beta...Captain Weirdo.

There are a few flashbacks in this one - hopefully you can follow the various breaks, etc.

'Fifteen years.'

That phrase kept running rampant through Joseph's mind. After his wife's confession that morning, they had been interrupted before she had been able to tell him much more than that. After their ardent round of lovemaking, and his transgression of lying to her, he had hoped to spend the day with her, to make up for his stupidity. But, the best laid plans of mice and men...

Mia had interrupted their second interlude of the morning, asking for help concerning some various treaties that were in their final stages. Sensing she was torn between her husband and her granddaughter, Joseph had encouraged Clarisse to assist with her granddaughter. As much as he hated to be separated from her, he knew that she felt the need to help Mia as much as possible.

'Fifteen years…which means it was about 6 years ago' he thought. 'A lot happened six years ago.' Rupert had died nearly eight years ago, and Philippe nearly 7…and Mia. Mia had found a way into her grandmother's life 6 years ago. Joseph smiled; it had been Mia that had been the turning point in their relationship. Mia who gave Clarisse hope, Mia who brought her grandmother out of her depression…Mia who brought them together.

He had taught Mia how to dance; how to 'Wango' as the young woman described it. He had spent all afternoon teaching her how to spin, how to twirl, how not to look like a doggy on a dashboard. All the while, Clarisse had sat nearby, occasionally looking up at their progress. And finally, Mia had danced well enough for her grandmother's approval, well enough to leave. Clarisse had been so tired, so worn from watching her granddaughter try to blossom quickly, that Joseph had felt the need to do something for Clarisse…and so they had danced. They wango'ed, they spun, and they moved together like swans on a lake. He had told her that day that he thought she had been wearing black too long, and shortly thereafter, she began wearing other colors. She began to be "Clarisse" again, and not the Queen in mourning. 'It must've been that dance.' He thought.

"Hello darling." His wife breezed into their suite. Joseph looked up with a cheesy grin on his face…he knew his wife's secret.

"The wango?" he asked.

"I beg your pardon?" She looked at him quite confused.

"The wango." He stated it as if she should know exactly what he was talking about. He looked at her and realized that he might have miscalculated her feelings…she had no clue what he was talking about. "When you first wanted me, was it during the wango?"

The look of utter shock on her face was priceless. 'Ha! I knew it!' he thought. But then, his ego was taken down 4 notches, when instead of the embarrassed blush he expected to see on her face, all she did was laugh.

"Is that what you've been doing all day? Trying to figure out when I knew I was in love with you?" She shook her head in merriment and continued to chuckle.

"Well, it wasn't exactly what I had planned to do all day. I had hoped that you would re-join me at lunch for some extracurricular activities." He gave her a wink.

She joined him on the couch with a sigh and closed her eyes. A faint smile graced her lips. "I would've loved to…but unfortunately, Portugal isn't agreeing to our terms of the treaty."

Joseph looked at his wife, and realized that she was a bit more tired than she let on. She had been helping Mia quite frequently lately, and with their penchant for making love, he wondered where she had gotten any energy at all.

"I believe I was in the bathtub the first time I realized I was in love with you." Those were the first words his wife had uttered in quite some time. After observing exactly how tired she was, Joseph had taken it upon himself to pamper her a bit. He had drawn her a hot bubble bath, and insisted that she take time to relax. She had insisted that he join her, and they had been relaxing in the tub for quite some time. She was lying back against him, her head on his shoulder, his legs wrapped around her, his arms encircling her.

"Oh, really?" He couldn't help but smile. So, his wife had fantasized about him.

"Mmm hmm. You had made me so angry that afternoon that I had drawn a bath just to relax." She smiled at the memory and turned slightly to look at him. "Although, this bath has a much nicer view." He smiled and tightened his embrace.

"And what did I do to make you so angry?" He knew that he and Clarisse had had different points of view on topics over the years, but he couldn't really recall ever having made her truly angry at him.

"You were right." She looked up at him mischievously.

He laughed. "Well, it does happen on occasion." He knew she hated being wrong, but she hated being proven wrong more than that.

She chuckled. "If that damn trolley car hadn't been there, I would've been right."

Now he was confused. What did a trolley car have to do with him, or much less him being right? "Clarisse, I'm afraid I don't follow what you're saying. What trolley car?"

"The one Mia ran into in San Francisco…"

"Ah!" Now he remembered. "But, I thought you said this morning that you were in love with me twenty years ago?"

He felt her shake her head. "No, I said that I realized that our friendship was more than just 'friendship' that there was love there. But I didn't fall in love with you until San Francisco."

"Ah, so it was the Wango."

"No! Would you just listen?" She was getting exasperated by his questions.

"Mmmm, go on." He gave her a kiss on her temple and waited for her to continue.

"It wasn't the wango, per say, it was everything you did for Mia on that trip. Everything you did for me." She sighed as she reminisced. "That night after the dinner…it was your encouragement that helped me see Mia not as my future queen but as my granddaughter."

Joseph had returned from taking Princess Mia home and found Charlotte in a bit of a tizzy. After seeing the guests out of the consulate, the Queen had insisted on doing more work that evening. Seeing Charlotte's distressed state, he entered her Majesty's office without an invitation, and was greeted by a stern glare. One that any other person would have taken as a gesture of "not now", but not Joseph. He knew that she was brooding over the evening's various disasters…a minor fire, broken glass, and flying fruit. Not to mention Mia attempting to become a wall-flower as they enjoyed coffee only to have Lord Fricker spill his drink all over her before knocking her into the harp, which set off another chain of events that lead to the Baroness Von Troken being soaked by a knocked over flower vase.

"Your majesty…" he had started to tell her that she needed to call it an evening.

"Not now, Joseph." She had said through tightly closed lips. She continued to work, ignoring the other occupants in the room. Joseph looked at Charlotte and indicated with a nod of his head that she should leave them alone. Charlotte looked from Joseph to the Queen, undecided as to what she should do. She realized that Joseph could possibly calm the Queen's nerves, but if he failed and she left the room – she could be the next victim of the Queen's anger.

"I'll go get you some tea your majesty." That would give her an excuse to leave, but also a reason to rejoin them if Joseph failed. He followed her to the door and shut it behind her, leaving him alone with the monarch.



"Clarisse…"

She looked up at him and glared. "I said, not now."

"Yes, now!" He bristled his response.

She slammed her pen down. "What do you want me to say? She's not ready? Fine! She's not ready. She's not ready to rule my country. She's not ready to take over the monarchy." She stood from her seat in anger and walked over to him. "Is that what you wanted to hear? That I've failed my one duty as queen? To produce an heir to the Renaldi line?"

"Is that what you think?" He asked.

"Isn't that what everyone thinks? Philippe was ready to take over the throne, Parliament was ready for him, I was ready for him. And now? Now there's nobody. After tonight, there will be no one left who will rule. How can I expect to present her to Parliament when I can't even present her to other dignitaries?" She turned and walked towards the window. She didn't want to look at him; she didn't want to see the disappointment in his eyes. The disappointment of her country…the disappointment that a Renaldi rule was coming to an end.

There was a faint knock on the door. 'Charlotte with the tea' he thought. He quietly opened the door and took the tray from the young assistant, and again dismissed her. Clarisse needed a friend tonight. Not her bodyguard, not her assistant, and most definitely not any more work.

Clarisse heard the clattering of the tea tray but refused to acknowledge it. She continued to look out into the night's sky. She wondered if she had made the right decision all those years ago. Rupert wanted more children, she didn't. She had provided him with what was known as the "heir and a spare" and had asked that she not have to have any more. She loved her sons; loved being a mother, but the process of producing the heirs was something that she had always felt uncomfortable with. The entire palace staff always knew when the royal couple was being intimate, and it was a bit daunting to her. So, once Philippe was born, she asked to have separate rooms. It's not that she didn't love Rupert...she did. She just needed her space, needed room, needed to be her own person. And now? Now she was alone. 

Pierre was with the church, Philippe and Rupert were both in their graves and her only grandchild was regretting the day she ever met her grandmother.

She felt Joseph move behind her before she saw the cup of tea being offered in front of her. She smiled as she took the offered cup. "Join me." She heard him whisper as she felt a hand on her back. How could she say no to that? There was always something comforting about Joseph. They sat on the couch in companionable silence. He rested his arm against the back of the couch, she sat near him, gazing into the brown liquid as if to glean wisdom from it.

"Was I wrong?" She looked up to him for the answer. He looked at her, not knowing the answer. Not really understanding the question. "Was I wrong to ignore her for fifteen years?"

"No." His hand moved to her shoulder and gently squeezed. 'So this is what's bothering her…not Parliament, not the royal line, it's Mia.' He thought.

"She told me that she didn't have a family with me because I ignored her for fifteen years." That statement had been plaguing her for days.

"She was confused." He looked at the woman sitting on the couch, and he began to understand exactly how broken she was. She had lost her husband and son in a matter of eighteen months, and now, she was fighting to hold together the only bit of family she had left. "As I drove her home this evening, do you know what concerned her the most? That she had let you down."

"Well, as a future queen…"

"No Clarisse, not that she had let the Queen down, that she had let her grandmother down." She stared at him blankly. "She wants to impress you…she wants you to love her."

"I do…" She looked at him, allowing him to see the confusion in her eyes.



He took a deep breath before he continued. "No, Clarisse, you love her because she is Philippe's daughter. You don't know your granddaughter."

"I've spent time with her…"

"To groom her, yes. But have you spent time with her? Have you gotten to know who she is?"

"Well, I…" She sighed. He had a point. "I guess I haven't." She looked down at her empty cup. 'What do I do now?' she thought. He took the cup from her hands and placed it on the table in front of them. He leaned back against the couch, and this time, he pulled her close to him. She leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Well, we will change that." He began stroking her back, trying to ease some of the tension from her body.

"It was lying there, wrapped in your arms that I knew I was in love with you."

"I loved you too." He kissed her neck, showing her his affection.

"mmm" She relaxed against him. There was just something about her husband that made all of her tension go away.

"I do believe you mentioned a bathtub?" He kissed her ear.

She chuckled and smiled. "Mmm hmm, but that was the next day."

"Mmm hmmm, you mean the day I was right."

After spending most of the night wrapped in Joseph's arms on the couch, Clarisse awoke in a chipper mood. She spent the morning in the small conservatory of the consulate. It was there she decided to take Joseph's words to heart and get to know her granddaughter. Her first surprise had come with Amelia wanting to show her grandmother her 'baby.'

Joseph took them to the auto shop to pick up the car, and that's when the argument ensued. Joseph had insisted that he join them for the day, after all, the queen and the princess needed protection, Clarisse had insisted that she needed the day alone with Amelia. It finally ended when Clarisse pulled rank on Joseph by saying that it had been his idea that she get to know her granddaughter better and that if he accompanied them, then it would be difficult for her not to be 'queen'.

He hadn't agreed with that logic, but finally was forced to give in when Clarisse told him that she would be with Amelia alone for the day and that was final.

They had spent a wonderful afternoon together, going to an arcade, eating a corndog, and even taking a stroll along the ocean. Joseph had spent the day pacing the floor of the consulate, every siren and loud noise working him into a tizzy. When they finally arrived back at the consulate some five hours later, escorted in a police car, Joseph lost it. He had Shades drive Amelia home while he went to talk to the Queen about her behavior.

He knocked on the door to her private chamber. After receiving an invitation to enter, he was greeted with the sight of the Queen with a broad smile on her face. "Oh, isn't she wonderful, Joseph?"

"Yes, your majesty…"

"I want to thank you for encouraging me to get to know her better. She's really an inquisitive young woman."

"Yes, your majesty."

"I don't think I've had that much fun since…well, since I can't remember."

"Getting into an accident and being escorted in a police car is fun? Not to mention that I spent all afternoon absolutely frightened for your life." He was angry. How could she not understand that what she and the princess had done was irresponsible, reckless, and dangerous?

"Oh Joseph, it wasn't like that…it…"

She never got to finish. He raised his voice at her, to which she raised her voice at him, and the argument ensued. Their second argument of the day…or was it a technically a continuation of the first? Either way, they yelled and ranted at each other for a good twenty minutes before he finally stormed out of her suite. She was visibly angry and absolutely furious at him. They didn't speak for the rest of the day. By evening, she was still tense from their argument, and decided to relax in a nice hot bath.

She laid in the water with bubbles up to her neck, relaxing against the cool porcelain, trying to forget about the argument, but that's all that she could think of. She closed her eyes, and allowed the argument to replay in her mind. He had been right; she needed to get to know Amelia. And she had, thanks to their wonderful day in the city. But he had also been right…she needed him with her. It was only by her quick thinking that they didn't have to go to the police station. She could just see the headlines now "Queen Clarisse and Princess Mia…Genovia's Thelma and Louise". She chuckled to herself…it was quite funny that they didn't believe her. She took a deep breath and let the therapy of the bubbles overtake her.

"A Queen should never be out in public without her security team."

"I wasn't being the queen today, I was being a grandmother."

"Clarisse, you can't pick and choose what you are. You ARE Queen, and I should be with you at all times, and if not me, then somebody from my staff." He roared at her.



"I can take care of myself." She was indignant on that point.

"No you can't." He laughed at her.

"I think I proved today that I can."

"That was dumb luck that you weren't seriously injured." He was pacing the floor; she tried to stay out of his way.

"I could've been injured if you were driving. It was the car's fault, not Mia's." He looked at her with fury in his eyes. No she wouldn't have been hurt, he wouldn't allow it.

"But, I need to know that you're safe at all times. I need to know." He walked up to her and placed her hands on his shoulders.

"Why?"

"Because I need to know." His face was inches from hers.

"Why?"

"Because…" And then his lips were pressed against hers. She felt his hard body pressing her into the wall. His tongue plundered her mouth, taking all that she would give him. She opened her mouth, trying to protest, but all she could do was surrender. She felt his hands in her hair, holding her close to him; his lips began moving from her mouth to her ear. Then she felt his hot tongue on her neck and all she could do was moan his name…

"Joseph." She awoke with a start and sat up in the tub. Her breathing was labored, her pulse quick, and she was…where was she? She looked around trying to orient herself. 'I was taking a bath and must have fallen asleep.' And then what? Why had she awoken so suddenly? It was all a bit of a haze to her. She 

remembered her argument with Joseph, how he had berated her for not taking a security detail with her, and then….? Then what? Her hand moved to her lips. He hadn't kissed her. That she was sure of – but why had she dreamed that he had?

"I dreamed about you that night…there in the tub. Just like I had dreamed of you the night prior, and other nights, I'm sure."

"Hmm, serves you right, you had invaded my dreams for many, many nights."

"Yes, but that was the first time I knew it was you that I had been dreaming about. That it was you my heart longed for, you whose kisses I wanted, you who stirred my soul."

"Ah, so is that why you kissed me?"