A/N OK, I've had to take a few plot liberties in this chapter (and from now on!) I've not seen all the second movie yet, but in any case, there seems to be a problem knitting the end of the first one (where Mia and her mum go to Genovia) and the second, where it seems she's been attending school in the States again. In my world, it works as follows… Mia travels with Clarisse back to Genovia at the end of the first movie, for good (leaving her mum in SF.) She makes regular trips home though. I'm going to run the two films together, ignoring the small age issue, and assume that the wedding (;o) yeah, like I was going to chop that bit…) is about two months after they land in Genovia. Hope that doesn't mess with your minds too much – not having seen all the film, I'm not sure how much I'm changing. On with the story…hope you're not getting too frustrated with my near-crawling speed in plot development!
Already having a hunch where he'd be, she decided to get herself up and ready first. After a quick shower and a little make-up, she was fit to face another day.
She found him still curled up in the chair, book open on his lap, sleeping like a little boy. Noting the title she wondered, mischievously, how far he'd managed to get before falling asleep. She knelt down beside the chair, and watched him sleep for a moment. He looked so innocent, so entirely at peace, so, well, beautiful. He worked so hard, and such long hours, worrying about her, never giving a single thought to his own well-being. If anyone deserved to rest it was him. It was with regret that she leant across to stroke his hand, rousing him gently. A small voice in the back of her mind told her to stop, told her to leave him sleep, to let Charlotte or whoever march in on them, to face the inevitable music… "And dance…", she whispered softly to herself, with a sorrowful smile. No dancing yet. Not yet.
Stirred by her touch, Joe opened his eyes drowsily. Seeing her looking back at him, he smiled.
"What time is it?" he enquired, his voice still croaky with sleep.
"Nearly seven, I'm afraid, my love"
"I'm sorry, I must have fallen asleep…just give me a second…" he rubbed his eyes, willing them to open and come into focus. She stood up, kissing his forehead as she did.
"It's fine, don't worry, I have to get dressed before I can leave." She padded across the bedroom, in her robe and slippers, towards the dressing room.
He smiled at that, turning in his seat to watch her begin her selection. It was a standing joke between the staff who attended the Queen that she was terrible at deciding what to wear, and it amused Joe no end. She opened the first huge wardrobe and then the next, then the next…standing back, a hand ruffling her hair in concentration. He stood up, and moved quietly across the room to stand next to her.
"Hmm…you're right, there's absolutely nothing in here that you'd look good in", he teased, shaking his head a little for emphasis.
"Oh stop it," she chided, "Today it's important. I'm going to have to meet the press after we land in Genovia, and I don't want something that's going to be creased after an 11 hour flight…"
"Why not just change? Throw on a pair of jeans now and switch to the Valentino somewhere roughly over Portugal." She chuckled at that one, playfully swiping at him.
"Look, you know as well as I do that the Queen doesn't wear jeans…and if you're not going to be helpful…" He held his hands up in mock surrender, and then casually throwing an arm around her shoulders, pulled her close and kissed her cheek. "You'll look wonderful in anything, my dear…but would you like a hand?"
She cast another overwhelmed glance at the three open closets, packed with enough clothes to fill a department store and sighed. "Would you?"
He smiled at her lovingly, and then looked back at the rails. After selecting a pale pink suit in record time, he turned back for her approval. She nodded. He loved this – God, he loved her – but he was touched by the trust she placed in him. On the occasions that he could stay in her suite, it had become their morning routine. Ever since he had told her she should wear less black. That had been the first night, for such a very long time, that they had been together, when she had properly let him back in. He smiled again, handing her the clothes, rousing himself from difficult memories.
They both dressed quickly. He had remembered to bring a change with him the night before, and was soon ready in his usual attire. Clarisse took, as per usual, a little longer. At seven-thirty sharp, she moved towards the door. Her hand on the doorknob, she pulled Joe close, and they shared an intense, yet delicate kiss. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, losing themselves momentarily in the intimacy. She curled against his chest, savouring the comfort, the sense of identity she carved out from them, and whispered,
"See you in the car, darling?" He stroked her hair and then, cradling her face in his palms, kissed her nose.
"Of course. See you later."
She smiled, her eyes twinkling.
"Now go to work…"
She laughed, pulling away, her hand returning to the door, feeling his on the small of her back.
As the door opened, Joe stepped back into the room. Clarisse stepped out, confident, her head held high. She greeted the guards outside her door with a courteous "Good morning", and they proceeded to escort her down to the breakfast room. Meanwhile, Joe gathered up his dress shirt and tux and, checking the coast was clear, left the suite and made for his own room. In a few seconds he was there, and, shutting the door behind him, smiled with relief. "Really…" he muttered to himself, "I'm getting far too old for this kind of lark."
The morning passed reasonably uneventfully. Clarisse took breakfast and then spent an hour or so organising some final paperwork, approving the staffing arrangements in San Francisco in her absence and the like. Lunch was, as frequently happened, forgotten in a pile of files. At three, she took tea. Just as she was finishing her second cup, Charlotte entered and announced that her cases were packed and loaded and the cars would be ready shortly.
"Thank you, Charlotte. Tell me, is Helen here yet?"
"Yes your Majesty, she is with Princess Amelia, in the reception room."
"How are they doing? Should I go down yet?" She knew this would be difficult, and part of her hated herself for what she was asking her granddaughter to do. But it was a decision that had to be taken. Helen would visit often, and Amelia would be able to come and stay frequently in the embassy here. She thought back to her own separation from her mother, prompted by her marriage to Rupert, and remembered the emotionally strained conversations.
"I wouldn't worry too much, your Majesty, Amelia is doing very well. She understands, you know." Charlotte glanced at her watch. "In any case, we should begin to think about moving anyway, it's nearly four."
"Indeed, thank you Charlotte, I will join you downstairs in a minute. And Charlotte…?"
"Yes, your Majesty?"
"Please arrange for Amelia to share my car. I know Joseph will object to me complicating his security strategy, but I've a feeling she might need a shoulder to cry on."
As she reached the foot of the stairs, Joe came in from the front door to announce the cars were ready. Their eyes met, and both smiled. She could have sworn he winked at her, and she blushed a little. Mia and Helen came in from the reception room, Helen's eyes clearly red from tears. Joe decided to step outside again for a moment, to wait for Clarisse in the car. This would be a difficult scene, a private moment, and he didn't really want to intrude.
Clarisse noted his departure, smiling to herself. He always knew the correct way to handle these things. She cleared her throat, and spoke, in a soft, but firm voice,
"Amelia, it is time for us to go, my dear." She moved across the room and to the door then, casting a glance back, but wanting to give them their moment.
"Goodbye Helen, I look forward to seeing you soon in Genovia."
Stepping outside, she made her way to the car. As Martin opened the door for her, she wasn't surprised to see Joseph already sitting by the window.
"Joseph?" She feigned surprise, her smile giving her away nonetheless.
"Your Majesty? Yes…um…I'm afraid it would appear I miscalculated on the number of drivers I engaged this morning. And a little bird tells me that Princess Mia will not be requiring her limousine…and so I'm rather out of a ride. I'm afraid, given the rather unconventional security risk of two royals in the same car, it would be advisable for me to ride with you."
She smiled, and, turning across to glance at Martin, who had by now installed himself behind the wheel, chided,
"Joseph, it is inappropriate for us to discuss such matters here, you know as well as I do that security arrangements must be kept entirely confidential, as much for the listener's safety, as the speaker's." Confident it was below her driver's line of vision, she slid her hand across the seat, until it came to rest on Joe's knee.
"If you will excuse us, Martin…" and with that, Clarisse nudged the button to close the privacy screen.
He brought his hand down to cover hers, and slipped an arm around her to pull her a little closer, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. She sighed, and then inhaled deeply.
"You used my shower gel again…you smell of bergamot…'
He smiled, feeling her relax against him. She spoke again,
"I'm sorry about Amelia, do you mind?"
He stroked his hand up and down her arm reassuringly,
"Of course not. I think you're right to worry…she's holding up well now, but she's a sensitive thing, this can't be easy for her."
She turned out of his embrace to face him, placing a hand either side of his face. Kissing him ever so lightly, she smiled, "Thank you"
They heard voices approaching, and Joe straightened himself up a little, and moved to sit in the spare seat, his back to the screen, facing the rear. Clarisse shuffled across to where Joe had been. As she entered the car, Mia seemed a little surprised to find Joe already there, but she smiled and settled back into the seat. No one said anything for a moment, as the car pulled away. Mia looked down at her hands, playing with her ring, only looking out of the window when they were travelling down the freeway. Clarisse and Joe exchanged worried looks. Mia this quiet was not a good sign. She was staring blankly out the window now, and from his position Joe could see that her eyes were filling with tears. He looked at Clarisse again, who, realising his meaning, shifted across a little and placed a hand on Mia's shoulder.
"Amelia, darling, it's alright to cry, you know"
To her surprise, and relief, Mia turned and practically threw herself into Clarisse's arms, and began to sob. As Clarisse wrapped her arms tightly around the girl, and murmured soothing words, she began to calm a little. Joe shuffled a little uncomfortably in his seat, wishing he could join in, knowing that it was inappropriate. That girl had become the granddaughter he'd never had, and he could hardly bear it watching her so upset.
Between muffled sobs, Mia began to speak.
"You know…grandma…it's…it's…it's really not so easy being a princess sometimes"
If it were possible, Clarisse pulled her even closer, stroking her back. Her own eyes closed for a moment, a single stray tear slivered down her own cheek as she opened them, and met Joseph's compassionate gaze.
"I know, my darling…", she tried to smile, to keep her voice steady, still looking at him, "…sometimes it's the hardest thing in the world."
By the time they arrived at the airfield, both royals had regained their composure, and Mia was even getting excited about the trip ahead. As Joe well knew, Clarisse was less enthusiastic. As much as she was longing to go home, she did not appreciate the experience of flying. Yes, she had grown more accustomed to it over the years, well, at least more accustomed to masking her fear, but it was obvious to him how on edge she was. Clasping and unclasping her hands in her lap, she fidgeted on the seat. He wondered if she had remembered to take something to calm her.
The plane was already loaded and waiting for clearance when they arrived. Mia practically skipped up the stairs, clearly thrilled at the prospect of a private jet. Clarisse had ensured there would be no press at the airstrip, and so the young princess was in her element, babbling away to the amused Charlotte. At the foot of the steps, Clarisse hesitated a moment, hardly noticeable to anyone, but he saw it. In an instant, he was close behind her. Carefully hidden by his body, he raised a hand to the small of her back, stroking her discreetly with his thumb. Leaning forward an inch, he whispered in her ear,
"It's going to be fine…I'm here."
She smiled, leaning back a little against his palm, and began to carefully mount the steps. He followed, maintaining the slight pressure until they reached the entrance to the plane. She entered first, while he stopped to talk to the pilot. There were few seats, maybe eight or ten, but they didn't sit together. As he walked past her to find his own place at the rear, she stopped him. He turned, hand stilled on her armrest.
"Joseph?"
"Yes, your Majesty?"
She bit back a smile, and asked in all seriousness, "I don't suppose if you know whether Charlotte has remembered to include my books in the cabin items, do you?"
"I don't know, your Majesty, I will go and enquire…"
"Thank you Joseph." She smiled again and, unseen by anyone on the plane, quickly ran her fingers over his hand.
After about five hours of flying, the captain dimmed the cabin lights, so they could all snatch a few hours sleep. They were scheduled to arrive in Genovia at seven in the evening, local time, and so this probably wasn't the best idea for jetlag, but everyone was tired. Well, nearly everyone.
After making sure that everyone was sound asleep, and suppressing a laugh at how Fat Louie had installed himself on Charlotte's lap and was covering her new suede skirt in fur whilst she slept on unaware, Joe quietly made his way down the cabin. He wandered into the cockpit, to check on progress, and satisfied, he went back into the cabin. She was asleep, curled up against a pillow, her feet tucked under her, her book lying open on the seat beside her. Her face was relaxed, a smile playing on her lips, clearly dreaming of something nice. He hoped it involved him. He noticed her shiver a little, and almost instantly, felt chilled himself. After a brief search, he found what he was looking for, and waked towards her. Sitting down in the space next to her, he carefully wrapped the blanket around her. She stirred a little, and seeing who it was, tried to wake herself.
"Joseph?"
He placed his finger on her lips to silence her. He moved closer and, caressing the nape of her neck, softly kissed her cheek. He whispered against her ear,
"Shhh…everyone is asleep…let's keep it that way." She nodded, her eyelids heavy from the mild sedative she'd taken earlier. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to lie against him. "We can't stay like this", she murmured against his chest, "I'll be asleep in a moment."
"It's ok, relax, I'll be awake. No one will stir for another hour or so…I just wanted to hold you for a while." She turned into his chest, and kissed him through his shirt. He groaned involuntarily, and stroked her hair. Thankfully, she was asleep in mere seconds…any more of that sweet torment and, by God, somehow or other he would have persuaded Genovia's favourite queen to join the Mile High Club. True to his word, when she awoke, he was gone, the blanket still wrapped around her the only trace of him having been there.