A/N Well, I don't think the film dealt with the whole rejected proposal thing very well. The plot presented there simply wouldn't have happened, at least not in my opinion. So here's a little shot at why Joe might have run... though, and I'm sorry for this, this is only the first half. I will try and update some more tonight.

(this is back into the present – i.e., a week or so before the wedding in PD2)

As Clarisse stirred, she wasn't surprised to find Joseph already dressing and preparing to leave. In spite of her wonderful night's sleep, she was still feeling drained and, whilst he had to be back on duty by seven, she could enjoy another half hour in bed. Sitting up a little, moving a few pillows, she watched him trying to find his belt in vain.

"Try the sofa in the sitting room, darling…"

He started a little at her voice and then smiling broadly, looked over towards the bed.

"Ah, sleeping beauty doth awake…"

She laughed at his attempt at an English accent, and fell back onto the soft pillows,

"No, she doth not…she doth wish to sleep for at least another week."

He chuckled too and, abandoning the belt-search for a moment, wandered over to where she was lying, clearly pretending to sleep. Kneeling carefully, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, and eased back to judge its effect. Her lips were curled into a smile, though her eyes were still shut…

"Is that the best you can do, Charming?"

He laughed and then, composing himself a little, kissed her tenderly on the lips, gently easing his mouth onto hers. As her hand came to wrap around his neck he swept an arm under her shoulders and lifted her gently to sit up. Breaking after reluctantly, he smiled again,

"There. Now you simply must get up."

OoOoOoOoOoO

Almost a week had passed from his proposal, and it was wedding day minus two. The week had gone as well as could reasonably have been expected. Joseph, to his credit, had refrained from mentioning his proposal and Clarisse had appreciated his understanding. The night before the parade, after the garden party and Mia's little tantrum, he had gone to join her in her suite. As he stepped in, he had overheard her talking to Maurice,

"…or are you angry with me too?"

As the cheeky little beast left her standing, he had entered the room and reassured her that at least he was not angry with her. She had smiled, accepting his embrace warmly and, for the moment, at least, had calmed.

The parade had gone well, in spite of Clarisse's fears. Mia had been wonderful, as he had predicted and, for a few hours that evening the Queen had managed a wander around the gardens. Of course, he had accompanied her, his hand slipping into hers as soon as he could be sure they were beyond the sight of the cameras, but they had not spoken of his suggestion of the previous week. He couldn't pretend that he wasn't a little hurt by it, but he thought he understood. As they walked casually through the beautiful trees by the lake, his fingers coming to rest on the back of her neck, stroking down to her shoulders, he had reassured her that everything was going to plan.

"Of course, Joseph, I know you are right…it's just…"

He smiled, and gallantly raising her hand to his lips, kissed her tenderly.

"I know…it's just everything."

She laughed at his perception, his wonderful way with words, and then grew quiet as she pondered his ability to read her.

"You really are rather clever you know, my love."

He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows to make her laugh,

"No, I'm serious…I'm going to have to learn to watch you, you can read me like a book."

Again he smiled, trying to diffuse the seriousness lying perilously close behind her words,

"But you are a singularly interesting book, my dear."

OoOoOoOoOoO

And so the week had progressed. The morning after the parade, Clarisse found herself waking more tired than even. Two days to the wedding and she was beginning to wonder if she might not collapse of exhaustion first. Again, she had slept, but her dreams had been filled with the wedding, the arrangements, the guests, the flowers…everything. Finally, at around three, Joseph had left her suite to take his turn on the early shift and, since then, she had not really managed to relax completely.

At seven thirty she gave up and took a quick shower. After dressing, she ordered some tea and then wandered down to her office. At eight thirty Charlotte arrived, with florists and caterers in tow. One by one, Clarisse met them all, making last minute changes, altering quantities and the like. At eleven Charlotte came back with more tea and they began on the seating plans. Two hours later, Clarisse sent her assistant off to find herself some lunch whilst she finished off the order of ceremony and the hymns to be sung in the church. Part of her had rather wished Amelia would want to be involved in this, it was, after all, her wedding, but then again, it was no small task for such a young girl. And so sighing rather louder than she would normally have allowed herself, Clarisse set about the music, hoping Mia wouldn't mind too much if she just picked her favourites.

At two, the phone rang and a call from Amelia was put through to her office. As she picked up, Joseph, who had enquired politely in the kitchens whether the Queen had managed to remember lunch, was on his way to direct her, by force, if necessary, to the nearest plate of biscuits at least. Arriving at the slightly ajar door just as she answered, he decided to give her a moment before entering.

"Hello darling, how is it all going – does it still look perfect?"

Mia giggled and began to babble enthusiastically down the line,

"Oh yes, Grandma, it's wonderful…though perhaps a little tight after those burgers last night…something tells me that I might be having salad this evening!"

Clarisse chuckled, struggling to remember the last time she had seen Amelia eat something so healthy as a salad…

"So, Grandma, did you speak to Pierre yet, is he coming?"

Clarisse swallowed and admitted that she hadn't, not yet.

"Oh come on, I'm sure he'll want to be there…it would be great to finally meet him. I know that you guys argued in the past, but surely he'd want to at least get an invite?"

She hesitated, remembering the bitter words they had exchanged before she had left for San Francisco, his criticism of her, how had he put it?…dragging a poor innocent girl into their mess…but she was right, it was time.

"I think you are right, my dear, perhaps now is the right time after all. As much as I have avoided the issue over the last few weeks in particular, perhaps it is the time to find some resolution."

Outside the room, Joe couldn't help but hear her words, their meaning not lost on him.

"You make it sound like a funeral, Grandma, won't he be pleased to come to the party at least?"

She smiled, lifted by her granddaughter's enthusiasm,

"Yes, darling, I suppose he will be rather, um, pleased…"

"And you?"

She hesitated, the emotions she was feeling threatening to spill out more than she would have liked,

"Me…You know, Mia, I can hardly bear it not seeing him, it's crazy, but I never have been very good at it, all these years. Yes, I shall be happier than words can express…"

Joe's heart seemed to miss a beat, and he could hardly contain his elation. It took every ounce of restraint not to throw open the doors and sweep her into his arms there and then.

"Oh Grandma, you're such a big softie…"

Clarisse smiled, amused at the expression,

"Yes, sweetheart, I suppose I am…but that kind of love stays with you whatever…whatever you might say to each other."

Turning away from the door, Joe glanced at his watch. Ten past two. If he sprinted back to his room, grabbed the ring and then 'hastened' back to the office, he would have time to surprise her before Charlotte got back. In a flash, he was gone.

OoOoOoOoO

Ten minutes later, though, he was still pacing in his room. He wanted so much for this to be perfect, and now, now the time was here, once again, he couldn't begin to think of the words to say what he so wanted her to hear. Slipping the small box into his jacket pocket, he sighed with frustration. He should've just gone in there and then, surprised her with a kiss or something. Charlotte would be back with her now, there was no doubt of that, and he didn't want to cause a scene. No, he would be patient. Just for a few hours more.

In spite of his frustration, though, he couldn't help but smile broadly. She had said it…hell, she'd even admitted it to Mia. He didn't quite understand the significance of today, but who was he to complain if today was somehow better than yesterday and tomorrow. Pulling the small box out of his pocket, he couldn't help but take another peek, half to reassure himself that it were still there, half in sheer delight at what it would soon symbolise. It was a small and delicate diamond, exquisitely cut…and it would sparkle on her finger beautifully. He already knew that she would love it.