The moment she woke early the next morning Clarisse could smell his aftershave lingering in the air. Opening her eyes slowly, she was confused to find herself, alone, in her own bed. Her mouth felt fuzzy, the dull taste of whisky bitter in the morning light. Little by little the events of the previous day trickled back, the long-winded arrangements, his request, her refusal…him leaving her there, the music still playing in the background. She remembered drinking, drinking too much, not drinking enough. She must have fallen asleep in the parlour. He must have brought her to bed. She closed her eyes, sighing deeply, the relief palpable. He was back.

OoOoOoOoO

Joe woke from a less comfortable slumber, still propped over the kitchen table. Unlike Clarisse, he was in possession of a truly epic headache and for a moment he considered lying there forever. The sound of footsteps in the hallway prompted him away from uncomfortable makeshift bed though, and slowly, painfully slowly, he staggered back to his rooms. Still unable to think entirely clearly, he felt the weight of the previous day's revelations on his whole body. He was exhausted, he wanted to sleep forever.

It had been just after six when he had woken and by twenty past six he was in his own bed and fast asleep again. He hoped the alka seltzers would have begun to take some effect before he woke. Either that or that he didn't wake up at all.

OoOoOoOoO

Deciding that little could be achieved if she simply lay around in bed licking her wounds, Clarisse got up and dressed. Two days to the wedding, counting today…tomorrow. Tomorrow her granddaughter would be getting married. Clarisse wondered how well Mia was really coping with all this.

Wandering over to where Maurice was lying drowsily on his beanbag, she ran a hand through his messy fringe,

"What do you think, furry-boy, shall we go and pay her a visit?"

As the poodle whimpered a little and snuggled back into his bed, she shook her head. Lazy animal.

Not deterred, she decided to go and find Mia.

OoOoOoOoO

Just after ten, Joe woke up with a groan. Rubbing his eyes, he was vaguely consoled by the fact that the room was no longer spinning and, fingers crossed, it would seem that the headache was beginning to lift. As he lay, staring at the ceiling, he found himself running over, once again, her words. Had she really meant to turn him down? It didn't make sense…

God she would be feeling rough this morning… How sweet she had looked as he had carried her back to her room. So entirely peaceful. He found himself idly wondering if he would ever feel that content.

Yesterday, the anger and shame still coursing through his veins, he had nearly persuaded himself to leave. To leave for good. It had only been the emotion speaking though, of course. He knew he could never leave, not really. In spite of what his heart might convince him otherwise, his duty was to the protection of the Crown, Mia as well as Clarisse. And there was no one better than he to look after them.

OoOoOoOoO

As she left Mia, still sobbing, in her room, Clarisse made her way to find Charlotte. As she had anticipated, her assistant was already at work in the office. This latest incident could be catastrophic…for everything. And yet, for a moment at least, she was almost proud of Mia. For daring where she had not.

Sitting down in her chair with a sigh, she decided to deal with the present issue though, what to do about salvaging a wedding….

"Charlotte…Tell me, how did this happen?"

Looking up from the papers which had been hastily spread across the table, Charlotte shrugged her shoulders,

"To be entirely honest, your Majesty, I don't know…security really should have spotted her leaving at the very least."

Clarisse raised an eyebrow. That aspect she had not considered.

"I've been trying to find Joe, your Majesty, in the hope that he might be able to shed some light on it, but apparently he is, um, ill in bed."

"Ill?"

Instantly her face filled with concern, a concern that Charlotte recognised only too well.

"Well, I think so…Shades told me that he hasn't reported for duty this morning."

Again, Clarisse attempted to distract herself with a vase of flowers placed on the corner of her desk, desperate not to seem too worried,

"But he did come back last night?"

"Yes."

For a moment there was a tense silence, and then their eyes met. Charlotte blinked nervously, and then took a deep breath,

"Would you like me to go and talk to him, your Majesty?"

There was a momentary flash of recognition in Clarisse's eyes, and then it faded into propriety, a small smile curling her lips,

"Thank you Charlotte, I should feel much better if you made sure he was alright."

OoOoOoOoO

The soft knock on his door broke Joe from his thoughts. For a moment he hesitated, wondering to whom the hand might belong, but then sighed loudly and bid them enter.

To his surprise, it was Charlotte…

"Joe?"

"Hello Charlotte"

His voice was gravely and strangely despondent.

"Are you going to tell me what happened? The Queen is looking as much of a wreck as you are…"

He smiled ruefully and shook his head. He'd never doubted Charlotte's skills of perception, but he'd hardly expected her just to say it, not just like that. She'd make a good politician.

"I'm not sure what good it would do…I don't even understand it myself."

He was still lying flat out on the bed and she sat down on the edge, gently prising his hands away from his eyes.

"Talk to me Joe…at least tell me your side of it. Maybe we can work it out somehow?"

Afterwards, he could hardly believe that he'd broken so easily, that it had all come out so quickly. Perhaps the years of not speaking, of not sharing had finally taken their toll. And when he spoke now it all flooded out. To her credit, Charlotte just let him talk.

Nearly an hour had passed by the time he had finished. They had arrived back at the previous day's events, the phone call, the rejection…the whisky, and suddenly the words had dried up. Sitting now, Joe felt his head falling into his hands again. Reaching to hug him, a little awkwardly given their position, Charlotte allowed herself a small smile. How could these two highly intelligent people be so naïve?

"I just don't understand, Charlotte…I…"

She paused, wondering how to phrase it, and he looked up at her.

"You need to talk to her Joe, tell her everything. You seem so nearly there…she clearly loves you. I mean, are you sure she was talking about you? You can't give up now. Once the events of last night have blown over, I'm sure it'll be alright."

He smiled weakly and nodded.

"Perhaps you are right. I suppose it doesn't hurt to try…"

OoOoOoOoO

Passing by the security room, on his way to her office, Joe was surprised to hear Clarisse's distinctive voice. She was talking to Shades. Pausing by the door, unsure whether under the present circumstances he should enter, he decided to wait,

"And so you see, Shades, it simply isn't on. I understand that this isn't your responsibility, but I think some action should be taken."

"I understand, your Majesty, and I'm afraid that I agree. This kind of security breach is unforgivable, regardless of the person involved. That kind of lack of attention and professional incompetence is unacceptable."

"I believe that he might have been drinking. I do not wish to embarrass him personally…I know that he has some kind of attachment to me…but this behaviour cannot continue. He must go."

"Yes, your Majesty. I can't pretend that it won't be awkward, but…"

Joe could take no more…and storming down the corridor, he collided with Charlotte.

"Joe? What the hell?"

His eyes were red and his voice filled with an anger she had never heard from him,

"Tell her I quit"

OoOoOoOoO

As soon as she was sure he had gone into the garden, Charlotte moved in the direction from where he had come. She had no doubt that, if Joe was in this state, the Queen would be faring little better. To her surprise, however, she found her in the security room, conversing in reasonably amicable tones,

"And so you see, Shades, although I realise that Lionel is the son of a member of my parliament, but I cannot allow his inabilities as a security guard endanger my granddaughter, or indeed myself, any longer. Of course, you will have to arrange matters with Joseph first, but I think it should be you to explain the situation. He idolises Joseph far too much…"

Shades smiled and nodded politely.

"Yes, your Majesty, of course."

She turned then and, to her surprise, was confronted by an extremely flustered looking Charlotte.

"Good lord, Charlotte, one would think you'd seen a ghost, whatever is the matter?"

"It's Joe, your Majesty, he told me that he is resigning…"

For a second, the air seemed to grow cold around her, and the oxygen in her lungs seemed to vanish. In a single moment her greatest fear was pulled dangerously close.

"He…he can't"

Grasping Charlotte's arm as if to steady herself, Clarisse abandoned all pretence of hiding her emotions,

"Why, Charlotte? What did he say?"

As she felt Clarisse's grip tighten on her arm, Charlotte began to piece together the morning's events, his intense anger in spite of their long discussion.

"Your Majesty, did you speak to him this morning? He was coming to see you…"

Shaking her head lightly, Clarisse looked desperately confused, not at all the controlled Queen. Shades withdrew into the main office, not wanting to intrude any further. Relaxing a little, Charlotte continued,

"I think he might have overheard your conversation with Shades…might have misheard you. He has a tendency to do that."

Still puzzled, Clarisse decided not to ask for explanation, and instead concentrated on the implications of the first revelation. What if he had heard? Oh God…what must he think? She had asked him to leave.

"Charlotte, where is he now?"