None of these characters belong to me, they belong to Meg Cabot and Disney. Hell, nothing mentioned belongs to me!
Harrow's a private boarding school, just out side London (just in case they where talking about harrow and you didn't know, I'm not insulting your intelligence though! Lol, 8-) ) oh yeah, Joe and Clarisse are like 29 or something, artistic licence with age!
" I phoned ahead, to Harrow. They know you're coming for the ceremony but the boys don't, they'll be glad", Joseph smiled as they stopped at her door. Their dinner had been wonderful - the first light conversation they'd shared in a week - spare about Rosa but that was in the past.
"they'll be glad to see you too", she smiled, reminding him of how much her children admired him.
"hmm, yes", he smiled, somewhat unsure of himself in this new predicament. He was standing outside her suite - which was linked to his, speaking to her as the woman he loved but he knew they were not ready for that - too much emotionally to overcome before considering that.
"good night, Joseph", she whispered, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. He was sure she'd read his mind and he didn't doubt she was feeling the same.
"good night Clarisse", he smiled, cupping her cheek, " it's better this way - slowly". She nodded in complete agreement, closing her eyes and taking in everything he said, how he felt as his hand caressed her cheek.
"I love you", she suddenly whispered, again taking matters in to her own hands, " I mean it, I love you". He smiled as she opened her eyes. Sparkling and wonderful and full of life as she looked at him.
"my beautiful Clarisse….", he managed, before it over powered him. Exhaustion suddenly sweeping over his body as he registered her heavenly words. She had said it, after all this time and this time when she said it, she wasn't scared, she wasn't forceful - she was pure and unrelenting.
"goodnight", he smiled, " goodnight, my beautiful Clarisse".
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Cruz rubbed his hand together against the breezy chill, and hugging his jacket around him blew hot air into his cupped hands. The men were late and he was getting impatient and jumpy. The cargo coming through on the small fishing boat was certainly something that could attract attention. The lights over head were dim and he really couldn't make anything out. Suddenly a voice, a voice he'd only heard once but would recognise anywhere startled him.
"you actually came", Asesinato chilled, leaning against a crate.
"y-y-yeah", Cruz stuttered, more from fear than the cold summer breeze.
"good, perhaps I underestimated you", Asesinato noted allowed, " there is no boat, this crate here has everything I need ".
He handed Cruz a crow bar and stepped away from the crate. His hands were stiff from the cold, but the crate was easy to open and after three wrenches, the lid lifted making a defining, hollow thud as it hit the dirty floor.
The cold, stale smell of metal hit him. The crate was an arsenal - but for only one piece of prey.
"surely you don't need all of this shit just to get to her, you're only taking her captive, right?", Cruz said, looking at Asesinato as if he were mad.
"you've never met her head of security. Have you?", he questioned, reaching inside the crate and taking out a shiny new hand gun. He did not like people questioning him, his respectability or his methods.
"n-n-no", Cruz stuttered, never taking his eyes off the gun that Asesinato seemed to be threatening him with indirectly.
"no", Asesinato smiled, running a leather clad finger up and down the barrel of the gun. Cruz was shaking and he could see that, he liked having that effect on people, " no that's right".
Cruz heard the gun ring through the air, the pain rumbled through his chest as his white shirt turned crimson. He fell to the cold, hard floor as his breath rattled in his throat.
Asesinato hovered above him, deciding whether he should shoot him or if he should leave him to die slowly as he surely would. He decided on the latter - it meant he would suffer more. Slowly he pulled the legs of his trousers up, so they wouldn't crease and bent down - running the cold metal of the gun along the barely living mans jaw-line.
"never doubt me, or my methods. I'm not a one man band. I have eyes and ears and murderers all over the world - trust me, I know how to deal with things and people - people like you", he stood up, and kicked Cruz in the side until he rolled over spurting blood out of his mouth viciously.
"you'll die in at least three hours", he smiled, putting the pocket watch back in his pocket, " R.I.P, I no longer need you".
Cruz watched his figure become blurry in the dark of the night - it was the lat thing the 23 year old ever saw.
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Captain Tony Vengrola looked at the young boys body in front of him - the gun in his hand, it had been a clear suicide. A shame it was, such a young life wasted in such a land of opportunities. He'd certainly shot himself in a place where it might take a good while for him to breath his last. Tragedy, a real tragedy, he thought as he zipped up the white bag.
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Harrow sat on top of Harrow hill and as Clarisse neared the fifteenth century building, she couldn't wait to see them. She looked down at her out-fit, utterly elegant. Utterly queenly. A silk green dress that clung enticingly to her curves, pearls, green shoes, and a green jacket. She looked like royalty always did, but Joseph couldn't help but notice how particularly beautiful she looked.
"you look lovely", he smiled as he helped her out of the car, " I don't know if I said".
"no", she smiled, " but thank you".
"you're welcome", he continued, his hand making small circles on her back as they noticed the man striding to them across the perfectly cut lawn. He was beefy and broad but seemed to exude energy of a tyrannical quality. His mortar bored sat at an odd angle on his moist brow, repulsing Clarisse a little more than usual and his robes flew behind him, almost as if they were trying to catch up.
"your Majesty", he breathed, smiling a little, " I am Master Pickering, Master of Harrow".
"hello", she smiled, offering her hand which he kissed dutifully, " this is my Head of Security, Joseph". Joseph offered his hand for a shake but Pickering simply ignored it, instead looking Joseph over with slight disdain.
"this way", Pickering continued, motioning to the massive oak doors at the other end of the lawn. As soon as his back was turned, Joseph turned to her, his eyes dancing with delightful anger as he raised an eye brow. In one swift move she reached over and grabbing his arm, kissed his cheek soothingly. He paused momentarily as she continued to follow, feeling with his hand the place she had brushed her lips.
"come along Joseph", she sniggered, a teasing tone acting on her sing - song voice as she smiled over her shoulder, " don't want to be late, might make us lesser people". He laughed at that and caught up, perhaps 'them' might just work.
"Pierre Renaldi!", Pickering bellowed, " first place, Polo Player of the year". Clarisse brimmed with pride as her son took the polo trophy from the Master. The youngest but tallest member of the team, he'd made quite an impression and as he brandished his trophy with manly pride, she turned to Joseph. The pride on his face made her heart swell, she wasn't aware that one man could care so much for so many people and little for himself.
"Philippe Renaldi, honorary Junior writer and Musician of the year!", he bellowed again. Clarisse frowned lovingly as her ten year old tripped and nearly fell as he mounted the steps to receive his trophy, grinning dopily. Joseph simply shook his head and raised an eye brow at Clarisse, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her little boys display.
Philippe didn't want to stay up there and that was clear. He vaulted off the stage as quickly as possible as the awards ceremony ended, followed behind by his brother as they bounded to meet their mother and Joseph.
"Mama! Joe!", they chorused, hugging one and then the other.
"hello my darlings!", Clarisse laughed, falling off balance as Philippe descended on her waist in a gripping hug again. Joseph caught her back and levelled her, she smiled appreciatively at him before returning her attention to her children.
"my! Look how you have grown!", she laughed, holding both of them at arms length, " god, I've missed you", she continued, pulling both of them into a hug.
"we wont come back next year", Pierre quickly suggested, positioning his mother awkwardly. It wasn't as if she didn't know her children detested living so far away from home, but what could she do?
"Pierre", Joseph warned darkly, Clarisse release the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Pierre hung his head slightly and mumbled an apology - it wasn't as if he didn't know thatit was his fathers doing that had sentthem here.
"it's ok darling", she smiled, lifting his chin up and placing a slight kiss on his forehead, " we'll discuss it later".
"Mama! Mama!", Philippe squealed, tugging on the side of her dress.
"Philippe?", she questioned, looking down on him with affection.
"ohhhh, what time do we go home?", he questioned, tugging on her hand and pulling her towards the doors of the grand hall. She followed, Joseph closely beside her in deep conversation with Pierre.
"ahh, not until tomorrow darling", she answered, " why?"
"are we staying in London over night?", Pierre chimed in, before Philippe could even answer. She gave her elder son a disapproving look for interrupting, but couldn't help but smile at his puppy dog eyes.
"yes, in London - we'll do whatever you want today", she smiled, stepping out into the warm English sun. Joseph smiled at how wonderful and glowing she looked as her sons almost skipped around them.
He scooped a squealing Philippe up and swung him onto his shoulders, near giving Clarisse a fit as she reached up to steady her swinging son. She gave Joseph an almost motherly frown as he smiled sheepishly.
"honestly, you two will hurt yourself one day", she warned, trying to keep the smile of her face.
"Mama! Don't think so", Philippe teased, waving his hands unceremoniously in the air. She couldn't help but feel more contented than she had in years. She had Joseph and at least it might just appear as if it was working. She had told him and now it was up to them. She had her sons, even if it was only for a short while. It was the nearest thing to a family she'd ever get and she intended to enjoy it.
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As they all fell into the lift of the Ritz, the bell boy gave them a bemused look. Clarisse couldn't ever recall doing so much fun things in the one day. Harrods, Hamleys, Imperial war Museum, a boat on the Thames, lunched at Mac Donald's - which she had to admit was not the most pleasurable experience, took in a musical and ate in a Chinese restaurant. She was utterly exhausted now and her feet were killing her. She smiled over at Joseph who was cradling a sleeping Philippe in his arms. His head resting on Joe's shoulder, his eyes screwed shut - she laughed a little, he looked utterly angelic.
"are you tired?", she questioned quietly to Pierre who was leaning on her,battling sleep. He nodded mutely, a yawn escaping his lips as he did so. The lift stopped and they slowly exited into their suite. Joseph lowered the sleeping philippe on to his bed and Clarisse carefully undressed him and slipped the covers over him. Pierre had long changed and curled up in the bed across from his brother, sleep taking over almost immediately.
Clarisse smiled as she stood in the doorway of their bedroom - god how she loved them. She smiled at Joseph as he came to stand next to her and as his hand encircled her waste - she didn't jump, she simply relaxed into him, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"they're cute", he whispered, contentment somehow coming over him.
"yes", she agreed quietly. She turned and pulling out of his embrace, came to stand in front of him in the doorway. Her lips burned on his as she kissed him softly. He knew that this time, it was both of them who wanted it and almost consciously, he demanded more of her kiss.
They didn't see Pierre as his eyes opened momentarilybecause he heard them in the doorway. They didn't realise the contentment on his face wasn't from childish dreams as they turned to take one last look. The contentment was there because he knew that somehow, they'd finally get to each other.
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Asesinato watched form the side of the run way with the small gathering ofpress as they descended the stairs. It was the first time in years he'd seen Joseph in person. He had practically never changed, still young and athletic looking, though his hair did look as if it where thinning a bit. She was pretty, in fact beautiful and he knew it was likely that Joseph and her were more than just good friends. After all Joseph could never resist a beautiful looking woman. Joseph's hand rested on her back as they made their way to the cars flanked by at least 5 security men. He smiled slyly to himself - he wondered if Joseph knew this was the last time he'd get to touch her, he hoped he didn't. in truth, he didn't really want to kill her but if it would hurt him, it was vital she suffered. Her children smiled at the flashing camera's, clearly trained in dealing with the press at such a young age. A pity really, that there innocence had been warped at such a young age - not to dwell on though.
He moved quietly through the small crowd, his shades shielding the face he knew might just be recognised by a certain someone. His men moved as he did, but separately. Fear was something he did not give pleasure to. Fear and love were for the weak and weak, he was not. He could feel the cold metal of the gun swinging loosely under his jacket and it made him tingle with a perverse pleasure. His men emerged, all with the same guns swinging loosely in the same holsters. He'd arranged it this way, so they could make a big entrance. His 15 men, highly trained in the art of deception and murder slowly, in the frenzy around them stuck knifes in the backs of the security men …………. that was when hell finally started to burn.
Joseph turned around as he heard a scream emulate from one of the crowd. His men dropped right left and centre blood pooling around them on the tarmac, his deputes' Martin and Franz were down as well, he was well and truly on his own. Men surrounded them and as a figure moved forward into the crowd, he realised, with extreme fear they were a threat to the three people he was meant to protect. Philippe gripped him tightly and as the figure advanced forward, Clarisse turned to him - fear pooling in her eyes. The reporters tried to push past to get to a phone, to some help but if anyone moved they shot and their aim, it was deadly.
"Joseph", Clarisse whispered, almost distantly, " Joseph, what's happening?"
"I don't know", Joseph mumbled, reaching inside his Jacket but the figure, now standing fully in front of them spoke.
"do not reach for the ak87 in your holster, it is of no use to you", he said coldly, mechanically.
"what?", Joseph mustered, holding Clarisse a little tighter and grabbing Pierre so he was nearer. He was facing his worst nightmare, facing something he'd trained to do but not on his own and certainly not with three people to protect.
" I said do not reach for the gun", the character cooed, coming nearer. No one did anything, the men standing on the tarmac were willing to shoot and the crowd had all but learned that.
He cradled the gun in his gloved hand and as he reached them, took the sick initiative to point it at Philippe's head. The little boy did not move, but the tears escaped down his face.
"do not hurt my child!", Clarisse almost screamed, " what do you want?". Her imploring nearly killed Joseph and as he reached for his gun the man again stopped him with aiming it at Pierre. Joseph swallowed, he didn't care if they shot him but if they shot the boys …… or Clarisse, it did not bare thinking about.
"it would be foolish to try to shoot me", he smiled, " it is not pleasant to see a child's' brain blown out, is it now?". Joseph cringed at that and he felt Clarisse wince.
"tell us what you want!", Joseph shouted, shaking with anger and helplessness. Clarisse knew he could do nothing and the frustration was almost pushing him over the edge.
"I want the queen", he said, this time pushing the gun against Philippe's head, " I really don't know which one to shoot - or should it be both?". The small scream which escaped Clarisse's lips pasted a smile on the mans face and Joseph felt a strange sense of recognition of that smile.
"let go of me", she suddenly whispered, turning to Joseph. His eyes widened abruptly and his face was a hard-answered no.
"let me go", she begged quietly, trying to gently shake his grip of her. Asesinato watched in amusement, no Joseph and her were not just friends - that made it all the more fun.Joseph's eyes filled up with love and as if she knew how he felt, she answered his eyes with a soft smile.
"Clarisse!", Joseph tried, but it was no use and for some strange reason he felt as if he had no choice but to let her go. He released her helplessly, feeling as if he was signing away her life - something he never wished he had to do. She smiled suddenly, as if she was trying to reassure him she didn't blame him but how could she not - he was to blame, he'd failed her.
"no Mama!", Pierre shouted, tears streaming down his face. Asesinato grabbed her arm before she could change her mind. It had been interesting putting her in that position, seeing how both of them would react.
"Joseph!", she implored, reaching and gripping the side of his face as Asesinato brought the cold metal of the gun into contact with her head, " Joseph don't let them hurt my children!".
"Please!", Joseph suddenly begged, " don't do this, shoot me, hurt me but not her, not the children!". Asesinato smiled as he kept her walking back wards with her as he pointed the gun at them. He liked seeing Joseph like this, it was simply amusing. the cars behind him reved up as the men he had brought jumped into the cars. Asesinato paused just before the end car and turned to Joseph, a smile curling at his lips.
"it will be more fun this way, more chilling. This is the last time you will see her - she will never know the extent of your love".
Hello, I know that was long but I'm trying to write longer chapters - hope you enjoyed it and please R&R.
Yours,
M