A/N No characters belong to me, all to Walt, Meg & Garry. Hope you enjoy the second installation.
Things had changed in the few hours since Amelia's visit to the Consulate. It had not gone very well, as Joseph noted to his sovereign. He now found himself assigned as the child's chauffeur and babysitter.
He stood in the doorway of the Consulate's garage, watching one of the mechanics put a final coat of wax on the second limousine that had been delivered that afternoon. The man finished, wiped his hand on a rag and came to stand by Joseph, admiring his work.
"Looks pretty good now, better than how it was delivered."
Joseph didn't remove his sunglasses, but simply nodded his approval at the man's work "It's fine. I'll need it brought around by 7:30 tomorrow morning."
"Her Majesty's getting an early start," the man observed.
"It's not for the Queen. She'll continue to use the Embassy limo. Good afternoon."
Joseph left the man wondering why a second limousine was needed, and whom it was for. The wealthy, he judged, just didn't know what to do with all their money.
Joseph knocked on her office door.
"Come in."
He raised his eyebrows at her tone of voice, realizing that she was still rather upset. He'd gone too far this afternoon in the garden after Amelia had left, but he was too stubborn to apologize. That was why he'd been hiding out in the garage most of the afternoon.
"Everything is in place for tomorrow morning, Ma'am." He'd try the formal route for now, until she softened up a bit.
"Good." She had barely looked at him. "Joseph, I want Amelia protected at all times. She is royalty whether she likes it or not and she can't just be running around San Francisco pretending to be normal." She stood from her desk and began pacing.
"Yes, Ma'am. Understood." This was not Joseph's usual approach to the queen. He never, in all his years of service, simply acted as a servant. He never let one of her decisions, especially about security, go unchallenged. Clarisse turned to face him, surprised at his demeanour.
"You're being rather agreeable despite your earlier protests."
"Yes, Ma'am. Will that be all, Your Majesty?"
She stared at him, placing her hands on her hips. "You are not acting like yourself."
"I'm sorry, Ma'am. If you need anything further, I shall be happy to…"
"Joseph." Her tone was softer now. "What happened earlier… it was … unfortunate."
"I assume you are speaking about our discussion", he used the word lightly, "in the garden, and not what happened at tea?"
"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about." She didn't know what else to say. A queen never apologized, although she knew this time she was wrong. How had the day gone from romantic to frosty that quickly? If only that incident in the garden hadn't happened.
flashback to earlier that afternoon>
"Amelia! Amelia! Come back here! Ohh!
Clarisse watched as her granddaughter ran as fast as her legs would carry her out of the consulate. Joseph came down to meet Clarisse at the bottom of the stairs. He was shaking his head.
"Well, that went well didn't it?" Clarisse was annoyed, to say the least.
Joseph could only shake his head. "Perhaps she needs more time."
"Will you help me? She's so upset about this, more than I could have imagined. Joseph, you must look after her for me, drive her to school, keep an eye on her for heaven's sake, she can't just roam around the city, not now that she knows who she is! It won't be very long before the press finds out about this."
"I'm the head of your security and you want me to be a chauffeur and a babysitter?"
"For the time being. The child needs protection." She didn't like the look on his face.
"I am here, if you'll recall, to organize the security measures for this trip and to arrange for your personal security. Yours, Madam, as Queen of Genovia. It is not my responsibility to baby sit a 15 year old girl!"
She drew in a breath, practically disbelieving his refusal. "Are you saying you will not comply with my wishes?"
"I am saying that what you ask of me is unreasonable, and if you'd take a moment to think clearly you'd see that."
"How dare you question me like that! My granddaughter needs security, and you will provide it, is that clear?"
Both of them had tempers and a stubborn streak, but in all their years together they had never disagreed quite so forcefully with one another. Never once had she pulled rank on him, but something was different today and it had just spilled out.
"You are making a mistake, Your Majesty. I am advising you that this does not fit within our security measures for your safety."
"That's quite enough, Joseph. Protect my granddaughter, or you can go back to Genovia on the next flight."
"Are you relieving me of duty? Because if you are, you won't get the satisfaction."
She was clearly as riled as he was now. "Clearly what I ask is beneath you, so perhaps you'd be happy in the employ of someone else. Maybe you should leave." She turned away from him, noticing that the servants and Charlotte had moved off.
"I take my work very seriously. The protection of the crown is my life's work. But now the crown wants me to go chase after a teenager instead. Clearly, you've forgotten why I'm here, Your Majesty." His tone changed, from displeasure to a disdainful whisper. "It seems that after one kiss I'm supposed to be at your beck and call!" Hardly were the words out of his mouth before he wished them back. But it was too late, and the look of shock on her face confirmed it.
She was speechless. She knew the conversation had been escalating to a dangerous level, but she never dreamed he'd make it personal. Amelia was foremost on her mind, but she hadn't forgotten the passion she and Joseph had shared earlier that afternoon. In the back of her mind she had been daydreaming about kissing him, and kissing him again. Now, it seems all possibility of that was extinguished.
"I have not forgotten why you are here, Joseph, and neither have you. Convincing Mia to take on the job of Queen is our priority here. Philippe always looked up to you, trusted your counsel. You were the first to know that Amelia even existed, for heaven's sake! You know that he'd want you to be part of her life while she makes this decision, surely."
She stopped to catch her breath, not daring to look him in the eye. He sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. He knew she was right, he'd just felt so insecure after their romantic interlude earlier. "If this is what you want, Your Majesty, I will see to the princess' safety for the duration of our stay." He turned and hastily climbed the stairs. Clarisse watched him go, fighting the tears that were threatening to fall.
"Madam," he continued "I apologize for my disrespect earlier. Please forgive me."
"No."
He blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
She stammered, "I mean, there's nothing to forgive. You had every right to say what you did. I had no right to expect you to abandon your role as Head of Security just because you and I, well, because we," she faltered. How could she even try to put into words what their relationship was?
"I should never have insinuated that you were taking advantage of my feelings for you, Clarisse."
"I've hardly been able to think straight since we kissed today. I was thinking you might be regretting what happened between us."
He stood, rooted to the spot. "I have wondered the same thing about you."
They stood in her office, separated by more than physical distance. The kiss had changed so much so quickly, and neither really knew how to deal with it. The question of regret hung heavily in the air between them, as they looked at everything in the room but each other.
After several moments of silence, Clarisse moved back to her desk and checked her daybook. She sighed as she realized that her calendar was full for the evening. For a trip that was supposed to focus on her granddaughter, a lot of diplomatic events seemed to have found their way onto her schedule. Tonight was dinner with the Japanese Ambassador, followed by a reception for the best and brightest Japanese nationals living in the state of California. It would be an evening Clarisse would usually enjoy, but tonight she would rather not have to go out and act like her heart was not breaking.
"What time is your dinner, Ma'am?" Joseph knew the exact timing of each item on her schedule for the duration of her stay in America, but the silence was killing him.
"Um, the dinner, is, ah, I should arrive at 7:30." She checked her watch. "That doesn't leave me much time to prepare." She looked up at him, desperately wanting to say something that would clear up the melancholy air between them, but nothing came to her.
"I'll make sure the car is ready. Excuse me, Your Majesty." He turned and walked the few short steps to the door. She was by his side before he had realized it, her hand clutching his arm. He turned, startled, confused by her sudden action.
"We have to stop doing this to each other," she pleaded.
"The only way I could stop what you do to me is to go as far away as possible from you and never come back." He dropped his head, and stared at the rug.
"Is that what you want?"
"Damn it, Clarisse! Earlier today we were laughing, and kissing and so at ease with each other. I don't know what the hell happened to us." He wiped his face with his hand and stepped back from her.
"I know what happened. I let my feelings get in the way of duty, and that scared me. I'll never have the chance to love you the way that I want, the way you must know I do. What happened in the garden was a result of my realizing that we can never be, Joseph. I am Queen, whether I'm in my country or not. I'm so sorry. So very sorry." She turned and began walking back to her desk, to her duty, when Joseph caught her arm.
"You are the Queen. You always will be, and your people love you. But I love you also. And you owe it to yourself to explore the feelings inside you, to know love once in your life."
She shook her head, disentangled herself from his grasp. "That will be all, Joseph. Thank you."
If one could hear a heart break, then the sound of Joseph's heart breaking was louder than church bells tolling the loss of a king. "Your Majesty." He swiftly moved out the door, closing it a bit too loudly, for Clarisse winced as she dropped, head in hands, to the chair in front of her desk. "I'm sorry, Joseph, my love," she whispered.