Disclaimer: Own none of the Princess Diaries characters & make no money from these stories, simply having some fun.


Fallen - part 14

After spending a good twenty minutes fighting with the hose Joseph finally managed to fix up the sprinkler system and situated it in the centre of the lawn, as he was walking away feeling rather satisfied with himself the damned thing swung over and drenched his back.

Clarisse was giggling when he returned to the kitchen complaining with a wet shirt hanging over his arm.

"Ah, I thought you were still upstairs." He admitted ruefully.

"Don't worry I've see a man's torso before. And I won't tell anybody about the sprinkler system having it in for you."

"In for me?" he queried.

"Never mind, I should leave that shirt outside to dry for a while."

"Yes, I suppose so."

He watched as she washed the lobster, gradually getting closer to her. She had obviously done this before, yet perhaps not in a while as her nails were still manicured to perfection. She turned to reach for a towel and almost walked straight into him.

"Sorry." They said in unison.

"I just need to dry my hands." She reached past him to a drawer and pulled out a towel.

"Can I help?"

"Nothing to help with really, won't take long to cook when you're hungry. I see you ate the soup."

"It was fine. You have this often?"

"Oh not really, except when I was young, father used to insist we knew how to clean and cook them. I assure you I can cook perfectly well most of the time."

"I wouldn't assume anything different."

"Marriage to a Frenchman teaches you a few things." She said the words then instantly regretted them, Joseph probably didn't want to hear such things and she really didn't want to remind herself of Stephen right now.

Yet he smiled at her words. "Isabella insisted on baking a birthday cake for the boys every birthday, despite the fact we had a team of caterers available and she wasn't all that good at it."

"But it's a lovely gesture."

"Yes."

For a few seconds they stood staring at each other in silence. Then Clarisse registered the unease of the moment and stuttered to find something to say.

"Well, erm, when you're hungry let me know and we can eat."

"Whenever you are I don't wish to cause you any problems…." He shook his head. "Any more problems."

"Well I'm trying not to dwell on the craziness of the situation and instead just go with it."

"As always resourceful."

"Yes, I guess so."

"Erm, Clarisse may I impose further and perhaps use your shower."

"Oh but of course. I'm sorry I should have said."

"It's fine."

It was the first time she'd actually dwelt on the fact that Joseph was standing topless in her kitchen, and my did he look good. A little too thin perhaps but his skin was wonderfully bronzed and his muscles were well defined, she wouldn't doubt a man half his age would be proud of a body like his.

"I'll erm, get you a towel and show you where everything is."

He nodded and followed her upstairs.

"You can use the bathroom in my room seeing as you're staying in there."

"Really Clarisse I feel terrible about stealing your bedroom, allow me to move into one of the spare rooms."

"Weren't you comfortable?" She asked as she reached up into the high cupboard and took down two large bath towels.

"Exceptionally comfortable… I told you it was the best nights sleep I've had in months."

"Oh?"

"Yes, everything smelt of you." He blurted the words out unthinking but once he'd said them he had no wish to take them back. Sensing her unease he took the towels from her hands. "I'll move into the spare room."

She didn't respond, only nodded and watched as he headed for the bathroom.


Refreshed and feeling better than he had in weeks Joseph made his way down stairs. The heat was beginning to lessen and Clarisse had turned fans on throughout the house to cool it down.

"Now can I help?" He said as he entered the kitchen.

"No, everything's ready."

"Really, not even wine to pour?"

She held up her glass smiling. "I already started. Go sit down."

"Here?"

"No, I thought we'd eat in the dining room, you can take the salad through." She said handing him a large bowl.

"Well, glad to be of assistance." He replied with a flourish.

They ate in virtual silence, Clarisse thought ahead and put the radio on in the background to fill the space. It helped as neither seemed capable of finding a topic they could safely discuss. Joseph had questions, Clarisse wanted answers, and neither was able to locate a voice for their emotions.

"Dinner was lovely." Joseph finally said laying his fork down.

Clarisse dipped her head in a mock bow. "Thank you. Not always so incapable you see."

"I never doubted it."

She sighed and swirled the wine in her glass staring down at it.

"Would you like some more wine?" He asked, his hands folded beneath his chin, elbows resting on the table.

"I think you'll find we've emptied that bottle."

"Ah."

"And to drink more might be a mistake."

"How so?"

"I'm not sure getting drunk together is a good idea," she glanced at the clock. "You've been here over twenty-four hours."

"Yes, with little explanation to my motives right. You're weighing up just what I'm here for?"

"Partly, I'm not at all sure what you thought visiting me here could achieve."

He couldn't deny the rawness of her words hurt and she witnessed him visibly flinch.

"I'm not sure I had a plan. I needed to see you."

"You said that, what I don't understand is why – why now, why not let it rest?"

His head dropped forward and he closed his eyes momentarily searching for the right words to answer her.

She took the sign as negative and stood up abruptly and reached for his now empty plate.

"I'll make some coffee and we can go sit in the lounge, perhaps then you'll have an answer."

"Let me at least do the dishes."

"Do you get on any better with dishwashers than you do with sprinkler systems?"

"Very funny Madam."

His eyes met hers and it was the first time he had witnessed them sparkle since he got there, perhaps there was hope after all.

"Come, you can make the coffee."

He remained seated at the table for a few minutes after she'd gone, still mulling over the look he'd seen in her face just a moment ago. Could he dare to hope that somehow things might still work, that they still had a chance?

"I thought you were making the coffee." She called from the kitchen.

He smiled and quickly got up.

"You have a lovely home."

"Nothing compared to yours." She quipped continuing to fill the dishwasher.

He didn't respond to the jibe and instead moved to the coffee pot.

"I'm assuming you've done all this decoration."

"Yes, it was just superficial though. Exterior things."

"Still, it's only July, you must have worked hard."

"Almost August, and I had help."

"Your sister?"

"Yes, and her husband."

"Martin?"

"Your memory never fails to amaze me." She reached over his head to a cupboard. "I have mints to go with the coffee."

He smiled. "Tell me about your sister."

"Rose, goodness where to begin. She's older and wiser than me, a loving wife, a Grandmother… lucky."

"How so?"

"Because she found that her second boyfriend was the love of her life and she's been with him ever since, perfectly happy, wonderfully happy. She claims to be jealous of what she terms my 'wild travelling lifestyle' yet it's I who is jealous of her… well, the stability she has. That love and family to fall back on."

"Don't you have that same family to fall back on?"

"Well yes, but it's not the same. Not the same as having my own grandchildren." She shrugged. "But then after spending the day with them all I'm totally exhausted and more than ready to go home alone so it works both ways I guess."

She noticed he was leaning back on the counter staring at her.

"Is that coffee ready?"

He mentally shook himself; she was obviously uncomfortable with him paying her so much attention. "Oh, erm yes I think so."

"Good, pour away then."


They sat in the lounge, Clarisse in the large chair nearest the window with her legs tucked up beneath her. Joseph on the couch at the opposite side of the room, he couldn't help but hate the fact she'd sat so far away and thought of it put him automatically on edge.

They'd made polite chitchat for long enough now and as the last rays of sunshine disappeared over the hill he decided to broach the topic that was uppermost in her mind.

"Clarisse."

"Hmm?" She was gazing out of the window.

"I told you I came here because I missed you."

She looked back to him sharply. "Yes." Her voice was surprisingly uncertain.

"Missed you is hardly the right term. I was painfully stubborn when you left, adamant that I wouldn't allow you to hurt me, that I could forget about you. I was wrong."

She said nothing but turned slightly in her chair to watch him as he spoke.

"I've never been a weak man Clarisse, I wasn't raised that way."

"I know." She said gently.

"But losing you, having you walk away from me, it… well it broke me. I'm not too proud to admit it, you broke me. Coupled with the arguments I was having with Philippe and I just…" he spread his hands out helplessly. "I'm not sure of the term, but I believe I came as close to a breakdown as I'm ever likely to."

"What happened to you?"

"I didn't want to go anywhere, do anything – basically I lost interest in everything and everybody. Hence the fact those ridiculous reports said I was heading for the grave. Honestly." He shook his head. "I missed a few meetings, cancelled some engagements, for the first time in my life I put myself first."

"And you're criticised for it."

"Criticised and analysed. Lost weight, couldn't sleep, and you… god you were on my mind every second of the day."

She stiffened in her chair.

"I know, I know this is uncomfortable for you to hear, I understand that. You wanted to know, I can't lie to you. Missed you doesn't even come close, never felt like this before, something vaguely similar but nothing like…knowing you were alive somewhere in the world and thinking badly of me."

"I never thought badly of you."

He settled back on the couch for the first time that evening yet his gaze was still intensely penetrating, she had to look away.

"Won't you say something? Surely you must have something to say to me?"

"What would you like me to say?" her voice was little above a whisper. "What can I possibly say?"

She stood up and moved to the window, folding her arms and gazing out into the darkness, trying to make out shapes and shadows.

"I'm not sure what you want to hear from me. Fair enough Joseph you've just told me your deepest feelings, admitted you fell apart. What am I supposed to do with that," she turned to face him, leaning back on the windowsill, arms still folded. "Am I supposed to jump up and say that somehow I can save you."

Now he stood up, dug his hands in his pocket. "God no, I'm not that childish, I'm trying to make you understand."

"I do understand."

He stopped pacing and stared directly at her incredulously.

"I do Joseph. I know how you suffer, I witnessed it myself. I also witnessed how you can change in an instant. You turn into this overbearing man who wants what he wants and god help anyone who gets in his way."

He fell back onto the couch defeated. "So I truly am a horrible person."

"No…" she moved to kneel in front of him. "No you aren't, not for one second. You forget that I also got to spend time with a wonderfully warm man, a man who would do anything for his children, who only wants the best for them. A man who likes to sit in the dark and listen to opera. The best dancer I've ever known. One of the most romantic men I've ever met."

Her voice dropped off and it took her a few seconds to regain her control.

"I'm sorry my leaving hurt you so much, honestly I am. Between us we made a real mess of things, and we could have handled it better, we should have. But… for the gift of foresight…" she sighed.

"Neither of us had ever been in that situation before, we did the best we could. All we can do now is move forward, regretting it will only make it worse; it will become some negative chapter in our lives instead of this wonderfully happy moment. That's why you coming here is wrong, because I'm just starting to move forward, I want to be able to look back and say how wonderful it was that we met and had a few blissful months together. I don't want to sit here dragging through it all, analysing every section of what went on between us. You need to let go, if you want me to somehow save you then that's my advice, let go."

He opened his mouth forcing air from his lungs, forcing himself not to shrink away from this moment but instead fight for it. "I tell my heart… it doesn't listen."

"Oh Joseph…" She rose to her full height and moved away from him.

"Clarisse I can't let go, I don't want to. We could just try."

"We can't."

"But we could, now we know the pitfalls."

"No."

"We can work through it, I want to, I want you."

"No!" She slammed her fist into the back of the chair. "No, you have no claims upon me, none. And I won't allow…"

"Won't allow yourself to feel…"

"No! Damn you, I'm not going to fold because you have more power than me, because you're superior. I'm saying no, I'm trying to be your friend. You have to settle for that or get the hell out of my house."

"I want you."

"Stop saying that. Why do you have to make this so difficult?"

He stood up and crossed the room to her. "Because I think you want me too."

The breath caught in her throat. "I…"

"All those wonderful memories Clarisse, dancing with you, holding you, that wasn't some fluke, some chemical reaction. I love you; I am in love with you. You're the only woman I've ever loved."

She shook her head. "You hurt me too much, there is no way back for us, no us."

"We can try." he reached for her hand but she snatched it away.

"I'm tired, I have to go to bed, I can't think with you here crowding me." She pushed past him exiting the lounge and running up the stairs, Joseph listened for the sound of her bedroom door slamming shut but it never came.

After spending almost fifteen minutes pacing the lounge Joseph decided he could either raid Clarisse's drink cabinet and drown his sorrows or go to bed and rethink his approach. He wasn't about to give up on her just yet.

He closed the drapes in the lounge, moved to the dining room and did the same there then went into the kitchen. He emptied the dishwasher and opened each cupboard slowly putting away all the dishes and cutlery. Then he rinsed out the coffee pot and left it to drain. Doing these tasks somehow made it easier to overlook the fact she had blatantly told him he stood no chance, he had been rejected, rejection…

Outside the night air was still warm but a light breeze had picked up and Joseph decided to have a wander around the garden in an attempt to clear his mind before bed. It was difficult to believe, he mused as he trampled over the grass, that he was here in Clarisse's garden. Here staying in her house. That he had just spilled his guts out to her; he'd never once shown a chink in the armour, never once revealed to anyone that he felt anything. On those times he had rarely shown emotion it was when he was at the bitter end, when Isabella was on her deathbed and he'd sobbed over her. Or when Philippe had told him of the baby, so angry he'd raved at the young man for hours.

This was different; this felt like his everything he'd ever done in his life had culminated in this moment. He had to throw aside this stuffy guarded man, he had to open his soul to her and make her see that when he said the words 'I love you' he said it with every ounce of his being. That deep down he wasn't some selfish self-obsessed royal, he had so much to give her, so much of himself he wanted to share with her.

All those years had passed by and he'd fallen into some routine, waiting for death to creep up to him. Meeting her had somehow changed everything, given him hope, she made him feel young again. That knot that formed in his throat when he was near her, wanting to say a million things to impress her yet unable to form a decent sentence. The way his heart seemed to fall into his stomach, that he could hardly breathe when she was near him, that whenever she touched him it seemed music was playing in his head drowning every past memory out.

Despite all his shortcomings Joseph Renaldi had never once given up on something he wanted so passionately, and he wasn't about to let her slip away again. Wasn't about to let what existed between them simply vanish into history. Time that had always seemed so all encompassing, time that appeared to drag forever, it no longer seemed long enough. Another day with her, another week, month, year… could it really be enough? Forever now seemed so very small; he intended to treasure every moment of the life he had left with her.


Hope you enjoyed it - now we're starting to get somewhere... please leave me a review, thanks! x R