Author's Note: Sorry so long between updates, but… here's the next chapter, and I promise that the next update won't be so long in coming!
The Princess Diaries doesn't belong to me.
Scott and his crew went back to the palace after breakfast (or, rather, brunch) the next morning, much to Joseph's relief. He knew he would have to let Scott pay him out a little or he would make his life uncomfortable when they finally came back to the palace. He just didn't want him to tease him in front of Clarisse, but if it got Scott off his back….
"You won't need to check up on us for a while now," Joe joked as he and Clarisse stood beside the black car. Shades, sunglasses on as usual, grinned in reply out the car window.
"Don't worry Joe, I'm more than happy to come and pick you up if you get arrested again!"
Joe rolled his eyes in disgust as Clarisse chuckled at his side.
"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"
"Of course not- my former boss, always so perfect and professional, gets arrested for drunken misbehaviour…it's so classic!"
"If we ever have another wedding ceremony again, you are not only NOT going to be my best man, but you're not even going to be invited!" Joe sounded serious, but the twinkle in his eye belied the serious tone.
"Sure," Scott said in a smart tone before Clarisse stopped chuckling and stepped forward with a grateful smile.
"Thank you so much for everything," she said calmly.
"It was our pleasure, Mrs Bonnell… anything, anytime, for you and Joe!"
After the car disappeared down the driveway, Joe turned to Clarisse with an inquisitive look.
"So… what shall we do now?" he inquired, before sneezing once, twice, three times.
"I don't know… maybe we could do the washing- I know you're dying to show me how to wash," she teased as Joe looked thoughtfully up into the sky- clouds were beginning to build on the horizon.
"It's nice that you want to do it- and I am looking forward to giving you basic lessons- but it looks like it's going to rain in a couple of hours… Why don't we do it tomorrow instead?"
"Fine with me," Clarisse said easily as Joe sneezed again, something dawning on him- he didn't want to say anything to make Clarisse worry, but he really didn't feel very well… apart from the incessant sneezing, he had a headache, his muscles were aching and he felt hot… he suspected that he may have caught a mild cold, but he was confident that he would be over it in a day.
"I don't think we should do anything today," he added as he followed her into the house. "After all, we're supposed to be retired…" before he was interrupted by another sneezing fit. Clarisse turned and laughed at him.
"I can't believe what I'm hearing- my former workaholic bodyguard, who took extra shifts of work and hated the thought of retirement, is now recommending doing very little… but it's a very sensible idea," she added in a gentler tone, caressing his cheek gently, before she frowned slightly… He felt warmer than usual, and he was a little flushed, as well as the fact that he wasn't his normal cheery self.
"Joseph, are you feeling alright?" she asked in concern as she followed him into the kitchen, and he went directly to the sink to wash up the brunch things.
"I'm fine," he turned and gave her his usual devastating smile. "I'm just a little tired, that's all…it's been an interesting few days!"
"You would tell me if you weren't feeling well, wouldn't you?" she asked, looking serious, and he nodded.
"Of course, darling… now, I need an assistant to help dry up… and then we can watch one of your movies… I'll even watch 'The Sound of Music', just as long as we get to watch…"
"One of yours afterwards, of course," Clarisse sighed, pretending to be annoyed, before smiling.
000
Almost three hours later, Clarisse sighed happily as the credits of the movie appeared on the screen, and she switched the DVD off.
"See, it wasn't as bad as all that, was it?" she teased, turning to Joseph but, to her surprise, he was asleep. Her brow furrowed- he usually never slept through the day, and usually had more energy that she- and she frowned even more when she felt his forehead… he was literally burning up!
She was severely tempted to wake him, send him to bed and call the doctor, but she knew that sleep was often the best medicine for any bug. So, she quietly stood up and swung his legs onto the couch, making him more comfortable, before sitting down in a nearby chair to watch a television show.
It was almost dinner time when Joe finally woke up, still feeling dreadful, but a tiny bit refreshed. He looked around and discovered that 1) he was stretched out on the couch, and 2) that Clarisse wasn't there.
"Cla…. Clarisse?" he called huskily, sitting up slowly, his muscles aching, before swinging his feet back onto the floor.
"I'm in the kitchen, but I'll be there in a minute!" he heard her call, but he decided to join her instead… the room spun around for a moment as he stood up, but he determinedly kept going.
When he entered the kitchen, Clarisse was standing at the stove, her back to the doorway, but she spun around when she heard his shuffling steps.
"Sweetheart! I told you I would be in… now sit down!" she walked over and gently guided him to a seat in front of the bench. "How are you feeling?"
"Pretty dreadful," he mumbled, sounding stuffy before he sneezed again, and she rubbed his back soothingly. "I think I might have a slightly cold."
"I think so too… Do you want to go upstairs to bed, and I'll bring dinner up for you?"
"No, I'll be alright down here. How long was I asleep?"
"A couple of hours."
"What did you do in all that time?" he asked, feeling guilty.
"Watched some television, went for a walk and read until it was time to start dinner… I've had plenty to do," she said lightly as she headed back to the stove.
"What are you cooking for dinner?"
"Spaghetti…bolognaise," she admitted shyly, turning to concentrate on the sauce. Joe smiled slightly- he was pleased at her increasing independence and cooking skills, but he didn't have the energy to say that, or make a joke. "You don't have to eat it if you don't want to."
"Don't worry, I'll eat a whole plateful of it!"
However, once Claris served it, much as he wanted to eat, Joe found that he wasn't particularly hungry, although he did try.
"Don't force yourself to eat if you can't," Clarisse said gently, pulling his plate away from him. "Darling, I really think you should have a quick shower and go to bed."
"You sounded quite maternal when you said that," Joseph joked weakly as he slowly stood up.
"Yes… well….I did have two very stubborn sons, remember? Besides, I don't want you unwell or suffering…" she trailed off, not wanting to sound foolish.
"You're wonderful," he murmured, pressing her hand warmly as he passed her. "And I think you're suggestion of shower and bed is an extremely smart idea."
"I'll be up to check up on you in a little while," she called after him before she heard him slowly walk upstairs.
After doing the dishes, she went upstairs and found him comfortably ensconced in bed.
"Did the shower help?" she asked, sitting on the edge of his side of the bed and running her hand over his forehead- he still felt a little feverish- before taking his hand in hers.
"A little, but I still feel…" as he was interrupted by another sneezing fit, before leaning back on his pillow. "Lucky for me, however, I usually get over colds fairly easily."
"I hope so, although you still feel hot…" before he suddenly stumbled out of bed and dashed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
After waiting a few minutes, she timidly walked over and knocked on the door.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm f-fine…. Just leave me for a bit."
Respecting his wishes, she quietly went back downstairs to retrieve a bucket and some water for him, hoping that it wasn't too serious. She was coming back into the room when he emerged from the bathroom, looking white as a ghost, and Clarisse didn't hesitate to rush over and help him back into bed. He still felt warm, but he was also shivering as he pulled the covers up high.
"I think you might have the flu," she said, going into the bathroom to get a cold compress and aspirin, two of which he accepted gratefully.
"I feel rotten," he complained as he lay down in bed, clutching her hand, and she smiled- he was almost childlike when he was sick, but she didn't mind… in fact, it reminded her of when the boys were sick…..particularly Phillipe- she never left his side when he was sick.
"What are you smiling at?" he asked curiously, and she reddened slightly before she decided to be honest.
"This reminds me of the time when Phillipe was sick, and I stayed at his bedside almost all week…"
***********************
Clarisse was, as usual, busy working at her desk, her assistant Jane standing over her like a sentry guard, when there was a timid knock on the door, and the boys nanny stepped into the room when bidden by Jane.
"I hate to disturb you…" she began as Clarisse looked up.
"Is something wrong?" The nanny only came to see here when there was something wrong, or the boys had been naughty.
"Prince Phillipe isn't feeling well- I think he might have the chicken pox."
"Have you called the doctor?" Clarisse asked, getting up from her desk, work forgotten.
"Yes, he's on his way, and His Highness is in bed… but he's asking for you…"
With that, Clarisse definitely forgot about her work, and the letters she had to sign, and hurried over to the nanny.
"What about the rest of these letters?" Jane protested.
"I'll do them later," Clarisse brushed the question aside quickly, and left the room, the nanny behind her- all that mattered was that she had to see her baby.
"Mama," Phillipe began to cry when Clarisse came into the room, and Clarisse instantly knew that if 7-year-old Phillipe was crying, he definitely wasn't well.
"I'm here, darling," she said soothingly, sitting down beside him on the bed, and cuddled him close as he cried into her shoulder.
After a moment, when he had calmed down again, she brushed his hair back, and felt his clammy forehead (indicative of a fever) before spying a few telltale pox developing on his face.
"Yes, I think you've got the chicken pox," she sighed before the nanny spoke up.
"Your Majesty, have you had the chicken pox?"
"I think so," Clarisse fibbed lightly- she might not have had it, but she wasn't going anywhere, or leaving her son when he was sick. "But… I do know that Phillipe hasn't had it, so make sure that you don't let him in here. He may have been exposed to it, so he should probably be kept in the fresh air as much as possible."
The doctor arrived a little while later and confirmed that Phillipe did have the chicken pox.
"He should stay in bed for a few days, rest and have plenty of fluids… and when he gets itchy, give him a bath/shower with this," he handed the nanny a bottle of liquid. "It will help ease the itchiness, and also use calamine lotion if necessary… Now, young man," he turned back to Phillipe with a mock solemn expression. "Try not to scratch the pox as much as possible, even if it's really itchy…"
"Yes sir," Phillipe replied just as solemnly before the doctor grinned and gave him a lollipop.
After the doctor left, there was another knock on the door, and in stepped Rupert.
"How's my boy?" he asked jovially, not coming any closer, and Phillipe, still nestled comfortably in his mother's arms, smiled weakly at him.
"I have the chicken pox, Father, but Mama's staying here with me…"
"I see… I can't stay long because I have a meeting, but I'll come in and see you again later," he smiled at his son before giving Clarisse a look, and she quickly walked over to him.
"It is the chicken pox, and Pierre is barred from the room… it should only last a week or so, and I think he may have caught it from the children that were here last week… you know, Arthur Mabrey's son, as, apparently they had only just recovered…"
"Mmm," Rupert said, non-committal. "Anyway, when are you going to finish those letters?" he asked as he opened the door, and Clarisse realised that Jane had probably gone to him to complain, which annoyed her. She had been her assistant for 11 or so years, but she still only had loyalty towards Rupert.
"Maybe a little later- I want to see Phillipe settled first."
"My dear, he has a nanny, and a nurse will be coming in later… he'll be fine."
"Hmmm," Clarisse said vaguely, not at all convinced, but she wasn't going to get into another argument with him.
"Mama?" came a small voice from behind her as she looked at the door Rupert had just left, and Clarisse turned back to Phillipe with a warm smile.
"Yes sweetheart?"
"Can you make me some of your chicken soup?" he smiled, half weakly and half winningly at her, and she couldn't help but laugh- he was so cute, and he always knew how to get around her, but he never did it to be manipulative- she just couldn't resist him.
"Alright, but you have to have a nap afterwards."
"Alright, Mama."
0
The kitchen staff was surprised when their Queen came into the kitchen and, after asking where certain items and ingredients were, began making her famous chicken soup, but Clarisse didn't care.
"Can I have some of your soup?" 10-year-old Pierre sidled up to where she was spooning the soup into containers, and she smiled over at him.
"Of course… you do know that you're not going to be allowed in Phillipe's room for a few days, don't you?"
"Uh huh- he's got the chicken pox, and I don't," he smiled triumphantly as he accepted a bowl of soup from his mother. "However, I wouldn't have minded having a few days in bed."
Phillipe happily ate his soup before both Clarisse and his nanny insisted that he have a nap, and he didn't fight them.
"Will you be here when I wake up?" he asked Clarisse anxiously, and her heart went out to him- he was so vulnerable…
"Of course I will," she said, bending down to kiss his forehead. "But you go to sleep now."
Despite having a full calendar of commitments and work, Clarisse spent most of the week with Phillipe, much to Rupert's annoyance. Clarisse was relieved when Phillipe recovered (and Pierre didn't get it) - she hated her boys being sick- but then she began to feel unwell herself…
"Your Majesty," her doctor smiled apologetically at her after the examination. "I hate to break the bad news, but you have the chicken pox."
**********************
"You had the chicken pox?" Joseph chuckled sleepily as his eyes began to close. "I would have liked to have seen you covered in spots."
"I'm sure you would have, you cheeky man," she chuckled softly. "Thankfully we had both recovered by the time you began work here…" she trailed off as he let go of her hand and turned on his side.
She watched his back for a moment, his deep, slightly nasal breathing indicating that he was asleep, before deciding to sleep in one of the spare rooms, not wanting to disturb him.
000
The next morning, she was up and about early, but Joseph was still asleep when she went in to check on him. He still felt warm, but was still pale, so she decided to call Dr Bangs when she went to get breakfast, and he said that he would be there in an hour.
Joseph was awake when she came back upstairs, leaning back on his pillow, looking pale, grumpy and exhausted, quite unlike the energetic, cheerful man he usually was.
"How are you feeling, darling?" she asked gently as she set down the tray down on the table and sat down on the side of the bed.
"I still feel horrible," he complained, sounding very stuffy. "I haven't been this sick since I had the flu years ago!"
"Dr Bangs is on his way out, so he'll be able to tell you what's wrong," she said briskly, fluffing up his pillows.
"No, I won't see him," he said, sounding and looking like a sulky child.
"Yes you will," she retorted firmly, giving him a look. "I'm insisting on this- you're rarely sick, and I want you checked out."
"Great," he groaned, before going a pale green, pushing the covers aside, stumbling out of bed and dashing towards the bedroom- almost exactly the same as the previous evening.
"I guess you don't want breakfast," she teased lightly when he emerged from the bathroom, and he glowered at her- he definitely wasn't well if he had lost his good humour.
"I think I'm going to have another sleep," he mumbled, turning his back towards Clarisse and curling up in bed.
0
An hour later, Dr Bangs arrived, and Clarisse met him at the door.
"Thank you for making time to come out here… I may be overreacting…" she said as she led the way upstairs.
"Nonsense, Clarisse- if Joseph is sick, I can understand why you would call…. Good morning Joe," he said heartily as they walked into the bedroom where a glowering Joseph was waiting for them.
"Good morning Peter," Joe responded in slightly less cranky voice as he sat up in bed. "I don't know why you're here…"
"I do- your wife called to tell me you're sick, and I believe her… and now, let's have a look at you."
After he examined Joe, he looked from Joe to Clarisse and back to Joe again.
"I'm afraid that you do have a mild dose of the flu, as well as a stomach bug… all I can really do is suggest that you drink plenty of fluids, eat when you can and all the other tricks you have- lemon and honey, hot drinks, aspirin and fruit- and I'll also write a prescription out for some antibiotics…"
"Did you want me to go down town and pick up these things for you?" Dr Bangs asked when he and Clarisse got back downstairs and, for a moment, Clarisse was indignant- he was very well meaning, but she wasn't useless- she could do it herself!
"No, but thank you- that's really very kind of you- I'm sure that one of the security boys will do it for me when they arrive to check up on us," Clarisse fibbed smoothly. She felt bad for telling a white line to her trusted physician, but she had already planned to do the shopping herself.
"But Joseph, is he…"
Dr Bangs smiled easily, understanding her concern.
"He'll be fine in a day or so, Clarisse, he's got a very strong constitution and sleep, at the moment, is the best thing for him."
"Thank you, again, for coming out," she said as he stepped into his car, and he smiled out the window at her.
"Anything for you and Joe, Clarisse."
Once he left, Clarisse knew she had to go downtown and do some shopping, but there was something else she had to do first- the washing. She knew Joseph wanted to give her a hand, but she had decided to do it without any help. It was as if she wanted to prove to Joseph that she could be independent, although she knew that he knew it, and encouraged it.
"I can do this," she muttered to herself, marching determinedly into the laundry, where the basket full of clothes was waiting. Common sense told her that whites shouldn't be washed with darks or reds, and the colours were to be separated into darks and reds.
"This is easy…" she murmured as she unloaded the white clothing from the automatic machine and put them into the basket, ready to hang them on the line.
Everything was going to plan until she came to washing the reds. She must have put too much soap powder in because, to horror, soap bubbles began to foam out the door and, when she opened the door, it almost exploded out onto the floor, splashing around her heels.
"Oh no!" she cried, before slamming the door shut again and hoping that it wouldn't happen again. Thankfully, it didn't, and she hastily mopped up the suds on the tiled floor as the washing finished its cycle.
She was just beginning to relax, hoping that everything else would be alright, when she unloaded the washing and …. Her heart sank when she pulled out the reds and discovered there, among them, was a white shirt that had formerly been one of Joseph's good white shirts… she could only imagine what he was going to say…
Crushed at the failure of her experiment, Clarisse quickly hung the clothes out on the line (eyes averted when she came to the dreaded shirt) and, after checking on Joseph again (he was asleep), made a shopping list and left the house.
She was a little nervous when she got behind the wheel- this was the second time she had driven in many years, and there was no Joseph to encourage her- before she remembered that this was for Joseph, and she quickly started the car.
When she arrived in town, she found a car park near the chemist quite safely, but, for a moment, she had second thoughts about getting out- maybe this wasn't such a good idea… she could be recognised, or mobbed, and she had no protection if the worst should happen… .but, she reasoned, she would be quick and, emboldened, she stepped out of the car.
The girl who served her at the chemist was momentarily surprised when she saw Clarisse, but she covered it by saying: "How may I help you?" and it suited Clarisse to have fifteen to twenty minutes for the prescription- it would give her enough time to do what she wanted to do.
Meanwhile, back at the house, Joe woke up and, after a moment, realised that the house was oddly silent.
"Clarisse?" he called in a hoarse voice, before clearing his throat and trying again. He was ashamed at how cranky he had been to her all morning, and he wanted to apologise. When there was no response, he summoned all of his energy to climb out of bed. He was feeling alright when he left the bedroom but, by the time he arrived at the kitchen, he was feeling a little giddy, so he sat down at the table. Looking around the room, he realised that she wasn't there either.
"Must have gone for a walk on the beach," he surmised to himself, before realising that the bedroom was too far away… he was very tired…
0
Clarisse, meanwhile, successfully completed her errands within half an hour- after dropping the prescription off at the chemist, she went grocery shopping to pic up a few flu remedies. There were a few stares as she passed, but she kept her head down and tried and to be as unobtrusive as possible- but she was very relieved when she made it back to the car. She only hoped that Joseph was still asleep when she got back- she suspected that he would not be pleased if he knew she had gone downtown alone and, luckily, the house was still quiet when she got back.
She was unpacking the groceries when she heard a noise from the living room, and she looked up to see Joseph walking slowly into the kitchen.
"Hello darling," she said tenderly. "How are you now?"
"A little better… where were you?" he asked, his eyes moving to the bags that had, moments ago, been holding groceries, and Clarisse knew that it was no good trying to fib- not that she ever could with him.
"Well, I…I…I…" she stuttered, still trying to think of an excuse as his eyes narrowed suspiciously, and she finally realised she had to tell the truth.
"I went down town to fill Peter's prescription for you, and get a few things…" she trailed off, seeing the look of horror on his face for, despite the fact he was sick, Clarisse knew that he was furious.
"Did I hear you correctly?" he finally said in a dangerously low voice. "You said you went downtown, ALONE, to fill a stupid prescription?" he asked, his voice getting louder.
"Yes, I wanted to help."
"Why did you do that? I'm sure Peter Bangs would have been happy to do it for you!"
"He did offer, but I wanted to do it myself- and besides, I'm back, perfectly safe," Clarisse said reassuringly, but Joseph still look angry.
"It was an absolutely stupid idea," he snapped, in no way reassured. "Something could have happened to you…"
"But it didn't!" she protested before Joe spoke over the top of her.
"I would have thought you might have realised you shouldn't have gone downtown on your own… it was an idiotic idea, Clarisse, and I can't believe you did it. It's something your granddaughter would have done…."
He paused to catch his breath, and failed to notice the tears brimming in his wife's eyes.
"I don't ever want to hear of you doing something like that again!" he bellowed, before storming out of the kitchen.
Clarisse stared after him for a moment, stunned at his fury, before she burst into tears and fled out onto the beach.
She avoided her husband for the rest of the day, but, fortunately, this was made easier by the fact that he was asleep most of the time, so she left his dinner and medication on a tray beside his bed.
It was a lonely afternoon and evening for Clarisse, watching television and eating dinner alone, but she wasn't at all tempted to go anywhere near Joseph. There was only so much crankiness she could take. When she went upstairs to bed, she heard the television going in the main bedroom, but she crept past and went to bed early. Hopefully he would be feeling better (and be in a better mood) in the morning…
000
It was very early the next morning, the sun creeping into the room, when Joseph woke up, feeling much better- the sleeping and medication had worked well- and with a horrible guilty feeling he had ill treated Clarisse. Yes, she had been rather silly going down town on her own, but she had meant well, and had come back safely.
He looked over to her side of the bed, ready to apologise but, to his surprise, she wasn't there… where was she?
After checking downstairs, he suddenly realised she was probably asleep in one of the spare rooms. He snuck into the room next to the main suite, and found her sleeping, curled up on her side. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, his heart ached when he saw the slightly sad expression on her face.
After a moment, he caressed her cheek gently and, stirring, she gazed sleepily at him before waking up fully, and pulling away, a hurt expression on her face.
"Clarisse… I am sorry for being so cranky to you all day yesterday," he said remorsefully. "I especially didn't mean to yell at you, but I was so shocked…"
"It was a rather silly thing to do," Clarisse admitted quietly, softening slightly, and sitting up against her pillow.
"But I know you meant well," he continued as he leaned against the head board. "I just felt so rotten yesterday that I needed to vent out on someone- unfortunately that someone was you, but that's no excuse for my behaviour… I just didn't like the thought of you…"
Clarisse smiled- she couldn't stay mad at him when he was being vulnerable, and she allowed him to take her hand in his.
"And that protectiveness is something I appreciate… actually, I was going to back out when I got there," she admitted shyly. "But I did just want to help…"
"I appreciate that, but please don't do that again," he said seriously as he hopped into bed next to her, and put an arm around her.
"I promise," she smiled over at him, and he kissed the tip of her nose. "How are you, by the way?"
"I'm feeling much better- sleeping for two days really helped- but I usually get over these bugs fairly quickly… I just hope you don't get it."
"I've already had it- last year, remember?" she teased gently. "But, I might have been a slightly better patient that you are!"
"I deserved that," he laughed, hugging her tightly. "But, I'm curious- what did you get up to yesterday… apart from the unauthorised trip into town," he added hastily as Clarisse opened her mouth to speak.
"Well… I have a confession to make- I tried to do the washing yesterday."
"Oh?" Joe suddenly looked interested. "You were having quite a little Miss Independence Day yesterday, weren't you? So, how did you go?"
"Quite well, until…"
Joseph couldn't help but burst out laughing when Clarisse recounted her sorry tale of her washing adventure.
"First the soap powder burst out of the machine, and then the shirt… you really had a good time, didn't you?"
"It's not funny… and that shirt…it's pink!"
"It's alright darling- I didn't wear it all that much…"
"I'll replace it, I promise!" she looked at him anxiously, and he only pulled her close.
"You don't need to worry about that… I'm impressed you tried it on your own and, for the most part, succeeded… you were very enthusiastic about a job that most people try to get out of!"
"Oh, and by the way… your brother called yesterday- he would like us to visit in the next couple of weeks… apparently Annie's still here, and he thought we would like to see her before she goes back to New York…"
"Sure… give me a couple more days, and then we'll be able to go to England… by the way, does he know about that other little incident?"
"Um…" Clarisse pretended to look vague for a moment, before smiling. "Unfortunately, darling, he does- there was a little blurb in one of their papers, and James sent copies of the paper to him…"
"Great!" he groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Can't anyone keep a secret around here?"
Clarisse laughed as she leant her cheek against his shoulder, and rubbed his back sympathetically.
"Most of the time they can, but I just don't think they could resist…"
"I can only imagine what he's going to say!"
"Well, you're just going to have to wait and see…"