Author's note: So, this story was sitting around doing nothing and I rather liked it but it's not really driven by anything which constitutes plot. It's just a little reflection, I suppose, and a little character study and an exploration of Joseph's family because I am fascinated by that and have a whole canon in my head that I'd like to flesh out one day. That's for another time though, this was just for a bit of light-relief.

The story will be in four parts. Please leave a review if you'd like.

Disclaimer: None of these characters, recognisable from the Princess Diaries franchise, belong to me. They belong to Disney. The original characters are mine (no one will want them) and I make no monetary gain from writing.

"Trust your heart if the seas catch fire, live by love though the stars walk backward."

-E.E. Cummings

"You look tired," Clarisse said after a while of silence, lifting her head from the papers in front of her, "In fact, exhausted, I might go as far as to say."

He rubbed his hand over his face which was sticky with sweat. He was feeling more than tired, in truth he felt thoroughly ill. His stomach was giddy with motion, his eyes were bleary and his skull was nipped to tension with an agonising headache.

"Just…" he smiled, "I can't seem to shake this."

She raised a brow, "I told you to take the day off."

He laughed, "I don't want to."

"Typical of your gender," she said, "Cannot lie down to anything."

He took a warming gulp of his coffee, "That isn't strictly true. It's more typical of my culture."

She gave him a crooked smile.

"Look at you," she motioned with her hand, "It is warm in here and you are shivering. And how, might I ask, is it typical of your culture?"

"I haven't been able to get rid of it since coming back from America," he sat back and wrapped his arms around himself, "To answer your question, dear, the Spanish invented the word 'macho'. It is something I think I am rather inclined towards."

She gave him an askance glance, "You love yourself Joseph, don't you?"

He grinned but it hurt his head to do so, "Yes."

"If you retired to your bed for a few days, I wouldn't disappear."

"Would you nurse me?"

She put her papers to the side, "Do I look like the nursing type?"

He found her very amusing, regardless of how awful he felt, "Oh…I can just imagine you in that outfit…"

She frowned, "Enough."

"Sorry darling," he winced as a pain shot over his back and up into his neck.

"Oh for Heaven's sake Joseph," she leaned forward, "Despite how gallant you think it is, watching you suffer is far from romantic, all joking aside. And…"

He tipped his head to the side, "And?"

"And I need you at your best," she finally muttered, obviously uncomfortable, "And not just because you are the Head of Security."

"Then why?"

"Because…" she lifted up her tea cup and he could see she was trying to hide her face.

"Go on Clarisse," he laughed, "It won't kill you if you say it."

"Because," she rolled her eyes, "Because I love you. Almost as much as you love you."

He nodded and stood, "Well dear, I would give in to you but tomorrow my sister is visiting this weekend and I'm meeting her in the city. I'll go to bed right now though," he bowed cheekily, "Asking your forgiveness for cutting our evening short, and I will see you in the morning."

Still in his bow, he leaned in to kiss her.

She turned her mouth away, "Cheek," she indicated with her finger, "Can't have both of us sick."

He laughed again, actually relieved to be retiring to bed, "Good night Your Majesty."

"Good night Joseph."

-0-

Clarisse smiled as Mia sat down beside her, pulling a plate of fruit towards her as she did.

"Good morning grandma," she placed a pile of books down.

"Good morning," Clarisse motioned to the books, "Studying I see."

"Not long till junior end of year exams," Mia said gravely, "And I want to keep my grade average up."

Clarisse nodded, "I am incredibly impressed Amelia. Aside from the weekly meeting with Sebastian today, you are free to study all day."

The girl smiled warmly, "Thanks grandma," then she motioned to the empty seat, "Where's Joe?"

It was, to Clarisse's mind, a sensible question. He was never late, never lacked punctuality. He was the opposite of her entirely. He was usually first for breakfast, where he was on shift always, and she pretended always to invite him to eat. It had grown into a routine really, the three of them eating breakfast together when Mia was home at first. Then when Mia left, they both simply carried it on.

"A good question…"

At that the door to her chambers opened and the subject of their conversation came into view. To say he looked markedly worse than the night before would not have been an understatement. His head was prickled with visible, even from Clarisse's vantage point at the far end of her suite, beads of sweat. His shirt, obviously fresh, was clinging to his soaked chest and he was pulling at his tie with the irritation of someone struggling for breath.

Along with Mia, she was immediately on her feet.

"Joseph!"

He held up a hand, "I'm fine Clarisse."

She knew that was not true because, aside from the fact he was a sickly shade of grey, he rarely used her name in front of anyone, not even Amelia.

When he lurched forward her suspicions were definitely confirmed. Luckily he had the self-preservation to reach out to the side-table, the only thing saving him from the cold floor.

"Mia," she said quietly, "Send for Charlotte please."

Her granddaughter, though evidently panicked, went to the phone.

Clarisse strode forward and gripped his shoulders. Joseph was much heavier than her, a solid mass of admittedly attractive muscle, and she would never manage to hold him for any length of time to guide him to his room. His ascetic drive towards physical fitness was attractive when it did not hinder her as it did now and she cursed his determination to stay out the course, even when he was clearly very ill.

"Come on," she pulled at him, "Bed."

"I'm-"

"Don't even say it Joseph," she sniped impatiently, forcing him to walk towards her room.

Typically they found themselves in her room in very different circumstances and only rarely, because of propriety and fear and all of the things that kept their relationship in the shadows. Right now though she couldn't think on that.

"I can't..uh..sleep…here," he slurred, weakly pulling back.

"What else do you suggest?" She closed the door to her bedroom with a kick of her high-heeled foot, "I cannot carry you to your apartments and I am certainly not going to have you lying in the sitting room. You are ill. Do not make me angry as well as worried."

"I love when you get angry at me."

He smiled groggily and flopped on to the bed. He helped her set the covers aside with an assisting foot after she pulled off his shoes and let them fall with a soft thud to the floor.

"Clarisse…" he said lowly, "Clarisse I feel terrible."

She resisted tears and said briskly, "I know. Get some sleep. I will call the doctor."

As she turned to go the bedroom door opened and Amelia entered, followed by Shades and a stricken looking Charlotte. She sucked in a deep breath and attempted a smile that she knew was weak.

"It appears our Head of Security is rather…" she flourished a hand, "Out of action. Scott, you will need to take over. Charlotte, please send for the surgeon. Can you call from my sitting room please? Don't go to your office. The entire palace need not be involved."

Charlotte nodded and left again.

"Your Majesty, are you okay?"

She avoided looking at Amelia's worried face. The girl could not draw her eyes from Joseph's form. Instead she turned to the young man.

"I am, thank you Scott," she nodded, "You should go and await the surgeon."

After he left Clarisse watched as Mia inched towards the man on the bed and touched a pale hand to his glistening forehead.

"He's on fire," she murmured darkly, "Grandma-"

"He will be absolutely fine," she lied.

Despite all that logic was telling her – that it was just a bad infection or a flu or something – Clarisse was panicked beyond all reason and she did not need everyone around her to be reflecting that panic back on to her.

"Of course he – "

Charlotte re-entered, not even knocking, "The Royal Surgeon will be here in ten minutes."

Clarisse nodded and went towards the bed where she resisted the temptation to touch his burning face, "Thank you Charlotte."

For only ten minutes it seemed like an interminable amount of time in which Clarisse found herself mostly occupied with horrible thoughts. Shades eventually brought him in though, the young and relatively newly appointed Royal Surgeon. He had only come on board when Rupert had died and while he was competent enough, Clarisse had never quite warmed to him as she had his predecessor.

He bowed hastily, "Your Majesty. Are you quite well?"

"Yes," she motioned to the bed, "My Head of Security, you know Colonel Romerro, is quite unwell though."

He looked momentarily startled then snapped his head towards Charlotte, "You said there was an emergency, Miss Kutaway?"

Charlotte nodded, nonplussed by his questioning. The surgeon turned back to Clarisse after a shake of the head.

"Forgive me Your Majesty but I am the Royal Surgeon," he laughed bluntly, "Your staff are covered by their insurance, are they not? I treat the royals, not their staff."

If Clarisse had been near an object that was cheap enough to have been hurled at him, she would have aimed directly for his gut. From Amelia's audible gasp Clarisse's face was either evidently displaying her rage or she was appalled as her grandmother. There was every chance it was both.

Clarisse was frightened she would scream so instead she lowered her voice to the verge of a whisper, "Dear master surgeon, I strongly suggest you go about your task without another comment regarding the position or ancestry of your current patient. Otherwise you might find yourself on the end of a rather well executed campaign to smear your name and ensure your reputation goes before you in the worst way. Colonel Romerro here is very good at such a move but in his absence, I am sure I could manage."

He had paled almost as much as Joseph, "Of course Your Majesty."

He went about his business as the four other people in the room stood back and watched quietly. She imagined he was rather nervous now, as right he should be, because his audience clearly despised him already. What he had failed to realise, while scoffing at the prospect of treating a mere commoner, was that this particular commoner was the linchpin, at times, of the entire Renaldi reign. The other four people in the chamber knew it though and they would never let such snobbery slide.

The doctor turned after what Clarisse would judge as a thorough examination.

"It's a very bad viral infection," he said, "He'll need lots of fluid and to sleep it off. Trying to fight it was probably a bad idea. He should have rested. Someone will need to monitor his temperature every hour and if it gets any higher than now, you will need to call me again and we will have to get him to a hospital. He has a bad fever that must be monitored. I can write up some painkillers to help him but that is about it."

She nodded, "Are you certain that is all that it is?"

He nodded, "Yes, Your Majesty. If you do not call for me again, I will phone in tomorrow morning to see if he's better."

She watched him pack his things, "Thank you doctor."

He bowed stiffly, "You're welcome Your Majesty."

There was silence for a moment, then she turned to the others, whose eyes were all on Joseph.

"I will be remaining with Joseph. Charlotte, please phone Sebastian and give my apologies for this afternoon. I –"

"I'll do it grandma," Mia said eagerly, "I've done countless meetings like this with you and Sebastian. I can do it on my own."

She considered for a moment then nodded her agreement, "Charlotte you will be on hand?"

"Of course."

"Your Majesty, I can watch him," Scott said, "Or one of the men can. We'll get him down to his apartments and-"

"He goes nowhere," she said firmly, her jaw shaking against irrational tears, "And I will be looking after him."

"Grandma, I can-"

She spun on her heels to look at the three of them, "I am telling you, kindly, you must let me do this. He is my oldest friend. I am not asking you, I am telling you."

Their mouths closed against their protests and they nodded silently.

"Charlotte, please send for Olivia and Priscilla. Scott, I need you to take charge for the foreseeable future."

He nodded, "I was going to be in charge tomorrow anyway. Joseph was-"

She flung her head back as she recalled, "His sister."

"Oh yeah," Mia chimed in, "Magda. She is in Pyrus for a conference."

Clarisse nodded, "We will need to contact her."

Charlotte shrugged, "How do we do that Your Majesty?"

"His cell phone," Mia answered, as if the answer were obvious as to be boring.

"His cell phone is in his pocket, always," Shades motioned in Joseph's direction with an awkward smile.

There was a pause then Mia said;

"I'm not doing it."

And Scott and Charlotte merely bowed their heads.

Clarisse resisted the urge to glare at their stupidity and threw her hands out.

"Well I don't intend to have his sister waiting at a restaurant somewhere for her brother who isn't going to show," she pulled the sleeves of her blazer up and pushed the sheets back to his knees.

She fished in the pocket nearest her first, producing keys and a handful of coins. Humiliatingly she had to put one knee on the bed to balance herself and lean over him to reach the other pocket. Her bed had always been impractically high and she had to really stretch onto to the tip of her grounded foot. She managed it though, her fingers delving into the pocket and closing around the cell phone.

"Clarisse…" he groaned lowly, "Not now dar-"

She jumped back so hastily that she had to squeal anyway, such was her fright, but it also helped to drown out his rather lusty groan. She knew he was hallucinating and not truly aware of the others in the room but it was absolutely, categorically, not the time or place for it.

She straightened up and held the phone out to Mia, who she could see was resisting giggles as well as she managed to resist chocolate.

"Here, find his sister's contact details. I cannot for the life of me work these things."

She looked at Charlotte and Shades, neither of whom could bring themselves to look her in the eye. And she just knew that the boy was fighting a laugh that would surely permit her to rip his head off. She decided to save them from their humiliation.

"Charlotte, the maids please, and Sebastian. Scott, sort your team out."

Giving curt nods, they skulked out.

She turned to Mia, who held the phone in the palm of her hand.

It was only when it was ringing she realised she had no idea what to say. All she knew was it was rude not to contact her. Clearly Joseph was in no fit state to go to Pyrus, even the following day, to see his sister and his sister had travelled all the way from Geneva, albeit for a conference, but it was impolite not to let her know. There were, in short, a plethora of reasons to contact her.

She didn't have much more time to think over it as a polite voice answered, "Hello Joe."

She paused, "Actually, please forgive me, this is not your brother."

The other voice laughed but it was short, "No, unless he's become a very polite woman."

"I am…" she realised suddenly she had no idea how to introduce herself because people always introduced her, "I am…my name is Clarisse. I am…"

"And I am Magda," the lady said on the other end, "And you're not just Clarisse, right?"

It was amazing that her speech pattern was so similarly casual to her brother's.

"Indeed."

"Is everything alright, Your Majesty?" She heard the alarm in the other woman's voice.

"Well, nothing dreadful," she said this as much for her own comfort as his sister's, "Joseph has come down with a rather terrible virus and…," she dared to look at him, still in the bed as Mia held a washcloth to his head, "Well he won't be fit to meet you."

"Oh," she could hear the disappointment in Magda's voice, "Oh that's quite alright."

She didn't quite know what possessed her, "You are welcome to visit him here. I can't promise he will be riveting company."

Magda laughed, "No I wouldn't want to do that."

"I insist. If you wish to see him you should," she said genuinely.

There was a momentary pause, "Alright."

"Alright," she nodded, "I'll have the security clear you."

How stupid, she thought for a second, that she couldn't invite the man she loved's sister into her own home without checking with the security she was surrounded by.

"That seems like an awful lot-"

"Tush," she said gently, "It is not. At any rate, he will be pleased to just know you were here."

"Alright Your Majesty," she said on the other end, "I suppose I shall get to meet you tomorrow."

"Indeed, take care."

She set the phone aside and looked up. Amelia was gaping at her with a mix of admiration and incredulity.

"Did you just invite her here?"

"Yes," she answered, feeling a little dazed, "I suppose I did."

"You know he will flip."

Clarisse looked at him then to her granddaughter, "When he's conscious, you mean?"

"Fair point," Mia held up the cloth, "This is nearly dry."

She nodded and, taking the cloth from her granddaughter, crossed to the bathroom. When she was inside she twisted the cold faucet on hard and braced herself against the sink. She felt incredibly fragile right now, despite her own logic. The thought of him being ill or, dare she consider it, of losing him was a terrible reality that felt like a weight she'd never carried before.

He had been sick only twice in his entire time at the palace and even then it hadn't been real sickness. It had been a cold once and a knee operation the second time. This time he was really floored and for the first time, maybe because she had been avoiding it up until now, she had to acknowledge that he was mortal.

Because Clarisse had never seen him as a mortal, not really. He had always been so very there and so solid and constant.

It made things more focused somehow, throwing their hidden relationship into stark relief. She felt tears piercing her eyes, brought on by the unfairness of it all, and pulled in a deep breath to stem their flow.

She rung the cloth out and headed back in to the chamber.

Mia lifted her head, "He's been muttering away."

"Do you think it is growing worse?"

"No," her granddaughter shook her head, "He's just dreaming."

She handed her granddaughter the cloth just as Priscilla entered and gave a quick curtsey.

"What can I do Your Majesty?"

She could see Priscilla's eyes lingering on the Head of Security's face.

"He is fine Priscilla, just exhausted," she soothed, "I need you to fetch a few fresh wash cloths. And, if you could be a dear, fetch me some tea and something for lunch."

The maid turned to go.

"Mia, would you mind staying with him for just a moment longer until I change out of this incredibly uncomfortable suit?" she motioned to the admittedly beautiful but very restrictive Ferragamo two-piece.

Mia nodded, "Sure."

She slipped out again, this time into the quiet of the chamber, where Charlotte was working at her own desk.

"Charlotte, was Sebastian okay?"

Her secretary smiled, "He was, yes. He is going to be here in an hour and we'll meet in the drawing room."

Clarisse smiled, "Thank you Charlotte."

Her secretary placed her pen down, "Are you alright, Your Majesty?"

She closed her eyes and took in a breath, "I am. Thanks to you."

Charlotte dipped her head, "Not at all."

After changing into far more comfortable slacks and a white shirt she headed back in, feeling slightly calmer than she had been just twenty minutes before.

"Looks comfier," Mia climbed off the bed and went towards the dresser, where Priscilla had evidently left the fresh clothes, the doctor's prescription and a tray with tea and lunch.

"It is," she watched as Mia dipped a fresh cloth in the iced water bowl, which the maid had thoughtfully left behind, and then took it from her.

"Go and have a rest and freshen up before you meet Sebastian and please, let me know how it goes."

Mia dived in for a clumsy peck to her cheek before she went.

Then she was alone. Alone with the very frightening idea of being alone more permanently than she'd ever really thought she could be. She pushed it to the back of her mind, told herself he would be okay.

She stood in the silence for a moment, then she grabbed her book and climbed on to the other side of the bed.

"It's just you and me old man."

So, did you enjoy?