Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, and I make no money from this work of fiction!

SNOWBOUND!

It happened on the way back from a state visit to the country north of Genovia. The entourage was coming through mountains of Libbit when a freak snow storm blew up. Snow is not usual even in the mountains in early August, and none of the weather reports had predicted such high winds or massive amounts of snow. A rock fall narrowly missed the car that Queen Clarisse was riding in, and it completely blocked the road behind her car so that retreat was impossible. Joseph, with the use of his cell phone, was able to ascertain that no one had been injured in the cars behind. The two cars in front of the slide kept moving, hoping to find shelter from the storm at one of the scattered homes along the mountain road. The first car, carrying the Prime Minister, his wife and daughter was all too soon separated from the queen's car. Shades, who had been assigned to drive Queen Clarisse that day, was cursing the snow and the impending dusk under his breath as he peered through the ice-encrusted windshield. Joseph was in the front with him, Charlotte and Clarisse were behind the men. Now that they were deeper into the mountains, the cell phone no longer worked. Joseph jammed the phone back into the case with a growl after many futile attempts to contact the Motaz' car.

"We'd better get out and scrape the windshield off -- the defroster can't take it." he said, at last.

Shades nodded, and gingerly slowed down. "At least I know I'm safe from anyone slamming into us from behind!"

Charlotte's question came from the rear as Shades and Joseph opened their doors. "What is it now?"

"Can't see!" was the retort which floated back.

"Oh, dear," Clarisse bit her lip, feeling helpless. "I shouldn't have insisted we come back today!"

"How could you have known about this storm, your Majesty?" inquired Charlotte.

The men, blowing hard and rubbing their hands together, jumped back in the car and the tortuous journey was resumed. Suddenly there was a bang, then another. Charlotte smothered a scream, and Clarisse's hands tightened in her lap.

Cursing again, Shades stopped the car and he and Joseph got out. In moments they were back in the warmth of the car. "Flat tires," both announced wearily.

"Keep going," Joseph instructed. "We can't stay here. We'll get the wheel rims repaired later."

"Can you see a light anywhere up ahead or around, Charlotte?" Clarisse whispered to her assistant.

"No, your Majesty," was the murmured response. "I can't see a thing through this storm."

Suddenly the car lurched, seemed to pick up speed as it spun, then stopped abruptly on a steep angle. For a moment there was silence, then Shades slapped the wheel with both hands, and put his head down on it. "I'm sorry!" he spoke in a muffled voice.

"Maybe the other car will miss us and come back?" Clarisse ventured, hopefully.

"Maybe," was Joseph's terse answer, "but highly unlikely. It would be too dangerous. If only I could raise someone on the phone to let them know where we are!" He checked his cell phone again, but again there was no signal.

"Do you know where we are?" Clarisse asked, a little surprised.

"I have a vague idea," he shrugged, then turned around in the seat to look at the women in the back. "I believe there is a house about a half a mile from here, set in from the road, so we wouldn't be able to see the lights even without the storm. Shall I ...?"

"We'll all go, if you go," Clarisse said, promptly.

Charlotte nodded emphatically. "I don't want to stay HERE and freeze!"

"Neither one of you is wearing boots OR winter coats!" objected Shades. "You will DEFINITELY freeze if you venture out into the storm!

"We both have spring coats," Clarisse said. "At least we aren't just wearing short sleeved dresses!"

"In this weather, you need winter wool coats! You wouldn't survive the walk, your Majesty!" Shades said. "Tell them, Joe!"

"I believe you, Shades, and I could tell them the same ... but they won't believe me either." Joseph correctly read the mutinous look on their faces and militant look in both women's eyes when he glanced back at them.

"Maybe there's not MUCH snow ..." Charlotte said hopefully. "I've heard that often in the mountains the quantity isn't as bad as the wind which blows it around and makes it seem a lot worse than it is!"

"Recycling at its best," muttered Joseph.

After another half hour of arguing while the car grew colder and colder, Clarisse settled matters by opening her door and stepping out into the storm. Naturally Charlotte followed her, both catching their breath at the sharp chill of the wind and wincing as the snow slid into their shoes. The men were instantly at their sides, helping them up the sharp grade to the road. Clarisse didn't even want to think about how far down the mountain the car could have plunged, so she was rather glad she could see nothing further than about a foot. Once they gained the road, Joseph followed the edge in an effort to stay on track, trying to tramp a path so the women could avoid some of the snow going in their shoes. Clarisse held on to his waist and bent her head to keep the sleet from being driven into her eyes. Charlotte's hands were clutching the queen's waist, and Shades brought up the rear close on Charlotte's heels.

As they made their way slowly and painfully down the road, Clarisse wished futilely that her coat had a hood on it. Queens, of course, were not to WEAR hoods since, when they were out in public, people wanted to be able to see them. Still, the ice pellets mingled with snowflakes which soon covered her bare head were melting and trickling down her neck. In moments, her feet were frozen and as she plodded along, they began to feel like blocks on the end of her legs. She began counting her steps, knowing that 5,280 feet was a half mile. Of course, she had no way of knowing whether or not the shuffling movements she was managing would qualify as a foot in distance anyway. She wondered how Joseph could possibly see to lead them anywhere, when she couldn't even keep her eyes open against the weather. Then extraneous thought ceased as she put all her energy into putting one foot in front of the other. All too soon, her entire body was numb, and she could feel nothing and her brain wasn't really functioning. She bent forward and put her face on Joseph's back, closing her eyes and sliding her arms even further around his waist. She barely felt his hands covering hers, and couldn't hear his encouraging words shouted back at her. Clarisse knew that Charlotte was doing the same to her as she was doing to Joseph, but the older woman could no longer feel anyone at her back.

It seemed as if they had been travelling this way forever. The world had receded to just a few inches. Clarisse rubbed her face hard on Joseph's back to try to get the feeling back into her nose and chin, but it didn't help. Suddenly, blissfully, the wind and snow stopped, and so did Joseph. Clarisse blinked. It took a few minutes before she could push slightly away from Joseph and look around. They were inside ... a barn! A very small, one-roomed barn, it appeared. She could still hear the wind shrieking around the structure, and the pellets of ice and snow hitting the roof and drifting through the walls, but they were out of the main fury of the storm. She blinked again. They were sharing the tiny area with a very large cow and countless chickens.

Shakily, Clarisse released her hold on Joseph's waist as he twisted around in her arms and peered intently at her. "Your Majesty, are you all right?" he asked urgently.

Clarisse felt Charlotte push away from her back, but both women were beginning to shiver violently, and it seemed that neither could speak.

"Shades!" Joseph barked. "Get Charlotte's shoes and stockings off and start rubbing her feet and hands to warm them up. It looks like a dry area in the straw in that corner over there." As he was speaking, he was bending down and lifting Clarisse's feet one at a time to remove her shoes. Then he stood up and looked at her again. "Can you take off your stockings or shall I?"

Clarisse couldn't move. Swearing under his breath, Joseph bent again and starting pulling the nylons down from her knees. Shades had managed to get Charlotte over to the small heap of clean straw and had divested her of her pantyhose and shoes and was briskly rubbing her feet, then forcing her to sit cross-legged to warm her own feet while he rubbed her hands for a few moments. When Clarisse's legs were bare, Joseph carried her over to the same area and placed her gently beside Charlotte. He began working on her hands and feet, and Clarisse winced as the blood began to flow sluggishly through her extremities again, causing sharp pain to radiate through her body.

Charlotte tried to stifle her moans as life came back to her frozen limbs, and Joseph renewed his efforts with Clarisse. "Your Majesty? Say something!"

Teeth chattering violently, Clarisse glared at Joseph as she rubbed her hands together hard. "I'm too damn cold!" she gritted out.

Undaunted, he glared back at her. "If you hadn't been so damn stubborn and insistent on coming with us, you wouldn't have frostbite!"

Shades coughed to cover his chuckles. He threw off his coat, then managed to get Charlotte out of her wet one, and slung his over her shoulders. "Here," he said roughly. "This'll help warm you up. It's dry inside, at least."

"Thanks, Shades," Charlotte whispered as she pulled the coat tightly around her. She looked over at Clarisse. "Your majesty?"

Clarisse closed her eyes for a moment and tried to gather her fast-eroding control about her again. Then she opened her eyes and tried to smile through quivering lips. "I'm fine. Or I will be, soon."

Joseph helped her take off her wet coat, and placed his thicker one about her shoulders. "Here," his voice was gruff. "I can't do any less than Shades is doing, can I?"

"Thank you," Clarisse's voice was thready. She wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. She was exhausted.

"Don't sleep!" Joseph warned her. "You have to stay awake."

Wanting to pout, Clarisse forced her eyes wide open. Even her eyelids ached from the beating they had received from the sleet. "Yes, sir." she muttered obediently.

Charlotte leaned back in the straw as Shades bent to his task of massaging her feet again, and she said fervently, "I could get used to this!"

"Don't," Shades advised her, dryly. "At least, don't get used to ME doing it!"

"Aww," she complained, laughing slightly.

Joseph, still rubbing Clarisse's feet briskly, spoke without looking up. "Shades? You've got boots on, right?"

"Yes, sir," Shades replied.

"So do I. We'd better take off our socks and put them on the women's feet ... they're dry and will keep their feet warm. I have two pairs of socks on, actually. How about you?"

Shades shook his head. "Only one," he said, rather dolefully.

"Well, the boots should do enough for you, I hope." Joseph said.

In moments, both Charlotte and Clarisse were sighing happily with the bliss of having warm socks drawn over their cold feet. Sitting in the straw with her gray work-socked feet sticking out in front of her, Clarisse smiled and struck a theatrical pose. "A new fashion statement for the crown, wouldn't you say?"

"At least you're dry and warm. I would hate to be held accountable for letting the queen of Genovia freeze to death!" Joseph said. "Or losing her feet to frostbite."

Shades put his arm around Charlotte, leaned closer and whispered into her ear, "This could well be my dream come true! We could have an orgy to warm up!"

Charlotte choked on her chuckle, and shot him a scandalized look.

Joseph mildly asked, "Have you any suggestions to share with us, Shades? Possibly something to do with warming up?"

"Uhh, no." Shades stammered uncomfortably.

"Perhaps it would interest you to know that I am proficient at lip reading?" was Joseph's next comment.

"Really?" Clarisse asked, turning to Joseph in surprise, thereby missing Shades' horrified expression and Charlotte's embarrassed flush.

"Your majesty, I have many hidden talents," Joseph nodded his head gravely.

Charlotte reacted to Shades' pleading glance thrown at her, and began to fret. "What will the Parliament DO to us for losing the Queen? I mean, really losing her! No one knows where she is!"

Sitting up straight and tucking her bare legs elegantly under herself, Clarisse seemed to regain her queenly poise. "I'm not lost!" she said firmly. "I know exactly where I am. So do the three of you. We're in the mountains, in a barn, sharing it with ..."

Charlotte moaned. "Oh, we are in big trouble!"

Clarisse then said briskly, "To tell you the truth, I am much MORE concerned that Parliament will decide that if I can cause the disappearance of four people, including myself, and the country doesn't disintegrate in our absence, perhaps I am expendable, and they won't even wait until Mia turns twenty-one before crowning HER queen in my stead!"

"Like there's a chance of THAT!" Shades almost snorted, having recovered his equilibrium somewhat.

"Umm, I'm hungry," Charlotte ventured, changing the subject yet again before Shades managed to put his foot in his mouth once more.

Joseph grinned. "I can offer you a grand selection. Raw egg, if we're lucky enough to find an unbroken one ... and milk. Assuming someone knows how to milk Bossy here."

"You don't?" Shades asked.

Joseph raised his eyebrows. "Contrary to popular belief, I was not raised in a barn."

"Well, I know how to milk a cow theoretically, but I've never tried it," Charlotte said. "I just watched my uncle once. When I was about seven, which is many years ago now!"

"Only thirty." Clarisse's eyes were darting around the dim interior of the barn even while she was speaking. "You're still the baby of this motley crew, Charlotte." Charlotte's eyes were wide, and Clarisse smiled at her. "I DO read the resumes, and I can assure you, I know more than people think about those who surround me. Particularly, of course, those in close contact with me." Then she switched back to her original train of thought. "Another problem with milking is that I can't see anything to put milk in."

Shades walked around the barn, giving the cow a wide berth, past the chickens' food and water bowl, checking under the crude nests against one wall, kicking aside some dirty straw and checking behind some pieces of wood. A few chickens half-walked, half-flew behind him, cocking their heads curiously when he stopped to examine things. Clarisse found her lips twitching at the sight, and couldn't look at either Charlotte or Joseph for fear of exploding into very un-queenlike laughter.

"Well, I've found a bucket," Shades said at last, very dubiously, as he looked down at it, "but it's filthy. I'd say it has a better use than as a drinking vessel."

"My uncle squirted the milk directly into the cat's mouth while I was watching," Charlotte volunteered. "If we're thirsty enough, that might work."

The other three stared at her. She blushed and looked down. Shades shook his head slowly. "Naahh, we'll be lost, cold, and still thirsty because the milk will miss our mouths and wet and sticky because it would go all over us!"

"Details," Joseph finally said. "Let's try getting some milk." He went cautiously up to the cow. "Nice cow. Hmm, do you have to be on a certain side of the cow to milk it?"

"Beats me," Shades said.

"My uncle was on the right ... the passenger side." Charlotte said. Shades laughed at her, but she ignored him.

Joseph walked around the cow, then crouched on her right side, grunting a little. "This is NOT ideal for someone with knee replacements." He took hold of two teats. The cow looked around at him, curiously, then flicked her tail in his face. "Do I just pull?" he asked, when he had tried that and nothing had happened.

"I think you sort of grip, twist and pull all at the same time," Charlotte said.

Then the cow mooed, startling everyone. She moved sideways, bumping into Joseph who wobbled, then fell backward with a shout of dismay onto the wet, dirty floor, startling the chickens into squawking flight. He didn't even want to THINK about what was on that floor! The three others tried without success to smother their laughter. Grumpily, he got to his feet and stalked to the door. Opening it briefly and ignoring the cries of the others as the wind and snow whirled inside, he stuck his hands into the snowbank building by the door and scrubbed them clean. Then he pulled the door shut again. "It's almost dark," he announced unnecessarily. "Have you a match, Shades? There's a lantern here by the door."

"WHY would I need a match?" Shades inquired. "I don't smoke. Isn't there anything on that shelf to light the lantern with?"

Loudly lamenting that he had just washed his hands, Joseph nevertheless ran both hands over the dusty shelf, and triumphantly clutched a box of matches. It took a few matches, then finally the lantern wick caught and the faint, flickering flame lit up the small room amazingly well.

"Be careful where you put that," Clarisse cautioned. "I'd hate to burn down our shelter!"

"Where there's a barn with animals, there's a house," Joseph said, as he carefully hung the lantern back on the hook, checking to make sure it wouldn't fall off and was level. "I should go out to see if anyone's home. We'd be far more comfortable there."

"Not until the storm is over," Clarisse shook her head. "No one is leaving unless we all leave. Joseph, if you went out, got lost and didn't come back, I'd ..." she broke off.

"You'd what?" Joseph asked, interestedly.

Clarisse looked away from his intent gaze. "Never mind."

"I'D be appointed Head of Security!" Shades jumped in. "Off you go, Joe ...!"

"Don't be silly," Charlotte scolded him. "Why don't YOU try milking that cow, Shades?"

"Uhh, all right ..." Shades gingerly approached the cow, then jumped out of the way when she mooed loudly and kicked out at him. "I don't she likes me. Maybe you should try, Charlotte. I feel a sudden urge for raw egg instead of milk."

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Good grief. Well, I can't walk over there in socks, and my shoes won't fit over them, so I'll need your boots, too."

Shades sat down and pulled off his boots, handing them to her. "Just don't step in anything." he warned her. "They're new."

Charlotte looked around and found a low, three-legged stool which she carried over to the cow and sat on. She bit her lip, then put her head on the cow's side and leaned in, gripping two teats firmly. After much effort with nary a drop of milk to show for it, she sat back glumly. "Sorry. I can't do it. I know HOW it's supposed to be done, but I can't do it."

"Let me try," Clarisse spoke up.

"NO!" Joseph, Shades and Charlotte all burst out. Clarisse looked startled, then hurt.

"Your majesty, you are NOT a milkmaid, you are a queen," Joseph added.

"If anyone else heard you had tried to milk a cow ..." Shades began.

Clarisse stuck out her chin mutinously. "You are just afraid that I will be able to do it when you cannot!" she accused them.

Charlotte sighed, got up, and shuffled over to her. "Fine, your majesty. Here are Shades' boots," and she stepped out of them. Then she added, with a teasing look at Shades, "and be careful with them -- they're new!"

Clarisse put them on and stood up, tossing Joseph's coat back onto the clean straw. She made her way over to the cow and sat down on the stool Charlotte had vacated. "Am I supposed to put my head on the cow?" she inquired.

"My uncle always did. I think it was to keep the cow from crowding into you and pushing you over." Charlotte said.

Clarisse's amused gaze flickered over Joseph, then she turned her attention to the cow again. The cow turned her head to look back. "Shades," Clarisse ordered. "Hold her head."

Shades gulped, then moved to obey, only to stop at the edge of the clean straw. "Your majesty," he pointed out. "You're wearing my boots, and I've got bare feet, and they're getting cold enough without getting them wet, too."

"Oh, all right." Clarisse leaned into the cow, and her hands came up to the teats. Then the cow's tail flicked over her, making her jump. "Joseph! Please hold her tail!"

Joseph moved silently to obey, keeping out of range of the cow's kick should she decide to do so.

Clarisse took a deep breath, murmuring to herself, "Grip, twist and pull all at once", then tried. Nothing happened. She tried again. Then again. Then one last time, with all the effort she could muster. A thin, wavering trickle of milk rewarded her effort. "I did it!" she squealed.

"I'm ... impressed," Shades said in awe.

"Me, too," Charlotte's eyes were wide.

"Now what will we put it in?" asked Joseph practically.

"There's nothing here." Charlotte said, after a moment. There was another short silence, broken only by the clucking of the chickens. Then Charlotte spoke again, very quietly. "We could cup our hands, and maybe you could get some milk into them, your majesty."

"Please call me Clarisse, and I can try."

Charlotte took off the socks, saying she'd need them later, then picked her way over to crouch on the other side of the cow. She put her cupped hands underneath the cow's udder and Clarisse set her jaw and tried again to get some milk out. After a couple of attempts, again a small stream of milk came out.

Charlotte laughed as she tried to keep her hands under the wildly directed spray, then brought her hands to her mouth quickly and slurped up what she had managed to save. Then she made a face. "Ugh. I forgot the milk would be warm. Still, thank you, your ... umm, Clarisse." She looked very uncomfortable as she used her sovereign's given name.

"You're most welcome. Shades?"

Rather sheepishly, Shades took Charlotte's place, and held out his hands. He, too, caught some milk and drank it. "Thank you, your ma ... uhh, Clarisse," he amended at her sharp look. Then he retreated back to the clean straw pile to sit with Charlotte.

"Joseph?" Clarisse swivelled to look up at him.

"Thank you, but no. Warm milk? I was weaned long ago."

"Not as long ago as I was," Clarisse retorted. "Get up here, please. Even if YOU don't want any, I'd appreciate a bit, and I can't cup my hands AND milk at the same time."

"Just a minute." Again Joe opened the door and stuck his hands in the snow bank, then closed the door, shaking the snow off them. "Maybe having my hands ice-cold will help the milk taste better."

"Oh, really, Joseph!" Clarisse shook her head smiling, then, as he crouched beside her, she looked over at him. "Thank you for everything," she whispered, so low that neither Shades nor Charlotte could hear her.

Putting his cupped hands under the cow's udder, Joseph murmured back, "I'd do anything for you, Clarisse, my dear. You know that. You're putting a brave face on this. Now," and he raised his voice again, "let's see if we can get you something to drink."

It took longer this time, and Clarisse was straining by the time she had a little dribble in Joseph's hands. He raised them to her mouth, saying teasingly, "Your hands are just too soft, Clarisse. That's why you can't keep it up. You're not used to working with them." Privately he thought that her hands looked too elegant, graceful and refined to do such menial work, but in reality, they were strong as well as tender. He had seen her touching her roses, he had felt her gentle touch on his cheek, now he had seen her milk a cow.

Clarisse drank from his hands, then licked the last few drops from his palms, letting her tongue linger there as she raised her eyes to his. She sensed that he had stopped breathing, but he shot a quick glance over to make sure their movements were hidden from Shades and Charlotte by the cow's body. His fingers traced lightly over her lips, and he bent forward ... then the cow lowed again, and Joseph jumped and lost his balance once more. Clarisse caught at him, but was thrown off the stool herself by Joseph's impetus. Her laugh pealed out and she lay in the muck beside Joseph, unable to get up for laughing.

"Your majesty!" Charlotte cried out in horror, running over to Clarisse.

"Charlotte, my socks!" Shades shouted, then groaned when Charlotte looked guiltily back at him as she stood in a puddle.

Between them, Joseph and Charlotte helped Clarisse to her feet and tried without success to clean her back. "You'll have to take off your top, Clarisse," Joseph said, finally, seeing that the cold, wet material was clinging to her back and she was beginning to shiver again.

Casting him a look of horror, Clarisse ran her fingers through her hair and grimaced at the feel of it. "I'll be fine," she said.

Charlotte had stripped off Shades' socks and was vainly trying to wring them out and wipe off some of the muck with clean straw. Then she placed them out on the clean straw beside the ladies' wet coats, after shooing some of the chickens away.

Sighing heavily, Joseph first took off his socks and threw them to Charlotte who put them on quickly. Then Joseph took off his jacket then stripped off his light turtleneck. Putting his jacket back on, he held out the turtleneck sweater to Clarisse. "You'd better be quick about it. We'll turn around. If you don't do it, we will do it for you."

Her eyes grew icy. "I am not accustomed to being given orders ..."

"Your majesty, PLEASE," begged Charlotte. "Think of the trouble we will be in if, when we finally get out of here, you are suffering from a cold because of wet clothes!"

Clarisse opened her mouth to argue, then thought better of it. "Very well. Thank you," she said, rather grudgingly, to Joseph as she took his sweater. The others turned away and, as quickly as she could with fingers already growing stiff from the cold, she changed tops. "A-all right," she said, beginning to shiver even harder.

When the others turned back around, Clarisse noticed that Charlotte's lips looked blue, and that she was shivering violently as well. Clarisse stepped up to her and put her arms around the younger woman. "Charlotte?" she whispered, "I just want you to know that I am really not trying to be difficult ..."

"Oh, y-your majesty ..." Charlotte had tears in her eyes as she clung to Clarisse, trying valiantly to restrain her shivers. "I'm just t-trying to be as b-brave as y-you are!"

Joseph stepped up. "Shades? Take Charlotte in your arms to warm her, I'll hold the queen. We're obviously not going anywhere soon, so we may as well get as comfortable as we can for the night." The lantern began flickering madly again, and Joseph's eyes went to it. Then he added heavily, "And it appears that we're running out of oil for the lamp, so hop to it! We'd better all snuggle as close as possible to conserve what little warmth we have ..."

In moments they were all burrowing into the clean straw, Shades holding Charlotte close, and Clarisse in Joseph's arms next to Charlotte. They threw the women's damp coats over top of the straw on their legs to keep the wind off. For a moment the only sound was the wind and the sleet shaking the barn, the chattering of teeth and the occasional cluckings of the chickens as they settled for the night. Then the lantern sputtered out, and it was dark. Charlotte squeaked a little, and Clarisse's hand went out to cover hers reassuringly for an instant before tucking it under her own arm again for warmth.

With his one arm under Clarisse, .Joseph slid his free hand down the length of her arm, entwining his fingers through hers. Shifting their connected hands to her hip, he gently urged her back closer to him. Now her buttocks were cradled rather intimately with his hips, and the connection came with a strong jolt, sending lightning flashes streaking through Clarisse's body. What had begun as innocent warming suddenly turned unexpectedly and pleasantly hot for her! Her voice faltered as she said, "This is ... ahh ... an unusual p-position for us all to be in ..."

"Quite," Joseph's voice was clipped. "Just get warm before trying to talk."

Clarisse was tense at first in his embrace, but as his warmth began to seep through her, she gradually relaxed. Aside from dancing, she had not been this close to anyone except Rupert. In America, she had finally SEEN Joseph as a man, a friend, a companion. Before that, he had been her very efficient Head of Security, but until Rupert's death, she had never really looked at Joseph or thought about him in any way other than that of his job. In San Francisco, he had become much closer to her, offering his support and assistance in any way she saw fit to use him. It was Joseph who, through a quiet though heartfelt comment, had convinced her to put aside her mourning clothes and begin to dress again in the light colours she loved. It was Joseph who, with the touch of his hands as they danced that first time after Mia's first lesson, had begun the process of bringing her body out of the deep freeze it had been in since long before Rupert's death. And, of course, Clarisse still credited Joseph with the miraculous feat of getting Mia to the ball in time to prevent Clarisse from announcing that the young girl had renounced the crown of Genovia.

Since that time in America, Clarisse had had to fight her own desires to be closer still to this man. She knew he LIKED her, of course, that much was obvious. But she had no way of knowing exactly how MUCH he liked her, and quite frankly she had no intentions of trying to find out. She was the queen. She had no right to think of herself when her country needed her. It was her duty to put Genovia before any possible emotions she might secretly harbour in her heart. Now here she was, mostly dry and warm and curled up in Joseph's arms, trying to continue breathing evenly as though his proximity was not causing her hormones to riot. After all, she was the queen of Genovia, a widow, a grandmother! She should be long past such feelings. Yet she was hard pressed to remember to draw one breath after another and, more importantly, not to turn in his arms to lean in and taste his lips ...

Determinedly, she spoke lightly, to cover her stirring senses. "Now is when I could use a travel pillow. Make a note of that, Charlotte, please. From now on, all vehicles will be equipped with pillows and blankets, conveniently placed in backpacks which can be accessed when necessary."

"Port-a-potties would be nice, too," Charlotte muttered.

Shades laughed. "Well, we DO have that filthy bucket we can use in a pinch!" he teased her.

"While we're compiling a list of survival items, we need to add a battery-operated tea kettle, a stash of tea and some china cups. I DO miss my tea!" Clarisse added mischievously.

"A mini-generator would be nice," Joseph joined in the fun. "With a heater attached. And definitely some flashlights!"

"Sleeping bags?" Shades offered. "Extra socks and boots?"

"Emergency rations," Charlotte chuckled, getting into the light-hearted mode set by the queen.

"Like chocolate bars for you," finished Shades. "Steak. Omelets. Fried chicken. ANYTHING but ... warm milk!"

They all chuckled at that. Then Clarisse spoke hesitantly, still trying to ignore the hum of the blood in her veins at Joseph's nearness. "I realize it is none of my business, but I am curious. Why Shades? Well, I suppose that IS obvious, but why do you not use your given name?"

Shades grunted and his voice sounded muffled as he answered, "It's the same as my father's. I didn't want to be known as Junior. Now I'm used to it."

"I see. So everyone calls you that?"

"Yes, your majesty." Then he made a disgusted noise. "I'm sorry, I know you told us to call you Clarisse, but, well, I just can't."

"That's all right," Clarisse said softly, and a little sadly. "There aren't too many people who feel comfortable using my name. I understand that, besides being a hazard of my position, it is also something that becomes more common the older one gets. There are fewer and fewer people to whom the elderly are known by their first names. It can get ... lonely ... at times, though."

"Your majesty!" Charlotte sat up. "I can't use Clarisse either, but it most certainly is NOT because I think of you as elderly!"

"Charlotte, get back here, you're making me cold, sitting up like that!" complained Shades good-naturedly, pulling the younger woman back down into his embrace. "But she's right, your majesty. I don't think anyone in Genovia could possibly refer to you as 'elderly'! That's ludicrous!"

"Thank you, but compared to you both ... well, I could be your mother!"

"You could not be mine ..." Joseph murmured in her ear, making Clarisse shiver deliciously. His hand untangled itself from hers, and smoothed sensuously over her hip again. "And I thank God daily for that."

Her breath caught as his fingertips skimmed over her skin, gliding smoothly up under her top, stroking upward. The heat and desire she felt was more heady than any champagne she had ever tried. His thumb traced her rib, and barely skimmed over the bottom curve of her breast. Clarisse cautiously let out a shuddering breath, her very bones dissolving. Then he took another sweep with his thumb, a little higher but not quite touching her nipple, and she had to concentrate to keep breathing. It was unnerving, not to mention erotic, how his touch made her feel! She had never felt this way with Rupert, not even in the beginning when they were trying to learn to love each other. Unable to bear the tension any longer, she put her hand over his to stop his enticing touch, even as she yearned with all her being to turn into his embrace, to love him and have him love her as she had dreamed ...

Undaunted, his hand smoothed back down to her hip, once more capturing her hand. He traced circles on the palm of her hand, until she clenched her fingers around his, tremors beginning to shudder through her. "It's all right, Clarisse, my dear," he whispered. Then his voice was a little louder, pitched to be heard over the storm and the animal sounds in the barn. "It will be all right in the morning, you'll see. Just go to sleep ..."

In the morning, Clarisse became aware first of being surrounded by the warmth of love. It had been so long, she thought drowsily, since she had awakened in a man's arms ... a man's arms! Her eyes flew open. She was lying in Joseph's arms, her head on his chest which was moving rhythmically in time with his slow, deep breathing. He WAS still asleep, was he not? Slowly she tilted her head back to see, and she studied his face intently. Without volition, her hand moved up to lightly touch his cheek, then slip over his lips. As her fingertips traced the relaxed line of his lips, she was startled when he kissed her fingers lightly. Her eyes flew to his, seeing that he was eying her tenderly, and she correctly read the love she saw in them. Dropping her gaze, knowing that loving another or being loved was not an option while she was the queen, she carefully rolled over away from his scrutiny so that he was now warming her back.

Feeling his body's instant response to her movements though, Clarisse couldn't resist speaking the quote which popped into her head at that moment. She shamelessly tilted her head to whisper teasingly to him, "'Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?'"

His arm tightened involuntarily around her and he drew her closer with a faint growl. "If we were alone, Clarisse, you would not have to ask!" he murmured in her ear.

Clarisse tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he held her so tightly she couldn't move. Then her glance flew over to Shades and Charlotte, hoping they were not aware of the interplay. The two were sound asleep still, spooned together as she and Joseph were, Shades' arm protectively over Charlotte. Clarisse realized that they were almost in a nest of the straw, just as she and Joseph were. It had been surprisingly warm, although now she was noticing the prickling of the straw on her bare legs.

Charlotte stirred at that point. She opened her eyes and stared blankly at Clarisse through the dim light. Blinking a few times as she found her bearings, Charlotte pushed herself upright with a gasp, dragging her hand through her hair as she looked around the barn. "Oh! Oh, I had thought maybe it was all a bad dream!" she moaned.

Shades' eyes opened, too. "It's still storming out." he mumbled sleepily. "Lie down, Charlotte."

Charlotte bit her lip. "I would, but, well, I think I need to ..."

"Thank goodness someone ELSE needs to!" Shades chuckled as he completely woke up and stretched a little. "I thought I was the only one, and was afraid to be the first one to move. Knowing Charlotte, she'd have kicked me for waking her up!"

Clarisse managed finally to extricate herself from Joseph's embrace and sat up. "I'm first, since I'm the oldest, and I don't just THINK I need to, I KNOW I need to!"

"By all means, age before beauty, your Majesty," Joseph murmured, a wicked grin on his face.

Clarisse swatted him as she pushed to her feet. "I'm only older by a few months, Joseph, dear." She staggered a bit on the straw, then groaned as she stretched. "Grateful though I am for the straw nests we slept in, I DO think you and Shades might have plucked some of the chickens so Charlotte and I could have had a feather bed!"

"Damn chickens," muttered Shades. "Wish I HAD plucked 'em all. One pecked me in the night, I SWEAR! Unless it was Charlotte," he added with a grin.

"Dream on," retorted Charlotte. "Shades, look alive! Where's the bucket we're going to use?"

"Over there." he waved towards the far corner. "But, well, there's nothing to, well, hide ..."

"I am past being embarrassed and shy," Clarisse announced as she made her way over to the indicated corner. "Just close your eyes, all of you, and roll over the other way."

Obediently, they did, and soon Clarisse was sighing with relief. Glad she had some tissue in her pocket, she stood up and returned to the others. When they were all finished, they looked at each other. "Now what?" Shades asked, finally. "The storm is still quite bad. I'm REALLY hungry now ... so hungry that the dirty egg I found on my sock over there is looking like it might be breakfast ... raw."

Charlotte and Clarisse both shuddered. Joseph was about to speak when suddenly the door slammed open and a large man blew in along with the fierce wind and swirling snow. He dropped the pail he carried with a clatter on the floor, stamped his feet to rid them of the snow and briskly rubbed his hands, then blinked when he caught sight of the four strangers in his barn.

It was only moments before introductions were performed, explanations and apologies (on the part of Monsieur Duvall) for not being aware that they had taken refuge in his barn were given. He was sorry he had milked the cow early yesterday afternoon, and Shades, ignoring the incredulous stares of the other three, gravely said he had wondered when the cow had so little milk to give them last night. Despite her bedraggled appearance, Clarisse had been instantly recognized, of course, and had resumed her queenly demeanor so swiftly and successfully that Shades and Charlotte both found themselves wondering if they had dreamt the preceding hours. Only Joseph understood, when her eyes met his for a split second, that Clarisse felt it her duty to the people of her country to act and be perceived as practically perfect and impeccable in every way. She was once again Clarisse Renaldi, Queen of Genovia ... graciousness personified. Her own passion for life was buried deeply under her elegant, refined veneer and her love for her country superceded all else, even her own personal desires. Joseph instinctively knew that there was no point speaking with her now about furthering their relationship the way he had longed for it to be. Perhaps there would be a time in the future. He sincerely hoped it would not be a too distant future.

After quickly doing up the chores, and watching Monsieur Duvall strip the cow of her milk in a brief ten minutes, the large farmer ushered them to his home across the vast yard, using a rope to guide him through the storm which had already filled in his footsteps. After Charlotte and Clarisse donned their damp coats and tried to put their shoes on over the men's socks without success, Shades and Joseph didn't pay any attention to the women's protests, they merely picked them up and carried them to the house. Once they were safely inside, Madame Duvall clucked over their misfortune, reminding Clarisse rather startlingly of one of the hens in the barn. After Joseph had used the telephone and contacted the palace with news of their whereabouts, the petite woman bustled about getting warm clothes for them all, built up the fire and cooked them a large breakfast.

Monsieur Duvall, flattered that the queen had actually taken refuge in his barn and had complimented him on such a fine cow and chickens, insisted on helping Joseph and Shades get the limousine out of the ditch when the storm finally began to die down in the late afternoon. Through the long morning, Charlotte and Clarisse made friends with the couple's dog, a standard poodle. Madame Duvall mentioned that they bred the poodle regularly, and Joseph's ears perked up. Clarisse knew he was planning something when he had a quick conversation with the Duvalls later, but she wouldn't pry into his affairs. When the road was judged passable, Monsieur Duvall drove ahead of them to break trail until they reached the lower altitudes of the mountains and the snow gave way to bare ground. There the four were met by carloads of anxious people as well as the press. The prime minister begged Clarisse to forgive him for not having had his driver turn around and come back for her, and was consoled when she assured him that that had not been an option she had even considered.

"Joseph and Shades took care of us," she added truthfully. "We are indeed fortunate to have them on our security team."

"May I quote you on that, your Majesty?" an intrepid reporter, Elsie Kentworthy, asked.

"If necessary," was the cool answer, then Clarisse graciously thanked Monsieur Duvall once again for his hospitality. No one revealed that the four had actually stayed in his barn overnight.

After returning to the palace, Clarisse arranged to have Charlotte and Shades deliver a thank you gift for the Duvalls, then put the entire episode out of her mind, for the most part. However much she tried to forget her reactions to being in Joseph's arms, however, the memories would sneak up on her at odd intervals throughout the coming year. Clarisse never mentioned that time they had been snowbound to anyone again, but she did notice that Shades and Charlotte appeared to be more intimate after their hours in the Duvall's barn. That came as no great surprise to her, as Clarisse felt that she and Joseph had a deeper understanding of each other as well and were closer than they had been before. All who paid heed to Clarisse's interactions with those around her also became aware that the bond between Charlotte and Clarisse had been greatly enhanced over this period.

Clarisse was thrilled to receive a poodle puppy that year for Christmas, and knew that it was at Joseph's instigation although the card said Maurice had been sent by the Duvalls. The summer that Princess Mia moved to Genovia after graduating from college, Monsieur Tiny Duvall inadvertently perpetrated a minor crisis when bringing his gift to the queen's grand-daughter. He had hoped she would be pleased, and he also had hoped she liked omelets, because he was giving her his favourite chicken. Charlotte and Shades presented Joseph and Clarisse with a feather bed as a wedding gift, a favour returned the following year when Shades and Charlotte were wed. Joseph had also thoughtfully added a chamber pot to the gift, an item which caused both the bride and groom to burst into peals of laughter. No one else was ever enlightened as to the joke, however much Mia teased or commanded. The time they had been snowbound in the Duvall's barn remained a private source of laughter and fond memories for the four participants and their unwitting hosts as long as they lived.