Fanfic: Leaving on a Jet Plane
Number 8 of 10 complete.
Title:Leaving on a Jet Plane
Rating: T
Fandom: Princess Diaries
Movie/Quote: Titanic (#83)
“That's the one good thing about Paris: there's a lot of girls willing to take their clothes off.”
Summary: Planning a honeymoon isn't always easy.
Disclaimer:Princess Diaries belongs to Meg Cabot & Disney. Fic title taken from the song written by John Denver. No infringement is intended.
~*~*~*~
He had dragged her away from the umpteenth planning meeting of the day with the excuse that there were important security matters that needed her attention. Her protests that there was a limited time until Mia's coronation fell on deaf ears as he insisted it was a matter of National Security. Upon reaching their rooms, Joseph had backed her against the bedroom door, stripped her naked in seconds, tossed her to the bed and began to demonstrate just how urgent his need was.
“All of these years as Queen, and I had no idea National Security could be so much fun,” she said, her voice still husky with passion as she lay naked in his arms, recovering after their frantic encounter.
“The country can't have an overworked and overstressed Queen. What if a crisis should happen? You wouldn't be at your best. As your head of security, it's my duty to make sure you are always in peak condition to rule.”
“As long as Shades doesn't use a similar approach with Mia, I won't complain. After all, you will only be my head of security for three more days.”
“And you will no longer be Queen.” He paused, hesitating before voicing his next thought. “As sad as it will be to watch an era come to an end, I can only see it as a wonderful opportunity for the two of us.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“An opportunity for some time alone. Just the two of us. I'll be retired, and Mia has already informed me that one of her first acts as Queen will be to order you to take a vacation. So, Clarisse, where would you like to go on your honeymoon?”
It was silly, she knew, and more appropriate to the behavior of a teen-aged girl than a grandmother, but she didn't want to tell him. He was the only person she'd known who'd known her as well, if not better, than she knew herself. For such a momentous occasion, she wanted him to know her well enough to make things perfect without requiring her direction. But she wouldn't allow herself to admit that, so instead she tried some misdirection.
“I've spent most of my life traveling from one place to another. It really doesn't matter to me. Wherever you are will be more than enough.”
She had sounded cheerful enough, but the slight tension in her body as she spoke gave a different meaning than her light words. She wasn't surprised when Joseph decided to push a little further.
“Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?” he teased. “Are you sure you're feeling alright? Because the Clarisse I know and love has an opinion on everything.”
“Joseph, I leave the decision totally up to you.”
She thought she had sounded very confident, but the tiny waiver in her voice signified that the habits of a lifetime couldn't be tossed aside so lightly. When Joseph spoke again, it was clear he had decided that the direct approach wouldn't work.
“Well, I was thinking that London would be lovely.”
Her nose crinkled in disapproval. “It's so cold and rainy this time of year.”
“All the better to spend inside in front of a roaring fire,” he suggested. Seeing she hadn't been convinced, he tried again. “A cruise around the Mediterranean on the royal yacht. Just the two of us, as private as can be.”
“Only if you want a seasick bride.” She gave him a quizzical glance. “You know I don't like boats.”
“An African Safari? We could arrange to visit Pierre... I'm sure he'd love to see his mother again.”
“I'm sure being trampled by an elephant or mauled by a lion will be a wonderful way to start our life together,” she said, getting more and more frustrated with every suggestion. “Really, Joseph, can't you think of anything suitable?”
“How about Paris? It is the city of romance, after all. Le Champs Elysee, La Tour Eiffel, La Moulin Rouge...”
“That's the one good thing about Paris: there's a lot of girls willing to take their clothes off.”
“Would you be one of them?” he teased.
“Oh, honestly!” As she shifted her position in his arms, she spied the clock on the bedside table out of the corner of her eye. She shrugged off his arm that had been loosely wrapped around her and climbed out of bed. Looking around the room to discover where he had flung her bra and panties during their earlier heated encounter, she continued, “I love you very much, but I really don't have time for this. I'll plan the coronation and you plan the honeymoon. I have every confidence that you know my likes and dislikes well enough to make it a wonderful way to mark the start of our marriage. And look at it this way,” she added as she smoothed her undergarments into place and headed into the walk-in closet, “you can't possibly do a worse job than Rupert did.”
She knew he hadn't started working for the palace until after Pierre had been born, so there was a chance he didn't know the story, but given how few secrets there were in the Security office, she doubted it. So she was surprised, when, as she was exiting the closet, wrapped in a soft blue jersey dress that clung to her curves in all the right places and brought out the sparkle in her brilliant blue eyes, he said, “I give up. Where did Rupert choose?”
“St. Petersburg.”
“Russia?”
She nodded. “In the middle of winter.” She rolled her eyes at the memory, before adding, “He didn't anticipate finding his bride wrapped head-to-toe in long underwear to keep from freezing to death and resisting any suggestions for taking them off. Perhaps because it was an arranged marriage, he had no idea how stubborn I can be when I set my mind to it.”
“Not the wedding night he was expecting, hmmm?” At his barks of laughter, she couldn't help but laugh along.
“As I said, I'm sure you can do better.”
With that challenge, she swept from the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He would do better, she knew. This time she had married for love, and he would do everything in his power to make their marriage live up to the dream she had longed for. She smiled as she heard him speak into the phone as she left the room.
“Genovia Airport, please,” he told the operator, “I need to speak to the Captain of Genovia One.”
Title:Leaving on a Jet Plane
Rating: T
Fandom: Princess Diaries
Movie/Quote: Titanic (#83)
“That's the one good thing about Paris: there's a lot of girls willing to take their clothes off.”
Summary: Planning a honeymoon isn't always easy.
Disclaimer:Princess Diaries belongs to Meg Cabot & Disney. Fic title taken from the song written by John Denver. No infringement is intended.
~*~*~*~
He had dragged her away from the umpteenth planning meeting of the day with the excuse that there were important security matters that needed her attention. Her protests that there was a limited time until Mia's coronation fell on deaf ears as he insisted it was a matter of National Security. Upon reaching their rooms, Joseph had backed her against the bedroom door, stripped her naked in seconds, tossed her to the bed and began to demonstrate just how urgent his need was.
“All of these years as Queen, and I had no idea National Security could be so much fun,” she said, her voice still husky with passion as she lay naked in his arms, recovering after their frantic encounter.
“The country can't have an overworked and overstressed Queen. What if a crisis should happen? You wouldn't be at your best. As your head of security, it's my duty to make sure you are always in peak condition to rule.”
“As long as Shades doesn't use a similar approach with Mia, I won't complain. After all, you will only be my head of security for three more days.”
“And you will no longer be Queen.” He paused, hesitating before voicing his next thought. “As sad as it will be to watch an era come to an end, I can only see it as a wonderful opportunity for the two of us.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“An opportunity for some time alone. Just the two of us. I'll be retired, and Mia has already informed me that one of her first acts as Queen will be to order you to take a vacation. So, Clarisse, where would you like to go on your honeymoon?”
It was silly, she knew, and more appropriate to the behavior of a teen-aged girl than a grandmother, but she didn't want to tell him. He was the only person she'd known who'd known her as well, if not better, than she knew herself. For such a momentous occasion, she wanted him to know her well enough to make things perfect without requiring her direction. But she wouldn't allow herself to admit that, so instead she tried some misdirection.
“I've spent most of my life traveling from one place to another. It really doesn't matter to me. Wherever you are will be more than enough.”
She had sounded cheerful enough, but the slight tension in her body as she spoke gave a different meaning than her light words. She wasn't surprised when Joseph decided to push a little further.
“Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?” he teased. “Are you sure you're feeling alright? Because the Clarisse I know and love has an opinion on everything.”
“Joseph, I leave the decision totally up to you.”
She thought she had sounded very confident, but the tiny waiver in her voice signified that the habits of a lifetime couldn't be tossed aside so lightly. When Joseph spoke again, it was clear he had decided that the direct approach wouldn't work.
“Well, I was thinking that London would be lovely.”
Her nose crinkled in disapproval. “It's so cold and rainy this time of year.”
“All the better to spend inside in front of a roaring fire,” he suggested. Seeing she hadn't been convinced, he tried again. “A cruise around the Mediterranean on the royal yacht. Just the two of us, as private as can be.”
“Only if you want a seasick bride.” She gave him a quizzical glance. “You know I don't like boats.”
“An African Safari? We could arrange to visit Pierre... I'm sure he'd love to see his mother again.”
“I'm sure being trampled by an elephant or mauled by a lion will be a wonderful way to start our life together,” she said, getting more and more frustrated with every suggestion. “Really, Joseph, can't you think of anything suitable?”
“How about Paris? It is the city of romance, after all. Le Champs Elysee, La Tour Eiffel, La Moulin Rouge...”
“That's the one good thing about Paris: there's a lot of girls willing to take their clothes off.”
“Would you be one of them?” he teased.
“Oh, honestly!” As she shifted her position in his arms, she spied the clock on the bedside table out of the corner of her eye. She shrugged off his arm that had been loosely wrapped around her and climbed out of bed. Looking around the room to discover where he had flung her bra and panties during their earlier heated encounter, she continued, “I love you very much, but I really don't have time for this. I'll plan the coronation and you plan the honeymoon. I have every confidence that you know my likes and dislikes well enough to make it a wonderful way to mark the start of our marriage. And look at it this way,” she added as she smoothed her undergarments into place and headed into the walk-in closet, “you can't possibly do a worse job than Rupert did.”
She knew he hadn't started working for the palace until after Pierre had been born, so there was a chance he didn't know the story, but given how few secrets there were in the Security office, she doubted it. So she was surprised, when, as she was exiting the closet, wrapped in a soft blue jersey dress that clung to her curves in all the right places and brought out the sparkle in her brilliant blue eyes, he said, “I give up. Where did Rupert choose?”
“St. Petersburg.”
“Russia?”
She nodded. “In the middle of winter.” She rolled her eyes at the memory, before adding, “He didn't anticipate finding his bride wrapped head-to-toe in long underwear to keep from freezing to death and resisting any suggestions for taking them off. Perhaps because it was an arranged marriage, he had no idea how stubborn I can be when I set my mind to it.”
“Not the wedding night he was expecting, hmmm?” At his barks of laughter, she couldn't help but laugh along.
“As I said, I'm sure you can do better.”
With that challenge, she swept from the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He would do better, she knew. This time she had married for love, and he would do everything in his power to make their marriage live up to the dream she had longed for. She smiled as she heard him speak into the phone as she left the room.
“Genovia Airport, please,” he told the operator, “I need to speak to the Captain of Genovia One.”