A/N: Once again…thank you to all who read this and my other stories, and especially to all the reviewers. I think it's time to reiterate the disclaimer: Fantasy Island and Mr. Roarke are the property of Sony Pictures Corporation and the creations of Gene Levitt, Leonard Goldberg and the late Aaron Spelling. Thank you, Mr. Spelling, for producing this TV show that was such a big part of my high-school years and from which I still get so much enjoyment…


§ § § -- January 23, 1998

It had taken some doing, but most of Leslie's friends had managed to make it to lunch at a sandwich shop in town that Friday. To be sure, they were accompanied by several children, but the shop had a small supervised play area where kids could expend their energies while their mothers got a break. So Brianna Harding and Noelle Tokita, both almost four, and Alexander Tokita, almost six, were playing with various toys there while ten-month-old Craig Omamara and nine-month-old Cristina Ordoñez crawled after balls that the supervising employee rolled across mats for them. The children's mothers, Lauren Knight, and Leslie sat around a table in the largest booth in the shop.

They'd chatted about the kids for awhile, teased Lauren about when she was going to have a baby, then turned to Leslie and asked about the upcoming weekend. Leslie shrugged. "Nothing really remarkable," she said. "No time travel or potions or anything like that. Just some run-of-the-mill stuff. Of course, we do have that film crew shooting around here, so maybe it's just as well."

"What film crew?" Lauren asked.

"It's for Devin Reilley's new movie, Beneath a Tropical Moon," Myeko put in with an eager look. "I get to interview him tomorrow, and I can't wait!"

Maureen laughed. "Some cushy job you've got, Myeko Sensei," she said. "And I guess you're going to try to make a good impression on him, huh? After all, he was voted Bachelor of the Year last year."

"He's a movie star—he'd never notice the likes of me. I'm just hoping he'll give me his autograph," Myeko said. "I'm more worried about bumping into Clark there, since he's probably in charge of providing security." The others looked at each other surreptitiously. The previous spring, Sheriff Clark Mokuleia had split up with Myeko in a rather emotional episode, and she still flinched whenever there was any prospect of her seeing him. When news had reached the island in November that Toki had married his Hawaiian girlfriend, it had made Myeko almost completely distrustful of men, even though Toki's child-support checks now came with faithful regularity.

"Only two more years and he'll have to run for sheriff again," Camille said in what was clearly meant to be a comforting voice. "Maybe somebody'll unseat him and he'll have to move off-island."

"Don't get my hopes up," Myeko said. "Actually, after the way we broke up, I just don't want anything to do with him. I mean, he could've told me…"

"He did," said Leslie gently. "It's not your fault that the sheriff fell for his old girlfriend, you know."

Myeko sighed. "Then why do I feel like a failure?"

Maureen said astutely, "Because you're thinking it's something about you that repulsed the guy so much he thought it was time he came clean."

Camille looked amazed. "Is that what happened? Wow."

"But I was nuts about him," Myeko finally protested, giving Camille a wounded look. "I really thought he might be it, and the kids loved him. Noelle still asks why he never comes over anymore—she's too young to understand."

"That doesn't mean you can't find someone else," Tabitha said. "Don't worry about the sheriff. Look what happened to Michiko's sister Reiko. After she went to visit Michiko on Arcolos, she had that fairy-tale romance with Prince Errico's younger brother and got married, and she's blissful, according to Michiko."

"That's great for Reiko," Myeko said, "but it doesn't help me. I don't want to leave Fantasy Island. I was born and raised here. Why would I want to live someplace else? Is Mr. Roarke planning a singles bar for the guests anytime soon, Leslie?"

Leslie laughed. "Not that I know of, and I wouldn't hold my breath waiting if I were you. Singles bars are already passé for meeting people. It's my understanding that dating clubs and even some online dating websites are the way to go."

"There's that," Camille agreed. "And since you're so determined to stay here on the island, I'd think you'd be a great catch for any guy who ever dreamed of living here."

"Ha. If it worked that way, I'd already be remarried." Myeko bit into a sandwich as if she wanted to hurt it. "If you ask me, I'm better off this way. Any guy who doesn't like me the way I am can take a hike. And he has to accept my kids, or he can take not only a hike but a flying leap too." She grinned reluctantly when her friends laughed. "Okay, well, I've actually pretty much decided that since Clark and his girlfriend are both from Hawaii, he'll wind up going back to be with her when his current term as sheriff runs out—and like you said, Camille, it's only another couple of years."

"He could always resign," Camille said, grinning.

"I wish." Myeko swallowed back a large gulp of her coffee. "I say we change this subject. When in heck is Katsumi going to quit her job, Leslie? She's so pregnant her kimonos don't fit her anymore, even without the obi."

Leslie giggled. "I think she's going to have to quit after today. I paid her a visit at the teahouse on my way here, and she looked kind of green, if you know what I mean. The baby was kicking her—I could actually see it even through her blouse! Can you imagine watching this little bump appear and disappear like that? It was weird, you guys! No wonder poor Katsumi looked so sick. That baby's such a little place-kicker, I bet you anything it's a boy."

"Craig kicked me like that," Camille recalled.

"Eeeeewwwww," Lauren snorted, rolling her eyes. "And you insane people think I ought to get pregnant." All six of them burst out laughing.

The waitress appeared at their table then and smiled. "Miss Leslie, there's a telephone call for you—it's Mr. Roarke."

"Oh…excuse me," Leslie said apologetically. "Sounds like duty calls." Maureen and Tabitha slid out of the booth and she made her way out to take the call, accepting the receiver of a telephone located at the cashier's station. "Hi, Father, what's up?"

"I have word that Devin Reilley's agent and publicist are on the charter that's due in the next five minutes. I apologize for interrupting your time with your friends, my child, but they'll need someone to escort them to the hotel, and unfortunately the crew from Hollywood has made use of more of our employees than I had anticipated. Will you meet the plane for me? Once you've escorted Mr. Reilley's contingent to the hotel, you'll need to find someone to replace Mrs. Miyamoto at the teahouse. Her husband just called me from the hotel and informed me that she has gone into premature labor and is in the hospital."

"Wow," said Leslie. "I'll tell the other girls—they might want to wait at the hospital and keep Chef Miyamoto company when he gets there. Okay, Father, consider it done."

"Thank you, Leslie," Roarke said, sounding relieved. "As I said, I am terribly sorry it's such a last-minute thing."

Leslie grinned. "Oh, it's not that bad. Just as long as I don't have to see Devin Reilley himself, I can handle anything." Roarke laughed and they signed off.

§ § § -- January 24, 1998

Leslie had reason to remember that last comment to her father the following morning when they stood at the plane dock watching a nondescript young woman making her way down the landing ramp. "She looks star-struck," Leslie said.

"You're more on the mark than you realize, Leslie," Roarke told her. "That is Miss Josie Waring, who comes from Bala Cynwyd, Pennsylvania. She is a devoted fan of Devin Reilley, and is here to realize her fantasy not only of meeting the man, but marrying him."

"You've got to be kidding!" Leslie exclaimed. "Who in their right mind would want to marry Devin Reilley? He reminds me of the late Russell St. Anthony, the way he treats people. She must be a firm believer in studio whitewash."

Roarke chuckled, watching Josie Waring step onto firm ground and pause a few feet away from the dock, enjoying her dripping tropical drink and trying with wide, enraptured eyes to take in all the scenery at once. "There is no doubt whatsoever that Ms. Waring will learn that on her own, in due time. What she does with the knowledge, however, remains to be seen. My only hope is that she is not too deeply disillusioned." With that, he accepted his glass and raised it in the weekly greeting, while Leslie shook her head, feeling very sorry indeed for their latest guest.