A/N: Just finished this story this evening and decided to put up the "teaser" chapter now. I had a great time writing this, so I hope you have as good a time reading it!
§ § § - October 6, 2009
The triplets were at school and Anastasia was down for her morning nap; so Leslie and Christian were taking advantage of the quiet. "Did you ever think we could indulge this much again?" he murmured with a barely-there chuckle as he pushed back the two panels of her favorite casual shirt. "I'd forgotten that having children in school could be so freeing."
Leslie smiled a little dreamily and shrugged out of the shirt altogether, brushing her lips across his. "I forgot what it was like. I wonder how much longer Anastasia will have morning naps...maybe at least through the next year?"
"We can hope for that," he breathed, kissing her.
Neither of them was really in the here-and-now when the phone rang; Christian was heavily occupied taking one of his rare turns nursing from Leslie, who heard the phone but had no particular wish to interrupt her husband. When he moved his hand lower, finding her with seemingly instinctive precision and beginning a gentle massage, she stopped hearing the ringing as well and lost herself in him.
Some fifteen minutes later, they were tangled in each other's arms when Christian stilled for a second or two, then muttered, "Did the phone ring earlier?"
Surprised, Leslie opened her eyes. "I thought you didn't hear it at all. It did, but we were in too good a place." She smirked at him, and he laughed softly.
"As well we didn't interrupt ourselves. Our moments together feel quite stolen as it is. Ah, my Rose, you're still as beautiful and sexy as ever." He kissed her again, and she could still taste her milk on his tongue, thin but sweet. She tucked her body in against his and let herself fall under his spell once more.
They were half asleep after their second round of lovemaking when the phone rang again, and Christian groaned. "We must be popular today. Perhaps I'd better go and see who it is. No, my darling, you stay here—if I recall correctly, our youngest will be awake soon as it is, so you rest a bit." He kissed her and rolled out of bed without bothering to pull on any clothing; she watched him with appreciation as he headed for their library to get the extension in there.
She lay daydreaming till he returned a few minutes later and settled on her side of the bed, gathering some of her hair into one hand. "Your father tells us he has a surprise for us," he said. "Something to help distract us from my niece's temporary absence from consciousness and the various readjustments we're making and will have to make."
"And from each other, no doubt," said Leslie through a sigh, making him laugh. "But that's interesting. Ten to one he didn't give you a hint as to what he meant."
"Of course not," said Christian, amused. "But from his tone of voice, it sounds like something quite big. You just rest a little, and I'll take a quick shower before we go."
Leslie grinned. "I'm not as tired as you think I am, my love. I'll just tuck my hair under a shower cap and join you. We indulged enough that we probably both ought to get cleaned up."
"The idea behind your resting while I shower was to keep us from giving in to temptation again," Christian mock-scolded, laughing. "But I'm not strong enough to keep you from joining me, so let things happen as they will. Hurry, my Rose, while the baby's still sleeping." He took her hand and tugged her into a sitting position, and they proceeded to wash each other in the shower, though not without indulging in another round of lovemaking after all.
Within the hour they were at the main house with Anastasia, who at somewhat more than five months old was a lively, alert baby; she had yet to sprout a tooth, although she was at an age where she could be expected to start. That was fine with Leslie, who had too many memories of being bitten while breast-feeding teething triplets five years before and was in no special hurry to repeat the experience. She was talking to the baby as Christian guided her into Roarke's study, where he sat at his desk writing on a legal pad. He looked up as they came in, and greeted them with a smile. "You must excuse me for not rising," he said apologetically. "I find my energy flagging more easily of late, so I try to get up only when it's truly necessary."
"Oh, Father, you know you don't have to get up just for us," Leslie said, settling into a leather chair and seating Anastasia on her lap so she could see her grandfather. "So I hear you have something for us to do."
"The word, my Rose, was 'surprise', in fact," Christian said comfortably, taking the other chair. "One would hope from the context that it's the good kind of surprise."
Roarke smiled broadly. "Rest assured, Christian, it is. This occurred to me some few weeks ago, but it is only now, when we've set many of the preparations for the upcoming changes in motion, that I've had a chance to act on it. I will have something fairly similar as a Christmas gift for you and the children, but this is solely for the two of you. It may be the only way for you to gain the insights into each other that I think would be beneficial to your marriage."
Christian and Leslie looked at each other, mystified. "What's this all about?" she asked, tilting her head to one side.
"Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba," Anastasia burbled, as if seconding her mother's question.
The adults laughed, and Roarke winked at the baby. "I'll leave your parents a few surprises for you as well, my dear granddaughter, so that perhaps you will be able to know me in the future," he said to her, making Christian and Leslie exchange glances again. "For the moment, however, as I said, this is for you two; and while you are busy with this, I'll have a chance to spend some time with Anastasia."
"What, precisely, is 'this'?" Christian asked.
Roarke put the pen aside and closed the cover of the pad he'd been writing on. "I've heard you share the occasional memories of each other's childhoods," he said, "usually after something has occurred in a fantasy and you find something in common with memories you have. And yet there are things neither of you has told the other—your recent reunion with your boyhood friends, Christian, comes to mind. I am not saying these were deliberate omissions; but I do believe you would both benefit from glimpses into each other's childhoods. So this is my gift to you. I've already prepared the time-travel room; it remains only for the two of you to provide the needed details so that I can complete the setup and then send you both on your way."
Christian leaned forward; Leslie sucked in a breath. "You're...letting us visit each other's childhoods?" she blurted.
Roarke smiled. "Each of you will have the opportunity to witness three scenes from different periods in your youth," he said. "You will know what your own memories are, but you won't know the other's till you visit them." He opened the notepad again, ripped out two blank sheets, and handed one to Christian and the other to Leslie. "Let me take the baby, Leslie, so you can do this. I want each of you to choose three memories from your childhoods—any three you wish—and write them down, but don't show them to each other. It will be your job, later, to explain to each other what recollections you'll be witnessing; for now, just write them down for me."
Leslie handed Anastasia to her father across the desk, and while he settled the baby in his lap, she gave Christian a pen, took one for herself and relaxed slowly back in her chair, casting through her memory. Christian's gaze had drifted out of focus and he was sitting with an elbow on the chair arm, loose fist providing a base for his head to rest on while he attempted to make three choices.
By the time they had finally written down the memories they wanted, Anastasia was deeply engrossed in minute study of the heavy silver chain that Roarke had worn around his right wrist for many years. Her parents' movements caught Roarke's attention and he looked up with a smile as they pushed their folded sheets across the desk at him. "Excellent, thank you both," he said.
"When do you plan to do this?" Christian asked. "I presume it won't be for some time, what with so many other things going on just now..."
He trailed off because Roarke, still smiling, was shaking his head. "Your first excursions into the past will be ready shortly after lunch today," he said. "Tomorrow you'll have the second ones, and Thursday you will have the final ones."
"Wow," said Leslie, astonished, and she and Christian traded yet another glance, this one a mix of excitement and a touch of trepidation. "Oh my goodness...this'll really be something, won't it? I hope you didn't write down anything traumatic, my love."
Christian grinned. "That all depends on what you consider traumatic. So exactly how is this to work, then, Mr. Roarke? Is this like the time-travel fantasies we've been involved in before, wherein we are actually part of the past and interacting with people there?"
"You will be in the scenes that your spouse remembers," Roarke said, speaking to them both, "but as an observer only; there will be no role-playing, nor any sort of influence on what you see. You will be among those participating in the memory, but you will be unseen and unheard, and no one will notice your presence. You will thus meet some people that you otherwise could never have done, and these minor adventures may just provide each of you with a little extra insight into each other's souls and psyches, and bring you all the closer to each other, through further understanding of the people and events that helped to shape you into who you are today."
Even Christian was speechless at this; his gaze slid to his wife, and they regarded each other with wonder. At the same time they started to smile with anticipation. "Well," said Christian at last, "this is very intriguing."
"Now I can hardly wait," Leslie admitted with a grin, and they all laughed.
‡ ‡ ‡
Roarke finished lunch before anyone else and excused himself to perform the final setup in the time-travel room, while Leslie catered to a demanding Anastasia and consented to feed her there at the table while she and Christian were finishing their own lunch. "Might as well keep her happy," Leslie said, resettling the nursing baby into the crook of her arm and regarding what remained on her plate. "At least she's nursing from the left side, so I can finish eating."
Christian chuckled. "I'm sure both she and Mr. Roarke will be far happier if she's fed, so that their time together will be of higher quality. I admit to wondering what he meant by leaving surprises for her to find in the future."
Leslie smiled and mused, "If I know Father, he's setting something up so that when Anastasia's old enough, he can leave her some memories so that she can get to know him, the same way we're about to get to know each other. It's the most beautiful gift I've ever heard of, and I just hope he won't mind if we bring the triplets in on it too. After all, they're still young enough that they'll remember Father, but those memories will eventually fade, the way yours of King Lukas did."
"Mmmm." Christian grew pensive for a moment. "I suppose I can safely admit that I didn't include a memory of farfar on my list, but I wish I had...it would give me one last chance to see him, perhaps to enhance what little I can still recall."
"Maybe we can ask for a fourth memory each," Leslie said, considering it. "I've got at least one that I wish I could share with you that I didn't write down."
"We'll just have to see how generous Mr. Roarke's feeling." Christian grinned and took a last bite. "You finish with her, my Rose, and I'll look into it before it's too late."
Leslie finished a couple of minutes later and, carrying the still-nursing baby, tugged her shirt around Anastasia as best she could before walking back into the study. Christian was in the middle of explaining his idea to Roarke, who looked thoughtful. "So I thought perhaps this could be something special for each of us," he said, "and as you said, we would both meet people we never could otherwise."
Roarke regarded him for a moment, watched Leslie step down from the inner foyer, and smiled. "Well, it's not unreasonable, and I did say that," he conceded. "Very well. But it will necessitate a slight alteration in your lists." He went to the desk and picked up the folded sheets, handing one to each of them. "I want you to mark the memory you wish to guide your spouse through. Only one, however."
"What?" said Christian in confusion.
Leslie, better versed in her father's ways, stared at him with a new and somewhat stronger sense of unease. "You mean...otherwise I experience Christian's memories, and he experiences mine, alone?"
"Precisely," Roarke said with a nod. "The ones you intend to visit together will take place on Friday. But for the remaining ones, you will be unaccompanied; you'll have the chance to fully experience what your spouse remembers, without distractions or asides. It will also allow you to absorb the experiences with no outside influences."
Christian blew out a breath. "This is beginning to sound too much like a fantasy, with all its inherent risks and lessons to be imparted," he commented. "But very well..."
"Choose carefully," Roarke advised. "You will have only one opportunity to take each other through a memory, so think it through before you decide."
Leslie's smile was a little sad. "I don't have to think about it. I already know," she said softly, making a check mark beside one of her memory choices.
"Neither do I," murmured Christian, marking his own choice and folding the page again. "The very criteria made the choice easy. How close is she to finishing, my Rose?"
Leslie grinned at him. "Impatient, are we?" They all laughed. "Might as well relax, I think she's kind of hungry this time."
It was another ten minutes before Anastasia finally indicated she was finished, and of course Leslie had to burp her; but when this had happened, Christian grinned, looking boyish in his eagerness. "I hope you and Anastasia enjoy your time together, Mr. Roarke, though I suspect you may discover she spends the better part of it asleep."
"That's quite all right, Christian," Roarke assured him, chuckling, as Leslie tugged her shirt into place and then stood up to turn a drowsy Anastasia over to her father. "It still gives me the opportunity to spend time with her. Now, if you two will come with me..."
With a shared glance, Christian and Leslie trailed him to the time-travel room, which he unlocked before gesturing them in ahead of him. Anastasia nestled onto his shoulder and closed her eyes as he came in behind them and shut the door. "You will notice, first of all, that there are two doors," Roarke pointed out.
He was right; a doorway stood in each of the two farthest corners of the little room. "So we are to go simultaneously!" Christian said in surprise.
Roarke nodded. "Yes—and as I said, you each go alone. Friday will be the exception, but I'll give you more information on that when we get to that day. For now, what I want you to do is summarize the chosen memories for each other before I send you there. They will be presented in chronological order—the oldest recollection first. Leslie?"
She drew in a breath, going quickly back over her list in her head. "Okay. Well, my love, what you'll be seeing is a memory of something that happened to me in the middle of our move from Connecticut to California, when I was eight years old. I never told anyone about it—not my friends, not you, not even Father. Nobody else knows, and I guess at the time it was traumatic enough for me that I didn't want to talk about it. Then I sort of forgot, or at least it settled into the bottom of my brain and just buried itself in the muck down there." Christian let out a laugh, and she grinned back. "But I picked it because of what I did when it was actually happening. You'll recognize me by a long braid. For some reason I had a thing about curls for two or three years during elementary school, and I bugged Mom to put my hair in a braid every single day so my hair would stop being straight for a while. It took me till sixth grade to appreciate my natural look."
"Ah...I look forward to this, then," Christian said with a grin, sobering a bit when Roarke nodded at him to take his turn. "This first memory isn't something I'm very proud of, but you'll probably get a few laughs from it. You'll remember that Ernst, Pelle, Ivar and I made reference to putting a rotten fishtail into a teacher's desk when I was seven years old." At her nod, his smile grew a bit rueful. "That's what you'll see. All I ask is that you keep in mind that I was a little boy, playing a prank with his friends, and unheeding of the consequences or the repercussions. It happened in my primary school, which was in Stensbäcket, just northwest of Sundborg."
Leslie nodded. "I see. Before you go, my memory happened in a blank stretch of eastern Nebraska, which isn't much more than flat prairie if you're not in a city. It was on the fourth day of our cross-country trip."
"Thank you for that," said Christian. "That should help a bit." He pulled in a breath, glanced around the room and then focused on Roarke. "Who uses which door?"
"The one in the left corner will contain Leslie's memory," Roarke said, gesturing at it; he and Leslie both watched Christian approach it and pause there with his hand on the knob. The men then both looked at her, and she blinked, grinned sheepishly and went to the other door. Roarke took in the way they stared at each other and the hopeful smiles they traded before urging gently, "Go ahead, both of you. And I wish you the best."
Christian drew himself up straight, twisted the knob and pushed the door open, stepping right through; Leslie hesitated long enough to watch him go, then swallowed hard and opened her own door. Roarke waited till both doors had closed; then he smiled at Anastasia, who had already fallen asleep, and murmured, "Now the adventure begins."
