A/N: To be posted in parts, because I'm busily adding extra material from early unposted stories that were transcriptions of actual Fantasy Island episodes, for upcoming chapters. I'm planning on making it a decidedly eventful summer for Christian and Leslie, and not just because of the events being related in this story… (smile!)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

§ § § -- May 18, 2004

A preoccupied Leslie rubbed her pregnant stomach, staring at nothing, while Christian piloted their car towards home, having just picked her up at the main house after her final weekend as Roarke's assistant before her long maternity leave. She was so quiet for so long that eventually he turned to her and asked, "What's wrong, my Rose? Is being confined to home so bad?"

Leslie looked wistfully at him and sighed. "It's just going to feel so strange, not going to work with Father each weekend. I know I won't have much chance to think about it after the babies are here, but right now…well, I'll miss it. I've always loved being in on the fantasies, ever since I first came here."

Christian smiled. "Perhaps Mr. Roarke would consent to telling you about them over the phone from home, or something like that. Really, my darling, I don't know just how much time you're going to have to contemplate what you're missing out on. While you can still get around, you'll have to show Margareta and her servant the general ropes around the house, and we both will have to sit down with them and explain the parts of the baby-care routine that you and I have already worked out. You'll be occupied enough, believe me."

Leslie sighed again and said, "It's just that…oh, I don't know." She made a face. "I must be finally realizing just what we're giving up in exchange for having children."

"Well, you're a little late to regret it now," Christian teased, laughing. "Don't fret over it so. I think you'll find that the rewards of having the triplets will be more than worth whatever sacrifices we make. My brothers and sister never regretted having their children, I can tell you that. Oh yes, I nearly forgot. Mr. Roarke suggested I tell you that you're going to have a surprise visitor, but not to say who it is."

"Isn't that just like Father to tantalize me that way!" Leslie groaned. "Did he say when this visitor's supposed to get here?"

"Presumably said visitor is on the same charter that Margareta and her servant are arriving on," Christian replied. "Now look, I'll install you on our sofa, and you can read for a while, just relax and take it easy. Magga's charter will be here at noon, so I'll be at home for a few hours before I have to go and get them. Tell me if there's anything you need, all right? I don't want you constantly struggling up and down in an effort to get this or that. Ever since Dr. Hannaford said it's time for you to start taking it easier in these last few weeks, I've had a dread of you doing exactly the opposite and trying to take on even more tasks."

"You sure don't have much faith in me," Leslie complained, and he grinned. "Well, maybe it'll be nice to just rest awhile and do something quiet. I wanted to read up on that chapter about labor and giving birth anyway…"

Christian snorted in exasperation and exclaimed, "Some restful pastime that would be! You've already indicated you're nervous about labor and birth, and I daresay that chapter will only make you even more so. No, I think you'll be happier reading a romance novel or some such thing. Ach, I sometimes think it'll be less stressful after the babies are born than it is now just dealing with you."

"Holy paradise, Christian, you sure know how to encourage a person," Leslie said, giving him a tolerantly annoyed look. Christian chuckled in spite of himself, and she had to grin. "Now that you mention it, there's quite a stack of lurid bodice-rippers in the basket by the chair. I suppose I could start plowing through those."

"I saw them in there," Christian remarked. "Where did you get them?"

"They're Myeko's," Leslie said. "Lately she's been asking me how I liked this or that one, and I have to keep telling her I haven't read them yet. Maybe now I can finally answer her questions. I just hope I can get through them. When I read romance books I usually prefer the ones with modern-day settings."

"Oh?" said Christian idly, slowing for the turn into the Enclave access road. "I don't see you reading much at all, but I do know you've never picked up a book with a cover quite like those. Truly, if the paintings on those covers showed any more skin, they'd have to sell them wrapped in brown paper."

Leslie laughed. "They're probably as lurid on the inside as on the outside. Oh well, at least they'll be a source of entertainment. I never could stand all those yakety-yak talk shows where everybody tells the world their worst and most embarrassing personal problems. And the only decent morning game show on the air anymore is 'The Price is Right'. That one always reminds me of Lauren's sister-in-law Jenny." She sat up straight. "Hey! That's a name I've always liked—Jenny! If we have a girl, we could consider that one for her!"

Christian looked at her in surprise. "Really? You never said so."

"I think we've been so busy eliminating names we don't like, we haven't had a chance to talk about the ones we do," Leslie observed, making him laugh. "Maybe when Margareta and the servant get here, they could help us out. We sure aren't getting anywhere on our own, I know that much."

Christian pulled into their driveway and killed the engine. "Well, we can think about that. Come on, let's get you inside and settled down first."

At about eleven-thirty he left her reading on the sofa and went off to pick up Margareta and her servant. Left to herself in the quiet house, Leslie got more into her book than she had expected to, and when the door opened, she was giggling at a sex scene that had been written in especially purple prose. Christian came in first and stopped long enough to raise an eyebrow at her. "Something funny, my Rose?"

"Yeah, the writing in this thing," she said cheerfully, sticking a bookmark in the tome and dropping it on the coffee table. "Where's Margareta?"

"Right here," said the twenty-seven-year-old princess, stepping around Christian and grinning at her aunt. "Hello, Aunt Leslie, it's good to see you again—and the new addition looks lovely! I can't wait to see the rooms Uncle Christian was telling me I'll be in." She glanced behind her, out the door, and called out something in jordiska. "Sorry, Aunt Leslie, it's my servant. She's bringing in my bags."

"That's okay," said Leslie. "You know, we really appreciate this, your coming out here for the entire summer just to help us out. Father's given us a year's subscription with a diaper service, so that'll be a help, but having you and the servant around will be a real bonus too. What's her name?"

Christian pulled the door a little farther open for a young woman with pale blonde hair drawn back in a bun, clad in what looked like nothing so much as medical scrubs and wearing no makeup. Her head was down, but when Margareta spoke to her in jordiska again, she straightened up and managed a curtsy at Leslie despite lugging three suitcases. Leslie looked at Christian, who half-smiled and slipped back out the door again for some reason; she frowned slightly and looked at Margareta. "Why the curtsy?"

"Protocol, Aunt Leslie. Even if you and Uncle Christian aren't officially royalty, you still belong to the royal family and should be shown the respect due you. Anyhow, this is Ingrid. She's worked at the castle for the last four years; she's twenty-two and she speaks only a little English. I thought bringing her here where she would be immersed in it would help her learn the language faster."

"That's not a bad idea," Leslie said. "Christian and I intend the triplets to learn jordiska and English simultaneously as they're growing up. Uh…hallå då, Ingrid," she added, using the informal jordisk greeting she'd often heard Christian employ with his family. Margareta stared at her in surprise.

"I didn't know you spoke any jordiska," she said.

"I don't, really," Leslie admitted. "I've told Christian I want to learn, but he never seems to get around to teaching me any. What few words I know, I've picked up from hearing him use on the phone." She glanced at the door. "Where'd Christian go?"

"Someone else came in on the plane with us," Margareta explained with a grin, "and he's gone out to help her. Where should Ingrid take the bags?"

"See that doorway just past the stairs?" Leslie said, gesturing in that direction. "Tell her to go through there, and the suite you and she are sharing will be on her right." While Margareta was relaying this to Ingrid in jordiska, the door opened again and Christian came back in—with none other than Arcolos' Queen Michiko right behind him. "Michiko!! I can't believe you're really here!" Leslie shrieked, overjoyed.

"Hi, Leslie!" Michiko exclaimed, and she rushed to the sofa to give Leslie a hug. "It's been so long since we saw each other, it just sickens me. I told Errico in no uncertain terms that I was bringing Catalina here to the island so she can get to know my parents and I could be here when your triplets are born. I guess he knew better than to argue with me; he didn't put up any fuss at all. Smart man."

Leslie laughed as Michiko sat on the sofa just beyond her feet. "I'll say. So where are you staying while you're here, and how long do you plan to hang around?"

"I'm at my parents' house," Michiko said, "and I'll be here until July—I understand Maureen's baby is due then, and I'd like to see what she gets. Christian told me on the way home that your doctor's confined you to the house till you give birth, and made you stop working. What's Mr. Roarke going to do for an assistant?"

"Very little, I think," Leslie said. "Summer's the so-called slow season here, so things should be a little less hectic for him then. Julie'll help whenever she can, but she's a busy beaver herself. Father scheduled easy and mundane stuff throughout the summer so that he can get by without an assistant as much as possible till I can come back to work."

Michiko nodded. "I see. And how about you, Christian?"

"I'm taking the summer off myself," he said. "With triplets in the house, it'll take both of us to care for them, even with the help of Margareta and her servant. It's been busy for me as well, but I recently hired another computer specialist, and I've been working extra hours in the hope of at least catching up before I find myself confined to infant care. And in any case, since they're my children too, it will be a good opportunity for me to create a strong bond with them."

"Terrific," Michiko said, nodding. "Your babies are going to be very lucky." She saw Margareta come back from the addition. "What does your hotel room look like?"

Margareta laughed. "It's sparsely furnished, but that's fine—I like it," she said. "I've brought my laptop from home so that I can keep up with my charity causes while I'm here helping Uncle Christian and Aunt Leslie. By the way—Ingrid is astonished that she'll have that futon to sleep on. In the castle she has just a small twin bed frame with one mattress, not even a box spring. For her it'll be luxury."

Christian frowned. "It shouldn't be so difficult to improve the servants' furniture a little, should it?" he asked. "What has Briella been doing with the castle treasury?"

Margareta made a face and sat down, while Christian took the nearest chair to Leslie. "As a matter of fact, she's just put Aunt Amalia in charge of it. With her accounting background, she can find out what's going on and put things to rights. The last treasurer seems to have been drawing bonus pay for himself without bothering to account for it, if you know what I mean. Truly, has no one any respect for royalty anymore?"

Michiko grinned. "I think Gabriella may have to learn to be more aggressive," she said lightly. "No one in Errico's employ would dare be that bold." They all laughed, and the conversation drifted to assorted other topics.

After a car had come around to get Michiko, Christian glanced at his watch and got to his feet. "All right," he said, "I suppose it's best that we give you and Ingrid an overview of the way things are usually run in this house. Naturally, that will change once the triplets are here, but for now you'll have a chance to settle in and help us finish preparing for the babies. Where's that girl hiding, anyhow?"

"I told her to put my things away," Margareta said, shrugging. "Really, Uncle Christian, she's just a provincial girl. She can barely speak English, and considering where she comes from, it's incredible that she knows any at all."

Christian eyed her. "Don't let that royal superiority carry you away," he warned, not without a smile. "We may have quite a few little backwater villages in Lilla Jordsö, but it's no excuse to be patronizing. Which such village is Ingrid from?"

"Mossedal," Margareta said. "Not too far from Träskebotten, as I understand it, in the south-central part of the country where there's so much swampy land. Uncle Christian, I'm not saying she's stupid. But she's not very educated. Most of the servants we have now are the ones Pappa hired during his reign, and you know he liked to hire them from low-income areas like Mossedal and Träskebotten, and Grandmamma's hometown of Sjöstrand. When I put out the word that I wanted a servant to come here with me, only three came forward! Ingrid seemed the least frightened of leaving the country, so I made sure her passport application was expedited and brought her along. She's quiet and a hard worker, and she's not difficult to have around. It's just that she's easily intimidated by those of a higher rank, and unfortunately, either you or I will have to play translator between her and Aunt Leslie. And she'll never stop curtsying or addressing us—all of us, Aunt Leslie, including you—as 'Your Highness'. We're all royalty to her, title or none."

Christian lifted his hands. "All right, Magga, all right. I just don't want to make her feel as if she'll suffer some colossal manifestation of royal wrath if she makes a misstep. If we have to put up with being addressed as Our Highnesses, then it's a small price to pay for the extra help. I know you've both had a series of long flights, so why don't you go ahead and have a rest for the afternoon? We can get you and Ingrid oriented tomorrow. Leslie needs to rest a bit herself."

Margareta nodded and got up. "Did your doctor give a date when she thinks the babies will be born?"

"Yes, she figures around June first," Leslie said, shifting on the sofa to make herself a little more comfortable. "Till then, it's lie around and vegetate." Margareta laughed, then left the room for the guest suite. Christian watched her go before arising and settling onto the sofa beside his wife.

"Well," he murmured, "either Ingrid will learn English, or you'll find yourself absorbing enough jordiska to communicate with her, my darling." They grinned at each other, and he leaned over and caught her lips in a lingering kiss. When he pulled back, he regarded her with love and concern. "You're feeling all right?"

Leslie nodded. "I'm fine, my love. The triplets are quiet right now, so I've got a little break of sorts. You'll be here the rest of the day, won't you?"

"Of course," Christian said, "unless you or Magga needs anything. I expect it'll be a quiet day, though. Why do you ask?"

Leslie grinned at him and said, "Because I'm going to enjoy the heck out of being with you all day, as much as I can. No computer for you today, my darling, you get to sit here and keep me company."

"Oh?" said Christian and grinned. "I hope you're not expecting me to take up one of those half-naked romance books of yours."

Leslie snickered and teased him, "Just for that, I'm going to read aloud all those wild sex passages to you and watch you turn bright red." They both laughed and hugged each other; then she tilted her head at him. "Margareta said your mother came from one of those so-called 'provincial' towns, didn't she?"

Christian nodded and relaxed a bit, bracing himself with one arm against the back of the sofa so he could stay near her. "Mother was born a commoner and raised in a place called Sjöstrand, in eastern Lilla Jordsö," he explained. "It's a fishing town of about four thousand, a little north of center on the coast. Mother's maiden name was Helgesson, but I know almost nothing about her family—only what very little she once revealed to me, about the time my father announced that I was to be married off to Johanna. I don't even know the names of my maternal grandparents; in any case, they died long before I was born—before Arnulf was born, for that matter. As it happened, Mother also had a younger brother named Christian, who contracted polio as a toddler and died of it at only fifteen months old. I was named after him." By now he was gazing thoughtfully into the distance. "I always wanted to take a little trip to Sjöstrand, try to find the house…well, perhaps it should be the 'hut'…that Mother grew up in, try to get a sense of the scenes of her early life. I always knew Mother as a queen; of course, she was only a princess when I was born, but I was young enough when Father took the throne that I really don't have any worthwhile memories of those days. She was well suited to the role, and I remember being quite shocked to learn she had been born into a very poor family in a struggling village."

Leslie, watching him, found her heart melting; when he reminisced, there was an odd sense of wistful vulnerability about him that made her want to hug him and protect him from all those old ghosts of his past. "Did your mother speak English? I mean, in light of what you've told me…when she met your father and he wanted her as his wife, she must have gone through one killer of a crash course in how to be royal."

Christian chuckled. "She never talked about it, but I suspect you're right. Mother did speak English, yes, although with a substantial accent and not much confidence in her ability. But if she had been able to meet you, my Rose, I have no doubt that she would have gladly given her English some exercise, just to find out more about the girl her son fell so crazy in love with. She spoke privately with me a few days before she died, and I remember telling her I wished desperately that, should I ever find the right woman, she could meet her. And to this day I still wish you and she could have known each other." He smiled and left a feathery kiss on her lips. "Not only that, I wish I could have known your mother. From the tape she left us, I gathered that she loved you and your sisters very much—but that she was especially concerned for you, knowing that you alone would survive that fire."

"You really gleaned all that from what you heard on that tape?" Leslie asked, impressed. "I think you're right, and I'm sure Father would agree. I know she would have thought the world of you. I just hope both your mother and mine have some way of knowing what's happening here, that soon their grandchildren will be here."

Christian glanced at the ceiling and out the glass doors to the backyard, and grinned. "Don't forget, my Leslie Rose, this is Fantasy Island. If there's any place on earth where our mothers might have some chance of knowing all this, then this is it." She grinned back, and they nestled against each other, heads touching, taking a little comfort in each other.