§ § § -- January 16, 2002
The special anniversary luau turned out to be a fairly small gathering after all; and Christian and Leslie were there in spite of themselves, and even enjoying it. Someone had gone to the trouble of hiring both a DJ and the plane-dock band—the latter for languid Hawaiian mood music—and there was no end of dancing. Christian and Leslie's friends had bestowed sentimental cards on them, along with small gifts, primarily gift cards to dinners out at assorted restaurants in Hawaii. Christian had laughed: "When do you think we're ever going to get to Hawaii?" he'd asked facetiously. "There's been such an epidemic of computer troubles on this island lately, I don't see how I can ever escape." There'd been a good bit of teasing about that as well, and they had all truly enjoyed themselves.
Gordy had been around now and then, shooting pictures at random moments and, of course, helping himself liberally to the generous buffet. "We told them to make fifteen percent extra food on account of you," Leslie had teased him, making him laugh, especially when Christian had discovered strawberries in his fruit salad and offered them to Gordy.
At about six o'clock, Roarke arose and went to the slightly raised platform that had been set up for the plane-dock band, who at the moment were taking a break. "May I please have your attention?" he said, and the gathering quieted. "Christian and Leslie, if you two will kindly come up here…"
They looked at each other. "More accolades?" Christian kidded. "We're getting some sort of medal or something, is that it? Do I have to make a speech?"
"You might," Roarke teased him back, and everyone laughed. "Actually, Christian, this is something far more valuable. First of all, if you will sign this…" He handed Christian a clipboard and a pen; Christian skimmed the document on the board, then stilled and read it again, more carefully.
"You didn't," he said, his eyes widening. "Mr. Roarke, I had all but forgotten!"
"You're fortunate that I didn't," Roarke said humorously. "As soon as you've signed that, you will be officially and legally a citizen of Fantasy Island." Their guests cheered and applauded; Christian's infectious grin broke out and he started to turn red.
Then Leslie reminded him jokingly, "Just don't forget to leave out the 'HKH' part before you sign, my love." Roarke chuckled.
"Have I really been married to this impossible tease for an entire year?" Christian said with an exaggerated eye-roll, precipitating more laughter. "The worst of that is, it's probably a good thing she reminded me." He promptly signed his name to the citizenship document and said, "You see, all I wrote was Christian Carl Tobias Enstad. What if I'd still forgotten and styled myself as 'his royal highness'? Would that have voided the form?"
"Oh, it's possible," Roarke said, straight-faced, "as there's no royalty here. It's a good thing your title was revoked several months ago, or there might have been a problem."
"You could have always inserted 'formerly' in front of the 'royal highness' part, Father," Leslie remarked, equally poker-faced, and Christian gave her a look that made their audience break into laughter again. Leslie giggled, then gave him a congratulatory kiss that drew whoops and whistles from the gathering and made Roarke smile indulgently.
"I'm not quite finished," he observed when Leslie and Christian broke apart, "so don't go anywhere just yet. I had a little help with this one." He reached into his suit jacket and took out a booklet with a white cover; Leslie lit as she recognized it for what it was. Roarke caught her look and winked at her before presenting it to Christian. "Your passport." The word was stamped in silver on the front of the booklet.
"Ah, free to breach the borders at last," said Christian, chuckling and opening it, then doing a double-take at the photo inside. "Now how did you do this? This must have been taken just today!"
"That was me," Gordy said from a few feet away. "I just ducked out for about an hour to develop some of the earlier shots I took of you two, and then I did some cut-and-paste work and a little retouching, and gave the results to Mr. Roarke so he could make up the passport as a surprise gift."
"I'm impressed," Christian said and grinned. "Nice work, friend." Gordy grinned back, and Christian showed Leslie the picture while Gordy, prompted by a growling stomach, gravitated over to the buffet again.
A little more than an hour later, Christian and Leslie decided it was time for them to make their escape; amid protests from their friends, they gathered their anniversary cards and gifts and Christian's new passport. Gordy saw them and shook his head. "What's the story here? There's still plenty of food left."
"There is?" Leslie said, pretending shock.
"All the more for you to eat, then," Christian put in. "We've spent a perfectly respectable amount of time here…over three hours, you know, especially since we both had to work today. Before the remaining hours disappear and my wife accuses me of being late, I want to give her something special—and I can't do that here."
"No, you just won't do it here," Camille kidded him, and he laughed.
"Well, you might be right about that. Don't worry, Leslie will give all you women the details tomorrow, I'm sure. But if we don't get out of here now, there'll be nothing for her to give you details about, so we bid all of you good evening and many, many thanks for all the wonderful wishes, cards and gifts." Christian smiled at the assorted acknowledgements, and found himself shaking hands with the men while the women hugged Leslie one by one.
Gordy was last to shake Christian's hand, saying, "Well, then, happy whatever's left of your anniversary. You guys really deserve it."
Christian regarded him curiously, since Leslie was still returning her friends' hugs. "Have you ever thought of marrying, Gordy?"
"Aw, cripes," Gordy said, grinning. "I see enough of marriage whenever I visit my sister. I'm a confirmed bachelor, that's all there is to it."
"Oh, don't dismiss it so quickly," Christian said wickedly. "You just haven't found the right woman yet. I didn't find her till I was in my late thirties, and then had to wait almost five more years for her. But she's been worth every moment. Think about it…you should try it sometime!" He laughed heartily at Gordy's teasing groan and thanked him, then turned to see Leslie still hugging her friends. "Good grief, my Rose, what takes a hug so long?"
"Oh, wait your turn," Leslie scolded fondly, winking at him. She gave Maureen a last squeeze and surveyed the other girls with a misty little smile. "This has been so beautiful. I'm glad you were all here with us for this."
"Like Gordy said, you deserve it," Lauren told her. "Go enjoy your evening, huh?"
"Yeah, and don't forget, Jimmy and I are expecting something for our anniversary next month," Camille put in with a teasing smirk. "We want one of these overblown luaus too."
"Oh really? Well, that gives me all sorts of time to come up with some embarrassing anecdotes about you," Leslie said, touching off laughter. "We'll just dedicate one of the Saturday-night luaus to you two and let all the guests hear the stories."
Camille narrowed her eyes. "Look out, Leslie, that might be a punishable offense."
"You'd better go before she thinks of said punishment," Myeko suggested, grinning. "Have a great night, you two. We'll just sit here and wait till Gordy's been around the buffet again so we can get a crack at his leftovers." More laughter rang out, and Christian and Leslie finally took their leave, with Gordy a few paces behind.
"Going home as well?" Christian asked.
"Yeah, I figured I oughta leave some eats for the rest of them," Gordy said good-naturedly. "Thanks for letting me take the pictures. You'll see them in tomorrow's paper if you want to keep souvenirs."
"For the scrapbook your sister and nieces gave you last summer," Leslie said.
Christian groaned playfully. "That thing! Don't drag it out tonight, my Rose, or you'll forfeit your anniversary gift. Good night, Gordy, and take care."
"Good night," Leslie called, casting Gordy a smile over Christian's shoulder before ambling along at his side to their car. Gordy waved at them and hopped onto his bike for the ride home. "So," Leslie went on, gazing up at her husband, "do you feel like you belong somewhere finally, now that you're officially a citizen? No more man-without-a-country stuff." Then she grinned and added impishly, "Welcome to Fantasy Island."
Christian burst out laughing. "Oh, come on, let's get home."
Just as they reached the car, Roarke caught up with them. "I see you've succeeded in making your getaway after all," he remarked humorously. "I merely wished to offer you both my congratulations. Your first year of marriage has been very eventful indeed."
"That it has," Christian agreed.
"Maybe it'll be a little quieter now that we're starting year two," Leslie said, met her father's gaze and continued dryly, "but I doubt it." They all laughed, perhaps just a touch ruefully, and then she pulled away from Christian long enough to hug Roarke. "The citizenship papers and the passport were the perfect touch…it made our showing up here worth the effort. Thank you for everything, Father."
"I'm very grateful to you, Mr. Roarke," Christian added, watching them.
Roarke regarded him. "It seems little enough for the happiness you've given my daughter, Christian. And you deserve the same happiness." Christian ducked his head, a sheepish smile on his face, and Roarke grasped his shoulder for a moment. "Have a good night, both of you, and Leslie, I'll see you tomorrow morning."
"Not too early, I hope," Leslie said. "Christian's been implying there's something big waiting for me at home, and I'm dying to see what it is. If it's that big, I might find myself having to catch up on some sleep."
"You think so, do you, then?" Christian said with a mysterious look. "If we are ever allowed to go home, you'll find out. Once again, Mr. Roarke, thank you…and whoever put this party together deserves thanks as well."
Roarke smiled. "I'll pass the word." He waited till they'd gotten into the car and driven away before returning to the gathering for a little while longer.
Christian, at the wheel, had learned his way around the island by now and knew the byways just about as well as Leslie did; now he took a back route to shorten their drive to the Enclave and reached out to wrap Leslie's hand in one of his. "So, my Rose, tell me what you're feeling right now."
"What I've been feeling almost ever since I met you," she told him, drawing his hand over into her lap and holding it with both of hers, slowly stroking his fingers, then looking at him with sparkling eyes. "Madly, hopelessly, permanently in love with you."
Christian stopped the car, parked it there in the road and turned to her, his own eyes glittering. "You won't sleep much this night if you keep talking like that, you know. We may not even get home." He proceeded to make that threat all but real when he pulled her toward him and kissed her enough to leave her completely senseless.
"Why are you stopping?" she moaned when he pulled back.
"Because we're sitting in the middle of the road, my darling," he said softly, a grin spreading across his face. "Try to have some patience till we're home and I can show you what I did for you. Believe me, it's all I myself can do to stop, but one of us has to have some self-control." He kissed her once more, quickly, then got them back on their way.
It took them about five times as long to get through the front door as usual because they kept stealing kisses all the way there; when they got in, Christian closed the door, turned with her in his arms and pressed her back against it. "Now, this morning, my Leslie Rose, you spoiled me rotten. Breakfast in bed, playing maidservant, even dressing in that silly French-maid costume that made me wish we'd both taken the day off from work…I had only a taste of you then. Now it's going to be different. I think you'd say that the shoe is on the other foot, wouldn't you? I'm going to pamper you now, and we'll have much, much more than just a taste of each other. And we'll start with this." He brought her into the kitchen, where he turned on the light and revealed a small plate full of chocolates, elegantly arranged on lacy doilies in three concentric circles.
"Oh my," Leslie murmured, surveying them. "Dark chocolate, my favorite."
"Handmade," Christian said, catching her surprised attention. "We'll both have to thank Mariki tomorrow at lunch. Mr. Roarke let me borrow her and two of her staff; she provided these, and her staff—" That mysterious smile returned. "Well, they did the rest, which you'll see in a moment if you let me indulge you. You carry that plate…" She picked it up, and then to her astonishment, he lifted her. "…and I'll carry you."
"I hate suspense," Leslie said, evoking a huff of laughter from him. "I want to know."
"You'll see," he told her smugly, deftly handling the delicate operation of carrying her up the spiral staircase to the second floor. Once up there, he brought her as far as the middle of the bedroom before setting her back on her feet, then smiled. "Now I want you to close your eyes, and trust me completely, if you dare."
"Tell me," she said again, but Christian shook his head, grinning.
"Close your eyes, Leslie Rose," he said in a soft singsong.
"You're a sadist," she muttered good-naturedly. "Okay, I'll do it, just because I'm sick of being kept waiting." She closed her eyes and felt him take the plate from her hand, heard him set it down somewhere. Then he turned her around and gently pushed her ahead of him. "Tell me, Christian…"
His reply was a kiss on the side of her neck. "You'd better have your eyes closed," he warned, a grin in his voice.
"They're closed, they're closed," she grumbled, giggling a little. "Hurry up!"
"Stop," he said, and she did; again he turned her around, then released her.
"Can I look now?" she persisted hopefully.
"No peeking!" Christian said with cheerful sternness. "Just wait another moment and you can look all you like, but I won't have you spoiling my surprise. Stand still." She waited, listening to his footsteps on the carpet, the sound of something ceramic landing on a hard surface, the rasp of a drawer opening and closing, an odd clicking noise.
"Christian…" she said, half warning, half pleading.
"Not yet," came his voice. "I'm almost finished. Well, maybe not." Her frustrated groan got her another laugh from him. "There, that's that…" A drawer opened and closed again; after another two seconds she felt him grasp her shirt and lift it. "Arms up."
"I'm going to peek," she threatened through a laugh.
"Don't you dare," he shot back, also laughing. "Stop complaining and do as I tell you, and you'll see it that much the sooner." She raised her arms and he removed her shirt; as she stood trying to battle her impatience, he proceeded to completely strip her.
"What's going on?" she demanded.
"Count off fifteen seconds," he said. "Out loud."
"This is getting weird," she remarked, but obliged him; she thought she sensed hasty movement in him, and she definitely heard the sound of cloth rustling. Finally she said with a triumphant note in her voice, "Fifteen! Now can I look?"
"Now you can look," he said, and she immediately opened her eyes. Like her, he stood there before her without a stitch on; his clothes lay pooled at his feet, and he was smiling.
"You won't think it so strange when you turn around," he said. Her eyes went wide; then she whirled and froze with a gasp. The tub—a large one that could easily hold two, as had the one in their honeymoon cottage—was full of water and mountains of bubbles, and it was surrounded by at least two dozen candles, all lit. The plate of chocolates rested beside two stemmed glasses and a bucket holding a bottle of champagne buried in ice.
Leslie stared at it, taking it all in with wonder; then she turned to gape at Christian, whose eyes were bright with merriment. "How did you do all this?"
"Those two staff of Mariki's," he said. "I had to time this just right so that water would still be hot. They left the candles; I merely lit them all. That bath is primarily for you, but it's my hope you'll let me share it with you."
"It wouldn't be any fun without you," she said softly, and he grinned at that; together they climbed into the tub and settled down, then smiled at each other.
"Champagne?" Christian offered.
"How decadent," Leslie said, laughing, then sat up. "Oh geez, I just remembered. That cork's gonna pop…!" She lifted her hands out of the bath water with a splash and clapped them over her ears, making Christian fall back against the side of the tub with helpless laughter before he gathered himself together and started working the cork out. He'd dislodged it a bit more than halfway when it suddenly sprang out of the bottle on its own with a loud pop and sailed all the way across the bathroom and through the doorway into the bedroom. It made him flinch, and Leslie wilted with laughter. Christian joined in with good nature, filling each glass halfway and handing her one. Slowly their mirth died out and they looked at each other for a second or two, then clinked their glasses together, toasted each other and their anniversary, and drank.
For the first ten minutes or so they just drank champagne, fed each other chocolates and basked in the romantic atmosphere; then Christian set his glass aside, removed hers from her hand and put it beside his, and shifted around so that he sat directly beside her. Under the water his hands started to roam her body. "Did you ever try this before?" he murmured, his lips brushing her cheek.
"Never," she said, closing her eyes. "Did you?"
"It's a first for me too," he breathed. "Maybe that's why it's making me so crazy for you." He cradled her with one arm and kissed her, still stroking with the other hand. She reached for him beneath the water and returned the favor.
When he eventually lifted her and joined her to him, they were both operating purely on instinct; their senses were filled with each other, their minds closed down, their combined focus on the moment. Yet they moved in slow motion, savoring every tiny bit of contact, eyes solely on each other, hands in each other's hair. It seemed forever, but just a moment, till the rich cascade of sensation caught up with Leslie and her eyes slid shut, her back arched inward and she cried out, "Chris…ti…aaaaaan!"
And as it never failed to do, her peak brought on his own. For the first time he cried out her name as well, fists closing around her hair, his voice straining. "Leslie—!"
It was a long time before they came back to earth, and they realized then that the water was cooling and they were feeling soaked through to the bone. Christian kissed her at leisure, then combed his fingers through her hair and asked, "Are you ready to get out?"
She smiled dreamily. "Are we going to bed now?"
"Yes, my Leslie Rose," he said, laughing softly, "we are. But not quite like this. Let's get out, and then we'll dry off, and then…oh, then." His slow smile told her the rest.