§ § § -- August 7, 2004

"Hey, Boss Prince!" Jonathan exclaimed when Christian walked into the office. It was a slow morning, Christian noticed; everyone was there and working, but only one project waited on the table designated for backlogs. "How's it going?"

"Well enough, I suppose," said Christian, taking in the scene at a glance and favoring the group with a quick smile. "I thought I'd drop in for a while and find out the latest. Is there anything new and unusual to report?"

"I've checked your e-mail and forwarded a few things to your computer at home," said Mateo, "but that was early this morning and I don't know what may have come in since then. Since you're here, you might want to take a look."

"Perhaps so," Christian agreed, with a little less enthusiasm than he normally felt for his line of work. It felt a little strange to sit in the chair at his desk, after having been out of it for more than two months, and he sat quietly for a moment just reacclimating himself to the feeling of being there. Depending on Leslie's ridiculous mood, perhaps I'll just remain till lunch, he thought, and then frowned. She'd kill him if she had any idea…

Shaking his head as though the movement would fling the troublesome thoughts away from him, he jiggled the computer mouse and watched his monitor come to life, then brought up his e-mail and signed in. He spent the next fifteen minutes or so going through messages, weeding out spam and updating the filter, then checking through the remaining ones and discarding what wasn't important. He took a few minutes to respond to one from Carl Johan, who informed him that Gabriella's plan to abolish the law that stripped expatriate princes and princesses of their royal status if they moved out of the country had somehow gotten hung up in the parliament and that Gabriella was very annoyed by the ongoing filibustering tactics of conservative southwestern district representatives. Christian let out a huff of amusement and typed back, "Tell her she need not be in any hurry. Leslie has no wish to take on a title again, and I still don't know what use mine would be, on the other side of the world from my birthplace. Has she started planning the Christmas ball, the way she's made a habit of doing four months in advance of the event?" He wondered if Carl Johan would be awake and online to see the message and respond before Christian departed, and supposed there was a reasonable chance of it. With a sigh he sent the message and went on to knock off a few more.

Then he spotted one that had come in the previous day from the manager of his London office, and clicked on it. Allegra Post was a cheerful, efficient woman who had very favorably impressed Christian the year before when he'd been in London conducting interviews, and he'd never regretted trusting his instincts when he hired her. She ran the office with as deft a hand as Christian had ever seen, easily as well as Jörgen handled the Sundborg branch and Mateo the Fantasy Island one.

Christian's eyes went very wide as he read: "Hello, Your Highness! I hope all is well with Mrs. Enstad and those adorable triplets. I thought you'd enjoy a fantastic piece of news. Just this past Wednesday we completed hammering out an incredibly lucrative contract with a company called History Hunters, Ltd., which is in the business of searching for shipwrecks. They are not a large organisation, but they've been very successful in ferreting out small, overlooked wrecks. Their computer system is stunningly out of date, and we have been called in to replace it. It's a major project and will involve outfitting not only their headquarters on land, but also their 'fleet' of three search vessels, as well as programming it so that the boats and the headquarters are all in contact at any given time. It's an incredible coup. There is just one thing: they would like very much if you, personally, could find the time to come to England and oversee the renovations, and not only that, but they would like to employ your website-creation services as well, to improve upon what they now have. We are not due to begin the work until 11 August, so that you have a chance to decide what you would like to do. I do apologise for the short notice, Your Highness, but if you believe you can travel here, please let me know and I'll pass the word along. If you need time to make the travel arrangements, I will be happy to take care of it for you if need be. Thanks, Allegra."

"Amazing!" Christian murmured aloud, gaping. Slowly a grin began to spread over his features. Allegra was right—it was extremely short notice—but if he let Leslie know before the day was out, he could still make it to London in plenty of time to join his crew there for the renovation. It was just too good to pass up.

Then he frowned a little and slowly leaned back in his chair, one foot tapping quietly on the carpet, a finger against his lips. If he did go, it would mean extended time away from Leslie and the children. Christian would normally have told her without hesitation; but after their dust-up in Roarke's office earlier, he was no longer sure of her reaction. She'd had enough of a fit about his unwillingness to have her with him if Roarke let him go back in time during that fantasy. She'd probably have an incredible tantrum if he went to London without her. But if they both went, the triplets would have to go as well, and that could be quite expensive—not to mention complicated, what with all the baby paraphernalia and the extensive preparations they'd be forced to make.

He sighed and shook his head. Conceivably, he could do the website work from here, and from the tone of Allegra's message, his presence for the upgrade work wasn't imperative. He could certainly stay here on the island. But the fact was, he wanted to go. Christian wanted to make an in-person visit to that branch, for it would be the first time he'd done so since it had opened; and if they took Ingrid with them, they could manage with the triplets, despite the enormous airfare he expected to have to fork over. Perhaps the travel agent here could find some bargains they could use. His enthusiasm perking back up, Christian minimized the window, brought up the Internet and began to check out airfares.

‡ ‡ ‡

Leslie was sitting quietly in the little-used dining room at the main house, with the girls at the breast this time. She'd just begun the feeding, with a happy Mariki giving Tobias a bottle in the kitchen. Lunch was in another hour, and she was beginning to wonder if Christian planned to come back for that.

It was a little lonely in here, she thought, even though she was glad for the privacy that Mariki and the staff had provided her with. Trying to dispel the quiet, she talked softly to Karina and Susanna, one arm around each girl as she supported them on an old blanket on her lap, with the stroller waiting nearby to hold them when they were finished. Then someone tapped on the door and she looked up. "Yes?" she said.

"Leslie, it's Michiko—is it all right if I come in?"

"Oh, absolutely, come on in," Leslie said, brightening. Michiko came into the room and lit up when she saw Leslie feeding her daughters.

"There's two of those precious little ones!" she cooed, pulling out the nearest chair to Leslie and sitting down. "What happened to your son and his father?"

Leslie looked at her in surprise. "You can tell them apart already? They all still wear sleepers most of the time, and those aren't really geared to either boys or girls."

Michiko grinned and said, "Well, I just made a lucky guess, actually. Maybe you should think about getting those cute little headbands they make for baby girls and having Susanna and Karina wear those." She shifted in her seat. "You didn't answer my question."

"Oh, well…" Leslie smiled. "Tobias is in the kitchen with Mariki—she's feeding him, and a happier woman you never saw, after all the time she spent bugging me and Christian to let her babysit. She's thrilled silly." Michiko laughed, and Leslie's smile faded as she drew in a breath. "Christian's over at his office…he's been there for hours now."

"That shouldn't be a surprise," said Michiko, "considering his ongoing fascination with computers and everything connected with them. Errico wants to talk to him about opening a branch of his business in Santi Arcuros. He says he wants to outfit the entire palace with an internal computer system, and Christian's the only person he trusts the project to. I told him to settle down since Christian's still on paternity leave."

Leslie made a noncommittal noise, looking down at her two daughters, still busily feeding. "That'd definitely interest him, though."

"Something's wrong," Michiko deduced.

Leslie looked up and nodded, then told her about the latest time-travel fantasy and Christian's strange refusal to have her accompany him. "I don't know what it's about," she said. "It galls me that he and everybody else can use the triplets as an excuse for me not to go. And I don't object to not spending a full weekend at it. But only for an hour or two?"

Michiko nodded slowly. "That sounds reasonable. But maybe Christian has some other reason for not wanting you to go."

"He said he did," Leslie muttered. "He claims he doesn't want me there in case there's a battle. But the same reasoning could apply to him."

"True," Michiko agreed. She grinned. "Who knows, Leslie. He's a guy, and there's no understanding them. The curse of the sexes…we can't understand each other."

Leslie had to laugh, and shook her head slowly, letting her gaze return to the babies. "I just hope he comes back for lunch so we can talk things out and get back on even footing. It wasn't quite a fight, but we weren't exactly hanging all over each other."

Michiko laughed. "Don't worry, Leslie, he loves you too much not to. Uh, by the way, it looks as if that big cookout I was hoping to host is a washout instead. I've been trying to wear my parents down, but they're a little leery, and I can't figure out why."

Leslie remembered her talk about Toki with Christian and Roarke some time ago, and eyed Michiko curiously. "I'm not saying I have the answer, but…well, how much contact do your parents have with Alexander and Noelle?"

"They haven't seen them since Myeko got married to Nick," said Michiko and smiled ruefully. "I'm way ahead of you, Leslie. As a matter of fact, I thought giving my parents a chance to see Alexander and Noelle again would be a wonderful side benefit of having everybody come over. But believe it or not, they won't host the cookout just for that reason. They know Myeko and Toki don't have a good relationship and that Alexander and Noelle don't go to see him anymore, and they're afraid of making their lives too complicated. They can tell Toki's not too concerned about seeing the kids, and they seem to be taking their cue from him in a way. I think they believe Alexander and Noelle look at Nick as their father, and they don't want to disrupt that."

"But that isn't fair to them," said Leslie, astonished. "It sounds to me like they're making a needless sacrifice. Do you think it would do any good to talk to Myeko about it?"

Michiko sighed. "I don't know if it would matter. Myeko and I have known each other since we both started school, and I can still remember the first time she ever came home with me. My parents are very Japanese and very traditional, while her mom and dad are a lot more informal. I always enjoyed going to visit the Senseis, but Myeko was never comfortable coming to our house. I'd go so far as to say she was afraid of my parents—she said once that she was terrified she'd do something that would breach good manners."

"Does Myeko know about this big cookout yet?" Leslie asked, just as Karina let go of her. She looked down and smiled at the baby, who immediately smiled back.

"I mentioned it to her, but she didn't sound too enthusiastic," Michiko admitted. "I don't know. Maybe it's not really worth the effort."

Leslie half-smiled and said, "You never know. Toki may not miss Noelle and Alexander, but I'm sure your parents do."

"They've adjusted themselves to not seeing them," said Michiko. "And I don't think they're going to make any effort towards reconciliation. Sometimes I wonder if it's really my place to try to bring the family back together. I'm sure they aren't happy at the virtual loss of two of their grandchildren, but they won't talk about it."

"Makes me wonder if anyone's asked Alexander and Noelle what they'd like to do," Leslie murmured. "Come on, Karina, sweetie, burp for Mommy." She had slid her arm along Karina's back enough to awkwardly pat it, but it wasn't helping much.

"Oh, here, let me do that," said Michiko, grabbing a cloth napkin off the top of a short stack on the table near Leslie and throwing it over her shoulder. "You've got your hands full all right, trying to juggle two babies at once." She lifted Karina up and cradled the baby against her shoulder, gently patting her back.

"Thanks, Michiko," Leslie said, her smile finally heartfelt. "Karina's always the first one to finish, and if she's not on the bottle at a given feeding, it's hard on me because whichever other triplet is with me is usually nowhere close to being done. Not to change the subject here, but I heard through a rather noisy grapevine that you're going to be flying a brand-new royal jet all the way from Honolulu to Santi Arcuros when it comes time for you to leave! Is that right, or am I just listening to green-eyed monsters?"

Michiko giggled. "It's true. I think Errico decided it was time the royal family of Arcolos had its own plane, so that we could hop off to overseas functions at a moment's notice. It's an awful extravagance, but those rainbow gems will buy all sorts of unheard-of luxuries. Even the British royal family can't boast its own private jet." Leslie laughed, and Michiko grinned broadly. "That reminds me, by the way. Errico told me that if I couldn't talk Christian into a trip to Santi Arcuros to meet with him, I should offer the use of our jet, so he can avoid paying commercial airfares."

With a laugh, Leslie said, "Well, I suppose I can mention it to him. He had actually talked about opening a branch in Santi Arcuros, but the London branch came first and took up more time and money than he'd anticipated. He didn't want to spread the company finances too thin, so the Santi Arcuros project went on indefinite hold. He may not feel it's the right time just yet. But I'll toss it at him and let you know what he says."

As it happened, she didn't get the chance. Shortly after the triplets had been changed and settled into their infant carriers for a nap, Christian returned to the main house and took his usual chair at the lunch table. "Well," he said without waiting for anyone to greet him, "you'll never guess what just dropped into my lap." Roarke and Leslie both paused to look at him; his eyes were alight and there was an eager, excited look on his face. "My office manager in London tells me they've received a request from a shipwreck-search outfit to upgrade and renovate their computer system, and they want me to overhaul their website. Moreover, Allegra says they've asked if I can go there and attend to it personally."

Roarke looked at him in amazement. "Surely they don't expect you to singlehandedly do all the work," he said with a half-grin.

Christian laughed and resettled himself in the chair. "No, I suppose I should have put that differently. They do want me there, but I guess I'll mostly be supervising and doing the website work. I don't have much time to decide, because Allegra says it's to begin on Wednesday. It could be quite the windfall for Enstads Datoservice." Though he'd had branches in English-speaking territories for several years, Leslie had noticed, he still tended to refer to his business by its original jordisk name.

"It would seem so," said Roarke. "Wednesday, you said? That gives you very little notice. Have you made the decision yet?"

Christian shook his head and said, "I've been researching airfares, and the prices worry me a little. I asked Jonathan to collaborate with Neil in London and see what might be available in the corporate coffers."

"So when do you plan to leave?" Leslie asked in a flat, calm voice.

Christian looked at her in surprise. "I haven't made any plans yet," he said. "As a matter of fact, I thought it might work out for you and the triplets to come."

"But it would cost too much," Leslie said, as if filling in his unspoken thought.

"I don't know that yet," Christian said, clearly trying to remain calm. He eyed her, sitting there with a fork in her hand and her eyes on her plate, and asked, "Are you still upset with me about this morning, then?"

Leslie looked up at him then, her voice plaintive. "Christian, I just wish you'd tell me why you don't want me with you if Father lets you visit Finn Greenstone's fantasy."

"Oh," Christian murmured, clearing his throat. "Truly, my Rose, I think you'd be bored. It's just Erik the Loser."

She watched him till he eventually met her gaze, and then shook her head. "You're being too evasive, Christian Enstad. There has to be more to it than that. Why don't you want me to know?" She glanced at Roarke just as a thought hit her, and said, "What's the bet it's something dangerous, or impossible?"

Roarke smiled at that. "Don't rule out the impossible, Leslie."

"But you told Finn Greenstone it's impossible to change history," Leslie pointed out. "Evidently, not quite everything can be done here after all."

Abruptly Christian said, "Impossible, hm? Well, let me tell you this much, Leslie. If the impossible can't be done here, then the point is moot. Suppose we drop the whole thing, all right?"

Leslie was left sitting there blinking at him, watching him begin to eat with singular concentration on his food. Finally she protested, "But Christian…I just wanted to know…" He glanced at her for half a second but didn't respond otherwise, and she rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine. All I wanted to know was why you're so eager to go back. But if that's the secret of the century and for some reason I'm not allowed to know, then a thousand pardons for asking. Go ahead, keep it to yourself." Annoyed, she too began to dig into her lunch.

"I think that will be quite enough between you two," Roarke said firmly, making them both pause and stare warily at him. "Perhaps I had better settle this myself. Christian, in light of what this seems to be doing to you and Leslie, I think I had better insist on the real reason you want to return to the past. If you're reluctant to divulge it, I can only draw the conclusion that it must carry some risk."

Christian frowned, considered it for a moment, then sighed. "Well, I did just tell Leslie it's a moot point, and it is. You see, Mr. Roarke, it was my hope that perhaps I could find a way to rescue the original crown after its loss. To tell you the truth, I wasn't fully convinced it was really feasible, but I would have liked the chance to go back just to see if there could have been a way." He jammed his fork into a slice of ham. "However, I've met with such opposition that I see no point in belaboring the issue, so I'd like it to be known officially that I retract the request. That should make everyone happy."

"But…" Leslie ventured, hesitated, then gave up with a headshake when Christian ignored her. "Never mind." To her disgust she heard threatening tears in her voice, and glared at her plate, watching everything on it waver while her eyes filled despite her fervent wish that they wouldn't.

Then Christian asked, "But what?"

Listlessly Leslie mumbled, "Just wondered why that'd make you want to exclude me from the trip back, that's all, but it's not worth asking."

She looked up, the tears still in her eyes, when Christian laid a hand on her arm. "Of course it's worth asking, my Rose," he assured her gently. "I'm sorry. I only feared that you'd have objections to the idea should I explain myself. Now you don't have anything to worry about, since I won't be going. Don't waste any more time fretting about it, all right? And please don't cry." He smiled, and she managed to return it.

"I'm sorry I got so snippy, my love," Leslie murmured. "It just…bothered me, I guess, that you wanted to run off into a fantasy and leave me behind, especially since it's my job."

Christian laughed. "Oh, I see…it looked to you as if I was somehow usurping your prerogative around here, is that it? Ah, well, I imagine I can understand it to a point." He patted her arm and sat back. "Would you be interested in a trip to London? I don't know exactly how long this assignment will last, but if everything goes smoothly we can probably be back here in time for you to resume your job in September. And if you think you're up to managing three small babies on a flight to the other side of the world…"

"Well, we'd be taking Ingrid, I assume," said Leslie. "My only wish is that we didn't have to worry about a couple hundred other passengers on transoceanic flights. We'd have to have a whole row of seats to ourselves—both sides, probably—and there's the question of feeding them, and changing them, and keeping them as calm as possible in transit."

"I admit there'd be problems, but we're down to one of two choices—I go alone, or all five of us go, along with Ingrid. If the triplets were older, it would be easier for it to be just you and I." Christian shrugged amiably at her rueful nod. "There's still a little time to discuss it, though. No need to get into it here. So how are the triplets doing?"

Their lunch ended on a much higher note than it had begun, and Christian checked on the babies, who were still sleeping, before kissing Leslie and returning to his office. Roarke went out to check on a fantasy, leaving Leslie at the desk prepared to take any messages or deal with guests. It was quiet, though, and she sat for some time thinking about the lunch conversation and Christian's wish. And then she had an idea, which by the time Roarke returned had become the dominant thought in her mind.