Written by Jeanita Sheffey
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.

Rose sat at the table, listening to her mother’s tireless droning about the wedding arrangements. Now, Ruth was telling the odyssey of the lavender bridesmaids’ gowns and how she had to return them for a more favorable color. But Rose wasn’t paying attention to any of the conversation, really. Her thoughts at the moment were with Jack. It had been a full hour since she saw him last. A full hour since he had begged her not to marry Cal, to save herself and her fiery spirit. She was beyond touched by his speech, full of concern and an emotion that she was afraid to acknowledge. If she acknowledged that emotion, it would mean that she was missing out on a chance at true happiness. No. It was best to ignore it. To not even give name to the emotion in Jack’s voice or his eyes of cobalt blue. Eyes that she constantly found herself getting lost in. After all, emotions such as love and passion were something a true lady knew nothing about. And that was what Rose was. A well brought up lady. A lady who knew her place in society.

At that last thought, Rose’s gaze fell on a table in the far corner of the café. Where a mother was telling her daughter to sit up straight and how to place a napkin on her lap. Rose frowned, seeing herself in that child. Being groomed to be everything a well brought up girl ought to be. A girl who pushed her feelings aside and lived a lonely life, void of love. She looked back at her mother and high society friends. Women who were cold and emotionless. Women who had spent all their lives pushing aside their true feelings to become heartless prudes. Who wanted to stamp out the spirits of those who came afterwards.

Picking up her now cold cup of tea, Rose dumped the liquid in her lap, ruining her dress. Her mind was made up. No longer would she be her mother’s puppet.

"Rose! What are you doing?" Ruth exclaimed, horrified by what she deemed a crime. "That dress was a Paris original and cost Cal a fortune. Now look at it! It’s ruined! Go up and change right now!"

"Yes, Mother." Rose got to her feet, hiding her glee at finally being dismissed from the boring tea party. "Good day, ladies." Heading out of the café, Rose rolled her eyes as she heard the Countess of Rothes declare the ruination of the dress a tragedy.

Rose exited the room, her destination not her stateroom to change, but towards the steerage section of the ship in search of the one man who truly understood her and accepted her for who she truly was. Not as some fragile debutante who was in danger of fainting spells and the like, but as a bright, intelligent woman who had dreams and desires of her own.

*****

Jack leaned against the rail, his mind on the night before, when he took Rose to the party in steerage. On the fiery, daring spirit he had been witness to. The spirit that was going to die a slow, painful death in the confines of high society.

He didn’t know what he had expected to happen in the gymnasium. But he wasn’t expecting her to return to that cold, stuffy world of her mother and fiancé. Rose was going to wilt and die in that environment, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Jack." He whirled around at the sound of her voice, nervous yet determined. There she stood, a sheepish smile on her face, the wind tossing her auburn curls.

What was this? Was she there to torture him with her beauty? With her fiery spirit that would be snuffed out once she was married to Cal? Was he some kind of cruel joke for her? Or a fling before she settled down? "I changed my mind." She smiled. Despite his confused thoughts, Jack found himself smiling happily. It was her eyes that told him that this was more than a fling. That this was her first steps towards freedom. "They told me that you might be up…" Rose began, but Jack quieted her. There was so much that he wanted to show her. So much that he wanted to share.

"Give me your hand," he gently requested, knowing just how to convey what they both were feeling at the moment. Without even a touch of hesitancy, Rose slipped her hand into his.

She had no idea what he had planned, but she was a willing participant.

"Close your eyes," Jack requested, stepping behind her. "Keep them closed. No peeking."

Rose giggled as she squeezed her eyes closed. What was Jack up to? She couldn’t wait to find out. So far, everything Jack had shown her was magical and fun.

"Okay. Step up onto the rail." He stepped up behind her, amazed that she was doing everything he was telling her to do. "Do you trust me?" Stupid question, Dawson. After all she’s done with you, of course she does.

"I trust you." She sighed as he lifted her hands off the railing and out to her sides.

"Open your eyes." He let go of her hands and placed his hands on her waist.

Rose gasped in surprise and delight as she found herself racing over the ocean. "I’m flying, Jack!" She looked into his smiling blue eyes, fully happy with her decision to leave her high society world behind.

Lacing his fingers through hers, Jack felt like singing. Rose had perfectly described how he wanted her to feel--like she was flying into freedom--like a bold eagle. "Come Josephine in my flying machine, and it’s up she goes, up she goes."

Rose laughed. Oh, what a perfect song for this. "Up, up, to the sky, dear."

"Oh, my, the sky is on fire." Jack laughed.

"Up and up, good-bye!" they sang in unison.

Rose turned to sing another verse, but fell silent as Jack’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. She turned her head and found his lips meeting hers. Jack and the ship were suddenly one force, buoying her into a future of love, freedom, and optimism.

After a few minutes, the kiss ended. Jack hopped down and helped Rose back onto the deck. Both of their hearts were beating a thousand miles a minute. He knew now that what he felt for Rose was more than affection. It was love. Something he had thought would never happen to him.

"Jack…what do we do now?" Rose looked into his eyes, knowing that from here on out, where he’d go, she’d be sure to follow.

"What do you want to do?" Jack asked, willing to let her make the decisions for a while.

Rose smiled mischievously. She wanted to throw her newfound freedom in her mother and Cal’s faces, and she knew just how to do that.

"Will you draw me, Jack? In my stateroom?"

Jack looked at her as if she was crazy. Sure, he wouldn’t mind drawing her, but in her mother and fiancé’s stateroom? That was suicide. But he couldn’t refuse her. He’d grant her every desire if he could. "If that’s what you want."

"Oh, it is." Rose giggled, grabbing his hand to lead him up to the first class section of the ship. Both were unaware of the night of adventure, passion, and tragedy ahead of them.

The End.

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