Note: Just my sweet little LoweFic, my current fluff pet project. As I see it now, it will stay fairly independent of the movie, but like you, I have yet to see. Sorry, no Lowe yet in this first chapter, but bear with me!

Warning: Vaguely MarySue-ish, but like all my stories, I try not to make it too overbearing.

Disclaimer: Although Lowe owns my heart, I do not own him. Darn. I also do not own the Titanic or any of the movie characters that may make an appearance. Only the Chamberlains and any other second class characters I introduce at the moment can I so far call my own.

P.S. Please review, I am new and naïve, and I need your help to know I this fic is worth continuing…of course, since this is my pet project, I'll most likely continue even if I get pummeled with hundreds of flamers, but suggestions for improvement are always appreciated.

Chapter I

Aria Chamberlain clambered most unceremoniously out of the car followed closely by her mother, Emily, who was heavily burdened with their luggage. But Aria was totally oblivious to her mother's struggle as she gaped in pure awe at the massive construct before her.

"882 feet from bow to stern, two triple expansion engines with one turbine, gross tonnage of 46,329, the power of 46,000 horses, a top speed of…" Aria rattled off expertly. Despite her gender, her interest in machinery and technology was irrepressible.

"Yes, dear," Emily Chamberlain gasped as she unloaded some of her burden on her daughter. "You've been going over these figures with me since I got the tickets."

"I know, Mother, but isn't she splendid?"

And splendid it was. There she was, the RMS Titanic, freshly painted and waiting to take them home to America. Her white upper decks stood out next to the hulking dark hull, from which portholes peered out like thousands of relatively tiny eyes. A handsome orange stripe curved its way around her contours, giving her an extra air of unidentifiable glory. In the eyes of the 18-year-old, she was the most beautiful thing in the world…even if she was English-built.

"Yes, it is quite beautiful, isn't it?" the widow paused to agree.

Aria rolled her eyes. "She, Mother. You always call a ship she." She tossed up her hands as if this was supposed to be obvious.

Mrs. Chamberlain gave her daughter a small smile. Ever since the death of her husband six years ago when Aria was twelve, she had been doing her best to rear a distinguished and elegant young lady. Although she had been for the most part successful in her task, she had never been able to quite put out that flame for technology that her father had instilled in her. Aria managed to keep it quiet most of the time, at least in front of company, but the sight of this triumph of human ingenuity had seemingly temporarily erased eight years of societal education.

That brief reflective moment passed, and Mrs. Chamberlain all at once became the mother again. "Don't talk back to your mother, Aria. And smooth out your skirt, moving through this crowd has made it look a fright. Now, walk with you shoulders back…don't slouch, show good posture for once, girl!"

Aria, still gaping at Titanic, absent-mindedly obeyed her mother's commands, smoothing out her simple yet pretty cream-colored skirt. Mrs. Chamberlain straightened her daughter's hat over her straight caramel-colored hair and smoothed her dark coat. Licking her handkerchief, Mrs. Chamberlain wiped away a small smudge of dirt near Aria's light brown eyes. Satisfied with the preening, Mrs. Chamberlain led her daughter through the crowd of third-class passengers awaiting their turn for a health inspection, and up to the second class gangway. Aria felt her heart pound with excitement as she neared the ship, the sea gulls swooping about overhead.

As the officer checked their tickets, Mrs. Chamberlain asked her daughter, "Aria, how does it feel to be stepping aboard an unsinkable ship?"

Aria suppressed another eye roll. "Of course she isn't unsinkable, mother. She's English."