One Last Chance

AN- So I tend to write sympathetically toward Cal. I can't help it, I hate using him as a villain in stories set after or before the movie. This story explores a little more deeply into Rose and her feelings for Cal. I am hugely a Jack/Rose shipper and you'll notice, that comes through in this one shot too. Jack is the love of her life, but here, she does explore some emotional attachment to Cal.

I kind of wanted to make this into a chapter story but I'm not sure there would be an audience for that sort of thing. Let me know what you think either way! I really enjoyed writing this.

[1996]

After Brock and the others had heard her story, most of her story, at least, Rose had leaned on Lizzie as her beloved grandchild had guided her gently to go lie down. There were several things she had not discussed with them, the location of the necklace for instance, probably would have been of particular interest to Mr. Lovett and his crew, but Rose wouldn't be able to rest even knowing it was making the museum circuit, touring the world as a cold survivor of that night, one that had not aged a day. She had to send it back, it had to go be at peace, so that she could too.

A nap wouldn't hurt though.

Lying there with her pictures there to keep her company she studied them all, seeing all the things she had done. Things she had promised Jack she would do. Her eyes fell on the photo of her riding a horse in the surf with the Santa Monica roller coaster behind her and she glanced at the door to make sure it was shut. Slipping to sit on the edge of the bed, she picked the frame up in her hands and carefully slid the tabs on the back so she could remove it, revealing a brown piece of newspaper that was folded in quarters. Her hands trembled as she drew the sheet of paper out, and she unfolded it carefully, laying eyes on Cal's handsome face once again.

It was dated November 1929, and the picture was not of the same Cal that she had been engaged to. He was older, his hair graying, not necessarily because of age, Cal had only been four years her senior, but she imagined the stress of his life had done it. Rose didn't really know why she had kept it, or why she kept it a secret to this day. It was a reminder of times long past. In all truth, the last time she had seen Caledon Hockley had not been on Carpathia as she had told the crew and her granddaughter. The last time she had seen him had been two days after the article had been printed.

Her time with Cal had been so incredibly difficult and strange, she didn't really know why she had gone to see him that day. She didn't know, but deep down, despite everything that had been going on at the time, she didn't really regret it.

[November 3rd, 1929]

Rose had stopped dead short of the door ten minutes ago, and she was stuck. She had gotten all the way out to the building, had marched from the taxi up to this very spot and suddenly, her blood had run cold and she was staring at his door uncertainly. The nation was in such a panic these days, what with everything that the stock market crash had brought about. She had nearly forgotten about him until she had seen a handsome photo of him in the paper, looking serene and debonair at his desk, assuring people that Hockley Steel had not been seriously impacted by everything.

Of course, Rose knew better.

Walking into this building posed so many problems. The last time she had seen Cal, she had spat in his face and been running from him as he opened fire on her and Jack on the Grand Staircase. Titanic was so incredibly far behind her, this visit would open a lot of old wounds. Not to mention, probably, shock the hell out of him. For all he knew she was dead, and she imagined he had taken care of her mother, as any husband-in-practice would for his mother-in-law in the event that his spouse died in those days. The more she thought about the implications of walking into that building, the less she wanted to do it.

So it was to her great surprise when her hand finally pulled the door open and she approached the front desk. The secretary smiled, was very polite about it. Rose knew deep down she was wondering why a woman dressed like her, highly middle class and plain Jane, would want to pay Caledon Hockley, CEO of Hockley Steel, a visit. She also knew the young woman, who Cal probably had chosen simply because he had slept with her, would never be daft enough to ask.

She was sent upstairs to a second secretary, who sent her right into his office. Walking to the door, she took a few shuddering breaths. She didn't know why she was here. She had no idea why she was so concerned for him, but she was. And there was no turning back now. This was a leap she would have to make, and after all that she had survived, this had to be a piece of cake. It had to. Knocking on the door, she waited patiently for a response from within.

"Come in."

Rose Calvert was not terribly changed from Rose Dawson, and even, Rose Dewitt Bukater. She had dressed in her best, having felt an odd sense of…nostalgia. Seeing Cal again made her feel like she had to be impeccable. As an actress, that was not terribly difficult to pull off. She had saved quite a bit of money from her days on the silver screen and stage and had not been stupid enough to buy any stocks with it. As she stepped through the door, her heart was pounding. Cal did not immediately look up at the 34 year old version of his former fiancee, rather, he was focused on some papers on his desk. She saw his eyes lift ever so slightly, just to see her legs, and thus, her skirt. And she knew he was already fed up with his visitor.

"Madam, I apologize. I'm terribly busy right now, if you just go and speak with Bridget, she will make you an appointment," Knowing he had to show some good business savvy, he set his pen down and finally looked up at her. At first, he did not recognize her, again, not because she had changed, but because he had not seen her pale, round face in quite a long time. When her features clicked in his mind, at last, he removed his reading glasses from his face and stared at her. "R-rose?" She smiled, ever so slightly, and did not respond. He had to be seeing a ghost. "Sweetpea?"

Rose was suddenly unsure of what to say. Cal had certainly never been the love of her life, far from it, that honor would always belong to Jack. But in a way he had been her first love. He had been her dreaded future at one point. He had been her first lover. Sometimes Rose wondered what her life would be like if she had never left him, she knew she would never have achieved her dreams. She knew she wouldn't have had some many happy times, but deep down, somewhere, she longed for the stability and luxury that his wife now had the privilege of holding. She realized she had lost herself in these thoughts and so, with a deep breath, she finally responded, ever so gently, and familiarly. "Hello, Cal."

He was awestruck, his hands were flat on his desk and he was staring at her with his mouth open. Rose took the opportunity to shut the door to his office and sat in one of the chairs in front of him. Se drummed her fingers nervously, clearing her throat before she looked at him again. "I saw…I read about you in the paper and I just…"

"You're alive!" The shock, clearly, was beginning to fade, as his voice raised. "I looked for weeks, I…goddamit I took care of your wretched mother and…" His voice became softer. "And you were gone. That…that was terrible." He glanced her over briefly, she was still thin, but a little curvier. He assumed from having given birth and abandoned the corsets in her luggage on Titanic. Her hair was still long, and wrapped into a simple updo, and her face was still flawless and pale. There was a tiny, plain gold ring on her wedding finger. "Dawson. You took his name, of course." He stood to go to his liquor cabinet, pouring himself a scotch. "How is Dawson?"

Rose had calmly breathed through his tantrum and she fixed him with a steady glance. "Jack died," Their eyes met briefly, and she noted regret in his features, but he took a drink over saying anything on the matter. "He died on the 15th, before the boat came back for us. I did take his name though."

Cal swirled the amber colored liquor in his glass, and looked over at her. "Because…you did not wish to marry me. You didn't want to be found."

"No." She sighed. "Can I get one of those?" He seemed surprised but he nodded and poured another glass. Stepping to hand it to her he looked at her as if she might disappear, and it made her heart give and odd thump in her chest. She downed the glass in two gulps, her face scrunching at the terrible taste, but se gave a satisfied sigh. "My mother arranged the marriage to her own benefit and I…I wanted to be free. I wanted to start over. I wanted to live on my own terms…" His face clearly showed his opinion on the matter and she sighed.

It was Cal's turn to fill in the awkward silence. "But you did marry?"

"Yes," She nodded. "His name is John, I married him…oh. Eight years ago."

"Do you have any children?"

She paused at the question because it brought up a whole new mess to consider. "I do. I uh, I have four. Charles, Rebecca, Beverly and Samuel."

Cal nodded, sitting at his desk again. "I have four as well, Georgeanna, Nathaniel, Rose and James." He dug his cigarette box from the top drawer and popped it open, sticking a fag into his mouth before he paused, offering her one. "I don't suppose either of us will see your mother any time soon."

Rose stared at the fancy silver box for a moment and finally reached to take a cigarette, nodding. "Thank you." Cal struck a match and lit both before he stuck the box back into the desk. She was glad to have a sitraction from the subject of their children, particularly that he had a daughter named Rose. Anything to get her mind off of it was a welcome distraction. She drew the smoke deep into her lungs for the first time in a long time and exhaled slowly.

"Your husband no doubt, is very proud of your brood." He joked, and Rose, who would probably have beat him for saying it when she was seventeen, couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, he's always just pleased to be around them. He's a great father. A hell of a lot better than mine was," She exhaled another long puff of smoke and felt her nerves calm. "We only had the latter three together though, Charlie came with me when he married me."

Cal paused, his fingers just about to tug the butt from his mouth, but he took another drag instead, finishing it. He stubbed it out, blowing smoke all over the room. "I see your time with Jack..was quite fruitful."

She shook her head, twirling her cigarette between her fingertips. "No, Cal. I had him that October. He was completely developed when he was born," Her eyes lifted hesitantly to him. "Charles is your son." Again, Cal was speechless. Were it any other woman, he might have thrown them out at the accusation. But the idea that their brief, awkward time together could have produced something so…precious. He looked at her with a brokenness that she did not expect.

"Rose," He whispered. "The article was a lie. We…we lost a LOT. I don't know if the company will stay afloat and…I would if I could, but I cannot support your son."

"I don't want that, I didn't come to ask for anything, Cal." She too stubbed out her smoke. "I wanted you to know…to finally know. I should have told you ages ago but I was so afraid that…well it doesn't matter now, does it?" She stood. "If you want to know him, you can. You don't need to support him to know him. He knows about you, he has no interest in any inheritance. He just wants to know his dad."

He scoffed at that. "I suspect you neglected to tell him that his idea of a 'dad' is quite different from what I was raised to give him." Still, the idea did brighten a dark part of him that had died in the North Atlantic. He had been her first. He had that over Dawson, that and the boy. I always win, Jack. One way or another. He finally glanced up at her. "Going so soon?"

She sighed. "I told you what I came to tell you. Char is here, well, he's in Pennsylvania attending the University."

"I take it you don't live here then."

"No, I've been in Iowa. I have a train back tomorrow." She paused, and smiled softly. "I'm glad I came. I always wondered what you would look like as an old man."

The cheekiness of the comment brought a wave of arousal that he did not expect. Staring at her, he stood, and walked around the desk to take a few steps closer to her. "I'm hardly old. I'm not nearly as old as my father was when we were together," He saw Rose's lips part and knew her breathing had quickened. She shifted uncomfortably, but he was relentless and stepped as close as he could, backing her up against the wall. "I'm still the most handsome man you will ever know." Bending his head he turned to bury his face in her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume.

Rose nearly gasped at the warmth of his breath on her neck and the light scrape of his stubble on her skin. Jesus. She hadn't ever reacted this way to him as a teenager. She didn't think she would have reacted this way to him if she had just made it back to Philadelphia to marry him and have all of his children. She had Jack to thank for awakening her womanly desire on board Titanic. If only she could figure out why it was acting up now.

Suddenly, his lips opened and closed around her supple skin and she moaned out loud, her entire body engulfed in fire. She had melted beneath him against the wall and Cal smiled against her skin. One hand moved to lock the door, the other slid up her body to cup one of her breasts, marveling at the weight of it as his finger searched for her nipple. Gasping, Rose's hand covered his, and his lifted his head to look at her, her mouth trembled a moment before she whispered. "Not too hard, still some milk in there."

He nodded his understanding, her youngest was still weaning then. He pressed his forehead to hers and lost himself in just knowing who she was, and how long it had been since he had touched her. Seventeen years. Seventeen years long years mourning the loss of her beautiful, moony face and lively green eyes. Lamenting his second choice in bride. Rose stared up into his face and then closed her eyes, tilting her head to press her lips against his. He accepted her kiss and returned it with vigor, his hands moving to draw her body against his, letting her feel his desire for her against her belly.

She made a noise he could not readily identify and suddenly she was pushing him forward, but not breaking the kiss. She guided him back to his comfortable office chair and sat him down in it. He moaned when she realized what she was doing, and quickly undid his trousers as she unfastened her dress, letting it pool around her ankles. Despite having given birth within the past year, she was not terribly different from what he remembered. Her skin was still soft and milky, her belly was only slightly pudgier and her breasts sagged slightly but were fuller than they had been at seventeen.

She removed her underwear and he kicked his pants away. She did not join him immediately though, instead, she surprised him by opening his shirt. She didn't push it off, just opened it and kissed a trail down is neck and over his chest, marveling at the tufts of hair before she couldn't stand it anymore. Meeting his gaze, noting the wonder in his eyes, she climbed up, slipping a knee on either side of his. The chair was just wide enough to accommodate them with way. Before she had a chance to lower herself onto him, he used his fingers to slip between her thighs, testing if she truly wanted this. He was pleasantly surprised at the dampness he found there, something he had always had to work at when she was younger.

Rose was not patient enough to wait though, so she batted his hand out of her way and steadied him with her hand before she lowered herself around him. They moaned in unison, and her arms moved around his neck. He slipped his around her waist and thrust in unison with her, stealing long, passionate kisses, marveling at her willingness, and in a way, at her seediness. Here she had come to tell him about his son, whom he had almost fathered legitimately, and she had ended up in his lap, writhing in pleasure he wasn't previously sure he could cause her. He dropped his face to spread kisses along her neck and shoulders and one of her hands wound up stroking through his hair.

He caressed her other breast ever so gently and thrust a little harder as his breathing became more labored. Rose was familiar, and beautiful, and in a way, she was home. She was his life before having to take over this damned company. Before the money was so much in jeopardy. She was security he longed for, and it did not take him long to reach his release, shortly after he felt her tense and clench around him, something he had never ever experienced with his wife at present. As he emptied himself inside of her, she clutched him tight against her and whispered his name several times as she came down from the heavens with him.

When Cal could think again, they were still stuck together. Rose was comfortably slumped against him and he was holding her tightly, his cheek pressed against hers, sticking with sweat. After a few moments he swallowed hard and whispered. "Come away with me. We'll go away. We'll get away from all of this. I will make your life extraordinary again." She whimpered and he kissed her jaw feverishly. "We'll take Charlie. He'll have us both again…Rose. Rose I love you." He let out a shaky breath. "I've never loved anyone this way."

She was surprised at how easily it came out. "I love you, too." Lifting her face back from his she stroked his cheek, brushing sweaty hair from his face. "I do. And I wish we could have that life, but I can't leave my kids, Cal. And you can't leave yours."

She stood from him and began to dress, and he was left feeling empty. He watched her and sighed. His children were greedy and ungrateful, dull and frustrating. He imagined her children were much more interesting, fiery and brave like their mother. He hoped her little girls looked like her. He wondered if Charles looked more like her or him. She noticed the look on his face and paused, watching him. When he noticed, he shrugged. "My children are…more reliant on my money than on me."

She frowned slightly, and as much as she wanted to, she didn't think she could leave John and raise her own kids with Cal. She walked back to him and bent to kiss him deeply, cupping his face as she did. After it ended, she stood up straight. "Perhaps…we can discuss it further some time. I really need to go for now. All right?"

"All right."

She watched him and saw the hopelessness in his face and she sighed. "Cal, you might not realize it now but you're a survivor. You made it through Titanic. You'll make it through this." She touched his shoulder and smiled sweetly at him. "I have faith in you, Cal."

As she swept out the door she paused to look back and smiled. "I'll be back. I promise." He nodded in reply and smiled softly, waving for her to shut the door so he could stand and dress. When he was clothed, he moved to his office telephone and asked to be connected to Pennsylvania State, and then asked to speak with Charles Dawson.

After a few moments, another voice came on the line. "Mother is that you? Did everything go all right?"

Cal was speechless at first but he finally found his voice. "Erm, she just left. I thought I'd let you know, she'll probably be there to see you soon."

There was a pause and the boy took a deep breath. "Is this…Mr. Hockley?"

He nodded, as if his son could see him. "It is."

Charles swallowed audibly. "Thank you, sir."

Nodding, Cal tried to think of something else to say and took a deep, shaky breath. "Yes you, you're welcome. You're…take care of her, son." He hung up the receiver and walked to his desk to dig out yet another cigarette. He lit it and took several long drags, remembering the sound of his name on her lips and the way she had smiled at him. It had taken much longer than he had expected, but Rose had finally opened her heart to him.

Your sultry eyes, your common kiss

I'm in disguise, it's something I miss

Your lipstick smears, I'm feeling gray

Without much time to take me away.

[1996]

Rose opened her eyes and sighed sadly. She put the article away and sealed the photo back up, setting it back on her dresser. Next to it was a photo of her youngest child, her daughter, Callyn. The only of her three daughters that did not inherit her red hair, but instead had a thick head of black hair. Biting back a sob, she opened the drawer and removed the violet dress she had worn the day of the sinking, and unfolded it to reveal the Heart of the Ocean.

It was time to die and find her absolution at last, hopefully with Jack at her side, so she would feel safe, loved and at peace at last. Perhaps she would find Cal again in heaven, but she felt like maybe, perhaps, after everything that had happened, that would be the worst possible thing that could happen.