A/N: This is obviously not your typical Titanic fic. But I've been flirting with the idea of doing a Jack and Rose fic based in modern times, and get out of the comfort zone. So here ya go. I based this in Chicago because I've lived right outside the city all my life, worked there for almost three years, and am pretty familiar with it, so long as you don't ask me driving directions. Public transportation is the way to go there! Please R&R!

Rose sighed, looking at the clock. She was not looking forward to going home. Despite the twenty four house security, the view of Lake Michigan, and that fact that her place of residence was a condo just off of Lake Shore Drive, Rose still felt lonely.

Three months ago she had filed for divorce from Cal, having come home to find him in bed with another woman. He claimed it was the first time, and that it would never happen again, but once was all she needed. Rose packed up and left that night, staying with a friend for a couple of weeks until she found her place. But not before they had it out with each other.

Cal blamed Rose completely. Ever since they had relocated to Chicago from Philly a year and half ago, they'd grown apart. Rose had been offered the head trauma surgeon position at Northwestern University. Cal supported her, or at least he said he did, so they uprooted and moved. Slowly the fights began. Cal struggled to find a job with a law firm in the failing economy. Eventually he did, representing corporate raiders. When Rose wasn't at work, she was on call quite often. She'd get pulled away from a romantic moment, or from bed at three in the morning. Cal became moody and irate with her for the smallest things. Rose no longer found him sexually attractive. The love between them began to die away. Cal flat out told her he was her other man, as she was married to her career. Rose promptly took off her wedding ring and flung it at him before slamming the door behind her. She filed for divorce the next day.

"Are you going to stand there and daydream all day, or answer that page," Brandy asked her. Quickly, Rose snapped out of it and fished her pager from her lab coat.

"Surgical consult," she muttered. Rose turned to the nurse, who was also her best friend.

"Are we still on for tonight?" Brandy nodded.

"You bet. Bar Louie at nine." Brandy grabbed the files the orderly handed her and turned her attention to them. Rose made her way downstairs to the ER.

...

Jack was tired of the heat. It wasn't so bad when he was in the classroom, or in his apartment. But his car had no air. Every weekend he meant to take it into the shop to fix it, but never got around to it.

He flipped on the radio and cranked it up. He couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, but he still sang loudly, not feeling sorry for any passersby on the sidewalk. The train rumbled on the tracks above him and for the thousandth time he wondered why he just didn't take public transportation to and from work. Sure the L had a habit of derailing from time to time, and the Blue Line had a fire a couple years ago, but he'd prefer that to sitting in traffic. Plus, he could people watch safely, and not have to worry about being run down by a cab.

Screw this, he thought as he turned down the one way street at the next light. Despite living in the city all his life, he hated the one way streets. If he missed a turn, he had to go around not one, but two blocks to get back to it. At least when it came to parking, things weren't so bad. He had his own parking space at his apartment complex, and a reserved spot at his job.

Jack leaned back, thinking about it. Though his first love were sketches and paintings, he had taken quite a nose dive into photography at Columbia College. He graduated with his bachelor's degree and within a year turned around and ended up teaching one of the classes at his alma mater. He'd heard a rumor that Mark Lippman was retiring from teaching a course in art history, and Jack wondered if it was true. He'd love to be Mark's replacement, but he knew it would be a trick and a half to get there.

The light turned green, and Jack stomped on the accelerator. He never saw the SUV coming full speed from the cross street, hoping to beat the light.

...

Rose sat on the locker room bench, letting herself unwind from the long and stressful day. Just as she stood to shake off her lab coat and toss her stethoscope in her locker, he pager went off again.

She grabbed it off the bench and silenced it. An MVA was coming in and emergency surgery was going to be needed. Smiling to herself, she shed the lab coat and grabbed a clean pair of scrubs from her locker.