Jack crept around the room, making as little sound as possible. He dressed quickly, silently wishing for his bag and the clothes it contained. He would have given just about anything for a fresh outfit. He gathered Rose's clothes from the floor and tiptoed from the room. When he returned, wet clothes in hand, she was still asleep. He draped them across the radiator to dry. She stirred when he got close. He tucked the blankets around her. Her eyes cracked open. "Where are you going?" she murmured sleepily.

"I'll be back soon," he said. "Go back to sleep."

"Promise?"

"I promise." He bent down and kissed her cheek. She settled back into sleep with a sigh. He watched her for a moment before turning to go.

The early morning light was grey. A cold wind blew, and dark clouds threatened rain. Jack kept his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the chill. He'd briefly considered wearing Cal's coat but had decided against it. Jack would rather be cold than accept anything from Cal. Besides, a slight chill was the least of his problems. He still had to get money and food and clothes and everything else they would need. He had never felt so overwhelmed; life's necessities had never seemed so unobtainable.

Stop it. He quickened his pace. There was no reason to panic. You'll never get anywhere thinking like that. The first step was to find a job; once he did that, he was sure he could convince whoever was in charge to pay him at the end of the day. It wouldn't be the first time he had done so.

….

Sunlight streamed through the room's one window when Rose woke up. Blinking against the light, she rolled over and stretched her arms over her head. Despite the radiator's efforts, the room was still cold. She quickly burrowed back under the blankets. Jack's side of the bed was cold and empty. Where had he gone? She vaguely remembered hearing him say he would be back. Panic gathered within her. Would he really return?

"Of course he'll be back," she said with a shake of her head. "What is wrong with me? I trust him." Even so, waking up alone was still jarring.

….

"You sure you can handle this job?" The foreman, a burly man in his mid-thirties named Mike, eyed Jack with skepticism. "There's a lotta lifting involved."

"I can handle it," Jack said. He looked the older man into the eye and drew up to his full height. "I've done a lot of different jobs," he went on. "This won't be too different."

"Uh-huh. They tell you what the pay is?"

"$2 a day."

"Yeah, and it goes up if you get into the union. That something you'd be interested in?"

Jack chose his words carefully. "I just got here," he replied. "I'm not sure if I'll even stay in New York yet."

The other man grunted. "You got a wife?"

Jack grinned. "I do," he said proudly. Mike's features softened. "Me too," he said. "Best things in the world, ain't they?" Jack nodded. He clapped Jack on the back. "I guess you'll do then," he said.

"There's uh, something else I need to talk to you about," Jack said.

"Yeah, what's that?"

"Do you pay everyone by the day, or at the end of the week? 'Cause I really need it by the day, at least for a while."

Mike studied Jack's slight frame, his worn clothes, and his earnest eyes. "We could probably work something out," he said."

…..

Cal sipped his coffee. His untouched breakfast was cold, and just looking at hit sent his appetite even further away. Had he really just let them go? Once they were on the Carpathia he hadn't made any attempt to get Rose back. Even after some of the shock of the sinking began to wear off he had still done nothing. To Ruth's frantic questions, all he had said was, "I couldn't find her." The rest of the time he avoided her. She was a problem that would have to be dealt with eventually, but for now, he was putting it off. He trusted her good manners to keep her from pressing the question of what, exactly, their relationship was without Rose.

Of course, there was still the matter of the diamond. The little cash that had been left in his pocket was of no concern to him. Could he file an insurance claim if there was a chance it might show up in some pawn shop in the slums? But then again, he could always report it stolen. Cal smiled to himself. That would take care of things, wouldn't it? He could recoup the loss, and if either of them tried to profit from the diamond they would be arrested. It wouldn't be Rose, though. She wouldn't even know how to sell, let alone pawn, anything. If anyone were going to do that, it would be Jack, and so much the better if it was. "One less vagabond on the streets," Cal muttered.

…

Ruth hadn't left her room since arriving at the hotel. Complimentary suites had been offered to all of the first class survivors, and she intended to take advantage of the offer for as long as she could. There was no way of knowing when or even if she would be living in such conditions again. It all depended on Cal.

She trusted him to do the right thing. There was no doubt that he would do something for her. Public opinion demanded it, but she wasn't a relation; his obligation to her wasn't permanent. If Rose wasn't found he would marry another girl, and then where would she be? Even if Rose were found—Ruth refused to believe she could be dead; she was simply lost, and even if she were found, there was no guarantee Cal would take her back.

"Why should he?" she wondered. "After everything she's done. I told her not to see that young man. I told her to behave herself. But did she listen?"

Rose was such a foolish girl. She knew nothing about the world, or about men, for that matter. Ruth's frown deepened. All she had to do was be agreeable, and Cal would have given her anything. Nothing would have been off-limits to her. Ruth once again found herself wishing she were still seventeen. She desperately wanted the chance to live her youth over again, to make better choices. "If I were her age, I would have already married him," she said. "I wouldn't have insisted on this nonsense of a long engagement. And I wouldn't throw everything away for a pretty face." \

Ruth didn't want to imagine Rose alone, at the mercy of the world, but she didn't want to imagine her with Jack either. She wasn't afraid he would leave her; she was afraid he would stay with her.

…

"Jack!" Rose leapt to her feet as the door opened. She rushed toward him. He carried a large bag in his arms. "Hang on," he laughed, trying to hold the bag with one arm and her with the other. "You hungry?" he asked, setting the bag on the table. "I got some things." She smoothed her skirt. "You washed my clothes," she said gratefully.

"I thought you'd want 'em clean," he said. He pulled a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a bottle of milk from the bag. "I know it's not much," he said apologetically. Rose smiled up at him. "It's perfect," she said.

"I got something else," he said, handing her a bundle wrapped in brown paper. "I had to guess, so it might not fit, and you might not like it…." He trailed off as Rose opened the package. "Oh, Jack, thank you," she gasped. She lifted out a simple dress of green cotton; beneath it was a light purple cardigan. "'Cause it's still a little cold," he explained. "I hope you like the colors. I thought they'd look nice on you, kind of like a flower."

"I love them."

"I really wasn't sure what to get for that," he added sheepishly as she uncovered a white camisole, stockings, and bloomers. "I thought you'd want some, though."

Rose wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He pressed his hands against her back. "Thank you," she murmured. She held his face in her hands. "I've never gotten such a lovely gift," she said.

"That can't be true."

"I'd rather have this than all of the diamonds Cal gave me," she said. "You were trying to give me something I need and that would make me happy. You weren't trying to cover me with adornments."

"You don't need any," he said.

They had to drink the milk from the bottle, something Rose had never done. Jack had only gotten one knife, which he used to cut the bread and make the sandwiches. When he was finished, he wrapped up the rest of the loaf and set it aside. They ate quickly, their stomachs growling.

"We can stay here through the end of the week," Jack said. "I found out on the way in."

"Well, that's better than I expected," Rose said.

"Don't worry. We'll be all right," he assured her. "I also got some soap and some tooth brushes."

"Now, we don't have to share," she joked. On the Carpathia, one of the third class women had given Rose a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste.

"We didn't have enough money for anything else," he said. "But we'll have more tomorrow."

"So, you did find a job already."

"It's kind of a specialty of mine," he said, tossing his head in mock arrogance. He snapped his fingers. "I can get hired like that."

"What kind of job is it?"

"Construction. I've never done it before, and I'm not in the union, so they've just got me doing different things. Today, I hauled bricks around. I'm surprised you can stand to be near me," he said. "I need a bath."

"You need new clothes too," Rose observed. "You should have gotten less for me and found something for yourself."

"I'll be fine," he said. "I'll get something in a few days."

"Well, I'm going out tomorrow and looking for a job," she announced. "If you can do it, so can I."

"You don't have to do that. I'll take care of you."

"I'm sure you will," she said. "But I don't want to be taken care of, not anymore, not like that. What would I do if something happened to you, and I was still just a poor little rich girl? Besides, I want to learn how to do things. I want to be out in the world. I want to meet people." She scooped up the bathing supplies. "I'll wash your clothes while you take a bath."

"Do you know how?" Jack immediately wished he hadn't said it. But Rose just shrugged it off. "I'll figure it out," she said.

…..

It finally began to rain that night as they lay in bed. They held each other, naked once again, the sheets wrapped around them like a cocoon. They gazed at each other in the dim light from the street lamp. Jack's head rested on her shoulder; his arms encircled her. They basked in the other's beauty, but there was little sexual tension in the air. Jack was content to hold and be held by her. His desire for her wasn't overpowering; it could wait. Being with one another, building this new level of comfort was just as good.

Rose slowly moved her fingers through his hair. She lightly kissed his forehead. Part of her wanted more, but she held back. It wasn't time yet. She didn't care that they weren't married. She wasn't sure she ever wanted to be, even if it was to Jack. It sounded so bizarre in her head. How had she gotten here? A week earlier she had been engaged to Cal; she had been miserable, desperate for a way out. Two weeks earlier she hadn't even known Jack. She wondered what would have happened if they hadn't met. Was he wrong? Would she have jumped, or would she simply have fallen? Worse yet, would she still be with Cal? Rose shuddered at the thought and hoped to never see him again.

…

The next day dawned bright and warm. The sky was clear and a bright blue. The previous night's rain seemed to have cleansed the whole world. Jack woke up to see Rose at the window, the sheet wrapped around her, peeking through the curtains. He couldn't help but marvel at her, both as an artist and as a lover. He wanted to sketch her, to paint her, just as much as he wanted to touch her. Feeling his gaze, she turned. "You're awake," he said with a smile. "I wasn't sure if I should let you keep sleeping. It's almost seven."

"I don't have to be at work until nine-thirty," he said. Their eyes met as she moved toward him. "So, you have some time, then," she said. He nodded, already reaching for her. She lowered herself onto him, draping the sheet over them. They kissed hungrily; their hands were like intrepid explorers as each sought out the other.

Rose managed to pull away. "Jack, we can't do this," she gasped. His cheeks were flushed, and his breathing was heavy. "We can't?" he asked, confused. "I thought you wanted—"

"I do," she said. "I do want you, but…"

"But what? Rose, tell me," he urged. "Is it me? Did I do something, before?"

"No, you were wonderful."

"Then what is it? Is it because we're not married? Because I'll marry you today if that's what you want, and I'm not just saying that either."

"I don't doubt you could get a girl to get into bed with you without resorting to such drastic measures," she said drily. "No, it isn't that. I don't care about that. Jack, I love you, but…" She sighed. "I don't want children. At least, I don't want them yet, not for a long time."

"Is that all?" he said with a relieved grin.

"Isn't that enough?"

"I understand," he said. "I don't want them yet either. I want to be with you—just you, for a long time."

"Even if it means we can't make love?" she asked hesitantly.

"Who says we can't?" He pulled her closer and kissed her throat. His hands moved down her. "Jack—" she protested weakly as he lay her down. He kissed his way down her belly. "Do you trust me?" he asked. She nodded. "I trust you."