A/N: Hey there! Let's continue our journey ;)
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Now have fun with the next one :)
(2)
Teresa couldn't believe she was actually going to spend the journey to New York on the biggest ship in the world. She kept staring at the vanishing outlines of the British coast, while the ship crossed the English Channel toward Cherbourg, France, where some passengers would leave the ship and some others would board to start the long journey to New York.
New York. Finally. She'd waited more than four years for this moment, happy her dream would finally come true. Fate hadn't always been good to her in her past, and for a tiny second it had looked like she wouldn't get on the ship after the rich guy in the pub had won the tickets. But he'd given them to her, even though she still wanted to kick his ass for making fun of her.
"You did it, Teresa," Rigsby said with an encouraging smile. "We'll be in New York in less than a week. Have you written to your uncle?"
She shook her head. "No, Uncle Virgil doesn't know; I want to surprise them. Besides, I wasn't sure if I was going to be on this ship, so I didn't want to get their hopes up."
"You've worked really hard the last few years to get your brothers over there."
"I couldn't have done it without you, Rigs," Lisbon said, nudging his shoulder with her fist. "I owe you big time."
"My mom is gone, my dad is in jail…. I don't have anything that holds me here, Teresa, so it's a new beginning for me, too. Hey, you did promise me a piece of this fabulous pizza once we arrive in Chicago, so I think we're even."
His stomach grumbled loudly, which made her laugh. "You can't think about anything but food, right, Wayne?"
"What can I say…speaking of – why don't we go downstairs and check out our room before dinner?"
"Dinner won't be served until seven o'clock!"
Rigsby's face fell immediately at the horror of having to wait a little less than six hours until he'd finally get something to eat.
"I won't survive this trip," he mumbled, sighing, while they walked down the stairs to the G-deck, checking the long, crowded hallways for their room. Everything looked the same, and it would take some time to not get lost on this big ship.
"I think this is it! G84." Lisbon exclaimed happily, pushing the door open to a small room with two simple loft beds and no window. The light was already switched on and a green bag was resting on top of one of the two loft beds.
There was nothing fancy here; it looked spartan but nice – to Teresa it felt like it was the most wonderful place on earth.
"Seems like we're not alone, Rigs. Which bed do you want?"
"Ladies first," the tall man mumbled, looking at the beds rather critically. They looked pretty short for his tall body, and he was sure at least his feet would stick out of it when he lay down.
"I'll take the top one then," Lisbon grinned, climbing up the two stairs of the ladder in no time, like a quick little monkey. "I still can't believe it! We're on the Titanic!"
Laughing, she took her pillow and hurled it in the direction of Rigsby, who ducked just in time to not get hit. Too bad for the Asian man who'd just opened the door to step inside the cabin. The pillow hit him full force in the face.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Lisbon apologized. "That wasn't meant for you."
"It's okay," the Asian man said, sounding a little annoyed. He tossed the pillow back up to her bed, and she caught it.
"I'm Teresa Lisbon and this is my friend Wayne Rigsby," she introduced. "It's nice to meet you."
"I'm Cho," he introduced himself, before he sat down on the bed and pulled a book out of his bag. Lisbon and Rigsby threw each other a quizzical look.
"Is Cho your first or last name? Or is it just Cho?"
"Just Cho," he answered without looking up from his book. Well, it didn't seem like he was very interested into talking to the two of them, so Teresa just shrugged, while Rigsby kept staring at "just Cho." Who cared, maybe this man just wanted to mind his own business.
Rigsby sat down on the bed, hitting his head on the wood. "Ouch!" Over him, he could hear Teresa chuckle, which increased when his stomach grumbled – again.
"I'll starve before dinner!" he whined.
"Ey," Cho said, and Rigsby looked up just in time to catch the apple that was flying toward him. "Eat that. I can't concentrate with your stomach grumbling so loudly."
"It's an apple!" Rigsby exclaimed, confused.
"It's time to start eating healthy, Rigs. You can't live your whole life on fish and chips or pizza once we're in America. Thank you very much, Mr. Cho." Lisbon smiled down to him.
"If you're hungry, the storage rooms for all the food are located on our deck. Maybe you can sneak in and get something," the Asian suggested.
Rigsby jumped up, bumping his head on the board again. "Dammit! Are you serious about the food?"
"Yes."
"Don't you dare, Wayne," Lisbon called, but he was already out the door. "You were kidding about the food, right, Cho?"
Finally Cho looked up, something close to a smile on his face. "No, but the doors are locked and a guard is standing watch so nobody gets in there."
"You do realize when Rigsby doesn't find anything to eat, he'll be wailing for the rest of the day?"
"He'll learn to live with it," Cho said, then continued reading.
Later that day, the Titanic anchored close to the French coast near Cherbourg, waiting for other passengers to join the ship.
Jane was standing in the personal saloon, a bright room with lounge chairs, little tables and plants, watching out of the window, seeing the little ship that had brought the new passengers cast off back to the mainland. It didn't take long, and the bell rang, indicating that the Titanic was continuing on its way to Ireland. Parts of the French coast were lit with bright lights, fading at the horizon but reminding him of the times he spent traveling through the country.
He'd give anything to be anywhere but on this ship. A small hand touched his shoulder, and Grace stepped into view next to him wearing a loose dark blue dress, her hair pinned up beautifully. She smiled; it didn't reach her eyes though.
"Mr. Stiles is asking us to join them for dinner, " she murmured but didn't make an attempt to move. Instead she stared out of the open window, listening to the hum of classic music coming from the dining rooms.
"Have you ever been to Paris, Grace?" Jane asked.
"No, but I always wanted to go… It must be wonderful there, all the little cafés, Notre Dame, the Champs Élyseés, the Eiffel Tower… Have you been up there? I hear you have a beautiful view over Paris," Grace said dreamily. She knew she'd probably never see Europe again once she was married to Craig Stiles.
"Yes, I've been up there. I wish I could have taken you with me, Grace. If I'd known Gale had arranged this marriage with Stiles, I…."
"Don't," she whispered, leaning into him and closing her eyes. "It's not your fault, Patrick. Please don't make this harder than it already is."
"Grace!" a voice called. It was Craig, standing between the French doors that lead into the private saloon, smiling in a friendly way. "I've been looking for you. We're supposed to meet my father at dinner. I have something for you first, though."
Grace stepped away from Jane, who was watching the other mean closely. Craig pulled a short pearl necklace out of his pocket, showing it to her. She gasped loudly. "It's another engagement present," the man explained and stepped behind her to put it around her throat.
"Thank you," the redhead whispered, her voice thick with emotion. The pearls were pretty but cold on her skin. Also, it was tight and much heavier than the other pearl necklaces she owned. Maybe it reflected her relationship with Craig at this point – pretty on the outside, but heavy as a burden which gave her trouble breathing on the inside.
She accepted Craig's arm, turning around before they left the room. "Are you coming, Patrick?"
"I'll be there in a minute." He watched them go, feeling powerless and weak. Grace was unhappy, really unhappy. If the young Mr. Stiles continued to pressure her like this, it wouldn't be long until she did something incredibly stupid.
He'd seen the look Craig had given him when he'd put the necklace around his sister's throat. It was a reminder, probably with best greetings from Bret Stiles, who wanted him to give the emerald necklace to Lorelei. How dare the man to use Grace to pressure him like this.
Carefully, Jane pulled the flat case out of his suit pocket and opened it to stare at the tear-shaped stone inside. Suddenly he realized it was time to do something. He wouldn't let his little sister do anything she didn't want to. He would talk to her tomorrow and make her tell him the truth.
Jane sensed a pair of eyes on him. He shut the case quickly before none other than Lorelei entered the room. "Hello, Patrick. What are you hiding there?"
"Nothing," he smiled, putting the case back into the inside pocket of his jacket. It was time to let his charm shine. "I believe we're late for dinner, Miss Stiles."
"Please, I asked you to call me Lorelei. I was waiting for you at the dining room, but you weren't there, so I came here to check on you."
Liar, Jane thought but didn't say anything. You were hoping for me to give you the necklace. Instead, he offered her his arm and escorted her out of the suite toward the crowded dining room.
Dining in a room full of rich people, where men only talked about money and women only talked about gossip, was always the same, no matter whether you were in London, Paris, New York, or on a ship. Patrick Jane despised it and didn't give a damn. The only interesting man he'd met so far was a rich young guy named Walter Mashburn who liked to show off but had a nice sense of humor. He'd made money at the New York Stock Exchange and was what others called nouveau riche.
Mashburn was a ladies man, a charming liar, and a womanizer, not stopped by anything or anyone. He was sitting at their table too, right next to Jane and opposite someone named Ray Haffner, the right hand of Mr. Bret Stiles. Also, a woman named Erica Flynn had joined their table. She was a rich widow who was looking for a new start in the U.S.
Jane had read about her husband's death in a newspaper and he was sure she'd killed him, but it wasn't his business. The way she batted her eyes suggestively at Walter indicated she didn't care a lot about her late husband.
The food might have been delicious, but to Grace everything tasted the same. She saw her brother's eyes resting on her from time to time and forced herself to fake a smile.
"The preparations for the wedding are almost finished," Craig explained. "It'll be shortly after we arrive in New York."
"Oh, I expect it will be the social event of the season," Erica smiled,. "Are you going to be maid of honor, Lorelei?"
"I guess I don't have any choice," the woman answered jokingly, but Grace knew exactly what she was thinking. She wished she would be never left in a room alone with Lorelei, because it seemed like the dark-haired woman couldn't wait to scratch her eyes out.
"Oh, it must be wonderful to marry into such a notable family. I remember when I married John, it was pure heaven. Of course it got a little complicated when he started to have his little whores and thought I wouldn't realize what he was doing, but he was such a good man."
Grace had a hard time keeping her face straight. Was this woman serious? She was talking about things like this as if she were talking about the weather! Lorelei laughed cheerfully, taking a sip of champagne.
Would it be like this? Grace asked herself. Would Craig start betraying her by having a string of mistresses once he got bored with her? He didn't love her, there wasn't any spark between them. It wasn't like one of these loves she'd read about in Jane Austen's books.
No, she'd spend her life with a man she didn't love, would have his children, live in New York, in the same house with the old Mr. Stiles and probably Lorelei, able to see her family only when they came to visit her. She didn't want that, she realized. She didn't want to be one of those wives who were supposed to shut up and smile!
"Grace, dear, are you all right?" Craig asked when she dropped her fork onto the plate, her face shocked and pale.
"I'm not feeling well…. I think I should lie down and rest a little." She stood up quickly, flinching when the other men at the table rose as well. "I'm sorry, gentlemen. Enjoy your evening."
"It's the sea," Craig explained, sounding a little annoyed, "People who have never been on a ship tend to get sick quite often. I'm sure she will be fine tomorrow." Everyone at the table nodded, except for Jane, who was staring after his sister with concern in his eyes.
He'd seen her face become pure horror before she'd dropped the fork, like a realization had settled in. Maybe he should go after her.
"Excuse me, gentlemen, but I want to go and look after my sister." He put the napkin on the table and rose.
"She just needs some rest. She's seasick," Lorelei intervened. Craig agreed with a nod.
"She's still my sister and if her future husband doesn't show any solicitude, I guess I have to. If you'll excuse me now…." Jane left the table, ignoring an angry look from Craig, who'd been embarrassed in front of the whole party. He hoped he'd find her in her room.
"Damn it," Lisbon mumbled, while she kept staring at the dark sky, "I never thought I'd get seasick on a ship like this."
"Still not better?" Rigsby asked, concerned. She hadn't eaten anything at dinner because she felt sick, so he'd grabbed what he could and asked Cho to bring some leftovers to his room while he escorted his friend outside onto the deck.
First they'd walked around a little and ended up at the stern, where they'd settled down on two benches in the shadows, watching the end of the dawn and the night settling in over the sea. In less than half an hour, the sky was black as velvet, the stars and the moon the only natural light around them.
"It's a little better I guess…."
They raised their heads when they heard the clicking sound of shoes on the wooden deck, followed by something that sounded like a sob, quickly rushing past them toward the end of the ship.
"What the hell was that?" Rigsby asked, but Teresa was already on her way to follow the person.
"I don't know, but I think we'd better to check what's going on."
Grace hadn't seen the two figures in the darkness when she ran across the third class promenade on the poop deck, quickly rushing up the stairs to the stern of the ship, only stopping when her shaking body hit the railing.
She couldn't breathe, everything was just so back-breaking – her corset, the dress, the pearls…. Angrily, she ripped off the necklace, watching the pearls fall on the deck, wildly rolling around. Some of them fell into the sea, like little white shimmering drops, before they vanished in the complete darkness, never to be seen again.
She wanted to be one of those pearls and just vanish from here. Nobody would miss her, nobody would care…. Yes, she'd always been taught to obey, to be a lady, but she couldn't handle this anymore, it was just too much. Perhaps she should just end it all….
Grace swallowed and gripped the railing. Her dress was too long and making it difficult to climb the railing, but she managed.
The wind was ice cold, the water underneath her a mix of black and white, disturbed by the propellers. Her head was rushing with adrenalin – she'd just have to jump. One little step and everything would be over.
"Don't do it," a voice behind her said, concerned. Grace flinched and grabbed the railing tight so she could take a look back. A man and a woman, judging by their clothes probably from third class, approached her slowly.
"Don't get any closer! Or I'll let go," she threatened, which made them stop. "Go away! Leave me alone."
"I don't think we can, Miss," Rigsby said. "Please, come back here, let us help you. Whatever it is, it's going to be okay."
"You don't know anything," Grace cried. New tears started to stream down her face, while her grip on the railing hardened.
"No, we don't. But we would like to know why a young woman like you feels the urge to jump down there." Teresa stepped a little closer. "You know now that you're our responsibility, I think I have no other choice than jumping with you. I'm Teresa by the way." She nodded toward Rigsby, who gave her a stern look.
"You're crazy!" Grace said, watching in horror as the small woman climbed over the railing and took the same position as hers.
"With all due respect, Miss, we're not the ones who want to jump. You're making us," Rigsby explained carefully.
The redhead shook her head in confusion. "No…. No, I'm not making anyone do anything! People are making me do what I don't want to do! They are pushing me around, making decisions for me…. I can't go on like this. You don't know what it's like to have no choice!"
"Maybe I don't. But I know what it's like to make life-altering decisions with no turning back, you know," Lisbon said. "My mother died when I was twelve, leaving me, my dad, and my three younger brothers. My dad turned to alcohol and became abusive. He always beat the crap out of me, because I reminded him too much of my mother."
Grace stared at her in shock.
"Well four years ago, my dad managed to kill himself and nearly killed me and my brothers too in the act. I worked three years to get enough money to send my brothers on a ship over to America, so they could stay with my uncle and his wife, so they wouldn't be alone anymore. Wayne over there helped me a little. James, Henry, and Tommy are 19, 17, and 13 now… and they are waiting for me to come too, so the family can be reunited again. Well, I guess that's not going to happen."
"Why?" Grace asked, stunned by the woman's story. She didn't look much older than 21, maybe 22, so she must have raised her little brothers all by herself, not to mention dealing with an abusive father.
"Well, because you're going to jump, aren't you?" Teresa looked down into the dark water, shivering. "We won't be killed when we hit the water. I think it's going to hurt, but it won't kill us. But the water is cold at this time of the year."
"How cold?" Grace mumbled uncertainly.
"Pretty cold. Maybe a few degrees above freezing. But who cares? It won't take more than a few minutes for us to drown then, when our bodies get sleepy. Let's jump on three, okay? One…Two…Th—"
"Wait!" Grace screamed, her voice full of panic, "No, no, wait, I…I don't want you to jump. Please…I won't jump myself, I didn't want to anyway…. Just please go back on the deck."
Wayne let out a relieved sigh, giving Lisbon a big smile.
She also smiled, stepping a little closer to Grace so their hands were touching and they were standing next to each other. "You first."
They turned around. Thankfully, Grace took Rigsby's hand, shyly smiling at him. "I'm Wayne Rigsby."
"I'm… Grace Bertram."
"Hello Grace. Come on, I got you," he whispered.
The redhead nodded and lift a foot to climb back over the railing. Her long dress got caught between the shoe and the metal though, so when she tried to push herself up, she slipped. Everything happened too fast from that point. Rigsby watched in horror as Grace fell, trying to get a hold on something. One of her hands caught Teresa's arm, but the force pulled her down so quickly, there was no chance to hold herself.
Lisbon let go of the railing, grabbing for Grace's hand just as Grace tried to get a grip on her arm. She lost her balance and fell backwards. Grace screamed loudly when she saw Lisbon fall, but somehow the brunette managed to get a grip on her dress.
"Help!" Grace screamed, her voice full of panic. "Help!"
Rigsby was trying to stabilize his stance, because the two women dangling on the other side of the railing were too heavy for one man to pull up.
"Rigsby!" Lisbon called now. It was just then that they heard a ripping sound coming from Grace's dress. "Pull us up!"
"Don't let us fall!" Grace yelled, frightened. "Please don't let us fall."
"I got you!" The question was just how long. Either Grace's dress ripped, or his muscles weakened, and she would just glide out of his hand.
Jane was nervous. Grace wasn't in her suite. Where would she go? He was just looking for her on the first class promenade on the A-deck, when an elderly couple came along, walking with their dog.
"Excuse me, have you seen a young woman in a blue dress? Red hair?" he asked.
"Oh yes! That rude girl almost ran over my little Puffy here! My poor baby!"
Jane's eyes lit up. "Where did she go?"
"Toward the stern, young man! If you see her tell her I want a formal apology for stumbling over my dog!" But Jane was already out of ear shot.
He ran. Ran as fast as he could, hating all the doors and stairs that separated the areas of the first, second, and third class, because they took him too much time. He should have known Grace was about to do something very stupid. Hopefully it wasn't too late.
Just when he crossed the poop deck, he heard screams coming from the stern. "Grace!" he called, rushing toward the person leaning over the railing, desperately trying to pull something up.
"Oh my god!" he yelled, grabbing for the hands the stranger was holding. "Pull!"
They pulled and got her higher up, the sound of another ripping coming from farther down.
"The dress is ripping, I can't hold on any longer!" Lisbon screamed. Jane watched in horror as he saw the second, much smaller figure dangling under Grace.
"Pull!" Jane breathed heavily. Finally, Grace's upper body was almost over the railing, when another ripping came from her dress.
"No!" the redhead cried, feeling no more weight pulling her down.
"Help!" Lisbon screamed. She'd managed to get a grip on the lowest iron pole on the railing, but was still dangerously close to falling into the ocean.
Jane immediately let go of Grace, who was pulled over the railing by Rigsby in one swift move, both of them falling to the deck.
"Take my hand!" Jane said, leaning as far over the railing as possible.
"I can't," Lisbon gasped, "I can't hold myself anymore…" Just when she felt her hand starting to weaken, two strong hands grabbed her lower arm.
"I got you. I won't let go, but you have to let go of the railing."
"I can't!"
"Trust me," he pleaded, and Lisbon bravely let go of the railing. Jane pulled her up, never loosening his grip on her. Gasping, they fell on the ground, hearts pounding. Her head rested on his chest, while his grip around her waist hadn't loosened a bit.
"I got you," he repeated over and over again. "It's okay. You're safe." Finally, both looked up, suddenly realizing who the other one was.
"You?!"
A/N: Phew thank god everyone is safe! I really hope you enjoyed the little angst in here :) So if you liked it, I'd love to hear what you think :)
Thanks to the wonderful Idan for betaing this chapter by the way! Go and check out her tag for last Sunday's episode if you haven't read it yet.
Thanks everyone for reading
