Chapter 9.

"No, but Pops! I've got something to do tomorrow!" Katie whined. She had just finished dressing for dinner that Saturday night when Thomas Andrews joined her in her room. He informed her that they were to spend Sunday together in a most exclusive tour of the ship. Katie, however, was less than thrilled. From all that she could tell, Titanic was still on a path to destruction, and she wasn't about to waste the last 24 hours she had.

Thomas stood firmly, his arms crossed. "What is it that you have to do?"

Katie paused, trying to formulate an answer that wouldn't bring on more questions. Telling him that she was on a yellow brick quest for some binoculars in attempt to prevent the Titanic from sinking because she knew they were on a crash course with an iceberg because she was from the future and somehow got placed back a century… yeah, telling him that would not be the best idea. She stumbled over her answer. "I have to uhhh meet with Samantha, and umm-"

"And cause trouble?" Thomas replied. She smiled meekly with a shrug. "Well, whatever it is that you have planned, you will have to reschedule. I want to show you all that this ship has to offer." He held his hands on his hips and even from the very limited amount of time that she and Thomas Andrews were "father/daughter", she learned enough of his mannerisms to know that it was a lost battle arguing with him.

Thomas nodded approvingly, recognizing Katie's submission. He pulled out his pocketwatch, noted the time, and took Katie by the arm. They were to dine that evening with the Ismays, DeWitt-Bukaters, and Benjamin Guggenheim, among others. They made their way through the corridors and took their seats at the table.

Ismay and Samantha were standing nearby, chatting up someone Katie didn't recognize. She stiffly sat at the table, her mind mulling over her half-formulated Titanic-saving ideas. An officer promptly interrupted her.

"Miss Andrews," Officer Lowe said loudly, breaking Katie out of her concentrated stare.

Her eyes quickly darted to his tall silhouette, and after registering it was him, she attempted to stand up. In her quick motions, she did not push her chair back far enough, causing her knees to clunk under the table, sending tremors of shaking silverware and clinking glasses. "LOWE!" she stated loudly, gaining the eyes of the others nearby. Samantha heard this outburst and eyed the scene subtly, not wanting to draw Ismay's attention.

Lowe glanced at their surroundings, lowering his voice to a whisper, "I have some of the other crewmembers looking for the binoculars, and I spoke with the officers about the life-boat capacity."

"Did they prove they can count to at least sixty-five?" Katie asked sternly. Lowe furrowed his brow, at first contemplating the seriousness of her question, and then realizing she was waiting for an answer, nodded.

Samantha kept stealing glances at the two of them, while attempting to fake interest in the conversation her father was having with whoever this guy was. She was trying to be on her best behavior so Ismay would stop being so prying into her every move, but her natural instincts kicked back in when she saw one particular Mr. Dawson enter the dining room. "JACK!" she screeched, throwing her hands up in excitement. As if he was waiting for it, Ismay's hands shot out, quickly pulling her arms down, giving her the angry brow in an attempt to make her behave.

"Oh my gosh, J. Bizzle, I'd like to see you when you're after a fish!" she exclaimed. Ismay, not taking this as the compliment it was intended to be, just rolled his eyes. "If you'll excuse me," she said through a forced smile, sweeping around him.

The dining room was slowly filling up with hungry passengers as Samantha wove her way across the floor towards Jack. "I just… I just want… to smell you," she grunted, doing her best to avoid face-planting into people. Her overwhelming urge to simply stand near Jack was put on hold as the subject of her true admiration came into view.

On the arm of Ruth DeWitt-Bukater was Caledon Hockley, even more handsome, if that was even possible. Once again, she found herself dumbfounded, analyzing his smile, how his cheeks wrinkled with each chuckle, the way his eyebrows danced as he spoke. Her head tilted, observing him from a dream-like state, only to be literally beaten out of it.

"Alright, enough salivating, hombre," Katie said, punching Sam in the arm. Her mouth opened angrily and her eyebrows crossed in response, but her expression quickly transitioned into concern once she noticed Lowe approaching.

"Is something wrong?" Sam asked."Were plans foiled?"

Lowe shook his head. "No, nothing is wrong, but I wanted to let you know that the wireless operator, Jack Phillips, tends to retire to his cabin around midnight so if you still want to speak with him tonight, I suggest you do so promptly after dinner."

"Right-o," she replied, looking quickly around her. "We should go sit down before J. Bizzle intervenes because he doesn't want silverware flying around again."

Officer Lowe made his exit, heading back to the bridge for his officerly duties and Katie and Sam retreated back to their dinner table. The severity of their situation was ignored for a few moments as the two chattered back and forth about the obscenely large amount of good looking men aboard the board.

"Lowe was positively lovely tonight," Katie stated, her chin resting in her palm. "I just want to bake him cookies all day." At any other moment, Sam would have given Katie a side-eye, but as it was, they shared the same sentiments, only directed towards different people.

"Rose should be with Jack and Cal should be with me," Sam sighed. "Rose is too... radical for him. I would be perfectly content with just doing his laundry."

"I'm pretty sure he hires people to do that for him," Katie said slowly, not wanting to completely dash her dreams.

Sam let her face fall haphazardly onto the table. "Is this what I have been reduced to? I aspire to be Cal's housekeeper?" Unsure of how to respond, Katie put an arm around her shoulders in attempt to comfort her. "But... I bet I'd be the best housekeeper he's ever known," she sniffled. Katie reassured her that yes, yes she would be the best housekeeper the Hockley's would ever know.

Everyone settled into the their seats before too long, placing their orders with the servers and discussing "proper" things, that did not involve ketchup babies, the many uses of duct tape, or what it was about Colonel Gracie that gave Katie the giggles. Fortunately, their own conversation was conducted through whispers and hand signals and went nearly completely unnoticed by their neighbors. Ismay, being the epitome of buzzkill, was sending glares as Sam artistically re-enacted the behavior of Gracie's eyebrows and Katie choked back giggles.

Halfway through the meal, Ismay's reprimanding eyes were cause enough for Katie and Sam to turn their interest back to the table talk. Molly Brown held everyone's interest with an entertaining tale, which was a welcome break in the usually uninteresting conversation topics. The addition of Mr. Jack Dawson made the table more lively, yet it still did not compare to those lunches in high school, where Katie's teddy grahams waged war with Sam's skittles, only to be interrupted when the twizzler brigade rolled in and took everyone hostage... but those days were behind them.

After toasting "to making it count" and finishing the last course of their dinner, the table split ways. To Ismay's dismay, Sam declined his offer to be escorted back to her stateroom and waited until he disappeared into the lounge to head off to the wireless room. Katie, however, decided that although she had to dress like a lady, she was at least going to partake in some manly pass times. She proudly followed the men into the lounge.

"Miss Andrews, is there something you need?" Gracie asked, puzzled as to why she would be in the lounge.

"Um, yes," she replied. "I would love a cigar."

"A cigar?" he questioned.

"OH or a pipe!" she added excitedly. When Gracie continued to give her that inquisitive look, she promptly added, "Fine, that or a brandy!" He hesitantly reached into his overcoat and offered Katie one of his cigars and his lighter. She suppressed a cough, wondering why she picked this moment of all moments to partake in her first cigar.

A group of gents were seated around a low wooden table, discussing something regarding a business venture.

"Have you looked into the Williams Company? I hear they are moving forward," one man said to the table.

"We are trying to add them to our list of customers, but are unsure of how," another asked.

Katie plopped into a nearby leather chair and gave her cigar a good puff. "Make him an offer he can't refuse," she said in her best Brando impression. The three men all turned to look at her, to which Katie shrugged. "What?"

She was just about to roll up on a game of cards when she heard the clock chiming. "Irish party in third class?" she shouted to no one in particular. When no response came, she answered herself. "IRISH PARTY IN THIRD CLASS!" She ran to the nearest table, depositing her cigar before tearing out of the lounge to more than just a few looks.

The lounge left a pungent smell on Katie's clothes that was lessened once she reached the fresh air of the boat deck. She walked towards the stern, letting herself through the gates to the lower decks. Unsure of exactly where the third class dining hall was, she took to wandering the corridors aimlessly, hoping something would come up.

A familiar laugh reached around a corner and Katie jogged to find the source. As she rounded the corner she caught the back of a head, a head that she recognized. "Tommy!" she squeaked.

Tommy Ryan turned around, not recognizing the voice. As he saw Katie standing behind him, he quickly took his bowler hat off and attempted to flatten his unruly hair. "Miss?"

"Aren't you adorable!" Katie exclaimed. Tommy and his companion warily looked at each other, wondering what was exactly going on. "Oh, um, carry on," she said, shooing them off.

They courteously nodded and slowly backed away. They headed down the hallway in their original direction before they heard a strange pitter-patter of steps behind them. Tommy jerked his head behind him but saw nothing. A few more steps and then a slamming door and a loud thump echoed in the corridor. "What was-"

His question was quickly answered, as he turned his head to find Katie face down next to a wall. The bottom of her dress was caught in the door, leaving her immobile in the most awkward of ways. "A little help?" she asked, trying to look up. Tommy looked at her, unsure of what happened, why it happened, and what was going to come of this. He gently opened the cabin door, freeing the fabric and allowing Katie to bounce right back up. She noted the curious faces looking back at her and she announced, "I was just trying to be stealth, gosh!"

"Alright, well, we're heading to the dining room for the evening, if you want ... to come... ?" Tommy stuttered. He figured she could use some social interaction in her life.

"That would be GRAND!" she exclaimed. She held out her arms, waiting for Tommy and his friend to each take an arm and escort her. When they left her waiting she turned angrily towards them. "Sirs, have you no manners?"

Caught off guard, they awkwardly hooked their arms into hers and lead the way to the third class dining room.

Meanwhile, after Sam excused herself from dinner, she headed directly to the lobby area. "Hey, Bubs! I need a little summin' summin'!" she called to the elevator operator.

"How many ya want?" came the reply.

After giggling to herself, she answered, "No, I don't need a lift anywhere, but can you tell me where the wireless room is?" Bubs looked at her suspiciously, but after all of his interactions with her, this one was shaping out to be the most tame, so he gave her directions and watched as she ran away. He briefly wondered where her partner in crime was before returning back to his usual duties.

Sam walked quickly through the corridors, running through the directions Bubs gave her until she arrived at the wireless room. Fortunately for her, the door was not locked and she burst right in. Jack Phillips, the Marconi operator, looked up rather startled, pulling the ear phones off his head rapidly.

Realizing how obnoxious she must have just been, Sam took a few steps back before beginning, "Sorry about that, but do you have a few minutes?"

Gaining control of himself, Phillips politely replied, "I'm sorry, miss, but passengers aren't supposed to-"

"This will only take a minute, I just-"

"I'm sorry, but-"

"I just need to ask you a few questions, and-"

"I do apologize, but as the only operator on duty I need to tend to the wireless, miss. I-"

"But I'm Samantha Ismay!" she said sternly, hoping her surname would give her enough sway, or at least get Phillips to settle down for moment.

"Oh," he said, immediately recognizing her name. "Have you come for a telegraph you were expecting?"

Her eyes lit up, changing her expression from violent frustration to childish glee. "I got a telegraph? How early 20th century of me! Who's it from?"

Phillips rummaged through a small stack of notes and picked up one particular piece of paper. "Uhm, a Mr. Jeremy Langston." The tone Phillips used once more hinted at an instant recognition of the name. However, it took Sam a minute to recognize him as her husband-to-be. "Is this the lawyer Jeremy Langston?"

"How am I supposed to know? D'ya know him?" Sam asked, genuinely interested.

Phillips looked confused. "What? Don't YOU know him?"

"Oh, of course I do!" Sam responded, trying to stop herself from sounding like a complete lunatic. "I uhhh, I'm just curious as to what other people think of him?" Before he could reply, he cocked his head as the wireless called for his attention. "Oh, are those ice warnings?"

The machine buzzed away and Phillips listened intently, holding the earphones to his head, his free hand writing the deciphered messages in a quick and sloppy font. Sam looked on, concerned, seeing this ice warning written under a long stream of previous ones. "Does the Captain know about all of these?"

"We get quite a few, but he is informed of them."

"Well, then," Sam said, inhaling deeply, "Promise me you will let him, or whoever is on duty-"

"-Promise you?-" Phillips asked, confused.

"-ESPECIALLY Officer Lowe, know of every single one we get and-"

"The messages are passed on, but-"

"-AND promise me that you will always give priority to messages from other ships-"

"-of course-"

"-INSTEAD of to passenger messages-"

"-What are you getting at-"

"-AND even if you are working Cape Horn-"

"-Cape Horn?-"

"-You won't get annoyed with the Californian-"

"-The Californian?-"

"-for giving you ice warnings? And you won't be rude to them?"

"-Why would I be rude to-"

"PROMISE ME PHILLIPS!" she demanded. He just stared back at her, completely unsure of how to respond and what to make of everything she just reeled off at him. "Promise me you will heed every ice warning and that you won't be rude to the Californian."

"Alright, I promise," he said meekly.

"And don't forget to pass that message onto Bride when he comes to relieve you at midnight!" she ordered.

He answered, "Alright, I'll promise that, too."

"Okay, then... have a good night!" She ended with a smile and left the wireless room to let him get back to heeding every ice message, just as he promised.

"Bloody hell," he muttered to himself, pulling his earphones back on.

Recognizing that it could've gone better, Samantha was pleased that she at least got her message across. She walked through the corridors, unknowingly biting her nails and running through any other ideas she could come up with.

"Miss Ismay!" Sam looked up and saw Bubs flagging her over to his lift. "Miss Andrews wanted me to pass on a message for her. I wrote it down," he fumbled in his uniform for a small folded piece of paper. "Ah, yes, um, she says, 'I know that you know that I know what she knows because he told her because he wanted her to know but you know now that I know'."

Sam thought about it for a minute, the gears turning in her head. "OH! Okay, Bubs, to third class!" He closed the elevator doors and rode them down to her desired deck. "If you have a chance, come down to the third class dining hall! It'll be a good time! Thanks!" she called behind her, hurrying down the corridor.

The faint music from the makeshift band was heard faintly in the halls, growing louder as Sam moved closer. Before she knew it, she was in the doorway of the lively room. As she took her first step in, she heard a loud "SAM!" and turned to see Katie rushing over to her. "Tonight," Katie said, pushing a mug of ale into her hand, "well, tonight we drink a beer and try to relax because tomorrow will be crazy! Ole!"