A/N: Wow! 44 reviews! That makes this my most-reviewed story on this site! Thank you all so much! You guys are awesome!

Chapter Nine

Decision

Hinrik looked around the rich paneling of the first class smoking room and wished he'd have thought to come here earlier in the voyage. True, the endless droning on business and politics bored him to no end and the smell of cigar smoke made his eyes water, but this was a male-only domain. It was the only area of the ship where Heather couldn't reach him.

He glanced over at Stanford, who was talking with Gunnar and Grant about something, Hinrik had missed what exactly. He'd underestimated his father. He'd always assumed he'd wanted his son to be wealthy and prosperous, to fit in with the rest of first class society, mingle only with those of his social standing, marry a rich girl, offer him beautiful grandchildren. Never once had he realized that Stanford really did want him to be happy. They'd never really seen eye-to-eye on anything before. There had been a time when he was a teenager that Stanford had tried to sell Tempest, believing Hinrik was shirking his responsibilities in order to spend time with a horse. If his mother hadn't intervened on his behalf, he'd have lost his best friend. But this sentimental side of Stanford was one that Hinrik had never seen before, and he knew it was genuine. His father wanted him to be happy.

But what did that mean? Did it mean saving his mother? True, it would make him happy to have his mother live longer, but at what cost? He glanced around the room. If he continued on his current course, this is where he'd end up. This was the kind of person he'd be expected to be. A stuffy, pompous rich man with nothing better to do with his time than argue over politics, smoking cigars, drinking the finest champagne and eating the caviar he detested so much.

No. That wasn't happiness, and he knew it.

And he also knew where he could find it.

He stood up abruptly, looking significantly at his father as he said, "Would you excuse me, please?"

Stanford might have noticed the gleam in his son's eyes, for he positively beamed at him when he replied, "Of course." Hinrik nodded his head and offered the barest ghost of a smile before hurrying off. Stanford watched him depart and continued to stare at the door long after he'd disappeared through it, wondering if he was going to have a new future daughter-in-law by the end of the night.

…

Astrid stood at the apex of the bow, leaning heavily on the railing and staring down into the sea below. The sun was setting, throwing a beautiful golden-pink light over the ship, but she hardly noticed. Right now she hated anything and everything beautiful in the world. She hated herself most of all for allowing herself to walk into the trap she'd set for herself. She should have known better, yet she'd allowed him into her heart and now…

"Hello, Astrid."

Her heart leapt into her throat at the sound of his voice and she turned around. He stood a few paces back, his hair blowing in the wind, a small smile on his face.

"I changed my mind."

Astrid blinked, and then she smiled, her heart bounding in her chest at his words. How simple they were, yet how much they altered everything.

He stepped toward her. "Riley said you might be up—"

Astrid put a finger to her mouth and shushed him. Then she gestured for him to join her. "Come here."

Smiling, Hinrik did as told, stepping up to her and taking her hand in his. His palm was warm, whereas hers was a little cool from being exposed to the chilly evening air. He ran his thumb over her skin, and she suppressed a little shiver.

She smiled. "Last night, you told me that you'd like to fly."

Hinrik looked confused but said, "Yes."

Astrid stepped back, gently pulling him closer to the point of the bow. "Come fly with me," she offered.

When Hinrik still didn't get it, she giggled and let go of his hand, turning toward the rail and stepping up onto it. Remembering when he'd done the same thing a few nights ago, Hinrik gasped and reached out for her. "No!"

Astrid glanced back with a reassuring smile. "It's okay, Hinrik. Trust me."

Hinrik considered for a moment and then relaxed. "I trust you."

She held out her hand again, and he took it, stepping closer. "Come on," Astrid whispered. "Come fly with me."

Hinrik, still a little perplexed, stepped up onto the lowest rail so that he was positioned directly behind her. The closeness of their bodies made his heart quicken. Astrid grinned and held out her arms to the side. Hinrik hesitated and then imitated her, looking down at the girl in front of him uncertainly. Noticing his gaze, Astrid laughed softly and said, "Look, Hinrik. Look up."

Hinrik blinked and then looked. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. From his position it was easy to forget there was a ship beneath him. All he could see was ocean rushing past. The Atlantic unrolled toward him, an endless span of shimmering blue bathed in the golden light of the sun. With his arms outstretched and Astrid pressed against him, he really felt as if he had left the Titanic entirely, the two of them soaring off into the sunset with no one to stop them or tear them apart. For the first time in his life, Hinrik felt true, delicious freedom.

"Oh my God," he breathed. "We're flying."

Astrid hummed and nodded, resting her head back on his shoulder. She pushed her arms back slightly so that her hands brushed his, their fingertips first touching, and then intertwining. She felt him trembling, so lost in the ecstasy of weightlessness that he couldn't contain himself. His heart hammered against her spine, each beat a loving tap reminding her of how close he was, yet it wasn't close enough.

She started singing softly:

"My dearest one, my darling dear

Your mighty words astound me

But I've no need of mighty deeds…"

She gently pulled his hands forward so that they wrapped around her, holding her and cradling her.

"…When I feel your arms around me…"

Hinrik turned his head so that he was gazing into her face. She was mere inches away, her eyes soft and glowing, her lips slightly open, inviting. He hesitated for the briefest moment, an image of Heather's face intruding on his thoughts. But he pushed it aside and blocked it entirely. Now was not about Heather. He'd deal with all that later. Now it was just him and Astrid, the two of them here, almost joined but not quite.

He fixed that problem when he finally inched forward, his lips tentatively brushing hers. She responded immediately, kissing him with a fervor he hadn't known was possible. So he kissed her back, moving his mouth with hers, soft yet passionate. In that moment nothing else existed, not Heather, not Grant, not his mother's illness, not their class differences, not even the Titanic.

…

"Are you sure about this, Hinrik?" Astrid asked, glancing nervously over her shoulder as Hinrik unlocked his stateroom door. "This doesn't seem…proper…"

Hinrik gave her a rather wild, reckless smile and replied with a faint laugh, "There's nothing proper about this." He opened the door and ushered her inside. "Come on in. This is the sitting room."

"Sitting room?" Astrid repeated, gazing around in awe at the opulence. "It's bigger than my whole cabin! And I share it with two other people!"

"Yeah, well…first class…" Hinrik said with an awkward shrug. "Make yourself at home, milady."

Astrid giggled at the nickname and sat down gingerly on a couch. "Wow…this is nice," she acknowledged, looking around. "So elegant, regal…I feel like a queen in this room."

Hinrik grinned and bowed to her. "Is there anything I can do for you, Your Majesty?" he asked teasingly.

Astrid rolled her eyes and reached out to grab his arm, pulling him onto the couch beside her. "Yes. Come here, you."

Hinrik laughed as he took her into his arms, kissing her lightly. They broke apart and Astrid, grinning, shifted a little to make room for him. Her eyes fell on something lying on the table. "What's this?" she asked, picking it up.

"Oh…that's…my sketchbook," Hinrik said, sounding nervous. "Remember how I told you I like to draw? I pulled it out earlier to try to relieve some tension." He laughed hollowly. "It didn't work."

"May I?" Astrid asked, and when Hinrik nodded she opened the sketchbook. She gasped as she looked at a portrait of his father. It was accurate down to the finest detail. If she hadn't known better she'd have said it was a photograph. He was clearly a perfectionist: not a line was out of place. "Wow," she breathed. "Hinrik, this…this is amazing. You don't give yourself enough credit."

She flipped the page, revealing a sketch of an English manor house. Each line was perfectly straight and level, and she could feel the stateliness of the mansion leaping off the page. "And you told me you weren't very good!" she scoffed. "You're incredible! I take back what I said yesterday. You could totally make a living as an artist."

Hinrik laughed. "I'm glad you think so."

Astrid continued looking at his sketches for a while, ooh-ing and complimenting each one individually. She was particularly fond of one he'd drawn of a dragon, its wings spread in flight. There was such grace and elegance in the smooth lines, yet she also felt an underlying current of sheer power and strength.

After a moment, she smiled and handed the book back to him, even though she hadn't seen all the sketches yet. "Draw me," she said.

Hinrik's eyes widened. "What?"

"Do a sketch of me," Astrid clarified. "I want to see you at work."

Hinrik grinned and stood up. "Okay. I'll be right back. Find a comfortable position on that couch, I'll need you to hold still for a while."

She did as she was told, settling on relaxing back into the cushions, one arm resting carelessly on the armrest. Hinrik retreated into the bedroom and returned a moment later with a pencil in his hand. Grinning, he took a seat in a chair opposite the couch. "All right," he said with a breath. "Hold perfectly still for me. That's it. Keep your eyes on me." He nodded, satisfied, opened the book to a blank page, and started to sketch.

He started with faint strokes, the lines joining and interconnecting to form the vaguest suggestion of a human shape. He spent more time studying her than he did looking at the paper, yet his movements were certain and unhesitant. "So serious," Astrid teased, and he cracked a smile but didn't pause in his work.

His lines got darker as he started filling in the details, starting at her head and working his way down. He carefully drew the contours of her body, capturing each curve and dip with perfect accuracy. He sketched her fingers, imitating the way they rested so languidly on the armrest and in her lap. He shaded carefully in areas that were in shadow, the folds of her dress, the side of her face not exposed to the light. He perfectly copied the shape of her eyes and lips, capturing the faint smile she wore.

And he even managed to draw the spark that shone in her eyes, that light he loved so very much.

…

Milton walked up to where Heather sat in the first class lounge and said, "None of the stewards have seen him, miss."

Heather looked coldly up at him and huffed. In a low yet forceful voice she hissed, "This is absurd. It's a ship, there's only so many places he can be!" She sighed and, looking as though she was struggling to remain calm, asked, "Did you check his stateroom?"

"I tried to, miss," Milton replied. "But the door was locked and no one answered when I knocked."

Heather rolled her eyes. "Then go talk to Mr. Haddock and ask to borrow his key. Make up some excuse. Then go down there and check." She leaned forward slightly and added with a faint hint of menace, "Milton, if you value your job, find him!"

…

"Finished!" Hinrik announced, setting down his pencil.

Astrid stood up and stretched before hurrying over to stand beside him. Her eyes widened as she gazed down at her likeness. "Oh my God," she said. "That's…you're incredible, Hinrik!"

He smiled and carefully tore the page out of the book, standing up and handing the paper to her. "For you, milady." He grinned.

Astrid accepted the drawing, blushing yet clearly happy. "I'll treasure it always," she promised. She placed it down on the table so she could reach up and pull Hinrik close, kissing him, running her hands through his hair. Hinrik moaned quietly and wrapped his arms around her waist. Their bodies pressed together and their hearts pounded with excitement…

There was a knock at the door. "Mr. Haddock?" came Milton's wheezy voice from the hall. "Are you in there?"

They broke apart and looked at the door, frozen in sudden fear. The doorknob rattled, but Hinrik had been smart enough to lock it when they'd entered. They had a few seconds to act before Milton would have the key in. Hinrik motioned silently for Astrid to follow him into the bedroom, which she did. On the threshold she paused and looked back. "My drawing!" she gasped. She'd left it on the table, but there was no time to go back for it now. They could hear Milton turning the key in the lock.

Hinrik closed the bedroom door, trying to be silent but it clicked audibly just the same. Swearing under his breath, he led Astrid to the other door, which opened into the corridor. They hurried down the hallway toward the grand staircase, trying to look at ease while putting as much distance between themselves and Milton as they possibly could. They exchanged quick glances and grinned a little wildly.

They heard a door open and glanced back over their shoulders. Their grins quickly vanished: Milton was coming after them.

"Run!" Hinrik cried, seizing Astrid's hand and pulling her toward the staircase, laughing. Behind them, Milton cursed and broke into a slow jog, the fastest speed the old man could handle. Hinrik and Astrid hurtled toward a row of elevators, finding to their relief that one had just arrived and deposited an elderly couple, who looked on in wide-eyed bewilderment as the two young lovers darted past them into the lift. The operator gaped at them. "Down, take us down!" Hinrik ordered as Astrid pulled the gate shut. "Quickly!"

The operator obeyed and the elevator began to descend just as Milton arrived, slamming into the gate with a snarl. Hinrik and Astrid grinned up at him, and then Hinrik did something he'd been yearning to do since he'd first met the man: he lifted his middle finger. The operator looked flabbergasted but Astrid laughed.

The lift took them down to E Deck, where Hinrik and Astrid spilled out of it, giggling madly. They took off down the corridor, their hands joined, and hurtled down a stairwell to the very bottom. They didn't stop until they passed through a swinging door and hid behind it, peeking through a circular window to see if they'd been spotted.

"Pretty tough for a valet, this fella," Astrid remarked in between gasps for breath. "Seems more like a cop."

"I think he was," Hinrik replied, which made Astrid laugh again. Then he stiffened. "Uh-oh." Astrid followed his gaze and saw Milton through the little window. He'd seen them and was heading their way. "Go!"

They kept running, hurtling around a corner and right into a blind alley. Astrid cursed, but Hinrik spotted a door with a sign that read "Crew Only" and yanked it open. An awful roaring was coming from inside but this wasn't a time to be choosy. "Get in!" he cried, ushering Astrid through before ducking in after her. He slammed the door shut just as Milton reached it. The old man tugged on the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge. Hinrik had locked it from the other side. Thwarted, Milton bellowed, "You'll pay for this!" But neither Hinrik nor Astrid heard him.

A/N: I don't know if you've noticed it yet or not, but I'm not sticking entirely to the Cameron script with this. Even though Hinrik is the Rose character and Astrid is the Jack character, I see enough of both characters in each of them that, really, they're kind of interchangeable. This is why Hinrik is the one sketching Astrid instead of the other way around. I hope I'm not confusing anyone with my flip-flopping back and forth, but I'm trying my hardest to keep both Hinrik and Astrid in character.

And yes, I kept the sketching scene G-rated. These are characters from a family film franchise and I'm not comfortable undressing them. At all. So there will be no sex scene either.

Also, I don't think I've mentioned it yet, but I'm using the Illustrated Screenplay of the Cameron film for a good many of these scenes. So the dialogue that isn't in the film and even some of the descriptions are coming from that. Of course some bits are entirely my own, but most of it is being adapted either from the film or the original script. Just so you know.