Thank you for the reviews for the last chapter. And thank you to those who put in a scene idea. Here's the list:

The dinner scene

The 3rd class party scene

The flying scene, and the drawing scene (both one chapter)

The running from the ex-cop scene, the car scene and Jack's arrest. (All one chapter)

The beginning of the sinking, Jerry's hunt for him, and the scene where they're trapped from the gate, and the keys get dropped

The actual sinking

I'm not doing an aftermath, you'll see why when we get there. X-)

STORY UPDATES!

Haunted Hallway (chapter 2 posted)

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Title: Titanic: Jack/Jerry scene 2- Thank you

Summary: Jerry goes to thank Jack for saving his life, but soon he begins to think of him more than just a saviour.

All I could thing about was seeing him. Jack Anderson. But I couldn't, I was sat at another dinner in the dining room, with Kim, my father, and some 1st class snobs. Minus Molly of course. I liked her, she wasn't snobby like the rest of 1st class, she was cheerful, bubbly and always had a smile on her face. My father didn't like her at all, she was 'new money' whatever that meant.

But none of that mattered, I wanted to find Jack and thank him.

Wordlessly, I got up and walked out of the dining room. I decided to go back to my stateroom and get changed. I was wearing another goddamned suit. When I got there, I took the suit jacket off, and kept the shirt. Much like I did yesterday, except I ran my fingers through my hair, messing the gel up. I got one of my more simpler jackets off the rack, and walked back out.

As I got further towards steerage, I noticed the ship's interior was changing. When I passed 2nd class, the regal looking carpets were gone, but the posh door frames were still there, but on cream doors, not burgundy like the one for my stateroom. The people hadn't changed much, 2nd class people weren't as rich as 1st class, but they were slightly less snobby.

But when I reached 3rd class, everything was gone. It was pure white, the floor was a murky brown color, and the majority of the gates were locked, save the one I used to get down there. Even the doors looked different than the other class' ones. But so were the people, I could see the difference just by looking in their eyes.

They were so humble, and grateful for what little they had. As I kept walking, there was the sound of loud laughter, unlike 1st class, where it was as quiet as a tomb and accompanied by the sound of china clinking, and quiet orchestral music. What I wouldn't give to swap lives with one of them. I scanned the room for Jack, and sure enough he was there. He was sat on a bench and sketching something.

I walked over to him. "Hello, Mr. Brewer," I said.

"Hi Jerry.'' As Jack put his charcoal down and shut his book, I could tell he was surprised to see me, so were most of the 3rd class. I knew it was the first time any 1st class person had ever gone down.

"Can I talk to you?" I asked, suddenly feeling nervous. Why was I nervous?

"Sure," he said. Jack got up and followed me to the top deck. He was getting stares from the 1st class people, mostly men. I didn't know what they were thinking about him, but I could tell it wasn't good.

"So... what do you want to talk about?" Jack asked.

"You," I smiled, walking around the deck with him.

"Well, I grew up in San Diego where I started painting landscapes, and then when I was fifteen, my parents died. And since I didn't have any other family, I headed out of there and I haven't been back since," Jack said.

"So, what did you do?" I asked.

"I travelled here, there and everywhere from tramp steamers, selling a bunch of my paintings I'd had, and when the money from them had gone, I started playing poker to earn money," he smiled.

Why couldn't I be more like Jack? Free to make my own decisions, and head off whenever I wanted to. It was official. I envied him with a burning passion, but I didn't hate him. I don't think I could ever hate him. Jack and I sat down on nearby deck chairs.

"Okay Jerry, I've told you pretty much my entire life story, and we've walked around the entire deck. But I reckon that wasn't why you wanted to talk to me was it?" Damn it, he was on to me.

"I wanted to thank you for saving me last night," I said.

"You're welcome," Jack's expression had suddenly gone blank.

"Look, I know what you must be thinking! Poor little rich boy!"

"No actually, what I was thinking was, what could have happened to this man to make him think he had no other way out," he said. His eyes narrowed and he picked up my hand, looking at the ring. It was pure gold and very heavy. Kim's was gold with a large pearl on it.

"Holy shit!" Jack exclaimed. "You would've sunk like a rock," he joked, "who's the girl?"

"Kim Crawford," I said flatly.

"The daughter of that rich, steel person?" Jack asked. I nodded and almost laughed, he was to adorable for his own good. Wait, did I just think that?

"Five-hundred invitations have gone out. All of Philadelphia's society will be there. I just feel like I'm holding a gun to my head and no-one even cares or looks at me," I said miserably.

"Do you love her?" Jack asked.

Of course not! But I felt compelled to lie to him. I was only marrying her to pay off some debts my ,um left us. I was pretty sure Kim didn't love me either. And I was glad, that way it would be easier when I told them I wasn't going to marry her. If I could tell them that was.

"Excuse me?" I asked, hoping Jack wouldn't ask me again.

"Do you love her?" he repeated.

"Well, you're being very rude! You shouldn't be asking me this," I was hiding what I wanted to say, but I was almost on the verge of cracking, and I prayed the conversation would change soon.

"Well, it's a simple question; Do you love the girl or not?" Jack asked again. No Jack, I'm not even childhood friends with her, I thought glumly.

"Why can't you just answer the question?" he was frustrated with my silence.

"This is stupid! You don't know me and I don't know you and we can't have this type of conversation! You're rude, and I'm leaving now!" I shook his hand, trying to ignore the swimming feeling I was getting in my stomach.

"Jack, I sought you out to thank you and now I have thanked you so-" I began.

"And you've insulted me," he cut me off.

"Well, you deserved it!"

"Okay then," he agreed sarcastically, "I thought you were leaving," he comented.

"I am!" I turned around, and then back towards him, not really wanting to go.

"You are so annoying! And I don't have to leave! This is my part of the ship! You leave!" I pointed to the entrance which took me past the large clock when I went down to steerage.

"Well well, well." Jack said, sounding like a detective who had just solved a case. "Who's being rude now?" I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I snatched his reddish-brown book out of his hands.

"What's this stupid thing you're carrying around anyway?" I snapped.

I began to open it and saw sketches after sketches, all signed with the date they were drawn, and Jack Brewer was printed neatly in the corner. I went back to the first page to have a better look. It was a wolf. It was amazing. I touched it briefly to see if it was real, it looked remotely like a photo. Jack had shaded in the fur in such a way, it looked like the light was dancing off it. And it's eyes were a deep, bold shade of yellow paint.

I thought it was quite clever, using charcoal and paint. He was the only artist who had work like that... well the ones that I'd seen anyway. There were a few more drawings of wolves, there were packs, hunts, but the one that caught my eye, was the one of a mother with two cubs nestled into her paws.

"This is amazing," I declared softly. "Do you draw anything else?"

Jack didn't say anything, but reached across my lap and turned the page. I saw all different types of landscapes. I was beginning to think he was a mixture of Leonardo DiVinci, Pablo Picasso and Monet. Hell, I was certain he was. If he sold them to the right person, he would get a fortune, but maybe Jack didn't want to sell them.

The landscapes were done in a way I'd never seen before: They were made with paint, but when I looked closely enough, I saw that everything was made out of tiny dots, and the shades of green in the grass, made a faint J, which I wouldn't have noticed, had I not been looking as long as I had. The other landscapes were of hills, volcanoes, or just simple houses.

"Paris?" I said out loud as a sketch of the Eiffel Tower caught my eye. Jack nodded.

"You do get around! For a po-" I stopped mid-sentence. Not wanting to offend him.

"A poor guy, you can say it," he chuckled.

I turned my attention back to his drawings. This time there were families. They were so amazing and accurate, I felt as if I was looking at a real family. There was one of a man and a young girl with intertwined hands, and then on another part of the page, there was a close up of their hands.

I turned to the next page, and there was a shirtless man. I stole a glance at Jack, and he was looking away from me, making look like he had only turned around for a moment. He was probably blushing. I didn't know why he was, they were amazing. I kept looking through the drawings, and the same man kept popping up. I had a feeling Jack was gay, but I didn't know how to ask him. Instead I shook the thought from my brain.

"You liked this man. You used him several times," I pointed to the man as he turned up yet again, this time leaning against a wall, smoking. Jack had even drawn the little puff of smoke.

"Well, he had nice hands, you see," Jack pointed to his hands, which were around the cigarette.

"I think you must have had a love affair with him," I teased him. He blushed again.

"No, no, no, just with his hands. He was a one legged prostitute." My eyes widened and he laughed, "Okay I'm kidding, he was married anyway."

"Jack?" I asked, "are you um... uh... are you-" I couldn't say it.

"Gay?" he finished. "If I had a penny for every person who asked me that..." he muttered, I looked at him.

"I'd have a penny," Jack's face lit up in a smile, and we both cracked up laughing. "And yes I am, I'm not gonna deny it, or apologize about it."

"I wasn't going to say anything," I said innocently, "maybe I could be Gay too, maybe that's why I don't get along with Kim at all." The thought had crossed my mind a few times, but I'd never actually said it. I didn't know why I could talk to Jack so easily.

"Maybe," Jack agreed with me.

"Who's this lady?" I asked, looking at the book again, not realising I'd turned the page.

"She used to sit at this bar every night wearing every piece of jewellery she owned. Just... waiting for her long lost love. I called her Madame Bijoux. See her clothes are all moth eaten?" His fingers ghosted over the holes in her overcoat, and the way the feather on her hat was bent.

"You have a gift Jack, you do," I smiled at him, "you see people."

"I see you," he looked me in the eyes.

"And?" I asked, chuckling slightly.

"You wouldn't have jumped." The playful mood between us was gone. I quickly changed the subject.

"Hey, we should walk a little more."

"Okay," Jack nodded.

"Jack?" I asked.

"Hmm?" he looked at me as we were walking.

"I don't want to offend you, but how did you get your ticket?"

"I won it from a poker game," Jack shrugged.

"So, what did you do for money?" I asked. "Just play poker?"

"Not all the time. Once, I went down to Los Angeles to the pier in Santa Monica. That's a swell place, they even had a rollercoaster. I sketched portraits there for ten cents a piece," Jack answered.

"Say we'll go there sometime, even if we only just talk about it," I said.

"Nah, nah, we'll do it. We'll drink cheap beer and go on the rollercoaster until we throw up! And we'll ride horses on the beach. But, you don't look like the horse riding type," he chuckled.

I blushed. "Can you teach me?" I asked.

"Sure, if you like," he answered.

"Teach me to ride like a man," I said.

"And chew tobacco like a man," Jack said in a southern accent.

"And... spit like a man," I said, trying a southern accent.

"What? Nobody taught you that?" he asked, looking like he was about to keel over laughing.

"No."

Jack suddenly pulled me to the edge of the boat.

"Watch closely!" He arched his head and spat out onto the ocean. It went far and made a little splash as it hit the water.

"That's disgusting!" I yelled.

"Okay, your turn," he laughed, wiping some spit off his lip.

I spat really quickly, not wanting anyone to see me. It was pathetic, I knew I could do better than that, but from childhood experiences of me sneaking cookies from the jar, I was afraid my father was just around the corner, or worse... behind me.

"That was pitiful! You really got to hawk it up," Jack advised.

I hawked all I could until I felt a huge ball on my tongue. I arched my head back like he did, and it went further than his did, but it didn't make a splash.

"Better. Put some body to it this time!"

I was about to try, when I noticed my father and Kim, with Molly walking behind them. They stared at us in horror. I elbowed Jack sharply in the ribs and he turned around abruptly.

"Father, Kim, may I introduce Jack Brewer. He'll be coming to dinner with us tonight."

"Hello," Kim smiled at him, and he gave her a small wave.

"Charmed I'm sure," father responded dryly.

"John told me what you did, and well Jack, it sounds like you're a good man to have around in sticky spot-" Molly started to say. Out of nowhere, the dinner horn was blown, making Jack jump and I laughed quietly.

"Why do they insist on always announcing dinner like a damn cavalry charge?" Molly complained loudly to some passing officers, making Jack and I laugh.

"Come on Jerry, we need to dress," father said.

"Bye Jack, see you at dinner!" I waved to him and Molly was already talking to him.

So that's it for this chapter, remember to review. :P