Carpathia lurched over a wave just as Lovejoy lifted his cup to take his first sip of tea. The liquid sloshed over the rim of the cup and onto his trouser leg. "Bloody hell," he muttered, setting the cup on the table and brushing furiously at the damp patch. "I can't seem to catch a break."

Brighid grabbed a napkin and began to scrub at the sodden fabric covering Lovejoy's thigh.

Lovejoy felt his eyes glaze over. "Darling, do be careful."

Brighi smiled as she worked. "Can't have people thinking you had a 'little accident'."

"I did have a bloody accident. Look, it'll dry by itself." Lovejoy pulled her hand away from his leg, clasped his fingers around it. "Please, Brig. You're getting me all worked up."

Brighid saw the look in his eyes and blushed deep red. Then she chuckled throatliy, not helping him at all. "What a pity the cabin's occupied," she said with a wink.

With a look of despair, Lovejoy tried to ignore the blatant come-on and returned his attention to the tea. He managed to take a hefty swallow of the delicious nectar before Carpathia hit another wave. The occupants of the lounge lurched sideways and the hum of conversation stuttered and grew louder, more frantic.

Once more, crewmembers arrived to assure everyone there was no danger. They were encountering another squall. A pilot ship was being sent out to escort them to New York and it wouldn't be long before they docked. She's been weathering storms since 1903, they said proudly of their stoic little ship. And no doubt she'll be weathering them for many years to come.

Brighid pulled her chair closer to Lovejoy's and held his hand under their little corner table. "Hear that, my love? They're sending out a ship. We must be nearly there."

"I'd say sometime tomorrow," Lovejoy replied, enjoying the warmth seeping up his arm.

She turned to him and gazed into his eyes. "What's the first thing you're going to do when we land?"

"Kiss the ground," he said promptly. "Lie spreadeagled on it and defy anyone to unglue me. I am never setting foot on another floating vessel as long as I live."

She smiled sympathetically. "Not even a rowboat on a nice, calm lake?"

"Not even that."

"Well, there go all my romantic holiday dreams. You and me, drifting along under a warm, summer sun... no one else around... "

He grunted. "All right. We'll see."

She laughed softly, resting her head on his shoulder. "Everything we've been through feels like a dream. A strange, nightmarish, unreal thing, preventing me from waking up."

"I assure you it's very real. The unsinkable Titanic did just that."

She put her other hand on top of their clasped hands. "And we met. I'm glad that part is real."

"Yes. So am I."

She nestled her cheek more comfortably against the fabric of his jacket and Lovejoy listeed to her quietly singing. "A ship there is and she sails the sea. She's loaded deep as deep can be, But not so deep as the love I'm in. I know not if I sink or swim."

He heard the sentiment. He heard the word love. He connected the word to her feelings as she sang. It was a new experience for him- connecting a feeling to someone else. The magnitude of that word, coming from her and applied to him, was somewhat overwhelming. He reached for his tea and pretended to drink it casually while her lilting voice took over every single machination of his weary body. She was controlling his arm, she sent the tea into his mouth and down his throat. She was responsible for keeping it down even though he felt like spewing it out across the table. He wasn't sure love was supposed to make you vomit so he put it down to the increasing up, down and sideways motion of Carpathia. He picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth, and then his brow. The back of his neck was prickling again.

"Give me a boat that can carry two, and both shall row, my love and I."

Carpathia tilted again, rattling teacups and pressing Brighid and Lovejoy together. "Imagine what this must be doing for Rose and Jack," Brighid said innocently.

Lovejoy disengaged his fingers from hers and slipped his arm discreetly around her waist. "Calm down, woman."

"Calm down with your arm around me? I shall be perched on your lap in a minute!"

"I'd expect nothing less from a strumpet like you."

Lovejoy's face was so straight Brighid had to poke him in the ribs to get a reaction. He smiled villainously. She nestled into his side.

"Have faith that things will work out, Spicer. With the grace of God, we shall be all right."

Lovejoy sighed. "Not God again. Where was He the other night?"

"God didn't put the iceberg in front of us, in case that's what you were thinking."

"Brighid, I don't think of God at all. You and Jack both have more sense than to believe in a man who lives in the clouds. I think that's where your heads must be, most of the time."

"Don't insult my faith. Besides, God gave us free will. He wasn't steering the ship. You have to realise, Spicer. In the beginning, God gave us everything we needed. But it wasn't enough for us. We went our own way. We started doing things it was only God's place to do. Now He's letting us learn from our mistakes."

"And pay a hefty price, too," Lovejoy muttered. "Fancy sitting up there in Heaven watching children drown."

"No, Spicer. He gathered those poor children up and took them to a better place."

"Poppycock." Lovejoy remembered Brighid's nephew. He shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I am sorry. I'm a cynical old wretch. I didn't mean to insult the memory of your Michael. I just don't understand blind faith in something that hasn't been proved to exist."

"I guarantee you my love, one day something will happen to make you believe."

He kissed the top of her head, silently wondering if it hadn't already happened.

They settled into an easy silence. Carpathia bucked and rolled, causing some seasickness among the passengers. Lovejoy closed his eyes to quell the bubbling in his stomach. He knew it wasn''t all because of the storm. Brighid was warm against him. He was relutant to let go of her, despite the callous image he'd presented to Jack.

"Do you think things will change very much once we're ashore?" he asked, tentatively.

"Do you mean, between us?"

He nodded.

"I've been wondering too," she confessed. "And so has Rose."

"So has Jack. He's afraid he'll lose her."

"I'm afraid I'll lose you," she said, softly. "I'm well aware we wouldn't be together had the Titanic not gone down. We're so different, you and me. I'm the sort you and your master Hockley would have swept into the gutter as you passed."

"And you're the sort who'd steal my wallet as I went."

"Anything to get my dirty hand into your pocket."

Lovejoy chuckled. "If there's one thing keeping us together, it's that."

"Ah, but that's not everything."

"So I've been told. Well, I suppose I'll learn the rest of it as we go along."

She smiled. There was a depth in her gaze that touched his soul, and not for the first time. "Be honest with me, Spicer. Do you see a future for us?"

The ship rocked again. Cups fell out of saucers, Lovejoy caught one as it rolled off the table. "This is getting ridiculous," he muttered.

"Please answer me, Spicer."

Her voice was warm and soft, not pushy or demanding. Lovejoy turned the cup onto its saucer and sighed. There was no getting out of this. She expected, and deserved, the security his answer would give her.

"Yes," he said, straightening the teaspoon. "I see a future for us."

Brighid released the tension he wasn't even aware she'd been holding. She relaxed against him and hugged his arm as though he were the last life preserver from the Titanic.

"You don't know how happy I am to hear you say that," she confessed. Then, after looking at his face, she became concerned. "Oh heck, Spicer, ye look a little pale. You're not going to be sick, are ye?"

Closing his eyes, Lovejoy shook his head wordlessly. He wiped the back of his hand across his brow, pushing back a damp strand of hair. "Sudden turn for the worse," he mumbled.

Brighid looked around for a crewman. Typically, there were none to be seen. She tried pulling Lovejoy to his feet. "We'll go up on deck. You need to get your bearings."

Lovejoy followed her on legs that felt like jelly. He didn't know what had come over him. Was it the storm? Was he seasick? Or was it the fact that he'd pretty much committed himself to this woman without meaning to? He, Spicer Lovejoy, the man with no emotions, no empathy, no sympathy, had just thrown away his autonomy like a carefree child without regard for the consequences. Who was this stranger dwelling inside him now?

They found a crewman in the passageway who helped Brighid usher Lovejoy to a deckchair under cover of the wheelhouse. There they could stay out of the wind and rain whilst taking the fresh, cool air and watching the undulating horizon. "At least now you know which way is up," the man said with an understanding smile. "You get settled and I'll fetch you some liver salts. There's a lot of sickness going around- if I could apologise for the weather, I would."

With the sting of ocean spray on his face, Lovejoy immediately felt better. He and Brighid wrapped blankets around themselves and huddled together to ride out the storm.

"I'm so sorry to drag you out here," he said. "I don't know what came over me. I must be getting old."

"I think I pushed you a little too far."

He stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"Well. I pressed for an answer you weren't ready to give. I'm the one who should be apologizing."

Lovejoy wrapped his arms around her under the blankets, allowing her to rest her head next to his. "No, no. Don't be silly. You haven't done anything wrong." His lips moved against her hair as he spoke.

"I was thinking too far ahead. After what we just went through, I ought to know better."

"Nobody could have predicted Titanic. Great tragedies like that are not the norm. We can still plan for the future. In fact, it's common sense, really. I don't blame you in the slightest for wanting to know if I'll stay with you. And the answer is yes. Yes, I will stay with you. Of course I will."

Her hand snaked out of the blanket and stroked his cheek. "I'll never put you under any pressure. I can look after myself, you know that." She lifted her head to smile at him. "I like having you around, that's all."

Lovejoy smiled back. "It doesn't need to be any more complicated than that, does it?"

She rubbed the tip of her nose against his, sending all kinds of tingles coursing through his body. "No, my love. It doesn't."

Carpathia bumped into a large wave and another curtain of spray whooshed past. But Lovejoy, lost in the warmth of Brighid's lips and the love she clearly felt for him, didn't notice.

oOoOoOo

Rose gave one, last strangled gasp of joy and then Jack rolled off her to lay panting by her side. The motion of Carpathia had assisted them in an intense bout of lovemaking that took their breath away with every rise and fall, plunging into troughs between waves while the young lovers twined around each other, slippery with sweat. Completely lost in the moment, they had soared to great heights together, two albatross paired for life, gliding through the sky, unburdened by grief or doubt.

"I love you, Rose Dawson," gasped Jack, in between ragged puffs.

"I love you too, Jack Dawson."

Unlike Lovejoy, neither of them felt any shame or embarrassment in declaring their love for one another. Their love belonged to them- they owned it, they nurtured it, and they defied anyone to take it away. Theirs was the fierce, defensive love of youth. The kind of love no-one else understood. For who but Jack had loved every precious contour of Rose's body, and who but Rose had gazed into the very core of Jack's soul? They were twin flames. Soulmates. It must have been destiny, because it had come at a hefty price. Just like all the great lovers throughout history, others had suffered and died so that they could be together.

"Do you feel bad that we made love on both Titanic and her rescue ship?" asked Jack, turning his head on the pillow.

"I should do, but I don't. I think we've done a beautiful thing."

Jack chuckled. He reached up with one hand and played with long, curling ropes of vibrant red hair. "I hope I get to make love with you for the rest of my life."

Rose's green eyes melted into his heart. "You will."

Reassured, Jack returned his gaze to the ceiling, basking in the buzzing warmth of afterglow. "It's horrible to say it, but I've never felt so alive as I do now."

"Me too," said Rose, nuzzling her cheek against his hand.

"I mean, if Fabrizio had lived and I had died, I'd be happy for him and Helga."

"Jack," said Rose, softly. "Don't beat yourself up."

"I'm not. OK, I'm trying not to." Jack hoisted himself onto his elbow and looked down at her face. God, how he loved her. "You're the most important person in the world to me, Rose Dawson. Don't let me lose you, too."

Rose drifted a fingertip across his kiss-bruised lips. "You won't lose me, and I won't lose you. Think of all the adventures we're going to have. Flying, horse riding, the world will be our oyster. We'll honor our friends, Jack. Everywhere we go, everything we do, we'll do it in honor of them."

With the happiest, brightest smile that Rose had ever seen, Jack scooped her into his arms and kissed her passionately.

"Where to miss?" he breathed into her neck.

"To the stars," she replied, pulling him on top of her. "To the stars!"