"Oh, you're in my veins
And I cannot get you out
Oh, you're all I taste
At night inside of my mouth
Oh, you run away
'Cause I am not what you found
Oh, you're in my veins
And I cannot get you out."

-Andrew Belle, In My Veins

April 13, 1912, in the third class general room

As Sammy and Tommy sat in the general room with Cora again, the trio saw a man get out his uilleann pipes. "What d'ya reckon is happenin'?" Tommy asked. She shrugged. "A party!" exclaimed little Cora excitedly. "It's to celebrate making a new life in America!" She sat down on the bench next to Sammy. "Will you tell us a story?"

"I only really know one good one off the top of my head," Sammy said.

"Tell it! Please?"

As before, the room went quiet. Emily, the other little girl Sammy had befriended sat down at her feet. Her brother joined her, and soon a gaggle of children was sitting around her expectantly. So she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, recalling the dialogue from the film Dreamkeeper from which she had learned the story.

"I shall tell it to you as it was told to me. There was a woman who lived among the Haudenosaunee with her parents named She Crosses the Water. One day, as she was gathering the crop from the cornfields, a clap of thunder sounded. Fog crept into the cornfield and enveloped She Crosses the Water."

"What happened next?" one little boy asked. Sammy gave the youngster a playful smile. "If you let me, I'll tell you."

"She Crosses the Water didn't know it, but this was no ordinary fog. It was the Thunder Spirit, who had fallen in love with her, trying to summon her to him. Sky Woman spoke from above and summoned him, but he wouldn't go. His love for She Crosses the Water was too great for him to even consider letting her go from him, and she woke up in the land of Sky Woman. There was a small river with a canoe docked nearby, and a thunder being was standing inside the canoe.

"'Don't be frightened,' said the Thunder Spirit, voice crackling like the thunder he controlled. He told her of his love for her, and how he watched her longhouse until the last flame had been extinguished. He offered her a life in the land of Sky Woman, and she accepted.

"She Crosses the Water was happy in the land of Sky Woman. Thunder sent down other spirits to the cornfield so that she could eat of her own kind."

"But she soon discovered that she was due to have a baby, and Sky Woman informed her that she couldn't have the child in the Sky World and that if anyone ever struck the child, he would be lost to her."

"So Thunder Spirit sent his wife back down to live with her own people. They welcomed her back but never truly believed her story about her son, whose name was Thunder Boy, being the son of the Thunder Being. They thought the child's father was a member of a neighboring tribe."

"One day, as She Crosses the Water went to work the cornfields, she left Thunder Boy in the care of his grandmother. Thunder Boy began to misbehave, making a noise like the thunder for which he was named, and his grandmother struck him. He ran into the forest, never to be seen again. His mother sang to him in every thunderstorm for the rest of her life, never forgetting her son or his father."

Unbeknownst to Sammy and the young ones, Tommy had been standing nearby enough to hear his love interest tell the enchanting story. It was a love story she was telling, about a thunder spirit and his wife and child. She was such a kind, sweet girl who seemed to make friends with everyone she met.

The sound of someone clapping jolted Sammy out of her reverie. "Where didja learn such a tale?" asked an impressed Tommy. "Hey, Tommy the Terrific! How goes it? I learned it from a film called Dreamkeeper," she said. She turned to the children. "Why don't you kiddos go play?"

Once they were free of any young children, Tommy looked at the small brunette. "Ya have a gift fer storytellin'," he said. Sammy smiled, and she blushed a little. "I'm not sure where it comes from."

"Such a sad tale though," Tommy said. "Couldn't it have had a happier endin'?"

Sammy looked at him then, a sad look in her beautiful green eyes. "We must all lose what we love sometimes. It is the way."

Tommy sensed a sadness about her, this intelligent, sweet, spunky American girl who had somehow wormed her way into his heart and his mind. He wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her somehow. But he barely knew her, and he wasn't sure if it was his place.

Sammy's cabin, the same night

She couldn't wait to dance the night away with her new friends.

Even though she was a chance she wouldn't survive the sinking of the Titanic, Sammy had to at least try to get back to her New York City. But instead of dwelling on that, Sammy focused on the fun she would have.

Meanwhile, up among the first-class swells, Molly had lent Jack a tuxedo she had originally bought for her son. "I was right!" she crowed. "You and my son are just about the same size."

"Pretty close," Jack agreed, straightening his bow tie. "You shine up like a new penny," said Molly, giving him a sardonic laugh.

Over on the Grand Staircase, Jack mentally prepared himself to enter the first-class world. A steward held the door open for him. "Good evening, sir."

Jack kept his cool but was shocked. No one had ever called him sir in the whole of his life.

"Did you know that there are several thousand tons of Hockley steel in this very ship?" Cal said to Ruth. "Hmmm, which parts?" asked Ruth. "Only the right ones, of course," Cal bragged. "Then we'll know who to hold accountable if there's a problem," said Ruth smugly. "Where's my daughter?"

"Oh, she'll be along," said Cal dismissively. "And there is the Countess. Hello, dear!"

"Good evening, Cal," said the Countess of Rothes. "So good to see you," said Cal.

As Rose descended the stairs in a long black and red evening gown, she looked to Jack. Surreptitiously, he kissed her hand. "I saw that in a nickelodeon once and I always wanted to do it."

She took his outstretched arm and tapped Cal on the shoulder. "Darling, surely you remember Mr. Dawson?"

Cal looked at Jack in awe. "Dawson? Why, that's amazing! You could almost pass for a gentleman."

"Almost," said Jack. "Extraordinary," said Cal again, taking Ruth's arm. As they all went into Cafe Parisien, the ship's first-class restaurant, Rose told Jack all about the people in first class. "There's the Countess of Rothes. And that's John Jacob Astor, the richest man on the ship. His little wifey there Madeline's my age and in delicate condition. See how she's trying to hide it? Quite the scandal. And that's Benjamin Guggenheim and his mistress Madame Aubert. Mrs. Guggenheim is at home with the children of course, and over here we have Sir Cosmo and Lucille Lady Duff Gordon. She designs naughty lingerie, among her many talents. Very popular with the royals."

"Congratulations, Hockley, she's splendid," said Sir Duff Gordon. "Why, thank you," Cal bragged.

"Care to escort a lady to dinner?" asked Molly. "Certainly!" exclaimed Jack.

"Sweetpea, sweetpea?" Cal called to Rose over his shoulder, trying to make sure she was still there. Molly gave the two of them a look. "Ain't nothing to it, is there, Jack? Remember, they love money, so pretend like you own a gold mine and you're in the club. Hey, Astor!"

That's easy enough to remember, thought Jack.

"Well hello Molly," JJ Astor greeted. "Nice to see you."

"JJ, Madeline, I'd like you to meet Jack Dawson," Rose introduced. "How do you do?" Madeline asked politely. "Pleasure," Jack replied, shaking her hand.

"Well, Jack, are you of the Boston Dawsons?" JJ asked curiously.

"No, the Chippewa Falls Dawsons actually," Jack told Mr. Astor, unsure what he meant but still determined to blend in as much as possible.

He must have been nervous, but he never faltered. They assumed he was one of them. Heir to a railroad fortune, perhaps. New money obviously, but still a member of the club.

Ruth, of course, could always be counted upon. "Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Dawson. I hear they're quite good on this ship." Molly glared at her.

Jack saw right through her snub and decided to have a little fun with it. "The best I've seen, ma'am. Hardly any rats."

At this, everyone laughed uncontrollably. "Mr. Dawson is joining us from the third class," explained Cal. "He was of some assistance to my fiance last night."

"It turns out Mr. Dawson is quite a fine artist," Rose commented. "He was kind enough to show me some of his work today."

"Rose and I differ somewhat in our definition of fine art," said Cal drily. "Not to impugn your work, sir." Jack shrugged to show he didn't mind.

"She may be mine on paper, but in the eyes of God, she belongs to Thomas Andrews," Mr. Ismay was saying. "Are these all for me?" Jack asked in an undertone to Molly, gesturing to all the silverware. "Just start on the outside and work your way in," she muttered. "He knows every rivet in her, don't you, Thomas?" said Mr. Ismay.

"Indeed," Mr. Andrews agreed.

Rose put her fork down. "Your ship is a wonder, Mr. Andrews, truly." Andrews smiled. "Thank you, Rose."

"And how do you take your caviar, sir?" a waiter asked Jack. He shot Rose a secret glance. "No caviar for me, thanks. Never did like it much."

"And where exactly do you live, Mr. Dawson?" asked Ruth.

"Well right now, my address is the RMS Titanic. After that I'm on God's good humor!" he told Ruth. "And how is it you have means to travel?" asked Ruth.

"I work my way from place to place. You know, tramp steamers and such. But I won my ticket on Titanic here in a lucky hand at poker. A very lucky hand," he said, nodding to Rose, who blushed.

"All life is a game of luck," Gracie commented. "A real man makes his own luck, Archie. Right, Dawson?" said Cal.

"And you find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?" said Ruth, her feathers ruffled. Molly Brown narrowed her eyes in anger.

"Well, yes, ma'am, I do... I mean, I got everything I need right here with me. I got the air in my lungs, a few blank sheets of paper. I mean, I love waking up in the morning not knowing what's gonna happen or, who I'm gonna meet, where I'm gonna wind up. Just the other night I was sleeping under a bridge and now here I am on the grandest ship in the world having champagne with you fine people. I'll take some more of that," he said to the waiter.

"I figure life's a gift, and I don't intend on wasting it. You never know what hand you're gonna get dealt next. You learn to take life as it comes at you. Oh, here you go Cal," Jack said, tossing Cal's lighter back to him. "To make each day count," he continued.

"Well said, Jack," Molly complimented. "Hear, hear!" Gracie echoed. Rose held up her champagne glass. "To making it count."

Everyone clinked glasses. "To making it count!"

Meanwhile, back down in steerage, Sammy sat with Tommy and Fabrizio reading Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. "I wonder what Jack is eating up in first class?"

Fabrizio was confused. "Jack is in'a first class?"

Sammy set her book down. "Yeah! Remember that girl up on A deck we saw him staring at? Well, apparently he stopped her from ending her own life. Jack said she was feeling so overwhelmed that she wanted to end it all by jumping off the back of the ship."

"Blimey, who could possibly hate their life that much?" Tommy wondered. Sammy gave him a look that only those who are in pain have. "You'd be surprised, Tommy. There are some folk who feel like they have nothing even if they have everything."

"What makes ya say that?" asked Tommy. "When I was four, my parents and my brother died in a car crash. I felt like it was my fault because I distracted my dad while he was driving and that's what caused the truck to swerve into our lane. But it wasn't true. The guy was drunk and ran a red light. Still, there were times when I wanted to die too. The guilt was eating me alive and I wanted to end it just like Jack's redheaded friend did," she explained.

So this explained the heaviness Tommy had sensed on Sammy's heart earlier. "Ya can't blame yerself, lass," he told her gently.

"I am'a sorry, signorina," said Fabrizio sincerely. "Don't," she said, a steely look in her eye. "Don't you dare feel sorry for me. I love my life, and as much as losing my family hurt, I'm grateful for it all. Loss does teach you things, after all."

The steerage band had started to play. "All right lads, grab your girls, Humors of Glendart. One, two, three, go!" Eugene Daly called out. A fast and fun song began to play. Sammy drained her beer glass in a single gulp and smiled. Where has this been all my life?

Up in first class, Molly was telling a story about the time she had accidentally cooked 4500 dollars. "And Mr. Brown had no idea I'd hidden the money in the stove! So he comes home drunk as a pig, celebrating, and he lights the fire!" Everyone burst out into peals of laughter.

"Next it'll be cigars and brandies in the smoking room," Rose muttered to Jack. "Well, join me in a brandy, gentlemen?" said Gracie. Rose shot Jack an I-told-you-so look.

"Now they're going to retreat into a cloud of smoke and congratulate each other on being masters of the universe," said Rose. "Ladies, thank you for the pleasure of your company," said Ismay.

"Would you like me to escort you back to the cabin?" asked Cal. "No, I'll stay here," replied Rose. "Here you go Molly," said Jack, handing her the pen and pad of paper he had borrowed.

"Joining us, Dawson? Why, you don't want to stay out here with the women, do you?" Gracie joked. Jack grinned. "No thanks, I've gotta be heading back."

"Probably best. Be all business and politics, that sort of thing. Wouldn't interest you," said Cal. "Oh, but Dawson? Good of you to come."

"Jack, must you go?" asked Rose sadly. "Time for me to go row with the other slaves," he joked, kissing her hand and surreptitiously handing her a note in the process. "Goodnight, Rose."

Once Jack and the other men were out of earshot, Rose opened his note.

Make it count. Meet me at the clock.

Rose went up the stairs and took a deep breath. Jack turned. "So you wanna go to a real party?"

That night, all of steerage was in attendance at the party. Eugene Daly was playing some kind of bagpipe, a second man had clappers, a third was banging away on a bodhran, and there was a female fiddler.

In came Jack and Rose, who were wearing a tuxedo and a fancy sort of evening dress. Sammy couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship of whoever it had been that had done the beadwork on the beautiful red and black gown.

"Whoa, Jack, I'm impressed! You look like a million bucks!" said Sammy in awe. She faced Rose and introduced herself and the others. "This is Fabrizio, Helga, Tommy, and me, Sammy. What's your name?"

"Guys, this is Rose, the girl I told you about," said Jack. Cora scampered over. "Uncle Jack! Dance with me!"

He looked at Rose, who nodded. "Go, Jack, go. I'll be fine here."

Tommy grinned. "Pleased to meet ya, lass!"

Rose looked uncomfortable, so Sammy offered her a beer. "Not used to us yet, are ya?" Rose shook her head. "As long as no one stares at me again, I'm happy." Sammy grimaced. "Sorry about that, by the way. I'd guess most of the people down here have never been further than a day's walk from the place where they were born before boarding this ship. None of us are really used to swells wanting anything to do with us. But I promise, all the steerage people I've met have been super nice."

"That's good to know. So who are you traveling with?" asked Rose. "Jack and our other friend Fabrizio found me in a pub in Southampton and we played poker against some drunk Swedes. Jack has a damn good poker face. He was the one who won the tickets for him, Fabrizio, and me," said Sammy.

"My mother and I are going back to America with my fiance and his valet and our maid. But I'd rather be an artist," said Rose. "Your dress is really beautiful, by the way. Did you make it yourself?" asked Sammy.

"Oh, heavens, no! It was made in Paris," said Rose. As the two young women bonded, Sammy sensed that Rose wasn't the stuck-up snob that everyone in steerage assumed someone from her circle to be. She seemed sweet if a little unsure of herself.

The Swedish Gunderson brothers Olaus and Bjorn were dancing up on the podium in a circle with hands clasped together.

A few feet over, Fabrizio was trying to dance with Helga. "Is okay I put my hand here?" he asked, pointing to her waist. She nodded. "Okay!"

Bjorn came over to their table, apparently drunk as Rose and Sammy were clapping along to the beat of the music. "Talar froken Svenska?" he slurred.

"What?"

He repeated himself. "I can't understand you!" said Rose. "Yeah, g'way, Bjorn!" said Sammy, slightly buzzed. Tommy set down three beers and Sammy took a sip. It was bitter, but just the kind of buzz she needed.

He took out a set of matches and a small cigarette box made of silver. He took out two cigarettes and handed one to Sammy. "D'ya want one?"

She reached for the cigarette, knowing it wasn't a good or healthy habit. But she'd always been curious as to what it was like to smoke. Surely one or two puffs wouldn't do any permanent damage.

Tommy lit it for her, and she took a puff. Immediately, her eyes watered and she broke down in a fit of coughing. Tommy clamped her on the back.

"What the hell is in that freakin' thing?" Sammy gasped. He stifled a laugh and kept patting her back until she could breathe again.

She took another puff, and this time it went down easier. Soon, she was smoking like a pro.

Tommy was puzzled by this girl. She wasn't just a free spirit, she was almost like one of the fair folk of old. The things she said and did baffled him. He didn't understand her a bit.

Jack twirled Cora around one last time. "I'm gonna dance with her now, all right?" said the artist, who had been dancing with little Cora. He pointed to Rose.

"What?" she asked. "Come on, come with me," said Jack. "What? Jack, Jack, wait! I can't do this," said Rose fearfully. Jack ignored her. "We're gonna have to get a little bit closer, like this," he instructed, putting a hand on her waist and pulled her in. Rose gasped.

Cora gave Rose a dirty look. "You're still my best girl, Cora," said Jack. She grinned and scampered off. "I don't know the steps!" said Rose. "Neither do I, just go with it. Don't think!" Jack said over the din.

Sammy watched as Fabrizio danced and flirted with Helga on the podium. Those two are so cute.

"Wait, Jack, Jack, wait! Stop, Jack, wait!" cried Rose, afraid of going so fast. "Wait!"

Jack pulled Rose onto the podium, where he showed off by doing a little tap dance. Rose retaliated by imitating him and soon it was an all-out dance battle, which Rose won. They started to do a kind of maypole dance. "Jack, no!"

As the band switched from John Ryan's Polka to The Kesh Jig, Jack grabbed beers for himself and Rose. Tommy and Bjorn were arm wrestling, with Sammy and a few other Irishmen behind him. "Come on, Tommy boy, show him how it's done!" Sammy cheered, clapping him on the shoulder, and he swelled a little inside at hearing her encouragement. It felt nice to be supported.

Bjorn promptly slaughtered him. Bjorn and his Swedish buddies cheered drunkenly. "Two outta three! Two outta three!" Tommy insisted. "Turncoat bastard!" said Sammy.

"So!" said Rose, taking Tommy's cigarette right out of Tommy's mouth and putting it in hers. "You think you're big, tough men? Let's see you do THIS!" She gave Jack the slip train of her gorgeous dress. "Hold this for me, Jack. Hold it up!" she instructed. Slowly she rose on her toes in a would-be ballet move. Sammy, Tommy, and Bjorn looked on, impressed. Rose managed to stay like that for all of two seconds before collapsing. "OW!"

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," said one Irish lady in wonder. "Wow, you are something else," said Sammy. It was true; she'd never seen anything quite like it. "Are you all right?" Jack asked. Rose giggled. "I haven't done that in years!"

"Drowsy Maggie, lads, give it a hurry!" called Eugene Daly. The band struck up a tune, and Helga, who had been talking to a friend, pulled Fabrizio into a sort of conga line. Fabrizio took Rose's hand, bringing her into it too. "Yay! We dance! Andiamo, andiamo!"

As Jack walked Rose back up to first class, she began to hum her favorite song. Jack caught on and the two started singing together.

"Come Josephine in my flying machine going up she goes! Up she goes! Something about a bird on a beam in the air she goes! Where? There she goes!"

They came to the first class entrance, and Rose's smile faded a little. "Here we are."

"Right," said Jack, disappointed. "I don't want to go back," Rose confessed. She looked up at the night sky, toward the stars. "Look, it's so beautiful."

"Yeah, Jack breathed. "So vast and endless, but they're so small!" Rose commented. "My crowd, they think they're giants. But they're not even dust in God's eye."

"You know, there's been a mistake," Jack pointed out, a teasing smile on his face. "You're not one of them. You got mailed to the wrong address."

Rose giggled at the not-so-outlandish thought. "I did, didn't I? Look, a shooting star!"

"It's a long one," said Jack. "You know, my pops used to tell me every time we saw one it was a soul going to heaven."

"I like that. Are we supposed to wish on it?" Rose asked. Jack looked at her then, seriousness in his eyes. "Why? What would you wish for?"

A pause ensued, the Rose spoke up again, this time sadly and more quietly. "Something I can't have."

You, Jack. I want you.

Sammy slipped Tommy's hand into hers and he spun her around in time to the music. She had a lot of fun dancing with him and loved to see him laugh and smile. "Well, well. Tommy Ryan, you are a sight for sore eyes!"

He chuckled. "Pot, meet kettle."

Twirling her around, he asked, "So have ya ever been on a ship before?"

"No, mostly sailboats, rowboats, and the like. My Uncle Jon owned a sailboat and named it after me, actually. The Catherine," she told him. "Were the two of yous close?" he asked, interested in her story.

"Oh yeah, we were. After I lost my family in the accident, he adopted me. We were never super-wealthy, him and me, but we were happy enough. He loved me like his own, getting me piano lessons and helping me with my homework as a child," she said. The song had stopped by now, so the two of them sat down at a table. Tommy saw a steward carrying a platter with glasses of beer on it and snagged two. He handed it to Sammy, and the two started sipping at their drinks.

"All right, lads, Cullybacky Hop! Let's go!" called Eugene. Sammy went over to Bjorn. "Bjorn. Hey, Bjorn! Ya beat Tommy, but can ya beat me?" The Swede grinned. "Vi see!"

It took a couple of tries, but she did beat him. She beamed at Tommy. "How's that for your two outta three, eh?" she gloated. "Ah, yer just showin' off now!" said the Irishman. She stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed another beer, draining it a single gulp.

"Can I talk to ya outside?" he asked hopefully. Sammy thought it over. "All right!"

"So what was it you were wantin' to say?" she asked as they walked down the steerage corridors arm in arm, blasting music fading with each step. Tommy sighed. "I was hopin' to ask ya for some advice."

He noticed her shivering and took off his coat, putting it on her. Sammy smiled, and the sight of her sweet smile warmed him to the backbone. It was like having a glimpse of heaven. "Thank you. What's up?"

"Well there's this lass," he began. Sammy laughed. "Isn't there always a girl?"

"Don't tease!" said a rather embarrassed Tommy. This was not going as planned.

Sammy stopped laughing. "I'm sorry. Go on. What's she like?" she asked kindly.

"She's...one in a million. She's kind, and beautiful and funny, and sometimes a little odd," said Tommy. "But one thing's fer sure; she's a real beauty, inside and out."

"So what's the problem?" Sammy asked, curious.

"She's you," he said simply. "Look, Sammy, I'm not one fer mincin' words, so I'm just gonna come out with it. Yer the most amazin' girl I've ever met. Like I said, yer sweet, yer funny, and what it is that I'm tryin' to say is that...I love you."

Crap crap crap!

"Let's think about this logically Tommy. I'm flattered, I really am, but no one can fall so hard so fast," said Sammy. Or can they?

As Tommy gazed at her expectantly, she felt herself go weak at the knees. Tommy's name had seemed familiar and now she knew why: As she'd worked on her project and perused the third-class passenger list, she had come across a Thomas Ryan from Belfast. He had been shot on-site by Will Murdoch and had been dead before he hit the floor. She wasn't sure if Thomas Ryan and her Tommy were one and the same, but she wasn't going to take any chances by falling in love with him.

And yet...She could tell he was genuine. And she knew she liked him back. She'd felt a connection to him from the start. She stared at his lips, wanting desperately to kiss him. I want to I want to I want to but I can't. I can't just do something spontaneous like that. It's not my way.

"You don't want to fall in love with me, Tommy. I have secrets like no other woman's. Stick with someone safe and harmless," she advised him.

"But it's you I want, Sammy girl," he protested.

She pulled away from him. "I can't do this! I've known you all of two days! I'm not just going to throw logic out the window. I'm not like Jack or Fabrizio. I'm not high on life. And you shouldn't be either! Even if we were to date aboard this ship, what would happen once we dock in New York? We'd part ways and never see one another again! I'm so sorry, Tommy. I really am. But we have to think rationally here!"

"Why are ya so afeard of livin' a bit? Why can't we just live in the moment? Why do I scare ya?" Tommy asked her, exasperated.

"Because to have That Dark Day repeat itself would not only kill me. It would destroy me!" she said, frustrated. "Everyone I've ever loved is dead because of me. I don't want any more blood on my hands," she said quietly.

She took off his jacket and held it back out to him, but he refused. "Keep it," he said. "Somethin' to remember me by."

Sammy looked up at him with sad eyes. "I don't need a jacket to remember you by, Tommy Ryan. You stick out in my mind's eye like a sore thumb."

She scrambled to get up from the bench, taking one last sad look at the heartbroken Irishman. "I'm so sorry. I know I've hurt you."

Sammy turned away sadly and left. Tommy stared after the retreating figure of the girl he was certain he loved, heartbroken.

She cried herself to sleep that night, feeling awful for not telling Tommy the truth. She hugged the jacket he'd given her to herself and smelled it. It smelled like soap and smoke, and she was calmed by it.

Author's Note: How did you guys enjoy my take on the steerage party scene?