"That's the last time Titanic ever saw daylight."

-Elderly Rose, Titanic

After Rose's encounter with Jack on the bow, she led him to her sitting room. "Are you sure this is proper?" Jack asked.

"It's quite proper, I assure you," she informed him with a giggle. "This is the sitting room."

Jack looked around the stateroom, awed. He knew first-class people were fancy folks. But he hadn't expected this. The walls were paneled with a gleaming red wood he couldn't name, and there was golden inlay everywhere. A potted palm tree stood in the corner.

"Will this light do?"

Jack hadn't been paying attention; rather he'd been admiring the craftsmanship of the beautiful fireplace. "What?"

"Don't artists need good light?" Rose asked. "Zat eez true, but I am not used to working in such...'orrible conditions," said Jack in a cheesy fake French accent. He looked at one of the expensive paintings. "Monet!"

"Do you know his work?" asked Rose, impressed. "Of course!" Jack said, touching the painting. "Look at his use of color here. Isn't he great?"

"I know," Rose agreed. "It's extraordinary."

"Cal insists on carting this hideous thing everywhere," said Rose, referring to the ugly green safe as she undid the lock and pulled out a black velvet box.

"Will you be expecting him anytime soon?"

"Not as long as the cigars and brandy hold out." She held up a necklace, a beautiful blue gem shaped like a heart at the base of it. "That's nice," said Jack, taking the necklace and holding it to the light so he could see it properly.

"A diamond," said Rose. "A very rare diamond. As Jack continued to admire the necklace, she steeled herself, knowing full well that what she was about to ask would shock and astound him.

"Jack, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls. Wearing this."

"All right," Jack agreed.

"Wearing only this."

As Rose dressed in her favorite silk robe and took out her butterfly hair clip in front of the mirror, letting her long red waves flow free, she felt truly free for the first time since before her father had died.

Jack was in the sitting room, rearranging some furniture. He moved the sofa to the center of the room and fluffed the pillows.

Rose opened the door and lingered in the doorway. "The last thing I need is another picture of me looking like a porcelain doll," Rose declared. "As a paying customer..."

She dropped a dime onto his lap, and he caught it. "...I expect to get what I want."

She backed up and slowly let her robe fall down her back and shoulders onto the floor, revealing herself to Jack entirely.

Jack was struck dumb at her beauty. Before she had looked like the porcelain doll she was so dead set against him making her out to be. Now, she looked like a tigress, a real woman. "Over on the bed...the couch," he stammered, pointing to the sofa.

"Go, lie down," he told her.

Rose obeyed him, unsure of herself. "Tell me when it looks right-"

"Put your arm back the way it was," Jack said. "Right," Jack confirmed. "Put that other arm up, the hand right by your face there-" he instructed. "Right."

"Now, head down. Eyes to me, keep them on me," Jack said. "And try to stay still," he added.

Jack took a deep breath and put his pencil to the paper and began to draw, using gentle, fine strokes and glancing quickly up at Rose every so often. "So serious," Rose teased.

Rose noticed his face, which had turned beet red in embarrassment. "I believe you are blushing, Mr. Big Artiste," she teased. "I can't imagine Monsieur Monet blushing."

"He does landscapes," Jack pointed out in a matter-of-fact tone. "Just relax your face."

"Sorry."

"No laughing," Jack told her. He began to draw with fine, detailed strokes, wanting together every detail just right. Her heart was pounding the whole time. It was the most erotic moment of her life.

"Done," he almost whispered once he had finished the drawing.

"Thank you," she whispered. They kissed, and Rose giggled in ecstasy.

Jack was leaning out the window of Cal's private promenade deck, waiting for Rose to come back out. She'd gone inside, although why she hadn't said.

He blew some warm air into his cold hands. "It's getting cold. You look nice."

Someone rapped impatiently on the beautifully polished oak door. "Miss Rose?"

Rose knew that voice. It was Lovejoy, Cal's valet. She took hold of Jack's hand and they fled to the next room.

"My drawings!" Jack whispered in panic, realizing he'd left them in the safe.

Lovejoy opened the door and entered the room. He heard another door shut and followed the sound. This happened several more times before he caught sight of Jack and Rose walking hand in hand down the first-class corridor. They looked back, realizing he was onto them, and began walking faster. Unfortunately for them, Lovejoy also picked up his pace. Rose glanced at Jack. "Run!" Rose said loudly. The two of them bolted to the elevators.

"Wait, wait! wait!" Rose and Jack pleaded, dragging Jack into an open elevator, pushing past the people who were disembarking.

"Go! Go! Down! Down! Quickly! Quickly!" Rose and Jack said to the elevator operator, both of them frantically pointing downwards.

The doors slammed shut just as Lovejoy ran up. By then it was too late. Rose gave him the finger as the elevator went down. "Bye!" she teased.

Jack and Rose ran off the elevator onto one of the steerage floors laughing uncontrollably. "Sorry," Jack laughed as he accidentally banged into a steward and inadvertently knocked some crockery off of a kitchen steward's cart. He scrambled to help pick up the dropped items. Then, they both stumbled through the kitchen doors out into another hallway, laughing even harder.

"Pretty tough for a valet, this fella. Seems more like a cop!" Jack said, out of breath with laughter.

"I think he was!" Rose told him, panting as she leaned against a wall. "Cal's father hired him to keep his little boy out of trouble...to make sure he got back to the hotel with his wallet after his crawl through the less reputable parts of town," she added.

Jack looked around for any signs of their opponent and realized that the coast was clear.

"Kinda like we're doin' right now, huh?" he grinned, taking Rose's hands in his and pulling her against him. He looked out the door's window and saw Lovejoy, who turned and looked right at them. "Oh, shit!"

"Go!" she yelled as they took off down the hallway again.

"Come on!" Jack shouted. He switched direction. "No, over here!"

"Quick!" They managed to find a small boiler room that hissed steam and noise like a dragon breathing fire out its mouth.

"Now what?" Rose yelled, hands over her ears.

"What?" Jack half-asked, half-shouted back, hands over his own ears.

"Come on," he said, helping her climb down the narrow ladder into the larger boiler room below.

"Hold on! What are you two doin' down 'ere?" the head stoker demanded angrily as Jack and Rose took off laughing. "You shouldn't be down 'ere, it could be dangerous! Oi!"

"Carry on! Don't mind us, you're doing a great job! Keep up the good work!" Jack called to the workers.

Jack stopped and pulled Rose into his warm embrace again. He kissed her then, gentle at first. He caressed her neck and hugged her close, working his hands through her hair.

It was perfect.

Before long, Jack and Rose found themselves in the ship's cargo hold, Jack noticed a large fancy Renault. "Wow, look what we have here, huh?" he observed.

He curiously examined the large, shiny maroon vehicle. Rose cleared her throat. He took her hand and helped her into the backseat of the car.

"Why thank you," Rose said graciously.

Rose looked at the flowers and smiled. How appropriate.

They were roses.

Jack got into the front seat and honked the horn twice, and Rose giggled.

"Where to, miss?" Jack asked in a false English butler accent.

She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "To the stars," she whispered, pulling him over the partition and into the backseat with her.

She snuggled against his chest as he held her, looking up at him with big eyes filled with love...and lust. "You nervous?" Jack asked softly.

"No," she whispered back. She looked at him with lust-filled eyes and began kissing his fingers. "Put your hands on me, Jack," she said quietly, looking up at him again.

He crashed against her lips, wanting to take her then and there. She moved instinctually against him, holding him close.

After, as Jack gave Rose one last kiss, she saw he was shaking. "You're trembling," she murmured.

He looked at her, touched by her concern. "I'll be all right." Not convinced, she took hold of his head and held it to her chest.