Those Careless Whispers

Happy Valentine's Day to everyone!

I have been trying to work on something like this for a little while and the idea has killed me until this weekend, it will only be a few parters. I hope it sets itself up. The italics are flashbacks. Based on the brilliant song 'Careless Whisper' by George Michael; just the idea of a really passionate affair has been screaming at me.

Jack knew that he shouldn't take the version of a woman he once knew and sweep her across a dancefloor so crowded they could both be identified for who they truly were. He knew how wrong it was. But how do you fight something when it feels so right, even if it is the damned opposite. Even if one's heart was pounding out of its chest, as though it hasn't in years. As though he had died, and now he was brought back to life from one single and unwavering glance from blue/green glassy eyes which hadn't changed through the passage of time, but yet, had changed so much. The stark difference wasn't the small lines of ageing, because there very few. It wasn't that she had lost the softness of youth from her face, because she hadn't so much. It was more the fact that as she gained clarity just to who was the man before her, invading her line of sight, as though he was the holy ghost himself, and perhaps to her, he was. He recognised the longing with them. They seemed to be free of that certain sadness which had clouded here before but another sort of burden made him on edge. More aware. But then, he tossed every single thought to the devil…

There was a mere second or even longer when she was floating, with a gentle breeze coming from somewhere completely sending a rush of her curls forwards and they tumbled about her shoulders in an effortless way and suddenly, it was all real. She was real. This was real. How could it be anything other than utterly genuine. Her fingers joined at her stomach as she moved, gilded towards an unknown destination which both knew would lead to absolute trouble. To a devastating aching heart. But it was inevitable. It had to start, to end. And there had to be an end. There was always an end to something which shouldn't even begin, wasn't there? They wordlessly confirmed that before it had even started…

Rose was a married woman. The ring on her finger told him so, and it glittered beneath the sparkling chandeliers of the ballroom, but at that moment in time, it seemed to matter as little as the engagement ring upon her finger had thirteen years before. It was as though they were young again, somehow, stupidly naive and footloose, completely free of their sanity. Free of care. Free of life. Free of literally everything which now made up their entire beings.

Freedom had once been sought of so eagerly and she had trusted him with her entire life, he had known that much. She had trusted him once the damned ship had docked, to go with him and find a life worth living together. It was perhaps that which had sealed their fate; the belief that they would have even stood a chance out in the world which was so cruel and real. Would they have survived out there, with only the other a reality and seeking comfort from each other's body over and over again, so endlessly?

Was it that which had kept them apart?

Kept them apart for thirteen years...

In a clashing of bodies, they met; blue eyes on blue. Rough hands to delicate. Gold dress to white suit. It was as though all situations had been left at the front entrance of the hotel and now, there was no longer any need to have a conscience at all. Jack could only go with the rhythm of his soul, to the music and the way in which his heart beat. His stomach moved. His fingers were trembling as they reached out for the precious entity which he believed had been lost so many years ago, but now, she was still a jewel, shining as brightly as she had been back when he had been such a young bohemian kid in search of everything but matters of the heart and instead, he had found the piece which had completed the part which he never knew was even missing. She had been missing for so long. He wasn't complete now; he was overwhelmed.

The saxophone sounded so loudly that it completely disturbed his reverie, and he was mildly aware of other bodies joining to one in a wordless dance, and it was then, that in an unspoken invitation that he was about to extend his hand to hers, but then it occurred that their first dance he had simply placed his hands at the small of her back, upon her waist and pulled her closer to inhale everything about her and then stared down into uncertain eyes and held onto fragile fingers. He had felt her confidence dissolve into unworldly naivety and he had completely allowed himself to lead her about a crowded dance floor as though there would be no tomorrow. The truth was, there had been nothing passed that moment for either of them. Each moment could be their last. Wasn't that what they lived for? After the sinking of the Titanic, after the War, those words couldn't be more poignant. Sometimes, late at night, or even after his own marriage, as he witnessed his own lovely wife carry their children he would consider his own sanity all of these years. He had tried and failed so many times to capture their times onto paper, onto canvas but nothing ever emerged because it had all been locked away in his own imagination. It was sacred, it was private…

Jack was only aware of his own right hand, without a fragment of care, reaching around her hips to catch her lower back and touch the beading of her glimmering gold dress to anchor himself to her. His eyes didn't leave hers, as though he needed to gauge her reaction. In case this was wrong…

''I feel so unsure…'' Jack could manage, as automatically his hand came to join hers and they came as one. Something within her eyes came to his mind. It was similar to the eyes of a screen siren who he had witnessed so long ago. She was mesmerising, even more so as the passage of time had turned her into an almost vixen looking treasure with a curvy figure, finger waved red hair and a face with beautiful dark gothic eyes and reddened lips. ''Taking your hand and leading you out here.''

He felt her hesitance, but she never retreated. Perhaps because her pupils were wider than his own. The music seemed to die off, and then come back shrill, awakening both of their fading desires and ignoring them to such a point that a fire may never be burnt out.

''Well, I haven't danced with another man but you in all of these years.''

Jack wished to ask of her husband; if they had ever shared such a closeness but ignorance was kind to his heart, and to his mind, too. As he gazed down at her, he was thrust back years to a third class party and it slammed into his mind at lightning speed.

Jack pulled Rose onto the floor and she offered slight hesitation. Glancing around her she saw the other people dancing and realised she had no idea how they danced. The music was fast and Jack pulled her closer towards him.

''Jack, I can't do this.'' She turned her attention back to him and realised just how close they were.

''We're going to have to get a little bit closer…'' Jack placed his right hand on the small of her back and pulled her a little closer to him. ''Like this.''

She was nervously close to him. Picking up her dress in her right hand, Rose slipped her hand into Jack's.

''But Jack, I don't even know the steps.'' He began to lead her into the middle of the floor before dancing.

''Neither do I.'' he shouted above the music. ''Just go with it, and don't think.''

Listening to his words, Rose followed his lead and simply did as he told her. He led her around the floor, and she screamed having never danced this way before. She felt so wild and free and her grip on Jack tightened as he twirled her around.

There was time to break away from the other, but the pull was harder than it was to push away. It was like gravity. Or magnets. And well beyond obvious. He didn't know the dance. The music. The steps. It was a blur but she moved. Riveted beneath his gaze, beneath the way in which he held her. And he was just as ensnared by her.

Her eyes were lighter in colour, a watery ring seemed to surround the iris. The scent of her was the same; the scent of his bare skin pressed to her, writhing in the back seat of a car in which he had lovingly taken her heart and her virginity. In which he had experienced love truly for the first time in his young life; it had touched him once and then lasted what felt like a lifetime. He felt it even now, holding the only woman he had ever given a piece of himself to. It was never just his heart. His soul, too. His voice. His bliss. His utter pain and shattered insides which had been agony from the early hours of April the 15th 1912 to just minutes ago when across a crowded room, he had seen the only hazy blue which he had known.

He moved effortlessly. Gliding. Leading. Teaching. Back then, he was barely a man. Just a man who had limited means, barely an education or a dollar and yet, now, he felt more than capable and yet completely incapable as well.. Upon her face, he could make out the slight lines of time here and there, but other than she was unaltered. Just more stunning. He held her tightly, at an appropriate length away and yet, there was something wonderfully intimate about how now and then he clasped her hand tighter or ran his hand down to her curved hip and back to the base of her spine.

Rose moved her feet, as though the steps were ingrained within her and yet she was entirely clueless. There was a fluidity to her movement, as though her entire body was made of water and contained within her skin and if he let go then she would just collapse and drown.

Jack felt as though she wanted to tremble beneath his touch, but was too pinned beneath the intense gaze.

What would happen when the music stopped?

What could happen?

''Time can never mend any of this, can it?''

''No, it never will.''

''And there could be whispers after tonight.''

''They're careless.''

''So am I, Rose.''

As the ends of her lips curled into a smile, Jack saw how the rest of her face seemed to become illuminated with the radiance and the roof could have caved in to allow the sunlight through for the first time in so long. Wasn't that the way Rose had always made him feel? Like there had been any sunlight and now, it was warm upon his back and filling him with such happiness and it seeped into his bones, into his heart then chipped away any pieces of rigid ice which had grown from the war. From life. Now, the coldness was disappearing, replaced by a distinct warmth that was a distant memory to him now.

He loosened his grip. Letting go of one hand. Then, she was swirling, turning and twisting just holding on with one finger to his own. Her hair went about her, the glamor of her dress going with her and soon, she allowed the jazzy sounds of the band to reach her ears and realise that the pace had changed. He could dance. And so could she.

''I want to scream like a girl.''

''Scream like a child then. The music won't die. I promise.''

He continued to twirl her about, that same beautiful laugh which he had heard years ago broke everything and it belonged to her. His own laughter joined hers, as loud as the band and no doubt attracting attention from every other partygoer present but somehow that was insignificant. She was dizzy, breathless and joyous.

In the heat of the moment, she was pulled back to him. Their bodies pressed together, before he grasped her shoulder and waist before dipping her, using his hip to move to her and then once she was back upon two feet their eyes were merely an inch or so away. He repeated it and she turned to fluid in his arms, as though she was playing a part. A woman dancing with a man who she had been desperately in love with for over a decade. Sweat lined her forehead, she was out of breath and after he dipped her for the final time, noticed that every pair of eyes were on them as though they were the only two lovers in the entire world. The lights were the flashes of the photographers as they immortalised the moment of the two in film. The interest wasn't a distraction, it forced him to focus on only her as memories seemed to reawaken of a time so long ago it was almost non-existent. A time when she had danced within the arms of an almost stranger and felt the safest that one ever could.

He was in control of the dance. Of the pace. Of her. Jack. Or was it him? With widened eyes, Rose was back pressed right up to him, her spine poker straight with a fiery trail threading up it as his left hand rested at the base. Beneath the thin material of her dress, she must have felt how his fingers twitched. Her own hands were at his shoulders, and contained within his. Wordlessly, still, she took her right hand from his shoulder and slowly reached up, towards his face to just touch him once there, perhaps would be a true indication of the reality of the night. Just as she reached the warm skin there, on his cheek, there was a loud cheer and then she held her breath before speaking.

''I am never going to dance again, not the way that I dance with you.'' Her eyes were different to that first day. Wider. Holding so much more weight but not the terrible kind. Just the weight of life and everyday worries; work, marriage, maybe even children.

Jack placed both of his hands around hers, where she caught a glimpse of his wedding band for the first time but still allowed him to circle his hands around hers. She seemed to lean on him for support.

"I don't want to ask or answer questions, we are here and that's what matters." Her voice almost broke him in two and it was hard to imagine their parting before anything had ever begun.

"It's all that can matter," she pulled his body closer, and he ignored the music. Ignored the crowds. Literally everything else fell from his mind and he was no longer thirty three years old. But twenty. He was that young guy once more. And she was his young Rose…

"To make it count?"

Bright eyes seduced him beyond any thought. It should have terrified him but instead he was deadly excited.

'To make it count."

She was a girl again, within his arms. He felt how everything which had been so stiff and rigid now became fluid once more. That had happened in 1912, when a girl so stifled by rules and restrictions had been freed for just one or two nights to learn how to fly. To become a woman. In return, Jack Dawson had grown into a man. A man who had fallen in love for the first time, and had experienced first hand just how cruel fate could be at ripping them apart. A man who had known that he would die for Rose DeWitt Bukater, and until a mere few moments ago, he had believed that to have been the truth. Maybe this was another twist of fate; cruel, yes, but definitely an opportunity to be taken. No matter how illicit. How careless…

So, for now, all he could do was take her hand, no matter how unsure and lead her across the dancefloor. To dance in a way that could be their last. In a way which was provocative for a man who had been married to another woman for seven years, to dance with a woman who was married to another man. There was no comfort in the truth, and so he stopped trying to seek it in and instead, focused on the rhythm. He wasn't a fool, and neither was she.

This couldn't be a wasted chance.

''Do you remember that shooting star?'' Rose asked him, out of nowhere.

He nodded. ''Of course.''

''I told you that we should wish upon it?''

''Yes.''

Rose reduced their movements to a sway. ''Did you ever?'' Her voice was as soft as a whisper. He sighed, breathing outward an almost breath of relief that she wasn't going to break away just that second; he would get a few more minutes with her. He held his hand out to her and this time she fell against him ignoring all hesitations and nerves. It wasn't the dance that she wanted, it was the closeness, the intense stare of his gaze and how when he looked at her, she became almost another person.

They moved slowly, without needing music, under the chandeliers. There were no steps, just a small sway but with entwined bodies and rapid beating hearts.

''I wished to know you inside and out.'' Jack told her without hesitation; there was no point now. ''I wanted you to live the life you wanted; I wanted you to be happy.''

His gaze was intense and so was her own. Shattered memories came back to him, of a beautiful first kiss beneath a clear night sky after a party below decks.

''Could I live a life on Santa Monica pier?'' She asked, only half joking.

He nodded, seriously. ''Yes, with me.''

Rose half gasped, her stomach pulling her in more directions than she cared to even acknowledge.

She closed her eyes, and he slowly leaned his head in. And for that one moment, it didn't matter if people were watching. To them, they were alone in the world. It was as if everything around them faded except each other. They kissed. It was a slow, heartfelt, meaningful kiss. It was the best thing either one of them had experienced. Rose felt limp in his arms as Jack moved his lips over hers. He tasted like smoke and the faintest trace of the beer he had consumed.

A first kiss. One which was far more beautiful than one could ever imagine. She clung to him and he felt her weight against him. And it felt so good that when he slid in his tongue and began to explore her mouth, she all but melted onto the floor. And when his lips ever so slowly left hers, it felt like her world came crashing down around her. It was like she could die because nothing in her life would ever be that perfect.

With thrashing hearts, Jack's hands came to her face, before tracing down to her shoulders and then her waist, holding her there as she leaned and whispered into Jack's ear, which was the most sensual thing he had ever heard.

"Dance with me, Jack."

He smiled and held her closer, if that was possible, gave her a spin, and took her back again so her body fell right on him. They both smiled and danced in little circles, while Jack leaned in for another lingering kiss.

It appeared that she was recalling the same moment, because as her gaze went from his eyes, to his lips, he could only fear the same crippling fear he did all those years ago whether or not to allow himself to lean in to kiss her. It had changed everything then.

It would change everything now.