AN: The plot should really get rolling with the next chapter, but I hope you like this one anyway.

The Third Class dining room was exactly the way Rose expected it would be. The talk was louder, more energetic, the food smelled better, and the people were so much more alive than those in First Class. The different accents mingled together like musical notes. Rose didn't think she had ever heard anything sound so lovely. She tried not to stare, but she couldn't stop herself. There were just so many different types of people, and not only that, there was such a sense of community. No-one seemed to be a stranger to anyone else. People had always been polite to her. All Rose's life, she had watched people be polite to one another, cordial even, but she had never had a close friend. Her mother's friends had always appeared lukewarm with one another, at best. They returned one another's invitations and expressed happiness at meeting again, but their talk was always light and safe. If they ever spoke of personal things, mulled over problems, or shared secrets, Rose never heard it. Now, for the first time, she began imagining herself with a close friend, another woman to talk to. Watching the women around her, it finally seemed possible.

She couldn't remember what she ate, but she knew it was unlike anything she had ever eaten before. She tried not to look surprised or confused at the plate Jack set before her, and after a few bites, she decided she never wanted to eat another gourmet meal again. Jack watched her with interest. She hadn't spoken since they sat down, but he saw a world of thoughts in her eyes. He was content to watch her take in her new surroundings. He didn't expect her to feel comfortable yet; how could she? But so far, she didn't appear to regret being there. That was enough for him.

"Hey, Jack!" He looked up, startled by the sound of Fabrizo's voice. Before he could respond, Fabrizo and Tommy were sitting in the empty chairs, one by him and one by Rose. "Where've you been?" Tommy asked. His eyes widened as he recognized Rose. "Oh," he said, surprised.

Rose's stomach fluttered nervously. Tommy and Fabrizo had both been nice to her at the dance, but did that mean they would be now? Things had been different then. They had all been drinking and having fun. She was just the pretty girl Jack had brought to the party. Now, she was the married woman he was helping leave her husband. For him. Rose knew what her mother and her friends would say about a woman in her situation, but she didn't know what these men would say. She smiled, hiding any trace of anxiety. "Hello, Tommy," she said graciously. "Fabrizo."

Tommy flashed her a charming grin. Fabrizo smiled back, but there was hesitation. His dark eyes studied Rose carefully. Just who was this girl, really? Why was she there? He knew Jack was crazy about her. It had begun the afternoon when they first saw her. Jack had been riveted by her. They had joked about how he would never even come near her, and yet, here she was, eating lunch with him just like she belonged there. Fabrizo had no reason to dislike Rose; she seemed like a nice girl, and she clearly made Jack happy. But he felt uneasy. She wasn't just any girl. It was bad enough she was married, but to a rich man, no less, and from the little Jack had told them, he wouldn't take this well. Leave it to Jack to choose the most unreachable girl and then actually go get her. He just hoped Jack didn't find himself regretting it.

"So, you're down here with us today, huh?" Tommy said. "Doesn't really compare, does it?"

"No," Rose said. "It's better here."

"You've gotta be kidding," Tommy said, incredulous.

"I'm not," she insisted. "I can breathe here." As she said it, Jack caught her eyes. Her heart beat faster. Tommy and Fabrizo watched their silent exchange with interest and amusement. Finally. Tommy nudged Fabrizo with his elbow and said, "Ya ever see anything like it? They're just frozen."

A blush crept over Rose's cheeks, and she turned her gaze away from Jack. "You jealous?" Jack asked Tommy. "Want somebody looking at you?"

"I got plenty of girls looking at me," Tommy shot back. "More than enough. Why, I got five on this ship alone."

"You don't," Fabrizo said. "He likes to brag," he explained to Rose. "And, uh, exaggerate. Don't listen."

"Oh, does he?" Rose said, amused. "I suppose that's good to know."

Jack watched their conversation. He was glad they were getting along, but he couldn't shake a slight uneasiness. He wanted his friends to like Rose, especially Fabrizo, and he wanted her to fit into his world. But what if his world wouldn't let her? What if it didn't want her there? At dinner, he had charmed nearly everyone at the table. They had laughed at his stories and acted interested in his life, but Jack knew that didn't mean he belonged. He was new and different, a diversion for the evening. Associating with him for a couple of hours was fine, but it wouldn't become a habit. He would never be recognized by most of those people if they saw him again, and that was how they wanted it. Everyone had a place, and his was down below, out of sight, and preferably working for them. Jack knew they weren't the only ones who thought that way. No matter what dress she wore, Rose would always be a First Class girl. It was in the way she spoke and the way she carried herself. She simply wasn't part of the group, and not everyone would accept her trying to join.

In fact, Jack had begun noticing curious glances being sent their way. He knew they were because of Rose. He couldn't help grinning, proud to be seen with her in spite of his fears. She chose me.

"So, you're staying with us, then?" Fabrizo asked. Rose nodded. "I planned to," she said. "I hope I'm not intruding. Jack told me the two of you have been traveling together. I don't want to be in the way. I'll try not to be, though I'm afraid I will be, at times. It must be so easy for two men alone." Fabrizo was struck not only by her sincerity but also her sadness. She seemed to almost shrink into herself when she talked about being in the way. He wondered where that came from. "I'm going to contribute," she added. "Somehow."

It was obvious she really did care for Jack, and Fabrizo believed she really did want to be an equal part of the group. She didn't expect to be taken care of. No, she wasn't a bad girl by any means, and he didn't mind having her around. But she wasn't the problem. Her husband was.

"This is your room?" Rose said, looking around the small space. It was barely half the size of her bedroom. It felt cramped and claustrophobic . She wondered how Jack could sleep there. She couldn't imagine feeling comfortable with three other people in it. "Yeah," he said over his shoulder. "Impressive, huh?" he added with a grin.

"It's very nice," she replied. He finished packing his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "You don't hafta say that," he said, turning to her. "I know it's nothing like what you're used to."

"Well—no," she admitted. "It isn't, but it's not so bad. I can't imagine how you turn around when you're all here."

He chuckled. "We don't."

She allowed herself a smile. "Where are—where am I sleeping?" she asked quickly. The reality of what she was doing began sinking in. She had left Cal—for another man and for herself. And of course she and Jack would sleep together, wouldn't they? He wouldn't expect it. But no, she decided, no, he wouldn't.

"We're gonna find somewhere else," he said. "Our own place. Though, uh, we don't have to be together if you don't want to. I was just thinking my room's pretty easy to find. It's probably the first place Cal would look."

"I hadn't thought of that," she said. She sighed. "I'm starting to worry there are many things I haven't thought of yet."

He moved closer. "Like what?" he asked, placing his hands lightly on her arms.

"We really have nothing," she said. "And I don't know how to do anything. I'm absolutely useless, Jack."

"Hey, listen to me," he said. "You are not useless. I don't want to hear you saying that. You can do anything you want to. If you want to learn how to do something, you can. I'll help you. You think I was born knowing how to do stuff? Rose, you shoulda seen me the first year I was on my own. I didn't know anything. I'd spent my life in the woods, going to town sometimes, but mostly learning how to farm and live off the land. I didn't even really go to school. My mom taught me things. But I learned how to travel, how to make it. I'm not sayin it was easy, but I did it."

"What if I don't know what I want to do?" she asked. "What if I want to do everything?"

"Everything, huh?"

"Everything."

"We'll figure somethin out then," he said. "There's nothin we can't do together."

She was too conscious of his hands on her arms. His touch was gentle but firm. She wondered what he would do if she stepped closer. Would he push her away? Hold her? He was still talking, but she couldn't focus on the words. Her eyes were fixed on his mouth. No man had ever had a mouth like his. The longing to kiss him again pressed on her like an ache from deep inside. Before she could stop herself, she placed a hand on the back of his neck. And then she was kissing him, more passionately than ever, but still, with a restraint. She was afraid of what would happen if she gave in to the full force of her desire. Women weren't supposed to feel this way, or were they? Her mother had always said they didn't. No, it was ladies she had always referred to. Ladies didn't feel desire. They didn't think about the way a man's skin felt or the smell of his hair. Ladies didn't have aching needs they didn't know how to explain or satisfy.

In that regard, Rose had always been perfect. And yet, Cal was often dissatisfied with her. He didn't say it, but she knew. What could she do about it? Whatever desires he had, whatever pleasures he got from her, she didn't share them. Indifferent was the best reaction she could summon, and that was when he was in a good mood, when he seemed to want her to share in it, if only a little.

She sensed Jack was holding back. His hands had slipped down to her waist, but he wasn't pulling her any closer. She pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He was so solid. If she let herself fall, he would catch her.

His hands moved over her back. He twisted her dress between his fingers. "Rose," he whispered thickly, moving his lips down her cheek and to her neck. She gasped. Nothing had ever felt so good. It was as if he were touching every inch of her. The ache worsened. She wanted more, but she wasn't sure what that would be. Her knees wobbled, but Jack held her steady. She took a step, nudging him back. He raised his head and gave her a questioning look. She sat down on the edge of his bed and tugged his hand.

He felt even closer now. Their legs were touching. His arm was around her. He wasn't just holding her hand; he was caressing it. His eyes burned into hers. They seemed even bluer now. "Jack," she said. "I want you to keep kissing me."

He tried to sound flippant. "I can do that."

She brought his hand up to her cheek. He watched, breathlessly, as she laid her cheek against his knuckles. She turned his hand over, and looking into his eyes, kissed his palm. He shivered; her lips were smooth and cool. She kissed his fingertips, one by one.

It took all of Jack's strength to remain still. He couldn't push her. Even more than with other girls, he felt a responsibility toward her. He knew instinctively that no-one had ever taken the time to kiss her properly, let alone make love to her the way she deserved. There was no doubt in his mind Cal didn't appreciate her. He wasn't grateful just to be next to her, to touch her hand. But Jack was. And he would let her lead him to where she wanted to go.

Rose saw tenderness mingled with desire in his eyes. It was a look she had never seen before. He was so patient. Her confidence increased. "Jack, I want you to put your hands on me," she said softly. When he hesitated, she guided his hand to her breast. His lips crashed into hers. She let herself fall back onto the bed, pulling him down with her. Every nerve in their bodies was on fire. She fumbled with the buttons on his shirt before finally managing to undo them. He shrugged out of it. His skin was warm under her hands. There were fine, blonde hairs on his chest. He was slim and wiry but well-toned and muscular in places. His chest and arms were the same golden brown as his face and hands. Images of Jack working in the sun, shirtless, filled her mind. Her breathing quickened.

She rained herself slightly and began undoing the buttons on the back of her dress. Jack waited silently. He moved back and let her slip out of it. She tossed it onto the floor; her shoes followed. "You wear too many layers," he said, trying to make a joke. She laughed. "You should try it sometime."

"How do you breathe in that?"

"It isn't always easy," she said. "You have to learn how."

Slowly, giving her plenty of time to stop him, Jack began unlacing her corset. She sighed in relief when it was off. He leaned in and kissed her. She pulled her camisole over her head. She held her breath, waiting for his reaction. Jack could only gaze at her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He lightly ran his fingertips across her stomach. "Are you sure you want to be doing this?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered.

He kissed her without restraint. She pressed him closer. Nothing had ever felt like this. He kissed her throat and then her shoulders. She gasped when he reached her breasts. What was he doing? His mouth—his hands—was he supposed to be doing that? She twisted her fingers in his hair. It didn't matter; she just wanted him to never stop. His hands were on her hips, and he was looking into her eyes. "You stopped," she said. A smile flickered on his face. Slowly, he slid off her underwear. Now, he was kissing her belly; his hands were on her thighs. And then—"Jack." It was more moan than word. "What are you…" She couldn't speak. She could only cling to him.