Jack Dawson took a look around the diner as he entered. He studied the people sitting at the tables and counters and took it all in. Everyone had a life story, each one different. From the old couple in the last booth to the pretty red haired girl busing tables. He definitely had a story. He had lost both of his parents in a fire a few years back and had basically been on his own ever since. Now he was drafted into the army, destined to go to Vietnam. He had just retrieved his army greens today and had a hair cut to look forward to, something he found utterly embarrassing.

Right now, he was just going to take a break from it all and grab something to eat before heading to the pier to find something to draw, even though he could use someone to talk to more. He couldn't really say what he would talk about, but ever since being drafted, he felt the need to just sit down and share his thoughts with a friendly ear. But all of his friends were already over there at war, so there really was no one.

Sighing, he slid into the booth and watched people come and go. This was what he loved. People. Life. A never ending cycle. Now all of that was threatened to be snuffed out and he had no one to talk it over with.

"Hello, welcome to Molly's Grill. May I take your order?"

Jack looked up at the waitress and his breath was taken away. She was a pretty girl with red hair tied back with a ribbon, with pretty green eyes and a sweet smile. Her skin was flawless perfection and looked to be soft to the touch. She was the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

Finding his voice, he forced out the words, feeling unusually shy. Normally, he'd find talking to a girl such as this one ridiculously easy, but with the way his life was going these days, he was soon finding that nothing was easy. "Um, a cheeseburger and a strawberry shake, ma'am."

"Okay. I'll have that right out to you," The girl smiled. She gave Jack a look that said that she thought he was rather cute.

"Thank you," Jack smiled and went back to brooding over the cards he had been dealt this time around. Vietnam. When he had first heard about the conflict, he hadn't thought that he'd be called to fight. Who was he? Jack Dawson, wandering artist. He was alone in the world really. No one really knew who he was...well that wasn't true. Obviously Uncle Sam knew. That's why he was drafted. But he was more of a lover than a fighter. What if he got killed over there? Who would know or even care? And why should they care about someone killed in the process of being forced to kill someone else? God, he hated war. He hated the draft. He could dodge...but what good would that do? He could still get caught and sent over there anyway. He might as well just go. After all, it wasn't like he had anyone over here waiting for him.

Ten minutes later, the pretty waitress was back, with his order. Jack glanced at her name tag and saw that her name was Rose.

"Here you go. Is there anything else I can do for you?" Rose sat the burger and shake in front of him.

Jack didn't know what made him ask. He normally wouldn't, but her eyes...there was a kindness to them and her smile was warm and inviting. He wanted to get to know this girl before he left.

"To be honest...I could use someone to talk to. I've been feeling a little low. You wouldn't mind sitting down and talking to me for a little while, would you?"

The girl, Rose, smiled. "Right now, I'm in middle of a shift...but I'll be off in an hour. I know some place we can go."

Jack's smile was bright and grateful. "I'll be right here."

…..

Rose hung up her apron and took off the head piece that belonged with her uniform. Her shift was up and she was ready to shed off her role of waitress. She hadn't really been working at Molly's diner for long. Only for about six months. She came from what was once a wealthy family, but they had fallen on hard times and her mother's friend Molly had been kind enough to take Rose on, despite her lack of experience.

Unlike her co-workers, Rose loved the job. It got her out from under her mother's thumb and allowed her to meet new people and actually experience life out of the gilded cage she had been raised in.

Rose peaked out in the dining room and found herself pleased to see the young soldier that had asked to talk to her was still there. When he had first entered, she found him to be incredibly handsome. Maybe one of the handsomest boys she's seen, even in her crowd of wealthy young men. He wasn't wealthy though. That was obvious. If he had been, he'd be with the others at some university, avoiding the draft.

When he had asked to her to talk with him, she knew that she should say no. After all, she was engaged to Caledon Hockley, heir to Hockley Steel. Not that she was happy about it. It was all arranged by her mother, who was always looking for ways to stay in the privileged class. She knew that it would be considered inappropriate to talk with another young man, unchaperoned. But there was a sadness in those lovely blue eyes and his smile had been warm and kind. She couldn't say no.

"He's so cute. It's a shame he's off to Vietnam," Molly tsked, joining Rose. "Are you still planning to talk with him?"

"Of course. He's obviously lonely and is in need of a listening ear. I don't see why not. Besides, it's not like I'll ever see him again after tonight."

"You just be careful, Rose. Feelings have a way of arising...and as of now that young man's future is uncertain. Don't go doing anything foolish."

Rose rolled her eyes at the warning. Really, Molly was acting like there was a danger of her falling for this young man that she didn't even know. She highly doubted that love worked that way in real life. Only in the movies.

"I better go. I don't want to keep him waiting," Rose kissed Molly's cheek and went out to meet the young man that had captured her attention with a smile.

…..

They took Rose's car of course. It was nothing fancy. An old Ford truck that her mother had managed to purchase for her as a birthday present. Ruth had promised a better car when the family hit good times again, but Rose loved it. It may not be new, it may not have been the fanciest car she could have owned, but it was hers. Their destination was the pier and the drive was made in silence, with neither of them knowing what to say to the other.

Finally it was Jack who broke the silence.

"I reckon that I had better tell you my name, huh?" Jack glanced over at the pretty redhead, still fascinated by her beauty. Why such a pretty thing would give a guy like him the time of day was beyond him. He would have been astonished to know that she found him attractive as well. In fact, he had a hard time believing that women found him attractive at all. He always thought that his hair was too long and that he always looked younger than he was and that he was too skinny.

"It would be nice to know what to call you," Rose smiled, turning onto the exit leading to the pier.

"Jack. Jack Dawson."

Rose smiled, liking the name. It suited him somehow. He looked like a Jack. "Rose Dewitt Bukater."

"Wow, that's a long one. I'm gonna have to get you to write that one down."

Rose couldn't help but laugh. "It is a long, pretentious name, isn't it? Blame my mother."

"I kind of like it. It suits you."

"It does?" Rose looked at him, wondering what he meant by that. Did he think her pretentious?

"Yeah. Rose is the name of a beautiful flower, and you are as beautiful as a rose...and Dewitt Bukater is rather unique and you seem to be a very unique person."

"How so?"

"Well, not many girls would sit down with a stranger that's about to go to war," Jack gave a sheepish smile as Rose blushed.

"Maybe not. But then again, I think people are more compassionate than we think."

"Well...I know that you are mighty kind for talking to me like this. Especially when I'm some stranger that you've never seen before."

"Well, you looked like you could use a friend," Rose shrugged, feeling rather modest. "I know what it's like to feel alone and in need of someone, anyone to talk to..."

"It's not a nice feeling is it?"

"No it's not," Rose sighed, pulling up in front of the ocean. She was going to take him to the pier, but...she felt that they needed more privacy than that. "Here we are. Nice and private and..."

"Beautiful," Jack smiled. "I like it..."

"How old are you, Jack?" Rose asked, curious about this soldier that had come into her life somehow. She wanted to get to know more about the handsome young man beside her.

"Twenty. Not that old, really," Jack shrugged. "I probably should have already been in Vietnam. I guess I'm lucky that they had waited this long."

Looking at him, Rose felt sad. Jack wasn't much older than herself. He was just a boy, just getting started out on life and they were sending him to another country, likely to be killed. It just wasn't right. Why did they have to send them so young? Why couldn't they send older men who had lived out their lives, who didn't have years ahead of them? Why did they allow rich boys like Cal to hide out in Universities while young men like Jack, who couldn't afford higher education were forced to go to war. It made her want to rage. It made her want to go join a protest somewhere. It was just all so unfair to her.

"I'm seventeen," She found her voice again. "My last year of high school and after that...I don't know what I'm going to do. My mother wants me to get married and become a little trophy housewife..."

"You're engaged already?"

Rose nodded, feeling depressed at the thought. She didn't know why she was telling him this. Maybe she too had needed a friendly ear. "Yes. It was all arranged by my mother. I know, so old fashioned."

"Do you love him?"

Rose blinked, a little taken aback by the question. "Pardon me?"

"Do you love him?"

"Well you're being very rude," Rose looked away, her cheeks beginning to burn. She did not know why she felt so insulted by the question. She just did. What kind of question was that? Did she love him? She was marrying Cal, wasn't she? Wasn't that enough?

Jack laughed. It wasn't a rude question, but he found her avoidance both amusing and telling. "It's just a simple question. Do you love the guy or not?"

"I can't believe you're asking me this!"

"Why can't you just answer the question?" Jack grinned, struggling to keep a hold of his laughter.

Frustrated, Rose glared at her passenger. She's had just about enough of his questions. Maybe it was time to call this conversation to an end. "Jack, Mr. Dawson. You are rude, uncouth, and presumptuous and I must be leaving now..."

"Right."

"Right," She glared, waiting for him to get out of the car. "Well? Aren't you leaving?"

"Do you really want me to?" Jack asked, his voice teasing, as if he knew something that she didn't know.

Rose huffed, taken aback by his audacity. "It's my car, Mr. Dawson. I am officially kicking you out."

"Well well well. Now look who's being rude," Jack laughed.

Rose stared at him in shock, struck speechless. What could she possibly say to that? "You are so annoying!"

"Right," Jack laughed.

Rose glared at him one last time, wishing that she could punch him and push him out of the car. Just for laughing and not taking her seriously. She was about to attempt just that when she spotted the portfolio in his hands. Feeling like being rude herself, she snatched the folder from him. "What is this thing you're carrying around?"

She opened it up, not waiting for permission and was surprised to see drawings inside. "What are you? An artist or something?"

He didn't reply. He just watched her curiously, waiting for her reaction.

When she spoke next, the harshness in her voice was gone. "These are quite good? They're very good actually…," She flipped a page to see a drawing of a woman breastfeeding her baby. "Jack, this is exquisite work..."

"You think so?"

"Yes...were these drawn from life?"

"Yeah. I usually don't have much to do with my days so I just draw people I see around and about. It's pretty much a hobby..."

Rose continued to flip to the pages until she came to some pictures of some nude women. A pink blush heated her cheeks. She had never seen nude pictures before with such explicit detail. "Well well well...I take it these we re drawn from life as well?"

Jack had the decency to blush as he nodded. "If you know where to go, you can find girls that are willing to take their clothes off."

She gave him a teasing smile as she realized that he had used one of the girls more than once. "You like this woman. You used her several times..."

"She had beautiful hands."

"I believe that you must have had a love affair with her," Rose continued to tease, enjoying how his cheeks turned a shade of pink.

"No no no, only with her hands. She was a one legged prostitute...see…," He pointed out a point in the picture where there was a leg missing.

"Oh," Rose stared, a bit shocked.

"She had a good sense of humor though," he reached over and flipped through some pages until there was a lady sitting at a bar wearing a fur coat and jewelry. Her eyes were sad and spoke of tragedy and heartbreak. "This one was my best work, though. This lady comes in each night, wearing all the jewelry she owned, waiting for her long lost love. We called her Madame Bijoux. See how her clothes are all moth eaten?"

Rose was amazed. She loved art and Jack...he was so talented at it. He knew how to capture the very soul of the situation. It made her sad. Jack should be spending his time drawing and making more art. Not preparing to go to war. It's wasn't fair.

"You have a gift Jack. You do. You see people..."

"I see you."

She couldn't help preening, thinking that he was going to compliment her on her looks. She wasn't really a vain person, but she secretly enjoyed being told that she was beautiful. With him being an artist, why wouldn't he tell her the same? "And?"

His answer caught her off guard. She wasn't expecting him to go there again…

"You don't want to marry that guy, whoever he is."

Rose had no response to that. The way his eyes seemed to look into her...she knew that any rebuttal would be useless. He would know that she was lying. So she just looked away and said nothing at all, despite her pride, which was useless.

"But it's none of my business. I am sure that you have your reasons for marrying the guy," He tore his eyes away, letting her off the hook. Indeed, he knew he was right, but he wasn't going to dig, despite his curiosity. She was a stranger to him for one. A stranger who was kind enough to sit and talk to a lonely young man about to go off to war. It would be rude and disrespectful to go any further down that path.

Rose sighed. "Fine. I don't want to marry him...but...it's not like what I want matters anyway. I mean you must understand. I know that you don't want to go to Vietnam...but you don't have a choice..."

"What is it that you do want, Rose? If you could do anything in the world...what would you do?"

She looked at him, wondering if he really wanted to know. Reading real interest in his eyes, she smiled. "I would become an actress...or a dancer. I'd go and travel the world."

"That sounds awesome."

"You think so? My mother thinks that it's a waste of time and I should be wanting to concentrate on more...stable things. Like marrying the right husband and having the right manners to please society..."

"Your mother is full of shit. If you want to be an actress or dancer, you should go for it. It's your dream. If nothing else I've learned from my parents deaths...it's that life is short. We should all try to live our dreams and make each day we have count. My parents died in a fire when I was fifteen. I had always wanted to see the world, so I left Wisconsin and I've been traveling on my own ever since. It's been hard at times, but...I've seen more than I had ever thought I would and I've always made it count. I just wish...I just wish I didn't have to cut it short and go to war...but it is what it is, I guess."

Again she felt sad for him. "I'm sorry..."

Jack chuckled at the apology and shook his head. "Don't be. It's been a good life. I have no regrets…," that wasn't true. He had one. He regretted that he hadn't met Rose sooner. That these last few hours was the only time he'd have with her...that is if he didn't survive. If he did survive...oh who was he kidding? She was engaged. By time the war was over, she'd be married and out of reach.

"You know...I'd like to do that. Just drop everything and travel the world. Just head off for the horizon, whenever I felt like it."

"Well then do it."

"I couldn't possibly Jack. Too many people are counting on me and...well it's just not possible. But it sure is nice talking about it...dreaming about it. Like...say sometime we go to the Santa Monica pier in California...even if we just talk about it..."

"No, we'll go. We'll ride the roller coaster until we throw up. Drink cheap beer, and ride horses, right in the surf. But you'll have to do it like a real cowboy. None of that side saddle stuff."

Rose laughed. "I doubt anyone rides side saddle anymore!"

"Hey you'd never know," Jack grinned. "But yeah. We'll do it. You and me."

Rose sighed, picturing it in her head. Her and Jack on the Santa Monica pier. She would wear her favorite sun dress and he'd wear a t-shirt and jeans and they'd walk hand in hand, doing all the things Jack had just talked about. It would be a wonderful day. No war. No engagement to Cal. Just her and this handsome artist, enjoying a beautiful summer day…

But it was just a dream. It would never happen. She was engaged and he was going to war and may never return. It wasn't fair, but that was the cards they were dealt. It made her sad and angry. Why give her this encounter with this wonderful person...just to take him away from her in just one breath?

Jack looked at the clock on her dashboard and winced. It was time for him to go if he was going to catch that bus. He hated saying goodbye. He wanted to get to know this girl some more. He wanted to be more to her than a passing stranger. But that was all he could ever be. Unless…

"I know that you have a fiancee, but I don't care...I mean…I have no one to write to so would you mind if I write to you?" It was a bold question. One that was probably deemed inappropriate, but something inside him just couldn't let her go.

"I'd love that. I'll give you my address…," She took out her purse and pulled out a notepad and pen and scribbled down her address. "I'll write back, of course..."

"Thank you, Rose. You're very kind..."

Rose smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek, marveling at how warm his skin was. He even smelled nice. Nicer than Cal. She then began to wonder what a real kiss would be like. She was almost tempted to find out.

"I better go...I have a bus to catch..."

"Let me drive you...I mean...you'll be more likely to be on time if I drive you than if you were walking..."

Jack smiled, grateful for the offer and for the extra time granted to be with this girl. "I'd like that..."

Ten minutes later, Rose sat in her car and waved goodbye as he disappeared into the bus depot. It had been a wonderful hour that she would never forget...an hour that she would hold on to until she received his first letter…

Two days past eighteen
He was waiting for the bus in his army green
Sat down in a booth in a cafe there
Gave his order to a girl with a bow in her hair
He's a little shy so she gives him a smile
And he said, "Would you mind sittin' down for a while
And talking to me?
I'm feeling a little low."
She said, "I'm off in an hour and I know where we can go."

So they went down and they sat on the pier
He said I bet you got a boyfriend but I don't care
I got no one to send a letter to
Would you mind if I sent one back here to you

I cried
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy
Too young for him they told her
Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier
Our love will never end
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again
Never more to be alone when the letter said
A soldier's coming home

Travelin' Soldier-Dixie Chicks

A/N: I'm sorry for the lack of updates. I'm still alive. I just have a serious case of writer's block. I started this story a while back, so I'm hoping that posting it will wake the muse up and I can get back to more regular update again. This story is based on the Dixie Chicks song Travelin' Soldier. I hope that you all like it.