—

It's rare that Rose wakes before Jack, and she always takes advantage of it, using the time to observe him in the light drifting through the curtains. He's asleep on his stomach, his face turned towards her and pushed into the pillows, and his is arm slung loosely over her middle. The blankets have fallen to his waist, exposing the muscles and tanned skin of his back, lightly dotted with freckles from yard work in the summer sun. His hair has also once again become more naturally golden from the sunlight, and has grown out almost to the length it had been when they met, his stubble turning into an almost full beard as he had neglected shaving since their camping trip and the time that had passed since.

Studying him, she realizes that he seems at peace and especially calm in his sleep this morning and she's glad for it. While she hadn't yet witnessed him have a full on nightmare as he had admitted he sometimes does, she knows that his sleep is often restless, and she is sure that the quality of his sleep is what keeps him rising at dawn. Now though, a little over two weeks since Julia's return, Rose has begun to notice a definite change in Jack. He seems much more settled and calm, and if he had been happy before, now he was almost constant smiles and jokes. It had been like the return of his twin had meant the return of his youthful energy and spirit— almost like the twenty-year-old Jack she had met aboard the ship. It's as if the revelation that Julia had survived had brought a piece of Jack back to himself, and in a way Rose supposes that it has. If anything he is more at peace. She, of course, has never had a twin, and she she knows that she can't even begin to imagine the bond that they share, and the hole that must have been left empty for so long. Even just observing the pair over the last week and how they interact had been fascinating to her. They share so many of the same mannerisms and expressions despite their time apart, and they seem to be able to read the others' mind at a glance, often finishing the others' sentences.

Interrupting her own thoughts, she glances at the small clock on his bedside table— nearly nine. This is almost unheard of for Jack and she hates to disturb his slumber, but knows that they really should be getting on with the day. In the hallway she can hear the tell-tale sound of Josephine's footsteps padding down the stairs with her puppy on her heels, and knows that she ought to go and at least make breakfast.

She manages to untangle herself from Jack's grasp, and he settles again, hugging a pillow to his side in her absence. After greeting her daughter with a morning hug and kiss she makes some oatmeal and fruit for everybody and coffee for Jack, talking with Jo about their plans for the day. Josephine settles in on the back porch to read, and so Rose returns upstairs, both of their breakfasts and Jack's coffee in hand.

She is very surprised to find him still asleep as she had left him. Setting everything on her side table, she crawls back into the bed, reaching out to run her fingers over the smooth skin of his back, and then up into his hair. Finally moving, she sees the lazy smile spread over his face, and his arm snakes once again around her waist pulling her close. Making her laugh, he leans forward, peppering her entire face with sleepy kisses before settling in the hollow of her shoulder, breathing her in, and his new beard tickles her skin.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

He props himself onto his elbow and looks up at her. "Mmm. Mornin' Rosebud." His voice is deep and scratchy from sleep, and the tone of it makes her stomach swoop pleasantly.

"Sleep well?" she asks him, a hint of a joke in her voice, and he chuckles.

"I did. Fancied a lie-in," he responds, adopting a posh British accent that sounds like her old butler, and makes her wonder who he's imitating, but chalks it up to a reference from his time in the UK. He often talks fondly of England, and the people he had met there during his recovery and after, and she knows he has been writing regular letters to some friends abroad.

She leans forward, kissing him soundly. "I'm glad you've gotten your rest," she tells him. "You never rest enough in my opinion."

He sits up in bed, and accepts the cup of coffee she hands him gratefully. "I don't know if that's true," he answers conversationally. "I never over-do it."

Rose can't help but give him a somewhat stern look. "You over-do it all the time, my love."

"Says the woman who's five months pregnant and still working like mad," he jokes.

"That's not the point," says Rose. "I work because I want to. I enjoy it. Miranda wouldn't let me over-do it nowadays even if I tried."

Jack smiles at her, knowing his teasing has worked, and takes a sip of his coffee, savoring the flavor. In his biased opinion , no one could make a cup as good as Rose does. It always reminded him of the cafes he frequented in Paris before they met. "I know," he tells her with a smirk. "I just like watching you get defensive."

Rolling her eyes at him, she stands, making her way to the open washroom to get ready for the day.

"Any plans today?" asks Jack.

"Well," says Rose, looking over her shoulder, "Jo is going to spend the day with William and some other kids from school out in the park. Miranda and Julia promised to look out for them and prepare lunch. I was actually wondering if maybe you and I could drive into the city for the afternoon?"

"Sure," says Jack, with a shrug. "Any particular reason for the trip?" To his knowledge, Rose hadn't expressed much interest in Eau Claire beyond going for necessities that they couldn't find in their small town without ordering them in.

He watches her as she finishes straightening out her hair, pinning a few of her more wild curls in place, before turning to face him with a rather sheepish expression. "Well," she says, walking back out into their room, one hand going to her now obviously pregnant belly, "with this baby growing, I seem to be running out of room in most of my dresses. Unless you want me going around in the nude, I'll need some maternity clothes."

Jack can't help the mischievous grin that splits his face, as she comes close enough for him to grab her hand and pull her into his lap. "You know I wouldn't mind you in the nude one bit, but you're right. I'm too selfish to let anyone else see you that way." He kisses her exposed neck, careful not to displace the hair she had just fixed. Finishing his coffee and setting the mug aside he kisses Rose one more time before allowing her to stand and moving to scarf down his oatmeal and get ready himself.

The shopping trip is successful and the day out alone together had given them time to talk about all of the changes that had come into their lives over the past few months— it had all been a whirlwind since that cold February day. Being reunited had changed their lives for the better overnight, and everything that had happened since had been just as crazy: the gossip around town, finding out about Jack's inheritance, getting married. And then there was the illness— something that still slowed young William down considerably as he had lost a lot of his strength, and then came the pregnancy revelation, and the puppy, and Jack's commission contract for the magazines, and finally the reappearance of Julia. If you had told either Jack or Rose that this is what their lives would look like a year ago, they wouldn't have believed a word of it.

Since Julia's arrival, the young woman had settled in town, renting out the small apartment next to Miranda's diner for the time being. Julia had arrived in a state of transition, and being unsure what she wants to do next now that the need for suffragette work had lessened, she had decided to stay for the time being— at least until after Rose has her baby. She had wanted to be in town to reconnect with her brother, but despite Jack's insistence that there was more than enough room for her to stay in the house, Juila hadn't wanted to intrude and had insisted on renting her own place.

Driving through town, they pass by the park where they can see Josephine and William from a distance. Will is playing catch with another boy, running around and laughing, and Jo is seated on a picnic blanket some distance away with a young girl Rose doesn't recognize, and they appear to be poring over a magazine. As they pass, Jack honks his horn to get their daughter's attention, startling Rose and making her laugh. Jo looks up and grins, waving back at her father. Rose's heart melts a little more each time she sees how Jack and Jo interact. His love for her is so clearly evident, and had just been ever-present from the moment he learned about her.

"It's nice to see Jo making friends," says Rose, and Jack agrees. Since summer had begun, Rose had consciously started allowing her daughter more freedom, and had been loving seeing her daughter begin to flourish. She was becoming less shy and reserved, and much more outspoken. Jack was of the opinion that listening to Rose, Julia, and Miranda talk of anything from Hollywood to politics had shown Josephine that women could do, say, and believe anything. Jack had joked with William one night that the two of them were the luckiest men alive to be surrounded by the best women around, and Rose knows that to Jack it wasn't a joke, but simply what he believed. She is so pleased that Jo now talks about a few friends other than William at the dinner table and is animated about their adventures and ideas. Rose is glad that she has found some girls her own age to spend time with. She herself remembers how important her female friendships had been growing up— the way she and her friends had dreamed of different lives, and had conspired against their school matrons and governesses, and adventured into the woods, dreaming of poetic more colorful lives. It was back then that she had first encountered Isadora Duncan plays, and had danced ballet, and acted in Shakespeare alongside her school peers. Finishing school indeed hadn't been all bad, as all of the girls had shared a camaraderie and sisterhood. She wants the same inspiring friendships for her daughter.

They decide, instead of heading straight home, to stop off at the diner where they know they're likely to find both Miranda and Julia. It's four-thirty, and the diner would be closing for the day, so Rose knows they won't be interrupting a rush. Jack helps her out of the car, offering his arm like a gentleman as they walk inside.

"Miranda?" Rose calls out as Jack is calling "Jules!"

The diner is seemingly empty, although unlocked and all of the lights are still on as well as the radio. Joseph, the portly cook who is finishing up for the day, sticks his head through the plating window, greeting Rose. "They headed upstairs," the man tells them. "Told me to finish and lock up for them."

They thank the man, and head for the back, through the door that leads to the stairway to Miranda's second floor flat, thinking nothing of it. After years of working here and of friendship with Miranda, this place may as well be a second home to Rose, and to Jack now, too. As they approach the top of the stairs and the doorway into the apartment they can hear music and giggles— nothing uncommon for the two women, but then another noise that has them both of them freezing in the stairwell, looking to each other with bewilderment. If it hadn't been so distinct and clear, Rose would have assumed she had heard wrong, but there was no denying the sound of a throaty moan and gasping, followed by what had to be Miranda saying "Jules," repeatedly, and "Oh, don't stop."

Rose feels her face grow hot, knowing that she must be red as her hair as she grips Jack's arm, starting to step away from the door. Glancing up at her husband, she has to stifle a laugh at the look of shock and bewilderment on his face as he stares at the door, unmoving.

"Jack!" she whisper-shouts, hoping that the occupants of the flat haven't heard them, "Come on! We'll come back later." She tugs on his arm, snapping him out of his shocked daze, and wonders fleetingly what he's thinking. Inside, the giggling has resumed and they freeze again as they hear Julia's voice coming closer to the door, calling out to Miranda to not dare move— that she would be right back with something to drink.

As the door opens, all of them are deer in the headlights, Julia and Jack's shocked faces mirroring the other comically. Julia is dressed but looking disheveled, and Rose is caught with fascination at the way both twins' faces flush from the neck up.

"How much have you heard?" asks Julia, her voice laced with fear.

"Enough?" says Jack, posing it as a question as he regards his sister, his eyebrows raised. He's still glued to the spot, leaning on his cane even as Rose shifts to take his hand.

"Shit. Jack, I didn't want you finding out this way," Julia steps evenly onto the landing, a step closer to her brother.

"Julia?" Miranda is calling now, her voice approaching, "Darling, is someone there?" The thirty-two year old woman appears from somewhere around the corner looking as rumpled as Rose has ever seen her, clad in a long dressing gown, her hair down loose and messy from its customary bun. The woman freezes upon seeing her friends in the doorway, and they all find themselves in an awkward sort of stare down.

Fear etches itself further onto Julia's expression, and suddenly she's moving, flying down the stairs, snapping everyone from their daze.

"Wait! Jules!" Jack calls, starting after his sister, and Miranda calls out for her as well, but doesn't chase. With Jack's bad leg he is much slower on the stairs than his running twin, but follows her anyway, out the back entrance and over to the doorway of her own apartment next door where the door slams shut almost in his face.

Jack pounds on the door with his fist. "Julia! Jules, open up. I know you're in there!" he shouts through the doorway.

"No!" his sister shouts. "Go away!"

"Julia…"

"Leave me alone, Jack. I know what you're going to say, and I don't want to hear it."

Jack's confusion grows. "Oh?" he asks loud enough for her to hear. "What am I going to say, Jules? I don't know what to say. I just have questions, that's all."

"Like what?" Julia yells. "You're just going to say what everyone else does. I know it. That I'm sick— that it not right to be the way I am. That I'm an abomination."

Jack is surprised by the harsh tone in his sister's voice— a tone he hadn't heard there before. He puts his hand to the door, as if reaching out for her, to comfort her, and shakes his head even though she can't see him, or maybe she can through the doorway's peephole.

"No, Jules. That's not it at all. You are not sick, or an abomination. You're my sister and I love you, and nothing at all changes that. Please open the door."

She does, just a crack, peeking out at him. "You mean that?" she asks, and he can see tears building in her eyes. "You're not just saying that so I'll let you in?"

"I mean it," he says sincerely, raising his hands in surrender. "I only have questions. Namely," he asks, meeting her eye in a steady gaze, "do you love her?"

"Miranda?" Julia asks, "I do. I really do."

Jack nods, giving a shrug of his shoulders. "Okay, then."

"Okay?" Julia's gaze is still unsure, but he can tell she is less guarded now.

He offers her a smile, lending her the assurance she needs to open the door more fully.

"So is this," he starts, unsure of what words to use, "Are you—- have you always been…"

Julia nods. "Yes. I have tried loving men, being with men, but it has never felt right."

"So, when you said that you thought you had found someone and then it hadn't worked out, you really meant that it hadn't worked out with a woman?" he asks, wanting to understand his sister's history a little better.

"Yes. Alice and I had an affair off and on probably since I was nineteen or twenty, but it just wasn't right. We butted heads too often, and with everything else going on, and having to hide from everyone around us, it was just too much. And then she met a man and got engaged. It's why I went to Boston to get away, and why I decided to come back here. I never meant for anyone to find out, especially not like this."

"And Miranda?" Jack asks, nodding up towards the other apartment they had just exited. Rose and Miranda had not followed behind them, probably sensing to get the twins some space.

Tears build up in his sister's eyes again. "I never meant for it to happen," says Julia. "I just— we just—"

"You just fit?" Jack guesses, thinking on how his love with Rose feels.

"Exactly," says Julia. "I know its dangerous, and people say its not right, but we understand each other. She seemed to know, instinctually, how I felt about everything once we met again and started talking. She was really there for me in those few days between me arriving and you coming back from your camping trip. Things have been so hard, Jack, coming back here and facing everything, and she has been such a comfort. When we were younger I always adored Miranda. We were best friends, but I never thought in a million years it would turn into this. We both know we can't be together like you and Rose can, but I love her, Jack. And she says she loves me."

"I understand, Jules." he reaches forward, placing his free hand on his sister's shoulder.

"You're not— you're not disgusted?" she asks, not meeting his eye.

"Julia," Jack deadpans with a bit of humor evident in his tone, "I think you're forgetting about all the time I spent in Paris. Some of the things I saw there would shock anyone, but you falling in love with Miranda is just as natural as me falling in love with Rose. I know its not something you can help, nor should you need to change it, no matter what society says."

"Oh Jack." Julia springs forward, hugging her brother in relief. "I just never wanted to disappoint you."

He squeezes his sister close, feeling like they understand each other better now. "You could never disappoint me, Jules. I'm just hope you can be yourself around me now— around Rose, too."

"Julia?" Miranda speaks behind them, near the back street entrance to her apartment which the two Dawsons had just run from. Jack releases his sister from their hug and the pair turn towards the voice. Miranda, now clothed in a simple dress, hair still down, is looking more timid and unsure than Jack can ever remember seeing his childhood friend. She's gripping the doorway with one hand as if staying tethered to the building is the only thing steadying her. Behind her, Rose appears and places a gentle hand on her friend's arm, looking warily between her husband, sister-in-law, and best friend. Fleetingly, Jack wonders what Rose must think of all of this. He realizes that he has no clue if she has ever been around anyone in a homosexual relationship before— although he guesses she must have. It's not all that uncommon, just unspoken, especially in the upper-class circle she used to run in. He assumes, as with lower class folk, it was simply a matter of don't ask, don't tell.

Jack gives Julia's shoulder another squeeze and nudges her forward, watching as his sister goes to Miranda, taking her hand. He can tell that both women feel more than a little uncomfortable at the moment, but Julia seems to be mustering her courage before his eyes.

"It's alright, Mira," she says, squeezing the older woman's hand, using an old nickname. "We don't have to hide or pretend around them. I should have known that already."

A look of relief floods the brunette's face, and she becomes less tense. "Oh, thank heaven. I wasn't sure how much longer we could hide it from them," says Miranda.

Rose steps past the couple, and over to Jack, looking to him to make sure the run down the stairway hadn't aggravated his leg too much, but he doesn't seem to be giving it any mind. His eyes are on the couple before them with a look of what almost comes off as pride in his eyes.

"At least around us, you never have to hide anything," says Rose. "Right, Jack?"

"Right," he says, his smile widening, glad to hear his own convictions echoed by his wife. He wraps his arm around her waist and drops a kiss onto her hair. "I think I can speak for Rose as well when I say that we just want the two of you to be as happy as we are."