Thank you everyone who has read and reviewed this story. I don't own anyone except the Sullivans, Charles Holloway, and Melvin Donnelly. They were made up by me for the purpose of this story.

Also, I added a poll to my page. Be sure to vote. Your votes will determine which story gets updated first.

Disclaimer: I own none of James Cameron's Titanic characters.

"So how do you like it? I call it the Gratia. It's Latin for-"

"Grace," Rose cut Samuel off, "I know."

"Fine. No need to huff at me."

"Samuel, you built a giant liner, not a yacht, despite what you think. This is what, a ten feet shorter than the Mauritania? After you're done filming, are you going to sell it to a cruise line?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Rose. It's only four hundred and eighty feet in length." Rose rolled her eyes.

"Will you just admit that you're crazy and have no idea what your doing? Let alone, you're insane if you think I'm walking onto that floating death trap."

"Frankly, my dear, I don't care."

"Well, if that's all, I'll be off." Samuel turned sharply, looking at Rose like she was crazy.

"Off? Off where?"

"To get something to eat. Margaret Brown, she spotted a picture of me in a tabloid and asked if we could meet. She was-"

"On Titanic. I know." He rolled his eyes and waved his hand. "Fine. Go. Shoo. Leave me to suffer here alone."

Rose barked out a laugh. "Suffer?" She grinned to him, "Maybe if you hadn't built this thing, you wouldn't be in such misery." Rose struck a poise like she was dying a dramatic death. One hand was on her chest, over her heart, the other over her forehead, her head thrown back, mouth open and eyes closed.

Samuel rolled his eyes at his favorite actress. There had been rumors about him and Rose with their frequent, playful banter and how close they were. People had tried to make it look like they were in love, but Sam loved Grace and Rozalia. He would never cheat on his Grace, never. Yes, his relationship with Rose was close, but he loved her only as a sister. Nothing more, nothing less.

"It is you!" Margaret 'Maggie' Brown said, jumping up. "I saw in that magazine and I thought at first that surely it couldn't be but here you are."

"Tell nobody," Rose said seriously, tilting her hat so that it covered the side of her face that could be seen from the window and sitting at the table across from Maggie. "I'm not going back and nothing you or anyone else says can make me."

"Got sick of Cal cutting your meat for you?" she asked knowingly.

"I got sick of having to keep quiet because our family was in debt and Mother was acting as if I was no more than a harlot." Maggie raised a bow at Rose. The actress looked to the waiter that stopped at their table. "Coffee, black, cream and sugar on the side."

"I'll have a cup of tea, sonny."

"Yes, ma'ams." The waiter scurried off.

"You were at the same party that the Hockleys were at a few months ago." Rose smirked.

"It's wonderful. Nathan Hockley hates me more than he did when I was alive."

"You didn't run into Cal at all?"

"He knows I'm alive. He also knows that Rose DeWitt Bukater is dead and not coming back with him." Rose laughed solemnly. Her hands were knotted on the table and she turned to watch the people pass by. "For the first time that I've known the man, we actually sat down and had a decent conversation. Most of it was said through a door, but now he knows the full truth about what happened on Titanic. I can't completely forgive him for what he did, and I can't forget what he did, but we're going to start over. We're friends now. He's sworn to secrecy."

"You seem sure he won't tell." It wasn't supposed to be a question, but went Maggie spoke it, that's how it came out that way.

"He knows this important to me. I might have mentioned in our conversation that night that if he crossed me, I would tell the world who I really was and tell them what he did and he can get arrested for attempted murder, lying to an officer, assault." Maggie's eyes widened.

"He tried to kill you?"

"He tried to kill Jack. I don't know if I want to ask him if he would have shot me or not." A hand was over Maggie's mouth, a look of horror on her face.

"My God, Rose. Why are you telling me this?"

"I need someone with an unbiased view that can back up my story if anything was to happen."

"I have to know your story first. The full story." Rose smiled and began.

"We're going to keep running into each other like this, aren't we?" Cal asked pleasantly to Rose who was sitting on the fountain at the park. She smiled up to him.

"Maybe. It keeps things interesting." He offered her a hand, and she took it, standing. He offered her his arm, and she accepted that as well. Together, they strolled around the park.

"I feel like I hardly know you." Rose shrugged.

"I'm a complicated person."

He looked at her lovingly as she admired some flowers in full bloom on the bushes that they past. He gazed at her with a fondness and adoration so great that if she had turned, there would be no doubt of his feelings for her as she watched young children running and laughing. He had little doubt in his mind as he saw the children's mother scold the two, a maid standing behind her holding a parasol over her mistress, that this might have been their children had they married.

One would have to be a son, of course, and he would want a little girl as well to adore. Somehow, Ex-wife Number Two had gained custody over his daughter, how someone who should be in an insane asylum could be aloud to have an infant was beyond him. He wanted a little girl to adore, to give Rose her heart's desires. More than that, he wanted Rose, the one thing he could never have.

"Mel!" Rose called to a man across the park, who was sitting on a bench, reading a paper, "Melvin Donnelly, I know you can hear me." The man's paper shifted and revealed Melvin Donnelly, art enthusiast and the newest publicist on the Hollywood scene, despite the fact that Hollywood was over 2,000 miles away.

"Rose Dawson," the man said, folding his paper and standing, "Might I say you're looking rather lovely today. And who might this be?"

"Mel, this is Caledon Hockley of Hockley Steel, the company that Sam bought the steel for the ship when he decided he had to go on a completely irrational mission and built himself a yacht that could pass for a small liner. Cal, this is Melvin Donnelly, publicist and editor for the Los Angeles Times."

The two men shook hands and Mel turned back to Rose. "Did Grace kill him?" Rose smiled.

"She was ready to. If Róża hadn't walked in, she might have wrapped her hands around his throat and strangled him to death." Mel chucked.

"Ah, the world knows she never would, darling. Between you and I, she'd be lost without him." Rose smirked.

"I know. Who would she else could she verbally spar with? I'd say I would, but considering how those little spats of theirs end up…"

"It's amazing they don't have a whole crowd of children." Rose's eyes twinkled, Cal noted, as she made her retort to him.

"You said it, not me."

"Look Rosie, there's a reason why I'm here. The thing is, Holloway isn't in charge anymore."

"He's not?" Rose looked absolutely startled by that news.

"Holloway's dead." Rose's face held pure horror. "He died two weeks ago. I wanted to tell you and Sam before you two heard from Holloway's lawyer. He left almost everything to Sam. What he didn't give to Sam, he gave to you. His widow is angry over this. She's sure you two forced him to change the will and then killed him, but she can't pin it to you. I know you're both innocent."

"Neither of us have seen him since September of last year, at that benefit, remember? He poured Champaign over Joceline's dress."

"I remember. But look, it would be best you if both lie low. Sam especially. Jeanette doesn't think you did it as much as she thinks Sam did. Tell him to leave the country even, to take Grace and Róża and go to some quiet place, England or France or even Portugal. He doesn't need the trouble now." Rose nodded.

"You should go to their house. It might be best if you tell Grace this first. She has a right to know."

"I know," he squeezed Rose's arm. "Be safe. You know I'm always here for you, incase you need anything. I'll send word out when you two are cleared for good from the list." Rose nodded numbly. As soon as Mel had disappeared, Rose's knees gave in. Cal was hardly able to catch her with what little warning he had. He helped to the bench to sit down.

"Oh God! That wretched witch! I can't believe she would say such a thing!" Rose's face was in her hands.

"Why would he leave you and Samuel everything?"

"Because his wife would try to spend everything. Charles Holloway is-" she took a deep breath, "Was the owner of the studio. Sam was part of the board and him and I would do anything was necessary to finish movies, plays, or whatever project we were working on. Before it was movies, it was plays and there would be cameras and cameramen, filming the plays. You see, Chuck owned a theater in Santa Monica as well as the studio. The theater was my first job after I moved there. He was like a foster father to me."

Cal nodded, sitting beside her on the bench. "I won't let you be accuse of something you didn't do. You've been here the whole time since the party. Besides, two weeks ago…"

"Sam, Grace, and I were looking at how the boat was and then the two of us took turns scolding him for having a liner built when at first he told us it was just a set, then it would be a yacht."

Cal chuckled softly, rubbing Rose's back soothingly.

"I think he's crazy, but I can't admit that near my father. He looks like a little child who just got a huge Christmas present. He's probably trying to set me up with Wife Number Three." For the first time since Melvin had told Rose the news, she smiled at him. It was a sad smile, but it was still there. Cal took this as a good sign, taking Rose's hand in his and giving it a squeeze. "Everything is going to be all right."