Author's Note: Sorry, guys—I've had this one done for a while (actually, now I'm done up to Chapter Eleven…) but I just never got around to getting onto a computer and uploading it. Most of the comments and posts I've done for the last few weeks were on one of my brother's laptops or from my phone/iPod. However, I have been writing and have most of the rest of the story planned out… I've just got to put them into coherent sentences and post them. :-)

I hope no one minds too much, but I skipped ahead to their first night in New York instead of having several fluffy chapters that would get nowhere in the plot line. Enjoy. Reviews make me happy. :D

~Jillianna

Disclaimer: Chapter One.

"Well, at least the damned White Star Line had enough decency to rent the survivors rooms," Jack mused as he entered the small two-bed hotel room. "I still don't think we should be sharing a room, though." Rose came up behind him, shaking her head and wrapped her arms around his midsection as she kicked the door closed behind them. "I don't see what the big deal is," she whispered in his ear, seductively, "After what we did on Titanic."

Jack tried to suppress his grin as he removed Rose's arms from his waist. "I was raised a good Christian," he countered, putting on a stern face to hide his real feelings. "What happened on Titanic was spur-of-the-moment." She walked by him innocently and looked up at him with big eyes. "Tonight could be spur-of-the-moment."

Rose sat down gently on the bed closest to the door and Jack lay down on the other one. "On a more serious note," he began, rolling onto his side to face her. "What're we going to do? Where are we gunna live? Do we even have any money?" Rose looked thoughtful for a moment before she lay down on her back, staring at the ceiling.

"We could drift. That answers all three—we won't have to worry about where we live or how much money we have." Jack scoffed, rolling back onto his back. "That's hardly the life you would want to lead. I couldn't take you to live like that. Do you know how many times I almost got killed?" "You're still alive, aren't you?" Rose countered instantly, gently closing her eyes.

"I'm sure I still own property in Wisconsin," he muttered, and Rose nearly picked up on it, her eyes shooting open. "What was that? Did you say something about Wisconsin?" She turned her head to look at him, pure excitement in her eyes. "No, I didn't say anything," he replied as his cheeks reddened, and he did his best to hide it. "Besides… I wouldn't wanna go live there." Rose frowned. "Well why not?" Jack rolled over to face the wall on the far side of the room.

He was silent. "Jack?" Rose asked, sitting up. He grunted in acknowledgement but still didn't move. "Jack, what's wrong?" "We could live in Maine," he said almost instantaneously, still not turning over. Rose arched her eyebrows and picked up on his change of topic. "Maine? What's in Maine?" Jack grunted, finally turning back over. "Lots of islands and ocean. It's nice and cold in the winter and not too hot in the summer." Rose winced and sighed.

"I don't particularly want to be near any body of water for a while, much less a cold body of water." Jack shrugged. "Okay. Well, we could always stay in New York, for a while." Rose nodded. "Sounds okay to me."

"Jack?" Rose said aloud, her voice almost terrifying in the pitch-black room. She blinked rapidly, trying to regain some vision, but it was no use. "Jack…" she said louder, pushing the covers back and sitting up. "Jack!" To her right, there was the sound of a muffled yell as something hit the floor, causing a loud thud to echo through the room. Rose sat motionless, too alarmed to move.

She gulped hard, finally finding her voice again. "Jack…?" she whispered and she heard something move in the room. "Rose?" A blinding light flashed on suddenly and Rose squinted to see Jack standing on the other side of his bed, one hand on the single lamp in the corner of the room, the other arm resting at his side.

His hair was everywhere and his blue eyes were bloodshot. The boxers he had worn to bed were wrinkled and he slouched where he stood. Rose almost laughed in spite of herself before Jack spoke again. "What? Is something wrong?" She pulled the bed sheets up to her neck, suddenly embarrassed. "I… I had a nightmare." Jack almost smiled, seeming somewhat relieved. He climbed over his bed and sat on the edge of Rose's.

"You're okay, though?" he asked lovingly, rubbing her leg through the sheets. She nodded very seriously, looking at him with wide eyes. "I thought that…" she cut off abruptly, looking down at her lap. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have woken you. I feel so stupid now."

A look of concern crossed Jack's face and he crawled over to where Rose sat on her bed. "Rose, don't. You were scared, but I'm here, remember?" He placed his arms gently around her body and she leaned into him, breathing in his scent. "I remember…" she whispered. Jack gave her a quick kiss on her forehead before climbing out of her bed and back into his own.

He reached for the lamp, about to turn it off, when he looked back at Rose. "Do you really wanna stay in New York?" he asked, tilting his head. Rose frowned at the spontaneity of the question. "Sure… Well I don't care. As long as you don't leave me and go back to France to be with your prostitutes." Jack let out a laugh before pretending to be offended. "I would never!" he cried, before turning out the light.

Neither spoke again until Rose once again heard Jack's easy and measured breathing, the gentle pace of sleep. "Goodnight, Jack," she whispered into the darkness. "I love you."