Ahhh. I'm really sorry…. My family decided not to inform me of the last second vacation they planned until we were in the car headed to the airport. I finally got around to my brother's laptop where I have a backup of this story and… yeah. Sorry, again. Hope you're all still reading it.

~Jillianna

Disclaimer: First Chapter.

Rose hadn't slept at all, so she got up at six thirty to bathe and get dressed. After she sat on the couch, wondering where Jack was and when he'd come to pick her up. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't hear Ted's bedroom door open behind the couch she'd slept or him stumble out. "You're up early, aren't you, love?" he asked, smiling sleepily as she turned around, almost frightened. "Oh… well, yes, I suppose I am. I didn't wake you, did I? I'm terribly sorry, I didn't mean to I just…"

Ted held up his hand to silence her, laughing to himself. "Are you always this jumpy?" he teased and Rose forced a small smile. "Jack must have his hands full," he said, loud enough for her to hear as he went to the bathroom to bathe.

Almost confused by Ted's "teasing," Rose shook it off and moved to the kitchen. She hoped he didn't mind, but she was going to fix breakfast.

It didn't take very long for her to learn where everything was, and before Ted got out of the bathroom bathed and fully clothed, Rose had already cooked French toast and made two steaming cups of black coffee. Ted had walked into the kitchen to find Rose setting up two places at his kitchen table.

"You didn't have to do all this, love. I could have just as easily…" But she shook her head, continuing to set up. Ted, not knowing what else to do, seated himself at the table and began nibbling on his French toast. "This is delicious," he muttered, impressed with her culinary skills. "Thanks," she smiled, her voice still small, sitting down across from him and taking a sip of her coffee. "Jack taught me how to cook."

Ted almost choked on his toast. "Jack…? He taught you how to cook?" Rose nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I came from a very 'well-to-do' family…" "I can see that," Ted assured her nodding. He was talking about her apparent beauty and it wasn't lost on Rose. She blushed as she continued. "But I left everything I had for Jack. I hardly knew anything of the world. He had to teach me." She smiled at the thought of her husband.

Nodding, Ted took another bite of his toast. "Where did you two meet?" he asked, sipping his coffee. "… If you don't mind me asking." Rose swallowed hard, the memories of Titanic's last hours still weighing heavily on her mind. "We were, uh… um… Sorry to be rude, but I'd rather not explain, now," she whispered, finally getting the words she wanted out. Ted shook his head, holding up his hand. "No, no, quite alright. Sorry to pry."

Rose took a deep breath before looking down at her lap. "Do you have a wife?" she asked, intertwining her hands together. "Yeah. Her name's Josephine. Real lovely girl." Rose smiled gently and glanced up, meeting Ted's gaze. "You remind me of her, actually. Very quite, very beautiful." Rose blushed, forced to look at her hands again. "Long brown hair, big grey eyes…" he seemed to get lost in a memory momentarily before snapping back to reality and smiling at Rose. He took another bite of his French toast.

"Where is she now?" Rose asked, interest piqued as she began eating again. "Oh, she's visiting her parents," Ted assured Rose, not bothering to swallow before speaking. There was something in his voice that made Rose frown, but Ted had already finished his French toast and was cleaning up his plate. "Well, Rose, breakfast was lovely. Thank you very much."

J&R

"Dawson, Jack?" Jack's head snapped up. He hadn't remembered dozing off, but it couldn't have been all too long ago, because the sun's glow was illuminating the sky last he remembered, and now it was just past the horizon. It had to be at least eight o' clock. "Yeah?" he grumbled, pushing himself off the ground and walking to the bars of his cell. The officer who had arrested him last night (Jack had discovered his name was Officer Dianna) stood on the other side of the cell.

"Mr. Dawson, could you please explain in detail what happened the night your parents were killed?" Jack scoffed, obviously insulted. "Why the hell would you wanna know? It doesn't concern you." Officer Dianna sighed exasperatedly, leaning against the bars and glancing at a piece of paper in his hands. "Could you please just explain? If I were you, I'd be pretty eager to get home to my wife. I just need to clear this little mess up and you can get on home."

Jack's eyes narrowed and he tried to see what was written on the paper in Officer Dianna's hands. "What 'little mess?'" The officer sighed and glanced at the clock on the wall. Jack took a deep breath and leaned against the cell wall. "I don't know how the fire got started, but my folks were trapped inside. I was fifteen, and I came home late. We had no close neighbors and we lived in sort of a valley, so no one even noticed anything was wrong. I had no where to go, so I stayed with a friend until the funerals, then I just… left."

Officer Dianna nodded. "Did you tell anyone you were leaving?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Only the guy who's house I was staying at. Can I leave, now?" Officer Dianna turned to face Jack, his eyes narrowed accusingly. "Are you aware that after the town held your parents' funerals, they did the same for you?"