Thomas walks down the stairs that lead down to the third class galley and makes his way among the crowded steerage passengers, with little children running amok, and families trying to gain control of their children in various languages he had never heard of before. Across the room, Fabrizio tried his best to engage in a conversation with a Norwegian girl, as she was sitting with her family, and Fabrizio sitting across from her.
"Are you Italian, no?" Fabrizio asks, then continues, "Some English, maybe?"
"No, no. Norwegian. Only." The young woman shyly smiles at him. Jack was sitting with a young girl, and Tommy was just in front of him, as he was admiring Jack's beautifully drawn portraits. The young girl was drawing in Jack's sketchpad. Soon, her parents arrived, telling her to say goodbye to Uncle Jack.
"Good bye, Cora," Jack says, as he waves to the little girl.
Just then, something catches the Norwegian's eyes, as she tries to look past Fabrizio's shoulder. Fabrizio takes note, then turns his gaze. He taps Jack's shoulder, and he pointed to the person that was approaching them. Jack looks up to Fabrizio, then turns his attention as well, and there he was...
Thomas comes towards them, and all activity in the galley comes to a stop. There was a hushed silence, the only movement in the room was fuzzballs and specks of dirt floating, as everyone takes in the wealthy-looking heir walking amongst them. Thomas held his head in confidence, as he grasped his coat flaps, and smiles sheepishly as passengers openly stare at this young, handsome man. A few of the third class passengers stare at this young heir-looking person with contempt, others were genuinely looking at him with awe, especially from the female passengers. A shock of hair fell in front of his eyes, but he quickly brushed the hair, as a stray fell in front of his eyes again. He sees Jack, and gives a small smile at him, as he walked straight to Jack. Jack rises from his seat, and also smiles at him, while Fabrizio and Tommy gaped at both Jack and especially at Thomas, and their mouths fell open.
"Hello, Mr. Dawson." Thomas says in a quiet yet deepened voice, as he didn't want to attract attention even further. Instead, he offered a hand to shake. Jack nervously takes.
"H-hello again..." Jack says, clearing his throat.
"Could we speak in private?" Thomas gestures to the exit, as the steerage passengers clearly make room for them. Tommy was eyeing Thomas up and down, drinking in the man in front of him. Jack looks around, then slaps him on his shoulder, as both Fabrizio and Tommy looked on, as is the rest of the steerage passengers, in stunned silence, as he followed Thomas back to the upper decks.
The two stroll on the boat deck, as they passed people who were seated in deck chairs, talking and reading amongst themselves. Some of the passengers take a look at the couple, but Thomas assured them they were just merely friends. He wasn't ready to open up, just yet, especially this was seen as a scandal. Thomas knew he was more awkward than the man who felt he had to do his duty to protect him, and had a feeling for him, moreso than Caledon.
"I'd like to thank you, for earlier, Mr. Dawson..." Thomas began.
"Jack." Jack told him, with a little laugh.
"Jack." Thomas says, then clearing his throat. "I want to thank you for last night, not just for saving me, but going along with that hokey of a story."
"You're welcome." Jack says. Thomas puts his face in his hands, and shakes his head, while groaning in disgust.
"Look, I know what you must be thinking. This rich guy, he could have everything he wanted in the world..."
"No, that's not what I am thinking about." Jack takes Thomas hands from his face, and stares at him, intently. His heart was pounding, but at the same time, he kept his composure. "At all. What I was thinking...what could have happened to this boy, as he had no way to see himself out?"
Thomas then stammered. "I wasn't...It wasn't just one thing. It was everything...it was them...it was their whole world, and I am just caught in the middle of it all." he sighed deeply, brushing his hair from his eyes, while Jack looked on, perplexed even more. "Here I am, being forced to become a spectator, of a sport of sorts. All these people, participating in some sort of game, and I am forced to watch it all unfold, and to win a prize." he sighed once more. "God, I am such a fool." he then shows Jack a ring on his finger, and puts a back hand over his eyes.
"God, look at that thing! You would have gone straight to the bottom." They both gave a hearty laugh, and Jack intently eyes Thomas once more, even leaning close. A passing steward gives the two men a disapproving look, but Thomas glares at him even more. Jack holds Thomas' chin to turn him in his direction. He looks deeply into the boy's face, and into his dark, intense brown eyes, to his own blue eyes. He pulled the boy's head in for a kiss, until Thomas' eyes were averted to Jack's sketch pad.
"What's this?" Thomas asks, more of a curious tone. Jack turns red, but he reluctantly hands his sketch pad. Thomas looks inside, then at Jack. "You're an artist?" Thomas didn't wait for Jack to respond. They pull up to an empty deck chair, and both sat down, next to each other, as Jack places his hands on Thomas' shoulders, and noting how firm they were. Thomas flipped through the pages of the sketchbook. Inside were sketches of an old woman's hands, a sleeping man, probably in a park somewhere, and including a father and a young daughter on the rails. Thomas himself was an artist, though not on the same level as Jack, as he only focused on simple items. But here, the drawings were very luminous, as if though they were about to come to life. All of Jack's thoughts, were put on paper, as if he was his own camera, capturing the images and the paper was his film medium.
"These are quite good, Jack. They really are." Thomas says, as he brushes his hair from his eyes. "These are beautiful. You do have excellent talent, Jack."
Well, not as beautiful as you...I-I mean, they didn't think too much of them back in Paree."
"You've been to Paris?" Thomas was slightly surprised, that a man like Jack could get around in places like that. He continued to flip the pages until he came across a series of nude drawings. Thomas was transfixed on one particular drawing, of a young woman, posed in half sunlight, half shadows, as she appeared to be laying on the ground.
"And these women...they're models of yours?" Thomas raises an eyebrow.
"Yup. That's one of the great things about Paris. Lots of girls willing to take their clothes off ." Thomas felt a slight of uneasiness, until Jack leaned in a bit closer. A passerby walked, and Thomas had to shield the pad, while watching the passerby disappear. Thomas puts the pad back in their viewing position once more.
"You've liked this woman. You've used her several times." Thomas says, raising his eyebrow, his hair fluttering with the wind.
Jack: "She had beautiful hands."
"I think you've must have had an affair with this woman..."
"No, no. Just with her hands." Jack laughs, and Thomas thought nothing of it more. Thomas looks up from the drawings, a shock of hair falling in front of his eyes once more.
"You have a gift, Jack. You do. You see people."
Jack also looks into Thomas' brown eyes, with his blue ones.
"I see you." Jack says, his facial expression turning serious, and puts his hands on Thomas' shoulders, as he tries to see Thomas' intense eyes through his hair. "There it is. That piercing gaze again."
"And?"
"You wouldn't have jumped."
In the elegant dining room Mr. Ismay was discussing how the ship will get to New York faster, with the intent of surprising the papers.
"So, you've not lit the last four boilers?" he asked.
"No, but were making excellent time." Captain Smith says.
Mr. Ismay leans over the table. "Captain, the press knows the size of the Titanic. Let them marvel at her speed, too. We must give them something new to print. And the maiden voyage of Titanic must make headlines."
"I prefer not to push the engines until they're properly run in." Smith says.
"Of course I'll leave it to your good offices to decide what's best, but what a glorious end to your crossing if we get into New York on Tuesday night and surprise them all." Ismay gently pats Captain Smith on his back. "Retire with a bang, eh E.J.?" Captain Smith nods, rather stiffly, as he gives a small smile.
They stood at the aft promenade deck, looking out into the sunset, as they both gestured and pointed out into the horizon in front of them. Thomas brushes his hair from his eyes, then sighs.
"I wish I could be like you. Just chuck all your cares and become an artist again. Be free and travel anywhere I want, when I want." Jack laughs at Thomas' thought.
"You wouldn't last two days. There's no hot water, and no fancy dinners."
Thomas gave Jack a scowling look. "I hate fancy dinners! I'd rather have canned tuna and dry, stale bread than caviar. I've taken baths in many a freezing waters. Plus, I've ran away from home, once, and spent two weeks on my own before being eventually found." Thomas brings his fist down on the wooden hand rail of the deck.
"I-I'm sorry. Really...I am." Jack leans against the frame of the deck. He couldn't stop himself from looking intensely at Thomas. Thomas looks over, his hair covering his left eye. Jack's heart began pounding, and his throat became a little dry. Thomas was also slimmer, with a little bicep muscle bulging out of his coat arms. He had a pronounced V shaped torso, even with a loose jacket he had on. They both soon stood shoulder to shoulder, as they leaned over the railing, as the sky paints an orange hue as the sun was slowly setting. The ship's deck light soon turns on, a perfect setting.
"Say, I'll take you over to Santa Monica, sometime, to that pier. We'll drink cheap beer, get on the roller coaster until we throw up, and then we'll ride horses on the beach...right in the surf...but you'll have to ride like a true cowboy, none of that side-saddle stuff."
Thomas smiles, then shakes his head. "Oh, God. I haven't been on a horse in a long time. I know what you mean, though. I would like that."
Just then Jack hawks up phlegm, and hucks it to the sea, as it made a perfect arc as it fell to the Atlantic. "Your turn."
Thomas' mouth drops. "T-that's disgusting. But I think I can manage." It had been a long time since he had done something this disgusting, but he managed to hawk a good sized phlegm from his throat, as some spit flies from his mouth to his chin. He arches his back, then fires a good one to the sea, the giant gob flies like a comet as it trailed from his mouth into the sea. Jack was astounded, then sees some spit rolling from Thomas' mouth, and a long thread hung from his chin.
"T-that was amazing." Jack says, and he got ready to fire off another gob to the sea, when he was interrupted by Thomas' older sister and her company, as they had been watching them for some time, hawking out their loogies. Jack saw that Thomas' older sister seemed to be no older than Thomas himself.
"R-Rose. What a pleasant surprise. Rose, this is...um...Jack Dawson." Thomas stammered, as he tried to find words, and awkward the company had come out.
"Charmed." was all she could manage. Rose pointed to her younger brother he had some spit running down his chin, and he quickly wiped, same for Jack, but he doesn't know, yet. Aside from Rose, most were intrigued of the young man who had saved the life of this man. Meanwhile a bugler played somewhere that dinner was being called.
"Why do they always insist on announcing the dinner like its the damn cavalry charge?" Margaret Brown says, as everyone turned to go back into the ship. She then quickly points to Jack's spit on his chin, which he also wipes away on his clothes.
Rose grabbed her brother's arm and playfully shoved him forward, to go get ready for the dinner. Meanwhile Margaret stayed behind, as Jack tried to look at Thomas once more.
"Son. Son! You have any slightest idea what you have gotten yourself into?" Margaret asks.
"Not really." Jack shrugs, then smiles.
Well, you're about to go into the snake pit." She then frowns upon Jack's slightly disheveled clothes. "Just what were you planning on wearing?" Jack looks down at his clothes, and like a mischievous child, he smiles once more, before looking back at her. Margaret rolls her eyes.
"I figured. Let's go."
They were both in Margaret's stateroom. Her son's suits, ties and other men's wear were strewn on her bed, on the table, even on the mantle.
"You and my son are about the same size. How about that?" Margaret laughs, as Jack finishes grooming himself in front of the mirror. She hands him a jacket, then puts it on.
"My, my, my. You shine up like a new penny." Margaret says, as Jack slicks his hair back. Jack checks himself out for the last time before they left for the dinner.