Was it a sign from the heavens? As for a silly, little second, all of her misery seemed to dissipate. His hands around her waist were completely amicable and warm, as though she had been touched by an angel with love. The ice that encompassed her heart began to thaw briefly. She felt safe, as though some prayer had been answered.

As Rose turned into the warmth, she came face to face with the most beautiful, soul shaking pair of eyes that she had ever witnessed. Completely blue; the colour of serenity, a stark contrast to the black depths below them, churning as Titanic carried on her voyage into the night.

If she had not gathered herself together, she would have surrendered to them entirely, coming apart at the seams as though she was a cheap, tattered dress for the impoverished.

"Take your hands off me." Rose heard herself shriek, completely returning to reality, the ice encapsulating her heart once more. "What made you think that you could put your hands on me this way?"

The truth was, that whilst he had touched her in a place that was indecorous, a place where no man aside from her husband should, both of his hands across her waist, pulling her into him, should have set off alarm bells.

Instead, she found her vexation coerced, as though she had been taught to act in such a way towards him, and that her natural reaction was to allow the floating feeling to overcome her.

"I'm sorry, but you were about to take a swim with the fishes."

"And how should that concern you?" Her eyes gleaming with a fire burning within. He slowly loosened his grip but not enough, his lack of immediate response irritated her and she jerked in his embrace until he held her tighter and tighter.

"Because I can't turn away knowing you're about to jump down there."

"So you think by taking the decision away from me, that it is yours to make?"

"I was hoping that you were just needing a minute."

"No, I intend to jump. Let me go!"

As she struggled within his tight embrace of warmth, her fear of everything else disappeared, but the reality of the drop below was frightening as she felt the unsympathetic iciness of the whooshing void below.

"Will you come back over the rail, or will I have to jump in there after you?"

Rose whipped her head to him, but those eyes that seemed benevolent, were earnest. Realisation crept in towards her, seeping into her now comprehending mind, gears turning. Still, the guard that had firmly been put in place by the rules of society remained unwavering. "Don't be absurd, you would be killed."

"I am a good swimmer."

"The fall alone will kill you."

"Is that what you intended?" The silence was deafening, louder than everything else about them, as if the whole world had gone still and all that remained was the two of them. "I'd have been more concerned about the water being so cold."

"That's no concern of mine, now let me go or I shall scream so loud-" The kettle was about to boil over at any moment now, until he intervened.

"-no you won't."

Her mouth gaped. "What do you mean no I won't?"

"Well you would have done it already. I've been holding you for a few minutes and you've done nothing but squabble with me."

A wave of smugness crossed his handsome face and she was ablaze with fire, her arms pushing back against his solid chest. When he loosened his grip, her stomach lurched. Now she wasn't falling, the feeling made her uneasy.

"You're a distraction, go away!"

"I am too involved now." His voice was soothing. "If I let you go, you'd fall into the water."

"That was my intention."

''But why?''

Suddenly, it was as though her body had been submerged into the freezing cold water, not to claim her life but to revitalise her in the most unusual way. Why? She had never been asked that question before. No one had ever dared, or even cared to ask.

''That is not your concern,'' she snapped, but softened once he adjusted his hands upon her waist and noted that her own were atop his. They were so rough to touch, yet so gentle. She contemplated Cal's ridiculously smooth hands a moment in comparison, how they seemed to repel her the morning before when he had touched her waist in just the same way this stranger did, yet she felt so much safer in this moment.

''You know, water that cold, like right down there, it hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can't breathe, or think, not about anything but the pain. It is a painful death. Not a quick and easy one, if that was what you hoped for.'' His eyes glittered beneath the lights and they were enthralling. ''You ever been to Wisconsin-''

''What?'' She recoiled in puzzlement.

''They have some of the coldest winters around, I grew up there, damn it was cold. My father used to take my brother and I ice fishing-'' Upon her furrowed brow, he began to explain what ice fishing was, until she exploded once more. This girls fire could not be quelled.

''Good Lord, I know what ice fishing is! Just let me go!'' Rose wriggled in his grasp again, the plummet below as equally terrifying. She had every right to be angry, just when she was about to end her life, she was stopped from doing just that. Would she ever be allowed to do one thing for herself? Even in death. The thought made her blood boil. There was never any choice that she would ever be able to make for herself.

''Will you come back over the rail, and get me off the hook?''

Another fishing term. He was definitely an outdoorsman. Getting a better look at him, he was tanned from what she assumed was from his days working in the sun, which would also explain his rough hands. He was also definitely lean from perhaps a paucity of meals. For a moment, she felt sympathy for this man she didn't even know until, was it moments, hours ago? Lord knows how long they had been back here, her held captive in his steadfast embrace.

Good Heavens, she had gone silent as she had glanced over at him as though he was a suitor. His hair was far too long, a dark blonde had been flecked with gold strands where it was sun-kissed. Was he a fair child? Goodness, what did it matter? His clothes were rumpled and the laces on his boots were untied, that was enough to tell her that he was a member of the lower classes.

''You are utterly crazy!''

''Yes, they all say that, but miss, I ain't the one that let go of that rail to jump off the Titanic. Come on, I only want your hand, you don't want to do this.''

It was yet again someone else who did not know her telling her what to do, but somehow, in that moment, she believed him. She had a reason to live. She just needed to find it. With their fingers entirely intertwined. Dainty. Fragile. Soft. Feminine. As opposed to his that were rough, blackened by some kind of work.

Slowly, she began to turn, using the rail to guide her. He cast his eyes downward as he watched her feet, so that her heels wouldn't catch upon the beads of her gown. In an instant, she was all too aware of her own shivers, of how she trembled, how erratic her breathing had become. Her eyes were fully upon his. Face to face. Filling her entire universe. Her trembles became more erratic, and she fell into his chest further. Even with the rail separating them it sent sparks across her body, small ones that started in her belly and spread to her fingers. It was like nothing she had felt before. The fire that had once been stoked with her anger had been replaced with a new emotion that she couldn't pinpoint what it was.

''I'm Jack. Jack Dawson.''

With his hand still holding onto hers, he introduced himself, with a slight smile. A handsome smile.

''Rose. Rose DeWitt Bukater.''

''Wow, that you may have to write down for me.''

She laughed. Slightly. And then, her heart fluttered about, the sparks had blossomed into butterflies. She had only read such lines in her dime novels she had tucked away in her bed chamber, and had heard hushed voices of other society girls talking of their new beaus and courtships. Is this what they meant?

How could he make her smile after what had transpired?

''Is that short for anything? Roseanne, Rosemary...''

''No, just Rose. A simple name.'' The vulnerability within her soft voice, in comparison to the stark shrill of when he had first encountered her, was vast. She felt calm, felt erratic, felt angry, felt as though every single emotion that had bubbled over was now on the head of a pin and she could only feel them vanish when he looked at her.

''Well, then, Rose, I am pleased to meet you.'' Jack tapped his shoulder. ''Place your other hand here, come on, let's get you this side of the rail.''

Rose's quvering left hand landed atop his shoulder, and through his thin shirt, she felt the strength of the muscles working there to hold onto her. As she raised one foot to propel her upwards, his hands grasped onto her waist tighter. ''I have got you, Rose. I will not let go.''

Jack's gentle tone seemed to calm her enough to listen, especially the use of her given name so directly as though they were thoroughly familiar and acquainted. She had never been as close to another man as she had right now, and as she raised her leg to step upon the rail, she was leaning forwards with almost her entire upper body being supported by a stranger.

''Good, now raise your leg and put it over the rail.'' With her entire body shaking, Rose's entire focus was on the gentle instructions that he gave. Jack used both of his hands to clutch onto anything which he could to pull her to safety. Her hands rested on his shoulders and as he pulled her, she felt as though she was going to slip backwards. Jack must have sensed her panic as he grasped at her shoulders, her waist, her gown, and then finally, once Rose put her arms around his shoulders, and fastened them tightly around the nape of his neck, Jack drew her upwards, sliding her body over the rail in one smooth but shaky haul, as he turned to stand Rose upon the decks, his robustness had given out and his own legs buckled and sent them both clattering to the floor of the deck, in a mess of limbs, panting with such adrenaline it was frightening.

Rose was trembling below Jack, as his body covered hers, even the smallest contact was enough to enkindle such a reaction. His hands braced at her shoulders, her hands still fiercely clutched around the nape of his neck as though her life still depended on it. He must have felt her shudders, and she smelled how close he scent was, his breath and then, for one serene moment, he drew himself away in order to examine her; their gazes were locked together in an intense reverie. Those wide, shining eyes, raked over her and she mirrored him unconsciously; noting the way which his shirt had torn open, exposing his chest, his hair was dishevelled and now hung in his eyes, and then, Jack, in turn, allowed himself to see how her erratic breathing caused her breasts to press to his thin shirt, her wildy pumping heart could be felt beneath him and it matched his own in acceleration. Her tears flowed freely, warm on her chilled cheeks. For a fleeting moment, she was serene enough to almost wish that he would reach down to wipe them away and whisper reassuringly just how she would be all right now.

Quickly, Jack moved to his feet and extended his hand to Rose.

''Are you all right?''

Jack helped Rose to her feet, assisting her to a stance, and with cat like reflexes he caught her waist when her legs began to buckle. To protect her modesty, Jack draped his outer coat across her shoulders and pulled the lapels to a close to ensure that her décolletage was not exposed. She had forgotten just how much she had torn at herself in her stateroom. Forgotten just how much of a tangle she had been in. Now, some of it seemed to be discarded and relinquished, she felt utterly foolish and yet, it was how she felt her life to be.

''I think so.''

Rose could feel him watching her, but not as though she was under scrutiny. The jacket was large and shapeless but still, she welcomed the warmth of it, the smell of him subduing her nerves. Now that she was back on this side of the rail, the North Atlantic chill was biting at every single part of her exposed skin. She eyed him, catching his gaze now and again until she narrowed her eyes at his rumpled clothes.

''What were you doing out here so late alone?''

Jack thrust both of his hands into his pockets, and almost smirked in amusement.

''Pardon me? I am not the one who was about to go swimming with the fishes.''

''What were you doing?'' Rose probed again, ''what kind of man is about alone, past midnight?''

''What kind of well-brought up girl is?''

Rose felt utterly stomped on. Her teeth were chattering, her entire body stiff and the tears which had once flowed were now completely dry and her eyes stung, ached and simply felt heavy, no doubt the makeup Trudy meticulously and carefully swiped onto her porcelain face before dinner had smeared and streaked. Why was he suddenly the one to blame? She had no clue. She was exhausted beyond belief suddenly.

''I appreciate your concern, Mr. Dawson, but I should like to return to my stateroom.'' Rose stuttered, raising her chin. ''You were the one who disturbed my-''

''Then, perhaps I should have let you fall to your death, huh?'' Jack raised his voice above hers and she was utterly taken back by the way that he spoke to her, in a quick second, he softened. ''I was admiring the night's sky, and you ran straight past me and over the rail, so, actually you disturbed me tonight, first.''

Suddenly, maddened with the fact that Jack had answered her, and seemingly ''won'' her little game, Rose turned on her heel to leave so suddenly and abruptly that she almost lost her footing once more and her vision blurred, her head spinning. A pair of hands were at her waist once more before her vision cleared momentarily and Jack was in front of her again, mere inches from her face and to Jack, then it all went hazy.

''Have you finished?'' Jack whispered, lost within the depths of her innocence. ''Rose, I will not tell anyone about this if that is what you are afraid of, I would not tell anyone the truth tonight for it is our secret.''

''Who sh-should you tell?''

Rose trembled beneath her gown. Beneath his touch. Her lips quivered. Her eyes searched his. Perhaps they looked for the trust, or for a reason that he was lying, but Jack only gazed back solemnly. Was he truly a stargazer? Is that the real reason that he was out here alone? She dreaded to think what any alternative could be, but he did not seem the type.

''No one .''

''Alright, I-I trust you.''

There, an affinity of some sort had been arranged, unwillingly, unknowingly. Forever changing the course of everything.

''Good.'' Jack allowed his hands to release her waist and instead, came up to steady her using her left hand. His fingers grazed along her engagement ring, and if he noticed the size of it, he said nothing and simply let go of her, slowly, as though she was unable to withstand her own weight.

''May I escort you back to where you need to be?''

''Yes.''

Silently, Rose started towards the First-Class entrance in a slow, steady walk, feeling how he glanced at her every now and again as though checking her safety thoroughly, she had to admit, that she felt quite safe, quite unnerved yet quite fascinated by his consideration of her security.

''I am quite all right.''

''I know, I just want to make sure that you don't make the deck your pillow for tonight.''

The walk back to the warmth of the interiors of the ship was hushed. Jack could only stay a step or two behind Rose as she attempted to neaten her hair, brushing her fingers through it, pinching at her cheeks for colour, and swiping away any last tears which had fled from the emotional wave of an evening. Every minute or so, she would catch a small glance behind and it was at the B-Deck corridor that Jack walked beside her, with his hands moving his hair away every few seconds, and she could hear the faint strings of the band, the smallest of chatter, Rose's heels clattering on the wood of the floor which were then muted when she stepped onto the the carpet.

Eventually he could make out how her breathing had returned to regularity aside from the occasional sigh. It was strange how not so long ago, she had run down this very corridor with a completely different mindset. Now, however, she felt somewhat calmer.

Coming to an abrupt stop outside cabin B-52, Rose appeared to collect her thoughts, linking her fingers and began what appeared to be a troubling sentence before the stateroom door opened-

''Rose!'' Cal stepped out, completely ablaze with worry. Catching the glance of Jack, he completely straightened himself. ''Just what is going on? My God, look at you, you look a fright!'' He tore the jacket which Jack had provided her with and shoved it towards him as though it was soaked in poison and placed his own evening coat over her shoulders. ''Who might you be?''

''Cal, this is Mr. Dawson, he was of some assistance to me this evening after I almost fell overboard trying to get a better look at the uh, '' she spun her finger around in circles , eyes closed in thought "uh.." Cal glanced at her fingers, his getting the idea, "Propellers?" he offered. "Propellers" she confirmed, opening her eyes, casting a glance at Jack, begging him with her eyes for his discretion. Jack put his jacket on, and glanced at Cal, amusement within the depths of his beautiful eyes. Beneath the lights in the corridor, they were startling. ''I should like to invite him to dinner tomorrow evening as a thank you,'' Rose slowly walked towards Jack, almost pleading with her eyes, ''would you accept the invitation to join us as 'thanks'?''

Slowly and apprehensively, Jack glanced between the two of them, his eyes giving nothing away, before taking a moment to respond. ''Sure, count me in.''

Cal stepped forward, placing his hand upon Rose's shoulder and she was startled. ''Good, it is settled then. Come, Rose, we must get you settled for the evening.''

She could only return to the world in which she had left just hours ago, anticipating that she would never return, when in fact, she was even more unsettled than she had been before. In fact, she felt completely rattled as the door to their stateroom closed, leaving a bemused Jack to return to his own accommodations for the night.

The precipice was still there, but she felt on the edge of something else now, but did not quite know what.

One guessed that only time could tell what it was.