((I realize that something like this has been done so many times before, but ever since I watched the movie for the first time in years, I haven't been able to get it out of my head. And since this muse attacked my muses for my other fanfiction stories, I need to put it to rest. It'll be a two shot.
I own nothing. Absolutely, positively nothing.
This is a Jack Lives story. I can't get enough of them. As well as being a Jack Lives, it is also my first attempt at Titanic fanfiction, so don't be too hard on me.
Also keep in mind that I've only just seen the movie for the first time in years so my memory of some things may be a bit sketchy at points. Sorry 'bout that.))
For the short time they had known each other, they had made so many plans. So many wonderful plans that Rose had not believed they ever really would do. Perhaps it had been fate preparing her for what was about to happen, a kind of sub consious warning not to delve too far into those wonderous plans. His death had bought a terrible determination.
Terrible only because it hurt her that she would never be able to do these things with him, though she was determined to do them herself. She had promised she would never let go, and she most definately wouldn't. How could she when she had promised the man she loved, the man she couldn't save. She wouldn't let go.
It was pretty here, she decided with a smile, looking out over the water, the sand between her toes. Pretty, though her head still spun from the rollercoasters. She was never meant to go quite that fast. Although, she came to decide with a smile, it was a kind of exhilaration one could easily become used to and something her mother and Cal would have opposed entirely. Shaking her head at the mere fleeting thought of the two she had escaped, though narrowly, she shuffled her way along the pier. Time to do something she had, for some reason, been putting off as long as possible. Perhaps because it stuck so drastically in her memory along with bad fake Southern accents and spitting lessons. These memories. So bittersweet. Rose Dawson let them wash over her in the same way as the air did, rolling over her skin, brushing up goosebumps as they went before cascading off.
"Hello miss!" As if without entirely realizing it she had drifted to the stables at the far end of the beach, where a tall, wiry man was busy circling a curry comb over the coat of a rather rotund dapple grey pony. "Looking to ride?"
Rose managed a nod, looking over the pony with a smile as it chewed almost languidly on a mouthful of hay.
"Yes. Please. And, um...how much would it be?"
"Four dollars, miss."
"Four. Yes, of course." She rummaged through her pockets, pulling up the money she would need as the man slipped the curry comb back into a bucket, noticing Rose watching the horse intently.
"Don't worry, lass." He said with a grin. "You won't be riding ol' Harriet. You're too tall. We save her for the young ones. Hold on a moment, and I'll feth you a proper steed."
Rose nodded, folding her arms about her middle, glancing around the pier with a slight smile. She was glad to be here.
From the stables came the clip-clopping of easy, heavy hoofbeats and from the shadows came the keeper and a horse. Such a beautiful creature it was, too. A black coat the color of the night sky with not a white mark to be seen.
"Oh, he's beautiful," Rose whispered with a smile, stroking the velvet muzzle of the horse lovingly.
"Yes, he is isn't he?" The stable man said with an affectionate smile directed at the horse. "His name's Jack."
She froze, looking up at the man, eyes wide.
"It's what?"
"Well, Blackjack really. But we all call him Jack. He's a good ol boy..."
The voice faded off into nothing as she stroked the horse's nose, the memories hitting her like the cold water had so many nights ago.
"Miss?"
"What's that?"
She hadn't been paying attention to what the man had said, and apparently there had been a question she had missed.
"Will you be needing a sidesaddle?"
With a grin, she shook her head.
"No." She said. "No, I will not."
He shrugged, retreating back into the shadows.
This was, perhaps, even more exhilarating than the rollercoasters. The feel of such a strong creature beneath her, the feeling of clinging on with her legs for dear life as they barrelled through the surf, kicking up foam and water as they went. This was by far much better than riding sidesaddle. Letting out a whoop of glee, she let the horse run as it pleased, though she soon slowed him to an easy, rolling canter.
"Alright Jack!" She called to him with a smile, her heartstrings twanging at the feel of that name on her lips. "Easy boy."
The black horse slowed with a toss of his head, and Rose circled him 'round until he slowed to a trot and then a walk. She had ridden before, of course. Sidesaddle at a walk, straight backed and proper. Now here she was ridin' like a cowboy, one leg on each side and a picture to prove it. Because for some reason she needed proof that she had really done what she had promised Jack she would do.
He had forgotten how much he missed this place. He had forgotten its beauty, its excitement. Now he was back, drawing for ten cents like he had before. Before Europe, before Titanic...before Rose. At the very thought of her name he could feel his eyes well up with tears, and he blinked them away. He couldn't smudge the drawings when he was selling them for such an amount of money.
"Alright, just turn your head a bit to the side...good. Now hold it, okay? Don't move."
He was drawing a portrait for a young, engaged couple. Happy and in love. What he and Rose could have been. His pencil found the paper automatically, easily drawing out the curve of a cheek, the curl of the woman's hair and the strong, square jaw of the man. They had been arranged so that their foreheads touched, though they turned to look at him, each with the slightest hint of a smile on their lips, knees touching, hands clasped together in their laps.
It hadn't exactly been a particularly exciting day. There had been a few portraits such as these, a drawing of a duck (yes, a duck) for a young girl, and one he had only drawn recently of the pier itself, the rollercoaster rising and falling like a snake. He set his charcoal down, handed the drawing to the man and the woman, who smiled with delight and payed him a dime for his service. Tucking the stray drawings back into a leather folder which he tucked under his arm, he walked along the beach, whistling, to the stables. He couldn't come to Santa Monica and not ride. It was not humanly possible. Then again, neither was surviving what he had.
"Jack Dawson? That you?"
He turned with a grin to the stable hand he had known for years.
"Hey Vince. How're the horses?"
"Good. Blackjack's grown some since I last saw 'ya."
Jack had been there when Blackjack had been born, had even assisted with the birth of the foal. He was a namesake to a horse.
"Yeah? Is he around?"
"Nah. Just leant him out to a pretty lady who took off along the beach. Real pretty little creature with these mysterious, sad blue eyes. Wouldn't even ride side-saddle, said she wanted to ride like a man."
Vince shook his head in disbelief, nodding at Jack's porfolio of drawings.
"Still drawin' Jack?"
Jack didn't answer, thoughts frozen in their tracks by what Vince had said.
"Wait, what was that about saddles?"
Vince looked at Jack in confusion and shrugged.
"A lady came by wanting to ride, didn't want a sidesaddle and said she wanted to "ride with one leg on each side like a man."
The exact words Rose had spoken that day on the deck of Titanic. Before everything. Before her death, for the Carpathia hadn't had a Rose Dewitt-Buckater on board. A Rose Dawson and a Rose Creek but not his Rose. Not his beautiful Rose.
Besides, now there were probably many other women who thought as Rose had. Many who wouldn't want to ride sidesaddle.
"Will you be ridin' today Jack?" Vince asked with a grin. Jack forced up a smile and nodded, holding out money. Which Vince, for one reason or another, refused. "No payment among friends. You've done your fair share around here. Just let me find a good horse."
Jack nodded wordlessly as Vince dissapeared into the cool shadows of the stable, coming back a few minutes later with a pretty chestnut mare.
"This here is Rose."
"It's what?"
Vince glanced at Jack as if he were looking at a crazy man.
"Gypsy Rose. Rose...Are you alright Jack?"
He nodded again, carefully this time, running a hand along the horse's neck.
"I'll be fine." He said with a grin as he swung into the saddle. "After I ride for a bit. Make sure my drawings dont grow legs and walk away, would 'ya?"
Vince grinned crookedly as he began to brush down yet another horse. Taking this for a reply, Jack nudged the horse into a canter, guiding the mare towards the beach.