Sinking with the Titanic, Rose ends up on a ship with the pirate Jack Sparrow and a sea goddess' diamond heart. When she tries to free the cursed Will Turner things get complicated, but falling for a dishonest pirate on rum withdrawal is an even wor...
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Two old men stood with their backs to Rose, admiring the Renault, discussing its many comforts in low, cracked voices. As they turned around, she recognized them despite the changes many decades had brought upon their faces.
"Jack and Jack," she greeted them.
"Rose," they said in unison.
Jack Dawson opened the door to the upholstered back seat and politely helped Rose inside.
"Would you still have wanted me when I became like this?" he asked, sitting down beside her.
"Yes." Despite his wrinkled face and white, wispy hair she felt a warmth at seeing him again. His eyes were the same, and she realized she still saw his old self when looking at him. In her mind, he would always be that boyish young man she had fallen in love with. "We would have been good for each other, I think. With you, I would have lived the life I dreamed of, and you would have become more aspiring, not just meekly accepting the role society had designated for you."
"What about me, then?" Jack Sparrow squeezed himself in on her other side, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. He had lost almost all his teeth and the two remaining ones were brown. Probably all that sweet rum's work. His long hair was iron gray and as usual held back by a red scarf under his pirates' hat.
"Definitely." She desired him even now, as strange as that was. "With you I would have had so much fun. And annoyance. An adventurous life, never knowing what the next day would bring."
"What if you could have neither of us?" asked Jack Dawson. "I'm dead, and Sparrow cares only for his ship. What would you do then?"
"Nothing. I would be with my friends, maybe marry if I fell in love with another man and he loved me too – but there is nothing wrong with living alone. I don't need a man to make me happy."
"Then I shall escort you out, love," said Jack Sparrow, taking her hand in a frail grip.
She passed through yet another door and nearly bumped into Edward Smith, captain of the Titanic, who was looking through a round window where an iceberg floated past the ship.
"Good day, Captain," said Rose, smoothing out her pants. Now she wore the men's clothes she had used aboard the Barnacle. "Is this the end of the Locker?
"That's right, Miss DeWitt Bukater. Over there are the stairs with the clock, and you will find they go two ways; up and down. You are entitled to go up, if you so choose."
"Really?" Did he imply she was worthy of Heaven? Rose felt her lips quirk up.
"Oh, don't look so smug, it's none of your doing." The captain's white beard waggled when he chuckled. "You are entitled to go up because the entrance ticket has been paid for you."
"Paid? By whom?"
"The Captain, of course! Not me, obviously, because I'm dead. I'm talking of the Captain of Heaven. He loves you more than both those Jack's put together. He paid the price so that no matter what you've done you're forgiven. Can you accept that?"
