A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks to all those who reviewed! It means so much! :D Sorry for the wait. The last chapter was posted around the beginning of the holidays, and you know how busy those can get. I also had a lot of projects and homework around that time, ya know, teachers tryin' get their stuff in as much as they can. I tried to make this chapter more describing in paragraphs rather than dialog, although much of the dialog is directly from the movie. I don't own anything that the characters say... I guess. IDK. When you get to the part where Quinn tries to attempt to jump off the ship, (and where Sam and Quinn meet for the first time!) I'd super duper appreciate it if you would read that part with the song 'Unable to Stay, Unwilling to Leave'. It's part of the 'Titanic' soundtrack, and it'll just make the experience so much better. That's it. But I'm back! Please enjoy!

^.^

The ship's funnels shot out steam from above, blowing into the pure blue sky complete with fluffy white clouds sitting on the top of the world. Below Titanic, white waves from the azure blue ocean, smashing itself against the brilliant black coat of paint as well as pushing away and sifting into the mighty waters of the Atlantic. You could stand at the most front of the ship and look at the millions and millions of miles the water stretched for and intake a deep breath of the salty sea air and let all your troubles melt in with the water as it swam on and on forever without ever stopping. All across Titanic, passengers were roaming the vessel, footsteps scattering on the wooden boards, as heavy iron balls were kicked around by bored men and boys and first class women sat on the deck, gossiping about the latest in America. Couples strutted down the deck, the women holding small umbrellas against the shining sky and the men held their delicate hand in his own, as they discussed whatever they were in the mood of talking about. Down below, the other passengers had just as much energy as the ones above. They were on Titanic. The world's largest vessel. Their dreams had come true, truer than it could have ever gotten. The band was practicing, playing classical pieces of music by Archibald Joyce and whatnot. The sweet sounds of Songe D'Automne swept the prim and proper ladies and gentlemen off their well polished feet. The captain took another sip of his cooling tea, knowing his crew had did a job well done. The sun shone above them, above all of them, and it seemed at that moment that everything in the world was right. No commotion and no hate. No anger. The world was at peace and nothing could go wrong because it was just too perfect, and too much to ask for as the bold British flag waved and wagged at the end, a sure sign for strength.

…

"She is the largest moving object ever made by the hands of man in all of history. And our master shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews here designed her from the keel place up," Bruce Ismay said while smiling at a luncheon along with some first class passengers aboard Titanic, including Quinn, Finn, and Judy.

"I may have knocked her together but the idea was Mr. Ismay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale and so luxurious that it's supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is," Thomas Andrews pounded the table the group was currently seated at lightly, "Willed into solid reality."

"Hear hear."

The dining room where the small group was currently seated at was misty. The temperature was cool and breezy, as they were sailing in early April. Potted plants were placed practically every 5 feet and other tables and guests scattered the Victorian carpeted floor, as wisps of smoke were in the air, blowing onto people's faces while they tried to make interesting conversation with similar clones of theirs, practically with the same DNA.

Quinn was bored of the conversation and picked up a long and thin cigarette, lit it up, and blew out a puff of grey smoke as she exhaled. Judy saw Quinn do so, and was quite tired of her acts, so to say.

"You know I don't like that, Quinn."

Quinn looked at her mother straight in the eyes and blew a stream of smoke right onto her face. Judy turned away and Quinn knew that the conversation was finished.

"She knows," Finn said, and grabbed the cigarette out of her dainty, white gloved hands and into a white and clean ash tray, killing the smoke. A waiter came to the table and politely asked Finn what he and Quinn would be having for lunch.

"We'll both have the lamb, rare with very little mint sauce." Finn's eyebrows furrowed slightly, scared that he had ordered the wrong thing for Quinn. "You like lamb, right sweet pea?"

Quinn put on the most fake smile as her crimson red lips stretched across her angelic face.

"You gonna cut her meat for her too there, Finn? Haha," Margaret Brown asked, as Finn gave her a look that made her rather embarrassed. "Hey, who thought of the name 'Titanic'? Was it you, Bruce?"

"Yes, actually," Ismay answered with his light British accent, "I wanted to convey sheer size, and size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength."

Quinn gave him an annoyed look as if to say, 'I don't even care about anything you are blabbing about'.

"Do you know of a Dr. Freud, Mr. Ismay? His ideas about male reoccupation with size might be able to interest you."

Andrews and Molly Brown chuckled a bit at Quinn's childish side, as they were another two on the ship who weren't as uptight and fancy as all the other brainwashed ones, although Judy was not pleased by Quinn's obnoxious attitude at all; to her, it was the rudest thing to say to a master shipbuilder right then and there.

"What has gotten into you?" Judy whispered to her daughter. As a child, Judy Fabray was a young woman full of manners. Her parents had taught her that, and she intended to live by that rule for the rest of her life, as well as passing it onto her prestigious daughter, but apparently, Quinn had other plans; plans that would destroy their family, leaving them with no money and out on the streets, Judy working as a maid and Quinn with an improper education and early adult life.

"Excuse me," Quinn said as she pushed her wicker chair back and freed herself from the horrid world of whatever the hell she got herself trapped into.

Judy shook her head and sighed.

"I do apologize."

"She's a pistol, Finn. Hope you can handle her," Molly said with a chuckle, one after another.

Finn was quite annoyed by this woman.

"Well, I might have to start minding what she reads from now on, won't I, Mrs. Brown?"

Ismay sat down his previous standing to try to calm Quinn down.

"Freud... who is he? A passenger?"

…

Sam was on the third class passenger part of the ship, watching as a father and daughter pair looked beyond the railing and into an ocean of wonders. Two boys were right next to them, kicking around a heavy ball on the wooden floor of the deck as the sun shone above everyone. Sam had his notebook out and quietly sketching the father and daughter as he took her hand and pointed to things in the deep blue waters.

Sam had chosen a scene he had seen earlier with them, as the father had his arm wrapped around hers protectively. And even though it was just a sketch of his, it was quite breath taking. The shading of everything was so precise. The small 3 inch piece of charcoal he could afford was put to good use by him, as he scribbled on layers as the background and outlined certain parts of their body to make things stand out or hide behind the parts that were more important. The way Sam made every single little contour of their faces appear as if you were looking into an old black and white photograph made you confirm the fact that Sam definitley knew what he was doing.

Fabrizio started to make conversation with another third class passenger who was sitting beside him and Sam.

"The ship is nice, huh?"

"Yeah, it's an Irish ship," the man answered, with an obvious Irish accent in his deep and broad voice.

"It's an English ship, no?" Fabrizio asked.

"No, it was built in Ireland. 15,000 Irishmen built this ship. Solid as a rock. First class dogs come down here to take a shit," which made possible to sound like 'shite', thanks to his beautiful accent.

"It lets us know where we rank in the scheme of things," Sam elaborated.

"Like we could forget?" The man put his cigarette back in his mouth before reaching to shake Sam's hands. "Tommy Ryan."

Sam took it and shook back.

"Sam Evans."

"Fabrizio," he introduced as he always took Tommy's hand for a friendly shake.

Tommy glanced at Sam's sketchpad.

"Hi. Do you make any money with your drawings?"

Sam would have answered, he could have answered, and he was about to answer until his little blonde thoughts were interrupted big time. Above in the first class part of the ship, a girl came into view. And it wasn't just any girl. She wasn't just some ordinary girl like all the other first class ones. She was stunning, absolutley beautiful. Her long dirty blonde locks were tied together loosely into a messy bun. Her hair wasn't nearly as blonde as Sam's lemon juice mop. She was wearing a light green dress, full length, and it hugged her curves snuggly. The color of her dress was exactly like her eyes. Those eyes. They were just amazing. He hadn't seen anything as those gorgeous hazel orbs. Exactly! They weren't green; they were a hazel, a light and dark green at the same time, a color you would see if you were to look in the forest for a little baby leaf just grown on a branch of a tiny plant, sprinkled with morning dew and raindrops. Her eyes. Those eyes. They were striking.

Tommy noticed that he was distracted and so he turned his head in Sam's direction. "Oh, forget it boyo. You'd like to have angels fly out of your ass."

Too bad Sam never took any shit from anyone. He kept staring at her. Kept staring at her eyes; those eyes. His blonde strips of hair blew in his face, sometimes hiding some of her face when he was looking, but he didn't care. Those Goddamn eyes. He had never seen anything like them. The way they were mightier than the sun, which currently shone against her figure.

Quinn laid her arms out on the railing, and sighed, finally getting some fresh air as she noticed something at the corner of her eye. She glanced over, thinking it would be nothing. But it was something. A handsome thing. And he wasn't a thing; he was a man. A man with blonde hair, blonder than hers. She noticed that he was in third class, but then again, as if she gave a damn. She quickly averted her previous gaze at him, but Sam was even faster, and was very smart, and saw the girl look back at him.

Quinn couldn't help it though. He was quite handsome. Thinking it would do no harm, she glanced over at him again for the last time.

Fabrizio waved his arms across Sam's face, and laughing when he didn't react.

Quinn kept him grip on the barriers, staring for the miles and miles the ocean lasted for until Finn came up from behind and led her back inside, like every other day, and like every other moment of her life.

…

I saw my whole life as if I already lived it. An endless parade of parties and cotillions, yachts and polo matches. Always the same narrow people, always the same mindless chatter. I felt like I was standing at a great precipice with no one to pull me back, no one who cared or even noticed.

Quinn's red heels clanked on the wooden boards of the deck of the ship as she ran. Her nice and neat hair that was pulled back in a bun earlier for the dinner with her mother and Finn was now flinging across her shoulders as she pushed a couple out of her way and they scoffed, nearly knocking over a gentleman's champagne. She just ran, and didn't give the slightest damn to where she headed, but knew exactly where she was going. Her tears streamed down her face and you could hear weeping all around the ship. She opened a white gate, leading down to the third class part, and made her way down. She kept on running; just running. As the extent to the third class part ended, she made her way up another flight of stairs.

Sam was on a bench, in a sleeping position, smoking a cigarette, staring into the dark and black night filled with stars hidden behind the invisible clouds in the ocean sky. And like the water, it seemed like the pitch black sky went on for miles and miles, like it never ceased to exist. As he blew out a wisp of smoke, the white-ness of it contrasted with the night.

To Sam's right, the tacking sounds of high heels flooded into his ear, and a woman ran past him in a hurriedly fashion. He quickly got up and laid his right arm on the top of the bench... when he saw the girl that he'd seen earlier that day.

Quinn continued to run to her destination, gasping for air since her dress was so tight and the night was so cold. She stopped at a water fountain and grasped onto the edges of it, inhaling deep as her blonde locks were sticking to her face because of the sweat forming.

She breathed deeply, in and out. Her tears that were struggling not to fall from her pale hazel orbs were now failing as they cascaded down her cheek, trembling. Quinn's light make up was smeared across her face, and she couldn't speak. She couldn't think straight, couldn't see straight. All the sights in front of her eyes were blinding, and it made her dizzy in the head as the world spun around and around.

There was only one solution to such a disease... or at least it was the only solution to her.

Quinn started to make her way to the stern of Titanic. She took slow steps, knowing that she had all the time in the world. Her pace was patient and her heels made little 'tacks' on the floor. Slowly and slowly, she made her way to the point where she couldn't go any further... not to her though.

That was it. She had had enough of this world. Enough of all this mindless shit and crap driven towards her. How everything she did had to go by the rules; it had to. She couldn't make her own rules. Or better yet, how about not any rules at all. Drink your tea, do not smoke, have good posture, do not slouch, greet everyone with a smile "bright enough to cure cancer"; she had had enough of it. Just enough.

She turned back to see if anyone was looking, gasping as she did so, even though no one was there... or so she thought. Quinn peered over the railing, over the barrier that could either save her life... or end it. She saw the rumbling waters below. It was loud, and her ears kind of hurt. In the light that she had from the little lamp hanging above her, she could make out the color of the ocean; black. Even the white waves you could see in the morning and afternoons couldn't be made. The waters were fierce, and they roared at the bottom of the ship, practically calling to Quinn.

Quinn's trembling hands slowly made their way to the fence, a fence that was capable of saving her life. She held onto them with no effort, her quivering fingers just barely hovering over.

As she started to stand onto the railing, her hands gripped harder, and she slipped one of her heels into a space, unaware that the long cloth and beads from her fancy dress could get caught any second and she wouldn't have had any time to untangle it since she would already be plunging into the icy cold waters of the North Atlantic.

Quinn put both her feet on now, and held onto the post with the lamp tightly and dearly. The thoughts of whether she should do this or not swiveled in her mind, but knew that if she didn't, the pain and torture would continue to happen and whip her soul every day.

She put one of her legs over the railing, sitting on it, and pushed away a part of her dress that was getting in the way. Quinn put the other leg over, and now both of her legs over the railing while her grip on the pole was still strong.

As Quinn lowered herself to the point where she almost eye level with the barrier, she looked out onto the ship's deck, saying a silent goodbye to everyone. To her mother, to Finn, to her father (whom she'd meet up in Heaven)... to the blonde man she saw earlier today drawing in the afternoon.

She turned around, her back facing the people and the rest of the ship while her face met her fate.

The wisps of her hair blew onto her face, and she kept on inhaling deep breaths like she had been every since she ran out from her room. Her chest heaved, up and down. She looked incredibly pale and it didn't help that it was freezing outside while she only wore a dress.

Her arms stretched out and she drifted in the air. Her eyes were full of worry, and she didn't want to do it. She really didn't.

But what other choice did she have?

"Don't do it."

She heard the voice, surprised to see anyone here at this time, at this place and part of the ship. At a moment like this she was forced to do anything to keep anyone from distracting her, even if it meant her not yet recognizing the face that she had seen today.

"Stay away!" Quinn warned. "Don't come any closer." She tried to sound intimidating, and didn't know if she succeeded.

The man started to walk closer to her. And he came nearer and nearer, she knew. It was him; the one who was drawing today on the third class part of the deck. The one who was now trying to convince her out of suicide.

"Come on, don't do it. Just give me your hand and I'll pull you in," he said while he offered his hand.

"No! Stay where you are! I mean it! I'll let go!"

Quinn turned around again, her back to the man and she braced herself to what he was going to say.

Sam didn't know exactly what to do, what to say, but he was smart; smart enough to think of a plan in less than 2 seconds. The girl turned around again, and he hesitantly took his cigarette out of his mouth. Moving closer to the edge of the ship, he was indicating to her that he wasn't about to pull her back on board, although he intended to, but instead throw the cigarette into the water.

He did so, putting his hands into his pocket and said,

"No, you won't."

The two looked at each other in the eyes, green meeting green, and she heaved another breath.

"What do you mean, 'no, I won't'? Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do; you don't know me!" Quinn practically scolded.

Sam shrugged.

"Well, you would have done it already."

"You're distracting me; go away!"

"Can't. I'm involved now. You let go, and I'm gonna have to jump in there after you." Sam started to remove some of his garments, taking off his coat first.

"Don't be absurd. You'll be killed."

Sam started untying his shoelaces.

"I'm a good swimmer."

"The fall alone would kill you."

"It would hurt, not saying it wouldn't. To tell you the truth," he said while taking his left shoe off, "I'm a lot more concerned about that water being so cold."

Quinn looked down at the water as she pondered a bit, and Sam looked at Quinn, knowing that his job had officially started.

"How cold?" she asked after a little moment of silence.

"Freezing. Maybe a couple degrees over."

He took off his second shoe, the right one, and thumped it on the wooden boards. She stared at him with a questioned look on her face.

"You, uhh... you ever been to Minnesota?"

Quinn looked back at the ocean with her eyebrows furrowed and then back at him with a face practically screaming, 'what the hell are you talking about?'.

"What?"

"Well, they have some of the coldest winters around. I grew up there near Buckman. I remember when I was a kid, me and my father, we went ice fishing out on Lake Winnibigoshish. Ice fishing is where you-"

"I know what ice fishing is!" Quinn spewed in exasperation.

Sam jutted his bottom lip out in a manner of apology while raising his eyebrows (which he'd later find out was Quinn's specialty) and put both his hands up to defend himself.

"Sorry. You just... seem like, ya know, kind of an indoor girl." He sucked in his cheeks and gave the eyebrows another whirl. "Anyway, I, uhh, I fell through some thin ice. I'm telling ya... water that cold... like right down there... it hits you like a thousand knives stabbed all over your body. You can't breathe... you can't think... at least not about anything but the pain."

Quinn sucked in her breath before averting her eyes to him.

"Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in there after you," he told her while unbuttoning his second layer and tearing it off his body, leaving him in nothing but a light brown shirt, "But like I said, I don't have a choice." He looked at her with welcoming and firm eyes as her scared and worried ones met his. "So I'm kinda hoping you wanna come back over the rail and get me off the hook here."

"You're crazy!"

"That's what everybody says, but with all due respect, Miss, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship here. Come on. Take my hand. Don't do this."

He put his hand out for her to hand, and after a short while of thinking this all through all over again, she gently and slowly took it and he grasped onto her's without any hesitation. Her feet slowly turned around, step by step until she faced him fully.

"Whew. I'm Sam Evans."

"Lucille Quinn Fabray."

"I'll have to get you to write that one down."

"Bah!"

"Come on."

Quinn's red heels started to make it's way up to the rail, when the beaded netting from her red dress tangled in with the shoes and she slipped, letting out a blood curdling scream as Sam's hands didn't let go of hers. Instead, they clung on, tight, not letting her go. She dropped below the previous place where she was standing and Sam struggled hard to not let go.

"Ahh! Ahh! Uhh!" Quinn's moans scared the crap out of him, and she looked to see him, her eyes, the ones he fell in love with, were now living a horror movie.

"Come on!" He started to pull her up as she tried the nudge her body to the railing as well. Her hand grabbed the railing, but unfortunately slipped once more.

"Ahh! HELP! PLEASE HELP!"

Quinn's screaming was heard by officers who were on watch at night and they hurriedly went off to find the source of the screech.

"Please! Please help me!"

"Listen! Listen! I've got you. I won't let go. Now, pull yourself up! Come on!"

Both of them grunted as they used all the energy and might they had left in their bodies. Sam pulled and pulled, determined to lift Quinn up as Quinn tried to push the other thoughts away and focus on the one where she could die any second.

"You can do it."

Sam continued pulling Quinn up as the officers' footsteps scampered on the boards, still trying to find the source of the screams.

Quinn held onto Sam for dear life as he finally pulled her back on the ship and they both fell onto the floor, gasping for air and she held on to his shoulders.

The officers finally made it to the stern where the scene of Quinn almost dying was mistaken and misunderstood.

"What's all this?" one of them questioned.

Sam immediately let go of Quinn, knowing that he would be in some deep shit if he didn't, no matter how much he didn't want to let go. Quinn was still breathing heavily, and the panting and screaming and Sam letting go of Quinn while he was still previously holding on to her all added up to the officers, but they weren't very good at math.

"You stand back and don't move an inch!"

Sam rolled his eyes in his mind, knowing that he would get in trouble for saving Quinn's life. He stood up and put his hands in his pockets.

"Fetch me the master at arms!"

…

Quinn was wrapped in a plaid blue blanket while drinking some hot tea that was offered to her, sitting quietly on the bench.

Sam was handcuffed by one of the officers while Finn was droning on and on about all the 'wrong doings' of this.

"This is completely unacceptable! What made you think that you could put your hands on my fiancée?"

Sam's eyes glanced over to where Quinn was.

"Look at me!" Finn growled.

"Finn!"

"What kind of a person do you think that you are? Do you-"

"Finn! It was an accident!" Quinn went over to Finn and stopped him from almost making Sam sink into the ground because of all his yelling.

"An... an accident?" Finn raised his eyebrows.

Sam looked at Quinn again with one of his famous looks: the confused deer.

"It was. Stupid, really. I was leaning over and I slipped. I was leaning far over to see the, uhh, uhh, uhh..." Quinn closed her eyes, thinking hard about the word that was at the tip of her tongue. She started to spin her fingers 'round and 'round, and admittedly, she looked somewhat stupid.

"Propellers?" Finn asked.

"Propellers. And uhh," she continued, and Finn rolled his eyes, "And I slipped. And I would've gone overboard but Mr. Evans here saved me and almost went over himself."

"The propellers? The propellers. She wanted to see the propellers."

"Women and machinery do not mix. Was that the way of it?"

Sam looked over to Quinn, whose eyes were begging him not to tell.

"Yeah, yeah, that was pretty much it."

"Hmm, so now the boy's a hero. Well done, good lad. Now gentlemen, let's return to our brandy, ehh?"

The officer uncuffed Sam and Finn rubbed Quinn's arms, making sure she was extra warm and comfy.

"You must be freezing," Finn said to Quinn. "Let's get you inside."

As Quinn and Finn were walking back, a voice stopped them.

"Perhaps a little something for the boy?"

"Of course," Finn said, "Mr. Hatewoe, a twenty should do it."

"Haha, is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?" Quinn asked.

"Quinn is displeased. What to do? I know."

Finn made his way to Sam, who was putting his articles of clothing back on his body.

"Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow evening to regale our group with your heroic tale," Finn offered.

"Sure. Count me in," Sam agreed.

"Good. Settled, then." As Finn walked away with another man, he whispered, "This should be interesting."

Quinn and Finn made their way back to their rooms, and Hatewoe was about to join them, until Sam whistled out to him.

"Hey... can I, uhh... bum a smoke?"

Hatewoe walked over to Sam and put his hand out for him to take one.

"You'll want to tie those," Hatewoe said, indicating to his shoes. "It's interesting how the young lady slips so suddenly and you still have time to remove your jacket and your shoes."

Hatewoe walked away with an invisible smirk on his evil face and Sam's cigarette balanced between his two rows of teeth before thinking through everything that had just happened all over again.

^.^

OK, so that's it. Hopefully you liked it very much! I think it's a pretty long chapter. Sam and Quinn have finally met! Yay! A lot of the people who have reviewed say that they know the ending to what this is going to be already, and have asked for a 'twist'. And of course, I was never going to let this story go as the exact same thing that happened in the movie, and so I do have a little something something in the end. ;) Although it's not the opposite of what happens in the movie. :( It's only because, ya know, it would be historically inaccurate for a third class male like Sam to be able to go in a lifeboat or scientifically inaccurate for Sam to survive in hypothermia in freezing water. But a miracle does happen! So yeah! Please review! It makes me very happy and I appreciate it so much! Thanks again! I love all the support you guys give me! It means so much! I love you guys! Please review! Thanks! ;D