"Mother, I honestly don't know why we have to go to America when Daddy's business flourishes right here in London," whined Willow Rosenberg.
Shelia sighed heavily. Her daughter knew the answer, but the redhead persisted in making Shelia's life an annoying one.
"Willow, I told you before and the story hasn't changed. America is bustling with activity. The smart move is to relocate in America and start up a factory there as well," Shelia explained, yet again. The car they were in halted and a short man opened Willow's door. She graciously took his hand and stepped out of the vehicle. Shelia did the same, but the man escorting her to the ship was Willow's father, Ira.
"Thank you Daniel," thanked Willow. She pulled away from his grasp when she was joined by her parents. "Father, what is so great about this ship anyway? It looks just like the Hawke, except for the size," she commented, trying to act unimpressed. The older man turned to his daughter in shock.
"My dear, God made winds and storms to test ships, but Harland and Wolff created the Titanic to rise above those tests. You can joke and gesture about frivolous things, but you cannot sink Titanic!" he responded, smiling at his sometimes arrogant daughter. "It is such a good thing you are to marry Daniel when we reach New York. Maybe he can rid your mind of such imposturous notions," Ira joshed with his daughter, but the red head was less than amused.
"Ira darling, it's almost sail off time. Shall we go check in?" inquired Shelia to her husband. He nodded and motioned for the servants carrying their luggage to follow them aboard.
"Suit nine and ten sir, the crewmen aboard will help you find your quarters," the ticket collector told Ira. He smiled and held his hand out to his daughter. She accepted it and followed him through the hallways of the unsinkable ship.
"Sweetheart, we're on the most magnificent ship in the world. We're heading to the most economically booming country, with new opportunities. And you have a good man with you. Enjoy the experience of a lifetime while you can," he told her as they reached their rooms for the duration of the trip.
Ira clapped his hands together and sighed happily.
"Here we are, Willow, dear you and Daniel will reside in suit nine while your mother and I will sleep in suit ten. I hear they are celebrating the voyage this evening at dinner, so wear your best clothing. Oh and Daniel, I have some rather important friends meeting me tonight in the smokers lounge, I would very much appreciate it if you joined us," he asked the smiling man.
"But of course sir, I wouldn't turn down your hospitality for the world," he said smiling as Willow turned to unpack her things. Her parents left and an eerie silence fell between the two. Willow's maid, Christine, entered the room and turned on her heel to leave, sputtering apologies, but Willow stopped her.
"Christine, it's quite fine, if you would please unpack my belongings and put them up. Oh and see if you can't find the emerald gown I bought the other week. Lay it out when you find it; I shall wear that to dinner tonight.
"Yes ma'am, "squeaked the young woman. Christine was only seventeen and one of the only servants accompanying the Rosenberg's on the voyage. Willow fought to keep her. Christine knew her so well and on some level, could be considered a friend. The brunette woman commenced her duties while Willow looked out the window. Something caught her eye as she gazed upon the growing crowd. Two women, one brunette and the other blonde, were darting through the crowd and climbing aboard the plank. Willow scoffed at them. But part of her wished she could be in third class. At least then she could escape the impending commitment of never getting to live her life the way she wanted to.
Earlier that day...
"Hey big boy, where ya headed?" a brunette drawled out. A rough man eyed her carefully. Seeing exactly what she was offering, he smirked at her. He looked around the ally they were in. It was secluded enough.
"Heading down to the dock. Me and my friend here are going to America. Gonna live better then this," he said as he held up his tickets.
"Aww, your friend and you huh? Why don't you take me instead? I can make your trip worth while, even when the waves get rough," she said as she inched closer to him. He chuckled at her.
"Nah, I'll just pay you," he said as he dropped his belongings to the side. He unzipped his pants and the brunette smiled at him. Her hand traveled down to his growing erection.
"Yeah, why don't you do that," she said as she squeezed tight. The man winced at the excruciating pain. The brunette kneed him in the stomach and then smashed his head up against the wall. The man fell, knocked unconscious.
"Tara, grab his shit, we got two minutes before this bitch heads off," commanded Faith. Tara moved from around the corner with her bag and Faith's. She tossed Faith her bag as Faith pick pocketed the fallen man.
The two darted off from the ally, thankful that it was only a block to the dock. They weaved in and out of the people. Faith looked around frantically and then pointed to the plank.
"There! There's the third class boarding plank," she screamed excitedly as they ran up it.
"Tickets please, ladies," the Englishman said. Faith handed the tickets over and the collector examined them. Satisfied with the authenticity, he told them to go down the hall.
"Room 305 T," Faith called back to her as they walked down the cramped halls. They finally reached the room. They found two girls already bunked up on one side. The blonde on the top bunk hopped down and stuck out her hand.
"Hi, I'm Buffy and this is my sister Dawn," she said, almost perky.
"Faith and this is Tara," the brunette introduced, smiling at the blonde.
"Nice to meet you guys. We were scared it was gonna be some creepy men," Dawn spoke up. Faith and Tara shared a knowing look and set aside their luggage. Faith called top bunk, but it really didn't matter to Tara. She was going to America.
"They're throwing a party down in the mess hall at dinner for the sailing off, so um, be ready by seven," Buffy disclosed. Faith and Tara nodded, knowing that the clothes they were wearing was as good as it gets.
Faith and Tara left their cabin to go explore the deck and wave to shore as they set sail. They reached the top deck and Tara turned to Faith.
"How did you know he had two tickets?" she asked.
Faith simply smiled at her. "The friend he was meeting spilled last night in the pub. I tied him to the bed post this morning. Didn't know what hit 'em," she said, smiling. Tara laughed at her long time companion. The two moved to the front of the ship.
Tara looked out into the sunset as the ship began to move. She saw the little tugboat, which she later learned was called Vulcan. Faith told her from the moment the Titanic hit the newspapers that they would be aboard and heading to America. Truthfully, Tara doubted her up until the ticket collector allowed them through the porthole. Now, here she was, standing on the deck of the R.M.S Titanic waving to the jealous crowd.
"Mother, I think I might go see the top deck, wave goodbye to London," Willow informed her mother as she made her way to her cabin door.
"Darling, we don't 'see' people off nor do we explore our surroundings. You just stay put and I'll have Christine fix your hair for tonight," her mother commanded, in a somewhat agitated tone.
"Mother, it's only four o'clock and dinner isn't 'til seven," Willow argued. Her mother glared at her.
"Willow, it will take three hours to get ready and you know that. Besides the fact that it is improper to argue with your mother, our first appearance must make an impact. I swear, sometimes I wonder how Daniel can live with you. You just give your father and me a headache," she said rubbing her temples. She turned to face Willow, "Darling, your father worked from the ground up to become the man he is today. It would break his heart to think that you didn't appreciate the lifestyle he sweats so hard for," she said, taking a small breath before beginning again.
"Now, I've called for Christine, who has set aside your dress for the evening. You are wearing the ruby gown, not that hideous green one, tonight. There will be some of the most admired gentlemen at dinner tonight, and they have taking the invitation your father gave them to join us for dinner. The last thing we want is to embarrass him with our appearance." Shelia waved her hand to Christine. The young woman approached Willow and began combing out her long hair.
"Mother, Daddy is the second richest man on the ship. Even if I showed up like a commoner, I'm sure they wouldn't mention it to him," pouted the red head. Sometimes aggravating her mother just amused the hell out of her.
Shelia sighed and pointedly ignored the question and answer all together. Her next wave of the hand was to Margot, Shelia's personal maid for years.
The next three hours were spent fixing up the Rosenberg women, while Shelia berated her daughter some more on proper etiquette. Willow took it like she had taken it for the past twenty-three years of her life. She knew what was expected of her. She knew the answer to every question she asked. But she didn't know why no one asked her opinion on subjects that she knew about. She didn't know why Daniel asked her father if she would marry him, instead of her. But most importantly, she didn't know why no one asked her if she minded being up rooted from her homeland and shipped across the Atlantic when they even asked Daniel if he minded.
"That'll be all Margot, Christine you're excused as well. Marvelous job, both of you," Shelia dismissed. She checked herself one more time in the mirror. Willow regarded her as eloquent, although she would never admit to it. Shelia faced her only child and smiled.
"The Titanic waits!" she beamed. Willow plastered a fake smile on her face as the two women vacated the room.