"So," Jack said, tossing a glance over his shoulder. "Are you getting nervous yet?"
Alba looked out the window of the hover car at the landscape unfurling below them. They were leaving her sixth and final dance lesson and heading to her final dress fitting. She could scarcely believe it, but the wedding was already just three days away. At the sound of Jack's voice, her head snapped up.
"I've been nervous this whole time," she replied simply. "How could I not be?"
"Good point," Jack said in response. "But you'll do beautifully, I'm sure."
"I hope you're right," Alba said, twisting a strand of her hair around her fingers. "The vows will be the hardest part of all this, probably. Memorizing a language I've never spoken before, having it all sound natural. There's just so much expected of me."
"Yeah, but the Doctor's been helping with that. He said you seemed to have the knack for it," Jack said.
"If you say so," Alba replied. "He also said he wasn't much of a teacher, either. Hence why you've been the one taking me to all my dance lessons."
"I guess you just bring out the best in him," Jack said.
"Maybe," Alba mused quietly.
The rest of the ride passed by in relative comfortable silence. Alba watched the landscape change as they flew out of the city and into the country. Jack turned on the radio at one point, and the car was flooded with unfamiliar music. Alba resisted the impulse to nervously nibble at her fingernails. Today was the day she actually got to see the dress she'd be wearing. It struck her how different this ride was from the last time they'd been to see the seamstress. She had earned the Doctor's trust since then, and her reward was that she was allowed to ride unfettered by blindfolds and handcuffs, much to her relief. Finally, the hover car descended next to a small stone dwelling surrounded by silver-leafed trees.
"We're here, kiddo," Jack said unnecessarily as they unbuckled and got out of the car. Alba let him take her by the hand and lead her up to the house's little porch. He knocked on the door three times in rapid succession. A red-haired woman answered the door, a small dog at her feet. She greeted Jack warmly, and ushered them into the house.
Alba looked around the room,, something she hadn't been able to do the last time they'd been there. The area they were in was bright and sunny, full of mirrors and neatly folded piles of fabric. To the side of the room, near a bank of windows, stood a dressmaker's dummy. In the middle of the room was a small platform. The dog sat by her feet, wagging its tail. She bent down to stroke it softly behind the ears. It was the first animal she'd seen since her arrival on Gallifrey. The dog turned its head and licked her hand playfully. Alba couldn't help but smile.
"Don't mind him, he's just scouting for treats," the seamstress said, waving a hand.
"Oh, it's alright. I love dogs," Alba replied, standing back up. "It's Jessuro, isn't it?"
"That's me," the seamstress said, picking up a folded pile of lacey underthings. "If you could get undressed, dear, that'd be great."
"Oh right, of course," Alba said, glancing at Jack. He averted his eyes as she began to take off her clothes. When she had finished, the seamstress guided her onto the platform and began helping her into the complicated undergarments. Satisfied, she bustled off, presumably to gather up the wedding dress. She returned with the garment draped over her arms, and began helping Alba into it. Alba watched all this going on in the mirrors with interest.
"There we are," Jessuro said, tightening the laces of the bodice.
"It's beautiful," Alba breathed, taking it all in. The gown was creamy white satin, mermaid style, with a sweetheart neckline. The bodice was decked out in hundreds of sparkling crystals in a swirling pattern reminiscent of stars in the sky. Behind her, Jessuro was pinning an impossibly long veil to the back of her head, completing the image. All she was missing were the shoes, which the seamstress carefully helped her into. Alba exhaled. She certainly looked the part of a bride. She couldn't help but wish her mother was there to see her. She had always imagined trying on wedding dresses, but never like this.
"Well, what do you think?" Jessuro asked Jack, who was still looking politely away.
He turned his head and gasped at the sight of her. "Wow. Rose, you look smashing!"
Alba blushed bright red. "Stop it," she chided.
"No, really, you look fantastic. You were meant to wear that dress, for sure," Jack said in wonder. "I'd be surprised if you didn't take the Doctor's breath away when he finally sees it."
"He doesn't know what it looks like?" Alba asked, fingering the edge of the delicate veil.
"No. He commissioned me to make it, but he left the design up to my discretion. So he has no idea what it looks like," Jessuro said. "But Jack is right. It fits you like a glove. You're a vision in white, if I do say so myself. Now try walking in it. I want to make sure you're not tripping over the hem or anything."
Alba stepped carefully off the platform and began walking around the room, the veil trailing behind her. She was pleased to find that she was able to move easily in the form-fitting gown. Jack and Jessuro watched her progress with interest.
"Perfect," Jessuro remarked.
"Yes, it is," Jack agreed as Alba came to stop in front of him. "All eyes will be on you, definitely."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Alba said with a frown. She didn't like being the center of attention, but in a dress like this it was almost inevitable.
"You'll be fine, doll," Jack reassured her.
"If you say so," she said. That was becoming her go-to phrase of the day.
"I know so," Jack replied, nodding his head.
"Well, if everything fits comfortably, we can go ahead and get you out of the dress, for now," Jessuro said, guiding Alba back to the platform. She began unlacing the bodice. Once again, Jack averted his eyes as Alba got changed back into her everyday clothes.
"Thank you, Jessuro. The Doctor will be so pleased," Jack said as they made to leave the house.
"I do my best," the seamstress said with a nod, closing the door behind them.
Jack and Alba trudged back to the hover car and got in. They made pleasant small talk on the way back to the Doctor's mountain home. Alba felt her nerves abating some as they set foot in the house. The Doctor was reading a book in the living room, waiting for them.
"Well, how'd it go?" he asked, taking off his glasses and folding them into his shirt pocket.
"Fine. The dress fits perfect, so no worries there," Alba said. "And Nurmeen said my dancing has gotten much better. So I guess we're all ready."
"Good, glad to hear it," the Doctor said, unfolding his long body from the couch. He came to stand by Alba, and slid his arm around her shoulder.
"Well, I guess I'll leave you two lovebirds to it," Jack said, turning to leave. "See you at the wedding!"
The Doctor waited until Jack had left to pull Alba into a tight embrace. "I missed you," he said, pulling his fingers through her hair.
"I was only gone a few hours," Alba said into his shoulder.
"A few hours too long," the Doctor replied, pulling back to kiss her. "Gods, you're beautiful."
"You're not so bad yourself," Alba said with a smile, twining her fingers through the Doctor's as he kissed his way down her neck.
"I can't wait to marry you," he murmured softly, holding her tight against his body.
"It'll be here soon enough," Alba said neutrally.
"Yes, I know. These past couple of weeks with you have flown by. You're just...so easy to be with. I feel like I can be myself around you," the Doctor stated.
"Oh," Alba mumbled, biting her tongue. How could he claim to be able to be himself around her when he still hardly told her anything? They talked, but it was rarely anything pertinent to the Doctor and his history.
"What?" he asked, studying her face. "Something is bothering you."
"It's nothing," she insisted.
"I hardly think so. Rose, you can talk to me. I don't want you being afraid of how I'll react," the Doctor commented.
"Well, I'd be lying if I didn't say that was something I do worry about," Alba admitted. "But if you're sure...I just wish you talked to me more. You say you can be yourself around me, but you hardly tell me anything. You know so much about me, and I know almost nothing about you in comparison. I made my promises to you, and I think you know they were sincere. So I don't know why you feel like you can marry me and have a baby with me, but you can't trust me enough to talk to me about your life."
The Doctor gazed upon her soberly. "What do you want to know?"
Alba was taken aback. She hadn't expected that reaction at all. "Seriously?" she questioned.
"Yes, seriously. You're right, of course. And I do trust you, honestly. So ask your questions...and I'll do my best to answer them," the Doctor said, spreading his hands.
"Well, do we have to do it standing here?" Alba asked lamely.
"No, of course not. Why don't you put on the kettle and we can have a seat on the couch," he said graciously.
Following his instruction, Alba ducked down the hallway into the kitchen, where she pulled the kettle out of the cabinet. She went to the sink and filled it with water before placing it on the stove to boil. While she waited for the telltale whistle, she fished through the pantry for the tea bags, finally selecting a breakfast blend that smelled promising. She got out two mugs and sugar from the cabinets, and pulled the cream out of the fridge. Tapping her fingers on the counter, she waited for the kettle to whistle and arranged the tea bags in their respective mugs. When the kettle finally shrieked its readiness, she carefully poured the water over the tea bags to let them steep. That done, she fixed the Doctor's tea first, then her own before retreating back to the living room.
The Doctor was perched on the couch, waiting. She carefully placed the two steaming mugs on the coffee table before angling herself onto the couch next to him. He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. She relaxed against him, and turned her head to look at him. He made a gesture, indicating she should talk.
"You know, I didn't actually expect you to open up to me. Now I'm almost not sure where to begin," she confessed.
"I'm sure you'll think of something," he said with a smile.
"Alright," she said, chewing on her bottom lip. "I assume John Smith is just a psuedonym...so what's your real name?"
"John is my middle name. But yes, John Smith is an assumed name. My real name is James McCrimmon. Most people call me Jamie," he said, taking a sip of his tea.
"Jamie," she repeated. "So what should I call you?"
"Whatever you like, I suppose. John, Jamie, Doctor, any of those are suitable," he responded.
"Okay, well I know that you're a chemist. But I don't know what you actually do for a living or where you work," she stated.
"I'm a chemist at my father's company. It's a scientific research firm with several different departments. I work mainly in the medical sector, developing new drugs and equipment," he replied. "Is that specific enough, or were you still curious?"
"No, that's fine," she indicated, nodding her head. She took a sip of her tea and tapped her fingers against the side of the mug, thinking of her next question. She knew what she wanted to ask, but she also knew that it was a sensitive subject for the Doctor.
"Is that it?" he asked it.
"No, I just...I'm thinking of how I want to word it. I don't want to upset you," she said.
"I'm a big boy, I'm sure I can handle it," the Doctor said lightly.
"Your wife and daughter...what happened to them?" she asked, the words coming out in a rush.
"Ah," the Doctor said. "I might've known." He sighed heavily, and scrubbed at his face with his hands.
Alba looked at him anxiously. "See, I knew it would upset you."
"Well, they say time heals all wounds. I'm not so sure about that, though. Some things...they just stick with you. What happened to my wife and daughter is one of those things," the Doctor said darkly, his hands tightening around his mug. "It should've been me, but instead it was them."
"Doctor, what happened?" Alba asked softly.
"There was an accident," the Doctor replied, a far-off look on his face. "Romana and I had an argument, and she took Susanna to leave, in my hover car. But someone had tampered with it, not knowing that Romana would be the one to drive it next. The car failed, and crashed. Romana and Susanna were killed instantly."
Alba gasped, and covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, that's terrible! But why would anyone want to try and kill you?"
"Because at the time I was working for the Gallifreyan Intelligence Agency developing new drugs to use in chemical warfare. They never did discover who was the one behind the plot to kill me, but they thought it might be someone who didn't want my work to progress. And after the smear article in the Gallifrey Ledger, a lot of people thought that I'd engineered the accident myself to get rid of Romana. Things had gotten bad between us, but I could never hurt her, never hurt Susanna. All these years, it's haunted me that I couldn't bring their killer to justice and clear my own name. So many people have forgotten about it now, but there are still people out there that think I'm a monster. And maybe they're right. I did drag you into all this…," he said bitterly.
"You're not a monster," Alba said softly, laying her hand on his arm in reassurance.
"Aren't I, though? You don't even know the half of it," he said, hanging his head between his knees. "I was a terrible husband and a mediocre father. Don't get me wrong...I loved my wife and daughter, in my own way. But at the same time, I resented them for trapping me. I was so young, all I could see was that they were pinning me down. Romana was always on me that I didn't spend enough time with her and the baby, and the more she nagged, the more I stayed away. I used work as an excuse to avoid home, avoid facing them. I didn't realize what I had until it was already gone. She was my best friend, and I treated her like she was nothing. And then she died, never knowing how I really felt."
Alba was silent. She didn't know what words to use to comfort the Doctor, though she desperately wanted to. She settled for putting her arms around him.
"You don't know how badly I wish I could go back and change things. Spend more time with them, be a better husband and father. Hindsight is 20/20, I guess," he said with a choked sob, sinking against her.
Alba held him against her and ran her fingers through his hair soothingly.
"You're quiet. I bet you're thinking you wish you could get out of here and away from the madman," the Doctor said with a watery laugh.
"No. I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. We've all made mistakes in the past, we've all done things we regret. But we have to move forward from them. I don't think you're a monster, Doctor. But it doesn't really matter what I think. At some point, you have to learn to forgive yourself," Alba said gently. "You've got a second chance here, with me. Now you have to decide if you're going to make the best of it and do things differently, or stay paralyzed by the past. So what's it going to be?"
"I'll do better by you. I promise. I won't waste my second chance," he said, his breath hitching in his throat.
"That's all I needed to hear," Alba said, hugging him tightly. "You and me, we're in this together now, remember?"
The Doctor sniffled and wiped at his eyes. "Yeah."
"Good," Alba said, satisfied by his answer. She tilted his head up, and placed a kiss on his forehead.
The Doctor managed a tiny smile. "You just might be my salvation, you know."
"I'm just a girl, Doctor. Your salvation lies in your forgiving yourself. But I'm certainly here to help with that," Alba murmured softly.
Desperately, his lips sought her own, like a drowning man in search of air. She kissed him back, equally as intense. His hands tangled in her hair, he pushed her down against the couch and buried his face in the side of her neck.
"Rose Tyler...Alba Prentice. I do believe I'm falling for you," he whispered in her ear.
"Well that's good, seeing as we're about to get married," she breathed.
"And I can't wait," the Doctor reiterated, letting his hands skate over her body.
"Make love to me?" she implored.
"With pleasure," the Doctor growled.