The Doctor awoke to sunlight streaming through the window, and Alba curled against him, her head resting on his shoulder. He smiled fondly at her, and moved to brush a strand of hair out of her face. She stirred against him and blinked, clearing the sleep from her eyes.

"Hello, husband," she said softly, smiling back at him.

"Good morning wife," he replied, leaning in to kiss her gently on the lips. She melted against him, sighing softly.

"So...now what do we do?" she asked him, draping her arm across his torso.

"I told you I'd take you somewhere amazing. That's still the plan," he said lightly.

"What about Harry?" she questioned in response.

"What about him?" the Doctor said, quirking his eyebrows. "We've got time travel at our disposal. We could lark about for months, and still be back in time for tea. Harry can wait. We just got married, I want to enjoy that for a little bit before I have to start worrying about plotting against my own brother."

"Fair enough," Alba said. "So where are we going?"

"Ah, now that part is a surprise," the Doctor answered. "First, we've got to go home and change. Jack will pick up our stuff from here. We can take the vortex manipulator so we won't have to drive. It's not far anyway, but why go the long way when you've got a shortcut available?"

"Well alright then. Lets not waste time," she said, getting out of the bed. She picked up her knickers from the floor and slipped them back on. Looking at the Doctor, her lips quirked. "I suppose I'm ready, since I'm not getting back into that bodice or dress."

"Yes well, luckily this method of travel is clothing optional," he said, getting up. He pulled the vortex manipulator and sonic screwdriver out of his jacket pocket and went to join Alba.

"Shall we?" he asked, strapping the vortex manipulator to his wrist.

"Indeed we shall," Alba replied, linking her arm with his.

"Hold on tight," he advised, pressing the button. They winked out of the hotel room with a soft iwhoosh/i of air, and rematerialized in the library of the city flat.

"A bit rough, isn't it?" Alba said, stumbling towards the loveseat.

"Yeah, sorry," the Doctor said apologetically, taking a seat next to her. "It does take some getting used to. Thankfully, I have a more...reliable form of transport to get us to our next destination."

"How do you mean?" she asked curiously.

The Doctor smiled. "You'll see soon enough. First, we need to shower and get dressed. Would you care to join me up in the master bath? Strictly in the interest of conserving water, of course."

"Yeah, right," Alba said, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, so maybe my motives aren't ientirely/i pure. Can't blame a bloke for trying," he chuckled. "All the same...I'd love it if you'd join me for a shower."

"Lead the way, Mr. McCrimmon," she said.

Smiling, the Doctor tugged her up from the loveseat and guided her out of the library and down the hall to the closet. They slipped through the coats and he keyed in the door code. The wall in front of them slid open silently, granting them access. Together, they bounded up the stairs, stopping on the landing so the Doctor could sonic the door to his bedroom.

He wasted no time tugging Alba across the room and into the en suite. She shivered lightly as her feet hit the cool tile floor. The Doctor slid open the shower's glass door and leaned in to turn the water on full blast. She slipped her knickers down her hips, letting them fall to the floor.

"After you," he said, tilting his head towards the shower. He gave her bum a light smack as she passed him.

"Oi!" she exclaimed, almost stumbling and laughing.

"What? I can't help it, it was right there in front of me," he replied, ducking into the shower behind her. He slid the door closed and joined her under the tumbling cascade of hot water. "You've got a very nice bum."

"Your's isn't so bad, either, Mister," she said, gliding her hands down his sides to cup his arse, pushing them closer together.

The Doctor sighed happily, letting his hands come to rest on her hips as his lips sought out her own, finding them and pressing tightly and eagerly against them. She tilted her head up, deepening the kiss as her grip on his arse tightened.

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of doing that," he murmured, stroking his thumb along the curve of her jaw.

"And I don't think I'll ever get tired of letting you do that," she replied, reaching up to hold his hand against her cheek.

"The curves of your lips rewrite history," he said with a smile.

"You're such a romantic," she teased back.

"Ah, I can't take credit for that. It's Oscar Wilde," he replied, pushing her hair out of the way so he could press a kiss to her collarbone. "I'm a scientist, not a wordsmith."

"Could've fooled me," she said, letting her tongue poke between her teeth as she looked up at him.

"Right," he said abruptly, breaking their embrace and reaching for the recessed alcove where the soap sat. "Time to get clean. Turn around, I'll wash your back."

Obediently, Alba turned her back on the Doctor. She felt him glide the bar of soap across her shoulders and down her spine, the tips of his fingers brushing gently against her skin as he went, causing her to shiver. He paused briefly when he reached her lower back before moving to skate the soap across her bum and down the backs of her thighs with a less than innocent touch. Reaching around her, he ran the soap first up her left leg, then the right. The soap and his fingers trailed across her belly, sliding up her torso, between her breasts, and across her collarbones before slipping down each of her arms. He set the soap back in its little alcove before allowing his hands to settle on her hips. His breath on the back of her neck was cool in the steamy jungle of the shower, while her own breath was caught in her throat. Lazily, his hands drifted up her body, rubbing in slow, smooth circles as he went, leaving a trail of soapy bubbles in his wake. He caressed her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples until they were hard and aching. He stepped closer to her, his arousal pressing insistently against her bottom as his hands continued to roam her body, mapping her lush curves. She wriggled against him, which caused him to elicit a low, throaty growl. One of his hands dipped below her navel, tugging through her curls even as the other hand continued to fondle each of her breasts in turn. He parted her thighs with his hand and began to stroke lightly between her folds.

"God, you're so wet," he breathed.

"We're in the shower," she panted in return.

"You know what I meant," he said, slipping two fingers inside of her while he continued to thumb her clit. This went on for several minutes until Alba was drawn as taut as a piano string.

"Jamie...need you...inside of me," she gasped, leaning back and grinding against his erection. His fingers stopped what they were doing as he pushed her against the wall, pinning her arms above her head. She spread her legs, and felt him nudging against her before pushing up and into her tight, wet heat. The two of them groaned in unison as he began to thrust, pounding into her with smooth, even strokes. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh, along with their gasps and moans, echoed through the shower.

"I'm going to come," she rasped shakily.

"Please do," he grunted in her ear, his grip on her wrists tightening. A strangled cry escaped him as her muscles fluttered and clenched tightly around him, tumbling him over the edge with her. He emptied himself into her with a breathless sigh before withdrawing, leaving her flattened against the wall, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps.

"So that's why you wanted me to come shower with you," she said wryly, turning from the tiled wall to face him. "Mr. McCrimmon, you are insatiable."

"I rather think it's a two way street, Rose," he returned, quirking his eyebrows at her.

"We came here to get clean and instead we got dirty," she said with a chuckle.

"Well, iyou/i are clean. Mostly," he said, amusement glinting in his eyes.

She elbowed him playfully. "Suppose so. I guess I'll just rinse off and let you finish up yourself. I have a feeling if I stay here, nobody is going to get any cleaner," she said.

"Probably not," he agreed, steering her under the stream of water and picking up the bar of soap.

Alba took her time rinsing off. The hot water felt delicious trickling over muscles that were more sore than she had realized. The Doctor was vigorously soaping himself up, humming under his breath. She leaned forward and captured his roving hands, holding him still so she could lean up on her toes and kiss him.

"See you later," she said, rocking back on her heels.

"You'll need the door code. One-zero-two-three," he recited to her. "Oh! And wear something comfortable."

Alba stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. She patted herself dry before wrapping her hair up. Grabbing another towel to wrap around her body, she made her way out of the en suite, out of the bedroom and down the stairs. She punched in the door code and slipped into the closet and back through the coats. The door to her bedroom stood open, and she stepped inside.

"Something comfortable," she repeated, throwing the doors of her wardrobe open. She thumbed through the clothes, passing up several more elegant and complicated gowns in favor of a simple black v-neck dress. She picked out a lacey black balconette and matching knickers to wear underneath, and simple pair of black flats. Leaving the clothes on the bed, she slipped into her own en suite and began to dry her hair, wondering what the Doctor had in store for them. She misted her body with a sweet, vanilla-scented moisturizer, and dabbed sandalwood perfume on her wrists, in her cleavage, and behind her ears. Satisfied, she returned to the bedroom and quickly dressed. Examining herself in the mirror, she debated putting on makeup. Deciding yes, she padded back into the en suite and rifled through the drawer of cosmetics, selecting a deep red lipstick and dark brown mascara. Several minutes later, she gazed appraisingly at her reflection. Her cheeks were still flushed with warmth from the shower, and her eyes were clear and bright.

"That'll do," she said, turning off the lights. She walked back down the hall to the closet, pushed through the coats, and entered the door code. Upstairs, she found the Doctor adjusting the knot on his tie. He beamed at her from across the room, closing the distance between them to rest his hands on her shoulders.

"You look lovely," he said sincerely, his gaze raking up her body.

"You're not looking so bad yourself. I have to say, I do love you in pinstripes," she said, letting her hands come to rest on his lapels.

"So what say you, Rose, are you ready for a little adventure?" he asked, grinning widely at her.

"Why Jamie, I think I am," she said, linking her arm with his. Together, they came down the stairs, paused so the Doctor could open the door, then slipped back through the coats. Alba was surprised when he lead her up the stairs to his study, the one room he had originally forbade her to enter. She peered at him curiously as he soniced the door open, stepping inside to flick on the lights. The room lit up, revealing a rather average looking office. Except for one thing.

"What's a police public call box, and why do you have one in your study?" she asked, turning to look at him.

"Back in the 1950s and 60s, on Earth, the original Earth, in London they had police public call boxes. They were little wooden boxes where you could call for help from the police. Sometimes, they would use them to temporarily hold suspects. But this isn't a police public call box," he said, sliding a key into the lock.

"So what is it then?" Alba asked, confused.

"Take a look," he said with a smirk, pushing the door open and coaxing her inside.

Alba gazed around in surprised wonder, not quite believing what she was seeing. Inside the police box was an impossibly large room, dominated by what looked like a console of some sort. A large central column rose up from the middle of the console, stretching all the way to the ceiling Huge, organic looking pillars seemed to support the ceiling of the room, which was curved. Down a set of stairs she spied a doorway, though she couldn't imagine where it lead. How could this place be any bigger? It was already impossible.

The Doctor shut the doors and stepped up behind. "It's called the TARDIS. Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. This is my ultimate project. No one's ever seen it but you," he whispered into her ear.

"What is it?" she asked in awe.

"It's a time machine," he said, passing her to stand at the console. "It works on a similar principle to the vortex manipulator, just on a much larger scale. The TARDIS is...well, it's infinite, basically. Picture the biggest ship you can, and then forget it, because the TARDIS is bigger than that."

"But...how?" she stammered.

His eyes crinkled. "Trust me, you don't really want to know. It's extremely complicated."

"And you built it?" she said incredulously.

"Something like that," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "That okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, joining him at the console, still not quite believing what she was seeing and hearing. "You never stop surprising me, Doctor. You're impossible."

"Not impossible, just a bit unlikely," he replied, a cat-like grin on his face. "So, you ready to take a ride?"

Alba smiled back at him. "Show me the stars, lover."