When he wasn't drunk and angry and out of control, he was an absolutely brilliant kisser. Alba found herself clutching tightly to the lapels of his suit, weak in the knees and needing something to hold onto. His arms encircled her, pulling her tighter against him, and he let his hands rest so they were cupping her bum. He gave her a light squeeze through the thin material of the dress, and she pressed herself tighter against him in response, feeling his growing arousal between them.

"Do you really think I'm beautiful and enchanting she asked?" as his head dipped to kiss her throat.

"Of course I do," he whispered against the still-bruised skin there, and she bit her lip. It hurt, but it was a delicious sort of pain, and he was being so incredibly gentle. He scratched lightly at her stomach through the dress, and kissed her again on the lips. "And I'd quite like to do more than just kiss you right now," he said, his tone changing to one laced with desire.

She wanted him to do quite a bit more than kiss her as well, but her body protested the thought. As irresistible as his kisses were, she still ached like she'd been in the ring with a championship fighter.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," she said into his mouth, gently pulling back and forcing him to release her lower lip, which he'd been nibbling on. "I don't think I've quite recovered from our last...encounter," she said finally, and did she hear the regret in her own voice there?

"Ah, I suppose you're right," he said thickly, bending his head down and doing that nervous thing where he pulled at his hair again. She reached out to stop him with her hands, forcing him to look up at her. The puppy dog look on his face was so sad that she almost reconsidered, but then she thought better of it. Whatever this was between them, it was strange, and fragile ,and new. She didn't think it would be good to rush it.

"It's not that I don't want to ever...I just don't think I can right now," she replied softly. "Another time."

"Right, yes of course, another time. Rani was right, it is getting awfully late, and I have a work meeting early tomorrow. Breakfast with me at five?" he asked hopefully.

"Can I go back to sleep after?" she asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Sure, I don't care," he said, melting her insides again with his smile. And then, more subdued, he pressed another soft kiss to her lips. "Goodnight, Rose."

He made to pull back, but she grabbed him and held him there, deepening their kiss. She smiled in satisfaction at the low, rumbling moan that issued itself from the back of his throat, and then she pulled back.

"Goodnight, John," she said over her shoulder, leaving him standing in front of the fireplace with a dazed look on his face. She walked down the hall to her room, shut the door behind her, and set the alarm on the antique clock for 4:30 in the morning, which seemed such a short amount of time from now, but she wasn't really thinking about the time. She was thinking of the way his lips had felt and tasted against her own, how rock-hard he'd felt pressed against her belly, even through their clothing. She felt a rush of heat just thinking about.

Sleep would be hard coming tonight. She tugged the dress over her head, unclasped her bra, and let the garments come to fall on the floor. She went to get another night gown from the armoire, but that was the point at which she was interrupted by the knock on her door. Knowing it wouldn't be any one other than him, she answered it as she was.

"Yes?" she barely had a chance to ask before he was pushing into the door and shoving her down onto the bed, although he did so with a great amount of care.

"I can be gentle," he said into her mouth. The sensation of being pinned underneath him wasn't entirely unpleasant, though parts of her bruised body were humming in angry protest. She found at the moment, the resulting headrush she got when he placed his lips against her nipple and sucked made it easier to forget the parts of herself that were still aching and sore. She arched her back, thrusting her chest up at him. He was moving down her body now, his mouth and fingers stopping to pay reverence to every inch of her exposed skin. She thought to herself how this experience so far was proving to be a polar opposite of the other evening. When he reached the damp thatch of curls between her thighs, he parted her legs gently and kneeled there between them. He lightly stroked the skin of her thighs, softly massaging the spots where he had left bruises before. His lips brushed against her skin, and she shivered in anticipation of what was about to come.

He started out tentatively at first, but then became more bold when she began to hum her appreciation low in her throat, licking, kissing and sucking her pearl more aggressively. Even as he did this though, his hands were resting on her hips, tracing lazy circles there with his fingers. She tangled her fingers in his hair, and mimicked the gesture of him pulling his own fingers through it. This time when she came, she tugged on his hair and she didn't bite back her cries of ecstasy. He emerged from between her legs, a wet grin on his face. He sat up on his knees and began to take his own clothing off, methodical but quick. He laid his clothes over the footboard and moved to stretch out beside her on the bed.

Without speaking, she rolled toward him and took his hardened length in her hand, giving it a few experimental pumps. She was rewarded with a hiss and intake of breath from him for her efforts and she smiled, sitting up and moving so that she was now the one kneeling between his legs. She kissed him once on the top of his head, and then rolled her tongue down the length of him, swirling her tongue around his testicles and pausing to take the left one of them into her mouth. She rolled her tongue around it, enjoying the sounds he was making as she did. Not wanting the other to feel neglected, she did the same to the right one before licking back up his shaft again and then taking him into her mouth. He gasped, and twitched his hips, thrusting himself deeper, tickling the back of her throat. She continued licking and sucking, working her way up and down his cock with an ease of practice that brought him shuddering to climax in a few short moments. He let his hand drop on the pillow behind his head, and when he did the kitchen knife wrapped up in her night gown went tumbling out from behind the headboard and onto the floor with a loud metallic clang. She looked up from between his legs, just in time to see the flash of betrayal in his eyes.

"What the hell is this?" he asked softly, bending over to retrieve the knife. There was a hint of that terrifying hardness in his voice again, and she felt her stomach clench in fear.

"It's a knife," she said, her mouth going dry. No sense in trying to lie about the obvious.

"I can see that," he said coldly, running his finger along the edge of the blade. "But why do you have it?"

Alba could only stammer, searching for the answer that wouldn't ruin everything, but by the anger flashing in his eyes, she could already tell that it was too late.

"Nevermind, I think I get the picture," he said gruffly, getting off the bed and gathering up his clothes. He bundled the knife together with his suit, shot a dark look over his shoulder at her, and shut the door behind him. She heard the lock click into place from the other side, and she felt the tears of frustration working their way to spill over her cheeks.

"Doctor, it's not like that!" she called after the sound of his retreating footsteps. "The knife was supposed to be for me…"

If he heard her, he didn't give any indication. She heard footsteps going up a flight of stairs, and then heard a door slam. She rolled over and clutched at her pillow miserably, cursing herself for moving the knife out from under the mattress in the first place. Her thinking had been that it would be easier to get to in the event she had needed it, for self-defense or other darker purposes, but it had only backfired on her. She didn't even have the mobile phone Jack had left her, was locked alone in a room with nothing but herself and her thoughts.

That night, she cried herself to sleep.

She wasn't exactly sure of how much time passed-she slept a lot, in the absence of much else to do. She estimated it had been about three days she had been locked in so far. When she woke up from being asleep, she would find trays of food and drink placed out for her, but she never saw him, never heard him. She didn't know how she could be so lonely for a man whom she barely knew and whose treatment of her bordered on abusive at best, but none the less, she found herself wishing she could see him and that grin that made her melt.

Instead, she thought of her mother and home, and cried an awful lot. It was around the middle of what she estimated was the fourth day when she remembered the pot she'd stashed in the toilet, and the book hidden under the mattress. She retrieved the Tupperware from the toilet tank, grateful she had thought to put a book of matches and a piece of aluminum foil in with it. She shut and locked the door to the ensuite, and sat down on the floor, using the flat surface of the book to construct and load her makeshift pipe with. She tried not to think of the Alzheimer's she was giving herself as she inhaled the fragrant smoke, but once again it didn't take long until she was pleasantly fuzzy around the edges and only feeling the dullest traces of pain from her mostly healed bites and bruises. She flipped the book back open to the section on Taurus women, and continued reading. With interest, she noticed that someone had placed an asterisk next to the compatibility description for a Taurus woman and a Scorpio man.

Being opposite signs of the zodiac, the connection between a Taurus woman and a Scorpio man can be nothing short of intense. Both are enormously passionate signs, both with larger than life cravings to satisfy. While Taurus craves material things, Scorpio craves power, and together the two of them can rule the world or bring it to its knees, each striking the balance for the other. So long as Taurus will allow Scorpio to take the reins most of the time, this can be a match that will burn hot and bright and forever.

Both Taurus and Scorpio hold a stable relationship in high-esteem, but it takes effort to get to that place. While Taurus is unflinchingly honest and craves the same honesty in return, it is in Scorpio's nature to play his cards close to the vest, preferring to retain a certain level of mystery to his person. For a Scorpio, a steady relationship provides a reassurance to them that they have a deep connection with someone else, and they will often be incredibly possessive and territorial when it comes to their partner. If Taurus can show Scorpio that she only has eyes for him, it can go a long way toward securing the future of the relationship.

While Taurus is ruled by Venus, Scorpio is ruled by Mars and Pluto, a combination that makes for an intense coupling due to the balance of masculine and feminine energies. Scorpio will tend to overtake Taurus in many aspects, but Taurus might find herself willing to acquiesce if he plays his cards right. While Taurus is about devotion to a partner, Scorpio's raw, smouldering sexuality is often enough to stoke the flames for both partners, and he will delight in pleasing Taurus and reveling in her devotions.

But Taurus should beware of Scorpio's stinger, and woe to the lover that crosses him! Due to both signs propensity for jealousy, lover's spats are a likely occurrence if eyes should wander. On the same token, nothing is sexier to Taurus than when Scorpio stakes a claim and expresses his jealousy-for Taurus, this is merely a sign of approval!

Communication is key for this pairing, as Taurus is very much an open book, while Scorpio is more the inscrutable, brooding type, and both are prone to stubbornness. Taurus will usually win arguments, but Scorpio will often chose to achieve their ends through more devious means, using emotional manipulation and sex as a tool to get what they desire. So long as they can learn to open their minds and trust each other, this can be one of the strongest, most intense, and rewarding bonds for a Taurus woman.

Alba took another hit on the tinnie and mulled Melody Pond's words over. She flipped back to the contents again, noticing a scrawling on the opposite page that she had missed the first time around: "Property of Romana Dvoratrelundar".

Talk about a mouthful of a name!" she thought to herself. She didn't have time to wonder who Romana might even be though, because at that moment a knock came not on the bedroom door, but on the door of the ensuite.

"Rose? It's Jack. Are you alright in there?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine...just got caught up in my thoughts," she called to him, lifting the toilet tank to stash her tinnie and the rest of the bud. She replaced the lid as carefully and quietly as she could, quickly dropped her eyes with some Visine ,and sprayed the can of air freshener that was sitting underneath the bathroom sink.

Great. Now it just smelled like she was smoking weed AND taking an Alpine stroll. Hearing Jack shuffling impatiently on the other side of the door, she realized she couldn't hold him off any longer. She whipped open the door, almost sending him tumbling into the room, as he'd been leaning against the frame.

"Sorry," she said, slipping past him and shutting the door behind her. He was regarding her with an amused look.

"Were you…?" he mimed smoking a spliff.

"No," she said. "I didn't have any rolling papers, so I used a bit of foil instead."

"That shit will give you Alzheimer's," he replied, taking a seat next to her on the bed.

"Great. At least then, I won't be able to remember how much I hate my life," she said dismally.

"Well, all that aside, I'm not here without purpose. The Doctor asked me to pick you up and bring you to the seamstress."

"For…?" she asked, waving her hand to indicate that he should elaborate further.

"For your wedding gown fitting, dear. You're getting married in less than a month."