"...my wedding dress fitting? So...we're actually getting married? Like, legally?" Alba asked, her mouth going dry.

Jack just chuckled. "Um, well yeah. It kind of has to be legally binding for the Doctor to retain control of the bus...his finances."

"So wait...how is that going to work? If he doesn't want anyone to know my real name, how are we going to have a proper wedding?"

"A man that wealthy has connections. He has established an identity for you here, has papers in your new name. That's how. So it will be legally binding, but only in a sense. Rose Tyler will be married. Alba Prentice...no one knows who that is here," Jack said, offering her a smile.

"You keep saying 'here'. Where exactly are we, Jack?" she asked, crossing her arms and sticking her lip out at him like a defiant child.

"Nowhere important."

"Jack...I've been in a room for...I don't even know how long. It feels like an eternity, but it might be no time at all. I can't tell. I just...I keep wishing I would see him, or he would at least say something to me, but there's been nothing. I just...I'm starting to feel desperate, Jack," she admitted, wringing her hands. "I honestly think I'd rather die though, than marry him right now. If I have to play a charade fine, but I won't do it with a man who hates me."

"He doesn't hate you, Rose, I promise you that. And the reason you haven't seen him is because he had urgent business to attend to back in New London. I've been the one bringing you food, and the reason you haven't seen me is because you've been dead asleep every time I've come in. And the only reason I kept the door locked, before you ask, is because I was afraid you might hurt yourself otherwise if I didn't. There was enough in your room that you could've used I suppose, if you'd really wanted to. But I didn't need you getting out and into the nightshade, the knives, or the booze."

"Who's Romana Dvor...dvrora...trelundar?" she asked, filing away the information he was giving her, but trying to contain any reaction or emotion she might be feeling about. She herself wasn't even sure what she felt, especially not in the wake of the news that she was about to be going to her wedding dress fitting. This was a thing she had always imagined she would do with her mother, not with a slick but charming man in another city, far from home. And especially not in a forced marriage arrangement, either, false names or otherwise.

Jack's demeanor immediately changed. He became guarded, unsure. "Where did you see or hear that name?"

"I saw it in a book," she replied, not bothering to elaborate further. She expected him to press her for more information, and was surprised when he sighed, and seemed to sag a little internally.

"I suppose you're bound to find out soon enough, but I swear...if he asks you who told you or where you found out, you better not mention my name or I swear, it'll be the last bit of information you ever get out of me. Got it?" Jack asked, his voice the hardest and coldest she'd ever heard it since first meeting him. "You do not tell him that you know these things. He's insanely private, and if he knows you know and that I told you...livid doesn't cover it. And I know you've seen him drunk and angry, no repeat performances needed. So I'm going to tell you a few things, because I want you to understand the Doctor, and I don't want you to hate him, although you probably still will and I completely understand why. So listen carefully, because I'll only tell you once, and I'll deny it to my grave that I ever said anything at all. Are we sympatico, Rose?"

"Yeah," she asked, feeling a slight thrill of anticipation. Whatever Jack was about to tell her must be major, if all the fanfare and death glares were involved. She was rapt, hanging on his every word.

"Romana was the Doctor's wife," Jack began, and held his hand up to silence her when she gasped and started to ask him questions. "They were very young when they got married, only sixteen. They were seventeen when they had their daughter, and nineteen when Romana and the baby were killed in an accident. I can't tell you exactly what he used to do, but the Doctor was in a dangerous and sensitive line of work, and the accidnet that killed his wife and daughter was a hit gone wrong that was intended for him."

Alba's hand flew up to her mouth. "Oh my God! That's horrible!" she gasped, suddenly feeling sorry for the man. She couldn't imagine anything more heartbreaking.

"That first night you were here? The night of the incident-" Jack began.

"The night he assaulted me, Jack" Alba interjected, narrowing her eyes at him. "Let's be honest about what happened. He was drunk, and overpowered me. Whether I had wanted it to happen or not it would have, so I just took the more passive route rather than struggle, because I didn't want to prolong the experience. And since we're being honest, I'll tell you this, too-I came, and I've hated myself for that a little bit since then."

"Rose, I know, and I'm sorry. I am definitely not making excuses or condoning what he did to you. I hate that your very first impression of him was that, because he's so much more than a monster, Rose...he's a very damaged man, and the love of a good woman would probably do him some good. I don't expect you to love him...but maybe just understand the nature of the beast. Because you asked me a question, and because I don't want you to feel desperate and completely left out in the dark. Because I like you, and I see something good in you, and I think maybe you could be good for the Doctor if you could find it in you to open your heart to him, just a tiny bit," Jack said, stopping to take a breath. He seemed to be hesitating, on the verge of saying something else, agonizing over it, even. "That first night you were here was the ten year anniversary of his wife and daughter's death."

Alba sucked in a breath of air. It was still awful, but at least it made a little bit of sense. She was torn, between wanting to hate him and feeling a deep sense of sorrow and pity for the man, who had obviously never quite gotten over the awful thing that had happened to his young family. The ten year anniversary of it had likely ripped his wounds fresh open, and he'd probably been craving human contact without the desire to explain why to her. Still, she wasn't about to give it away that she might be on the verge of possibly forgiving him something that was way past the village of Minor Transgression and well into the territory of Unforgivably Repugnant. Still, she couldn't forget the way it made her feel when he smiled at her...and well, the orgasms hadn't really been terrible, either. That was what made it even more awful was that there seemed to be some bizarre sort of chemistry between herself and the Doctor that she couldn't even begin to cope with or understand.

"Plenty of people deal with tough shit without growing up to be rapists or psychopaths," she insisted weakly. Jack gave her a look that told her he could tell that her resolve was wearing.

"Listen, the Doctor will be back later tonight, and you've got your fitting shortly. It'll be good for you to get out. Maybe when he gets back, you two can talk," Jack said, taking something from his coat pocket. Given his previous protests that he wouldn't lay a finger on her or risk the Doctor's wrath, Alba was quite surprised to see a pair of fuzzy handcuffs, a red silk blindfold, and a pair of noise cancelling headphones.

"Jack…?" she asked looking at him, not sure what to make of the sight in front of her.

"Sorry," he said apologetically, cuffing her hands at her waist. They were tight around her wrists, tight enough that she couldn't slip through them, but not so tight that they cut off her circulation. The chain on the cuffs was short, and didn't allow much room for maneuvering, but Jack still used a carabiner, the type that you have to screw open and shut, to secure the cuffs to a belt he pulled around her waist, seemingly from nowhere. "You're not supposed to see or hear where we're going."

She grew a bit panicky at the thought of losing two of her senses, plus her freedom of movement. She strained against the cuffs. "No, please! Not the darkness…" she moaned.

"It's just until we get into the car, and for when we get out of it. For the ride, we can talk. It's going to take us a little bit to get to the seamstress-she doesn't live here, lives in a small town about an hour away. It'll be okay, I promise," he soothed, placing the headphones over her ears before she had a chance to protest. She could feel him guiding her out of the room, down the hall, and around what felt like a labyrinth. At one point, she felt the telltale sinking sensation that indicated they were in a lift, and then shortly there after Jack was helping her into the hover car and she could feel them lifting up and pulling away. After they'd been flying for a few minutes, Jack reached over and plucked the headphones from her ears. In the background, she could hear the soft, muffled sound of air moving over the outside shield of the car, and old big band music turned down so low that the words were indistinguishable over the brassy sounds of the instruments and the soft rush of the wind outside.

They sat in almost silence for what could've been forever; she had a hard time telling. Alba found that she actually didn't have a whole lot to say, but had plenty to mull over, and so she remained silent. To his credit, Jack seemed to sense her need to process and absorb what he'd told her, and he didn't make attempts at light flirtation or banter with her. Eventually, hesitantly, he draped his arm over her shoulder, but it was in a friendly, brotherly sort of way. She leaned against him, grateful for the quiet companionship at the moment. She didn't realize she'd nodded off until Jack was shaking her awake and telling her they were there, and apologizing for having to put the headphones on her again. She allowed him to help her out of the car and lead her to wherever their destination was. It didn't take too long to get there, and once they were inside he removed them from her head and unlocked and removed the fuzzy cuffs. He began to chatter with a woman in a language that she didn't recognize.

"Jessuro's going to undress you now, completely, and fit your garments from scratch. Don't be alarmed, she's very gentle and knows exactly what she's doing," Jack cautioned her, not wanting her to be taken completely by surprise.

"If you say so," Alba said, although she wasn't feeling especially reassured. Still, so far Jack had been the closest thing to a person she could trust recently, and she wanted to believe he was telling her the truth. She felt dry, smooth hands begin to slip her simple garments off her body, and then felt those same hands wind a tape measure around each thigh, her waist, her hips, her bust. The woman muttered to herself most of the time, although Alba still was unable to understand her. The hands and the muttering voice disappeared for a few moments and when they returned they were urging her to step into what felt like a pair of silk knickers and suspenders She felt the unmistakable constriction of a bodice being pulled, laced, and tightened around her upper torso, and then slightly relaxed and adjusted on her frame.

After a few more minutes of disappearing, and some more seemingly animated chatter with Jack, the seamstress returned and tapped the backs of Alba's calves, indicating she should step into the pair of shoes the woman was guiding her feet into. They felt tall, but chunkier than the heels she normally wore on a night out clubbing with her mates. Once she had gotten a steady footing, the seamstress guided her to step carefully forward. She felt a garment being pulled up and around her, and even buttoned into it, it still felt a bit loose.

"Wow...Rose. I wish you could see yourself right now, you look amazing," Jack said, and the awe in his voice was sincere. "It almost fits you perfectly, just needs to be taken in a little bit. Hold tight."

"Can I see?" she asked hopefully.

"Not this time, doll," Jack said regretfully. "But you'll get to see the finished product once it's ready, and that'll be even better."

Alba had her doubts about this, but sensed that there was no arguing to be done over this one. She let the seamstress pinch, pull, and poke the fabric around her into submission before pinning it. Jessuro took a few more final measurements before helping Alba back out of the dress and complicated under garments. Her and Jack exchanged some more conversation in the strange, unrecognizable language, and then the seamstress helped her back into her nightgown. Jack was right behind her with the fuzzy cuffs and headphones.

Back in the car and snuggled against Jack's side, she silently mulled over everything that had happened that day, and what she would possibly say to the Doctor when she saw him that wouldn't give away her new knowledge of his past. It was going to be hard not to give away that she knew something, and would probably require a little acting, fibbing and finesse on her part.

All the world's a stage… was the last thought that popped into her head before she drifted back off to sleep.