[rp log] Naughty naughty, you'll get caughty | Branwen & Spike
After an unfortunate curse exorcism, Branwen finds herself without some of her memories. And Spike is more than willing to help her remember, even if she's remembering the wrong thing.
The sun was shining. Which was nice, since the forecast called for a lot of clouds. The weather was getting cold and Branwen did not approve. She didn’t deal well with cold. But then, she’d spent almost all of her life in hell so she was rather partial to warm. Deciding to take advantage of one of the last nice days of the season, she headed to the beach. Once she was there she picked a spot, shed her hoodie and jeans to reveal her black bikini with gold accents and lay back on a towel in the sand. She’d get as much sun as she could before the weather forced her into layers of clothes. That and she liked people watching. And in the middle of a nice day, there were quite a few people on the beach.
Sunlight. Spike could go out in sunlight. It had been two hundred years, and now he could go out in broad daylight without being burnt into nothing. Granted, Spike had never been afraid of being awake during the day or even moving around when the sun was up. But he hadn't strolled on the beach or lounged about or went to coffee shops to read poetry or -any- of the things people did all day, every day, in two hundred years. Spike was dressed in his black shortsleeves and his jeans, tromping through the sand in his boots. The beach. God, how long had it been since he'd been to the beach! He threw his blonde head back and looked up at the sky and smirked. Blue. And with some fluffy white clouds. A nice day. Then he trained his eyes on the water, and the way it looked with the sun shining down on it. There was such a difference between sunlight on water, and moonlight on water. It warmed his old, unbeating heart to see it. He wasn't paying attention to wear he was going as he looked out at the water, and therefore almost tripped over Bran! Then he realized she was there--after kicking a little sand onto her towel--and dropped down beside her instead of walking on. "This is a lot better than that no lying thing, as far as I'm concerned," he said to her, taking a look a bit longer than a glance at her in the bikini. Eric would have skinned him, no doubt. "Hullo, Bran. Taking in the sun, I see."
After almost having been tripped over, Branwen couldn’t help but let out an indignant squeak over the fact that a) someone -wasn't- noticing her and b) someone had kicked sand on her and her towel. However, when said someone decided to plop down next to her and strike up a conversation like they’d been friends for ages, or she at least knew what he was talking about, she couldn’t help but give him a once over. “Yes well, the weather’s getting cold so I might as well make of it what I can…” She said, grinning at Spike. He was terribly attractive, especially with the accent. He may have been a little on the pale side, but then, so was Eric so she wasn’t going to complain.
Spike leaned back easily on his hands in the sand, tipping his head back in the sun. His blonde hair was slicked back as usual, and he let out a quiet laugh. "That's a good attitude to have about it, aye." He said, nodding. He was pale, to be sure. But if this sunlight thing lasted for a while, he'd be out every day as often as he could be. It felt so nice and warm against his skin. The sunlight took the chill away from his body in the way that only blood could. "How've you been, Bran? Need any information or anything? I can be a hard man to find if I'm not at home, but you can leave notes taped to my door, if you'd like." He looked over at her with cerulean blue eyes, legs crossed a bit.
“Well, there is one tidbit of information that is eluding me,” She said thoughtfully, propping herself up onto her elbows and looking up at Spike, batting her icy blues at him. “Who are you, and how do we know each other?” She grinned sweetly, no hint of a lie in her voice. He seemed familiar to her, she just couldn’t place it. “I’m doing awesome, by the way. Got into a fight with a guy named Castiel, I’m missing about a month’s worth of memories, you know, a day in the life.” She shrugged.
Spike glanced over at her in shock for a moment. Then he quickly smirked, tongue curling behind his teeth. "A whole month it's been, love?" He asked, cocking his head. "We met at open mic night, at Rain's place. If I remember correctly Bran, you couldn't keep your eyes off me." The vampire sat up a bit, so he could look at her better. "And other things as well..." Implying that they'd done more than just talk, and though it was a lie, Spike'd been lying for most of his unlife. It was extremely hard to tell, unless you were someone like Angelus, who knew Spike's every movement. "It's such a shame that you don't remember, pet."
Branwen cocked her head in slight confusion, her brow furrowing a bit. The movement of her head cause her hair to fall over her shoulder, revealing small, half-healed bite marks. “Is that so?” She mused, racking her brain. Vague memories tried to stitch themselves together for her, but nothing solid. She loved Eric, she had really strong feelings for her, she knew this, she remembered it. But Spike was there. In her apartment…he gave her a rose. There were other things, but she couldn’t make sense of them. She definitely got a sense of mixed feelings from him. “And your name…?”
"Name's Spike," he said with a nod. "And.... last mic night, we sang a pretty racy song together. I could hear your heart racing when I touched you." He eyed the bites that Eric had left, and smirked again. He knew he was playing with fire. Eric was so much older than him, it was unfathomable. He could destroy the young vampire quite easily, if he really wanted to. Spike shifted his knees up, and draped his arms over them.
Watching Spike with a raised brow, she pushed herself up into an actual sitting position, one leg stretched out, one brought up for her to rest her chin on while she thought. Sitting this way revealed a small tattoo on her inner thigh written in the old English style, the word was Latin, ‘Addonexus’. “I think I remember it.” She mused, “Something about roses…it’s why you gave me one, right?”
The blonde eyed her thigh, and leaned on his arms. "Mmhmm. It was a pretty morbid song, but it was still a love song." He looked out at the water again, lithe body nearly folded in half with the way he was sitting. "Too bad the big Viking got most of your attention before I did. We could've had fun together." Spike glanced back over, offering her a wink.
“By the way you were talkin’, I thought we did. Unless you were lying to me~” She purred, grinning at him. “Besides, I don’t know if you could compare to Eric. I mean sure, he’s only awake during the night, and we have our fights…but damn. The make up sex…” She grinned coyly at him. If Spike was any sort of good at reading between the lines, he could have translated that into ‘You’re attractive, and bad. I like bad. My days are free, sometimes the night time too. As long as you’re good in bed.’ Branwen could never be taken at face value. She was evil, straight to her core. She did love Eric, and she wouldn’t want to hurt him in any which way…but she liked getting as much attention lavished on her as possible. Usually she sucked people in just to use them for her own devious purposes. Fighting fights she didn’t want to, gathering information, doing menial tasks she couldn’t be bothered with. She was a diva, she couldn’t help herself.
He smirked. "We did have fun, just not to the extent that I would've liked," he said without missing a beat. "I do remember leaving quite a few lovebites, though." Spike looked over at her, his smirk staying plastered on his face. He was a letch, that was sure. And if anything, the vampire was -excellent- at reading between the lines. He saw things for what they truly were, instead of what people thought them to be. And if Bran was willing to mess around on Eric when the older vamp was out like a light? Well, Spike was ready and willing as she was. Bran was cute, and young, and had a smile to die for. "Only awake during the night, hmm? That must get pretty boring for you, unless you go to school or something..."
“I just dropped out.” She admitted, shrugging a bit. “It was boring as hell. Humans are only so fun to manipulate until it just gets boring. And the teenage ones aren’t even useful. Like, at all.” She turned her gaze to him and smile. “Besides, if I ever need to do math, I’ll just make someone do it for me. That’s what they invented accountants for.”
"Why do you even need school, anyway? You're a fucking demon, right?" Spike laughed, turning his blue eyes to hers. He just shook his head. "Accountants and calculators. You know, I was never much for school when I was your age, either." He said. No, he would rather had been writing in his room or reading his poetry to people. Especially his mother, who was the only person who loved it. He smirked. "Was never much for authority, for that matter," he nodded.
“Well, it was something to do with my days,” She said with a grin, shrugging a bit. “But yeah. There’s all these rules and the teachers and you can’t ‘talk back’ and then I kept getting threatened by them that they would kick me off the cheerleading squad. So I just quit everything. I’m sure I can find something better to do with my time anyways.” She trailed off, grinning a bit to herself before her attention returned fully to Spike. She wanted him to keep talking, his accents was all sorts of wonderful. She smirked a bit suddenly. “So to what extent would you have liked? To have fun with me, I mean.” She snickered.
"Girl like you shouldn't be in school, anyways. It's just a waste." He agreed with her, and gave her a wink. He reached with a smirk on his face, and drew a few fingertips out across her bare knee. "Oh, I could say things to you that'd be fit to make a girl your age blush like an apple." Spike dropped his hands back into his lap, and kept his eyes on her. "But I'm a Victorian gentleman after all, Bran. I should probably keep my lecherous tongue to myself," he grinned, "unless of course you'd appreciate more of it." His tone suggested that he was teasing her lightly, but beneath all that he was being straight up. It was obvious by the way he looked at her that he wanted her. And dear old Spike had been taught by the very best when it came to pleasing a woman; his great grandsire had seen to that. Being a prostitue had its perks, after all.
She watched his fingers with a bare hint of interest before her gaze flicked to his face, watching him out of the corner of her eyes, a little smirk on her face. She couldn’t help but let out a laugh at his word though, shaking her head. “Sweetheart, you don’t know the first thing about a girl my age. Not in this decade anyways.” She giggled and rested her cheek on her palm, her elbow on her raised knee. “And Spike, my memories might now be fully intact, but I’m not dumb. You are anything but a Victorian gentleman.” She snickered and flicked her hair over her shoulder, an unconscious, flirtatious action. She was neither telling him to continue or to stop. That was her way, and the way of all demons.
Spike laughed. "Oh, pet. See, this is why I believe we should get to know each other better, especially if it involves much more bare skin." He smirked, watching her. "I'm afraid my shriveled black heart and my lack of a soul make it damn near impossible for me to show just how gentlemanly I am, outside of the bedroom." He ran a hand through his bleached hair, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. "But inside the bedroom, I'm as much of a gentleman as you've ever met, I can guarantee. Always putting the bird to the forefront of my mind, which is very chivalrous, don't you agree?"
“Ah-ah.” She said with a playful grin, “Baby steps, sweet. You want to see me, you gotta earn it. I’m a demon, you said it yourself. And when demons are concerned, everything’s a deal, everything comes at a price.” She couldn’t help but laugh, leaning back on her towel again, stretching her arms above her head. “Although I will agree that it is a very gentlemanly thing to do, putting the lady first in bed. It’s really the only way to go about it.”
The vampire wouldn't let himself be disappointed by her deflecting him. It was alright- he'd have her one day, or he'd continue to flirt with her, dangerously close to the edge. He was sure that if Eric got wind of it, he'd remove Spike's head from his shoulders. Or finally put a stake through his heart, something that every single person who'd fought him over the course of two hundred years had failed to do. He was sure that Eric wouldn't fail, if he tried. He laughed again, a nice sound that wasn't hard on the ears at all. "A deal, a deal. I know that love, I've been dealing with demons all my unlife. I'm a persistent man, of that there is no doubt. I'll earn the right to ease your jeans off your hips, and thensome." It sounded like a promise, and it was. He looked back out at the ocean, finding that the feel of the sunlight and the sight of it still took his unneeded breath.
"Well don't you just know how to sweet talk a girl," Branwen cooed, pulling a pair of large, Paris Hilton-esque sunglasses from the pile of clothes beside her and putting them on her face. “Of course the accent helps,” She added with a giggle.
He grinned, shaking his head in amusement. "Told you I was lecherous," he murmured, looking back to her for a moment. "The accent helps, of course. And if my accent and my perverted tongue aren't enough to get the girl, I can always tell them that I'm Billy Idol." He joked, leaning back on his hands again. He hated Billy Idol, but he was well aware of how many people made the connection between he and the human singer.
“Celebrities are over rated. They’re all as dirty as their drugged up groupies.” She snickered. “You wanna really wow me, become a prince.” She giggled a bit, crossing her arms behind her head as she dug her feet into the warm sand. “Or, in your case, just be a vampire.” She had always had a thing for vampires, ever since she was little. She hadn’t ever met one until she came up to Earth. First Pete, then Eric and then Spike. They fascinated her to no end. They were alive, but they were dead. They could not digest anything, but they needed blood to stay functional. They could feel while being completely emotionless. And the most recent thing she learned, there were different breeds all together. Pete, Spike, and Eric all had things in common, but each were completely separate from one another.
"I could be a princely vampire," he said, keeping his eyes out on the water. "Or even a kingly vampire. A Vampire King, specifically for you." Spike laughed again at the concept, even if it wasn't so far fetched. His species of vampires didn't exactly live to be very old. The oldest he knew of aside from the Master, who had only been around 800 or 900 years, was Darla. At two hundred years old, Spike was well on his way to being one of the oldest of his species, a prince in his very own right. Other vampires like him would flock to his authority, if he ever put it in good use.
“There are vampire kings…” she mused, “At least with Eric’s type of vampire. He could have been king, but he settled for sheriff. He’s so powerful~” she purred. “Modesty is sexy on a man.” Not on her though. She didn’t know how to be modest, even if modest slapped her in the face.
"Eric, Eric," he chuckled. "Pretty decent guy, I suppose." Spike shifted in the sand, almost ready to take his leave of her. "Modesty, vampirism and princliness." The vampire finally stood, cracking his shoulders. He smirked down at her. "You know Bran, you're giving me quite the criteria. I hope you're not too surprised when I live up to it." 'When' and not 'if.' Yeah, modesty was lost on Spike as well. But he could pull it off, if he tried.
Branwen lowered her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, smirking at Spike. "I can't wait to see the day."
He winked at her, tipping an invisible hat to her. Charming. "You won't have to wait too long, love." Spike gave her a little wave. "I'll be seeing you, Bran. Don't get too burnt out here. Crispiness only looks good on bacon."
The sun was shining. Which was nice, since the forecast called for a lot of clouds. The weather was getting cold and Branwen did not approve. She didn’t deal well with cold. But then, she’d spent almost all of her life in hell so she was rather partial to warm. Deciding to take advantage of one of the last nice days of the season, she headed to the beach. Once she was there she picked a spot, shed her hoodie and jeans to reveal her black bikini with gold accents and lay back on a towel in the sand. She’d get as much sun as she could before the weather forced her into layers of clothes. That and she liked people watching. And in the middle of a nice day, there were quite a few people on the beach.
Sunlight. Spike could go out in sunlight. It had been two hundred years, and now he could go out in broad daylight without being burnt into nothing. Granted, Spike had never been afraid of being awake during the day or even moving around when the sun was up. But he hadn't strolled on the beach or lounged about or went to coffee shops to read poetry or -any- of the things people did all day, every day, in two hundred years. Spike was dressed in his black shortsleeves and his jeans, tromping through the sand in his boots. The beach. God, how long had it been since he'd been to the beach! He threw his blonde head back and looked up at the sky and smirked. Blue. And with some fluffy white clouds. A nice day. Then he trained his eyes on the water, and the way it looked with the sun shining down on it. There was such a difference between sunlight on water, and moonlight on water. It warmed his old, unbeating heart to see it. He wasn't paying attention to wear he was going as he looked out at the water, and therefore almost tripped over Bran! Then he realized she was there--after kicking a little sand onto her towel--and dropped down beside her instead of walking on. "This is a lot better than that no lying thing, as far as I'm concerned," he said to her, taking a look a bit longer than a glance at her in the bikini. Eric would have skinned him, no doubt. "Hullo, Bran. Taking in the sun, I see."
After almost having been tripped over, Branwen couldn’t help but let out an indignant squeak over the fact that a) someone -wasn't- noticing her and b) someone had kicked sand on her and her towel. However, when said someone decided to plop down next to her and strike up a conversation like they’d been friends for ages, or she at least knew what he was talking about, she couldn’t help but give him a once over. “Yes well, the weather’s getting cold so I might as well make of it what I can…” She said, grinning at Spike. He was terribly attractive, especially with the accent. He may have been a little on the pale side, but then, so was Eric so she wasn’t going to complain.
Spike leaned back easily on his hands in the sand, tipping his head back in the sun. His blonde hair was slicked back as usual, and he let out a quiet laugh. "That's a good attitude to have about it, aye." He said, nodding. He was pale, to be sure. But if this sunlight thing lasted for a while, he'd be out every day as often as he could be. It felt so nice and warm against his skin. The sunlight took the chill away from his body in the way that only blood could. "How've you been, Bran? Need any information or anything? I can be a hard man to find if I'm not at home, but you can leave notes taped to my door, if you'd like." He looked over at her with cerulean blue eyes, legs crossed a bit.
“Well, there is one tidbit of information that is eluding me,” She said thoughtfully, propping herself up onto her elbows and looking up at Spike, batting her icy blues at him. “Who are you, and how do we know each other?” She grinned sweetly, no hint of a lie in her voice. He seemed familiar to her, she just couldn’t place it. “I’m doing awesome, by the way. Got into a fight with a guy named Castiel, I’m missing about a month’s worth of memories, you know, a day in the life.” She shrugged.
Spike glanced over at her in shock for a moment. Then he quickly smirked, tongue curling behind his teeth. "A whole month it's been, love?" He asked, cocking his head. "We met at open mic night, at Rain's place. If I remember correctly Bran, you couldn't keep your eyes off me." The vampire sat up a bit, so he could look at her better. "And other things as well..." Implying that they'd done more than just talk, and though it was a lie, Spike'd been lying for most of his unlife. It was extremely hard to tell, unless you were someone like Angelus, who knew Spike's every movement. "It's such a shame that you don't remember, pet."
Branwen cocked her head in slight confusion, her brow furrowing a bit. The movement of her head cause her hair to fall over her shoulder, revealing small, half-healed bite marks. “Is that so?” She mused, racking her brain. Vague memories tried to stitch themselves together for her, but nothing solid. She loved Eric, she had really strong feelings for her, she knew this, she remembered it. But Spike was there. In her apartment…he gave her a rose. There were other things, but she couldn’t make sense of them. She definitely got a sense of mixed feelings from him. “And your name…?”
"Name's Spike," he said with a nod. "And.... last mic night, we sang a pretty racy song together. I could hear your heart racing when I touched you." He eyed the bites that Eric had left, and smirked again. He knew he was playing with fire. Eric was so much older than him, it was unfathomable. He could destroy the young vampire quite easily, if he really wanted to. Spike shifted his knees up, and draped his arms over them.
Watching Spike with a raised brow, she pushed herself up into an actual sitting position, one leg stretched out, one brought up for her to rest her chin on while she thought. Sitting this way revealed a small tattoo on her inner thigh written in the old English style, the word was Latin, ‘Addonexus’. “I think I remember it.” She mused, “Something about roses…it’s why you gave me one, right?”
The blonde eyed her thigh, and leaned on his arms. "Mmhmm. It was a pretty morbid song, but it was still a love song." He looked out at the water again, lithe body nearly folded in half with the way he was sitting. "Too bad the big Viking got most of your attention before I did. We could've had fun together." Spike glanced back over, offering her a wink.
“By the way you were talkin’, I thought we did. Unless you were lying to me~” She purred, grinning at him. “Besides, I don’t know if you could compare to Eric. I mean sure, he’s only awake during the night, and we have our fights…but damn. The make up sex…” She grinned coyly at him. If Spike was any sort of good at reading between the lines, he could have translated that into ‘You’re attractive, and bad. I like bad. My days are free, sometimes the night time too. As long as you’re good in bed.’ Branwen could never be taken at face value. She was evil, straight to her core. She did love Eric, and she wouldn’t want to hurt him in any which way…but she liked getting as much attention lavished on her as possible. Usually she sucked people in just to use them for her own devious purposes. Fighting fights she didn’t want to, gathering information, doing menial tasks she couldn’t be bothered with. She was a diva, she couldn’t help herself.
He smirked. "We did have fun, just not to the extent that I would've liked," he said without missing a beat. "I do remember leaving quite a few lovebites, though." Spike looked over at her, his smirk staying plastered on his face. He was a letch, that was sure. And if anything, the vampire was -excellent- at reading between the lines. He saw things for what they truly were, instead of what people thought them to be. And if Bran was willing to mess around on Eric when the older vamp was out like a light? Well, Spike was ready and willing as she was. Bran was cute, and young, and had a smile to die for. "Only awake during the night, hmm? That must get pretty boring for you, unless you go to school or something..."
“I just dropped out.” She admitted, shrugging a bit. “It was boring as hell. Humans are only so fun to manipulate until it just gets boring. And the teenage ones aren’t even useful. Like, at all.” She turned her gaze to him and smile. “Besides, if I ever need to do math, I’ll just make someone do it for me. That’s what they invented accountants for.”
"Why do you even need school, anyway? You're a fucking demon, right?" Spike laughed, turning his blue eyes to hers. He just shook his head. "Accountants and calculators. You know, I was never much for school when I was your age, either." He said. No, he would rather had been writing in his room or reading his poetry to people. Especially his mother, who was the only person who loved it. He smirked. "Was never much for authority, for that matter," he nodded.
“Well, it was something to do with my days,” She said with a grin, shrugging a bit. “But yeah. There’s all these rules and the teachers and you can’t ‘talk back’ and then I kept getting threatened by them that they would kick me off the cheerleading squad. So I just quit everything. I’m sure I can find something better to do with my time anyways.” She trailed off, grinning a bit to herself before her attention returned fully to Spike. She wanted him to keep talking, his accents was all sorts of wonderful. She smirked a bit suddenly. “So to what extent would you have liked? To have fun with me, I mean.” She snickered.
"Girl like you shouldn't be in school, anyways. It's just a waste." He agreed with her, and gave her a wink. He reached with a smirk on his face, and drew a few fingertips out across her bare knee. "Oh, I could say things to you that'd be fit to make a girl your age blush like an apple." Spike dropped his hands back into his lap, and kept his eyes on her. "But I'm a Victorian gentleman after all, Bran. I should probably keep my lecherous tongue to myself," he grinned, "unless of course you'd appreciate more of it." His tone suggested that he was teasing her lightly, but beneath all that he was being straight up. It was obvious by the way he looked at her that he wanted her. And dear old Spike had been taught by the very best when it came to pleasing a woman; his great grandsire had seen to that. Being a prostitue had its perks, after all.
She watched his fingers with a bare hint of interest before her gaze flicked to his face, watching him out of the corner of her eyes, a little smirk on her face. She couldn’t help but let out a laugh at his word though, shaking her head. “Sweetheart, you don’t know the first thing about a girl my age. Not in this decade anyways.” She giggled and rested her cheek on her palm, her elbow on her raised knee. “And Spike, my memories might now be fully intact, but I’m not dumb. You are anything but a Victorian gentleman.” She snickered and flicked her hair over her shoulder, an unconscious, flirtatious action. She was neither telling him to continue or to stop. That was her way, and the way of all demons.
Spike laughed. "Oh, pet. See, this is why I believe we should get to know each other better, especially if it involves much more bare skin." He smirked, watching her. "I'm afraid my shriveled black heart and my lack of a soul make it damn near impossible for me to show just how gentlemanly I am, outside of the bedroom." He ran a hand through his bleached hair, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. "But inside the bedroom, I'm as much of a gentleman as you've ever met, I can guarantee. Always putting the bird to the forefront of my mind, which is very chivalrous, don't you agree?"
“Ah-ah.” She said with a playful grin, “Baby steps, sweet. You want to see me, you gotta earn it. I’m a demon, you said it yourself. And when demons are concerned, everything’s a deal, everything comes at a price.” She couldn’t help but laugh, leaning back on her towel again, stretching her arms above her head. “Although I will agree that it is a very gentlemanly thing to do, putting the lady first in bed. It’s really the only way to go about it.”
The vampire wouldn't let himself be disappointed by her deflecting him. It was alright- he'd have her one day, or he'd continue to flirt with her, dangerously close to the edge. He was sure that if Eric got wind of it, he'd remove Spike's head from his shoulders. Or finally put a stake through his heart, something that every single person who'd fought him over the course of two hundred years had failed to do. He was sure that Eric wouldn't fail, if he tried. He laughed again, a nice sound that wasn't hard on the ears at all. "A deal, a deal. I know that love, I've been dealing with demons all my unlife. I'm a persistent man, of that there is no doubt. I'll earn the right to ease your jeans off your hips, and thensome." It sounded like a promise, and it was. He looked back out at the ocean, finding that the feel of the sunlight and the sight of it still took his unneeded breath.
"Well don't you just know how to sweet talk a girl," Branwen cooed, pulling a pair of large, Paris Hilton-esque sunglasses from the pile of clothes beside her and putting them on her face. “Of course the accent helps,” She added with a giggle.
He grinned, shaking his head in amusement. "Told you I was lecherous," he murmured, looking back to her for a moment. "The accent helps, of course. And if my accent and my perverted tongue aren't enough to get the girl, I can always tell them that I'm Billy Idol." He joked, leaning back on his hands again. He hated Billy Idol, but he was well aware of how many people made the connection between he and the human singer.
“Celebrities are over rated. They’re all as dirty as their drugged up groupies.” She snickered. “You wanna really wow me, become a prince.” She giggled a bit, crossing her arms behind her head as she dug her feet into the warm sand. “Or, in your case, just be a vampire.” She had always had a thing for vampires, ever since she was little. She hadn’t ever met one until she came up to Earth. First Pete, then Eric and then Spike. They fascinated her to no end. They were alive, but they were dead. They could not digest anything, but they needed blood to stay functional. They could feel while being completely emotionless. And the most recent thing she learned, there were different breeds all together. Pete, Spike, and Eric all had things in common, but each were completely separate from one another.
"I could be a princely vampire," he said, keeping his eyes out on the water. "Or even a kingly vampire. A Vampire King, specifically for you." Spike laughed again at the concept, even if it wasn't so far fetched. His species of vampires didn't exactly live to be very old. The oldest he knew of aside from the Master, who had only been around 800 or 900 years, was Darla. At two hundred years old, Spike was well on his way to being one of the oldest of his species, a prince in his very own right. Other vampires like him would flock to his authority, if he ever put it in good use.
“There are vampire kings…” she mused, “At least with Eric’s type of vampire. He could have been king, but he settled for sheriff. He’s so powerful~” she purred. “Modesty is sexy on a man.” Not on her though. She didn’t know how to be modest, even if modest slapped her in the face.
"Eric, Eric," he chuckled. "Pretty decent guy, I suppose." Spike shifted in the sand, almost ready to take his leave of her. "Modesty, vampirism and princliness." The vampire finally stood, cracking his shoulders. He smirked down at her. "You know Bran, you're giving me quite the criteria. I hope you're not too surprised when I live up to it." 'When' and not 'if.' Yeah, modesty was lost on Spike as well. But he could pull it off, if he tried.
Branwen lowered her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, smirking at Spike. "I can't wait to see the day."
He winked at her, tipping an invisible hat to her. Charming. "You won't have to wait too long, love." Spike gave her a little wave. "I'll be seeing you, Bran. Don't get too burnt out here. Crispiness only looks good on bacon."