Like Christmas Morning - Chateau Falaise

She had easily fallen asleep cuddled against Blake, her face peaceful as she slept. As her phone rang, however, she sat up almost instantly, pulling the device up to her ear. Her voice was a big groggy as she pushed her crazy sex-hair from her pretty face. "Hello?"

The sound was muffled, something about a delivery.

She squealed with unsuppressed delight. "Okay!" Hanging up the phone, she carelessly tossed it away and crawled up on top of the Kindred, straddling him. "Blake, are you awake?" Leaning down, she gave him a gentle kiss, though she couldn't stop herself from wiggling atop of him with excitement.

Blake blinked daysleep out of his eyes.

"Hmm? Oh hello lovey, ready to get started again so soon?" he asked, clearly happy to find himself straddled straight off in the evening by a beautiful blonde.

She placed her lips to his once more, then softly trailed kisses over his chin and down his neck, nipping playfully at his collarbone.

"No," Came the excited response, "I have something better than sex. Almost..

"C'mon!"

With a graceful roll off of the bed, she landed on the floor on her feet, slipping on the first suitable piece of clothing she could find - his shirt, hanging from the corner of a now-crooked painting in the room.

Blake turned over and tapped out a slightly bent cigarette from his pack, tapped one out, straightened it and lit it before getting up.

He took a puff, climbed into his black jeans and t-shirt and began casting around for his red button-down shirt. Giving up on it,after seeing it was on the blonde, he settled for following the blonde (and his shirt) around for a bit.

"Hang on luv," he said, "Keep your knickers on, I'm coming. Now what's this you're on about?"

She simply ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time and burst out of the door. In the front was a large truck, and two buff men were working to remove the canvas covering the back of the truck, a slick new Sikorsky on the back of it.

"Guys! Guys, just leave the canvas off." She ran over to them, her smile huge. "Is there gas in it?"

"Uh, yup." Said one of the men, beginning to fold the canvas from where he stood.

Blake let out a low whistle.

"Is that what I think it is? You bought a helicopter?"

"Yeah! This place has a helipad...I needed one. I took lessons though, so I'm sure we'll be fine."

She smiled brightly at him, turning away from the sleek bird long enough to close the space between Blake and her, slipping her hands into his and playfully tugged him towards the helicopter. "C'mon, handsome, wanna go for a ride?"

Blake's cheeks sucked in a bit and he looked at the toy. His ever present cigarette required his attention, a puff, an exhale and a tap of the red cherry to release the excess ash.

"Nope," he said. "Spent long enough here already anyway for now. Time I should be moving on for the night. Trouble I should be getting into, and cleaning out my old digs so nobody gets all boogity fingers about me leaving it a mess." Blake was maybe talking about the Camarilla, the ghosts or both. He turned to go back into the house, probably to find his coat.

She pursed her lips a bit, her arms crossing over her chest as she watched him walk inside. "Do you want me to do anything?" She took a few quick steps to catch up to him, following closely behind him. She flicked her tongue over the fingertip of her index finger, then slid it over a panel near the door. A small beep sounded, and the door seemingly opened by itself.

"Hmm? No pet, do what you want for the evening." He grunted approvingly when he found his black leather trenchcoat beneath an overturned vase near the entry hall and swept it clean of a few petals. "I'll be back to feed you again, maybe get a bit of a nip myself soon, schedule allowing and whatnot. Probably be moving somewhere else soon-ish so I wouldn't get too in love with this place. Bad idea to stay in the old boyfriend's house. Bad karma. Might want to make arrangements."

He flipped his coat on. In the tastefully track-lit entry hall it settled on his shoulders like a cloak of raven feathers.

"Less of course this life appeals to you more than what I'm offering after all," he quipped. "I mean you could always wait for daddy to come home and maybe pay you a little attention, or," he said, closing in on her again, "You can keep riding with me." His hands worked the small of her back and his lips brushed her throat, trailing fangs tearing little cuts of extacy into her that were just as quickly lapped closed with his tongue.

"Your choice," he said, letting go of her and backing away with almost a shove as he headed backward toward the door with a wicked gleam in his eye.

As she watched him, her jaw dropped in momentary disbelief. It closed and she took a few steps towards him.

"I.. but.. you.." She didn't seem able to complete a sentence, a lack of understanding, most often foreign to her, reflected in her features.

"Oh and pet, you don't mind if I borrow the bike for a bit do you? And maybe a few bucks? I'm afraid my budget was recently burned by hellfire. Damndest thing. Literally."

He strode out the door and swung a leg over the bike, looking back over his shoulder at her.

Following him out to the bike, her lips had parted once more. Even as she spoke her disapproval, she slipped a hand into her back pocket.

"But.. promise you'll come back? Are you sure I can't help?" When her hand emerged from her pocket, she was holding the keys to her bike and two $100 bills, which were promptly presented to him.

"Sorry pet," Blake said, grabbing the keys and cash with an appreciating not, "Things to do," he revved the bike loudly, drowning out any further protests, and slipped on the helmet hanging from the back of the bike.

He said something else, but in the roar of the motorcycle engine and the closing of the visor, it was hard to make out. Probably something like a goodbye.

The engine roared and he was off, a slight scorch of rubber beneath his wheels and smell of tiresmoke the only evidence of his passing.

(scene)