Who: Charles Brandon & Margaret Tudor What: Smutting each other up. When: Nowish Where: Her Highness' new home. Warnings: Oh yes. Sex, smut, smacking each other around, language. It's been a few hundred years, after all.
Charles managed through portkey and private jet to make his way to where Her Highness, the Princess Margaret, was waiting. His wife. She had sounded quite disagreeable, but that was not new, and in fact, it was rather a turn-on for him.
And he did love the woman, as infuriating as she was. Of course, that did not mean she needed to know all the details about who he had been sleeping with while she was not around. Besides, did it matter? They were not technically married! He had the band to think of, he had Harry and his damn foolish notion of that girl!
He had groupies, which were practically the same as the other women at Court.
"Margaret?" He looked about, trying to find her. "I've got your clothing. We can go shopping later if you wish it." Which she would, knowing her. Hopefully, he could distract her first with more important things...