somanyadjectives | fifty shades of stefan } { tonight the (whoo!) will hit the fan [1922]

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fifty shades of stefan } { tonight the (whoo!) will hit the fan [1922]

[Continued from here.]

The thing that Stefan loved about the twenties is that everything is an indulgence. Even the simplest thing, like taking the girl that he and Rebekah were sharing earlier out and finishing the job is treated like something rare and delicious. The entire atmosphere just screamed luxury and the seductive taste of the forbidden. It's the simple pleasures that have kept driving him forward since Damon left him reeling and bloody, rather than drowning in the guilt and self-loathing that makes him want to stab a stake through his chest.

This? This is infinitely more fun.

His voice is a low, seductive purr as he pushes Maria - Maria Walsh, from Oklahoma City - up against the wall and let his lips tease over her skin. She gives a soft, breathy giggle as he does, not making any move to push him away, but for the sake of propriety needing to put up some kind of protest. "Oh, Mr. Salvatore. What would your girl say?"

He gives a soft chuckle against her skin, taking in the scent of her blood with a deep breath, before murmuring. "I don't think she'll mind."

And with that he'll sink his fangs into her neck and start drinking her dry. Her blood tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, that delightful combination that goes right to his head in a way that no high ever could. God, he loves this decade. He hopes it never ends.

[Continued here.]

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She immediately saw some kind of accusation in that, like she'd been stalking Stefan. It was hard enough protesting her innocence when she was guilty but...when she was innocent?

No. She didn't like this fella.

Then again, she supposed warily, she hadn't liked Rebekah at first either. She had to remind herself not to judge based on first impressions. After all, she'd found Stefan in a pool of blood.

So she turned on the charm, amping her Awe up a little to make herself look more appealing (which wasn't hard, but she still wasn't sold on the wig) and she smiled. "Stefan and I seem to have the most amazing luck when it comes to running into one another," she said.

"Oh really. How ... clandestine." Klaus doesn't really seem all that impressed, but at the same time, she's not really impressed by much. He just settles back in his seat to watch her carefully, noticing how she is very attractive.

Unfortunately for Klaus, after a hundred years of attractive people, it takes more than that to impress.

"What brings you to Chicago?"

Stefan might have gotten the truth from Diana. The rest of this audience, however, was another matter. For all she knew, they were all in league with the Children of Eden and Grandmother.

She set her chin on her fingertips and continued to smile. "Looking for a new joint to play," she said. "New York got boring."

"I've never been to New York," Rebekah admits wistfully. Chicago had been their first venture out of New Orleans in a very long time, and she doesn't see New York on their list of places to stop quite yet. "But from what I've heard, I can't imagine how it would get boring."

It couldn't. That was the flaw in Diana's lie. There was a very good reason why she generally told the truth as much as possible.

She was a terrible liar.

For a second, she worried she'd painted herself into a corner. But then it hit her.

"Love affair gone south," she said. "Needed to get away for awhile."

"Ah. I'm sure Rebekah can relate to that. She can never seem to land a man that stays."

Mostly because Klaus kills them all. The look on Rebekah's face says as much, that the problem isn't so much with the men as it is with her brother. "Nik's quite narrow-minded on the idea of the ideal suitor for m."

Diana's eyes flicked briefly to Stefan. She really hoped that Rebekah was worth the apparent aggravation. After all, she wanted her friend to be happy.

"Nothing worth doing is ever easy."

And with that, she turned back to Rebekah. "Your brother should meet my sister. She went after my last suitor with a fireplace poker."

Rebekah can't help the flicker of a smirk at that. She would love to see that happen, even if it would end in a messy, bloody death for the sister in question. The way Klaus's face darkens tells her that.

But never let it be said that she doesn't enjoy needling her brother.

"Well, she certainly wouldn't be the first."

"That doesn't surprise me," Diana replied. "My sister isn't very creative. Kind of a Dumb Dora when it comes to innovation." Which wasn't to say she didn't love Selene. She did. Fiercely and protectively. Warts and all.

Or, fireplace pokers and all.

She turned back to Nik, glancing up at him under half-lidded eyes. "Did you catch my act?"

"I did." His tone is still a bit sullen but he can play nice. Sort of. "You're no Gloria, but it was enjoyable, for the most part."

Diana very rarely got complaints. She knew she was good. Hell, she knew she was great.

Both eyebrows went up. Just slightly. Disappearing under the fringe of her wig.

"Thanks," she said. "I think."

"Ignore my brother," Rebekah says with a bit of an eye roll. "Gloria is a personal friend and he's ... protective. I thought it was lovely." Aside from the moments where Diana was song flirting with her boyfriend.

Rebekah was greeted with one of Diana's most charming smiles. The one that went all the way up to her eyes and lit them like amethysts. "Stefan," she said, unable to take her eyes off of the blond, "your doll is delightful."

The brother, not as much.

"How'd you two meet?"

Yes, well. Unfortunately the Mikaelsons are a package deal, one way or another. Stefan sits up a bit as it's indicated he's allowed to reenter the conversation before leaning back in his seat.

"We met here, actually. She yelled at me and my friends for drowning out Gloria."

They actually met before that, but telling Diana that Rebekah leaned in to steal a taste of his date probably wouldn't go over so well. He hopes at least that Rebekah picks up on that, though he can't say that Klaus would care.

Diana gave Rebekah an approving nod. It was proper etiquette. A singer needed to be heard. Stefan had never struck her as particularly rowdy, but then again, his kind could indulge in hooch.

Or maybe she was kidding herself.

The uneasy feeling she'd first had was returning to her a little bit. She just couldn't put her finger on what it was.

"You're lucky," she said. "If someone talked over my singing, I'd get down off the stage and scold them in public." Not that it ever happened. But that's what she imagined she'd do.

"Fortunately, here you wouldn't have to. Rebekah is all too willing to go and white knight for you." Klaus shakes his head a bit before allowing Stefan to finish the story.

"We played a bit of cat and mouse with each other for a while, but in the end, I did finally manage to get her name out of her." He glances over with a bit of a smile. "Rebekah." Rebekah smiles in return, clearly enamored with him.

The looks they exchanged made Diana smile. And remember, of course. But lately, it seemed like the smallest thing--an autumn breeze or a a particularly hip tune--made her remember. But she didn't feel lonely. Or jealous. Just, maybe, a little wistful.

"Sounds like the cat's pajamas to me," she said, laughing softly.

"It was," Rebekah nods, before turning back to the rest of them. "It's been quite lovely, being here. At least in my opinion."

"I agree," Stefan nods. "Chicago is rapidly becoming my new favorite city."

Well, wasn't he a far cry from the southern gentleman she'd met? Not that that was a bad thing. It was critical to adapt. It was the only way to keep up and keep up appearances. Diana gave him a very approving nod.

But something still felt...off.

She turned to look over at Klaus. Was it him? "How do you like the city?" she asked.

Klaus pauses for a moment, before giving a bit of a shrug. "A city is a city. I've seen many of them rise and fall in my time, and they're all the same in the end. This one just happens to be a little ... windier than most."

Way to flash your age around. If Diana were a fella, she thought, he'd be trying to measure other things of his against hers.

The thought made her giggle. Out loud. She had to press her fingers to her mouth to keep from getting too tittery.

"It's not as romantic as New Orleans," she admitted. "But the music is pretty swell."

"Nothing ever really measures up to New Orleans in my opinion," Klaus replies wistfully, a bit of sadness to his tone. "I'd much rather be there than here."

He almost spoke of New Orleans like a first love. Or like a Prince who'd been unseated. She knew plenty about both, the former from firsthand experience, the latter from too much time out West. Neither gave her all the answers about Klaus, but they were interesting possibilities.

Why were vampires so complicated?

Her eyes cut to one side, glancing at the entrance to the club. Two bellbottoms came inside and a quick glance at their auras immediately told her they were Cainites. And therefore not bellbottoms. Just poorly disguised.

Merde.

"Do you dance?" she asked the gentlemen abruptly, seeing as her flirtations with Rebekah had been thwarted.

Stefan and Rebekah both look up in surprise. Stefan had almost been prepared to respond to the question himself, but when he noticed she was talking to Klaus, he couldn't help but stare slackjawed in surprise.

Klaus seems to be a bit startled as well, because that's something that's almost never asked of him. "Not often." It seems to be simple enough.

"Fortunately," she said standing up, a flash of garter and thigh visible through the slit in her beaded dress, "today isn't often."

She glanced at him, almost daring him to refuse her invitation.

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