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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"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.

Klaus watches her carefully for a moment, before nodding his agreement. "Very well. If I must." It's a careful air that he puts on, as though this is some great hardship, when really, the fact of the matter is he almost never gets asked. This could be worth exploring.

Diana wasn't good at coming up with plans. That was pretty much a fact, just like the sun rising in the east or Liam being a square. But what was also a fact was that Stefan meant a lot to her. And so she would protect him at any cost. And, by extension, anyone that he considered a friend.

Even if she didn't get a good feeling from Klaus.

So very slowly and seductively, she walked backward onto the dance floor, hips swaying suggestively, her back to the fake bellbottoms who were currently scoping out the place. She held out a hand.

Klaus takes the hand before pulling her closer. Despite his lack of a partner, he was actually quite good at this. Benefit of having lived through some of the more genteel periods in history. "I have to say - I am quite surprised by your offer."

Now that was the opposite of something a Prince would say. What a strange and mysterious man. Off-putting in one moment, almost charming in the next.

Kind of Malkavian, actually. In that mercurial sort of way.

She fell into step with him, embellishing his lead with little flashes of leg, here and there. "As Stefan will tell you, I'm a surprising person." She glanced over Klaus' shoulder, her eyes half-veiled by the fringe of her wig. Struggling to catch his gaze, she flicked them in the direction of the fake sailors, hoping he'd notice.

"I'm also perceptive," she added The slang was beginning to fall out of her speech. This was important. She couldn't waste words. "This is your turf and I'm here uninvited."

Stefan does notice it, following the direction of her eyes and letting them linger there for a moment while he decides whether or not he actually cares. Rebekah is already whispering in his ear, and frankly those ideas have a lot more promise, but for right now he'll toe the line between them.

"I'd hardly call it mine." There's a slow smirk at his words, before he glances down to her. "Though we were here first."

"Where I come from," she said, turning her attention fully back to Klaus. "It's a breach of the social contract to come into someone else's domain without presenting oneself and promising nothing but the best of intentions. Which I have."

She had them in spades. It was a problem.

"I promise to leave things exactly as I found them."

Klaus hums for a moment, a devilish smirk crossing his face in response. "Funny, I can't say I can promise the same. I tend to like to leave an impact."

"Well, that's certainly your right," she said. "And I get the feeling you're damn good at it."

She didn't bother asking him to pardon her French, as it were.

Diana lifted her chin slightly, nodding in the direction of the fake sailors. "Do you know them?"

Klaus glances back over his shoulder in the direction she indicated, before giving a bit of a shrug. "They came in a few days ago. I can't really say I know them well, but I certainly haven't determined them well enough to eat."

"I wouldn't," she said quietly. "They're Cainites. You'd walk away from it with a nasty blood bond or two."

"Now there's a word I haven't heard in a while," Klaus turns his attention back to her, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Cainites never seemed to approve of me and my siblings, when we first started out."

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