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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"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."

Diana couldn't speak to that. She didn't know nearly enough about Klaus or his siblings. But it was more or less what she'd been hoping to hear. If he didn't like Cainites, then maybe they had something in common.

"If I'm right about who those two bellbottoms are," she said, "then they're not only Cainites, they're holier-than-thou Cainites. And probably going to cause trouble."

"Are you worried about trouble, darling?" His tone holds a bit of a smirk to it, because he never minded a little bit of crazy. "Personally, I think it makes things interesting."

"I like trouble just fine," she said. "I'm in a speakeasy. Only...we're looking at a very different kind of trouble."

People could get hurt. Chief among them, anyone involved in her particular assignment. And Stefan too. She didn't want anything to happen to him, but it wouldn't be hard to draw a line between them. After all, they'd been seen together in public, leaving a Cainite conclave not too long ago.

"Are we?" He raises his eyebrows curiously. "Then what kind of trouble do you mean."

"Breaking the Masquerade," Diana replied. She wasn't in the Camarilla, but they did have some pretty good ideas. As stringent as the Traditions could be, they did protect Cainites against attention.

Attention only drew hunters.

Hunters only led to death.

It takes him a moment to respond, before sighing heavily. They didn't have a "Masquerade" for his kind of vampires, but at least they knew the importance of keeping secrets and cleaning up their tracks. And idly, he wonders if his skills with compulsion would be useful on Cainites. But until then ...

"Why not just kill them and be done with it, then?"

A part of her should have known. A part of her probably did know, but she'd forced it to one side, hoping to have...hope.

She felt stupid now. She'd smelled the killing edge on Klaus the moment she laid eyes on him.

"Killing isn't the answer," she said, stepping back and looking at him with a furrowed brow. "Killing is never the answer."

"Killing is always an answer," he points out dully, looking down at her as though she should know better. "It's simply a matter of how far you're willing to go."

Her eyes strayed to Stefan. She wanted to ask him why. Why was he friends with this person? Did the sister really come with that string attached? The company a person kept rubbed off on them. That's why she chose to spend as much of her time as possible among mortals, among the young and the ambitious and the lively.

Being around him, she felt, would only lead to the way she'd found Stefan all those years ago.

In a pool of blood.

"Not that far," she said firmly. "Never that far."

"Mmmm." Klaus considers for a moment as the song comes to an end, before he takes a step back and leans in to kiss her hand gently. "Unfortuantely, my dearest Diana, that is not a risk I am willing to take."

He's not going to run the risk that these idiots could bring Mikael right to Klaus's front door. So consider it a guarantee that Klaus was going to take care of the problem for her.

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