somanyadjectives | fifty shades of stefan } { but his number came up and he was gone with the draft [1942]

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fifty shades of stefan } { but his number came up and he was gone with the draft [1942]

After leaving New Orleans, without his brother, Stefan mostly sets about the task of blending in with the allied forces. He isn't bad at it - he's had many years of practice after all, and while none of them are a substitute for Damon, who knows him better than anyone, and had actually seen like he wanted to make amends and move forward instead of being trapped in the past, it's enough. It's being out among people and not feeling the need to manipulate or destroy them.

He feels like he's starting to feel like a person again. It's been a long time since he's felt something like that so he's trying to revel in it as much as he can - though not too much. Too much indulgence might make him forget the dangers that come when he forgets restraint and he never wants to become that person again.

He does, however, make frequent use of the various bars and officer's clubs that they visit on their way to ship out, hanging out and drinking with his friends and applauding loudly when the talent (usually girls) hits the stage in full swing. Most of the time the acts pass without notice, but one night he's in the middle of a bourbon when a very familiar voice takes the stage. His head picks up almost instantly, turning towards he stage with wide eyes as he takes her in.

"Diana?"

[Continued here]

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The USO wasn't too thrilled with Diana. Her routines were too 'suggestive,' they told her. But that didn't matter. It was easier for her to do her work performing in less official venues. Really, it was the same routine from the 1920s, going to bars and clubs while she moved dhampir from one checkpoint to the next. But with the added bonus of boosting troop morale. Because Diana and the Order fully supported the war effort. In a way they never had before. This was a different sort of American war. For the first time, to Diana's mind, it truly felt like it was about justice and doing the right thing.

Which was a strange thing to think about a war. Admittedly, Diana wasn't too fond of the killing aspect of doing the right thing.

That evening, she was actually doing the show just for fun. There weren't any kids to move, which meant she could get a little indulgent. The last song of her set was Night and Day and she was flirting mercilessly with the boys in the front row. Mostly sailors, which worked out nicely, since she was wearing a very, very skimpy, sequined version of a sailor's uniform.

"Night and day, under the hide of me
There's an oh, such a hungry burning inside of me
And its torment won't be through
Till you let me spend life makin' love to you
Day and night, night and day!"

Whistles and catcalls practically drowned out the final notes, but she didn't care. She loved it. "Well, boys," she said, "that's the last of it. But before I go, how about a parting kiss?" The men were screaming. Diana reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, plush heart with white lace all around the edge. It was soaked in her perfume, a toasted almond scent. "Whichever one of you wins my heart, come up here!" And with that, she turned around and tossed the heart over her shoulder like a bouquet.

While the men who did catch Stefan recognizing the singer rib him into trying to catch the heart, he waves it off, not wanting to make that how they see each other again after all of this time. It's not that he doesn't want to see her - he does, and he knows he has some apologies to make - but he's not going to force himself on her in the middle of all these people.

He can wait until the show is over.

"Well, if you don't, I will," comes from one of the men sitting next to him, dashing through the crowd to grab hold of the heart before anyone else could. There's a bit of scuffling on the other end as he does, but eventually he emerges victorious and makes his way up to the stage.

Ever the flirt, Diana thought it was fun watching the boys fall over themselves to get the little heart. She played with a piece of her hair and bit her lower lip and pretended to look so very concerned. Boys, boys, no fighting over lil old me and all that.

It really never got old.

But as she watched the usual scuffle, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a stillness in the crowd.

That was odd.

Before she could really get a look at what was going on, though, an enlisted man was up on the stage. Diana turned on her most radiant smile and grabbed his collar. "Win it for this, soldier," she said, before planting a kiss on him that smeared her red lipstick all over his face. The crowd went wild again.

It takes a moment for the soldier to find his footing in the face of such a take-charge woman, but when he stumbles back again, he looks a little dazed, but pleased all at the same time. "Yes, ma'am!" he says with all the vigor of someone who hasn't seen the other side of war yet, and the crowd laughs and cheers his good fortune all the same.

Stefan smiles softly in response, before finishing his drink and making his way quietly out the door. Waiting outside by the stage door seems like the much better option and right now, he could do with some fresh air.

With the show officially over, Diana flitted and flirted with the crowd only long enough to take a bow. She'd planned to stick around a little longer, but something was nagging at her. And some Malkavian instinct told her that it was better to get out.

Backstage, she changed hurriedly into her street clothes and said goodnight to the other girls, before slipping her guitar strap over her shoulder and heading out the stage door.

So much for her night off, she thought somewhat wistfully as she pushed the door open with her hip. She'd been looking forward to going dancing. But Diana knew better than to question her instincts right now. Things were just too dangerous.

It takes him a moment as she opens the door to work up the nerve, knowing that she's probably the last person he wants to see, but Damon isn't the only one he needed to make amends to. And as far as he's concerned, Diana deserves it far more than Damon does. He waits until she's clear of the door, before he takes a step forward, speaking up as he does.

"Diana."

It's nothing more than that, just her name. He wants to see if she'll stay and listen before he starts to apologize.

The surprise didn't set in right away. Diana turned in the direction of the call, expecting to find a member of the Order waiting with dire news of some kind.

And there was Stefan Salvatore.

Their last encounter hadn't been so great. At least, what little she remembered of it. Half, most likely, had been lost to regression. But the other half was bad enough. He'd been...he'd been awful. A complete nightmare, really. The very worst kind of vampire. One without remorse.

She'd thought of him, over the years. Sort of felt like she'd failed him, really. Like, if she'd just tried a little harder, she might have been able to save him. Fix him. She'd even go so far as to ask Artemis to try to locate him once. Artemis had refused. Sometimes, you just need to let people make the mistakes they need to make, she'd insisted.

But Diana shouldn't have listened. She shouldn't have agreed. And now, here they were. And she was completely unprepared.

Her hand reached back for the handle of her guitar. "Stefan."

He sees her go for the handle of her guitar and his hands come up in a show of surrender. He certainly looks more put together than he was the last few times they had seen each other. He isn't even armed - just standing there in his dress uniform, a slightly pleading expression on his face.

"Please, I'm not here to cause trouble. I just want to apologize."

She paused.

It was in Diana's nature to always want to see the best in people and believe them for what they said. But she had been tricked more than once. And Stefan--at least, the Stefan she knew--probably knew her well enough to play on her sensibilities.

But...

Well. She couldn't think of a very good reason why a mass murderer would be going off to war. At least, not on the Allies' side.

She narrowed her eyes at him, taking a peak at his aura. "Are you still killing people?"

He shakes his head quickly, being the first to deny that before anything else.

"No. No, I'm not." There's a hesitant pause and it's obvious that the guilt for the things he's done weighs heavily on him. He doesn't want to be back in that position again. "I'm trying to make amends. I know I can't fix all of them, but I'm trying."

Even if she hadn't been able to see the colors of his aura, somehow, Diana would have known he was telling the truth.

Somehow.

At once, the guitar was forgotten. She took a deep breath, stepping closer to him. Not quite at arm's reach just yet. But her posture was open and unafraid, like the day they'd met.

"Then...it worked? Lexi..." She made a vague gesture, trying to encompass the idea of 'fixed you' without saying it.

He laughs softly at that because he's not fixed. Not by a long shot. But he's certainly doing better than he was. "It took some time, but she managed to get through to me. She's been helping me try and put my past behavior behind me and move forward on a ... better path." Or something. "I've been making amends, and I'm going to work with the medics in Egypt to see if I can handle blood in practice without losing control."

It was enough.

Diana lunged forward with that, wrapping her arms around Stefan and giving him the hug of a lifetime, so tight it pressed her necklace against his chest. She ran her fingers up into his hair and buried her face in his neck.

"You're back," she whispered. "You're back, you're back!"

He's almost bowled over by the hug, but he eventually regains his footing again, wrapping one arm around her waist to keep her close. It's the reaction he was hoping for, but not one that he thought he'd receive. "I don't know if I would call it back, exactly. But I'm trying to be better."

Good news was so hard to come by these days. Almost back felt like enough, somehow. She laughed, giving him a harder squeeze before she remembered that his kind needed to breathe.

And she reluctantly let go.

"There is so, so much to...to say!"

"There is," he nods, before glancing back over his shoulder. "I thought we might be able to get a drink somewhere, maybe? I'm afraid the bunks back at the base don't really have much in the way of privacy." And this seemed to be something that needs a classier touch.

Unfortunately, Diana was staying at a ladies hostile. One with an exceptionally stern matron that disapproved of gentlemen callers.

Through the front door, anyway.

Biting her lower lip, she thought about it for a second, then took Stefan's hand.

"Follow me. And...just...don't draw any attention."

Stefan is good at being sneaky. That's possibly one ripper-related skill that he doesn't mind abusing. He just nods, following her lead and trusting her not to lead him off a cliff - which, he probably deserves, but that's not the point. He has a feeling she won't.

Maybe.

Cliffs weren't really Diana's style. She could hurt people, make them practically feel like they'd been shot through the heart and she was to blame. But it wasn't her fault. She never did it on purpose, anyway.

(Maybe she did give love a bad name...)

At any rate, holding on to Stefan's hand, she wound through the streets, trying to figure out a circuitous route, to better avoid any of the other girls from the hostile seeing the two of them. Not that they would bust her to the matron, but the fewer people involved, the better.

The facade of the building was ancient and imposing. Heavy brick, with small, dingy windows. Fortunately, Diana's room was around the back, so she led Stefan that way, before pointing up. "The third floor window on the far left. Do you see it?"

Stefan follows her lead through the city, not stopping until they reach the house in question, but when she points out the window involved he nods. "Yes." Then there's a beat. "Do you need me to go through it?"

"Yes," she replied. And she grabbed the collar of his dress uniform, planting a quick kiss on his lips before he could stop her or say anything, for it or against it. "I'll meet you inside."

She started to move away, but then stopped, turning back to him. "Don't let anyone see you."

Because it was going to be that simple, of course.

Of course it's going to be that simple. But that's probably because Stefan can move much quicker as a vampire than a human can. He pauses for a moment, studying the scene, before launching himself into the air and grasping hold of the edge of the roof near her window.

Diana made her way in through the front door. The matron was eyeing her as usual, but she was technically in before curfew. Anyway, how could anyone hold it against her for supporting the war effort?

She flashed the older woman an innocent smile before taking the stairs two at a time up to her room.

There wasn't much to it. After all, it was just a temporary stay. But little touches of Diana could be seen all around: A guitar tucked into the corner; a silky purple nightgown thrown haphazardly over the dresser; a steamer trunk practically bursting with beads and feathers and bows. And about fifteen pairs of shoes scattered around in no particular order or organization.

She closed the door and locked it, before scurrying over to open the window.

Once the window is open, he slips his legs inside, gently closing the window behind him and hoping he didn't draw too much attention. Once that's done, he turns back to her with a smile.

"This is a nice place."

"It's all right," she said. It lacked the grandeur of the Manhattan hotels she preferred. To say nothing of the Order mansion out in LA. But she couldn't complain in a time of war. It was wrong.

And it was on that thought that she took a moment to admire the way Stefan looked in his uniform.

"I can't imagine you going over there," she said, in a mixture of awe and envy.

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