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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"Apart from singing for the boys, you mean?" She was particularly proud of that contribution, however small it was, to the effort. "Oh, I've been keeping busy." Said-oh-so demurely. Her face split into a grin. "Have you heard that new song? Tangerine?"

Not one of her best compositions, admittedly. But there was a delightful catchiness to it.

A catchiness that was making her bundles of dough.

His eyebrows go up a bit at that, then he smiles. He should have known it was her particular hand behind it. "I like it. It's a favorite a some of the dance halls I was visiting back in New Orleans."

Giddiness was practically oozing out of her lavender eyes. "One of mine," she said proudly. "One of many now. You'd be amazed how much someone is willing to pay for a song that isn't theirs. Just to slap their name on it."

She did a neat, little spin on her toes, looking delightfully pleased with herself.

"It makes moving across the country so much easier!"

"I'm sure it does. Me, I'm still mostly relying on old family money, but it must be so exhilarating to build your own life." He wonders if maybe sometime he should try it. But at the same time, he's way too lazy to do so. Privileged white male problems.

It was all terribly ironic, considering the fact that Diana was an heiress. But she didn't have a lot of time for irony these days. The world was moving at a faster pace and she enjoyed being swept up along in the current.

"I'm working on a new piece," she said, already moving toward her guitar. "Maybe you'd like to hear it?"

"I would love to." He shifts to lean back in his seat, ready to sit back and listen to her play.

Diana perched herself on the foot of her bed and slipped out of her heels, neatly tucking her long legs to one side. The amount of skin she was showing these days was scandalous by Selene's standards. But Diana thought she might as well show off her assets.

Anyway, it was the fashion now.

She picked up her guitar, settling it against her chest. Effortlessly, her fingers danced over the strings, strumming out a lovely tune. "I don't have words for it yet," she said, ducking her head apologetically. "But the way the notes play...it makes me think of falling snow. Christmas."

He tips his head to the side as he listens, before smiling softly as he nods. "Yeah. Think you might write the next hit Christmas Carol?"

"Maybe," she said, looking very pleased with the idea. "But...you'll be away. I won't have you to play it for."

Diana wasn't as concerned for Stefan's life as she might be for a normal soldier. But a trace of hesitation was evident, beneath her teasing. Wars were a dangerous business. A bullet couldn't kill, but it would hurt like hell.

And a fire...

All of those things would definitely be dangerous, but Stefan's been through worse. He can certainly take care of himself. "Then you'll have to play it for me when I get back. I'm sure we'll see each other again soon enough."

She looked up at him, eyes twinkling just a little bit. "Do you...do you think you'll be home for Christmas?"

...there was something there.

His eyebrows go up a bit at that before he tips his head to the side. "I don't think the war will be won that quickly." Despite his supernatural talents, at any rate.

"I suppose not," she said.

But her voice was faraway, half lost under the sound of her guitar.

Writing a song was a messy piece of business. A small part of it had to do with talent and skill. But the larger part of it involved some sort of magic that Diana couldn't even describe. The spark of creation. That's what she called it.

But where ever it came from--heaven or hell--it would always come unexpectedly. She had to honor it.

"Christmas Eve'll find me
Where the love light gleams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams..."

Stefan leans back and listens, letting the sound of the song wash over him, along with a slow smile. When she finishes, he sits up more, before nodding with more of a grin.

"I think that'll be another hit."

Diana nodded, a vaguely pleased look on her face. "It's something to work with, anyway."

While she didn't suffer her sister's perfectionism, she had her moments.

But for the time being, she set her guitar down on the floor, standing up and padding back over to Stefan. Neatly, she set herself on his lap, draping her arm around his shoulders and looking up. She inspected his face like she was appraising a jewel. "I think you're very brave, Stefan Salvatore."

He glances back to her, one hand moving to rest against her waist gently. "Brave?" He raises his eyebrows a bit as he watches her. "I'm not sure brave is the word for it, but thank you."

"Well, what word would you prefer?"

There was one that occurred to her. York-ish. Despite their flammable dispositions, York girls were always inclined to run straight at a fire, instead of running away as others would do.

But she didn't want to make it about her. Stefan was working through something. It felt important. And kind of sacred.

He hesitates for a moment, because he doesn't know for sure. He isn't sure who he is anymore and it's hard to quantify himself as brave when he hasn't earned it yet. "Attempting it, maybe? We'll save any real bravery for when I actually succeed."

She leaned forward, lightly knocking her forehead against his temple. "There's courage in the attempt. Cowards rarely try."

But she didn't want to argue about it. Stefan had to find his own courage.

So she continued on.

"When are you shipping out? Tomorrow?"

"After the weekend," he says with a nod, grateful to change the subject. "I've said my goodbyes so now it's just a matter of getting on the boat and heading out to Africa." It's a big step, but it's one he needs to take. If it weren't for where he was going, he would almost be looking forward to it.

Diana smiled slightly. She thought Africa sounded very mysterious and exciting. It was a place so very far out of her reach. She could only rely on photographs and stories. Hopefully, Stefan would bring back even more stories.

Hopefully, he'd come back.

"Well," she said thoughtfully, "that doesn't give us much time, does it?"

Stefan plans to come back. He certainly doesn't want to end his life on the battlefield, if nothing else. He smiles a bit at the comment though, before nodding. "No, it does not. But then again, we never really do have much time, do we?"

She exhaled softly, trying to make a joke out of her genuine sadness at the reality of it. "True," she said, interlacing her fingers behind his neck. "But we certainly aren't boring."

Odd, by vampire standards. But never boring.

Diana gave him a gentle, little kiss. "But," she continued, "as a soldier, your wish is my command. I'm here to serve the troops."

He hums softly at that kiss, because that's one of the things he missed from their friendship, before pulling back a small smile. "Well, I hope you're not opposed to sharing a little luck with a man before he goes to war?"

Abruptly, Diana threw her head back, letting out a peel of delighted laughter. Was this the same deranged girl he'd run into back int he 1930s? Yes. That was the beauty of being what she was.

"Only you, Stefan Salvatore," she teased him. "Only you would think that I had much in the way of luck."

She nuzzled his chin, burbling with delight. "But whatever I have is yours."

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Bet you didn't know that song was written about Stefan

learn something new every day

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