FicWad

The dress arrived mid-morning. It was silk, dark red, and stopped a couple inches above her knees, ending in beaded fringe that sparkled and clicked softly when she moved. She rather liked it. She took another shower, dried her hair and pulled a comb through it, letting it fall in a straight bob that just barely brushed her cheekbones. Her reflection smiled back at her, and she briefly wished she had her make up. When she went back out into the main room, she found that he'd acquired new shoes for her as well. They had low heels and diamond (they were probably fake, but Stella would take what she could get) studded straps, matching the dress and clicking whenever she took a step. She liked these too.

Lunch was had in the restaurant that connected to the hotel lobby downstairs. Dimitri offered her pricey wine to drink in a real crystal glass, and she ordered filet mignon, specifically going for the most expensive thing on the menu just to see how he'd react. He'd paid for it all without batting an eye and took her shopping.

After spending actual time in Dimitri's company, she found that he was a lively conversationalist. He alluded to an extensive family: a mother in California, a father overseas, and several brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, and uncles.

"You sound like you've been everywhere," she said, clicking her tongue.

He smiled at her as they stopped outside of a store. The gilded sign over the door read: "Tiffany & Co."

"I have been several places," he admitted. "Ever since I was a small child."

"You don't look that old."

He laughed and opened the door for her. "I have good family genes. We age well and are all older than we look."

She hesitated. "You're spoiling me," she said. "What for?"

"Because I can," he said. He gave her a smile that was open and honest - and boyish. He really did look very young sometimes. "It is to make up for debacle of last night."

"So you're buying another night?"

"Several of them, if you do not object."

She thought about that, considered her position in the great reign of the speakeasy. She was the new dancer, the young one, pushed around by the older girls. It was only her status as a virgin that kept the boss happy and made her pricey, but as soon as that was gone... She'd be just another cheap whore. Granted, the boss said he liked her spirit, but how many of the girls in the 'easy really kept that...? Oh the horror stories the older ones told her - and the older ones weren't much older than Stella herself. They didn't live long.

"Several," she said - it wasn't phrased as a question, but the punctuation was definitely implied.

He nodded. "Several nights," he said. He let the door slide shut again and came to stand in front of her. "And days. I will be blunt. I like you. You are very special girl."

It dawned on her like the sun peeking up over the cover of the horizon. Slowly, but it was intense. "...You're courting me," she said.

He laughed. "It has taken you this long to figure that out?"

She considered that. Really, she could do much worse. However, this was a man who dressed plainly, accent heavy, who spent a lot and had a name that she was sure wasn't his real one. "There's a problem," she said. "You're not on the level with me."

"No, I am not," he said. He shook his head. "There is much that I cannot tell you now."

She pursed her lips. "Are you really this loaded?" she asked.

"Yes."

"So you're not spending money you don't have?"

"No. Have you seen me use credit yet?"

"Not on the lam are you?

He hesitated for a bit. "No. Not in the sense you are thinking of. It is complicated."

"So not in trouble with the police then?

"No."

"Hmm. Not that I'm a gold digger or anything, but a girl's gotta watch out for herself. Okay, tell me this. Is Dimitri your real name?"

He shook his head. "It is not. You call me 'asshole' remember?"

She leaned forward and poked him in the chest. "Are you really a Russian?" she asked. To that, he smiled and then winked. That was all the answer she was going to get, wasn't it? She stood back and glanced away - down the street, at the curb, anywhere but those blue eyes that were so damned distracting. He was, in a sense, being honest about the fact that he was dishonest. She'd dealt with a lot of dishonest men since coming to the city. None of them had ever been honest about being dishonest.

Dimitri was a strange, strange man.

She glanced around her companion's shoulder. The Tiffany sign and the fine diamonds and jewels in the window display were tempting. Oh, were they tempting. Especially to a girl who'd really never had anything nice for herself, but Stella was not a wholly stupid girl.

"I'll tell you what, daddy," she said. "Let's you and me go for a walk. If you're still around in a week, you buy me that diamond necklace in the window."

He took a glance over his shoulder to get a look at the necklace. It was a simple strand of small diamonds that would fit snugly around a small neck, like a choker. It had one hell of a price tag, she was sure. "This is fair," he said with a nod. "One week from today, you will have that necklace." He offered her his arm. "For now, you and I will go for a walk. I have a friend I want you to meet."

"This the friend with that lodging you were talking about this morning?"

"He owns theater and house for his performers to stay in while they are working," he said. "He has offered you a room of your own for a while."

"This gonna cost me?"

"It has been taken care of."

She snorted. "I shoulda figured."

*

The old theater reminded Stella of a church. There wasn't much in the way of seating, and the gold paint was starting to flake in places, but it had a certain theological charm to it. Probably had something to do with the stylized carvings of angels into the pillars near the back of the auditorium. In the ceiling was a beautiful stained-glass domed skylight in hues of orange, gold, and red. A depiction of the sun shining down on the audience.

She hardly noticed the little stage, having her head back to stare at the skylight as she walked. Being so distracted, she walked right into Dimitri's back with an "oof!"

"Sorry."

"Is alright."

She finally tore her gaze away from the ceiling and took a look around. The stuffing was starting to peek out of some of the seats and the gilt wallpaper was coming undone. Save the skylight, the place had definitely seen better days. The stage was tiny, the wood scared and scratched. The curtains were old and matted, dark red with gold trim while the backdrop was a fading black. "Nice place," she whispered and her whisper was carried all through out the auditorium, bouncing off the walls in the back and rebounding up front.

"It is not the decor," Dimitri said. "It is the acoustics." He paused and ran a hand through his hair. "Is also cleanest theater in Chicago."

For a moment, she thought he was joking, but the closer she looked, the more she didn't see any dirt. The carpet was worn and fading, but free of grime. The rows of seats were slowly being gone through and repaired. Places where the wallpaper had come completely undone were starting to be patched. The work was slow going, apparently, but it was happening. "Is your friend restoring it?" she asked.

"It is his project. I do not know about 'restore' but he likes things to look nice, yes. Likes to do these things "

"What's his name?"

There was a pause from the Russian. His blue eyes narrowed and he mouthed several words as if going down a mental list before coming up with, "Lucas."

"Lucas," she repeated and then jabbed him in the side. "You sure ducky?"

He smirked and walked away, over to the side of the room where a small set of stairs led up to the main stage. He paused with one foot on the floor of the stage and the other on the top step. "He is most likely in back. Are you coming?" he asked.

She pursed her lips and looked unsure for a moment. For the past twenty-four hours, ever since plopping herself into this man's lap, she'd been led around. He hadn't led her /astray/, exactly. For him to lead her astray, she'd have to know where they were going in the first place.

For the most part, he hadn't lied (or he'd been honest about his lies, which was an oxymoron in itself), hadn't ever backed down from his word, and was - overall - good to her.

Stella had a weakness for men who spoiled her, even if they probably weren't what they seemed, so she followed him to the stage. If nothing else, she had a horrible curiosity curse and wanted to know what the other shoe was going to be when it dropped. She'd landed on her feet before, and was fairly certain she could do it again.

He took her by the hand and led her across the small stage with the clip clop of her heels echoing around the empty auditorium. They were halfway to the stage door on the other side when she heard the voices.

"I am telling you there is a problem!" squeaked one voice. The man it belonged to was definitely nervous and excitable. "Opening night's in two weeks! Where am I going to find a-" the voice was cut off as the curtain drew back and two men emerged.

The first man was blonde. His hair was artistically mussed with curls; his eyes were as blue as Dimitri's and his clothing was pressed to perfection. His shirt and coat both a light gray and his pants a matching gray just a shade darker. The second man had been the one speaking. His shirt was pulled out of his pants, wrinkled and un-cared for. His hair was wild and dark, as were his eyes. He was currently clinging to the blonde, ready to launch into another tirade when his eyes fell on Stella.

He stopped, blinked for several moments and moved his mouth, gaping like a comedic fish.

"I told you. There isn't a problem," the blonde said with a smug grin as he approached Stella and Dimitri, holding out his hand. "Long time no see, Dimitri."

Dimitri clasped the man's hand. "Good afternoon. I hope we are not interrupting anything."

"Not at all. I was just discussing the opening with Dennis. Is this the young lady you spoke of earlier?" The blonde let go of Dimitri and smiled to Stella. She wondered when the hell her Russian had time to go out and talk to people, but then figured she'd probably slept a lot longer than she meant to. A lot could've happened in an hour.

Dimitri put an arm around her waist. "This is Stella," he said. "Stella, this is Lucas."

"I figured." She put her hand into Lucas's without waiting for him to extend his. "Nice to meet you."

Not ten seconds later there was a cry and Dimitri was knocked back as the dark haired Dennis crashed into him. "Eleutherios!" he cried and then released the stunned Dimitri, holding him at arms length with a wide smile. "It's been forever! Who is this lovely creature you've brought me, hm?"

Stella blinked as his gaze settled on her again. She barely heard Dimitri repeat her name as Dennis released him and reached out for her hand, taking it from Lucas and bringing it up to his lips. "Ma chérie," he said just before he kissed the back of her hand.

"A gentleman?" Stella asked. She smirked over at Dimitri. "I think I like this friend of yours."

"He's eccentric," Lucas said. The blonde man crossed his arms and waited for Dennis to release Stella's hand. When this happened, he pulled Dennis back to a proper distance. "But he can be a genius. This is our director."

"So you really are putting on a show in here, huh?" Stella asked, glancing around again at the place.

Dennis nodded and sighed. He started wringing his hands together. "Two weeks from now, but the problem is our headliner up and quit on us. Showgirls these days... So it's a good thing you're here!"

"It - what?" she asked, stepping away. She felt the blush starting to rise over her collar, flushing her cheeks with color. "I'm not an actress."

Lucas put a hand on Dennis's shoulder and pulled him back again. "Stella is my guest," he said simply. "She's staying with me until Dimitri gets settled. You are not to harass her, do you understand?"

"Aw, but look at her!" Dennis gestured toward Stella in a motion that obviously meant he saw something Lucas did not. "She's perfect! Tell me honey, do you sing?"

Stella shook her head. "I... no. No I don't sing." Especially in front of an audience. Dancing at the 'easy was one thing. Singing and acting were something else entirely.

That was as far as the conversation got before the doors to the auditorium flew open, banging against the back wall. A tall, gaunt man stalked down the aisle. He wore clothing that could only be described as three or four decades out of style. There was a lot of lace involved. The stranger wore a top hat and carried a cane. As he approached, she noted that the knob of the cane was a growling wolf's head.

The demeanor of the men on the stage changed instantly. Dimitri moved to stand in front of Stella. Lucas's eyes narrowed and his muscles tensed as though ready to spring. Dennis was growling under his breath.

"Well, isn't this convenient?" the stranger drawled. His British accent was as thick as Dimitri's Russian. He tapped his cane on the floor and tipped the brim of his hat to the men on the stage. "I come looking for the golden boy and find my brother."

"What do you want, Giovanni?" Dimitri asked, tone low and though not threatening, definitely not friendly.

The man, Giovanni, raised his head. "Aw, now, is that any way to greet family?" He paused and reached into his long tailed coat, pulling out something wrapped in heavy burlap and tied with a frayed piece of thin cord. "I met a chap in Boston last week. Said I had to give this to you. Can I come up there or is he going to eat me?" He waved his cane to indicated Dennis, who was still growling.

Lucas muttered something Stella couldn't understand to Dennis, hand still resting on the growling man's shoulder. "I'll have no violence here, gentlemen."

"I'll come down and get it," Dimitri said in an obvious effort at diplomacy. Stella had to commend him on his bravery. However ridiculous the man looked in that old-fashioned finery, he gave off a terrible aura. Even being on the stage a good ten feet away from him gave her goose bumps. This man was Dimitri's brother?

"I don't know what it is," Giovanni explained as Dimitri descended. "But I got it from our brother. That brother, if you catch my meaning." Dimitri stopped and stared. "He asked me to give it to you, as you'd be more willing to let me find you than him, obviously. I asked mother, but you know her. Never a clue what anyone's doing unless it suits her to know. Father's off in Europe doing something or other in Germany or Russia - wherever he can find his action. 'Suppose we should be there too, but we're on vacation. I haven't seen the little one around in ages, so I came here to ask Ah-"

"Lucas," the blonde man corrected hastily. Stella glanced over at him. Another pseudonym. Oh great.

Giovanni recovered nicely. "Lucas! Right you are! At any rate, I thought Lucas here would know, if anyone did. Stroke of luck you managed to be here too, isn't it?"

"Very lucky," Dimitri said, his tone flat and his eyes narrow. He took the package from Giovanni and untied the string, peeking under the top layer of burlap. Even from the stage, Stella saw all the color drain from his face. His hand shot up in a blur, catching Giovanni around the throat.

"Dimitri!" Lucas snapped.

The Russian ignored him. "Do you swear you had nothing to do with this?!"

"Honest!" Giovanni croaked, dropping his cane and holding his hands up in a gesture of truce. "I swear to you on our great-grandmother's life, brother, I don't know what's in it."

Dimitri released him just as Lucas jumped down off the stage to separate them. Without a word, Dimitri shoved the package into Lucas's hands and glanced up at Stella. "You will be safe here. I will see you as soon as I can," he said and walked up the aisle at a pace just short of a jog. Stella felt a short pang of regret at his leaving, even with the promise to return. That was odd, but she suppressed it.

"I'll be damned - again - he finally got to him... What's in it?" Giovanni leaned over to look at the package in Lucas's hands. The blonde's back was turned to her, so she couldn't see what he held cradled to his chest, but whatever it was made Giovanni swear loudly. He grabbed his cane and ran to catch up with Dimitri. Stella was not sorry to see him go.

"What... is it?" Dennis asked, almost leery of what Lucas held.

"Anteros," was the reply. He did not turn around but Dennis growled again and started forward to jump off the stage - presumably to follow Dimitri and his strange brother. "Don't," Lucas said. "We have a show to open in two weeks and an actress to find. This isn't our fight. Leave it."

"But -"

"Trust me, Dennis. Have I ever led you astray before?"

"There was that one time in Jamaica..."

"Can it." Lucas turned around and climbed back onto the stage. The burlap was again carefully concealing whatever it held that was so horrible. He smiled at Stella. "I apologize for that," he said. "Family emergency."

She crossed her arms. "I see that."

"Well, shall we get you settled in?"

She gave in, as he did not seem willing to give out any more information than that, and followed both him and Dennis backstage.