Happy Days

"What the hell are you two planning?" Leah felt her brow furrow as she caught sight of her lovers' identical smirks. Neither Paul nor Sam were much for facial expressions – the sly, smug little quirking of their mouths was more a giveaway that if either of them had said 'Leah we are planning things'.

Sam held up a length of black cloth. "Nothing. Turn around."

"Uh huh. Nothing. Right. Tell me why I have to turn around, and I'll think about it."

"Just do it Leah." Paul rolled his eyes, smirk still not leaving his face. "You'll like it. I promise."

"Right. If this is some weird bondage crap, I'm going to beat the shit out of you both." She warned, turning away, giving them her back. She trusted both men with her body, with her life, but when they were planning…

"Stop over thinking things." Sam scolded lightly, the black cloth drooping over her face to cover her eyes. He tied it quickly, reaching around the spread the fabric. He wanted to be certain that his Leah would not be able to see. He waved his hand in front of her face a few times, got no reaction, and smirked. "There we go."

"Plus you like our weird bondage crap, liar." Paul pinched her bottom lightly as he moved past her. She could heard him padding down the hallway, feet light, and wondered once more just what they were up to.

"Whatever." She scoffed, nose wrinkling as she turned her head left, then right. "Sam?"

"Right here, Leah." He pressed a hand to her side, steady and sure. "It's not weird sex things, I promise."

"Promises, promises." She mumbled, settling her weight further into his hand. She hadn't realized just how much she enjoyed being able to see.

She could hear Paul returning, felt him stop just out of reach. "Take off your clothes." His voice was calm, easy, and she had the feeling he was leaning against the wall.

"What happened to this not being about sex?" She mock-complained, pulling her tank top over her head. "Guys?" They didn't answer her, and behind the blindfold she glared. Leah wiggled out of her shorts before crossing her arms. "What now?"

"Underwear too, Leah." Sam said lightly, fingers absently unclasping her bra. She lowered her arms, let it slip to the ground. Pulled her – unflattering – cotton underwear down a second later. She kicked them off, in the direction she thought Paul was.

"I'm going to injure you both. In the junk."

"No you aren't." Paul sounded like he was trying to hold back his laughter, and she knew it was his hand against her leg. "Lift this up a bit for me." Sam was steadying her as she did as told, leaning against him.

It took them a few minutes, but as suddenly as she had been naked, Leah was fully clothed again. The material was weird – had Paul put lace on her? God she was going to kill him – and the new bra was oddly squishy. Padded, instead of her regular sports one. The material they had pulled over her head, let settle across her body was silky. It felt cool to the touch, shifting with her as she shuffled from foot to foot, still unable to see.

Paul lifted her onto the counter after Sam had shoved her into a pair of nylons. She could feel them both struggling with her shoes.

"Okay, guys? Seriously, what the fuck?"

"Leah, just stop asking questions. We'll be back in a second. Sit, stay, and don't take off that blindfold." Paul flicked her in the nose, causing her to sneeze lightly.

"I'm not a fucking dog, Paul!"

"Yeah, yeah. Do as you're told." He swatted her lightly on the thigh, voice playful, and she really hadn't realized how many emotions a person could convey with their voice alone.

It didn't take them long to get changed at all. When they returned, she was asked to grab each of their arms so they could lead her outside. She wasn't used to either of them wearing clothes, let alone long sleeved shirts. Against her will, a small whine slid from her throat. She was confused.

Sam pressed his lips to her forehead, just above the blindfold. "It's okay Lee. We'll take it off soon."

"It'll be worth all this, trust me." Paul added, opening the front door.

She was led down the steps carefully, lifted into Sam's truck with the same carefulness. Settled between her two men, squished in the middle seat. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was nice to feel them on either side, to know that they were both there.

Also, she hated having to sit in the back seat.

She felt the truck rumble to life beneath them, and settled more easily in her seat. The familiar noises lulled her into a half asleep daze, head tilted back and eyes closed beneath the blind fold. Her breathing steadied out and, for the first time in a long time, Leah felt relaxed.

It ended entirely too soon. The truck slowed to a crawl, before finally stopping, and Leah had to wonder when Sam learned how to drive like a normal human being. "Hmm?" She mumbled, trying to drag her brain back to the present.

"It's alright, I got her." Paul was speaking to Sam, fully ignoring Leah. He opened his door, slid out. Reached back inside for her. She hated being carried – it always made her feel like a child – and she growled at him as he dragged her out, scooping her up bridal style. Man, he was really bad at that.

"Give me a second, Paul."

A rustle of fabric, and then she was being sat on the ground.

"Okay, Leah. You can take it off now."

She slid the blindfold off, blinking at the sudden brightness. "What…" Oh.

They were sitting in a small clearing overlooking the cliffs. A quick glance down told her she was wearing a low necked dress, dark blue. No heels, thankfully, only flats. Beneath her was one of their old comforters, the one they had stopped using thanks to all the threadbare patches. Leah looked at her lovers.

Both were wearing slacks and long sleeved, buttoned up, collared shirts. Her stomach twisted into a knot of want, of need, before Paul popped the cork from a small bottle of – she took a deep breath – yeah, strawberry wine. If the bottle was any indication, it was homemade, too.

"What is all this?" She asked, mentally cringing at the awe in her own voice.

Sam smiled, lightly, as he settled beside her, cross legged. He reached into a beaten up basket, pulled an old casserole dish from it. It was one of the giant Pyrex ones. Her nostrils flared, took in the smell. "Cheese tortellini." He explained, sliding the lid off and sniffing at the contents. "Kim made it for us."

Paul was handing her a glass of wine. "More for the flavor than anything." She didn't think strawberry wine was a pasta dish, but then again, silk dresses and ripped blankets weren't exactly a 'hand in hand' ordeal either.

"No, seriously…"

She was bombarded with kisses from either side, one boy to each cheek. She felt Paul's breath slide across her ear as he sighed, content.

"Happy anniversary Leah." Sam whispered.

Oh. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten.