As far as Rebecca was concerned, anyone surprised by their wife's ex-lover and best friend while being orally pleasured by said wife in the hallway had nothing to excuse herself for. She'd gotten a right shock on top of her existing stress, and felt that she well deserve the drinks, even if she did mildly regret them. Setting down the bottle on the counter, she walked to the fridge, fetching a bottle of water for her guest. Leanna's blitzkrieg chatter and sudden departure left the younger woman stunned for a few moments, then contemplating lynching her wife, even if Leanna would probably only get turned on by the sight of a noose. "Was she always like that?" She found herself asking Amanda, a mildly exasperated expression etched onto her features. The pair of them had never been alone before, that was mildly unnerving.<br/><br/>It would have been easier if Amanda was ugly, or even just a man, then all the other feelings that were mixed up between the pair of them wouldn't be complicated by the fact that the older woman was so goddamned sexy. She wondered what might have happened if things had gone differently, if she'd run into Amanda and it had been Leanna that had been left behind at that club. Not a thought she entertained long, her life had turned out better than she'd ever dreamed and she never took her good fortune for granted. "I never got into the medieval business. Some of 'em think they're that Bathory one, all chains and spikes. I don't mind slapping a nice arse, but I don't want to turn one to mincemeat." Well, at the end of the day, they only had two things in common, Leanna and a tendency to be on one side or another of a spanking.<br/><br/>She would have been happier if she hadn't been the one left with Amanda, but she certainly didn't fancy leaving the other pair alone either. The way Leanna looked at the woman made it clear that the old love hadn't faded nearly as much as she migh have hoped, and the mere thought had her heart up in her neck. It didn't help that what she and Leanna had started hadn't been finished, interrupted pleasure was worse than no pleasure at all. Opening the doorway, she strode down along the stairs, idly fixing her skirt and shirt, balancing her drink in her other hand. She didn't really want it, but it felt a bit better to be holding something. The Dungeon looked strange, if only because of all the things that were conspicuously absent, though the hooks, bolts and clasps on the walls were a dead giveaway of some of the less innocent things that went on down there. She went to the couch, curling her legs under her, putting the glass down on the floor.<br/><br/>