A/N: So, this is a het fic. I feel like that should come as a warning nowadays. Anyway, oneshot with smut. This was going to be a longer fic as the end might sorta suggest, but I just lost interest after a while. I think I might have some sort of commitment problem or something because I can never finish a story I know might take a while to write. Anyway, began writing this a year or two ago, back when I first started watching SPN. Sometime around the end of Season 1 and the beginning of Season 2 but that don't man much because I got it all from netflix. Anyway, gonna shut up now and let you do what you came here to do. Read this and then tell me how absolutely awesome I am.

The place is some pub in some town that's as forgettable as the rest. Its caught somewhere between being a dive and a decent bar, starting to side a little more with dive. The tables are cleaner, the air not as stale though smoke is hanging throughout the room. It isn't illegal to smoke in here yet and the locals –and not so locals- are taking advantage in relaxed heavy puffs. She's used to it. A part of her even likes it. Yeah, everyone hates stale cigarette smoke, but the fresh stuff? Its addictive. It makes her think of sexy guys in leather jackets or cowboy hats and denim. Ones as good as the other. She inhales deeply of the smoke coming out of the ashtray next to her. She's a passive bystander smoker, what can she say? She'll never actually pick one up and take a drag because if her addiction to sugar is any indication, she has an addictive personality. So she sniffs at other people's stogies whenever she has the chance and knows that, yeah, its as bad as actually doing the act, but hey, she can delude herself its not.

"Can't find anything better to take a whiff of?" A sandpaper silk voice asks at her elbow and she turns to look up.

She's on a barstool and they're kinda tall and boost her up far higher than she usually goes when sitting, but she still has to look up because, hey, he's tall. Not overly, but not average. Trying not to be distracted she keeps her gaze moving to the face and wonders if maybe she should've stayed looking at that bod, because hell, she's gonna be staring. Slightly clefted chin hidden under a thin layer of stubble that matched the sandpaper in his voice, mouth –Jesus, god- pulled up in a smirk, beautiful cheek bones, dangerous smoldering eyes, perfect eyebrows, one arched with the smirk creating a crease just above his nose. His eyes were crinkled sexily and she thought he might wear that layer of stubble because that mouth would've made his face look pretty without it. He looked like a guy that didn't mind being handsome and drop dead gorgeous in that mouth watering male sort of way, but any hint of femininity would've pissed him off royally. He was smirking, all suggestively and arrogantly and hot as hell and he knew it. In other words, arrogant ass. She always did like them that way. A flaw in her character maybe.

She was staring. He knew. She knew it. She knew he knew it and was finding it hard to give a goddamn about it. "Got any suggestions?" She's surprised by herself, that she's even come back with a comeback. She doesn't slum around bars looking for guys. She's not the type, especially for one night stands. And this is what this guy screams. "Hey, baby, I'm bad and everything your mama told you to stay away from, but if you come with me I'll give you one hell of ride, but when morning comes I'll be gone." She never can quite understand why she's attracted to these types and because she's only attracted to these types is why she go's home alone every night. She doesn't do one night stands.

"I might." His smirk has turned into a suggestive grin as he leans against the bar, angling his body towards her. The guy sitting on the stool on the other side of her gets up and leaves with a huff. He's been trying to buy her beers –or whatever she might like, wink, wink- and she's been refusing.

Her eyebrow has gone into her hairline as she sips her beer and he watches. "Care to elaborate?" Her tone is playful and she doesn't know who she is. She doesn't lead guys on when nothing is going to happen. And nothing is going to happen. She's surprised that a guy like him is taking time to even talk to her. She's not gorgeous. And gorgeous goes with gorgeous, not nothing special.

The grin has gone a little dirtier. He likes how she's responding. "Maybe."

She bites her bottom lip to try and hide the smile. It doesn't work, but hey, she had to try. "Tease." She throws it out there along with her half smile. Before he can respond she nods to the empty space before him. "Whatcha drinking, stranger?"

He looks ruefully at his empty hand and signals the barkeep. "Beer, homegrown," he orders smoothly. He looks back at her. "Want another?"

She stares a moment at the near empty bottle. She shouldn't have two. She can't hold her alcohol for the life of her. She twirls it a bit between her fingers, debating. But hell, she wants another. She looks back at him and bites her lip again, giving that smile around it. "Sure."

He doesn't settle in the seat next to her and she knows that he isn't planning on staying, probably just long enough to get his drink and its an unspoken rule to buy a drink for the girl you happen to be flirting with. She just happens to be the only chick sitting at the bar so it was natural for him to step up next to her. He hasn't singled her out. She's just convenient.

"You a regular?" He asked while he waited.

She snorted. "Not particularly. Maybe once or twice."

"So you just stop in now and then to inhale other people's cigarettes?" Its all amused and teasing, smirk and eyebrow back at that angle he'd had when he'd first walked in.

She blushed a little and glued her eyes to her bottle. God, why did sexy men have to see her at her not so flattering times? "I'm a secondhand addict, what can I say?" She spares a glance from under her lashes and mop of curly hair.

He laughs and her eyes are fixated on his throat and mouth and she's thinking –fingers gripping those hard shoulders, lips and teeth and tongue latching on that delicious line of skin, eating her way up, licking her way around and into that mouth- yeah… thinking. Uh-huh.

Their beers arrive and she waits for him to leave, but he just settles in a little more and takes a swig. "You play pool?" He asks, nodding in the direction of the table in the corner.

She looks over her shoulder at it, sees the burly men playing. "Nah. At least not where's the chance of public humiliation," she responded, flipping her eyes back to him.

For some reason he makes this slow sexy smile before taking another drink. "Will you still be here if I go and wrangle some money out of the locals?" Its asked with a little head twitch that makes her smile.

"I don't know. You want me to stay?" She doesn't know what she's doing, being so brazen. She's never this forward with a guy, always pussyfooting around, all insecure and non wanting to put a guy on the spot. But with him she wanted –peeling that old and somehow sexy leather jacket from his body, shoving him back onto her bed, giving into that desire to run her open mouth along those rough cheeks, his hands- okay, explanation enough.

"I could think of worse things to look forward to." All smug maleness. Fuck. Not fair.

"Wow, geez, way to flatter a girl," she muttered sipping from her bottle.

He gave another one of those slow sexy grins as he pushed himself away from the bar. She expected him to just walk off, but he bent and put his mouth right next to her ear and a convulsive shiver ran through her body that he surely had to notice.

"How about this?" He whispered and she felt his smile as her fingers gripped the bar, another shiver running through her body. "I want to lay you out on the hood of my car." He breathed out soft on the thin sensitive skin behind her ear. "I'm gonna let you fill in the rest until I get back." Then he's stepping away and sauntering over to the biker dudes and riff-raff and she's left sagging in her chair, trying in vain to even out her breathing.

She knows she should get up and leave, now. She should pay for her drink, grab her purse, and make a fucking run for it. She's just seen the devil and she is so beyond tempted it ain't even funny. She's not religious, but she'll be such a fallen woman giving into that man's sin. But the thing is, she really likes that image of herself laid out on the hood of his car as he… oh god. She doesn't even know what kind of car he drives and she's turned on by it. What if he drives one of those indistinguishable silver sedans? She snorts. Not bloody likely. She turns in her stool to stare at the man across the room and wonders idly what car he might drive. He said car, so no bike. Might fit him and that huge male ego thing he's got going, but no. Jaguar? Another mental snort. A guy in biker boots, worn jeans, T-shirts and old leather jackets don't do Jaguars. Maybe she's being stereotypical, but she doesn't think so. Some other snazzy little sports car? No. Pickup truck? Possibly but doesn't fit good. Muscle car? Hmm.

He's smoozing his way around the table and she follows him with her eyes. She's discovered he has a great freaking butt and she'd had to jerk her eyes away from him bending over the table to take a shot. She'd never been a huge body person, like some women foamed over a guy's body, but she'd always been gaga about their faces. Well once she discovered that wasn't safe territory, because she wanted to eat it, she'd made her eyes look elsewhere. Now she was wondering if maybe his face might be the safest part of him, because she was getting more turned on watching his body as he played pool than she had by looking at his face. And what was she doing staring at his butt? She wasn't a butt person. She liked shoulders, from any angle. A guy with smooth rolling shoulders that she could envision her nails digging into as he… yeah. No part of this man was safe to think about. She should go, before he's done. Her butt is glued to the hard bar stool.

Its forever and not long enough when he comes away from the grumbling table, stuffing bills into his jacket, smug grin decorating that full perfect mouth. God, when did she start fantasizing about a guy's mouth? She can't ever remember fantasizing about any guy in any way. And now this? She can't seem to stop.

"Guess you wanna see that car," he rasps as he takes up his earlier position, ordering another beer.

She's blushing as she swivels to face him, faking nonchalance as she leans an elbow on the bar top that is just a little too high. Its so annoying to be short. And its really annoying when those damn curls fall in my face. She knows brushing them away will do no good 'cause all they do is fall back. I should invest in a straightener, I really should. "Depends."

He takes a drink from his new beer and his eyebrow is raised again in a questioning arch. "Yeah? On what?"

"On whether you're just using it to get me outside so you can have your way with me." Stupid. Of course he is. Shit. Wait.What makes you think he wants to jump your bones? He's hot. You're not. But we're in a bar, he's been flirting and buying drinks and practicallysaying he wants me naked. On his car. So shut up self deprecation, you're making me look stupid. Oh no, you do that just fine on your own. Bite me. Bite him. Yeah, okay.

He's grinning into his bottle as he stares at her. "That's exactly what I was doing. Interested?"

Eyebrow quirk again, sexy crinkles in brow and around eyes. Hell yes. Take me now. She wasn't sure which "take me" she meant. Both? "My mama always taught me not to go with strangers."

He put his beer down. "Dean."

Huh, no last name. Okay. "Casey." She held out her hand because he hadn't done so. He took it, but instead of shaking it, lifted it to his mouth. Instead of kissing it, he drew the tip of her index finger into his mouth and sucked. Her breath caught as that zing traveled straight to…. Yep, he was the devil and she was awash in sin. Images of angels falling from heaven into fiery pits ruled by the man in front of her filled her mind. Looks like heaven to me. Okay, so she was suddenly horny. She'd been just fine when she came in, content with a beer and smoke inhalation, but then he'd come in and her thoughts had leaped happily into the gutter. Her body had been hanging on gleefully. "Where's that car?" She husked out.

She knew she shouldn't have used that tone or those words when his ego spread out a bit more and the smug grin spread around the finger he still held in his mouth. Thankfully –or not- he pulled his mouth away from her flesh, but held onto her hand as he threw some bills on the bar and pulled her off her stool, leading her from the bar. For some reason she felt an itch between her shoulder blades, like the feeling you have when you think some one is going to throw something at you, so she cast a glance over her shoulder. The entire female population within was glaring daggers into her back and she could just read their thoughts. What's that bitch got that I don't? She's not even that pretty. My boobs are bigger than hers. He just doesn't know quality when its sitting in front of him. She grinned smugly at them as she turned back to the man holding her hand. The daggers were still glaring into her back so she flounced a little closer to him to emphasize her ownership. Yeah, it was childish and a little bitch-like, but hey, the hottest guy in town had just asked her to go out with him so she deserved to be able to revel in a little female pride, right?

The near midnight air was a little cool, the breeze a little too sharp to be comfortable as they stepped out into the parking lot. She stopped to take a deep cleansing breath, the cool air sweeping her lungs and mind clean of the muggy heat and smell of the pub.

"I thought you liked your second hand smoke." It's a laughing statement as he's stopped beside her.

She sends him a dirty look from under her layers of hair. "I said I'm a secondhand addict, not that I liked it. Its positively unhealthy."

His hands are stuffed into his jacket as he steps closer to her, in front of her, amusement playing all over that kissable –lickable- face. "Yeah?" It's a low growl from deep in his chest. "Got any other addictions to things that aren't healthy?"

Its kinda lame, but she hasn't, can't, take her eyes off him as she stares up –with my hair I might make it up to his breastbone. Maybe- and its hard to breathe. "Yeah, I think I might." Her voice is thick and something else she hasn't ever heard there before. Lust?

He grins and she almost expects a kiss, but he takes her hand again and leads her further into the lot. And those words kinda hit her. Okay. So I'm following Dean No-Last-Name into deserted parking lot without a question and I've known him for all of an hour. Great. Smart. Way to go there, Miss Responsibility. He could be a serial killer. Or sociopath. Serial killers are sociopaths, right? Shit. Don't become distracted. He could be a rapist. Fat chance of needing to do that. He probably has trouble keeping the females off him, not getting them. Murderer? Kinky S&M weirdo? She looked him over nervously. He didn't seem the type. Okay, maybe he'd go for some light bondage, but the rest? Nah. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.

Suddenly she bumped into the solid wall of him and she yelped, grabbing onto his arm for purchase. Before she could let out an indignant insult he spoke.

"Here's my baby."

What…? She peeked around his shoulder and found a slow grin spreading across her face. Oh, she should have known. Long black gleaming body, chrome highlights, build screaming I'm a classic! She didn't know cars, but she recognized when one was old enough to be in the classic range and this one was there. And it suited him.

"Approve?"

She laughed and stepped out from behind him to run her hand across the hood. "Its you."

He smiled and stepped closer and suddenly she was trapped between the front bumper and him. Breath and thought fled together, hand in hand, going on their merry way as his gaze captured hers. Distantly she felt his hands settle on her hips because what she had to focus on was his face dipped closer to hers. And suddenly she's thinking that she's never kissed a guy on their first date, let alone the first day they've met. Hell, they haven't even known each other for a day, just an hour, maybe a little more or a little less. Doesn't really matter. She doesn't do this sort of thing. Its not her style. She's about commitment and longevity not slam bam thank you ma'am. But here she is, backs of her thighs pressed into the cool metal of his car, and pressing into the front of her is, well, him. They're practically glued together, his head dropping to hers as she stares up at him, all wide eyed and breathless and not moving away. She tells herself she should, that she shouldn't be doing this, that there's going to be so many bad consequences if she lets him kiss her. And the only coherent thought she can come up with is please, God, just kiss me already. Then his mouth is over hers and she melts, melts for Christ's sake, into him, fingers clutching desperately to the lapels of his jacket, the worn leather smooth and silky beneath her hands.

He's all suave and smooth as his mouth moves over hers and she's clumsy and hesitant. She feels like she's fifteen again, experiencing her first kiss with a senior. He'd dumped her minutes after that first kiss because she'd refused to go all the way. Now she wondered if he'd do the same because she wasn't that good. Then she was lost because he opened his mouth, brushing his tongue against the seam of her lips. She gasped and he took advantage to slip inside and render her helpless. He tasted of that heavenly sin she's been thinking about since he stepped through that bar door. Beer and smoke and man. She's knows its silly to identify a taste as man, but its just such a masculine thing she doesn't have another name. And hell they're her thoughts and no one else's so she can think what she wants. If she can even think anymore.

The hands gripping her hips lift and set her on the hood of the car and he's stepping between her legs, still holding that mind-bending kiss. Her hands flow higher to grasp each other around his neck, painting her a little more onto him. He doesn't seem to mind, his own hands lifting from her hips to tangle in her hair, mouth delving deeper into hers, impatiently stroking away all her inhibitions until she's certain he could take her on the hood of this car, right now.

He pulls away and she clings, mouth hungering upwards to close over his chin, trying to kiss her way back to his mouth and that sweet oblivion. He pulls back more though and she's left gasping wantonly.

"You got someplace we can go?" It's a low rumble that shakes throughout her because they're still pressed tight.

She takes a moment to let her mind clear, focusing on that gorgeous, lust inducing face. She thought he might be smug and smirking, but he wasn't, breath as uneven as hers, lids half dropped. She can't make herself believe he's as far gone as she is. "What, you're not into exhibitionism and public voyeurism?"

He smiles, small and sexy. "I guess we could." He brushed his mouth across hers lightly, pulling away when she pressed forward. "But I was thinking about making this last all night." It was said in a husky whisper that he breathed across her lips.

Any thought, rational or otherwise, jumped happily out of her mind with a cheerful wave as she was consumed by images of them in her bed. But she must have had enough sense left to make some sort of noise or movement of agreement, because he lifted her off the hood and guided her into the car, sinking her into its dark sinful depths. She's in a fog as he climbs in after her, gunning the engine as she tells him where her apartment is. She's plastered against the passenger side door because she really doesn't have a clue what she's doing and she knows touching him is a bad thing. He's watching her with an evil grin, all relaxed and rugged as he drives, making her think of mountain lions and timid little fawns. She's the fawn, he's the mountain lion 'cause that smiles predatory and she feels hunted. Sort of afraid but wanting to walk into that hungry maw anyway.

Then they're at her place and she's fumbling with her keys and it doesn't help when he steps up close behind her, pressing his body into hers, hand slipping underneath her shirt to smooth over the side of her waist. She's shaking and gasping, clinging close to the door, trying to get away from him so she can concentrate enough to get the goddamn key in the freaking lock. Finally it slides in and clicks and they're stumbling through at the suddenness. Before she has time to right herself he's spinning her and pressing her into the door, mouth covering hers again. Her hands are inside his jacket, bunching his T-shirt in neediness. His thigh is pressed between hers, hard, and his hands are gripping her buttocks, lifting her a little for better access. Is this how its going to end? Pressed against a door, still fully dressed as he takes her? The thought is disconcerting enough to clear her mind somewhat and she pushes him away. He doesn't resist, letting her go so she can take shaky steps toward the little kitchenette. He follows silently behind, moving smoothly bringing sharply back to her mind the image of a stalking lion. All tawny and rough and male. Yeah, great line of thought when trying to clear your head. She was a smart one, wasn't she?

"You okay?" The words are surprisingly kind, no hint of anger or resentment for pushing him away.

She was standing in front of the sink, arms braced on either side, shaking. From lust or fear of how far she'd gone she didn't know. She bit her lip, feeling like a fool. How could she have done this? How could she have let it get this far? She didn't do this! Now what was she supposed to do? She had, if what she had felt pressing against her while they were plastered to her door, a very horny attractive man in her apartment and she was having second thoughts. Wait, she hadn't even had first thoughts.

"Casey?" His hand was on her shoulder, rubbing soothingly, not sexually. Maybe he wasn't that arrogant ass he seemed.

"I don't do this sort of thing," she blurted, turning to face him, immediately blushing when he raised his brows. "I mean, I've been with guys before, but not… not like this…. Not this fast."

"You want me to leave?"

He's still standing close, but he's not trying to seduce. He wants to let her make her own decision. Shit, he's a gentleman. Why can't he be an ass? It would make things oh so much easier. As it was, she didn't know what she wanted. The angel and devil on her shoulders were in a ferocious battle somewhere and so not helping. "I don't know."

She was staring down the linoleum, biting her lip, that bunch of curly chestnut and honey hair hiding her face. She was short and small and several ways of adorable. She wasn't the usual type he found in bars and not the usual type he picked up on and if he did, they usually told him to go to hell. He'd been surprised when she'd responded, surprised that she'd waited for him, and shocked when she let him take her back to her apartment. Now it looked like she was all of those things to herself.

"I won't pressure you," he told her gently.

She looked up at him and her look was grumpy. "I know. That's what's making it so difficult. If you were an ass I could kick you out and feel perfectly okay with myself."

"Yeah? Why don't you anyway?"

"Because I'm split between wanting you and thinking that it's wrong."

He was trying to repress a grin. "But you want me either way?" It was light and amused.

She scowled at him. "Maybe I can kick you out," she muttered. But she was biting her lower lip and giving him that smile around it.

He moved a little closer, bodies brushing. "What if I kiss you now and you decide what you want?" His voice had lowered back to that low rumble that had her nerves jerking.

"Okay." She gripped the counter behind her as he dropped his mouth to hers, just leaning forward and seducing her slowly, lips and tongue stroking her into oblivion. And then he was pulling away and she was sagging back.

"What about now?" His tone was all smug at her obvious reaction.

She looked up at him. "I'm swayed. But I think I need convincing." She quirked her brows at him.

He chuckled then suddenly swept her into his arms and carted her towards her bedroom. "I need room to show my abilities of persuasion," he told her questioning look.

In the bedroom he placed her on her bed, flicking the lamp on before he covered her body with his own. She gasped, feeling the full length of him spread over her, fingers tangling in his short spiky hair, holding his mouth to hers. He didn't seem to object, braced above her and taking his sweet time in convincing her. She was the one that grew impatient, shoving and arguing with his jacket and him until it was off, lying somewhere on the floor. She was free now to touch him and she took full advantage, running her hands up and down his rib cage, across his bare forearms, digging into his shoulders, bunching and rolling beneath her inquisitive probing.

She was tugging at his shirt when he pulled away, she moaning her disagreement. "Hey."

She opened bleary eyes, feeling his hand brush her hair off her cheek. "What?"

He smirked. "You want me to leave?"

"You've got to be kidding me," she growled in frustration. His smirk just deepened. She made another irritated noise and grabbed for him, but he slithered out of her grasp to sit on the edge of the bed. "Dean?" Suddenly she was hesitant and wondering if he wanted to continue this.

He looked over his shoulder to where she lay in the middle of the bed and smirked as his boot hit the floor. She cocked her head at the noise, blushing and smiling as she realized what it was. A moment later the other followed and then he was working on hers. They thunked onto the floor next to his. Then she was sitting up and crawling to where he sat, kneeling in front of him on the bed. Their lips met again, mouths sliding open easily in familiarity now, no longer questing and questioning. Her fingers found the edge of his shirt again and together they pulled it hurriedly over his head and off his arms, resettling into the kiss once it was gone. The kiss was broken again when he pulled her shirt off.

Then his back was hitting the pillows and she was straddling him, hips dancing just above where his arched. She grinned at the dirty look he sent her as she continued to hold herself just out of reach. Kept grinning as she held herself braced above him with one hand on his chest, the other feeling its way across his abdomen. That is until his surprisingly nimble fingers managed to undo the clasp of her bra and pull it swiftly from her body.

With a nimble buck of his hips she was beneath him and it was his turn to tease, mouth closing over her breast. She couldn't help the small short scream of pleasure, nor her arching body just begging –no screw that. Begging on torn bloody knees with hands clasped in prayer- for him to do more. He let go and she could feel his grin on the side of her breast, stubble scraping in mind bending roughness, contrasted by the soft pressure of his mouth. So no, she didn't feel embarrassed by her body's knee-jerk reaction. But he was taking too much enjoyment from it. She heaved against him, surprised when he rolled onto his back and she landed on his chest. She met his mouth again hungrily, an open gasping thing. Blunt fingers scraped down the line of her spine, teeth catching her lower lip. Need scrabbling under her skin she tore away, biting into his shoulder. He groaned, the first sound of desire she'd heard him make. The rush of heat at it was almost as satisfying as the feel of the hand closing over her breast. She wanted to hear it again.

She straddled his waist, hands resting on his chest, bracing her above him. His eyes flicked down her body, between her arms and he gave a small dirty grin. She felt herself flush –how did you flush when you were on fire?- at his obvious approval. "Like what you see?" She taunted breathlessly. Who the hell was she?

The grin deepened, unlatching a hand from her hips to smooth a callused thumb over a nipple. She gasped, head flung back, rocking her hips against him. "A little lower, sweetheart," he panted.

She lowered her head slowly, knowing grin spreading. She had the satisfaction to see his amusement turn to something else at her feral look. She leant forward and nipped at his chin, maneuvering away when he made to make it a kiss. She nipped and licked her way down his throat, quick pecks and long glides, feeling the way his body rolled underneath hers, the clipped breaths. Brushed her hips lightly across his. He groaned, bucking upwards, but she lifted herself up and out of his reach, closed her mouth over his nipple.

"Tease," he grated out.

She grinned up his body, deliberately ground herself against him. His eyes went dark, fingers digging deep into the skin of her hips as he flipped her on her back, body covering hers. Pressed himself hard between her legs and she threw her head back, mouth open in a silent moan. His mouth attacked the vulnerable line of her throat, scraping with teeth and soothing with tongue, both driving her mad. She clung to his bare skin, shivering as he slid under her hands. Fused her mouth to his when she could catch him.

Somewhere along the line she realized they'd lost the rest of their clothes, she didn't know when. She simply became aware at a moment of his warm body sliding against hers, her legs wrapped around his naked hips. Groaned long and deep when he gripped her thigh, nipping at a spot just below her breast. Cried out when his body merged with hers and began setting a slow, mind melting rhythm.

"Like that, baby?" He whispered when he thrust deep.

She had enough sense to wonder how he had the ability to talk, fingers gripping his rolling shoulder blades. "Yeah," she breathed, moaning when he brushed his thumb over her nipple. She had to wonder how she could even feel that when he was inside of her, blanketing out every other sense. She wanted to do the same to him, mark him in some way that would last beyond this night. Curled her legs tight around his hips, caught on to his movement and matched herself with him. Caught his mouth in a barely-there kiss, lips brushing, sharing ragged breath. Calling out his name and jerking when her completion came, his eyes the only thing she could see through it all.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

"When do you have to go?"

The bedside lamp is still on and he's lying face down on the bed, she sprawled half atop him. "Hmm?" It's a sleepy murmur told into the pillows he's hugging.

She bites her lip as she rubs her cheek against a shoulder blade. She doesn't want to have to ask again. It took her half an hour to work up the courage the first time. "When are you leaving?"

This time he stiffens. "Want me gone that bad, baby?" The tone is light and teasing, but its arguing with the uncomfortable stillness his body has acquired.

She sighed softly into his golden skin. "Dean…." She paused, gathered her courage. "We both know you never intended for this to be more than a night."

He swallows and she watches the way the bob in his throat moves. "Yeah." He lifts his head a little to look at her through one eye. "I would like it if I could change my mind." The grin he sent her was amused, but there was something else too, something she didn't know how to identify.

His words surprise her and she wonders if they're all part of the game. "Why don't you?" She held her breath, wondering what his answer might be.

Solemnity settled over his features. "I'm… I'm kinda working with my dad and our… our job keeps us on the move." He swallowed again. "We don't stay in one place for more than a couple of days."

She smiled sadly into his skin. "You sound like con artists," she jested easily.

He smiled too. "Yeah. We do, don't we?"

Her fingers were trailing lazily up and down his arm. "You don't want to tell me what you do, do you?"

He shifted, their warm bodies sliding together. "I don't kill people and I don't steal," he supplied off-handedly.

She grinned. "Oh, goody. So there won't be any mob bosses knocking at my door and threatening to use me as leverage against you then?"

He chuckled. "No. None of that."

"Okay." She snuggled back into his shoulder. Another thought occurred to her and she popped up again. "You're not a traveling salesman are you?" She asked worriedly.

He laughed.

She grinned. "Yeah, you're right. Nobody would buy anything from as dishonest a face as yours." She bit her lip when he quirked an eyebrow at her. "Then again, if you only went to women…." She let the thought trail away and he laughed, finally rolling over underneath her so she was lying on his chest.

"Can I sell you anything, ma'am?" It was all dirty suggestiveness somehow said in a salesmen tone.

She laughed in the back of her throat and saw his eyes darken. "You?" She said hopefully.

"I don't know, ma'am. Are you sure you can afford me? I mean, I'm quality…."

She cut him off with a kiss because she was sure whatever he was going to say would make her blush. He responded readily, encouraging her into more.

Afterwards, snuggled into him, they fell asleep. When she wakes late the next morning he's gone and despite the fact she knew this was going to happen she feels disappointed. He'd been like no other man she'd ever known before and not just the way he was in bed or his rugged good looks. He'd been… different. Just something else above normal that stuck with her. She thought maybe she was deluding herself, her way of justifying having a one night stand. Then while she's changing the sheets she lifts a pillow and there's a piece of paper folded over. Curious, she picks it up, sitting on the edge of the bed. Flipping it open she sees one small line written in pencil. There's other marks on the paper, eraser marks, alluding to what he's written then rubbed out before settling on what he says.

Good-bye, Curly-Cue.

Dean

It makes her smile and her heart does this odd little somersault. And she can't understand how its raining inside when drops of water fall onto the little piece of paper.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

One month later she's sitting on her bathroom floor wedged between the toilet and the tub like she's trying to hide from the news she's waiting to materialize in her fingers. She doesn't think its fair that little blue lines get to decide how your life will turn out. One and everything gets to go on like nothing ever happened. Two and everything's changed, her whole reason for being, for living taking an about face faster than she walked out that bar door with that man. She doesn't know if she'll be happy if its positive or negative for that matter. She hasn't been able to get him out of her mind, that night replaying in her dreams. She's come to face the fact that she's in love with him, or at least the image he gave her. It might not be the real him. She doesn't care. She ignores the looks people cast her, all condemning and snooty, looking down their noses at her. She knows they will do it more if she is pregnant. There goes another single mom, another woman who couldn't keep her pants on, another one who can't be responsible and now look at her. She knows she probably wont give a damn. She can't regret that night even if she is pregnant. Especially if she's pregnant. She's always wanted children. Yeah, she wished she had a man in her life to help, but she won't regret a child.

But she's getting ahead of herself, chasing thoughts around that she's already chased since she found out she missed her period. She's still staring at the little stick in her hand, waiting for the answer to pop up. She wonders if he'd stayed what he'd do if she was pregnant. Would he stick around or make a run for it? She couldn't read him, can't figure out what he might do. She wished she'd found out his last name because if she is pregnant she wants him to know. She doesn't care that he might be one of those men that doesn't want anything to do with their children. She just wishes he could know.

After an eternity the results materialized and she let her head fall into her hands as her shoulder shook.

There, you've read and conquered. Congrats, you've survived a story of mine. That means you're totally made of awesome. If you want more praise though you're gonna have to hit that little review button and write something in the box. I'm not picky about what you put in there, so long as its something.

Peace