Can't Get Enough

by Bre

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or parts of this storyline. They belong to the brains of The Whedon and The Kripke. Song lyrics are also not mine.
Rating: M/FR21
Feedback: Always appreciated! :)
Author's Notes: See "Damn Damned" for additional notes on this smutty series of ficlets.
Author's Notes 2: Thank you for the reviews!
Author's Notes 3: Song that inspired this ficlet is "I Was Made For Lovin' You" by Kiss - goddamn song keeps coming up on my Spotify radio and it's just perfect - the beat, the words and the fact that it's Kiss…

Author's Notes 4: For the sake of this story, Buffy was just a Potential, never called in L.A. and never made it to Sunnydale. She lives with her Watcher, Merrick, and works at Harvelle's as a waitress. Set somewhere in SPN S2.

Prompt: 009 Cemetery

Summary: Sequel to Story #1 Damn Damned. Dean keeps his word about not telling Buffy when he's coming back to town…


Buffy Anne Summers was digging.

She had been digging for at least two hours and she was getting to a stage of dirty and sweaty that was beyond the normal stages of dirty and sweaty. This was an 'I rolled around in super glue, took a running dive into some mud and dried it all off with grave dirt' dirty.

But she would rather be doing this any day of the week over serving alcohol to grabby hunters who didn't know that fuck no actually means no. It was crappy that twenty percent of the hunters who frequented Harvelle's were pieces of crap - they severely outweighed the other eighty percent who were cool and even-keeled and understood she was just doing her job. This twenty percent usually consisted of the younger hunters, the cocky ones; mostly the ones fronting about the shit lives they led. The ones who didn't have a world of wisdom on their shoulders along with their trunk full of emotional problems. No, the only thing they had in public was a glorified set of tales and loud mouths with open palms.

And she sure didn't have the weight of being Bill's daughter hanging over her shoulder like a morbid guardian angel like Jo had. Nor did she have any such aura of belonging to anyone in any way shape or form.

She was just waitress meat.

"Not bitter," she mumbled to herself, digging harder. She should be grateful she had a job where she could be herself and all that crap…

But this stuff? This stuff she was good at. Creeping around graveyards at night, digging up ancient graves, rummaging through crypts, doing weird errands for Bobby Singer - hell, she had literally jumped right out of her apron at the mention of recon work.

It was like that potential Slayer drive that lived in all Potentials thrummed a little hotter in her blood than most - despite the fact that she was about ten years past her Slayer prime. She just felt better out here.

A sharp metallic twang shot through the night as her shovel slammed into wood.

"About time," she breathed, giving the coffin a few more shots, clearing the dirt off. Tossing the shovel out of the hole, she wiped her hands on her bare thighs, reeling her leg back and slamming her steel-toed boot into the rotting wood.

After a few more hits, she felt the ground shifting before a large groan built up and the coffin's wooden walls collapsed. Gripping the dirt walls, Buffy kept her balance before falling to her haunches, shoving the broken pieces of wood out of her way.

"Alright, let's see what you've got hiding with you, Patrice."

Maybe it was because she had been digging graves like this for years, so many years that she had lost count; maybe it was the Potential Slayer bit floating around inside her; maybe it was because she had become so integrated into the hunting life or maybe it was because her parents had disappeared without a trace before she ditched California …

Who the hell really knew where the respect for the dead bit went or the morality of it all but she had no damn problem shoving her hand into the coffin and straight into Patrice's moldy skeletal head.

"Sorry, old man. Nothing personal, I swear," she said, breaking off more pieces of the coffin. Grabbing the flashlight from her back pocket, she shined it down on the skeleton; the rotted clothes were practically dust under her fingertips. Where the light shone, she watched hoards of little creepy crawlies scurry away as she searched.

Nothing but moldy cushions and dead guy along with some dead bugs that hadn't been able to escape Patrice's delicious dead flesh greeted her for a moment before something shiny caught her eye. She grinned. "Gotcha."

A tiny bronze amulet had fallen to the side, the long chain placing it at Patrice's hip. Trying to be ginger but not willing to be patient, she shoved a hip bone out of the way and felt the cool metal against her grimy fingers.

Unwinding the chain, Buffy held it up, shining her light on it. Her eyes had a glow to them as she stared at it, the shimmer of the rare purple gem set in the center, the Greek letters carved around it winking back at her.

Antouja's Gem… a conduit between the demon plane J'arjk and this one; deadly… and, "Shiny." A smile of self-satisfaction graced her lips.

Buffy looped the chain a few times before slipping it over her neck. The amulet fell against her thin tank top and she shoved it inside. The cold metal bit into her bare chest.

Standing, Buffy pushed her flashlight into the back pocket of her shorts again. The darkness that followed was shocking as she waited for her eyes to readjust to the poor night light. She looked up at the tall walls surrounding her and frowned. "Damn, digging up graves is so not a short person's job... Well…"

Gripping a hunk of dirt, Buffy started pulling herself up out of the grave she had dug. "It's been fun, Patrice, but I've gotta..." She grunted with the effort of the crumbling dirt holding her weight as she climbed. "Bugger outta here before that pesky sun rises and all sorts of people start asking questions."

The cool green grass felt amazing against her palms as she heaved herself up and out. A dry wind blew in and she paused at the mouth of the grave, feeling a little tingle in her lower back. The one she usually got when she was being watched.

But there was nothing and no one.

Pulling herself out the rest of the way, Buffy tossed the flashlight back into her bag before stretching her back, letting her head fall back to stare at the night sky. Not a cloud to be seen and a barely out of its new phase moon hanging about as just a tiny sliver. So peaceful and calm out here.

Another plus to this gig? No unnatural light - everything was so much clearer and prettier out here in the ass-middle of nowhere. Although maybe a little more unnatural light would be nice so she could see what she was doing but that was a small price to pay. Hell, how many people actually visited this shitty little cemetery anyway? Everything had the feeling of abandonment about it since the last burial here happened well over two hundred years ago.

Buffy grabbed the shovel and shifted it between her hands to find the right grip.

"It was nice to meet you, Mr. Pridekka," Buffy said, scooping up a large chunk of dirt and tossing it back into the open grave. It landed on the skeleton's face. She repeated the action as she talked, "You are an example of how strange people are wanting things buried with them. Things that other people could use. Valuable things. Things that could even save people's lives. But no, gotta have that special little hunk of metal with us at all times, don't we, Patrice? Can you explain that to me? I mean, I get the 'it's yours' thing but-"

Buffy heard the shift of the wet grass behind her before the large shadow even appeared at her back. Every nerve in her body shot to life and she acted on instinct, dropping to her knees and twisting the shovel around so it knocked whoever the hell it was off their feet.

She didn't wait for them to land or for their breathe to get knocked out before she dove for her bag. She heard her shovel falling back into the grave, the loud clang of metal on wood shattering the quiet of the night.

She went for the knife she kept stashed but whoever was behind her was quicker than she anticipated and she felt a hand grab her ankle and tug her back. Buffy growled as she twisted around, pulling her leg up to shove it into their face when the person clamped their other hand on her thigh in an attempt to pacify her.

Buffy didn't take a second to wonder who it was that was attacking her in the middle of freaking nowhere, at her own dig site. She didn't care because as far as she was concerned? Creeping around a graveyard and not announcing yourself automatically went down in the 'Not a Good Guy' category.

Using a move that Merrick had taught her, Buffy shifted her body. The hands lost their grip as the stranger grunted and she rolled away, leaping to her feet. She heard the peculiar sound of leather as her opponent stood as well but she didn't pause. Everything happened in a matter of seconds as she moved in and shot her fist into their face.

It connected soundly and where a normal person would have fallen, this person spun with the hit and attacked her back. Using a forearm to block one solid punch, she felt their other fist come down and land a hit on her side and she gasped at the shooting pain.

Okay, seriously, what the hell? Did Patrice have a grave bodyguard friend she didn't know about?

Dropping down, she swung her foot out and swept them off their feet. She turned to grab her bag for a weapon.

She needed advantage, she needed a stronghold... she needed a flashlight to see what the hell was attacking her is what she damn well needed.

But that hand was back and they anticipated her move this time. The hand gripped her ankle and tugged on her hard, dragging her across the ground. She felt the dirt crawling up the inside of her shirt as the person used their bulk to turn her around and pin her to the ground, shoving her arms above her head.

"Easy there, princess, don't want you to break a nail."

Buffy's struggles stopped dead cold and she tensed up as she blinked against the adrenaline roaring through her blood, trying to fight the inky darkness to see if it really was this stupid dickhead.

"Jesus Christ, Dean," Buffy bit out, rolling her shoulders and surging her body to kick him off but he didn't budge. Instead, he used her actions against her and spread her legs, situating his hips between her thighs, pushing her deeper into the cool grass. She felt the hardness in his jeans pressing against her juncture and it pissed her off more. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Well, I was gonna say hi before that fist of yours got too cuddly with my face," he drawled from on top of her and she could just imagine that shit-eating grin on his face. Which only fueled the fire.

"Get the hell off of me," Buffy snapped, scissoring her legs and trying to twist him but he only tightened his hold, pulling his knees up as leverage to keep her still. The exhilaration of his suddenly being there, of his seeking her out to see her could have easily been front and center. But instead of announcing his presence and saying hello like a gentleman, he had snuck up on her, freaking the absolute hell out of her. "Get off."

"If that's what you're offering," Dean said, his voice laced with amusement as he wrapped one hand around her wrists to keep them above her head while the other moved down her body. Her evil body reacted, her skin tingling where his hand touched, the sensation racing through her body and staking her right in her center. A rush of warmth hit as she felt every inch of his weight on her, holding her down, free for him to do whatever he wanted...

Hell. No.

Dean had to realize that he couldn't just ride into town, ride her for a few hours and ride back out. She wasn't a fucking slot 'wham bam, thank you, ma'am' machine.

Buffy didn't bother responding to him. Instead, she gritted her teeth before she slammed her forehead against the bridge of his nose.

"What the-" His grip slackened enough for her to wiggle her arms free and as he moved to cover his face, she moved with him, twisting her legs to kick him off of her. "Son of a bitch!"

"That's what you get for-"

Her triumph didn't last long as Buffy rolled away while simultaneously pushing him off of her and instead of solid ground she fell straight into the open grave. A short cry fell from her lips before her back slammed against the bottom half of the coffin, dirt and grass raining down on her from above as the wood creaked from the sudden additional weight. Spitting dirt from her mouth, she felt the damn thing shifting again and she rolled to her feet, leaning against the dirt wall, breathing heavily.

Her limbs were shaking from the sharp pain emanating off her back but she could already feel it starting to dissipate as she paused, letting her body catch up. She heard Dean above her moving around before she saw the shadow of his head pop over the side, more dirt falling. She winced, glaring up at him.

"Smooth," was all he said and Buffy threw him the finger, biting out, "Fuck off."

"Whoa there," he continued, angling his head to get a better view of her. "I'm not the one who rolled you into an open grave."

"What the hell were you even doing, dumbass?" Buffy responded, stepping back from the wall when she spotted her shovel.

"I came to say hi."

"Ha. Right. Hi," Buffy said, picking up her grave digging implement. She shifted it in her hands again, glancing up as Dean got to his feet. She could vaguely see him in the dark touching his face and she threw the shovel up and out. The long hard handle hit him right in the shin. He let out a sharp cry and she smirked. "You are an idiot."

"Goddamn it!" he growled, leaning over to rub his new bruise as Buffy grabbed a hunk of dirt and started pulling herself from the grave. Again. "What the hell was that for?"

"What do you think?" Buffy growled, blowing a piece of hair from her face as she climbed out. "You aren't that blonde."

"Jesus Christ," he said, his voice sounding far away when his hand suddenly appeared over hers just as she reached the top. She was about to tell him to screw off again when he gripped her forearm and tugged. "What crawled up your ass and died?"

"You," she snapped back as he pulled her. Buffy used the leverage to stick her boots in the dirt to help as he finally pulled her clear and straight into his arms. Buffy palmed his chest and shoved. "Get off of me."

"Hell no," Dean said, wrapping his arms around. "I've gotta protect my pretty face somehow."

"Dean, I'm not in the goddamn mood," Buffy replied, lifting her boot to connect with where she had hit him with the shovel. Letting out a yelp, Dean's arms immediately dropped and Buffy stepped back, grabbing the flashlight from her bag. Whipping it on, she stuck it right into his face. He winced at the harsh light change and she smiled at the damage. "You look like crap."

"Right back at you, sweetheart," he said with a wink. Buffy moved to grab the shovel, ready to both throw the dirt back into the grave and ready to shove it up his ass if he came near her again when he moved. How he got so quick

and smooth she could never say, but suddenly he grabbed the flashlight from her hands, tossing it to the ground. His name was on her lips when she felt his hands circling her waist, shoving her up against his chest as his lips captured hers.

A fire ignited in her veins, a violent mixture of aggravated anger and instant lust. She felt it burning hot where he touched her as his lips mauled hers and she returned the favor. She didn't want to want this stupid moron as much as she did. She didn't want to turn into a pile of goo whenever he came near her and she sure as hell didn't want to just spread her legs for him just because he said 'go.'

Buffy's kisses turned harsh, her lips mashing against his. They collided painfully and she kissed him harder, her arms wrapping around his neck, her nails digging into his flesh. He moaned into her mouth, pulling her tighter. A hot gush welled between her legs when she felt one of his hands fall down her back and to her ass. He gripped her so tight it stung as he pulled her up against him, thrusting his hips forward as she wound a leg around his, holding him just as tightly.

They were both dirty as hell and bruised but neither cared. It made everything hotter, more delicious as Dean took a step forward. She felt him swinging his arm around as he tried to find something solid; one of his boots hit her bag and he stumbled into a gravestone. The sharp edge of the granite bit into Buffy's back as he shoved her against it and she arched her body, rubbing her chest against his before fisting her hand in his hair. She tugged, ripping his lips from hers and he let out a strangled gasp.

His breath was hot against her face as Buffy sucked in air, pulling his head back harder to expose his neck. Tugging him closer, her lips found his jugular. She instantly sucked on the gentle skin there, tugging it between her teeth and nipping at him. He said her name in a sharp gasp, his hips thrusting against hers and then she sucked harder.

"Jesus Christ," he snapped, gripping her hair in his fist and pulling her head back. "Easy."

Buffy let out a little laugh, licking her lips, her hands holding his head still as her legs wound around him, using the long gravestone as an anchor. "I don't think so."

Buffy kissed him, hard, attacking his lips. Something hot was racing through her body, forcing her actions as she dug her nails into his body, rubbing her body against his. The heat between her legs grew feverish as a well of pleasure started building. She moaned, ignoring the small voice in the back of her head that said she was being too rough. She wasn't this rough, she didn't do these things.

But right now she did. And she would because it felt amazing, especially as he returned the fervor, shoving his tongue down her throat. As his thick hardness swelled against her and Buffy mewled, she couldn't push away the feeling that she needed to do this, that she needed to be the one wanting, needing, demanding… She needed more. Her core throbbed with an aching need as she remembered just how delicious he felt between her legs, sawing in and out of her and the want burned a hot trail through her body.

Buffy broke the kiss, pushing Dean back with surprising force. Dean stumbled and she caught a quick glimpse of his face from the flashlight still on the ground. His lips were swollen, his hair askew. Where she had punched him just a few minutes ago was already swelling, an angry red and it only made her hotter. Licking her lips, Buffy grabbed his jacket and swung him around, his back slamming into the gravestone as she dropped down before him.

She felt Dean's hands in her tangled hair as she made quick work of his belt and jeans, shoving them and his boxer briefs down. His heavy and ready member popped free, pulsating with need and weeping for attention but that wasn't what she wanted right now. She stood and quickly unbuckled her thigh gun holster, dropping it to the ground before unzipping her shorts. Interrupting his trying to remove her shirt, Buffy pushed on his shoulder. Dean got the hint and leaned down against the gravestone, sliding to his butt on the grass as Buffy released one leg, letting her shorts slide down.

Dean shoved his pants down enough to make room for her and she straddled him. She didn't miss the excited gleam in his eye as she took control, the way his lips lifted in a secret smile as she reached between them, lifting her thong out of the way. There was something new here, something different… usually it was Dean pulling the reins, telling her body what to do and where he wanted it…

That just wasn't going to work this time.

Buffy sucked in a quick breath as Dean followed her hand, shoving his between her legs. She felt his fingers glide through her wetness, finding her opening for a quick moment. She was slippery and ready for him and Buffy's entrance grasped onto the two fingers he slid inside her. A quiver of pleasure burned in her stomach and Buffy insistently thrust her hips against his hand. Letting out a grunt of satisfaction, Dean left her warmth and gripped the base of his dick, guiding it to her entrance.

Buffy thrust down on him, taking his entire length into her hot core.

A strangled cry from the sensation of being so full so quickly filled the night air as she lifted her hips and slammed back down. The feeling of so much of him inside her, filling her, taking over her, had the sear of her orgasm building like a raging fire as she rode him. She felt him cupping her breasts before tugging on them. She let out a hiss of pleasure when his lips found one of her nipples through her tank and she wound her hands through his hair, pulling on him painfully, yanking him up to her lips.

Their lips waged war on another as Buffy took him. The wet sound from her arousal quickly filled the absent air that their pants of pleasure didn't fill. Something hot and bright occupied her, starting at her core and blossoming through her center at a rapid pace, filling her to the brim...

Gripping his head, Buffy moved quicker, harder, spreading her legs so she could take him deeper. With a choked gasp, Buffy broke from his lips, hugging him to her, squeezing her eyes shut as the fire grew, the tingling pleasure spreading through her body in blistering anticipation.

"Yes, yes, oh god," Buffy breathed against him. His breathy moans spurred her on and Dean's hands suddenly came up her back as he sat up, his fingers gripping her shoulders painfully from behind. He pushed her down harder, punishingly hard, the wet sound of her sex floating out around them; the sound of her skin slapping against his echoing her cries. It was so good, so… "Oh yes, yes… Dean… Dean…"

In a hot rush Buffy came, a harsh shout falling from her lips as her orgasm rocketed through her body. Her core rippled strongly, her inner muscles clamping onto Dean's dick like it was a life line, pushing him over the edge along with her. She felt his shout against her throat as he came inside her in heavy jerks, his grip on her tightening as he thrust wildly underneath her. She struggled to keep up, her breathing uneven and rapid as he arched into her one last time before falling limp.

Buffy felt her arms and legs trembling as she twitched against him, her face in his hair, his open mouth panting against her collarbone. Dean's arms stayed latched around her as he fell back against the gravestone, taking her with him.

"Wow," he breathed, still panting. Buffy just nodded, licking her dry lips. A satisfied throbbing emanated from between her legs, the slow lava starting to cool down in her veins as she tried to remember what had happened before that did. She had been mad at him, right?

Wow, seemed like eons ago.

A little twinge in her right leg caught her attention and she shifted. Dean's hands found her hips, holding her tightly, shaking his head. He didn't say anything as he slowly lifted her before pushing her back down. Buffy let out a hiss when she felt him hardening inside her again; everything felt dulled and heavy as he moved against her gently, moving so slowly that she barely thought he was moving at all. The heavy wetness between her legs wept a little more as she felt the familiar pleasure crackling again under the surface.

"Again?" she whispered against the crown of his head. A hint of a smile decorated her face, the feeling of being filled completely returning as he gained traction.

Dean grunted in reply. "What can I say..." He hissed, shifting his eyes down to where their bodies met. "I missed you."

Buffy chuckled before groaning in discomfort as the twinge in her leg came violently back to life. "Hang on…" She felt the cramp grabbing at her muscles and she cursed. "Oh, I can't, I can't, I'm getting a cramp in my leg. Cramp, cramp."

Buffy lifted herself off of him as gracefully as she could, rolling to her side to stand. Her thong waded through the mess between her legs while she walked around, shaking her leg out.

"Water," Buffy mumbled. "Should've brought more water. Always drink more water. Digging, lots of digging and crazy sex and do I bring water? No." She never did; in fact, if she had a penny for every time Merrick nagged her about it, she'd be rich.

Buffy felt her shorts falling to her ankle as she dragged them through the dirt. Her legs were still wobbly as she heard Dean standing up behind her. The whispered sound of his pants being pulled back up met her ears.

She wanted to apologize or some crap, but she clamped that feeling down. She should still be mad at the doof, shouldn't she?

Making a small circle, she turned back to face him, ready to suggest heading back to her place where the water and the comfy bed lived when his hands found her hips and he lifted her easily, like she didn't weigh anything more than a freaking bag of potatoes. She let out a little yelp when he set her down on the cold granite of the gravestone before pushing her to lay back.

"Dean-"

"Relax your leg," he said, his hands running up and down her thighs as he bent over, placing her legs over his shoulders. She tried to push herself up but the gravestone didn't allow it. It was long enough for her to lie on but too thin to roll around and sit up and ask him what he thought he was doing. Hello, leg cramp?

But it did feel pretty good stretched out over his back…

"Dean, what-" Goose bumps erupted over her skin as her body warmed the stone beneath her ass and she felt the tickle of his stubble on her inner thigh, erasing her mind. She gasped his name again, her eyes closing as her body came to life at the thought of where he was and what he planned on doing with that mouth of his. She felt him lift her thong out of their mess once more; he didn't wait to see if she was ready or let either of them wonder why they were doing this in the middle of nowhere when she felt his lips and then his tongue on her clit.

Her hips jerked up against his mouth with alarm, her gentle tissues sensitive as he tasted her again. His hands gripped her hips, nailing her body down to the granite as he delved his face between her legs. Buffy groaned when she felt his tongue dancing around her tight hole, her back arching to get closer to him as the slow burn of another orgasm immediately started kindling. Her hands were on the back of his head, pushing him in closer, her inner muscles contracting, aching for something to come into it, achingly ready again...

"Dean, please," she moaned, tossing her head to the side as she yearned to thrust up against his mouth. His tongue flickered against her clit, hot jolts flaring through her body and she keeled underneath him, squeezing her thighs tighter around his head as she waited for him to... "Please."

Dean suddenly flattened his tongue and thrust it into her. Buffy bucked against his face, her nails digging into his scalp as he thrust in and out, his nose rubbing against her clit with a specific rhythm that had her climax building quickly. Buffy whimpered his name, whimpered for him to not stop, never stop... "Oh god, I'm so close, I'm... I'm... Dean..."

Without warning, he sucked her clit between his lips, his tongue massaging it with a fierce tenderness. She felt his teeth graze over it as that hot blinding pleasure arched hotter from her center...

"Don't stop, please... Don't stop..."

And then there was no more Dean. Buffy's eyes flew open in protest, her legs falling lax as Dean stood up, whipping his jacket off and throwing it onto the ground. Tugging her off the stone, Dean lifted her and laid her down on his jacket. Spreading her legs so wide it was painful, Dean shoved his unbuttoned jeans out of the way before he thrust into her.

Buffy came the moment he entered, her ready walls clamping around him again as the base of his dick rubbed against her clit. She gasped over his moan as he angled his body further, lifting himself up on his arms to thrust into her deeper. This time it was gentler, easier... the fire and passion from earlier subdued but still burning just as hot. Buffy reached up and wrapped her arms around his back, arching her body to let him inside her further as she lifted her legs to wind around him, the twinge in her leg overpowered.

Buffy felt another orgasm building, almost painful with its intensity as Dean moved inside her. His pace started to pick up, quickening as his breathing got heavier. Buffy's mouth opened in a silent moan as he moved his hips just so, hitting just the right spot. Something agonizingly hot started building in her center. Her eyes flew open to find his only to see him watching her, his face a level of fierce concentration.

Buffy yanked him down, their chests colliding. Dean's hands flew down to her hips, holding her down as he started thrusting even harder, even faster. His stubble pressed into her neck and cheek and Buffy rained kisses on his temple, his ear, his jaw line... He grunted her name, his fingers digging into her skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, his thrusts wild and painful, harder and harder...

Buffy's body shattered as she came again, her legs coming up and hugging him to her as tight as she could as she arched underneath him, his name a litany on her lips. He thrust into her harder, his hands crushing her; he grunted and everything in her felt like an inferno as he moved faster. With a sharp exhale, Dean thrust home, coming heavy and loud. He emptied everything he had into her, his fingers denting her skin so hard she was sure she would have bruises the next morning.

Buffy sucked in a deep breath as he collapsed on her, his breath hot and wet against her skin. He buried his face in her hair as he slowly released her hips. Everywhere he touched her, she felt a gentle tingle and she sighed at the gentle caresses before a shiver racked her body.

"Sorry," he grunted, slipping out and rolling away. Buffy whimpered at the loss, her arm followed along, cushioning his neck against the hard ground. A long moment passed as their breathing started evening out.

"Okay," Buffy sighed. "That..."

"That," Dean said, twisting his head to look at her. "Was one for the bucket list. Sex in a graveyard... kinky." Buffy's eyes narrowed at him and he grinned, turning back to look at the sky. "That was definitely not what I planned when I came out here."

Buffy snorted. "Right."

"Hey, I'm not the one who got all fisticuffs and started throwing her delicate little fists around."

"Well I'm not the one who snuck up on me like a total creepy guy without even saying hello first."

"You were talking to yourself."

"I was keeping myself company."

"Right. I'm sure Patrice over there was a real talker."

A moment of quiet passed before Buffy said, "Are we really laying half-naked in a cemetery arguing?"

"Yeah." A beat. "This part sure doesn't make it into the Asian vampire porn."

Buffy rolled her head to look at him and he shrugged. "What the hell do you think I do on those lonely nights when Sam's got his head buried in research and I don't have you to bury my head in?"

Buffy bit the inside of her lip to keep from grinning at the rush of euphoria his words gave her or how much hearing that he watched porn instead of finding some random bimbo meant to her. That was a list of crazy thinking for another time. Instead, she turned back to the sky. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

Buffy felt his hand on her stomach as he turned to her and her heartbeat shot to life, his fingers slipping underneath her shirt. He smirked. "Hey, I warned you, didn't I?"

When she opened her mouth to argue, he kissed her instead.

"Mmm... okay." He kissed her more thoroughly, his tongue tangling with hers, her arousal still heavy on his lips as she arched into his hand.

"Room," he grunted. "Now."

Buffy didn't miss a beat. "Mm, yeah, I don't think so. Why don't you finish re-burying that grave..." She didn't miss the way his face suddenly fell. "Since one, ew that we just had sex next to dead Patrice and two, you owe me for scaring me and three..." Buffy grazed her lips against his. "It's the only way I'll let you put your hand down my pants again."

The End

I was made for lovin' you baby
You were made for lovin' me
And I can't get enough of you baby
Can you get enough of me


I wrote this almost immediately after the last update and it's just been sitting around, hanging out, waiting for me to say, "This is it! Ready for posting!" Didn't happen so I'm posting anyway. In other news, feedback makes the world go round. Remember! If you have a request for something Buffy/Dean smutty, please feel free to ask! It might not show up right away but I've got a list of future stories and I'll definitely add any requests in. Thank you for the reviews!