WHO: Ruby & Sam WHEN: later evening WHERE: their garage WHAT: smut. purely smut. (maybe serious discussion when they're done) RATING: nc17
Despite their stupid argument a couple days ago, Ruby and Sam fell back into a normal pattern fairly quickly. She was actually not minding this house-wife thing. It wasn't like she sat on her ass and ate bon-bons while watching Oprah or anything, but it was more normal than either one of them had a right to. She didn't have a regular job, but if the bar Sam was working at needed some extra help, she worked now and again. She hustled pool and poker now and again just for the hell of it. And when she wasn't working, she was doing the normal wife things. She cooked, she cleaned, she shopped. It was actually pretty fucking disturbing how normal they'd become.
She'd actually just finished cleaning the kitchen and realized that Sam had used the last of the dishwashing liquid without replacing it. Whatever. There was a spare in the garage. She headed that way, not really expecting to find Sam in there tinkering around with their car. Well, his car. As far as she knew, the car was fine. But apparently Sam had other ideas. Either that or he was doing something new to it, setting up some new weapons thing or adding torque or whatever. Didn't matter.
What mattered was the blood that rushed to Ruby's face as she watched him all bent over like that. Sometimes, when she wasn't distracted by raging hormones, it dawned on Ruby that she was in too deep. That when there were times she couldn't look at him without wanting him, that the mere fact of a demon enjoying having a normal life, meant that she really should cut and run now before it was too late. Except it really was already too late. For a demon and a hunter that had as much demon in him as Sam did, they were really about as well-adjusted as they could be. Probably more-so than most normal people.
Ruby snuck up behind Sam. She leaned over him, nuzzling against his throat, nipping at his ear. She slid her hands between them, both hands, groping his ass in a way that really could not be mistaken for anything more than a plea for him to throw her onto the hood of the car and do a number of dirty things to her. She didn't even bother to say anything, not verbally, because she was pretty sure her body language said more than enough.