It wasn't that Dean hadn't been planning on telling Buffy. He just hadn't found the right moment. What with the whole disagreement about kids hunting and Christmas and presents and food. He had just been searching for the right moment. The right time. No, that time wouldn't have been right as he was leaving or when he was half-way across the country. Dean had plans to tell her way before then. Certainly. The right time wasn't when she'd found out from someone else. Yet it seemed like he wouldn't be getting a better time.
He'd been rummaging to her fridge, holding onto a chicken leg with his teeth when she came up behind him. Dean very nearly almost slammed his head on one of the shelves. Very slowly he turned, and gave her an 'oops look', the most adorable one he could muster. With chicken leg still in his mouth. Could she stay pissed off at this face? She probably could. Buffy had staying power. In more ways than one. It wasn't all just sex and beating people up related, unfortunately.
Placing the stuff in his arms on the counter, Dean removed the chicken. "I was ... I was planning to tell you." He finished off, lamely. Awkward. "Really I was."