Disclaimer: as always, I own nothing, no copyright infringement is intended.

The next morning, Spencer Reid heard the alarm and shut it off. For a few brief moments, he thought about just rolling over and sleeping some more. He felt comfortable in bed, with Emily still asleep next to him, both of them naked. Then he thought Emily might like to have coffee this morning, and so he decided to get up and brew some. But when he moved to get out of bed, Emily wrapped her arms around him tighter.

"Not yet," she growled. "No one gets up for a few more minutes."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because?"

She sighed. "There was a Chinese philosopher who woke up, after dreaming he was a butterfly. He said, he didn't know if he was a Chinese philosopher who had just dreamed he was a butterfly or a butterfly who was now dreaming he was a Chinese philosopher."

"I'm familiar with the story. His name was Chuang Tzu. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Because I hate time of day. It's the worst part of my day."

"Why?"

"Because this the moment when I'm not certain if all of this was a dream or not. I don't want to open my eyes, because there's a part of me that's afraid I'm still in the warehouse being tortured by Ian Doyle. Or worse."

"Worse?"

"Maybe I'm not Emily Prentiss the FBI agent. Maybe I'm still Emily Prentiss the young daughter of a US Ambassador, moving from place to place. She always feels alone, she doesn't fit in anywhere, and she doesn't know what to do. So, just give me a few more minutes to enjoy the idea that none of that is true and the last few weeks weren't a dream."

As she said these things to him, Reid shifted his position until he was looking at her face. He would look at her eyes, but they were still closed. She means it, he realized. She's really afraid this has been a dream. For the first time in the years that he knew her, he saw her as completely vulnerable. She wasn't the tough FBI agent, who faced the horrors of terrorists, rapists, and serial killers without flinching. This was a part of her he had never seen. Maybe no one ever had.

He shifted his body until he was on top of her. "Open you eyes Emily," he said softly and gently. "This is real. I'm here. You're here. Ian Doyle is dead. You are FBI agent Emily Prentiss, one of the BAU's greatest assets. And, most importantly, even if those things weren't true, you would still fit in. You are a good person and I love you."

She opened her eyes, and he saw the beginnings of tears forming in her eyes. Before he could say anything else, she gently touched the left side of his face with her hand. "You are so beautiful. That's not a word that's usually used to describe men, but you are beautiful and pretty. Your face is pretty, the words you just said to me are pretty, and you are beautiful down to the depths of your soul. There are not words to describe how much I love you right now." The tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

"Then why are you crying?" he asked.

"Those are tears of joy." She closed her eyes again as she stroked his face. He placed his hand over hers, and removed her hand from his face. Then he moved her palm to his lips and started planting kisses all over her hand. Then he leaned down and started planting soft, gentle kisses all over her face. Then he kissed his way down her face to her throat.

His kisses on her throat elicited gentle moans of pleasure. Then he began to work his way down to her breasts, gently biting her left nipple which caused her to cry out. As he sucked on it, his right hand caressed her right breast. He took the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, kneading it. She cried out again,"Oh my God Spencer."

He started to move down further on her body, but she reached down and pulled him back up. "My turn," she said. She flipped him on his back, and started to stroke his erect manhood. As she stroked it, she started kissing him. After a while, she brought her mouth down to his hardness and took it in her mouth. As soon as she started sucking on it, Reid started moaning in pleasure.

In what he felt was too short a time frame, he could feel he was ready to climax. "Emily," he said, "I'm coming, Emily," he tried to disengage his manhood from her mouth, but she refused to relinquish it. She just sucked harder and harder. Then, without warning, Reid could feel his toes curl involuntarily. Then he felt s slight tremble in his leg. In a matter of seconds, his legs were shaking violently, he cried out as he exploded in Emily's mouth. She continued sucking until she had swallowed all of the warm, white discharge.

She climbed on top of him, smiling contently as she snuggled close to him. "That was wonderful, Spencer."

"You did most of the work."

"And I got the reward."

After a few minutes Reid asked,"Do you want breakfast?"

"Not yet."

"Do you plan to stay in bed all day?"

"Not all day. Though we could, it being Saturday and all. But you owe me more time, Spencer Reid."

"How do you figure?"

"You owe me from the other day. You owe me some comfort time."

"And you want to have it now?"

"Very much. Starting with this," she started to kiss him again, and began to make love again.

And again.