Author's Note: Hey, you guys. Another week, another Wednesday. Work is going well but my dad's pissed at me and I'm a delightful combination of hurt and homicidal towards him. I already talked to my mom about it so he's going to have to break the Silent War because I ain't doing it first. He's wrong, he's not going to admit it and I'm not in a forgiving mood.

However, I am in the mood for Reid/Prentiss awesomeness (despite the fact that the episode tonight was a rerun) so kick back and enjoy. Oh, and the summary still applies to the story and I've got some wonderful Team ideas (example: my story Getting Together) but, smut is what my muses want right now and smut is what they will get.

Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"

Without fail, he always woke up at 5:45. No matter how much or how little sleep he had gotten, his eyes opened at 5:45 sharp. He never considered it a bad thing. Early morning was the best time to finish term papers ahead of time, not to mention seeing the sunrise. Oh, and coffee. Coffee definitely was good.

Waking up with a very naked Emily sprawled out next to him was his definition of perfection. Spencer knew that they'd have to get up soon. Work, her psychologist appointment, and the ever present need for milk couldn't be ignored forever. However, there was another, wonderful thing about being a pathological early bird.

Morning sex.

Apparently, she felt the same way because when he turned to face her, she was already sliding into his arms, kissing him deep, regardless of morning breath. He liked that almost as much he liked her legs wrapping around his waist. Cupping her ass, he put her underneath him and she smiled up at him softly as he slid into her smoothly. She gave that little whimper again and he shivered as her nails raked against his shoulders.

"Morning.", he greeted.

"Hi. Hell of a first date, huh?"

"Mm…any regrets?"

"Only that we haven't been doing this for years."

If anyone else had said that to him, he would've dismissed it as a lie but it was Emily. Unless there were extenuating circumstances, she was completely honest, honesty that sometimes got her into trouble. She was writhing slowly underneath him, matching his languid pace. Warmth pooled and tunneled through his body, stoked by her moans and sighs of bliss. He couldn't keep his lips off of hers for more than a moment and she spread her legs wider, held him closer, tighter as they picked up speed and depth.

"Spencer…""she gasped as her body began to quiver underneath his.

Why did her voice saying his given name sound better than all the others in his life? His heart immediately supplied that it was because she was Emily but his mind…

"…Just because you're the youngest doesn't make you any less of a man…"

That was it. When she called him Spencer, she wasn't seeing the Genius or the Kid who needed protecting. She saw him as a man, her man. Her man who wanted nothing more than to make her come again and again and again…

"Spencer!"

"Mmm… Emily…don't stop…don't ever stop…" he rasped in her ear as her core gripped him, clenched him, took him…

Soon enough, his cries of release joined hers and he felt every muscle in his body tense and then liquefy, bringing him heavily on top of her. Instead of trying to get him off of her, Emily held him to her bosom and kissed him on the brow.

Silently, he amended his stance on morning sex.

Morning sex with Emily was another, wonderful thing about being a pathological early bird.