The morning dawned cool and clear, last night's rain clearing all the mugginess and humidity of the last several days.

"Whattimeisit?" Joss mumbled. Her voice was heavy with sleep.

"A little after 5," Reese caressed her cheek.

She opened her eyes, slowly. "I stayed," she said.

"Yes," he nodded.

He saw something flash across her face, small and secret, but so strong and pure it humbled him. She could hide it under the numbers and the bantering and the gunplay and the sex, but here in the clear morning light he caught a glimpse of it. Their eyes met and she knew that he'd seen it.

"Don't make this more than it is," she whispered.

"I never have," he lied.

She shifted and there was a crackling noise. "What the –"reaching underneath her hip she pulled out the twisted and wrinkled coffee maker manual. Fully awake now, she pushed him on his back, running her hands down to his throbbing cock. "What's the story, morning glory?"

He groaned under her sure touch "Morning glory?"

She kissed him – she was the old Joss again, strong, confident and in control. "You know, everybody has a relative – a crazy aunt or uncle that the kids adore, but the adults are scandalized by? In my family it's Aunt Cecelia – I'd ask her all the questions about boys and sex that my mom was too uptight to talk about. I'd heard the term 'morning wood' and asked her what it meant – she explained it to me, but told me she always called it 'morning glory' because it meant she and my late Uncle Stewart were going to have a glorious start to the day."

"She available?"

"You couldn't handle her – you'd die happy though – Uncle Stewart did."

He cocked an eyebrow at her, "No…"

"Back seat of their car, at their 60th high school reunion."

He traced his fingers up her waist, "So, back seats…a family tradition."

"It's in the blood," she gasped as he ghosted his thumbs across her breasts, "And here you thought you were irresistible."

This morning the lovemaking was sweet and slow, unlike the frenzied coupling of last night. Reese loved how the sunlight played against her skin, making it shimmer against the dark red sheets. For the first time, she let him taste her. If he was intoxicated by Joss Carter before, now he was addicted, so much so that he growled in protest when she put her hands in his hair and asked him to stop.

"I want to come with you inside me," she whispered.

He slowly slid inside her, watching her face as their bodies began to dance together. She clung to him, crying out his name as she came, driving him to his own release. They lay together, sticky and warm for a long while, until Joss' stomach grumbled, making its own needs known.

She showed him how to use the coffee maker, and while the bagels were like rocks, he had eggs and some fruit so they were able to make breakfast.

She didn't want him to escort her home. "I've got a few things to do first."

From his window, he watched her walk down the street. She didn't look back.

But she'd stayed. And probably not this week, but sometime in the future, he vowed, she stay again.