In the pleasant haze of the early morning, and Amelia's propensity to be slow to wake, the warmth of Jon's body as it presses to her back doesn't register as real. It's not often that she wakes up with company, after all.

There's a soft pressure as he fits his hand more securely around her, and as he massages and squeezes, she arches her back much like a cat, pushing her all the closer. Almost automatically, she moves to slide a leg between his, already wanting all the more contact, even if she's convinced that she's dreaming.

But then there's the press of lips to her shoulder, and then her neck, and she doesn't quite open her eyes yet, but she reaches back with a hand, brushing fingertips gently over his thigh.

Not a dream.