There was no reason for Chris and Denise to stay up after putting Jack to bed, but there they were still snuggled up on the couch in the living room at 1:21AM. The television was showing reruns of 'The Simpsons', not that either of them were watching. Chris was sat at the end of the couch with his socked feet up on the coffee table that had since been moved back. Denise's head was in his lap and she faced the TV with her eyes closed; one of her arms wrapped around a quietly snoring Dodger. Chris smiled as he played with his wife's hair; hair he was glad she was letting grow back to her usual length and return to its natural color. It wasn't that she didn't suit her new color and length- she looked amazing and he'd repeatedly told her so, he just preferred her hair in its natural color and usual length.

He could still remember his confusion when he first came home after she got her hair done, it was just after Christmas. Denise wasn't the kind of person who got her hair done often, she'd only went because she got a gift certificate from a co-worker for a fancy salon somewhere in Beverly Hills and didn't want it to go to waste.

Chris had walked into the house that night to see his son in the arms of a girl that had short, curly hair with blonde highlights. And though Denise had told him she was getting her hair done that day, it didn't register with him; he thought the girl in front of him was a babysitter his wife had hired. It wasn't until she turned and he saw her face that he realized the girl was his wife. Chris stood there a little gobsmacked because he had never expected that big a change from a girl who always played it safe; Denise was usually all talk and no action when it came to her hair. If he had a dollar every time she said "I think I'm going to do something different with my hair" and returned home with almost exactly the same hairstyle- he could use the money to do something different to his own hair.

Chris continued to play with Denise's hair as she slept, smiling at how peaceful she and Dodger looked. He really did like her in his clothes, especially his Patriots hoodie. He always liked it when she wore items supporting his teams, even if it was his. He was sick of seeing her in anything that had the Yankees logo on it. Fan or not, he couldn't handle his wife on the opposing team.

Chris carefully used his foot to sweep his phone off the coffee table and onto the rug, dragging it towards the hand he had reaching down. He wanted to take a photo of Denise and Dodger sleeping, the sight was too precious not to capture and save infinitely. Seeing as the two were fairly light sleepers now that Jack was in their lives, he had to be languid with his movements. He successfully scooped up his phone without stirring either of them from their sleep, then smiled as he positioned his phone so two of his favorite beings were in the shot. But before he could take the photo, he heard Denise mumble "please don't take photos of me while I'm sleeping," and laughed.

"Why?" He asked, lowering his phone. "You take photos of me when I'm sleeping all the time. That photo of me and Dodger on the couch that went viral, that had your name written all over it. So pretend to sleep, I want this to be as cute." Denise audibly whined, nuzzling her face into Dodger's fur so it wouldn't be in the photo. "Let me take the photo." He chuckled, poking her side. The second she squirmed, she woke Dodger; he jumped off the couch and padded off. "Great," Chris huffed, pouting, "there goes my perfect shot."

"Good," she looked up at him, snatching his phone from his hand. "I don't like it when you take photos of me when I'm sleeping." Before he could ask why, she explained though she felt like she shouldn't have had to after almost four years together. "Not everyone is like you, Evans. Some people," she pointed to herself, "have to really try before they look good for a photo. So no," she shoved his phone into the pocket of his Patriots hoodie. "You don't get to take photos of me while I'm sleeping."

"You think you need to try before you look good for a photo?" He asked rhetorically, then laughed. "That is bullshit. Give me my phone," he shoved his hand into her pocket for his phone and she laughed, catching his hand so he couldn't pull it out. "I've got proof in there," he told her, smiling. "I've got a ton of photos of you not trying and you look amazing in all of them."

"You realize your judgment is askew, right?" She released his hand and he pulled out his phone. She sat up, taking his arm to wrap around herself as she leaned into him. He swiped through his photographs, stopping at one of his favorites of her. It was the one he took in Verona, when she'd been writing to Juliet. "Well, that doesn't count. I didn't try, but I was definitely already dressed up."

"What? You were not dressed up," he laughed. "You had no makeup on, you were in a tank top overlaid with one of my plaid shirts and a pair of jeans. I've seen you dressed up and that was not it." She giggled, swiping to the next photo. "Just admit it," he kissed the side of her head then whispered, "you're beautiful, whether or not you try to be."

"No," she gasped, bringing Chris' attention back to his phone. Heat rose to his cheeks when he realized she was looking at the photo he'd secretly taken of her, just moments before he successfully approached her. "Is that me at the airport?" She raised a brow at him, a smug smile on her lips.

He said nothing as he tried to swipe for the next photo.

"Oh my God!" Denise laughed, swiftly moving the phone from his reach. "That's crazy," she couldn't help her commentary as she took another look, "no way." Chris chuckled, knowing his little secret had been revealed. "Christopher Robert Evans." Denise shook her head in disbelief. "Mr. I-hate-the-limelight, Mr. I-love-personal-space." She giggled and pulled away so she could turn to him full body. "Did you take a sneaky shot of me that day?"

"Maybe."

"Wow," she gasped again, more dramatically this time. He chuckled, reaching for his phone but she quickly moved it behind her back. "I don't know if I should be flattered, or creeped out. Megastar Chris Evans took a sneaky shot of me, a nobody." He simultaneously laughed and groaned, leaning forward to rest his forehead against her shoulder as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. She hugged him back, smiling at the photo. "Nope, I've decided." He drew his head back with a raised brow. "I'm flattered, incredibly flattered."

"That's a relief," he admitted, pulling her onto his lap. "I was going to tell you about it after we became friends, but I didn't know if it was something that would scare you off." She snickered and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right," he said for her, smiling. "No, I uh- I only took that photo because of Scott. I'd been texting him about you since I saw you at that check-in and he wanted to know what you looked like. I believe he said, 'she must be pretty special if she still has your attention after two failed attempts to approach.'" They both smiled at that. "He's quite astute, that boy."

"I'm surprise this is the first time I'm hearing about this, you'd think Scott would use this story against you after you embarrass him with all of your stories." Denise said and Chris laughed, nodding in agreement. "Well, there's not much to use against you. I think it's very sweet," she passed him back his phone and he smiled, kissing her cheek. "Can you imagine if we didn't meet at that airport? What do you think our lives would be like now?"

"Miserable, probably."

"Definitely, for me anyway."

"Thank God we met then, right?"

"Yeah," she nodded, smiling. He inched forward and she met him halfway; they shared a sweet, tender but heavily passionate kiss. The moment was promptly ruined when she heard a shutter click. She broke the kiss, laughing. "Seriously?" She playfully slapped his chest and he chuckled, examining the photo he'd just taken. "Okay," she smiled when she saw the photo. "That is a pretty good photo."

"Think I could be a photographer if I ever decide to quit acting?"

"Photographer, no. But paparazzi, maybe, seeing as you like to take sneaky shots." She teased him and he laughed, hugging her tightly. "You're adorable to me, Chris Evans." She giggled, hugging him as tightly as he was hugging her. "Should we go to bed now?" She quizzed, running her fingers through his hair as she kissed the top of his head. "We've got an early morning tomorrow. I've got a house to decorate and you've got a shuttle service to run."

"Right," he chuckled. "I don't understand why they're all choosing to fly a three AM flight. Couldn't they just arrive a day or two earlier? Sebastian and Luca have an apartment, we've got room to accommodate my family. Wouldn't it have been easier on all of us?" Denise shrugged in response because she didn't understand their decision either. "Oh well, let's go to bed." He released her and she got to her feet. She stretched her arms over her head as she yawned, drawing a smile from Chris. "Definitely," she heard Chris whispered under his breath.

"What?" She turned around, releasing another yawn.

"Nothing," he shook his head, "I was agreeing with your earlier statement."

"I talk a lot," she said and he laughed, "you're going to have to be more specific."

"About being miserable if we didn't meet at that airport," he responded. "I would definitely be miserable if you weren't in my life right now. No late night chats, just Dodger to sleep next to, and no Jack. Also-" He pulled her in for a hug, breathing her in. "My favorite sweatshirt won't be returned smelling like candy."

"I'd list everything I wouldn't have without you, but the sun would rise before I'm finished so..." She trailed off and then shared a laugh with him. "I'm just going to say this instead," she began, wrapping her arms around his neck, rising to her tiptoes. "Thank you."

"No, thank you," he dipped his head and kissed her.