Every New Beginning... (Chris Evans AU)

.110.

  When Chris leaves I make a quick phone call to Pops, checking in on him. Send off a group text to Lily and Rae letting them know we made it safe and sound. I have a quick call with Laura in which I discover Chris' surprise is having the girl's from the salon fix my hair and make up for the Policeman's Ball.     

  At this point I realize my body is reminding me of the incredibly early morning that started our day, my eyes getting heavier, my back even aching from the earlier lengthy car ride. I decide the best course of action is a soak in the bathtub. 

  I begin running the water only to see that Chris has purchased my favorite scented bubble bath, leaving it right next to the faucet to make sure I'd see it. His fluffy navy towels resting on the corner, folded neatly just waiting for me. 

  I think over our day together, remembering bits and pieces of statements he's made that make me realize he might be wanting to move this process along quicker than I'm prepared for. 'When you're permanently here,' and 'I love when you're here to see me off.' Why on earth do these small words, tiny windows of his desires, make me panic? 

Resting my head back against the porcelain tub, I close my eyes, attempting to keep my racing heart at bay. Instead, I focus on my breathing. I focus on the warmth of the water, the comfort of being wrapped among the bubbles.  

  By the time my skin begins to prune, I've managed to work myself back to a steady rhythm. Maybe the comments felt like so much more to me because of feeling exhausted. I'm sure the time spent relaxing has just helped me see things with a clearer mind. I'm sure tomorrow will prove that the attack was strictly due to tiredness. 

  I bypass my own pajamas, with the exception of bed shorts, instead pulling on one of Chris' t-shirts. It falls about mid thigh, making me look like I'm not wearing shorts at all. Climbing into his bed I breathe in that all too familiar scent that lulls me into a peaceful sleep. 

  I'm shocked when I wake up to start seeing the tinge of pink in the sky through Chris' floor to ceiling windows. How I managed to sleep through the night, without waking up, boggles my mind.

 I roll onto my right side to watch the changing sky when I'm reminded of the exact reason I slept so soundly. I inhale against the pillow that still smells like Chris, and a sense of peace fills me once more, just as it did the night before. 

  There is no effort to get up being made on my part at this point. I just lay in silence, watching the sky change hues every couple of minutes until the darkness is completely gone from the sky. Rolling onto my back I stretch my legs, extending my feet as well, before raising my arms in the air and stretching those out as well. That's when I realize nature is calling loudly and get up to make my way to the bathroom. 

  As I finish up and move to the sink to wash my hands I glance a look at the alarm clock. It's just 7:30 which means at best Chris has only been home a couple of hours. But I need to know for certain he made it back, and inside his bedroom there's no indication of that. I know him well enough that he wouldn't run the risk of disturbing my sleep last night.

  I tiptoe over to the bedroom door that is still closed from the night before. Turning the knob I do my best to keep the motion quiet. The couch rests along the wall against the bedroom so I pull the door open wide enough to stick my head out, looking to the left.

  The couch is empty.

  I swing the door open wider, taking a step out. My eyes darting around to the entryway table, breathing a sigh of relief as I see his holster sitting on top of the cherry wood. "Chris?" I call out, still quiet. Nothing.

  I poke my head into the kitchen, but everything there is as I left it before bed. I walk down the hallway to the bathroom. The door is open, lights off. Walking back into the living room I look around to see if there's any note or something that I'm missing. I do notice his pillow looks like it had been slept on, and the Patriots blanket is in a pile on the end of the couch. 

  "Did I miss a call or text?" I ask aloud to myself as I walk back into the bedroom. My phone sits in the same spot I placed it in before bed. "No calls. No texts." I sit on the edge of the bed, typing out my own text to him.

Me- You're a lousy host, ya know.

Me- A note or something would've been nice.

Nothing.

Me- Did you have a nightmare that I was gonna smother you in your sleep or something? Tucked tail and ran, did ya?

Me- I'm getting a bit freaked out here, Sergeant.

  I stare at the cell in my hand, willing for something to come through. Just as I'm about to click on his actual number to call, I hear the lock turn. Tossing the phone on the bed I make my way back out of the bedroom. The closer I get I hear what sounds like keys dropping to the floor and some muffled muttering. 

  Pulling the door open I'm met with a man who is fumbling around with bags of take out and cups of coffee. I take the bag of food that he's actually  holding between his teeth. "Thank you," he tells me, following me into the dining area. 

  "What are you doing? I text you but you didn't respond."

  He sets the coffee down, along with the other bags before going back to the door and picks his keys up off the floor.  "My hands were a little occupied, babe." He tosses the keys onto the table before sliding his watch off too. "But good morning to you too."

  I release a loud sigh, dropping into one of the chairs at the table. "I was worried. You didn't leave a note or anything. You were suppose to still be asleep."

  "I'm sorry," he leans down, kissing my cheek. "I got in earlier than I thought I would so I decided to wake up and grab breakfast from Egg Harbor." He starts pulling out breakfast sandwiches and cinnamon rolls. "My plan was to get back in time for the sunrise, but the cinnamon rolls weren't ready yet."

  "Chris, this is way too much food." 

  "I knew you were gonna say that, so I've already prepared an answer. You ready?" He takes the seat next to me. I motion with my hand for him to continue. "Leftovers." He mimics a mic drop as he says "boom."

  I roll my eyes as I begin fixing my coffee, walking into the kitchen to grab my creamer that I now keep here for my visits. When I turn around I see Chris looking at my quizzically. "What?" 

  "Is that my shirt?" 

  "Don't you remember what Pops told you the day after we got engaged?" I ask stirring my creamer into the coffee.

  "Refresh my memory, please."

  I set the coffee cup in the microwave to warm it up a bit more. "What's yours is mine, and what's mine is mine."

  He lets out a low chuckle. "Ah, yes, I seem to recall that now. One more question though." He leans back a bit in the chair, his arm resting on the table as he continues to watch me.

  "Shoot." The microwave dings, alerting me that my coffee is ready. 

  "You wearing anything under it?" My wide eyes meet his devilish ones, his smirk prevalent. 

   I set my cup in front of my seat, turn away from him. "Look for yourself," I say as I pull up the back of the shirt revealing my bed shorts. 

  "Damn," he groans. "So close." He tosses a wink as I sit back in the chair. 

  "So, what's the plan for the day?" I ask as Chris dishes up a piping hot cinnamon roll, placing it in front of me. 

  "You and Laura are getting pampered starting at noon. I'll pick you up from their house if that's alright with you."

  "Why can't I just get ready here with you?" I really want to ask why it feels like he's wanting to get rid of me, but I'll keep it more simple and less abrasive. 

  "I wanted to treat it like a real date, and to do that I need to pick you up from somewhere other than the bedroom."

Simple enough answer, I'll leave it at that I suppose.