Sunday by Pam Gamble eksphyl@yahoo.com RATING: PG CATEGORY: 100% angst-free MSR! SUMMARY: Oh, just read it. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Barely getting through her doorway, he was met with a partner he would definitely describe as "more than exuberant". She'd hardly been able to contain her excitement on the phone. Since Mulder's normal Sunday afternoons involved nothing more strenuous than shouting at ESPN, he couldn't imagine what she was up to. She'd warned him all week not to make plans on Sunday. He'd made a joke about partying with his nonexistent friends, but she'd just smiled that damn secret smile. What the hell could be so exciting about a Sunday afternoon? After popping up on her tiptoes to taste his lips, she led him to her car. Silently she wound through the narrow streets of Georgetown until she hit Wisconsin, then began mercilessly plowing through gaggles of pedestrians. He watched her, fascinated, from the corner of his eye. He hadn't seen her like this...ever? "What?!" he finally asked, laughing. This happiness thing was contagious. "I can't wait for you to see this." "Can't I have a hint?" She'd refused all week, even in response to his threats of withholding sex. Not that he could have backed those up. Begging seemed to suit him more, recently, since it had tangible rewards. She bit her lip. "Okay. What did I do last weekend?" His forehead creased in concentration. "You went with your friend from college on a tour of the city for 6.2 hours, while I sat home alone." "Your mind is a steel trap, Mulder." "Wait, that was my hint?" "Yep." "Shit." What could she have found on the tourist route they hadn't seen a thousand times before? They seemed to be headed for the National Zoo. Maybe it was mating season and she'd discovered a new sexual position. The thought made him chuckle to himself. "I don't even want to KNOW where your mind just went," she warned. "No, you don't," he agreed happily. Still clueless, he watched as she parallel parked along the road, then glanced out the window to see the ivory towers of the National Cathedral. Didn't she realize he was missing synchronized water polo, or something, on ESPN2? Mulder had nauseating visions of a stuffy old man in a stuffy suit droning nasally about the "ahh-chitecture and the glorious history of"...and felt his eyelids drooping already. Meanwhile, Scully had practically leapt from the car. Sighing, and doing some quick sexual mathematics, he decided being bored to death was well worth getting to play with her later, especially in this mood. Maybe he could salvage part of his Sunday after all. "Come on!" she urged him from the car. Walking under the stone archway into the quiet alcove, they stopped for a moment to adjust to the semi-darkness. Scully tugged his hand, past the predicted well-dressed men eager to answer any question, and the jumble of a couple of small tour groups. To Mulder's surprise, she bypassed all of them. Morning services were long over, but a small informal choir rehearsed in the front of the church. Far from the perfect harmonies and melodies they would present later that week, they practiced, giving their voices free range over the notes before them. Her pace slowed as she craned her neck to look at the gigantic stained-glass windows high above them. He followed her gaze, not half as enchanted with the building so much as her fascination with it. It *was* beautiful, though. Window after window, mosaics of color and light, bright depictions of saints and statesmen. She stopped about halfway up the main nave, turning to her right. "There," she pointed. High on the wall was a window that stood out from the others. Maroon, midnight blue, gold. Two large orbs floating in a sea of darkness, connected only by a thin silvery thread of light. "Wow," he muttered before he could stop himself. She turned to face him, her face flushed with excitement, her voice low and reverent. "It commemorates the Apollo XI moon landing. Isn't it beautiful?" He nodded, still staring. "And right there, in the center? Where there's no light coming through? That's an actual piece of the moon rock they brought back." The rest of the picture seemed to radiate from that spot, just as his entire universe seemed to begin and end with the woman beside him. "It's phenomenal," he whispered. Her free hand drifted down to pat the keychain in her pocket. "It's us," she said. And he immediately understood. Science and faith. Space and Heaven. Knowledge and knowing. Married flawlessly into one beautiful, seamless creation. One tiny, perfect piece at a time. At its center, both a mystery and an answer. It *was* them. Tears stung at his eyes, and when he finally tore himself away from the window, he saw that she was watching him. And she was crying too. "I love you," he whispered, afraid to allow others in on their secret just yet. She smiled, and he pulled her backward into his arms, so they could look at it together. Mulder closed his eyes to press the image permanently in his mind. Tightening his hand over hers, he pulled her gently toward the entryway. Sunlight and traffic pounced on them once they were outside. Reluctant to leave just yet, Mulder sat down on one of the shallow stone steps, long legs splayed in front of him. Scully sat between them, her elbows on his knees, head against his chest. She leaned back, eyes closed against the sun, allowing him to support her, trusting that he would. As Mulder watched, an elderly gentleman wheeled his wife past them onto the ramp that would take them inside. He saw her turn to smile at him, and he knew. That was them, too. If they lived that long, he could see himself helping Scully up and down stairs. Shuffling around their home looking for the glasses he'd left perched on his head. Or maybe he'd be the one who needed help. It didn't matter, really. Whether they were betrayed by others or by their own bodies, for whatever time they had, they would be together. In a telescoping of decades, he saw their future, and knew it was truly "theirs". That vision, the certainty of it, the *wanting* it, was new to him. His arms tightened reflexively around her shoulders, and he buried his face in her hair. Sensing a change in his emotional barometer, she half-turned her face to his. "You okay?" He nodded, leaning in close. "Yeah." He nudged the tip of his nose against her brow. "I guess I just never thought I'd get married in a church." The smile in his voice made her heart sing. "And I think I just did." The End AUTHOR'S NOTES: Yes, it's real. Wanna see? If you can't go there in person, go to www.cathedral.org/cathedral and take the virtual tour.--pam