A/N: Shoutout to a random West Wing gifset about problematic Bible passages that popped up on my Tumblr dashboard around the time I started this chapter, which was far too long ago. Sorry for the long delay in posting and also the lack of link to said post. Hopefully updates will be a little more frequent again now.


Sharon woke up and slowly rolled out of bed, not looking at the clock or reaching for the glasses that sat on her nightstand. When she exited the bathroom, the cloudiness of sleep had been scrubbed from her face and her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. Instead of heading to the kitchen, she reached for her yoga mat, sliding it out of the strap and rolling it out on the floor. She grabbed a book off her nightstand, carefully placing it along one end of the mat where her hands had been unable to coax the edge flat. She turned and rummaged in her drawers for a pair of yoga pants and a sports bra, not bothering with any further attire.

Gently, she removed the book, placing it back on the nightstand and then sat cross-legged on the mat. Closing her eyes, she took several slow, deep breaths. This was how she always started, an entry point meant to ground and center, after which she'd set an intention for her practice. She tried to notice where her body connected to the mat, to the floor, since there was no "ground" on the 11th floor of her building, but all she felt was…hollow. She kept going anyway, her intention for today nothing more than to get through the postures since reaching for anything beyond that felt impossible. It would have to be enough.

She moved to the front of her mat and bent into a forward fold, feeling like a deflating balloon as she let all the air out of her body before inhaling to begin. It had been too long, and even if her mind and heart weren't really in it, she needed this today. She needed to try.

When she got to the end of the sequence, she started again, pushing her tired muscles, stretching herself, trying to focus on the flow of her breath and being fully present in her body. Laying on her mat after a third run-through, she realized it had helped, the buzzing of thoughts in her head reduced to a low hum, more like a refrigerator running somewhere in the background rather than flies buzzing loudly around her ears.

Focusing as intently as she could on each action, Sharon slowly re-rolled her mat and secured it with the strap, placing it back in her closet. She showered, methodically rubbing body wash over her now tired muscles, but careful not to wet her hair. She put on another pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweater, pausing to add a little mascara and some lightly tinted chapstick. Slipping her glasses onto her face and giving herself a final onceover, she nodded. She moved to the nightstand and collected her phone from where it had been charging before gathering her purse and heading out the door.

The sounds and smells of the coffee shop flooded her senses, enveloping her in a welcome embrace and she closed her eyes briefly while she waited in line. It was a Sunday morning and while there was a line, it was still early enough that it was only about half-full, many people picking up beverages or pastries on their way elsewhere.

Sharon ordered and then settled herself into her favorite nook, pleased it was still available. Pulling her coffee toward her, she inhaled deeply. The steam gently warmed her face, and the rich aroma had a sharp, cutting edge to it that she welcomed this morning. She allowed herself a small, careful sip before placing the mug back on the table, her hands gliding over the glaze of the pottery, feeling the texture until the heat became too much. She let go, leaning back in her seat and sinking into a sort of numbness as she stared vaguely in the direction of her mug for several minutes.

Suddenly impatient to feel something—anything—else, she swallowed a large mouthful of the bitter liquid. The pain was immediate, the burning sensation traveling all the way down to the pit of her stomach, settling there in a scalding pool that somehow still wasn't enough to chase away the hollow feeling that had taken up residence there. She sighed and returned the too-hot mug to the table, pushing it slightly away from herself again. She slipped off her shoe and brought one knee up, hugging it to her chest as she looked out the window and finally let the thoughts she'd been pushing away bubble back up to the surface.

It was Sunday. Normally, she would be at church right now, but…she just couldn't. She'd crossed a line and there was no going back. Not now, not after what happened with Brenda. When they had kissed, everything had just…fit. It had all made sense. They made sense. She felt so alive, more so than she had in years—or maybe ever—which was equal parts intoxicating and terrifying. And just like that, everything had changed.

Now, less than 48 hours later, in the light of the Sunday morning sun, alone with herself and her thoughts, it felt like the rug had been pulled out from under her and she was reeling. She'd kissed a woman, Brenda—repeatedly—in a decidedly non-platonic way, and she didn't regret it. Not one bit. In fact, she wanted to do it again. Soon. Repeatedly. Just the thought of it caused the corners of her mouth to twitch and she felt the slight tug as they involuntarily turned up into the hint of a smile despite the mix of emotions she was feeling this morning.

Yes, she could still go to church, nothing was stopping her from driving over there and walking through the front doors, but surely, if she went, they would all know. Surely they would somehow see it on her, in her. And even if they somehow didn't, she would know. Lying and taking communion anyway wasn't something she was even willing to consider, and not ever kissing Brenda again was equally incomprehensible. Going back to church but not taking part in the ritual would be its own signal to the congregation and to Father Stan that something had changed, and that wasn't something she was ready for just yet. So here she was with plenty of time on a Sunday morning, actively not going to church, and feeling a decidedly Catholic amount of guilt about it.

Actions had…repercussions. Sharon knew that, was reminded of it every day. People made choices, took action or no action, and no matter what, there would always be after effects—good, bad, or otherwise. She and Gavin had talked about these specific repercussions, and yet it wasn't until today that she was confronted with the full reality of the recent changes that were taking place in her personal life.

She felt another twinge, the hollowness, felt it in her bones like an ache, the loss of what she'd thought of as her community for so long…but then again, if she could lose them over something like this, were they ever really her community? The shapes outside the window blurred slightly and she shifted her gaze upward, blinking several times in an attempt to clear her vision.

She shook her head, chastising herself for the pity party she was throwing this morning. This was certainly not the first time she'd learned something new about herself. People changed all the time, friendships and relationships ebbed and flowed. That was just life. The people around her would either adapt and accept her for who she is now, or their paths would diverge and they would move in different directions. Regardless of what happened, it would be fine. She would be fine. She always was…

"Well, fancy meeting you here. Mind if I join you?"

The familiar voice cut through the din of the coffee shop and the noise of Sharon's thoughts. Her whole body jumped and tensed at the unexpected sound, missing her coffee mug by mere millimeters.

"Brenda?! What are—oh, um…hi," she stuttered. Her face flushed slightly in embarrassment as her expression softened, the initial shock giving way to a genuine smile that lit up her face but did little to cover her awkwardness.

Sharon was normally a confident, decisive person. What was it about the petite blonde that made her turn into an insecure, incoherent mess? There was just something about her that made Sharon feel…out of control. And that was something to which she was unaccustomed. Even with Jack she'd learned how to mostly stay in control. Occasional angry outbursts, yes, but nothing like this. Her connection or chemistry or whatever this was with Brenda, she'd never experienced anything quite like it. The force of it, that she could lose herself so easily just kissing the other woman—that she was willing to lose herself completely with Brenda—was…unsettling.

A warmth spread through Brenda's chest as she followed the journey of the brunette's facial expressions. She treasured these unguarded moments, savored them like an expensive piece of chocolate. The warmth was followed almost immediately by a pang of guilt at startling the other woman, an image flashing in Brenda's mind of the first time they'd met here. Sharon was wearing a similar outfit, designed for comfort rather than fashion, her hair up in a messy ponytail this time instead of a clip, minimal makeup, but she was striking nonetheless. It was Sharon, after all.

"Hi," the corners of Brenda's mouth curled upward to match Sharon's as she went about making herself comfortable, not waiting for any further response from the brunette. She placed her coffee and the plate holding her customary chocolate croissant in the center of the table and then deposited her giant bag on the seat across from Sharon with a thud before unceremoniously dropping onto the seat right next to the older woman.

"I didn't expect to see you here this morning, but Lily pointed me in your direction," she continued, pulling the coffee and chocolate-filled pastry closer to her. "I thought you might be at church this morning."

Sharon flinched and gave one brief shake of her head in the negative before reaching for her own coffee. When she set her mug back on the table, her fingers still cradling it protectively, she felt a warm hand on her wrist.

"Wanna talk about it?" Brenda prodded, her voice low and gentle.

Sharon let out a heavy sigh and then turned slightly, angling her body toward the blonde. Brenda withdrew her hand and picked up her own coffee, angling her body to mirror the older woman's posture.

"I don't think I'll be going back to St. Joseph's, Brenda," her voice was quiet, but the sadness was clearly audible. "I mean, I suppose I could, but I couldn't take communion and it just…it wouldn't feel right, it wouldn't be the same…"

"It's—it's like returning somewhere after an extended time away and realizing you've had all these new and different experiences, that you've changed, but everything around you is still the same as it was before and you just…don't quite fit back into things the same way anymore…"

Brenda nodded, her brown eyes filled with understanding, with the pain of having experienced exactly what Sharon was describing.

"This is new for me, this…realization, but I can't unknow it. I don't regret…exploring this…whatever this is," she gestured between them. "It's—I want to continue exploring it, and I'm not willing to pretend otherwise. So, no, I'm not at church today."

They sat in silence, sipping their coffee, until Brenda reached over and put a hand on Sharon's knee. The blonde gave it a quick squeeze before returning her hand to her own lap, cognizant of their surroundings and not wanting to make Sharon uncomfortable.

"You know," she began, "it's always been interesting to me that people get so upset with one another about the Bible when pretty much everyone treats it like an all-you-can-eat buffet."

Sharon looked at the blonde quizzically, one eyebrow raised, waiting for her to continue.

"I mean, when you go to a buffet—well, you probably don't go to buffets, but still—how many people actually put some of every single item on their plate? Nobody does. That would be ridiculous and near-impossible unless maybe they stayed there all day. People focus on different things, they pick and choose. They take extra of some things, and pass up other rows entirely. And yet, in the end, the person who made an extravagant salad, the person who only ate Kung Pao Chicken, and the person who spent most of the night circling the dessert table all ate at the same restaurant. They were all hungry, they came in seeking nourishment, they all took in a portion of what was made available to them and left feeling more full than when they came in—at least I would assume so, otherwise why go to a buffet?"

"Anyway," she continued, waving her hand, "nobody throws a fit and tells any of them they can't eat there anymore because they put salad and a brownie on the same plate, or they didn't eat enough vegetables. Nobody forces anyone else to have the exact same buffet experience as them or says that their way of approaching the buffet is the only way to consume what's available. That would be ridiculous when people have different palates, different needs, different reasons for seeking out a buffet in the first place."

"That's what gets me when people start getting all judgy and exclusive about the Bible. There are parts that have wonderful messages, that encourage people to be kind to others, to help those in need, that emphasize the value of community and the importance of love and compassion. But there are also passages and teachings that are…problematic in today's world, and I find it interesting that some of them seem to be so easily overlooked while people get so hung up on the parts about sex and sexuality."

"Would Father What's-his-name be ok if Jack sold Emily into servitude a la Exodus 21:7? I mean, that does sometimes still happen today, but we arrest people for that now. Exodus 35:2 forbids working on the Sabbath and says whoever does should be put to death. Should we turn ourselves in tomorrow or just go ahead and kill each other now? I don't hear anyone calling for their ER doctor to be killed for providing medical care on the Sabbath."

"And what about prohibitions against planting different crops side by side? Are we going to start stoning people for planting a small garden at home because they're growing more than one crop in it or for setting up community gardens to feed those in need because they planted different kinds of seeds in the same bed? Are we burning people for wearing clothing woven from two different kinds of threads? No, we're not!"

"So, if everyone's picking and choosing anyway, then don't even start with me on the sexuality piece 'cause I'm sorry, but that dog just won't hunt. And by the same token, I don't see why you can't pick and choose your way to a church and community that will love and accept you for who you ar—"

Brenda was cut off by the press of Sharon's lips against her own, the warmth of a hand gently cupping her jaw before pulling away. Watery green eyes met brown, crinkling at the corners, a smile spreading across Sharon's features as she sat back and then looked around a little self-consciously, pressing her lips together.

"What was that for?" Brenda asked, startled by the unexpected display of affection in such a public setting.

Sharon shrugged one shoulder, regaining her composure somewhat, and reached for the blonde's hand.

"I had no idea you—Thank you, Brenda. That was exactly what I needed."

"The kiss or my rant?" the younger woman teased.

"Hmm…both?"

"I do aim to please," Brenda replied with a smirk before the growling of her stomach interrupted the conversation and her eyes cut over to her pastry. "You want some?"

"No, thank you. You go ahead though," Sharon replied, squeezing their joined hands once more before letting go.

"You're right, you know," Sharon remarked and Brenda almost choked on her food, failing to hide her surprise at the brunette's admission.

"If it was one of my children who wasn't being fully accepted by a group, I would suggest it might be time to find a different group. A big part of what I like about attending church is the ritual of it all. There's a certain comfort and security in that for me. I used to spend more time with some of the people there when Ricky and Emily were younger, playdates and carpool coordination and things like that, but I guess I haven't really interacted with them outside of Sunday services for years now."

"I may have a conversation with Father Stan at some point," she continued, emphasizing his name for Brenda's benefit, "but I'm not ready for that just yet. In any case, maybe it is time to find a new church community…if recent events are any indication, exploring new options doesn't seem like such a bad plan after all," she added with a grin.

"Maybe one of the Episcopal churches?" Brenda suggested, her mouth still half-full, "Aren't they kind of Catholic-lite or something?"

Sharon chuckled and nodded, "Something like that. Maybe..."

She reached up and wiped a smear of chocolate off Brenda's lip with her thumb. Looking for a napkin and not finding any at the table, Sharon licked her thumb clean and Brenda barely suppressed a groan, her mouth going suddenly dry.

"What?" Sharon asked, noticing Brenda pause while chewing, but the blonde just shook her head, rewetting her mouth with a large sip of her chocolatey beverage.

"I could go with you sometime, if you want," Brenda offered tentatively, steering the conversation back to the topic at hand even as her eyes darted back to Sharon's lips once more.

"With me? To church?!" Sharon barely managed to swallow her coffee in time, surprise writ large on her face.

"Not all the time," she clarified, "Just…to check things out—if you want."

"You would go to church with me for moral support?" The disbelief was still audible in Sharon's voice.

"Moral support, recon, whatever you want to call it. Of course I would," Brenda said with a shrug.

"Oh for crying out loud, Sharon, don't look so surprised," she said, taking in the other woman's expression, "I may not be Catholic, but I've spent my fair share of time in church. I am from the South after all. Besides, it'd be real easy to test things out. All we'd have to do is hold hands and see if anyone shot us dirty looks. If they did, we could just turn around and leave again."

Sharon studied the blonde thoughtfully as she took another bite of her croissant, closing her eyes briefly in enjoyment.

"Mmm, Sharon, this is so good. Are you sure you don't want any?" Brenda gestured to the plate in front of her, but Sharon shook her head no, instead leaning in to kiss the younger woman again. First the corner of her mouth where a piece of the flaky pastry was still hanging, then licking over her lip and sucking it into her mouth to remove another smear of chocolate. She continued, deepening the kiss and Brenda obliged, her fingers sliding up past Sharon's cheek to cup the back of her head, messing up her already messy ponytail.

Sharon pulled back to catch her breath, green eyes sparkling as she licked her lips and smirked at the blonde, "Mmm, delicious." Maybe not going to church wasn't so bad after all…