The Only Exception

Push down, turn to the left, drop pill.

It was a cycle that Sunday was well acquainted with. From a very young age she could remember her mother handing her the oblong objects from the orange bottles. Mrs. Phillips had always insisted that they were good for her. Even after fifteen years of medication, Sunday hadn't quite decided for herself whether they were helpful, and frankly, she was too afraid of what she'd be like without the pills.

Sunday collected the five pills in her palm and walked won into the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. Since arriving at the Gaskarth home, she had been discretely taking the pills in her bathroom; however, the house was empty today, and Sunday felt that she could afford to get herself a glass instead of trying to drink from the faucet of her sink.

She had been wrong. As soon as she had filled the glass halfway, a voice chirped, "Hey, Sun!"

Frightened, Sunday dropped the pills and spun around. "Oh, hey Melanie," she replied with a forced smile. "I was just getting a glass of water." She turned around and hurriedly scooped the pills from the sink back into her hand.

"Everything okay?" Melanie asked as she joined Sunday by the sink.

Sunday's hand began sweating, and she could smell one of the uncoated pills. "Yeah," she insisted, trying to walk away from Melanie.

The latter was no so easily discouraged though. "Do you have a headache?" she asked as Sunday hurriedly tossed the medicines into her mouth.

Sunday bit her lip. "Not quite," she admitted, "They're just... stuff that one of my doctors tells me to take."

"For what?" Melanie asked, looking concerned.

"Oh," Sunday shrugged, "A vitamin. One for depression, one for anxiety, two for a bipolar disorder." She concentrated on drinking her water.

"Have you, you know, told Alex about all this stuff?" Melanie questioned.

Sunday shook her head. "He knows that I go to a psychiatrist, and it may have come up once that I take medicine, but I haven't explained anything," she replied. She hesitated before she added, "I just don't want him to think differently of me, you know?"

Melanie laughed. "Sunday, I don't know if you've noticed, but Alex is completely enthralled by you. I don't think his opinion would change if he found out you were a closet puppy murderer," she countered.

"That's awful," Sunday chortled. She dropped to her knees and beckoned to her newest friend, Alex's papillon. "Isn't that awful, Sebastian?" she asked as the dog skittered across the kitchen floor and laid down by her so that Sunday could pet him.

Melanie opened the fridge and began riffling around, looking for something. "Isobel said that she made us food," she told Sunday. "She and Peter are out looking for a new couch for the den downstairs. They'll probably be gone all day, because if I know them, Peter will want a chair to match." She pulled a bowl from the fridge and glanced at it's contents before deeming it a worthy meal and inserting it into the microwave. "Hey, where's Alex?"

Sunday pulled Sebastian into her arms and kissed the top of his head. She missed Pepe. "Jack made him go Christmas shopping," she answered. She released Sebastian before she took a seat at the counter. "I think he's getting my present today, because he told me I couldn't come," Sunday confided with a smile.

"What are you getting him?" Melanie asked as she began scooping chili into two bowls. "Do you like cornbread?"

Sunday wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "I have no idea what to get him," she frowned into the bowl of chili that had been placed before her. "He has a dog, a car, shoes in every color imaginable, an iPod, a phone, every CD known to mankind."

Melanie laughed. "A car? Good to know you don't limit your Christmas spending. While we're on the subject, I'd like a yacht," she grinned, batting her eyelashes.

It was Sunday's turn to chuckle as well. "I just want to give him the best gift ever," Sunday explained, "He's always doing really amazing stuff for me—like taking me shopping or just listening to me ramble every day—and I want a really good present for him that's kind of like a thank you."

"Hmm." Melanie adopted a pensive expression. "I can't really think of anything that Alex has ever really wanted," she admitted, "I mean, he's wanted to go shopping for his house, but he's never gotten around to it."

Sunday's face lit up. "He has a house?" she asked, "He's never mentioned it."

"Yeah," Melanie nodded, "he bought it a couple of months ago, the last time he was home, I think. It's pretty much empty though."

"That's perfect!" Sunday exclaimed, "My mom knows a million interior decorators that I could talk to! You'd help me too, right?"

Melanie laughed. "That would probably be the best present he's ever gotten," she agreed. "Albeit expensive as fuck."

"But you'll help, right Mel?" Sunday pressed. "And Jack. I want Alex to love it."

There was a moment of silence while Melanie thought about the idea. Finally, the blonde girl grinned. "I'll help you look around," she agreed. "Alex would love to not have to live at his parents' house when he comes back to Maryland." She hesitated, studying Sunday, as she poured herself a glass of water. "Maybe we can make it a place for both of you to stay at?"

Sunday smiled as she thought about returning to Baltimore with Alex. "I hope so," she admitted, "But we've only been dating for two weeks. I don't want to get too invested in it."

"Oh, please," Melanie scoffed, "I've never seen Alex look at another person the way he looks at you."

Sunday was saved the trouble of thinking of a response when the front door opened, and Alex called, "I'm home!" A minute later he walked into the kitchen, his arms laden with numerous shopping bags and wrapped boxes.

"Let me help you," Sunday offered, dropping her spoon and sliding off her chair.

"It's fine," Alex declined, taking a step away from her. "I'm just going to run upstairs and put everything down. I'll be back in two seconds." He gave Sunday a quick kiss (which she, admittedly, used as an opportunity to sneak an unsuccessful peak into the bags) before retreating up the stairs.

Sunday sighed and pushed the chili in her bowl around with her spoon. "What if this isn't a good enough present for him?" she asked, suddenly unsure of her idea. "I just don't want to disappoint him."

"Disappoint who?" Alex inquired as he draped an arm around Sunday's shoulders and took a drink from her glass of water.

"Uh, Sebastian," Sunday lied as the dog nudged her foot with his wet nose. "I mean, if I don't get him the best Christmas present in the world, he might just start hating me."

Her boyfriend's face contorted into an expression of absolute dismay. "That can't happen," he insisted, "because if my dog hates you, I mean, we'd have to break up."

Melanie grinned. "Don't worry. Bastian's going to love Sunday's present," she declared as she placed her now empty bowl in the sink. "I'm going to go home and throw some things in the wash. See you later, lovebirds."

As soon as their blonde friend had left the kitchen, Alex leaned forward and kissed Sunday much more forcibly than he had when he first entered the kitchen. "What'd you get me for Christmas?" Sunday inquired as she pulled away from him.

"What makes you think I bought you anything?" he teased her. "Today was all about Christmas shopping for me."

Sunday rolled her eyes. "I think I know you pretty well by now," she smiled. "And if I'm correct, there are a few things in your bedroom that have my name on them."

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," Alex smirked as he picked up an apple from the fruit bowl on the island.

A thought formed in Sunday's head. If she had an idea of what Alex got her and had the chance to take a peak around his bedroom, it would help her gift immensely. Then she would know what kind of feel Alex's house needed and how much she could spend; she wanted decorations as well as furniture, but she needed to know whether she would be spending an exorbitant amount in comparison.

"I'm going to go use the bathroom," she declared as she slid off the chair. "Be right back." Then before Alex could ask any questions, she raced up the stairs and started down the hall, intent on Alex's room.

But as her hand reached the doorknob, a pair of arms closed around her waist. "I don't think so," Alex countered, his grin evident in his voice, as he pulled her away from the door. "You have your very own bathroom that is probably cleaner than mine anyway."

Sunday squirmed against his hold and tried to stop him from leading her towards her room. "But I'm out of toilet paper," she lied, "I need to borrow some from your room."

He ignored her and opened the door to her room. "I'm not telling you what I got you for Christmas, and I'll hide everything at Jack and Rian's if I need to," he told her as he dropped onto her bed.

She struggled against his hold again. "Pretty please?" she asked, "With sugar on top?"

Alex shook his head. "Nope," he countered. "You have seven days to wait. You'll survive, I think."

"If I don't, you're going to feel awful," Sunday pointed out with a serious expression.

"I'll take my chances," he decided.

She sighed deeply. "All right," she conceded, tossing Alex's arms away from her torso. "I give up. You win. I won't look at any of my presents."

"I love that I can actually believe you when you say that," Alex chuckled. He kissed Sunday's hand. "I love you."

Her irritated expression faded, and she smiled. "I love you too," she beamed, "but right now, I need you to leave. I have some very important, top secret phone calls to make." She smirked at him, glad to see that he looked just as annoyed about her secret phone calls as she felt about the presents sitting in his bedroom.

"Fine," he agreed, getting out of bed. "Jack wants to go out for Mexican tonight. Is that okay?"

"Yeah," Sunday nodded as she collected her cell phone from its place on the nightstand. "Shut the door behind you." His frown only widened her grin.

Although Alex considered listening at the door, he gave up and went downstairs to find some food. One of the things that Alex hated was when there was no one around to cook dinner. When they were at Zack's, Rian could usually throw together something that was surprisingly good; when they were touring, they usually stopped somewhere so Alex could get a balanced meal. That or Matt threw something into the microwave. Still, rarely did he have to provide food for himself.

As nothing in the fridge had sounded appetizing, Alex had decided to call the first place that came to mind, which happened to be Pizza Hut. A full sixty minutes later, he was sitting on the couch in the living room with the box taking up the cushion next to him. It was half empty, all courtesy of Alex as Sunday was still making her phone calls. The only time he had seen her in the past hour had been when she had practically flown down the stairs and pleaded to borrow Alex's laptop, which he had obliged.

He picked up another piece and glanced at the grease mark that it had left in the box. In terms of food pizza was always his fall back option, and it was a dangerous one due to the fact that Alex could never stop with pizza. Sometimes he swore it was worse than beer.

After a full ninety minutes without Sunday, the front door opened, and a few moments later, Alex was joined by his father. "Did you eat all of that?" Peter asked, gesturing to the box beside Alex.

"There's like three pieces left," Alex said before he burped. He handed the box to his dad and took a swig of his beer bottle.

Mr. Gaskarth sat down on the couch beside Alex and began assisting in the completion of the pizza. "The Ravens aren't doing bad this season," he commented.

"I know," Alex grinned, "Jack and I are always so pumped on Sundays."

"Speaking of Sunday..."

"Oh, here we go," Alex sighed. He took a long drink from his bottle.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch," his father countered, rolling his eyes. "I think she's a lovely girl, really. She's nice, quite pretty, and you seem different when the two of you are together. Your mother likes her as well." There was a pause in which Mr. Gaskarth chewed, and Alex tried to digest the fact that his parents actually liked Sunday.

"There is one thing," Peter added.

Alex rolled his eyes. "Always is, Dad."

"How serious is it?"

There was a moment of hesitation before Alex could think of what to say. "I made an appointment to see some rings at De Beers," he admitted.

From beneath his moustache, Mr. Gaskarth's smile was quite discernable. "I expected something of that sort quite soon," he told Alex, "as does your mother. Though she's concerned that you've been seeing her for such a short amount of time."

"It's only been a couple of weeks," Alex nodded, "but I've known her for months, and it just feels... right. As soon as we worked out the details, everything just fell into place."

Mr. Gaskarth continued smiling. "Then don't let her get away," he advised as he picked up the pizza box. "I'm going to take this outside before your mother finds it. You know how she feels about fast food."

Alex saluted his father with his beer bottle before he tried to catch up on what he had missed in the game. He gave up when Sunday came into the living room, grinning from ear to ear. She fell onto the couch next to Alex and snuggled into his side. "If you don't like your Christmas present, lie to me, okay?" she requested.

He laughed. "I'm going to love it if it's from you," he insisted, "And if not, I'm sure Jack or someone will gladly lay claim to it." He kissed the top of her head, and Sunday closed her eyes.

"Talking to over zealous gay men is kind of exhausting," she muttered as she started focusing on the relaxing pattern of Alex's heartbeat.

Although he forced a laugh in response to her statement, Alex had to frown. If gay men had something to do with his Christmas present, it might really be something to pass along to Jack.