Martin McGuinness and Peter Robinson in the centre of political Washington this week were a sight for sore eyes, writes Fionnuala O'Connor.
For those already desensitised by the simultaneous smiles of McGuinness and Robinson's leader, the duo on the Capitol steps was an intriguing novelty.
In public, the DUP's deputy leader does not smile easily. Having spent his adult life in the shadow of Ian Paisley, he knows better than to compete on personability. The general perception is of a chilly being with legalistic skills, intent on making his party the lead player in unionism and the new Stormont. The Robinson history suggests no zest for risk-taking. He will hardly match McGuinness grin for grin in the US - but who can? Turning up in America with Sinn Féin's deputy leader is enough. Robinson did not need to add, as he did, that they had been working together for nearly two months "and we haven't had a row". For many just the sight of DUP and Sinn Féin together begins to relegate the bad days and suggests the first hint of mutual trust. Put the two against a US backdrop, and you have history refocused on the hoof. With a flicker of leftover questions.
The Washington jaunt is designed partly to support the constant search for investment, its showcase a display of touristic attraction at the annual "folk tradition festival" in the august Smithsonian museum. The sales pitch was launched on St Patrick's Day. In an elongated imitation of Dublin's annual official exodus, almost half the total team of Stormont Ministers - three DUP, two Sinn Féin, one SDLP and one Ulster Unionist - are now whizzing in and out of the US inside a fortnight. Back in Stormont, the Alliance Party said too many had gone travelling: Alliance has no ministers.
The day after that Capitol sighting, DUP Enterprise Minister Nigel Dodds - given to voicing more unease at the party's new situation than Robinson - swatted the "outdated rhetoric" of a New York congressman's complaint at the Orange Order's Smithsonian display. Sensible people would not allow elements in Irish America "drag us into the past", said Dodds.
First Minister Ian Paisley might have been on the US tour if not for a prior engagement, to commemorate the first World War carnage at the Somme. His latterday "grand old man" style sits well with such occasions, as with Westminster setpieces such as Wednesday's farewell to Tony Blair. But he might have entertained a few qualms about Washington alongside the Deputy First Minister, in spite of their jovial public appearances at home.
In the company of American fundamentalists the DUP leader long ago staked out one stretch of US territory, the Bible Belt. There were big deterrents beyond that sphere.
The States have not been easy territory for unionism. For more than two decades, John Hume was the Irish politician with most influence in the US, and the wider world. It was one of the achievements that made him so loathed, despite the moderation of his nationalism, by unionists and a slice of Westminster. Hume preached a simple enough gospel. Don't send money to the IRA, he said, do invest in Northern Ireland, and press Britain to make the North a level playing field.
Not so long ago British governments and unionism were agreed - more completely than on almost anything else - on the cheek of Americans who dared criticise the Northern Ireland administration. It may be long enough ago for some to have forgotten. Criticism from other parts of the world was no more welcome but tempers rose fastest when the critics had American accents and names that suggested Irish origins.
Belfast press conferences by senators and congressmen brandishing statistics on employment brought snippy rejoinders about race riots and trigger-happy cops in big American cities. The professed root of the objection was that the IRA used outside criticism to justify their violence, and that Irish-Americans had been big funders of the IRA - this bit was true enough.
At bottom, though, the objection was that Northern Ireland was an exclusively British concern, an internal matter. Therefore external criticism could not be legitimate.
Official White House support for the nationalist-inspired peace process only emerged when a determined Irish-American campaign recruited candidate Bill Clinton. Following Clinton's lead, American envoys have worked hard to demonstrate even-handedness. The Troubles were well alight before Britain accepted the goodwill of Irish governments, and their right to be interested. It took longer to recognise that Irish-Americans might well be impartial.
The Stormont Ministers on the US trail follow successive waves of Northern emissaries with new stories since 1993 and the lead-in to the first IRA ceasefire. The buzz of those earliest conferences may have gone, but the idea of Peter Robinson and Martin McGuinness on Capitol Hill together still has a ring to it.