(Untitled)

[cheerychaplain]

It's a quiet service, simple and joyful (the latter at least on the part of the man performing it). As usual, Father Mulcahy tries to keep the mass as nondenominational as possible, though he certainly knows his Roman Catholic traditions better than any others; he wears his full vestments and he does offer the Eucharist to anyone who would like to

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[notaphony]

She's never been a regular in attendance at church, but there's something about going to a service on Christmas that draws her in every year.

She comes in a little late after news of it circulating around the bar finally reaches her ears, but finds a good seat nevertheless; her voice is soft but clear during the hymns, and she listens attentively to the sermon, hands gently folded in her lap.

She'll be standing in the doorway after the service ends to light a quick cigarette, attempting to discreetly blow smoke away from and not into the room.

[52_dropoff]

"No offense, but I have it on great authority that can kill you." Ah, yes, the always chipper and cheerful Charlie.

[notaphony]

"You and the surgeon general."

Funny how that doesn't seem to stop her.

[52_dropoff]

"In my case, my information is first hand." At least second hand smoke can't kill him again. (He hopes.)

[notaphony]

"Is it?"

She lifts it again to her lips as she watches him.

[52_dropoff]

"I died from lung cancer about two years ago. I hadn't smoked in years, but that didn't do me any good." If only the Surgeon General could capture Charlie's still-smoldering anger and place it into the warning labels...

[notaphony]

"Really."

There's a part of her that wonders if he's having her on, if this is someone's idea of a joke. But the seriousness, the severity of his tone, would suggest otherwise.

Not to mention she's never exactly come across a truly, for certain, legally dead person in the bar before.

So that takes some adjusting to.

[52_dropoff]

"Really." Pause. "You haven't met any dead people yet, have you?" He ponders what sort of Christmas gift this must be.

[notaphony]

"Not to my knowledge. If they were, they certainly didn't announce it so readily," she admits, with a quiet chuckle.

She glances at the cigarette, as if weighing a decision in her mind, and then quietly puts it out.

[52_dropoff]

"Thank you.

"And congratulations on meeting your first dead person. Which is probably more appropriate for Easter than Christmas." The narration apologizes for anything sacrilegious in Charlie's attitudes. He doesn't.

[notaphony]

For some reason, there's a small part of Joan that finds that increasingly amusing.

She bites her lip to mask a smirk.

"You're right. I suppose the timing is a little off."

[52_dropoff]

"I was never good with timing." Outside of knowing a good time to make his presence known when it was time to stop the crooks.

[notaphony]

"You showed up here early enough, didn't you?"

It's her way of trying to be helpful.

[52_dropoff]

"Which begs the question of whether I came for the sermon." He smirks a bit.

[notaphony]

She lifts an eyebrow.

"Well, did you?"

[52_dropoff]

"I came...out of misplaced nostalgia? Or maybe just because I didn't have much else to do." Which given Sallie Reynolds' invitation is not quite true. "It wasn't a bad sermon, though. He didn't once tell us we're going to Hell."