Our Lady of Fandom, Thursday morning

[scruffnfeathers]

Mildred, the woman who came to clean the rectory on Tuesdays, had helpfully informed Castiel that, as the new religious leader, he'd be expected to give sermons. She hadn't mentioned that these traditionally happened on Sundays, so Castiel had decided to live up to his given title and give them on Thursdays

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[cutsthestrings]

...she'd decided to come to the church to see how things stood with the island's other, probably-not-Fallen angel. The song, however, was, uh--

"Nice," she complimented him as she found him out in the graveyard.

[scruffnfeathers]

"Entirely inappropriate," Castiel pointed out. "That was . . . not the planned sermon."

[cutsthestrings]

She shrugged.

"I kind of assumed. But it's happening all over."

Thankfully, she didn't seem to be effected, so maybe it was something in the water! Possibly.

[scruffnfeathers]

Castiel didn't drink water. Not unless someone happened to remind him that his host body might appreciate the occasional hydration.

"I hope this will not put you off returning for later services."