John

Aziraphale rather liked visiting churches, though he'd done less of it these days. Perhaps a small part of him was afraid that being more conspicuous in God's view might make those Up There decide to start paying attention to him again. And if that happened he was pretty sure they wouldn't like what they saw.

"Mr. Fell," said the priest kindly when he walked into the sanctuary. "How very nice to see you." He was just stepping out of the confessional booth, so he paused and said, "Did you come to take confession?"

Aziraphale blurted, "No," so very quickly that it was probably suspicious.

The priest blinked, and then lowered his voice a little and said, "Just so you know, Mr. Fell, I consider myself a progressive member of the clergy, and you won't find yourself doing hail marys for perfectly natural forms of lo - "

"I just came to sit and pray," Aziraphale said quickly, cheeks turning quite pink.

The priest only smiled. "Well it's nice that you're here. I've been wanting to share a book with you. I came across it recently and thought you might like a look."

Aziraphale brightened. "That would be so lovely. Thank you, father."

The priest nodded, and then shuffled away, leaving Aziraphale standing at the front of the sanctuary.