Author: Trowa B
Notes: Whoops, I comment ficced again...
Summary: A white lie is preferable to smiting. No, really...
Castiel loves humanity, just as he loves all of Creation. Loves them and is fascinated by their daily actions, both good and bad, born as they are from free will.
And he does love them, but right at this moment, he also kind of hates specific parts of it too. But that's okay. He's heard that love and hate are the same thing but twisted slightly differently, and he feels certain that once the immediacy of the situation has faded, he will be able to look upon this with amusement.
"You know," he says, smiling gently at the old man with the twinkling eyes, "I hear that God likes Sherbet Lemons. Mayhap he also enjoys Lemon Drops?"
The man pauses briefly, then straightens. "Capital!" he says, marching off.
Castiel watches him go, the frustration from the situation already easing, right up until he feels the weight of regard on him and he turns.
"Metatron," he murmurs, sketching an obeisance.
The Voice of God attempts to frown at him. "That was not appropriate," he says, but the attempt at sternness is obliterated by the twitch of lips that is trying to become a smile.