"Wait." Sam sat down across from him, hitting the seat with a thud. "You're not...Chuck?" It was becoming more and more evident that this wasn't God. But it was fucking surreal how much he looked like him. Talk about 'made in the image', Sam thought with a sigh.
If Fenway knew the guy and would vouch for him, that might put Sam's concerns at rest. But even so. Who was more of a chameleon than God? Gabriel might be the absolute best at blending in and hiding in plain sight, but God was...well, God.