Chapter Text
Nightingale Detective Agency is not a paranormal Detective Agency. The press are incompetent, for one thing, any decent detective agency is going to have a few strange cases and deciding that warrants branding them as paranormal is just plain silly.
The problem is that once a reputation is established, every wide-eyed believer in a hundred mile radius is going to call in with all of their ghost, aliens and big foots. Big feet? It didn't matter. Crowley was running a very serious REAL Detective agency and didn't have time for all this nonsense, but as much as he might hate it, goofy ghost cases paid the same as all the others, so yeah, he'd taken a few. Maybe he had helped make the bed he was tossing and turning in.
They say any press is good press but looking at his own face in news print next to a beaming Ezra and the large words "Paranormal Detective Agency Moved by the Spirit of Justice" He doubted it. Even worse the freshly mutilated Bentley was visible in the photo.
It looked nice. He knew it looked nice, but nice was not the look he was going for, he was a detective his car needed to be mysterious and inconspicuous. In short, it needed to not be yellow. Yes, the decals were well done, but detectives need to be able to go incognito. Knowing that it looked good and had probably contributed to their recent flux of calls only made Crowley more upset about it. It had been Ezra's idea of course. Ezra would be the death of him.
The soft light of sunset spilled through the window on Ezra, the angel of destruction, who was loudly humming something that sounded like it might be an Abba song and watering the plants. Again. If Crowley had told him once he had told him a dozen times. "They don't need that much water!"
"I'm making sure they are loved and cared for!" The blond cupcake of a man said argumentatively and threw in an unnecessarily sassy "Someone needs to."
"You're loving them to death." It didn't matter, Crowley had already been forced to come in after hours and change the soil to a mostly perlite mixture to keep the poor things from dying of root rot. There wasn't a reason to argue about it.
"They look healthy to me, no thanks to you." Ezra unnecessarily brushed nonexistent dust off of the table to accentuate his point. Crowley, a paragon of self control managed not to roll his eyes.
"No thanks to me? They're my plants."
"Our plants. Our office, our plants. You never water them."
"Why would I water them? They'd have less water at the bottom of the sea."
"I see someone's in a mood today." Ezra said raising his eyebrows slightly and meeting Crowley's eyes. He was near the window and the golden light wrapped around him in a way that made it look like he was glowing, his eyes glistened. It took just a few seconds too long for Crowley to realize he was staring.
"I have no response to that."
"That would be a first." the lines at the corners of his mouth turned down in a little false frown.
"Well, I don't want to be accused of arguing." Crowley answered in mock irritability. Ezra's fake frown disappeared into a delicious smile that made Crowley almost wonder if the other man enjoyed these little arguments as much as he did.
He shouldn't dwell on it. He should have never let Ezra step foot in this office. Although Ezra had sort of come with the office. Ezra owned the building and Crowley rented this office. Ezra had a bookshop but Crowley had never actually seen him open it. Ezra also rented to a cute little record shop, a cafe bookstore, a magic shop, and whatever type of shop Tracy was running. Crowley was pretty sure he was to only one who consistently payed rent.
Ezra seemed quite content to let everyone in the world walk all over him. Except for Crowley, and Crowley wouldn't have it any other way. Ezra was the type of person who would give someone the coat off of his back, only to later say he was cold. Crowley had never offered a coat to anyone and was far more likely to scowl at anyone who dared ask. Yet everytime Ezra announce that he was cold, the scowller gave up his coat. He would never admit that Ezra's good nature might be making him a better person.
Those who didn't know better might have thought Ezra to be a bit naive, but Crowley knew better. Ezra had a sharp mind and a good eye. He was kind, probably a little too kind but his real problem was he always did what sounded like more fun.
A weird found family that couldn't keep up with rent might not make business sense but it certainly made for the better story and that was what mattered to Ezra. Even the types of businesses in residence were determined by his own enjoyment, No one bought records anymore but there was a record shop be cause he liked records, And it didn't make much sense to have another bookshop here, but Ezra liked bookshops, and the magic shop, well Ezra might but it's only customer. Crowley wasn't sure where he fit into all of that but sometimes he hoped he was here for the same reason, because Ezra wanted it that way.
The loud sound of the office phone very nearly frightened Crowley as it pulled him from his thoughts.
“I'll get it dear,” Ezra called from across the office
"Thank you for reaching out to Nightingale Paranormal Detective agency, this is Ezra speaking."
Crowley nearly fell over himself trying to get up to stop Ezra from continuing whatever he was saying.
"Why, hello Adam my Dear boy!" Ezra said raising his eyebrows and giving Crowley a big smile. A prank, Ezra had seen his nephew's number on the caller ID and answered the phone in a way that would intentionally, irritate Crowley, fantastic. Crowley sighed, at least it wasn't a real case.
"Oh my. A real case? Are you quite certain it's not Brian or Pepper pulling a prank? Of course I didn't ask if it was Wendsleydale, you're sure?" In a rare change to his constantly joking demeanor Ezra's lips pursed and he looked concerned. "well or course I believe you, I'm just being sure. Yes. Yes. Adam Dear, what did your Mother say about all of this? Ah, yes obviously."
"Crowley and I will be there don't you worry at all. Yes Dear, of course." Ezra put down the phone.
"Were going to Tadfield."
"Are we now?"
"My nephew is in some kind of trouble."
"To my knowledge that's pretty typical." Crowley had only met the boy once but given the stories he had heard felt sure he could have been convinced that the boy was the antichrist.
"He has received a note from someone claiming to be a ghost and telling him to meet them in an abandoned house in Tadfield."
"It's probably one of his friends pulling a prank."
"Yes, that was my first thought too, but it seems a bit beyond Brian and it's not Pepper's style. He's convinced that it's actually a ghost. His Mother has forbid him from going, so nothing on earth could stop him now."
"Naturally. Isn't he a little old to believe in ghost?"
"It doesn't matter what he believes in, someone sent my nephew a threatening note, and if it isn't one of his little friends, then I intend to find out what's going on."
"Ah, I suppose when you think about it like that it does get more concerning."
"Exactly."
"When are we going?"
"Ah well, Not anytime especially important just around." Ezra whispered very nearly below the range of human hearing. "October 31st."
"Absolutely not. Seriously Ezra?"
"It's just a day."
"A haunted house on Halloween, after I told you no more paranormal cases?"
"Yes, but this is for Adam."
"And you're from Tadfield right? That's a long train ride."
"well I was thinking, that we could take our car."
"We don't have a car."
"Of course we do, it's yellow with lovely little periwinkle decals."
Crowley's groan was loud and long.
It was Halloween morning and Crowley was loading the car for he and Ezra to go to Tadfield to investigate a haunted house, on Halloween. Ezra was standing, waiting beside of the car and wearing, much to Crowley's disbelief, a pair of cargo shorts. Crowley was determined not to ask about it. Ezra was normally very well dressed, perhaps in clothing that was a bit old fashioned but always something nice. It looked out of place, but then again so did the rest of his attire, he was wearing a light blue shirt with flowers that looked like what Americans wore abroad and a pair pf loafers. It just didn't fit together visually and it was very out of Ezra's normal range. He wasn't going to ask. Ezra was trying to get a rise out of him and he was not going to ask.
"What's with the shorts?"
"Ah, wait and see." Said Ezra.
Crowley sighed. He had tried to get Ezra to take the train. He had flat out insisted. He had presented a dozen well reasoned arguments and Ezra had just shrugged and pointed out that riding together would be more fun.
"That's an awful lot of luggage for two days"
"Presents for Adam, mostly."
"Still, it wont leave a lot of room, it's not too late-"
"-to take the train? I wouldn't dream of it Darling, not after all the work you've put in making sure there would be space for me. Besides, this way we can play car games."
"And what sort of games are we supposed to be playing while I'm driving?"
"We could play yellow car."
"The one were you slug each other?"
"Yellow car!" Ezra said excitedly and gently bopped Crowley's shoulder.
"Wait is that why you painted my car?"
"Certainly not." Ezra said incredulously but a smile tugged at the edges of his lips. He slid his final bag into the back of the Bentley and sat down in the passenger seat. "I hope you're ready, I've gotten together an excellent playlist for us. I noticed when I drove the car before that it has a tape player, he said holding up a tape.
"Ah, yes, but the tape player doesn't work."
"I turned it on and it played the tape in it just fine."
"Well yeah, It played that tape fine but the tape is stuck."
It took five minutes of trying unstick the tape for Ezra to realize it was infact, stuck. "Well, I didn't listen long before, what's the tape?"
"Best of queen."
"Ugh, be-bop." Ezra looked a bit dejectedly at the tape in his hand as Crowley was closing the trunk. "Suppose well just have to listen the the radio then."
As Ezra switched it over to radio and Crowley climbed into the car. Ezra tried to find a station, any station rater than a quiet drive. It took several minutes before the sound of a DJ finally cut through the quite that was hanging heavy as Crowley pulled out onto the road " Welcome to the the power hour where we play one full hour of one of the greatest music ever made, this weeks featured artist is Queen and we're kicking things off with Fat bottomed girls!"
Drumming started to shake the car. Ezra considered turning it back down but instead conceded that his fate was sealed.
Ezra sighed. Crowley chuckled. Freddie Mercury sang Fat Bottomed Girls.