#im also thinking instead of having to wear a suit to suppress her radiation she has to be wearing a collar. idk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaz3313 · 4 years

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[Ask to be added or removed from the tagglist 😊] @whatever-rat-im-thinking-of @ebonydove35

WARNING: Past Homphobia, Transphobia, and Police Brutality. Everything is tagged but just in case! And always, if you need anything tagged please ask me 💕

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"So... our new lead is in this pastry shop?" Beez questioned as they sat in one of the outside seats. They preferred outdoor to indoor, especially on cases.

This one especially, since The Angel had an intricate set of rules but sometimes it felt like he was contradicting himself. The only true pattern was a brand was always found, but even then they had four cases related to The Angel of unbranded people. One was in pieces and Hastur had pointed out that one of the pieces could've very easily been branded but u

"Well, before he was killed, Hastur figured that it was by another blunt object, he was seen buying a muffin,"

"Alright, so Angel was at the pastry shop-"

"Stabbington,"

"Ugh, you really like this bookshop angel, don't you?"

" Beez you wouldn't understand, he's just- Hey, his bookshop is across from here," Crowley pointed to the sign that said A. Z. Fell & Co. He rose from his chair, heading toward the shop.

"Crowley, you can't go talk to your crush right now," Beez insisted, already shaking their head.

"Well guess who buys pastries all the time, he could be a witness," Crowley was the kind of snake that could get his way while tying it to the case at hand. This proved helpful thirty percent of the time and just a waste the other seventy percent.

However, with this case, the Angel rarely left any leads which meant Beez would allow this without much hassle.

The Bookshop, called A. Z. Fell & Co, would never be a place Beez thought Crowley would willingly go. It looked dusty, smelled musty, and while they couldn’t see very well into the windows they could see all the clutter. It obviously hadn’t been renovated in decades. Crowley knocked onto the nice, old, wooden doors and the two awaited any response.

“Closed, as per the sig- Crowley! Oh my dear, it is so good to see you,” the bookshop angel opened the door and after the initial recognition gave a warm smile. Cheer radiated off of him.

Beez always analyzed a person before they introduced themselves, it saves a lot of trouble. The man definitely mirrored his establishment; a soft, cloud haired, old fashioned (in clothes, style, and posture but Beez knew not in mind), and intelligent person. Perfect for running a bookshop, though, if he so chose, would be well suited as a professor or librarian. His posture was impeccable but he didn’t hold himself as if towered over everyone.

“Good to see you too, angel, and look I brought a friend! This is detective Beez,” Crowley was more enthusiastic than usual but Beez scarcely rolled their eyes. No, they watched the bookshop owner, who’s his blue eyes trailed to see Beez and his body stiffened up. He began to rub his pinky ring with his other hand.

“ I am Aziraphale, owner of this shop. Crowley has told me so much about you, I thought he would tell me if he was bringing company. I’m afraid I didn’t prepare anything ahead of time, I hope you don’t view me as an awful host ” He gave a forced laugh but it had an abrupt end as it had an abrupt start. His eyes darted back to Crowley and he suppressed a pout and instead gave him a smile.

“Don’t worry, Aziraphale, I’m not here to stay long. Just to ask you about the bakery, and if you saw anything unusual.”

“Of course, here come in. I have plenty of room for us to sit,” Almost immediately his nervousness vanished, as if it was a facade. Beez headed in, Crowley giddy beside them, but couldn’t feel at ease. Something did not bode well.

He insisted on making them tea and when he hustled to the kitchen, and out of earshot, Beez leaned into their partner.

“Have you notizzed,” Beez asked, and based on Crowley’s brows furrowing together and his mouth twisting in a not-a-frown-but-not-smirk either showed he hadn’t.

“ What’s wrong?” Crowley asked, his voice a little louder than what they hoped.

“ He waz nervouz when he saw me,” Beez whispered hoping Crowley would catch on without them having to spell it out. Instead he got, irrationally, angry.

“Beez, people haven’t been nice to him his entire life, and I don’t think cops have been on his list of people he could always trust,” Crowley spits out.

“Shush! Voice down, idiot! He seemz real chummy with you, and we all know detectives are different from cops.”

“Don’t get nickpicky with me! And he’s “chummy” with me cause I sssaved him!” Crowley hissed, as often as Beez ‘buzzed’ he’d ‘hiss’.

“You… saved him?” Beez couldn’t remember any case where Aziraphale was involved.

“There… remember Barrison?”

How could one forget Barrison? He’d been an officer for five years and at first Beez only heard stupid little remarks. First it would be about their hair, then their lisp, if they’d found a ‘man yet’, and how ‘no one liked a girl who didn’t smile’. They made it explicitly clear that they were nowhere close to being a ‘girl’ or ‘women’ or whatever other term he used but Barrison hardly listened. It became more than little remarks when he started harassing Crowley for wearing a skirt. As much as Beez was annoyed when someone, purposely, misgendered them they found it much less tolerable when it happened to the people around them. He was a sleeze, and they were sure to remind everyone when he was at the scene or at their department. If his transphobia wasn’t enough, he was horridly homophobic and thought proudly annoancing annoying retoric in front of the forsensic departement was the best idea. Hastur had almost punched him right then and there. Beez tried to get him fired, or at least banned from their office.

He was finally arrested after he was busted for selling evidence but he was found to have many other crimes as well.

Most were assault and battery charges; Beez felt their blood curdle.

“He- That asshole,” Beez said. It was so easy to picture now, so easy to play the scenario like a movie. It would’ve been dead of night and before the bookshop owner knew he’d be attacked. And if he recognized him as an officer, well he would understand there would be very little chance for justice. So, the kind (because based on what Crowley said, Aziraphale was kind and based) man just took the beating. That is, until Crowley showed up.

“He was drunk as ever, no that that’s an excuse but made knocking him out a lot easier. Woke up, thought he’d just passed out, the prick. I found him right outside the shop, kicking a bloody heap. Can probably guess the rest,” Crowley said, he was still seething but not at Beez anymore. “I took Aziraphale inside, I told him that was the last straw. That he’d get justice.”

The point was plain, the bookshop angel was a nervous wreck for reasons that Beez didn’t need to question.

They knew that was a weakness and a strength of thiers. They always expected the worst out of the situation; have a nervous, possible witness, and suddenly he becomes a suspect. On the reverse, it’s easy to see the annoying sleazy coworker become an angry violent villain who only shows his true nature when he thinks there will be no consequences.

“I- I won’t mention it again,” Beez said and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

Back in the kitchen, the kettle almost boiling, Aziraphale listened on. Some of their voices were lost, which meant he’d check out the recordings later, but he understood the gist of the conversation.

Anthony, sweet Anthony, was somewhat right. He did naturally get nervous around strangers, especially because of what that horrid man did to him (he tried not to think of his scars but he failed. The one left from the attack haunted him just like the others from previous incidents. When he remembered the scenario he could also remember the pain-). And he knew the cops would come knocking at his door eventually (fate or perhaps it was Her plan, She had a funny sense of humor at times) but to be seen as a possible ally? Well, he may have detested decievers, but he’d be stupid not to take the chance.

It was bittersweet, he thought as the kettle screamed, Crowley desperately trying to be a part of his life. He just hoped he wouldn’t get hurt- Aziraphale wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he did.

He poured the tea and closed his eyes in thought. He’d have to tread carefully moving forward but The Angel was nothing but careful; that’s why he hadn’t been caught. He was already thinking of a good way to get them poking in the wrong (well, in a way it was right) direction. Possibly an enemy could be taken down and The Angel wouldn’t even have to lift a finger.

London, and therefore his world, would be safe; that’s all that mattered.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens human au #homophobia #transphobia #police brutality #good omens beelzebub #crowley #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #ask to tag #tw blood

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