Finding Crowley

Chapter one

Title: The meeting

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"Sherlock!" John called, "We have a client."

"Busy!" Sherlock grumbled in response. This was, in fact, a lie. He just had no urge to talk to imbeciles. 

"That's a lie and you know it." John walked up to him, "Just talk to him, you've been bored recently."

Sherlock glanced at his friend, "You want to help him." he stated. John sighed.

"Yes, Sherlock. He is a nice bloke, very polite. I think it'd do you good to at least speak to him. If I'm wrong then I'll buy the shopping for a month."

"Fine."

"Good." John walked down the stairs to guide their client to them. The man was sat in an armchair and offered some tea by John.

"Hello." the man offered, "I heard you were the best detective in the world and was wondering if you could help me with a... predicament."

Sherlock's eyes scrutinised the man. He was dressed in very out-dated clothing, kept in top condition. He must care about his appearance. He was a plump man, well-fed. His face and eyes told of only kindness and laughter. He didn't smoke or take drugs of any sort. He worked/owned a bookshop judging by the scent of his clothing and calluses that spoke of lifting heavy boxes. He wrote often, he had barely-noticeable ink stains on the side of his right hand, meaning it was his dominant one. Other than that, he had no family of sorts: dead or unfriendly. Sherlock was intrigued by the lack of information he could receive from this man.

"What's the case?" he asked quickly.

"My boyfriend -Crowley- has been missing for the last week. I haven't reported it to the police, I was hoping I could assist in the investigations."

John nodded sympathetically, noting down what he said.

"I see, how would you help? I don't like imbeciles."

"Lucky that I'm not an imbecile then, isn't it. " the man told him with an eyebrow raised, "You'd be surprised."

"Unlikely, I'm not easily surprised."

"What's your name?" John cut in quickly.

"My name is Aziraphale, but I tend to go by Zira Fell as people find my name difficult to pronounce."

"Aziraphale?" John wondered, "As in the angel of the eastern gates?" 

Aziraphale laughed politely, "Yes, my dear."

"Well, Mr Fell-"

"Zira, please."

"-Zira, do have any details you could inform us of?"

"Ah, yes. Well, he was visiting me in my bookshop, like usual, but I told him to go into the back room because I was finishing up some work. It took me an hour or so, but I finished quite quickly and called him down to go to the Ritz for dinner."

'So he has plenty of money to spend freely.' Sherlock thought. 

"However, he did not respond to my call. So I went to the room to see if he had fallen asleep or something, but he was not there. I assumed he had gone home and I was too embedded in my work to hear his goodbye, but he was unresponsive for the remainder of that week. Not picking up my calls and such. He is unemployed and so I didn't understand why he wasn't answering me. Another week passed and I decided to visit his flat. It was untouched apart from the bathroom, which looked like a meteor had struck it. I left soon after that, but decided to wait for a couple more weeks to ensure that he was definitely missing."

"I see," Sherlock spoke, "I'll take the case."

Aziraphale smiled, "Marvellous. What is your first action?"

John stood up to fetch his coat whilst Sherlock ended the conversation, "We shall visit his flat."

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