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The three sitting at the table could hear the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Crowley turned his head to peer out the window behind him, seeing Newt’s ugly blue car pulling up. He’d only seen it a couple times, and he thought it was a disgrace. Crowley smirked at the juxtaposition it made to his Bentley.
He noticed a detail he hadn’t noticed any other time he saw the car.
When Newt walked in and headed into the kitchen, Crowley nodded at him as Anathema greeted him.
“Welcome home, Dick,” Crowley said over his tea.
Ezra gave him a look confused enough to spoil milk, but Crowley just smirked.
“What?” Newt said, in the process of putting his keys away.
“Dick Turpin. I wasn’t aware you changed your name. Is tagging cars back in style now?”
At the mere breath of Dick Turpin, Anathema was giving Crowley a wild-eyed look, gesticulating stiffly that Crowley needed to stop asking. Newt’s eyes lit up like a lamp.
“Oh, no- you see, that’s the name of the car. Dick Turpin,” Newt said, sitting down, “it’s called Dick Turpin.”
Crowley had caught on to Anathema’s gestures. It was so obvious Newt was just begging for Crowley to ask why his car is called Dick Turpin, because it’s such a ridiculous name for a car. It didn’t help that it was penned in yellow window paint on the back of his bright, ugly blue car.
Ezra, ever the oblivious drip, hadn’t caught onto the mutual pact not to ask Newt why his car is called Dick Turpin. Instead, very politely and a little excited (ever the socialite), Ezra leaned over to Newt a bit to engage the conversation.
“Lad, why on Earth is your car called Dick Turpin?” Ezra inquired, eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity.
Anathema groaned, and Crowley banged his fist on the table. Ever the masters of silent agreements, the two were.
“Well, you see-” Newt started.
“It’s a horrible pun! His car holds up traffic! Dick Turpin was a famous highwayman!” Anathema howled, and Crowley burst out into laughter at her outburst.
Ezra was confused at all the emotion, but laughed a little bit regardless at the pun, and how ridiculous it all was.
“Least you could do is let me tell it,” Newt said.
“It would have taken you far too long,” Anathema responded.
“Hey, hey, let’s not fight two months after our wedding, alright?” Crowley cut in, sipping his tea.
“Oh, young love, constantly being annoyed by each other,” Ezra cooed, reaching over to rest a hand on Crowley’s arm.
“You don’t need to be young to be annoyed with each other. You annoy me all the time,” Crowley said.
“Yes, dear, and you infuriate me constantly.” Ezra patted Crowley’s arm, and gave him a doting smile.