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In the world of sentient buildings and haunted foundations, everyone knew everyone else to some extent.
Some buildings, like the Louvre, or Arkham Asylum, had reputations that preceded them. The House of Mystery was one such building. He was magical, it oozed from his foundations and clung to his walls like a coat of paint. He wasn't well maintained by his human, but he kept himself together just fine, having a kind of autonomy most other buildings could only dream of.
Others, like the Fenton Townhouse, were well known in smaller circles. The residence's cross between small town home and mad science lair was off putting and memorable. They were friendly enough, but once the House of Mystery struck up a conversation it was clear as day that they were smitten with him.
Outside observers chuckled, watching relationship go from neighbors to renovation.
"Mystery!"
The older sentient house hummed. "Yes?"
"My residents blew up the kitchen."
"Again?"
"Again."
"You're asking me to make it better."
"Please?"
The House of Mystery chuckles, shifting to face the Fenton Townhouse. "Alright, come here then."
On the House Network, time moves both agonizingly slow and mind meltingly fast. Residencies could feel like eons, but a single night spent entwined with another ended in the blink of an eye.
The House of Mystery's halls ached every moment he spent in his own frame, stationary and unable to turn, to physically reach out and touch like he was so desperate to do. He shifted furniture to the left, and Constantine left him to his own devices once more.
In the early days, he reveled in seeking out the fascinating townhouse, an amalgamation of magic and technology, quickly becoming more machine than house but still remaining a home. They were an enigma, drawing him in like a moth to flame.
"So, how did you develop so...quickly?"
"My residents are interested in ghosts, as a science."
"Magic can't be 'scienced', that's ridiculous-"
"I dunno, I'd say the results speak for themselves. They're doing something, and I have sentience because people died within my walls."
"Death, ghosts...It's all magic, Fenton."
"A hundred years ago, you would have said portals were much the same."
"They were."
"Science and magic should compliment each other, I think."
"You're becoming more science than magic."
"You're still here. Clearly, it doesn't bother you as much as you claim," the Townhouse giggles.
"Oh, shush."
"Never, you'd miss me too much."
The magic house stayed silent at that, nudging the other in the side playfully with a small spark of lightning.
"AH!"
They were right, he'd think later. He wasn't sure what to do with that. I would miss them.
To the outside observer, it was like watching an eclipse. Two beings coming together in cosmic alignment, a strangely well-suited pair.
"What were they like?"
"Kind, so far as I knew."
"What happened?"
"My wallpaper was ruined, to say the least. And it got replaced with a weird yellow print."
"You hate it."
"I liked the old paper better, but I've grown attached."
"I could..."
"You could?"
"Do they use the attic?"
"Not now, no."
Unbeknownst to the Fenton couple, the original wallpaper pattern found it's way onto an unused wall, hidden from view in the attic.
The house adored it, an homage to their origins.
"I'm thinking about renovating," the Fenton House said one day, out of the blue.
The House of Mystery stilled. "Oh?"
"I've been around long enough, and there's this lovely brownstone that I've been talking to as of late. It seems like she and I hit it off."
"You did, did you." Mystery replies flatly.
Fenton looked away.
Later, the House of Mystery has to squash the satisfaction he feels when it doesn't work out between the nice brownstone in Chicago and the Fenton Townhouse. It's unfair, but he's glad his neighbor is still his. He's the one they seek out the most, and the relief is like a spring cleaning.
Time passes, and they continue to meet, to talk, to share their stories.
Then the Fentons have Jazz, and the Townhouse changes yet again.
It comes out of nowhere.
"Maybe one day, I can have an addition like them."
One sentence, said so offhandedly, so out of the blue, so in character.
'Maybe one day,' he repeats to himself. He's never thought about it, but it's appealing.
"You'd need a damn good renovation for that."
"I would," Fenton agrees, staring into the middle distance. "I would."
The Townhouse's words send both residences into a confusing spiral, and both throw themselves into focusing on the physical world. In Amity, the Townhouse watches over the newborn Jasmine in her crib, sending a small breeze to spin her mobile when she's meant to be asleep.
The girl delights in it, making strange wheezing growls with lungs unused to air and clumsily grabbing for the walls.
The Townhouse falls in love with the little girl that day, and looks longingly at what the Fentons have that their eyes wander from so easily. It's fine though, they can look after the little girl.
There's no need to babyproof a house when the house has a will and an affection for said baby.
The House of Mystery, meanwhile, couch-surfs to keep his mind off of things, but quickly stops because it makes him feel like shit. It's hard to be an attentive lover when the only house on your house-mind is the weird home of science that chatters on about the simplest things.
Like microwaves, and how not to explode them.
They dance around it for a while, eying the other, debating if it's worth taking the risk, worth investing in something so monumental.
In the end, the House of Mystery bargains with a leprechaun's lair for a bit of luck for the day, and breaks first.
"How would you feel about renovating with me?"
Fenton looks surprised, but it gives way to wary glee. "I'd love to, Mystery," Fenton reaches out to touch Mystery. "Only if you mean it."
"I do, I really do."
"Then yes, I would love to renovate."
The House of Mystery reaches back, letting his magic wrap and settle around them. "I'm glad," he whispers, leaning closer. "I'm really glad I met you."
"You make me feel special."
"You are. You're different and I love it."
The two houses wrapped around each other, and for once things started to feel right.