More like, 5 times Graves talked to Newt's creatures and one time he told Newt he could, but I hope it's okay! If anyone else wants to write this, they should! argh why am I starting this when I have so many wips already.

1.

"You handsy cocksucking son-of-a - "

"Don't be rude," Graves says, swiping up the last of his silver pens from the Niffler's pouch. He's rewarded with a stream of invectives that make him grimace, and shakes the little menace again for good measure. A stray sickle falls to his desk. "Good lord, was your mother a Jarvey?"

The Niffler's mouth closes abruptly and it treats Graves to a suspicious stare. He sighs, still holding the Niffler at arm's length by its feet, and wonders about the easiest way to summon Scamander. "You wouldn't know where Newt Scamander is, would you?"

"That motherfucking gold-stealing bastard - "

"Never mind," Graves says, giving the Niffler a dark look. He transfers its feet to one hand as he grabs his pen and opens his memo pad, which is when his office door slams open in a brightly-coloured whirlwind.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Graves, but I seem to have lost - "

Scamander's voice trails off, his eyes wide and his face flushed, as he sees Graves and his captive. Graves says dryly, "Yes, you have."

Abashed, Scamander ducks his head and hurries to take the Niffler off Graves's hands; it insults him, his brother, and his entire family line in the process until it catches Graves's sharp glare. "I am really very sorry, Mr. Graves," Scamander says quickly, "but Bandit's a Niffler, you know, and it's just in his nature - "

"I'm well aware, Mr. Scamander," Graves says, staring pointedly at the Niffler, "but if I see that menace taking anything of mine again - "

"Fuck if I won't," the Niffler - Bandit, apparently - grumbles, and Graves grits his teeth.

"I'll watch him much more closely," Scamander says, frowning down at Bandit, who looks up belligerently. "I promise, there's no need for - for anything drastic, he can be controlled - "

Graves looks at him then, at the barely repressed panic on his face, and he closes his eyes and sighs. "Mr. Scamander," he says, "it's your Niffler I'm threatening, not you."

"Hah! As though you'd have the fucking balls - "

"Mr. Graves," Scamander says, looking shaken but resolute, "threatening my Niffler is threatening me. They're - all my creatures, they're my friends, too."

"Piece of shit pushover," the Niffler says, and Graves pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Your loyalty is commendable, but I don't think this one appreciates it."

Scamander's mouth firms. "Even so."

Graves feels himself crumble a little at that look, and shifts his gaze to raise his eyebrows at the Niffler, who wilts a little under his stare. "Well," he says, "I suppose punishment is always an option. Nifflers like to collect, don't they? Maybe a full-body-bind in a glass case, surrounded by trophies or coins or these damnable pens that keep going missing..."

The Niffler lets out an audible squeak that Graves thinks even Scamander can interpret as it ducks into the cover of his arms. "All right, all right," the Niffler mumbles, muffled, "you've made your fucking point."

Scamander's expression is odd, almost surprised, but after a blink he smiles, so sweetly Graves feels - startled, strange. "Um," he says, "thank you, Mr. Graves, I'll certainly keep that in mind."

Graves gives him a twitch of a smile. "See that you do, Mr. Scamander. Was there anything else...?"

Scamander's cheeks flush and he drops his head. "No, nothing, Mr. Graves, I'll just be - " and he scurries out the door, but not before Graves hears the Niffler's muffled: "Coward."

Strange, Graves thinks, dragging his gaze from the door and the swirl of blue coat disappearing around it, and banishes his half-started memo away.