Prompt Post #1

[fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme]

 ROUND 1

FUCK IT WE'LL FIGURE OUT SPECIFICS LATER

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Fill: Spice and Smoke (3/?), haven't decided trigger warnings yet

[(Anonymous)]

****Tail****

Only a few steps outside of the bank’s doors, the Occamy hatchling began to fuss.

Newt sighed, glanced at the small audience that had gathered to listen to the bright-eyed woman from earlier giving her speech (he couldn’t hear quite what it was about, but she seemed angry given the way she waved a hand and her cloche-covered head jerked back and forth). He looked carefully around as he walked over to one of the pillars that made up the bank’s façade, checking how many people might catch sight of him while appearing to simply be looking out for other pedestrians.

Once he was reasonably sure no one was watching him, he sat down on the extruding base of one of the pillars – in plain sight of the majority of the street – and opened the case.

Dougal peered up at him knowingly. That was one of the biggest benefits of the Demiguise’s foresight. He always knew when to be in the workshop to collect something Newt needed to put quickly into his case. That and that he made an excellent babysitter for the rest of the creatures.

The baby Occamy chirped enthusiastically at the sight of Dougal’s silvery hair and slithered out of Newt’s sleeve into the waiting hand of the Demiguise. Thankfully, the little winged serpent had not tried to drag the eleven inches of silver lime wood hidden in Newt’s sleeve with it when it, and Dougal, disappeared into the case.

Newt was securing the last of the case’s latches when he heard unmistakeably approaching footstep. Someone with a light tread. He couldn’t help but wonder which faction had come to size him up this time. So, naturally, he was surprised when he looked up and found a young, blonde girl – whose face was warped with anger – glowering at him.

“Uh,” Newt said. “May I help you?”

That, apparently, was not the right answer. Her little face trembled. “Ma says you’re a bad man,” she said.

Newt blinked. “…Ah,” he replied. “Why?” After a moment, though, he realised that the little girl was probably attached to the unpleasantly abrupt woman who was giving a speech at the foot of the bank’s stairs. Newt twisted part of the cuff of his coat between his long fingers. If he’d been about to make a speech and had a child with him, only to see high level mobsters doing business nearby, he’d have warned the child too.

The case rattled and the little girl jumped backward with wide, horrified eyes. She glanced down at the case and then back up at Newt, all but shaking. “Monster,” she said. Then she turned and ran back down the stairs to where her slope-shouldered brother was watching nervously.

The young man gave him a surprisingly dark look as he placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder and led him away.

Newt shrugged to himself, checked the locks one last time, and got up. If he didn’t get to the hotel and start feeding time soon there was liable to be a minor mutiny …probably led by Pickett.

Masseria’s car had driven off by the time Newt passed the place where the watching made-man had stood. If Rothstein – or Masseria, for that matter – had left anyone else to watch, the British wizard realised somewhat belatedly, his blue coat would make him reasonably hard to miss. It wasn’t a terribly obvious colour, but it was brighter than what most of the Americans were wearing. Anyone intent on following him would not have much trouble.

One block later, he was sure he was being followed.

Newt took care not to change his pace, allowed another block to pass, and then walked into a side street and turned around.

The follower turned the corner, took two steps forward before she realised what she was seeing and jerked backward with a gasp just in time to avoid a collision. One grey-coated arm went toward her chest as she pressed a hand over her heart.

“Who do you work for?” Newt asked. He took care to keep his tone and posture neutral. He preferred to speak quietly and hold himself slightly at an angle so as to appear more harmless, but for this a straight on stance and measured volume were more appropriate.

The woman, still breathing heavily from the shock, blinked at him in confusion. She clearly wasn’t Italian – possibly a Jew, but it was impossible to be sure. She was faintly pretty, but still too plain to be a honey trap.

“MA-MACUSA,” she answered, still wrong footed. Then her eyes widened as she realised what she’d said. One hand went toward her hip – seeking a wand, no doubt.

“Grindelwald,” Newt began, watching her freeze when he mentioned the name, “and his followers have been causing havoc across the globe, so I can understand some level of security. However, I do not see why MACUSA would feel the need to set a tail on someone whose brother holds an Order of Merlin – especially as the only possible reason to be suspicious you could have is my association with one Leta Strange. Who, I should point out, was forced to abandon her family name after the more conservative Lestranges struck her from the family tree for being a ‘muggle-loving embarrassment’. Or has it simply become American policy to stalk every traveller from the moment they get off the boat?”

The woman, whose hand had fallen away from her wand-holster, had been opening and closing her mouth in shock all through Newt’s rather impressive speech. (At least, Newt thought it was rather impressive. He hadn’t stuttered or stumbled once and had actually managed to be concise and to the point.)

Finally, she winced and wrung her hands. “Please don’t tell my boss about this,” she said.

Newt blinked. That was unexpected. He tilted his head to the side and felt his posture drop back into its more normal, slightly hunched and unthreatening form.

The woman sighed and pulled out a small wallet containing her official documentation and offered it to Newt. “I’m sorry,” she said, her accent thickening with emotion. “I didn’t even know you were a wizard. That woman from the Second Salemers,” she explained, “she doesn’t treat her kids right. When I saw Modesty running away from you and how upset Credence looked.” She sighed again. “I’m not officially supposed to go near them. There was an incident last time I tried to help. I was just …worried.”

“Just being a good Samaritan,” Newt murmured in reply. He hadn’t been made, he wasn’t about to be forced into a third impromptu business meeting, and hopefully the witch was too embarrassed about the whole situation to detain him overly long about the paperwork. “You work in the wand registry?” he asked, although her papers clearly stated it was so. “Any idea why the request I put in for a traveller’s license three months ago hasn’t come through yet?”

The witch groaned. “I’m new to the department and right now I’m the only one there. There’s so much paperwork,” she babbled. Then, having regained some composure, she added, “Look, I can take you over to the Woolworth building and get it sorted for you before my lunch break ends, just please don’t-”

Mention this to my boss, was obviously where the statement was going.

Newt smiled awkwardly, glancing one more time at the paperwork. “Consider it forgotten,” he said as he gave her the documentation back, “Miss Goldstein.”