Prompt Post #1

[fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme]

 ROUND 1

FUCK IT WE'LL FIGURE OUT SPECIFICS LATER

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Fill: Would You Stay 1a/?

[(Anonymous)]

Newt Scamander was late, and Tina Goldstein was not worried.

She wasn’t. Really. A man like that- who knew what distractions he might find in such a huge city? No, she wasn’t worried a bit; only mad at herself that she hadn’t had the time to go and meet him at the docks like she planned. She simply couldn’t pull herself away from this case when they were so close to pinning down the traffickers they’d been pursuing. Of all people, Newt would surely understand the importance of that.

But he’d said he would send word when he reached the spot they planned to meet, which was safely away from the MACUSA headquarters, where he and his infamous case might be recognized. There had been no word, and she’d thought he would surely reach their meeting spot by mid-morning.

That was hours ago.

Okay, so she might be a little worried. But Newt was a grown man; he could take care of himself. He’d been doing so for years while hunting down deadly creatures. There were no creatures in New York City that could give him pause.

None but the ones he was carrying, anyway. But she’d made him promise to take extra precautions with his case this time.

“Ms. Goldstein?”

Tina jumped in surprise, looking up from where she’d been staring into the fireplace in the room that the investigative team shared. She found none other than Percival Graves standing mere feet away, and she scolded herself for not noticing; her mind was far too distracted by Newt’s tardiness.

“Mr. Graves,” she greeted with a tired smile. “You’re looking better today.”

And he was. It had taken them a while to track down where Grindelwald had him captive, and even longer to untangle the web of curses keeping him comatose; it had taken another correspondence with Scamander to figure out that it was only partly curses, and the rest was the potent venom of a peculiar subspecies of Peruvian Vipertooth keeping Graves from waking.

In truth, Graves owed Newt his life twice over.

“I feel better, thank you,” Graves said with a dismissive nod, though his tone held little gratitude. He wasn’t the type to show it, so it was no surprise. “How is the case going?”

Tina sighed heavily. “Waiting on my Aurors to return. I was spotted the last time we caught up with the traffickers; I didn’t want to risk them seeing me again and blowing our cover,” she explained. “The lead is sound, though.”

As if on cue, the door opened and two Aurors entered, looking breathless and frazzled. “Ms. Goldstein, the warehouse was abandoned. Couldn’t have been an hour before we got there,” one of them said, and Tina went stiff.

“And the creatures?”

The other Auror shook his head. “All the cages were empty. Bits of rope lying about. It seems they moved on in a hurry.”

Tina was about to interrogate them further when Graves suddenly stepped forward, staring at the hem of the Auror’s coat. “What is that?” he asked, and Tina followed his gaze to see a line of bright green on the Auror’s black coat.

And it was moving.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she rushed forward and knelt down, reaching out to detach the small, frightened creature from the fabric. Sure enough, it was a Bowtruckle, and if she wasn’t mistaken…

“…Pickett?” she breathed out, and the exhausted looking twig of a thing nodded and started up with a stream of panicked, high-pitched noises. Tina felt her stomach clench in a sudden burst of worry.

Pickett wouldn’t leave Newt’s side unless something had gone horribly wrong.

“Tina, what is that thing?” Graves asked, an edge of impatience to his voice.

“A Bowtruckle. More specifically, Newt Scamander’s Bowtruckle, Pickett,” Tina explained, standing up slowly so as not to jostle the scared creature.

“He’s back in the city? And he’s released more beasts?”

“No, no, Pickett didn’t stay in the case,” Tina said, earning an incredulous look from Graves, and she quickly amended her words. “He has a touch of…separation anxiety? He most often travels in Ne- Mr. Scamander’s coat pocket. He hates to be away from him.”

“Then why is it here?”

Tina looked up at the two confused looking Aurors, and then to Graves, unable to hide the worry on her face now. Because if Pickett had been anywhere near her Aurors, that meant that Newt had been near the trafficker’s hideout.