This story was originally published on Ao3 on July 7th, 2018 and is being included here for the sake of thoroughness.

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff! Also, one relatively mild swear word used twice.

Newt's head is a warm, pumpkin-like weight in her lap. Tina absently strokes his hair while scanning her newest gritty noir novel — by a No-Maj author, but who's keeping track? — refusing to allow his proximity to distract her as he fiddles with her necklace.

"Where did you get it?"

She starts violently at his softly-spoken words, glaring down at him only to be met with a bashful smile. Newt takes her hand and apologetically kisses her knuckles before smoothing his fingertips over them, drawing senseless patterns as she considers his question.

"My mother gave it to me," she finally allows. "It was a gift for my seventh birthday." She looks at him for a beat while he watches her before adding softly, "That was the last birthday I had with her."

Newt hums and kisses the inside of her wrist apologetically before sighing. "I was only curious," he says, fingers resting lightly on the shiny brass clasp of her locket. "If I had known it would cause you pain, I wouldn't have asked."

Tina shrugs forgivingly before ruffling his hair. "I don't think your British sensibilities allow you to be anything but straightforward when you are curious about me," she says with a grin. "Besides, you wouldn't be you if you didn't have so many 'queries'." She says this last in a plummy, exaggerated accent, laughing when Newt pushes himself upright to face her.

"Make fun of me, will you?" he murmurs while flicking the tip of her nose. "I may have 'queries' but you American's all sound like you learned to speak underwater — and I speak Mermish! Most of you couldn't say 'shit' properly if you had a mouthful of the stuff!"

"Shit," Tina parrots back to him succinctly, and Newt laughs before gently tackling her to the couch, pinning her with his weight.

"You have such a dirty mouth," he purrs chidingly, his eyes crinkled in amusement as he sets her book aside before looming over her.

"At least I don't swear in front of ladies," Tina shoots back, but there's no heat in it. Instead, she's trying not to giggle too hard, a task made infinitely more difficult when Newt nuzzles her cheek with his own before lightly tickling her ribs.

"I would hardly call you a lady," he says teasingly. "That's actually one of the things I love about you, you know. You don't have to put on airs to be remarkable; you simply are ."

Tina harrumphs before crossing her arms over her chest. "I am too a lady," she grumbles, only to snort through her nose when Newt widens his eyes and kisses her. She tries to resist him and his unfathomable pull, but he kisses her again and again until she's helpless but to respond in kind, the occasional giggle breaking through the seal of their mouth.

"That'll never get old," she muses when they've had their fill, his head resting comfortably on her chest.

Newt snorts. "What, the teasing?" he asks, voice slightly muffled by the lapels of her pajama top.

"No," Tina whispers, suddenly shy. "I meant the...the kissing."

He hums before slowly lifting his head to smile at her, eyes bright. "Well, we could test that theory some more," he murmurs, calloused palm cupping her cheek. "If you'd like."

She does, and reaching for him with a smirk, they do.

Thanks, as always, to Kemara for beta- and proof-reading. Come find me on Tumblr at katiehavok, if that's your thing.