Newt appears in her office promptly at noon, armed with a wicker basket and a tremulous smile.

This affection between them, prompted by him declaring his intentions upon his return, still feels new and tentative, so Tina blushes when he offers his arm. She accepts it and ignores the whispers and pointed looks as they move through the body of MACUSA. She knows her co-workers have already speculated and gossiped about them; perhaps seeing something concrete will put paid to the more outlandish rumors that have made the rounds.

He Disapparates them to a windswept hill and takes a moment to orient himself before spreading a checkered blanket. He plies her to sit and there, beneath a gray sky, feeds her savory brined olives and sharp cheeses, jam brought from his mother's pantry and crusty bread from a certain bakery. For dessert, there are pastries in the shape of fantastic creatures.

They lie down after they've eaten their fill, feet at opposite ends of the blanket but heads joined together conspiratorially, speaking of things great and small. Tina quickly discovers that, if she turns her head, she could very nearly kiss him; she suspects he has the same realization if the convulsive swallow and reddening ears he sports is any indications.

Her Newt is as restless as ever, eyes flitting over the landscape of her face (and his eyes, she notes, are the same gray as the sky above), occasionally resting over-long on her mouth before darting away, and seeming all together flustered by their proximity. Tina smothers a grin.

The first drop of rain hits her face, and Tina frowns disapprovingly at the sky. Newt's rambling monolog about the impending birth of an Erumpent comes to a fumbling halt. He pulls a wry face when he sits up (Tina taking a moment to cast an appreciative eye over his form, all clean lines, and angles) and turns to her side before flipping his blue coat over them both.

It's tight quarters beneath the wool, so necessity dictates that Tina slings a companionable arm around his waist, drawing herself flush against him. Newt doesn't overtly acknowledge the gesture, and he doesn't fumble or pull away. Instead, as the rain falls around them, he allows her to speak of the various goings-on at work—and if his gaze is a little warmer than usual, more lingering, neither feel the need to mention it. It helps when he cautiously winds his arm around her, and Tina finds the rhythmic press of his thumb against the notch of her waist strangely comforting.

They remain in this tableau until it's time for Tina's inevitable return to work. They separate reluctantly. Newt cleans up the remains of their picnic and shrinks the basket to place in his coat pocket, before allowing her to wear the garment back to work. They arrive at MACUSA a sight: Newt looking much like a bedraggled and drown rat, while Tina is dry and poised beneath his spelled jacket. They manage to make their way through the building with quiet dignity and grace but dissolve into giggles once they're safely behind closed doors.

Newt dries himself with a series of charms and accepts his coat when she hands it over. Tina laughs when his hair dries in a puffy tangle atop his head, and he weathers her amusement with equanimity. There's a beat of awkward silence then, and she can see him debating his options before he moves close and kisses her—gently, as if afraid she'll run away. Tina doesn't flee; instead, she accepts and returns his kiss with equal care. He beams at her when they part and takes leave of her office with typical clumsy asperity.

Tina watches him go, bemused and a little breathless. Then she gets back to work.

Author's note: You can find me on Tumblr (username: katiehavok) if that's your thing. I would recommend seeking me out there—it's the best place to find me if you wish to keep track of my works, and I always accept prompts and requests for Newt/Tina and Newt/Queenie. Thanks, as always, to Kemara for beta-reading and general encouragements.