He'd given up counting after the twenty-eighth time they'd fallen. Tina could only giggle helplessly into one hand as she sat on the ice (because, really, this was getting rather ridiculous) while her other hand remained clasped tightly in Newt's grip. He'd somehow managed to stay upright this time, though he wasn't sure how long that would last with his own laughter making his legs weak.
Pickett, who had taken refuge with Tina after a particularly spectacular tumble on Newt's part had sent the bowtruckle flying, stroked her cheek worriedly. She reassured the little creature as Newt carefully helped her to her feet, his skates braced against the ice as best he could. They were both pleased by how little they wobbled during the process. Their success didn't last long.
Queenie and Jacob completed a graceful turn just in time to witness one of Newt's skates get caught in a rut and go in a direction he had not planned. Defeated, the couple simply lay where they landed as a fresh wave of giggles overcame them, hands still clasped. Jacob remarked that they would probably keep their balance better if they would let go. Queenie shushed him with a kiss.