Tina Goldstein had met Percival Graves on her first day at MACUSA. She remembered that moment like it had been only days ago, not five years previous. She was an ambitious young recruit, determined to rise to a high position in the government and achieve the respect that came with it. She had no thirst for power.

Tina chooses her outfit carefully: picks out her business suit with much thought, wears her best hat, even puts on a bit of her sister's red lipstick. She looks in the restroom mirror and sees a woman who is classy and professional, not stubborn, unladylike Tina Goldstein. It is a pretty picture.

That pretty picture is ruined only minutes later when she spills a drop of coffee on the front of her blouse while speaking with the president, of all people. Tina tries to use a handkerchief to rub it off, but only worsens the stain. Her reputation as a perfect, prim employee is shattered after only thirty minutes of working at MACUSA.

She tries to button her blazer to hide the stain, but finally gives up with a muttered series of swears. Instead, she tucks a stack of papers under her arm and walks down the halls, her heels clicking hypnotically on the fine tile beneath her, towards the office of a Mr. Graves. At the time he is only slightly higher in rank than she is, but lusting after a promotion for months on end.

Tina supposes she looks rather undignified when she stumbles into his office, winded and already having a rotten first day. He looks up from a letter he is penning, and she sees that he is rather handsome, what with dark, gentle eyes and hair to match. He reprimands her for being late, and she does not miss his pointed look of disapproval at the stain on her blouse. Tina snaps back at him with her characteristic strong will. At first, he looks angry, but his expression softens to one of a quiet admiration. Eventually, he breaks into a tentative smile.

That first day began an era of subtle competition between Tina Goldstein and Percival Graves. Both are desperate to rise in the ranks of MACUSA, but after Tina's first year of working there, it is Percival who receives the promotion. Tina is in such a temper at this news, although it could hardly have been unexpected. Tina is an exemplary investigator, but she is also headstrong and has a tendency to question authority.

She is in such a foul mood at this news, in fact, that she ignores Percival every time she passes him with an uncharacteristic vehemence. Tina tries not to notice about the look of sadness in his eyes each time. She forces herself to push the idea that he cares what she thinks of him far from her mind.

It is one night after she receives the unfortunate news, and Tina is at a bar with her sister. Queenie has convinced her that perhaps a drink or two or three will cause her to forget her anger. "A Bloody Mary for you, ma'am." The bartender says, holding aloft a tall glass. Tina is surprised, considering she had yet to order her drink. "From the young man at the corner table." Tina whirls around to find her secret benefactor and sees none other than Percival Graves. He looks tired, as weary as always, even with a shot glass in hand. When he looks up and meets her eyes, she quickly glances away.

"Who's that?" Queenie askes, her bright eyes twinkling with mischief. She eyes Percival with a judgmental look, then nods in approval.

"A coworker of mine," Tina says simply, taking a sip of her cocktail. She is impressed that he has managed to remember her favorite drink, considering she had mentioned it in passing months before.

"Coworkers don't buy each other drinks." Tina found herself blushing slightly. She supposed it was an apology, of course. It certainly was no gesture of affection. Perhaps it was an offer of a truce, an end to their friendly rivalry. She never would know. Still, as Tina leaves, her sister closely in tow, he raises his shot glass to her with an almost playful salute and a smile in way of apology.

Two years of working at MACUSA, and Tina has finally risen in the ranks. She is still an investigative Auror, but her assigned missions become more and more crucial. It is such a mission that takes her across the continent to Los Angeles, California. When she first arrives by train, her eyes bright and wide at the sight of the bustling city, Percival Graves' hand is on her arm. She remembers how her heart skipped a beat when Picquery had told her who exactly she was working with. That thrill resurfaces again when she walks into that nightclub, her hair pinned up in chic curls and her heels clicking upon the floor. According to their source, the man they are looking for, a notorious gangster in the wizarding world with a habit of leaving a dangerous amount of corpses in his path, will be here tonight. Tina has to keep a sharp eye out for him, but for now, she has to play the part. Tonight, she is a newlywed woman, on honeymoon with her dashing husband in the City of Angels. Tonight, she will dance and she will smile, and sooner or later, she will take down a criminal.

For now, however, she gets to her feet, the bright jazz music playing hypnotically in the background. Percival outstretches his hand in a gentlemanly gesture that would have sent Queenie swooning. Tina, however, is most certainly not the swooning type. Yet she is not above blushing ever so slightly when his hands wrap carefully around her waist. They move in time with the rhythm, and it is not until the song is halfway over that Tina realizes Percival is far closer than necessary. The practical side of her insists that she move away, but for a rare moment, her heart prevails and she leans her head closer to his. She looks up at his face, dark lashes shrouding equally dark eyes, lips curving into a small smile. This, she thinks, is bliss.

It is the night Tina is demoted from her position as Auror to that of an ordinary officer. She is closing to breaking down, but she hides that fact with fury in her eyes. Employees move out of the way as she storms through the halls, all of her possessions that she kept in her office tucked haphazardly under her arm. Thoughts are spinning through her head faster than that nasty hurricane she once got stuck in during a visit to the Caribbean. Why was doing what was right so wrong? She understood that perhaps she had acted in a manner that was rash and foolish, but was that worth her job? Tina had tried to help. Perhaps Percival Graves or Seraphina Picquery could stand by quietly as an innocent boy suffered, but she was not that coldhearted.

Percival Graves appears at that very moment, hair slightly more disheveled than usual. Tina studies his eyes, for after five years of knowing Percival, she knows that no matter how emotionless he tries to be, the expression in his eyes can still be read incredibly easily. She decides that tonight, he looks a tad apologetic.

"I ought to be getting home," Tina says briskly. She wants to hear no apology tonight. If he wants to apologize tomorrow, or hell, for the rest of his damn life, Percival is more than welcome to it. But Tina is in a rotten mood tonight, and no amount of pity or kind words can mend that. She tries to shoulder past him, anger still burning bright in her dark eyes. Instead, he grabs her gently by the arm. Her first instinct is to tear her arm from his grip, yet a crackle of electricity as his hand brushes against her bare skin stops her. Tina looks up at him, and she sees his eyes are desperate, pleading. She relaxes.

"Tina, I wish I could have helped. But this is my job. I have to put that first." All of Tina's anger slowly fades from her mind, replaced by a melancholy. Of course he has to put his job first. She is nothing but a colleague, an acquaintance, perhaps a friend.

"I will miss you." Tina finally says, her voice laced with an unusually sweet note. She is not sure what has prompted this display. Perhaps it is the tears that are threatening to form in her eyes.

A soft smile forms on Percival Graves' face. He looks down at the ground, and Tina could have sworn he is blushing. "Oh, Tina, so will I." He holds her arm for a moment longer, as if there is something he is dying to say but far too afraid. Percival blinks, then bites his lip, still deep in thought. Tina still stares up at him.

Then she pulls herself from his grip and turns away.

The first time Tina sees the real Percival Graves in months, her breath catches in her throat. She is so used to seeing him as strong and invulnerable, not this tired man in front of her. He is covered in fading bruises that the healers could only patch up so much, a thick cut running along his temple. It will surely scar. He walks with a slight limp now, one that makes him seem older than his years. She is convinced that at least a couple more gray hairs have appeared since his capture. More than his physical appearance, however, she sees the fear and the exhaustion in his eyes.

Maybe it is pity which prompts her to run towards him. Maybe it is something else. Either way, she does. Tina finds herself wrapping her arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe to reach. He smells like peppermint, with a hint of cinnamon on his breath. Tina closes her eyes, burying her face in the fabric of his coat. It is a new coat, with blue silk lining inside and an upturned collar.

"He tried to kill you." Those are the first words out of Percival Graves' mouth. His voice is lower than she once remembered, huskier, perhaps. She tries to remember the last time she spoke to him, not the detestable man that did this to him. Tina knows the full story: how Percival was replaced by the imposter after her and Newt first walked into MACUSA but before she came very close to death. Percival Graves fought off Grindewald when he came calling upon him late at night, but even he could not win a duel against the greatest dark wizard of their time.

"He did not succeed."

"Clearly." With much effort, he manages a wry smile. Tina looks up at him, with those dark eyes she knows so well.

Tina Goldstein kisses Percival Graves on the lips.