A/N: This takes place in the first Fantastic Beasts movie, right before Newt and Tina's goodbye at the docks. This is my idea of how Newt got that newspaper story/photo about Tina's auror reinstatement. Just a sweet little story about these two idiots falling for each other, and how Queenie is an awesome match-making sister. Enjoy!
It was a quiet morning in the Goldstein apartment, with a slight air of sadness hanging over the three people eating breakfast at the table. Queenie Goldstein completely understood why, and she didn't need to be a Legilimens to know why.
Not only did she still miss Jacob terribly, but today was the day that Newt would be leaving to go back home to England. She knew that Teenie was sadder about that than her for reasons that her sister was not quite ready to admit to herself yet. And Newt didn't look too pleased to be leaving today, either. Both of them were more picking at their breakfasts than eating them, and both avoided looking at each other (at least when they knew that the other could see them).
Queenie was relieved beyond measure when an owl tapped on the window, as it did every morning, carrying the daily copy of The New York Ghost. Hopefully the paper could provide a distraction for them all.
Five minutes later, Queenie's prayer was answered. She flipped a page of the paper, saw the story that dominated the page, and let out a delighted squeal.
Tina's fork dropped from her hand onto her plate with a loud clatter as she jumped a little in reaction. Newt jumped in his chair too, choking and coughing on the orange juice that he'd been sipping. "Queenie, what in the world?" she said in annoyance, more for Newt's sake than her own, watching him catch his breath and wipe his mouth with a napkin.
"There's an article about your reinstatement as an auror, Teenie!" exclaimed Queenie with excitement, turning the page of the paper towards her. "Look!"
Tina looked. A moment later, she turned her head with a groan. "Oh, why did they have to put a picture? Much less a picture that big?"
"The readers always want to put a face to the name, Teenie," said Queenie, looking at the picture. Puckering her lips a bit, she said, "I wish you'd have smiled, though."
Tina rolled her eyes, poking at her breakfast with annoyance now. "It wasn't a beauty shot, Queenie. The story is all about me being an auror again; they wanted me to look serious, not cheerful. Besides," Tina paused momentarily, and her tone became a touch melancholy, "I'm not photogenic to begin with, so me smiling wouldn't have been an improvement."
"Oh, Teenie, don't put yourself down!" scolded Queenie. She then turned to Newt, who had remained silent throughout all of this. Holding up the paper for him to see, she asked, "Newt, you agree with me: Tina doesn't take a bad picture at all, right?"
Newt was about as comfortable being put on the spot as a mooncalf was. His eyes widened, and his gaze shifted from the picture to Queenie to Tina and back again as he struggled to think of the right reply. "Oh…um…well, I…uh…"
Unfortunately, his lack of a reply was taken as a response in the negative by Tina. She huffed a sigh to hide her sad disappointment, and spoke to her sister, "Don't put him on the spot like that and force him to lie, Queenie. Let's just drop the subject, ok? All that matters to me is that I have my job back, not whether or not I look pretty in a picture – because I know I don't."
Before Queenie could say anything else, Tina was on her feet.
"I'm going to wash up," she said. "Be back in a few minutes."
She began to walk towards the bathroom when Newt stopped her with a question of his own:
"You're still…walking me to the docks today, right?"
Tina turned to look at him, the expression on her face one of surprise and a tentative hope. "Um, yes, of course. If you'd still like me to, I mean."
Newt nodded. The two held powerful eye contact for a moment more before Tina resumed her journey to the bathroom and Newt looked back down at his breakfast plate. Both had pink cheeks as they did so.
Queenie sighed to herself. Normally, Tina wouldn't have been so hard on herself. Tina had always been modest to the point of denial about her looks, but normally she would have waved off that picture with a laugh. But Queenie had seen the reason for Tina's negative reaction in her sister's mind: another picture, one of a lovely woman, that rested inside Newt's suitcase.
Tina had glimpsed it for the first time a few days ago, and Queenie had told her whom it had been of. The only details she'd told Queenie were her name, that she'd been a close friend of his at school, and that the friendship had ended badly. The whole story was Newt's to tell, and Queenie hoped that, one day, he would confide in Tina.
This past week while Newt had stayed with them, in order to distract herself from her own heartbreak, Queenie had watched the two of them closely. She didn't need her special powers to see what was growing between them – or what was trying to grow. They were so alike, those two, despite being born on opposite sides of the sea. Both had made their lives about their work, and had come to believe that they could be just fine all alone (because they'd both been hurt in the past). Neither had been looking for (or even planned to look for) anything in the romantic line when they had found each other, and now neither of them had a clue of what to do with their hearts.
What Queenie found most interesting (and hopeful) was this: Newt hadn't once thought about Leta or that photo this past week.
If there was one person in this world that Queenie loved more than life itself, it was her sister. And if she herself couldn't have love (at least right now), she was determined that her sister would not let this opportunity pass her by.
But that would need a few nudges here and there, especially now when they were about to have an ocean between them.
So, Queenie folded up the newspaper and put it right under Newt's nose. "Take this with you, Newt," she said, in a casual tone of voice. "It'll give you something to read along the way."
Newt looked up at her, opening his mouth to protest that she hadn't finished with it yet. But Queenie heard the thought and shook her head firmly. So, Newt mumbled a 'thank you' and took the paper, slipping it into the inner pocket of his blue coat.
As Queenie took the breakfast dishes to the sink to wash, she smiled to herself. Newt was a Britisher so his thoughts were harder to listen to than most, but his thoughts had no accent when a certain black-and-white picture filled his mind.
The fact that the picture was not the one in his shed was what made Queenie smile.
One week later
Newt put his quill back in his nearly-empty ink bottle and heaved out a great breath. He stretched his limbs after getting up from his chair. He'd been writing for four hours straight, and his body was screaming for activity. Thankfully, no matter how engrossed he became in his writing, he always stopped when it came time to tend to his creatures.
So he walked from his desk to his case on the other side of the room. He knelt down and undid the locks (both manual and magical now, strict government orders). The lid of the suitcase lifted, and Newt's eyes fell on what he had pasted to the inside of the lid. Not the sketches of some creatures he'd done on the boat ride, nor his boat ticket and pass.
No…his eyes fell on the newsprint photo that he'd put there with a sticking spell before his boat had arrived in England.
Tina's expression in the photo was serious. But when those dark eyes saw Newt, they almost sparkled. Her expression became one of shyness, awkwardness, and tentative affection. A little smile came to her lips as her fingers touched the place near her ear where he'd touched her at the docks.
Looking at her, Newt smiled right back. But he didn't let himself linger; he had to put his creatures to bed. So, he climbed down the ladder with a little smile still on his face.
Really, his lid was the perfect place for that photo. He didn't always go in his shed when he came down here, and the lid guaranteed that he would see it every time he came in or out of his case (which he did at least several times a day).
There was no photo in his shed any longer. After all, he was a one-photo wizard.