I've gone for a good 3+ months with writers block on my personal work, and I could do with some creative rekindling, so I thought some new stories on here might do the trick. Excuse any errors, I pretty much wrote it in one go.

I OWN NOTHING! All credit to the wonderful J.K. Rowling and her wonderful characters.

In retrospect, traveling to London in the middle of the winter had not been Tina Goldstein's brightest idea.

She glanced curiously around herself in the entryway to Newt Scamander's flat, shivering as melting snow dripped from her sodden coat and scarf onto the warped wooden floor beneath her feet. Newt was dashing about in his own wet things, flicking his wand and trying to bring something like order to the chaos of his living space. Tina couldn't say that she had been surprised by the clutter of books, paper, and quills that had greeted her upon their entering; that seemed pretty characteristic of him.

The flat was small-much smaller than hers and Queenie's apartment back in New York. The entryway led into a lounge, which appeared to double as a bedroom with a bed that was slightly larger than a twin-size shoved into a corner next to the window and adjacent to a small bathroom. An unlit fireplace was placed into the opposite wall, flanked by a desk and mini bookcase on one side and a wardrobe and doorway (presumably leading into a kitchenette) on the other.

Tina stepped forward a bit to peer more closely at the books packed haphazardly onto the bookshelves. Most of them appeared to be biographies, and those that weren't looked like children's fairytale books about magical creatures. Despite her freezing skin, Tina's mouth curled into a tiny smile. She briefly wondered if his parents had read the fairytales to him as a child. With her fond memories of her own parents, Tina could easily see how his parents' influence could have sparked his desire to become a magizoologist, and-in her opinion-a successful one at that.

And that was why she was here in the first place, wasn't it? Newt's desire to study the creatures that most of the magical community feared? It was what had brought him to New York, subsequently leading to their meeting and experience with the Obscurus boy and Grindelwald. After all that had happened, Newt had even offered to return to New York to bring her a copy of his published manuscript and to visit. The unspoken implications behind his suggestion had made Tina want to laugh and cry for joy at the same time. But in their letter correspondence following his departure, Newt's descriptions of his life in London greatly piqued Tina's interest, and at his first mention of a publication date for his book, Tina decided to make the journey over to him. In her excitement to explore a foreign city and see Newt again, she had completely disregarded things such as weather and time of year.

Now, as she stood freezing in the entry to Newt's flat, she couldn't help feeling somewhat embarrassed and foolish for her overeager actions.

"Newt, I really could stay at the inn," she said through chattering teeth, voicing once more the concerns she had expressed when Newt had met her at the docks.

When she had told Newt where she planned to stay in Diagon Alley, he had immediately rejected her intentions. "Oh, no. No no no, you don't want to stay there. Worst case of Bundimun infestation I've ever seen," he had said vehemently. His ever-wandering gaze had flicked away from her, and he had swept her suitcase up with one hand. "You can stay at my place."

Tina wasn't quite sure what a Bundimun was, and she didn't think she wanted to judging by Newt's reaction. But she knew she could take care of herself; she had been trained as an Auror, after all. "Oh, I'll be alright."

Newt had shaken his head and stooped to pick up her suitcase. "Really, I insist."

Heat had crept into Tina's cheeks. "But I don't want to intrude."

With slightly red cheeks, Newt had fleetingly met her gaze. "It's not an intrusion." He had ducked his head, a smile quirking a corner of his mouth, and glanced back at her. "It's my pleasure." He had then strode away quickly, leaving a stunned Tina with nothing to do other than quickly follow after him.

At Tina's present repeated concern, Newt paused in his ministrations. He turned to look at her with a troubled expression, his gaze firmly meeting hers for the first time since reuniting. His wand dropped to his side as things continued to sort themselves into a semi-orderly state around the room. "Tina... Are you... That is..." His eyebrows knit together faintly as he chose his words. "I'll sleep on the floor," he finally managed, tearing his gaze from hers.

Tina blinked in confusion. "What?"

Newt turned away, giving his wand a flick towards the fireplace, where the cold ash sprang into flames. He reached inside his wet coat and coaxed his ever-present Bowtruckle, Pickett, into his hand before peeling away the wet fabric and setting the coat on a peg to dry in front of the fire. "I'll make tea," was all he said in reply before tucking his wand into a belt loop and disappearing into the kitchen.

Puzzled thoughts rooted Tina to the spot she had been standing in for the past five minutes. His line of reasoning at last clicked in her head, and heat flamed up her face and the back of her neck. The build of her cold shivers into full-on convulsions finally snapped her from her thoughts, and she hurriedly threw off her soaking coat, hat and scarf. She rummaged through her suitcase to find a dry pair of pajamas and changed before following Newt into the kitchen. As much as she liked him, Tina wasn't sure she trusted Newt with a tea kettle.

Tina rubbed her cold arms as she trailed into the kitchen.

Newt glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as she entered. "You'd be warmer if you sat by the fire," he commented, turning his attention back to the stove. He gave his wand a flick, and a cupboard to his right opened to release a pair of ceramic mugs.

"You're wrong."

Newt stopped and turned to look at her quizzically. Hesitancy and doubt flickered through his eyes as his gaze moved restlessly from her to the side. "About what?"

Without answering, Tina stepped forward and stretched out her hand to where Pickett was perched on Newt's shoulder. The Bowtruckle looked back and forth between Tina's face and her hand in debate before moving to settle into her proffered palm with a chitter. Tina drew her cupped palm close to her face with a grin. "I actually kind of missed him," she remarked. Pickett grumbled indignantly at this. "I would ask to see the rest of them," she said with a nod toward where Newt's enchanted case rested on his small kitchen table, "but I'm beat."

Tina looked up to find that Newt was staring at her. Waiting.

"I know you weren't being crass," she finally clarified, her cheeks heating. "About having me stay here. And...you don't have to sleep on the floor. I know you won't..." Her voice trailed off. Now it was her turn to look bashfully away.

They were both silent for a few long moments, their cheeks twin colors of pink. She heard Newt shift a couple of times and open his mouth to speak, but words never came. At last, there was a shrill whistle from the tea kettle that broke the silence, and Newt turned to pour tea into the mugs. Tina drew in a breath and moved Picket to her shoulder.

Newt turned and offered one of the mugs to Tina with an extended hand. She reached out to take it, and as their fingers brushed, their eyes met. Newt finally spoke. "Your hair is longer."

Tina gave a small smile, not moving away from his touch. "That'll happen over a year," she replied.

The doubt visibly fled Newt's eyes, and he gave a crooked smile in return. The hesitancy remained, but there was a warmth to it that lit his eyes. After another beat longer, he released his grip on her mug and turned away. He offered cream and sugar, and then led the way back into the lounge, where they sat on the floor in front of the fire to drink their tea. Most of their drinks became lukewarm as they conversed quietly about Tina's voyage and their work.

At the mention of his book, Newt blinked and sat up. He stood, offering to take away Tina's mug, and moved back into the kitchen. "Hang on," he tossed over his shoulder.

When he returned, he sat back down and wordlessly handed her a paper-wrapped parcel. She looked at him with a mixture of amusement and curiosity as she took it. "You wrapped it," she commented with a slight laugh. She carefully pulled the brown paper away to reveal the book underneath. The title was stamped into the blue cover in black ink, and she traced the letters with a broad grin. "'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,'" she read aloud. Her fingers brushed along the fabric cover for a few moments before moving to crack open the book. There was a glimpse of hand-written words on the title page.

Newt quickly reached out and covered her hand with his own, effectively closing the book. Warmth spread through Tina's skin at his touch. "Erm, don't read it yet," he said with red cheeks.

Tina resisted the urge to ask why. He would only give a vague answer anyway. "Alright." She turned to place the book on top of her suitcase, her hand resting briefly on the volume.

Pickett gave a chatter, and Newt stood up. "He's had enough for one day," Newt summarized as he reached down to Tina's shoulder for his pet. "Time for bed." He moved to the bed, where he let Pickett hop down and settle onto one of the pillows. Newt glanced back at Tina. "Will that bother you?"

Tina was rather surprised that it had even occurred to Newt that most people didn't share their beds with their Bowtruckles. "No," she said with a laugh. "But...do you sleep like that?"

Newt glanced down at himself. He was still wearing his day clothes. "Oh, um..." He went to his wardrobe, rifled around in a drawer, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Tina looked over at the bed and stood with a shaky breath. She flicked her wand to douse the fire in the grate before walking over and gingerly pulling back the covers, being careful not to smash Pickett as she slid in with a shudder. Despite sitting by the fire, she was still cold. She curled her chilly toes and settled back against a pillow, her gaze flitting nervously around the room. Her eyes landed on the desk, and she noticed something that she hadn't upon entering. She stilled.

There was a frame resting on the piece of furniture. She recognized it instantly, remembering how the image it held had made her sister tell Newt he needed a giver and not a taker. Remembering all too well the pretty face that had peered out of it and made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

The frame was empty now.

Quiet footsteps announced Newt's return, and Tina's eyes flit to look up at his face. Their eyes met, and Newt stood silently beside the bed for a moment before turning out the lights and carefully getting in beside her. His movements were exaggeratedly slow, as if he was trying not to scare her. He laid down facing her, leaving a careful slip of distance between them. Neither broke their gaze, so they continued to look into each other's eyes.

Tina finally broke the silence. "I'd like to see the rest of them tomorrow."

A wide, delighted smile broke across Newt's face, chasing away the lingering hesitancy in his eyes. With those words, he heard a request for a space in his life. He felt completely understood and accepted. It had been a while since he had felt that way. "Okay." He waited a moment, then slid a hand across the distance between them to find one of Tina's. His fingers brushed her wrist in question, and she turned her hand to twine her fingers with his. He inhaled slowly and moved his free hand to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. A vivid memory of saying goodbye to him a year before flew through her mind, and she gave a shiver at the electric feel of his skin against hers.

Newt's brows knit in concern. "Are you still cold?"

With a nod, Tina took a breath and closed the distance between them to snuggle against the warmth of Newt's chest. She didn't let go of his hand.

Newt tensed momentarily, holding his breath. Then he relaxed, and he dropped his free arm loosely around her waist.

Her heart was pounding and her face was hot, but Tina's toes still felt like ice. She watched Newt closely for a minute before sliding her feet across the bed to tangle with his.

Newt gave a small jump and his eyes widened, but he didn't move away.

"Sorry," she whispered, her voice quavering slightly. "My feet are cold."

He heaved a shaky breath and ducked his head so that their foreheads touched. Their noses brushed, and Newt's breath warmed Tina's cheek. All they could see was the color of the other's eyes. "It's okay," he said, his voice coming out a bit hoarse. "It's my pleasure."

Warmth filled Tina's body, and she was infinitely glad to be sharing a room with Newt and not a Bundimun. Everything else seemed to fall away around them, and the thought crossed Tina's mind that if she could feel this with him all the time, it wouldn't matter where or when they were. It wouldn't matter at all.