Warnings: none. What a pleasant change, eh? ;)
Tina realizes something is wrong the moment she steps through the door.
Their apartment is in shambles, cleaning supplies strewn throughout as if pressed into service and then promptly forgotten. Newt holds chaotic culinary court in the kitchen, cheeks streaked with flour, his hair a brassy frizz in the humid air while juggling pots, pans, and flying dishrags. Pickett romps in a bowl of salad, leaves, and vegetables flung every which way, and Dougal's wizened old face peeks out from behind Newt's ridiculous floral apron, wrinkling at her with simian good-cheer as a platter of snowflake rolls arrange themselves on the table.
She kicks off her shoes and shrugs out of her jacket before stepping cautiously into the kitchen. "Hey, Newt? What's going on?"
"Tina!" Newt yelps before whirling on her, his expression unmistakable guilty when the cookery tumbles to the floor with a discordant crash.
Tina crosses her arms over her chest, raising an unimpressed eyebrow when he stumbles across the room to embrace her. She momentarily considers resisting but from this close, she can see the hectic color in his cheeks, the strained whiteness around his eyes. "Newt, what's wrong?"
Newt flashes her a crooked, half-maniacal smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Nothing! Nothing's wrong!" he hastens to assure her — too quickly, too forcefully. A shiver moves through him, belying his words, and Tina holds him until he sags, the manic energy draining out of his body all at once.
"It's the most awful thing," he mumbles, looking pained while studiously avoiding her eyes. "Here I was, enjoying a perfectly delightful breakfast when a pigeon arrived. Finding that highly unusual, I opened the window to discover it was for me!" He makes a rough sound, and Tina soothingly runs her fingers through his hair until he calms, his breathing hoarse but steady. "It was from my parents, Tina, and they — they're coming to New York. Now. They want to meet you!"
She looks instinctively at the ring adorning her finger, the one he had purchased just for her, before stroking the back of his neck. "Okay, that I can understand," she murmurs soothingly, "but... Newt, what's the problem? Why are you doing all this?" She gestures to the chaos that was their previously organized apartment, sending Dougal a reassuring smile when he hoots worriedly.
"Because I haven't seen my parents in ages!" Newt wails, straightening to ball his hands into fists. "Not since Theseus' wedding. And they're very old-fashioned and uptight and I know they'll take one look at you and our lifestyle and...and…"
Understanding comes to Tina with an Auror's trained insight, and she offers a smile before laying a calming hand on his arm. "Didn't you tell me that Leta was expecting when she and Theseus married?"
Newt snorts and straightens his shoulders, just as she had hoped. "Not much of a surprise there," he says rather uncharitably and sniffs. "In fact, I'm led to believe they married because she was up the duff, not because…" His face softens and he smiles down at her before laying a gentle hand on her swollen stomach. "Well. Not like us."
Tina's skin tingles pleasantly as she takes his hand. "They'll know about the baby as soon as they look at me, and so what? You asked me to marry you before this happened so it's okay. Maybe not 'right and proper', but okay."
Her fiance looks at her with glowing eyes before touching her hair. "I'm being ridiculous, aren't I?" he murmurs. "You're right, of course." Newt kisses her forehead before squeezing her hand. "You wonderful witch. I knew there was a reason I wanted to marry you."
She takes a moment to bask in his heartfelt praise before closing the gap between them with a kiss. He accepts it eagerly, deepening it into a note of pure longing before reluctantly breaking away. Tina toys with the strap of his gaudy apron before kissing the column of his neck, all thoughts of food and company temporarily pushed aside as she considers baser needs.
"When can we expect them?" she murmurs before finding the sensitive spot beneath his ear that makes him shiver.
"Um," Newt says eloquently, and she smirks when he gasps before clutching her tightly. "S-soon. I believe they said 6 pm."
Tina hums and makes to nibble the knot in his throat until his words catch up with her, causing her to jerk back in shock. "Wha — tonight?!"
Newt slides her a chagrined but somehow smoldering look. "Um. Surprise?" he says weakly, fingers twisting nervously in her blouse.
Dougal chooses that moment to insert himself between them, patting Tina's belly and crooning soothingly. On the counter, Pickett squeaks a belated greeting before flinging pieces of carrot about with relish, taking his duties as Official Salad Tosser seriously. Newt nervously bites his lip while cradling her jaw, reclaiming her attention, his calloused palm reminding her again of how deeply she loves this ridiculous man.
"I am so sorry," he says, speaking into her eyes. "I swear to make this up to you, dearest. I can't control them, I never could. I was hoping they wouldn't do this but Mother can be...well. She can be quite determined." He smiles faintly. "Much like you, actually."
Tina grins at him in light of his earnest apology. She makes to kiss Newt, only for a radish to rebound off her forehead and go bouncing merrily across the floor.
Newt freezes, eyes wide as Pickett dissolves into chittering laughter and falls off the edge of the salad bowl. Dougal makes a sound that strives to be reproachful but falls short, before grinning up at them and disappearing. Tina can't help the sudden giggles that take her in the face of the absurdity that is her life, and she leans against the countertop to laugh, carefully holding her belly as the last of the tension drains away.
Newt's watching her when she straightens and wipes her eyes. "I'm okay," she promises and bites her lip before grinning. "Now come on, tell me what you still need help with and I'll lend a hand."
He smiles while helping the Bowtruckle climb back into the salad bowl. "I wasn't sure what to do for meat," he admits, "because I know your nose is still sensitive and, well, you never seem to be in the mood for what is available. I figured it was better to play it safe so I went with a roast chicken but then I forgot about cleaning the rest of the house and—"
"Chicken is fine, and I'll take care of the cleaning once we've got dinner settled," Tina promises and taps his apron with her wand to replicate one for herself before leading him to the stove.
Thanks, as always, to Kemara for beta-reading. This is a fill for a prompt on my Tumblr, asking for Newtina and "my parents want to meet you." Want one of your own? Come find me on Tumblr katiehavok and drop me a line.
