If Newt is Mummy then it only makes sense that Percival becomes Daddy. [This has a character from Not Your Conventional Family and is a sort of AU of the last scene. It is not necessary to read it however.]
Three months into their relationship, Percival no longer worries when Newt is late for their dates. In fact, he's taken to telling Newt an earlier time in order to cut down on the length of time he waits. So, yes, Percival is used to Newt getting held up but when it gets to 45 minutes after the time Percival he himself had shown up he knows there's something wrong.
Fortunately, it had only been a picnic in the park Percival had planned and so he can easily pack up the blanket and food and leave. After finding a suitably dark alley, Percival apparates to Newt's flat. He knocks on the door and though there's no answer, that doesn't mean Newt isn't in and he uses the key the other man had offered to him a month after making their relationship 'official'. There had been mutterings from his colleagues, who had heard about this little event through the horrendous gossip mill, about it being too soon but as Newt had pointed out, he was often in his case and therefore wouldn't always hear the door even if he was in.
And well, if Newt had also accompanied the gift of the key with a solemn clasping of hands and him lovingly saying that he trusted Percival implicitly, that was nobody's business.
"Newt?" Percival calls out and when he receives no answer, he goes hunting for the briefcase, finding it in the bedroom by the end of the bed.
He unlatches the case and sticks his head inside. "Newt?" He tries again and worryingly, he's met with silence once more. It could be nothing, Newt might just be a bit further in one of the habitats, but as he's climbing down Dougal comes scampering up to him, not wasting any time before he grabs Percival's hand and begins dragging the wizard along.
While Dougal has always been one of the creatures fondest of him, he automatically knows that something is wrong.
His fears are confirmed when they reach the tropical habitat. Percival rushes forward, Dougal all but forgotten as he slides through the gaggle of creatures that surround a feverish Newt. He flinches slightly when his elbow grazes Aria's leg as he goes to brush the back of his hand against Newt's glistening forehead. It's at that moment that he realises Newt is lying in a shining white hammock. Probably best not to question.
"Newt? Are you okay hun?" He asks softly.
Newt's nose crinkles and his eyes blearily open, a glaze covering them. He squints at Percival for a few seconds before panic springs on his face.
"The picnic! I-I'm sorry. I…where am I?"
Newt looks past Percival to all his beasts and then down to his new bed. He strokes his fingers admiringly along the silken material.
"Very nicely done Aria," he murmurs and Percival is fairly certain the acromantula preens.
"You had us all worried," she says gravely and still more beasts are appearing, all of them curious about what has happened to their caretaker. "You fell when feeding the occamies."
"You fainted?" Percival says with concern. Then, last afternoon's conversation jumps to mind. "Wait a second…I thought you said you weren't going creature hunting? A quiet night in?"
Newt has the grace to wince. "I wasn't planning on it but I thought I'd go for a walk and during it I found a grindylow and it was in pain…I-I couldn't just leave it…" And oh dear, his bottom lip is beginning to jut out.
"Of course you couldn't," Percival sighs. "C'mon, let's get you to bed." He prepares to carry Newt out of the hammock but before he can even begin to lift, he's suddenly assaulted by an assortment of beasts. Bowtruckles hang of his fingers, the mooncalves butt against his knees and even Amadeus the niffler is holding onto his sleeve, outraged. Slightly stunned by the reaction, he slowly lets go of Newt.
"Ah yes…they can be a tad protective," Newt says affectionately, patting one of the mooncalves on the head and Percival would consider leaving Newt with his beasts but a coughing fit follows swiftly, one that has the man recoiling in pain. It hardens his resolve to play the bad Auror.
"You need a proper bed," Percival says firmly. "While the hammock certainly was good thinking you need pillows and blankets…and soup."
"You could bring those down here," Newt wheedles, the pout full force, but Percival is not to be deterred, not when he sees how weak the coughing has left the man.
"I'm taking him to bed, to get better," he warns the creatures. He reaches out for Newt once more, thankfully receiving less protest and those that continue to revolt are chastised by Aria who, it seems, has taken an authoritative role.
"Thank you," he tells the acromantula, just managing to look her in all eight eyes. He starts to carry Newt away, the man snuffling pitifully against his chest. The stairs prove to be a slight issue but help quickly comes in the form of a swooping evil who stays pressed against Percival's back in order to keep him balanced.
It's a particularly peeved Newt that Percival tucks into bed a few moments later but Percival doesn't get to listen to his cajoling for much longer for after he's had some chicken soup, and while he's in the midst of asking Percival to take care of his beasts, he drops off into a deep slumber. Percival remains a few minutes longer, adjusting Newt slightly so he breathes easier, before he presses a kiss against the sleeping man's brow and sets about fulfilling Newt's request.
Percival might have taken to observing Newt in his 'natural habitat' so to speak but that doesn't mean he keenly watched everything Newt did. The sight of the magizoologist with his hair mussed, sleeves rolled up and a gleam in his eye he only gets with his creatures was a rather distracting sight.
Deciding to start easy, Percival begins with the mooncalves, a job he'd been delegated more than once due to its ease. Though a few of them stare at him with betrayal, over-all they're happy to eat the treats he throws to them and some even reward him with affectionate brushes of their heads against his thighs once they're done. He continues with a few more of the easier beasts, such as the fwubbings and Dougal, until he left with those that Newt purposefully tended alone.
He starts off small, heading for Amadeus who's sat in his den with his arms folded crossly. He glares at Percival when the wizard approaches.
"I know you're annoyed at me," Percival says. "But you do realise your behaviour shows you care for him a lot more than you let on?"
Amadeus briefly looks scandalised. He abruptly faces away from Percival, nose turned up scornfully.
"So you don't want dinner then?" He holds out the bowl of nibbles temptingly but Amadeus doesn't even look, stubbornly facing away from him.
"You need to eat." Percival can just imagine the look of horror on Newt's face if he found out that the niffler didn't take a bite. He casts his mind back, trying to remember how Newt gets the stubborn thing to eat when he's in a mood, but comes up blank. His wandering eyes catch a glint from the watch on his wrist and he notices the moment that the niffler spies the silver time-piece. He huffs.
"If I give this to you will you eat?" He asks, pointing to the watch.
Amadeus looks interested. He inches forward then thrusts out a hand.
"Not until you start eating," Percival compromises. "I'm a man of my word. You'll get the watch once you've eaten."
Amadeus narrows his eyes untrustingly and Percival stares back, willing the niffler to just eat the damn food. The resulting staring match lasts a far too long but thankfully Amadeus eventually snatches some of the food and shoves it in his mouth. Percival puts the bowl inside the den and the Niffler digs his head in, chomping down on the treats. Half-way through, he pauses and gives Percival an expectant look.
"Yes, fine," the wizard sighs. "Here." He unclasps the watch and the niffler inspects it happily before tossing it in his pouch and resuming eating. Satisfied, Percival goes to the next creature – Desmond the diricawl, or as Percival so fondly thinks of him, Demon.
Newt might have made the diricawl apologise for its behaviour during their first date but in no way does that mean it had been sincere.
He earns three new marks on his hand for trying to clean its feathers.
Tending to the rest of the beasts goes by with varying success. The salamanders, though not particularly viscous, burn him twice after a mishap with some water and he remembers far too late that you are meant to bow before approaching a Hippogriff. However, he manages to get to all of them (it seems he picked something up after all while ogling Newt) and Percival is rather proud of himself when he heads back to the flat. He's ready to tell Newt the good news when he emerges to find the man staring at him wide-eyed, one leg swung over the side of the bed and his hand grasping the bedside table.
Percival sighs fondly.
"Do you not trust me to take care of your beasts?" He questions playfully as he places Newt's leg back under the covers.
"It's not, not so much you dear but I know they can be a handful and I wouldn't expect you to know how to take care of them. I-I don't know what I was thinking, asking that of you."
"It wasn't easy," Percival admits, "but you don't have to worry. I fed and checked over them all. They were fine, mostly, just a bit worried about their mummy."
Newt smiles, relieved, and presses a kiss against Percival's wrist, stalling Percival's hand where it had been stroking along Newt's cheek. "Well, does this make you daddy now?"
Though the comment was made in jest and Percival rolls his eyes, the thought secretly warms him ever so slightly. He'd never considered himself a family man but perhaps he could make an exception.
This was supposed to be a one-shot. I can't stop. Send help.
