The retirement party of Senior Auror Jacob Gloomboot was going well. It was going so well that Newt was now hiding outside on one of the balconies, listening to the laughter and the cheerful jazz and the loud chatter coming from the brightly lit banquet hall, where people were dancing and socializing and eating cake and having such a great time that Newt just hadn't been able to take it anymore.

While Newt had, truly, had a wonderful evening for the most part, it had also been exhausting – the noise, the crowd, all the people who wanted to ask him what it was like to sit on Percival's sofa. It had eventually become too much for him – the crowd had been a little too large, the noises a little too loud, the guests a little too demanding with their questions – and that's why Newt had sneaked out of the open balcony door and was now standing on the balcony, on the spot where the darkness of the surrounding night met the light of the banquet hall pouring out through the two large windows, breathing in the refreshingly cool night air, leaning with his arms on the railing.

The usually so lively street down below Department of Magical Law Enforcement was peaceful and now almost empty, apart from a couple of Junior Aurors who, like Newt, had sneaked out. Unlike Newt, the two Aurors were now snogging right in front of the display window of The Stunning Hat hat store, seemingly oblivious to their public surroundings, and Newt did his best to not look in their direction to give them all the privacy he could. Instead, he looked up at the cloudless, starry sky where the full Moon was casting its pale light down on earth. Some might have found the sight beautiful and even romantic, but Newt couldn't help but be saddened by it – it made him think of all the torture and pain werewolves had to go through just that night.

Newt's musings were brought to a halt when Senior Auror Arthur Kilonski stepped unexpectedly onto the balcony bringing with him the smell of cigarettes that seemed to be constantly hanging about him. Turning to face the Auror, Newt tried to not wrinkle up his nose since that would have been rude and he didn't want to hurt Kilonski's feelings.

"Mr. Scamander," Kilonski was slurring his words and had clearly drunk a little more than he should have. There was a wine glass in his hand even now as he approached Newt, stumbling a little, and some of its blue, bubbly contents spilled onto his hand. "A certain someone is looking for you - Graves has lost his little bird, it seems. He'll be here any moment now."

The Auror was teasing him, Newt could tell, which was not a rare occurrence nowadays at all: Even though he had been invited to the retirement party, Newt didn't actually know Senior Auror Jacob Gloomboot. As far as he was aware, Jacob Gloomboot was the leader of the Auror Training and spent most of his time training Junior Aurors instead of working on cases, but they hadn't really crossed paths before, Gloomboot and Newt, and therefore it had been a surprise to Newt when the wizard had come to meet him in Percival's office that morning only to personally invite him to his retirement party.

"The sweethearts of my colleagues are also invited, Mr. Scamander," Gloomboot had told him in his croaky voice, squinting at Newt from behind his thick glasses. "So therefore Director Graves can bring you."

Percival had sat silently at his desk, not uttering a word, not helping at all, when Newt – feeling terribly awkward – had stuttered and tried to explain to Gloomboot that he was not Percival's s-sweetheart, but Gloomboot had just given him an unimpressed look like Newt had disappointed him in some fundamental manner.

"The party will begin at six, sharp," Gloomboot had said, looking at him down his nose, "and I expect you to be there on time. If you arrive late, young man, I will not allow you entrance to the lecture hall and you will fail both the test and the entire course – tardiness is not a good quality in an Auror and I won't stand for it."

Gloomboot, with his 70 years of work experience, had become quite senile in his 90's and Newt hadn't had the heart to argue his point. Instead, he had helped the old Auror to sit down on one of the two chairs in front of Percival's desk and had then hurriedly fetched him a cup of chamomile tea from the teapot Percival had brought in the office for Newt during their third month of friendship.

"This essay is late!" Gloomboot – who had momentarily seemed to have fallen asleep on the chair – had barked out when Newt had handed the teacup to him. "Outrageous! No points! This is unacceptable!"

And even though he hadn't even been tasked with writing any essays whatsoever in years, Newt had found himself hastily and profusely apologizing before quickly shutting his mouth when he had realized what it was that he was doing. That had been enough to make Percival laugh out loud which had helped Newt to feel better about the whole situation – it wasn't often that he heard Percival's genuine laughter.

Later, when Gloomboot had been about to leave and had been standing at the door, he had given Newt one last stern look - only for his expression to turn into one of amusement.

"Not nearly as senile as one might believe, Mr. Scamander," he had said, giving his temple a bit of a tap with his forefinger. "Meddling just happens to be one of my guilty pleasures. In any case, I do expect you to be at my party this evening - you wouldn't disappoint an old man, would you."

And then he had winked at Newt.

So, yes, more than one Auror seemed to now be in a habit of making fun of Newt.

Percival hadn't said anything about sweethearts and Newt had taken his cue from him, staying silent as well, although he had been unable to shake off Gloomboot's words – or the exciting, warm feeling that accompanied the thought that someone had referred to him as Percival's sweetheart, no matter how jokingly.

Percival's sweetheart.

He, Newt!

The thought still made his heart beat faster.

Newt looked down at his black shoes, polished for once due to Percival's insistence. He played with the sleeve of his shirt, studying Kilonski shyly from behind the hair that had fallen on his eyes as it so often did.

Apart from the smell of cigarettes, Kilonski reminded Newt of Percival. Both of the Aurors were dark and tall and quite pleasing to the eye with their broad shoulders. They both had dark eyes – although Percival's were warmer, and whenever something delighted him, their corners crinkled up in a manner that Newt always found very endearing indeed. Kilonski and Percival were both also careful with the way they dressed, each wearing stylish suits and polished black shoes and ties that had probably cost more than all of Newt's clothes put together but were likely still cheaper than their leather belts. Out of the two, Kilonski wore the more colorful clothes while Percival's were of darker shades (apart from his shirts which were always white) – which made Percival look just as powerful as he was and just as menacing as he could be when he wanted to.

"Auror Kilonski," Newt greeted Kilonski in turn, his voice a quiet contrast to the sudden sharp laughter coming from inside. "Good evening."

"Good evening to you, too, you lovely little thing."

Kilonski was swaying a little and steadied himself by leaning against the railing. He gave Newt an intent look – or as intent as he seemed to be capable of in his intoxicated state.

"I need your assistance, Scamander."

Kilonski pointed a finger at Newt – unfortunately the finger was a part of the hand that was holding the glass and Kilonski managed to thus spill the rest of his drink onto the white tiles of the balcony which made him swore out loud in such a harsh manner that Newt had to look away.

When he looked back, Kilonski was still pointing a finger at him, the empty glass held in his hand. The Auror met his gaze and Newt immediately lowered his, feeling his face heating up as so often happened when someone focused their attention entirely on him.

Kilonski was, besides, rather attractive - very much like Percival, especially now in the moonlight when his features seemed softer and more approachable than they were during daylight.

"A creature," Kilonski said with emphasis, "a creature has attached itself onto me."

He withdrew his pointing finger and gestured at his belt with his empty glass. There, on the belt, was indeed a creature – a nuicander, of all creatures!

Newt immediately forgot his shyness for the sudden excitement that filled him over seeing such a rare creature. His breath caught and he sunk to his knees in front of Kilonski to see the creature better, ignoring how cold and hard and unyielding the tiles were beneath his knees, ignoring the way the blue liquid Kilonski had spilled on the tiles now soaked through the fabric of his tweed trousers, all his attention on the nuicander.

The nuicander had sunk its sharp claws into Kilonski's belt and the eyes on its red back where huge and black and slightly bulky, all signs of a healthy individual. To a muggle, it might have looked like a headless lady bug the size of a child's palm, but Newt knew better than that – he knew that he was looking at a rare individual of an endangered species, even though he had only ever seen one nuicander before.

"Where did you find it?" His voice was hushed and full of awe.

"It was on my belt when I looked down some minutes ago," Kilonski sounded exasperated and not at all pleased that he had been given the rare honor of having a nuicander getting attached to him. "I don't know where it came from, nor do I care. I want it off my belt, but it won't let go. I tried to crush it-"

Newt flinched.

"-but that didn't work."

"It wouldn't," Newt mused softly.

While the egg of a nuicander was as frail and breakable as nuicanders were rare (a part of the reason why nuicanders were so rare), a grown nuicander had a strong shell all around its form, a shell nearly as hard as stone. The shell was nearly impossible to penetrate - or to "crush", as Kilonski had put it.

"So, can you get it off me or not?" Kilonski asked after Newt had taken his time to simply observe the remarkable creature up close.

"I can try," Newt promised. "Please don't be alarmed – it's not doing you any harm. It's just looking for a place where it can sleep for the next… eight years or so."

"They need quite a lot of sleep," he explained before Kilonski had had the chance the ask. "That's why they seem so docile most of the time – they are sleepy for most of their hundred-year lifespan."

Nuicanders were also known for being stubborn, and if they decided they had found a spot they liked, they were nearly impossible to remove from it – which had resulted in the name nuicander, a nuisance, since not all people were glad to have a nuicander sleeping on top of their head or on the keyhole of their front door for years on end.

"Sleeping on my belt for eight years? That just won't do."

Kilonski seemed to be one of the people who didn't want a nuicander in their life, as remarkable as they were. He now bent his head and seemed to be addressing the nuicander, his voice calm even though he was visibly annoyed, "Okay, little fella. Let Scamander here look after you."

"You better get on with it," he then said to Newt, motioning impatiently with his empty glass. "It's clearly not getting off by itself."

Newt shuffled a little closer to Kilonski, walking on his knees, never taking his eyes off the nuicander. He had just reached out with both of his hands to wrap them around the nuicander in the hopes that the warmth they provided would be enough to coax the creature to let go off the belt and to curl up onto his hands instead, when Kilonski suddenly swayed backwards, sharply like someone had just given him a powerful tug from behind.

Startled, Newt looked up, hands now reaching out to empty air.

Percival had followed them out in the balcony and he was now standing behind Kilonski, one arm across Kilonski's chest while the other held Kilonski by the arm, tightly judging by the grimace on Kilonski's face. Newt couldn't see Percival's expression due to the bright light coming right out of the window behind him, but Percival's voice had such an odd tone to it that Newt couldn't even quite name it.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I."

"Not at all, boss." Kilonski sounded out of breath. He tried to shrug himself free, but Percival only tightened his hold, tugging Kilonski backwards, fast to his chest.

"I'm so very glad to hear that."

Although the words were pleasant enough, it sounded like Percival had said them through gritted teeth. He seemed to be hissing them directly in Kilonski's ear.

"You are, after all, a married man, are you not, Kilonski, and it's not like you would corner anyone while they were all alone only to somehow get them down on their knees for you, and you definitely wouldn't just go, 'You better get on with it – it's not getting off by itself?' would you?"

"I-" Kilonski began, but Percival cut him off.

"No, no, of course not," he let out a chuckle that sounded neither happy nor amused. "Must have been my imagination."

"Get up, Newt, will you," Percival then addressed Newt. "The cold ground can't be good for your knees."

Newt blinked up at Percival, more than a little confused.

"But I've not finished yet," he argued and looked back down at the nuicander. He shifted closer on his knees and reached out for Kilonski's belt again.

"What are you doing?" Percival sounded uncharacteristically alarmed.

Before Newt had had a chance to respond, Kilonski was already talking, sounding more sober than he had just moments earlier, "He's talking about a creature, boss! It's as innocent as that, I swear! I've got a creature stuck on my belt and Scamander is on his knees to get it off me, not to get me off."

Oh. Oh. That was why Percival was behaving like- Percival had thought that- He had thought that Newt

With Kilonski!

Newt felt his face flushing beat red and he was suddenly unable to look at either one of the men – the attractive men – standing before him.

Thinking about it now, Newt could understand how Percival had come to the conclusion that Kilonski had been trying to get Newt to give him f-fellatio: It was likely that Percival had stepped onto the balcony to find Newt on his knees in front of Kilonski, only hearing a part of the conversation, the part where Percival demanded Newt to "get on with it" which might have made it sound like Kilonski was pressuring Newt to… to… to do that. Really, what else could have Percival possibly thought was going on, and Percival, ever so protective, had immediately jumped to Newt's defense.

It was as touching as it was mortifying.

"He has a nuicander clinging to his belt," Newt now explained, face burning with mortification, and he more felt than saw Percival's gaze snapping to him. "He was asking me to assist him in getting it off of him."

"Scamander's the creature expert, after all," Kilonski hurried to add. "I couldn't think of anything else to do. None of my spells had any effect - the creature is holding on tightly and I want it off."

Percival paused and seemed to think the words over. Newt saw him craning his neck, apparently to look over Kilonski's shoulder at the belt and the nuicander still clinging to it.

He probably also checked that Kilonski was, indeed, still… decently covered.

"Please be careful so the nuicander won't get hurt," Newt pleaded and bit his lip before hastily explaining, "Nuicanders are almost extinct and that individual is not doing anyone any harm, apart from a little bit of temporary inconvenience, so let me save it and take it to my suitcase and it won't bother any an Auror ever again. I promise."

Slowly, as if with hesitation, Percival let go off Kilonski.

"My apologies," he muttered. "I misread the situation."

"Never mind."

Kilonski adjusted his rumpled clothes, smoothing down his red vest.

"If I had found you and my wife in a similar situation, I probably would've beaten you to a bulb and asked questions later – no offense, sir – so I figure you were really quite reasonable, more so than I would have been."

"You deserve consideration." Percival's voice was quiet and he was staring away, down at the street, evading both Newt and Kilonski's eyes. "I do consider you a… good man, after all."

Somehow it wasn't quite clear whether Percival was addressing Kilonski – or Newt.

He watched on, never uttering a word, as Newt went to kneel in front of Kilonski and reached out for his belt.

"Hello."

Newt petted the nuicander, speaking to it softly, and the nuicander looked at him with its black eyes. Kilonski seemed to be holding his breath, and when Newt glanced up at him, briefly, he saw that the Senior Auror was looking uncomfortable, staring fixedly up at the Moon instead of observing Newt's work with the nuicander.

He's trying to not think about me giving him fellatio because he knows Percival is watching him.

No sooner had the thought hit Newt than he already snapped his eyes back to the nuicander, feeling his blush deepening.

Doing his best to not think about the two handsome men looming over him, Newt cleared his throat and continued speaking to the nuicander.

"Wouldn't you rather come with me somewhere you can rest easily for as long as you like than stay here on the belt of an Auror who tries to crush you?"

The nuicander seemed to think so, or at least it didn't take for all that long for it to crawl onto Newt's hand and allow Newt to put it into the empty glass he took from Kilonski's loose grasp.

With the nuicander now safely removed from Kilonski's person, Newt got up with the glass securely held in his hand. He held out the glass to show its precious contents to the two Aurors, but neither one seemed interested in the nuicander, much to Newt's disappointment – he had hoped they could have had a conversation about it and other such remarkable creatures now that the opportunity had presented itself.

"Thank you, Scamander. Have a nice evening, boss, and… sorry."

Having mumbled the words, Kilonski twirled around and hurried back inside, broad shoulders hunched, looking like a man on the run, but Newt barely even noticed it now that he had a nuicander – a real, actual nuicander! – in his care.

"Beautiful, isn't it," he said, eyeing the nuicander with admiration.

"The loveliest."

Percival sounded wistful. Newt thought he felt Percival's eyes lingering on him but when he turned to look at him, Percival was staring fixedly at the nuicander in the glass. Happy that someone seemed to finally know how to appreciate the nuicander, Newt began to tell Percival of it, to describe nuicanders' various interesting attributes, pointing out its claws and eyes and the genitalia - the nuicander seemed to be a female, although it was difficult to tell for sure without closer examination - and Percival let him talk, never once interrupting, although Newt could have sworn that Percival kept on staring at him instead of the lovely nuicander.

Percival's sweetheart.

Newt still hadn't managed to shake the thought off now that the idea had been planted in his head.

Percival's sweetheart.

He, Newt.

Percival's.

The possibility lingered there.

"Is that a serial number on its belly?"

Percival's sudden question made Newt blink. Percival had pulled the wine glass close to his face and was now glowering at the nuicander in it, eyes intent and sharp.

Newt stood up on the tips of his toes to see the nuicander's belly better, and, yes, there, written on its shell was indeed the serial number 652-ss3 - Newt had been too excited to study the nuicander's marks, distinctive to its species, that he had ignored such an obvious thing in favor of getting a closer look at the claws.

It was, to put it mildly, embarrassing. He should have been more observant - what kind of a magizoologist did he think he was, if he didn't notice a serial number on a creature's belly!

"This is a confiscated creature!" Percival came to the conclusion, sounding suddenly so furious that a shiver ran down Newt's spine. "Property of the department! That son of a bitch, that absolute bastard tried to trick you on- He thought you would- Merlin, I will kill him!"

Who knows what Percival would have done, but it turned out that Kilonski was nowhere to be found. It was like the man had gone into hiding.

Newt didn't mind because Percival let him keep the nuicander.

Perhaps that was the way Kilonski had intended it, he thought cheerfully.


A/N: Thanks for the reviews and merry Christmas!