AN: I'm sorry this one is kind of short. To be honest, there might not be another one for a bit because I'm having slight writers block. I tried to write the story ahead of time but now I have the beginning and the end without this one important part in the middle that I can't work out. So it might be slow for a little while, but after a couple chapters it'll pick right back up again. I promise.

Please read and review! (I live for your awesome reviews)

-SirIsaacNewt

They threw a party for Michael, a welcoming. Most of them had gone and brought in wood; there was enough to keep the bonfire going all night. I hadn't seen Newt, but I was sure he was around here somewhere. I was standing a bit on the edge, away from the fighting, when Minho came up and nudged me with his elbow. I jumped. He laughed.

"Drink?" Minho asked. He held up two makeshift glasses. The glass jars were filled with a murky, almost clear liquid. I took it, but frowned, then handed it back.

"What is it?" I looked at him suspiciously, almost afraid of the answer. He grinned.

"Gally makes it." Minho answered. "I don't know what he puts in there, but it's flammable." I cringed. "You'll like it, come on."

"Not until I know what's in it." I told him.

"Go ask him, then." Minho suggested, gesturing to the ring that had formed around the others while they fought each other. Any excuse for Gally to beat up the Greenie.

"He's right over there." Minho said smugly. "Unless you're too scared." I glared at him.

"I'm not scared." I scowled. "He's in the middle of a fight."

"Come on." Minho swirled the drink in its jar, grinning. With a final scowl, I grabbed it from him and stalked off, drink still in hand. Newt was watching the ring from a distance, glaring at Michael. Apparently fighting was a Greenie initiation, one I'd been lucky enough to get out of. I stopped next to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up, and his expression softened slightly when he saw me. Then he frowned.

"Are you gonna drink that?" He cringed. I shrugged.

"Don't drink that." He took the jar from me. "It's terrible." I frowned. He looked weird holding two jars.

"What's in it?" I questioned. "Minho wouldn't tell me."

"Because he doesn't know either." Newt replied. "And alcohol, mostly, so if I were you I wouldn't go about drinking it." He took a sip from his jar.

"Why not?" Now I wanted it. It probably tasted terrible, but I wanted it.

"You don't look like you have a high alcohol tolerance." He told me. "We've got at least forty boys, I just...please, I'd really prefer it if you weren't walking around drunk. Not that I don't trust you, of course, but..." He sighed and stared into the circle, then took another drink. He made a face.

"Not to mention it tastes terrible." Newt cringed. "Have I mentioned that? You'll hate it, trust me." I looked up at him sadly, intentionally pouting.

"Stop looking at me." He whined. "Those bloody doe eyes of yours are far too tempting." I stared at him. He looked warily at the glass, then sighed and handed it over. I grinned and took the jar.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." He clinked his jar against mine, then took another gulp of the drink.

"And if you don't like it, don't keep drinking it to prove a point." He added. I shrugged, then took a sip from my own jar. Newt watched me carefully. I was right, it tasted like shit. I grimaced, then swallowed hard. He chuckled.

"I warned you." He grinned. I narrowed my eyes, took another drink, then cringed and handed it back to him. "Don't drink that if I'm not here, it's got a hell of a kick. I don't know what'll happen to your communication skills if you're drunk or hungover."

"Is it really flammable?" I asked. Newt looked confused for a moment, and I spelled the word for him. He mouthed the word when I finished spelling, then he shook his head.

"No, I got it, I was just...considering." He said, frowning at the drinks he was holding. His was practically empty, and he set it on the ground. Then after a moment, he answered.

"No, there's not enough alcohol for it to be flammable on its own." He said. He looked into the jar. "At least, I don't think it's flammable." Newt glanced into the ring again. I nodded towards it.

Do you want to get closer? I mouthed. He pursed his lips, then shook his head.

"No, if you want to keep back here, I'll-" I grabbed his hand and led him towards the fighting ring. Their yelling and cheering drowned out the sound of everything else. I couldn't see much, but I stood on my tiptoes and just managed to make out Gally slamming into Winston. I looked at Newt.

"Stay with me, would you? This lot goes mental when they're full of this." He held his drink up. Well, mine. Sort of. I raised an eyebrow and glanced at it, then back at him.

"Don't look at me like that, I'm not nearly as bad, I promise." He defended. "Unlike these shanks, I happen to be a perfect gentlemen." I grinned, then looked into the circle.

"They're trying to knock each other out of the ring." Newt explained, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the cheering. "Gally's on a winning streak of four to one, last time I checked. If he gets this, it'll be five in a row and we'll get close to calling it a night."

Suddenly, Winston was thrown from the circle. He slammed into Ben, who laughed, and they would've fallen over if it wasn't for the crowd behind them. The others shoved them back up and Winston left the circle, defeated.

"That's five." He said. I tapped him on the shoulder and started to mouth my question.

"Does Gally have to win a certain number of fights to-"

"Oh! That reminds me." Newt took my hand and pulled me away from the others. Where there was more space, more breathing room. We walked further from the others and started heading in the direction of the Map Room. I stopped and he turned, letting go of my hand.

"What are we doing?" I asked. He grinned.

"You'll see in a bit. I just want to make sure I don't forget, is all." Newt opened the door and flicked on the lights. Confused, I waited while he dug through one of the trunks.

"Ah-ha!" He exclaimed. He stood and turned around, holding something behind his back. I bit my lip.

"Close your eyes." He smiled. I raised an eyebrow. He sighed.

"I was supposed to give you this ages ago, I'm trying to make it more fun. Now come on." He pleaded. "Hold out your hands." Smiling slightly, I rolled my eyes, but obliged. I heard him step forward, and he pressed something into my hands. My thumbs ran over the cover. A book. I opened my eyes and flipped through pages. Blank. Lined. I grinned.

"I know, you should've had this awhile ago." Newt said. "And I'm sorry I forgot, but I remembered. That's the important part, isn't it?" He handed me a pen. I took it and kissed his cheek.

"You missed." He grinned. "Come on, love. I thought you had better aim than that." I set both the pen and the notebook down, then pulled him closer. He tilted my chin up and his lips met mine, kissing me gently. He brushed my hair back, then his hands went to my hips. I pressed a hand to his chest, running the other through his hair. Newt-

"Sam?" A voice came from the doorway. We jumped apart. It's not like we were doing anything wrong, but we were startled. At least, I was, but I'm just jumpy in general. The other day Minho tapped my shoulder and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Newt? What are you doing in here?" Someone asked.

"We're Runners, Ben, as are you. We've got a right to be in here." Newt looked over Ben's shoulder and frowned. "Winston, however, doesn't-"

"Alright, geez." Ben grumbled. "I'll find somewhere else. It's winding down out there, in case you were wondering." He glanced between the two of us. "Which I doubt."

"Ben!" Newt growled. Ben raised his hands, defensive. Then he left, taking his...friend with him. I grinned. Ben would be adorable with anyone. The door swung shut, and I winced at the noise. Newt sighed and handed me the notebook and the pen.

"Anyways...these are yours." He sighed. I took them and we walked out of the Map Room.