Chapter Text
"This is your lucky day," Queenie says through the earpiece and hearing her so enthusiastic about something is not always a good sign.
Besides, he's not really in a good mood because it's been a couple of days since he saw Newt and he hasn't been able to call him.
"What is it?" He asks, a little bit irritated.
"Tina found a group of traffickers that pretend to be a dance company to get men and women and then sell them to rich people."
Perhaps Queenie has a dark sense of humor because Percival has no idea how getting involved in a case like that could make his day better.
He's absolutely furious now, but not at Queenie. He can't wait to join Tina to give those people what they deserve, perhaps he'll get the opportunity to hurt them before they capture them.
"Give me the address." He growls.
"Great. You'll meet with Tina there. You two are going to pretend to be buyers. Just get the proof so Newt can get the other dancers out of there."
"Newt is going to be there?" He asks, like a fool, because he realizes too late that Queenie was waiting for that reaction.
She chuckles.
"He auditioned yesterday. He's pretending to be a ballet dancer looking for a job." She explains and even though Graves knows Newt is a very good spy and capable of protecting himself, he can't help but worry.
And he can't stop thinking about him wearing leggings.
He groans and listens to Queenie's laughter when he gets in his car.
***
The place looks like an abandoned building and Percival honestly wonders how people agree to meet there for an audition, but then thinks that they're probably desperate to get a job.
He sees Tina at the other side of the room, but doesn't approach her; instead he looks disgusted at all the rich people there with hunger in their faces.
A man comes to them and explains that the dancers will come out to perform for them and after they finish the people in the room will get the opportunity to buy them.
A woman gives Percival a number and tells him he'll be able to make an offer when the ballet dancer he wants comes out to see if he can win them.
"Just click on our website and you'll get the instructions."
It's an auction.
Graves feels disgusted.
He watches as people make offers for the first two and is ready to punch all those disgusting people in the face but he knows he has to wait. Queenie and her team are getting all the information they need to bury them all in prison for a lifetime.
Tina makes gesture with her hand and Percival realizes that Newt is next.
He looks soft and delicate and so mesmerizing as he dances on the stage with those pink leggings and nothing else.
He could have been a great ballet dancer if he wanted to, he has the talent and the determination and even though Percival is head over heels for him he knows he's being objective this time.
Newt is an excellent dancer. He knows how to follow the flow of the music and how to move to express different emotions with his hands and legs.
He's so beautiful.
At the end of his performance Graves makes sure no one else can buy him and offers a ridiculous sum that won't be needed anyways, but he can't help but snarl and bare his teeth at the men and women that try to offer more than him.
"You really liked that one, huh?" A man gets closer to him, looking amused, like this is some kind of game. "You have good taste. I'd offer more, but I want to return to my place with a couple of them, so I'll let you have that one. But if you want to share one day–"
"I don't share," he growls viciously, startling the other man. He can't help it, he's fuming. All of them are repulsive.
How can they talk about people like they were just things?
Then, after a while, Tina approaches him.
"Newt is ready."
He's never felt so relieved in all his life; Percival clenches one of his fists before taking out his gun.
***
"You were great," Graves mumbles as soon as he gets the chance to talk to Newt. He's not sure why he always feels like a twelve-year-old with his first crush when he's next to him.
"You too, agent Graves," Newt smiles back at him and Percival feels weak at the knees for a second.
Now that the other agents are there and the dancers are being taken care of by a medical team, Percival finally feels relaxed enough to speak with him.
"Please, call me Percival," he sounds desperate, but he doesn't care. When Newt nods with a shy grin on his face, the agent moves closer to him.
He's still wearing that outfit and Percival can't help but look at his long legs.
He tries not to be too obvious though.
"Have dinner with me," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Please? I mean... only if you want to."
"That sounds good. I'm starving actually," Newt smiles back, surprising Graves. He wasn't expecting him to decide so quickly.
"Make sure he knows your intentions. He can be quite oblivious sometimes," Queenie reminds him through the earpiece, almost giving him a heart attack. He had forgotten she was still listening.
"I mean," he clears his throat. "As in a date..."
Newt blushes prettily as soon as Percival says that, but before he can get his hopes up, the redhead's smile vanishes.
"Are you sure?" He asks shyly. "I'm not... Like the agents you work with. You know I was a Black widow once... My past is not–"
"I don't give a damn about your past, Newt," Percival cuts him off, taking his hand. "I know you're a good man."
He obviously said just the right thing because Newt's grin returns to his face and his eyes glimmer with joy.
"I'd love to go on a date with you," he says, before kissing Percival's cheek.
It takes a while for the agent to react properly.
"Alright... Tonight at eight. I-Is that okay?"
"It's perfect, Percival."
The agent melts right then and there.