i know this is a super unpopular ship.... but could you write GoldGraves (Tina/Graves) please!!! Maybe they're on a job together...... thank you so much !!
I have no idea why this took me so long to complete but it’s finally done! I love this ship and I live for the mustard scene.
‘Expulso!’ Graves bellowed.
The perp’s back hit the rain-dampened redbrick wall with an unpleasant, bruising thud and he slumped down onto the damp cobbles with a pained groan.
Tina watched in silence, wand pointed steadily at the crumpled man as Graves stalked towards him. ‘Philotus Fitzgerald, you are under arrest for aiding and abetting a criminal and perverting the course of justice.’
With an aggressive jerk of his wand, Graves dragged the perp to his feet.
Graves rumbled Tina’s name, then, ‘Hold him.’
Glistening silver bonds stretch from the tip of Tina’s wand and coiled around the disoriented perp’s wrists to bind them behind his back. Fitzgerald sagged defeatedly, exhausted by the chase. He didn’t look like a gangster or even an affiliate of the dark underbelly of New York City. He was scrawny and dark-haired with wild eyes and a tired gaze that he cast down at the silvery puddles about his feet.
‘Come with us, Mr Fitzgerald.’ Tina had no time for sympathy now. She couldn’t afford to make mistakes; Graves had chosen her as his deputy on this case and to fail him would be to fail in the eyes of the law.
Tina shrugged off her coat and hung it beside her cloche on the hook behind the door. Graves’ office was as dark and austere as its occupant but it was warm enough to relax her after the chase and capture of Philotus Fitzgerald. Outside, the people of New York City, both wizarding and no-maj, were stirring in the pale pink dawn.
Director Graves strode to his desk and outstretched a hand, his gait slightly inelegant and unbalanced from his wounded leg. A pale blue file plucked itself from the stack and came to rest between his fingers. He was silent as he opened it and hunched himself over the desk.
Tina stood still and did not speak. Graves preferred silence to idle chatter; it bored him. It irked him. His quill scribbled case updates into the file as the photograph of Philotus Fitzgerald glared out at him. While he worked, Tina turned her gaze up to look at the neat rows of leather-bound tomes lining the bookcases. She wondered how many Graves had read, how many were for reference, how many were for display. With some hesitation, she stepped to the bookcases and ran her fingertips over the embossed golden titles.
Graves watched her over his shoulder.
‘Looking for anything in particular, Tina?’ He asked in a low but curious voice.
Tina pulled her hand away and shook her head, smiling. ‘No, Sir. Just curious.’
Graves straightened his back, his attention wandering from the open file. He left his quill to complete the notes unsupervised. ‘Curious about what?’
‘Just your collection. You have so many… I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many books. Outside of a library of course.’ Tina’s smile spread further. She felt the heaviness of exhaustion in her bones and fidgeted her hands behind her back.
‘Well, if you see anything you like please help yourself.’ Graves plucked a book from its place and opened the cover. His initials had been scrawled above the title. ‘You look tired, Tina.’ He said as he closed the book and put it back. ‘Go home and rest. You did good work tonight.’
‘Thank you, Mr Graves, Sir,’ Tina replied. She fought the slight colour blooming in her cheeks. ‘I only followed your lead.’
The quill paused mid-sentence and hovered.
Graves chuckled. ‘Flattery, Tina.’ Under his eyes clung bluish semi-circles of sleep and though they seemed everpresent since his return from captivity, that night they were deeper and darker. ‘Go. I need you well-rested.’
‘Yes, Sir.’ Tina collected her coat and cloche and pulled them on. On her way out, she paused by the door. ‘I meant what I said, Sir. It wasn’t flattery.’
‘I know, Tina.’ The director nodded curtly.
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