The end of the day found Tina Goldstein in her little office at MACUSA with her legs on the corner of her desk, leaning back in her chair, slowly guiding a fork with the first bite of a slice of Triple Dark Chocolate Cake to her mouth. She hovered it there for a moment, right in front of her lips and breathed in the rich, earthy scent. She opened her lips and gently lowered the cake into her mouth, closing her lips around the fork, making sure to catch any stray chocolate.
Then, she moaned, as the sweet and bitter taste filled her mouth.
A chuckle from her doorway drew her out of her chocolate-induced euphoria. Her eyes snapped open and landed on the face of her boss. Percival Graves was leaning against the door jamb, sporting an amused grin on his face.
“You know, for a moment there I thought I might have to arrest you for some form of public indecency or other,” he rumbled, still chuckling slightly.
Tina felt her cheeks grow hot in a flush of embarrassment. “Yeah, well, even you if you had the pleasure of eating this,” – she waved her fork over her plate and the piece of cake there – “might lose your cool. This is... it’s like heaven on a plate.”
“Really?” he drawled, a sparkle of mischief in his dark eyes, as she speared another piece of cake onto her fork and raised it to her mouth, “Then by all means, do go on enjoying yourself.” He waited till she had just popped the chocolate cake into her mouth and started chewing, then added, “You don’t mind if I stay and watch, do you?”
Tina promptly chocked on the cake. By the time she had her coughing fit under control, she was holding her throat and was wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. Graves – the smug bastard – was sitting in her visitor’s chair, just sticking the fork with a large piece of the rapidly dwindling cake on the plate in his mouth. His eyes went wide for a moment, then closed as his face took on an expression of perfect bliss.
“Merlin and Morgana, that cake is good!” he moaned, after he’d swallowed.
“Um... yeah,” Tina murmured, distracted by the image of Percival Graves – MACUSA heartthrob extraordinaire – sitting in her visitor’s chair, moaning while eating chocolate cake. “That’s my cake,” she added weakly, trying to repress the image of a naked Percival Graves moaning and sporting that exact same look of bliss on his face for entirely different reasons.
He opened his eyes, frowning. “Is it?” he asked sarcastically, taking another bite. “Where did you get it?”
“Jacob made it,” Tina answered distractedly, her eyes fixed on Graves’ lips, then immediately clapped her hand over her mouth as she realized what she’d just done.
Graves’ eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. “Jacob? As in Jacob, the no-maj Scamander got involved in all that illegal stuff we’re not arresting him for because Scamander also saved all of MACUSA?”
Tina closed her eyes for a moment, trying to come up with a way to somehow salvage this situation.
“He can bake something like this?” Graves’ voice sounded incredulous. “He must be a wizard, this cake is clearly magical!”
She looked at him confused, “That’s what you’re taking away from this?”
“Should I be taking anything else away from it,” Graves asked, in a low, dangerous purr usually reserved for baiting criminals during interrogations. He put the now empty plate onto her desk as he stood up to leave.
“Uh..., no, not at all, Sir,” Tina stammered.
“Very well then...,” he turned towards the door, then paused and turned around once more looking at her curiously, “Goldstein, why are you eating chocolate cake at dinner time in your office anyway?”
Tina grimaced, “That was the last slice. Queenie would never let me hear the end of it, if I ate it in front of her.”
Graves snorted, “Never heard of sharing before, have you, Goldstein?” He winked, before sauntering out the door. “Thanks for the cake, Goldstein!” she heard him call from the hallway.
For a minute or two, Tina stared unseeingly at the empty plate in front of her. Is it just me or was he flirting with me just now? She shook herself out of her daze and started gathering her paperwork. Time to head home and allow Queenie to pick her brain. If she got very lucky the juiciness of the encounter with her boss would spare her Queenie’s wrath at not getting even a bite of that last slice of cake.