This has female pronouns, but if anyone wants I can publish a version with male pronouns (nonbinary might be hard but I could do that too if anyone wants!). Also, the song mentioned is "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend" from Moulin Rouge (the full film version). Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: slight mention of abuse

~~~

"Tina said that this was the best speakeasy in New York. I don't know how reliable that is, though, given the number of speakeasies Tina's been to..." Newt murmured, holding his glass of water close to his chest.

"Hey! Less talking, more walking. We're going to miss the show!" Queenie scolded, pushing her way through the smoke-filled bar to find a table.

Newt winced as he bumped into a small goblin. "Well, we have to wait for Jacob and Tina anyways-"

"I've heard their best performer is going to be playing tonight. They call her the Sparkling Diamond- so beautiful and talented it's been rumored that some men have gone mad trying to win her heart. We cannot miss this."

The lights flickered twice and the couples milling around the bar began to take seats at some of the tables placed throughout the space.

Queenie tugged Newt towards a table near the front. She looked up at the stage excitedly, head cocking as she listened to the thoughts around her drift through her head. "I don't hear Jacob or Tina yet; they must be running late. Oh, well."

"Queenie, I-I really think we should try and find them-"

"They're fine!" Queenie rolled her eyes. "Besides, you don't want to miss this. It took Tina and I three weeks to get tickets to see this show. If they miss it, it's on them!"

The lights flickered once and then dimmed completely, signaling the start of the show. Queenie shushed Newt, practically jumping in her seat. "It's starting!" She whisper-squealed.

Newt huffed, annoyance coursing through him. In truth, he was not one to frequent speakeasies; he loathed alcohol and he felt the atmosphere was always crushing him. He didn't really care that the bar was the "most exclusive club in New York-" he'd much rather be at his home, tending to his animals. He was about to voice this to Queenie when a voice rang out throughout the crowd, cutting him off:

"The French are glad to die for love..."

Light slowly illuminated the stage, revealing a woman standing before a microphone, and suddenly, all thoughts of leaving vanished from Newt's mind. Her dress, form-fitting and black, sparkled in the growing light. She grinned at the crowd as she came into view, one glove-tipped hand curling around the microphone as her red-lipped mouth crooned the next words:

"...they delight in fighting duels...

Her eyes were yet utterly inviting; they glittered with a mischief that drew the audience in. Her hair fell in soft ringlets over her shoulder, reflecting a soft caramel color in the warm spotlight. She was the most beautiful woman Newt had ever seen.

"...but I prefer a man who leaves..."

Her eyes drifted across the crowd, surveying the various faces that graced the chairs- until they landed on Newt's, and didn't move.

"...and gives expensive..."

Newt's breath hitched in his throat as she gazed down at him. His heart skipped a beat in his chest and it was as if he suddenly forgot how to speak; he was totally enraptured by the woman on the stage. Nothing existed except for her; and yet, he found he didn't mind a bit.

She smirked and the last word fell out of her mouth as a whisper, trickling from the microphone and into Newt's ear like a summoning.

"...jewels."

The drums started to play and the woman broke eye contact with Newt. She turned her enticing smile to the crowd and began to move to the music. She turned briefly, winking at Newt, before the song launched into its rhythm.

"A kiss on the hand may be quite continental, but diamonds are a girl's best friend..."

Newt felt a shiver slip down his spine and settle in his stomach, a wanting that filled him to his core. He realized he was gripping the tablecloth, seated at the edge of his chair. However, he didn't care; he was caught up in the image of her, twirling on the stage covered in diamonds, with a smile so bright that it filled his whole mind. Part of him questioned what drew him to her so much, what it was about her specifically that was reducing him to putty. But then the woman met Newt's eyes again and he knew why: she was perfect.

"A kiss on the hand may be grand but it won't pay the rental on your humble flat..." The woman winked and flashed a bit of thigh out of the slit in her dress. Newt's brain immediately overheated. "...or help you feed your... pussycat."

"Men grow cold as girls grow old and we all lose our charms in the end... but diamonds are a girl's best friend."

The horns blared as the woman twirled. She laughed and blew kisses to the crowd as she descended the stairs towards the audience, crying, "Tiffany's! Cartier!"

And without warning, the woman was suddenly seated in Newt's lap, one arm wrapped around his shoulder and the spotlight blaring down on them. She leaned forward, bumping her nose against his cheek, and grinned. Her lips just barely brushed his skin. Newt froze, his jaw going slack, as the woman looked him in the eyes and sang slowly,

"'Cause we are living in a material world, and I am a material girl."

Her fingers stroked the back of Newt's neck and she leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek, before giving him a wicked grin and leaping out of his lap to finish the set.

Newt closed his eyes to try and regain at least some of his dignity. His body was shaking, flooded with her scent and the feeling of her fingers tangled with the hair on the back of his neck. His hand gripped the tablecloth tightly as he took deep breaths, trying to tune out the sound of her sultry voice singing the rest of the song...

"Newt, are you alright?" Queenie's voice brought Newt back to reality. His eyes snapped open and he whipped his head to her.

"Yup, yes, absolutely fine. Just... a bit, um, hot, is all," he breathed, forcing his hand to unclench from the table.

The woman returned to the stage with a flourish, smiling at the crowd as she sang the final words:

"Diamonds are a girls friend!" She tossed one hand in the air and the lights went out, shrouding the club in darkness.

The space erupted with applause. The light flickered back on, but the "Sparkling Diamond" was nowhere to be found.

Newt exhaled slowly, partly relieved that she was gone so he could be free from her torture and also devastated that he couldn't see her again.

"Newt?" Queenie repeated, her voice soft. "Are you sure you're..." she stopped. "Oh my god," she whispered.

"What?" Newt turned to her. In truth, he was only half listening to her; he found himself searching the room for the woman, desperate to catch another glimpse of her.

"You-" Queenie grinned, poking Newt in the chest. "-have a crush!"

That caught Newt's attention.

"What- Don't be ridiculous!" Newt scoffed, his cheeks burning.

"You do!" Queenie squealed in delight. "Oh, this is just perfect. The big bad Newt, who never falls for anyone, has a crush!"

"I don't- that's not fair- Queenie!" Newt sputtered. "Now, stop it, this instance-"

"Oh, there she is!" Queenie cut him off, her attention caught by something over his shoulder. "My, she is something. I wonder if she's a witch..."

Queenie's words faded away as Newt turned, his eyes catching sight of the woman. She had emerged from a side door, led by a tall, dark-haired man in a tuxedo. She was beaming as she shook hands with some of the patrons, and her smile was so big and bright that Newt felt his chest melt.

Queenie hit Newt's arm. "You should go introduce yourself!"

"What?!" Newt all but shrieked, turning to her with a horrified look on his face. "I can't do that!"

Queenie raised an eyebrow. "You can face an entire herd of centaurs without a second thought but you can't walk up to a woman you like and say 'hello?'" She shook her head. "That's just sad, Newt."

Newt flushed and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Well, it's- it's been quite a while since I, you know-"

Queenie stood up with a huff. "Fine! I'll do it myself." She stormed off in the direction of the woman.

"What- Queenie!" Newt cried, but it was too late; she had already approached the woman. The two shook hands with matching smiles. They chatted for a moment, laughing, before Queenie pointed over at Newt.

Newt cringed, instantly averting his gaze. He heard the woman's laugh from across the room, like twinkling bells on a clear day, and risked a glance over at her; she was grinning again, speaking to Queenie with the cadence of an old friend.

Newt breathed a sigh of relief and sunk into his chair. Part of him was disappointed the woman wasn't going to come over, but the other part of him was relieved-

"Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?" A voice interrupted him.

Newt's hearts stopped. He turned slowly to see the woman standing there, a demure smile on her lips as she looked down at him. Their eyes met and Newt was instantly electrified, stuck to his seat as if struck by lightning.

"No- no, not at all-" Newt stammered, clambering to his feet to pull out the chair for her.

The woman laughed softly and sat, folding her hands in her lap. "There's no need for that, Newt."

Newt gaped at the woman as he sat back down. "How do you know my name?" He whispered.

The woman grinned. "Your friend told me."

"Ah. Right," he spoke, his tongue feeling extremely dry in his mouth. "Yes- Newt Scamander."

The woman extended a hand for him to shake. "My name is (Y/N)."

"(Y/N)," Newt repeated softly, feeling the word roll across his tongue. He decided he liked the way her name felt coming out of his mouth. "Your performance was amazing. Spectacular, even."

(Y/N) dipped her head. "You're very kind," She looked up at him through her hair, eyes glittering with mischief. "Thank you for taking part in the show."

"Taking part in the- oh," Newt's cheeks colored red as he remembered his "part" in the show. "Yes- it wasn't a problem," he swallowed uncomfortably. "No problem at all."

(Y/N) laughed again. "You're a funny man, Newt. Tell me, where are you from?"

"I came here from England, actually," Newt replied with a blush. "I'm writing a book on magical creatures."

"That's fascinating," (Y/N) hummed, leaning back in her seat. "But, I find one thing intriguing: I looked over the guest list before the show started- as I always do- and I didn't see your name on there anywhere. And, with a name like yours, I find it hard to believe I would have forgotten it."

Newt swallowed a lump in his throat. "You- you must be mistaken. See, I have my ticket right here." He fished out the ticket Tina had given to him and presented it to her. "See?"

She examined the paper for a minute. Then, a smirk tugged at her lips and she met Newt's eyes. "My, this is the best forgery I think I've ever seen," she remarked. "Very nice. Almost fooled me, too."

Newt went white. Tina hadn't told him she'd forged their tickets! "How can you tell?" He asked.

(Y/N) winked. "I wasn't always a singer, you know."

"Are you going to turn us in?" Newt asked, leaning in.

(Y/N) leaned in until her nose was mere inches from his, her warm breath fanning across his face. "Maybe," she whispered. "Come visit me tonight at my room, and I'll give you my answer."

Newt's hearts leapt in his chest. He was about to reply when he spotted a glittering ring winking up at him from (Y/N)'s hand. His heart sank; a wedding ring.

(Y/N) followed Newt's line of sight. She leaned back. "Ah," she said softly, raising her hand with the ring into the light. She slipped the ring off and set it on the table. "A gift from the Duke."

"The Duke?" Newt furrowed his brow.

(Y/N)'s eyes met Newt's once more. "Duke Sebastian Edinborough. He's funding this whole trip; he's promised me a fully funded show for years to come, even after my contract is done."

Newt's eyes flickered to the ring. "And, you and the Duke-"

"We're not involved," (Y/N) said quickly, palming the ring. "Despite what he wishes." She muttered, cynicism lacing his voice.

Newt raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

(Y/N) paused, realizing she'd spoken out loud. She let out a breathy laugh, nervousness suddenly painting her features as her eyes flickered over to the dark-haired man- who, Newt noticed, was watching them with a scowl from the corner of the room. "It's nothing. The Duke is a wonderful benefactor and a generous host."

She was lying. Something dark boiled in Newt's stomach, low and primal like he'd never felt before. "You're lying," he remarked.

Her body stiffened ever-so-slightly. She glanced at the Duke again, then gave Newt a tight-lipped smile. "I have a contract to work for the Duke for two more years. You see, it's in my best interest to keep him... happy. I could lose my job." Something turned sour in her tone.

"Come with me," Newt blurted out suddenly. He didn't even know why he was doing it, but he couldn't stop himself; it just felt... right. "On my travels for my book. I could take you away from here."

(Y/N) blushed a delicate pink. "Oh, I'm not sure-"

Newt seized her hand, driven by pure desire. "You don't have to stay here, (Y/N)."

"(Y/N)," a voice interrupted them. Newt and (Y/N) looked up to see the Duke standing before them, a sour expression on his face.

"Duke!" (Y/N) greeted, shooting to her feet. Her voice seemed to go an octave higher and she wiped her hands on her dress, giving the Duke a nervous smile. "I was just speaking to-"

"You," The Duke fixed his stare on Newt. "Who are you?"

Newt stood slowly, extending a hand to shake the Duke's. "Newt Scamander. And you must be the Duke." He replied, finding he wasn't scared of the Duke; he was just angry, angry that this man so clearly made (Y/N) afraid.

"I don't think I've seen you here before, Mr. Scamander." The Duke narrowed his eyes, his grip on Newt's hand tightening.

"Sebastian?" (Y/N) cut in suddenly, lying a hand tenderly on the Duke's arm. "I'm terribly thirsty after my performance. Will you come to the bar with me to get a drink?" She bat her eyes and gave him an over-exaggerated smile.

The Duke turned to her, eyes dilating. He dropped Newt's hand and put his arm around (Y/N)'s waist, subtly pulling her into his side. "Yes, of course, darling," he spoke, smiling. He looked at Newt again, darkness shrouding his eyes. "Newt." He nodded.

Newt nodded tensely back, feeling fire burning his throat. (Y/N) gave him a look of warning and turned towards the bar with the Duke in tow.

For a moment, Newt just watched her go, letting the heat in his blood fizzle out. His hands were clenched into fists in his coat pockets with an anger he couldn't seem to tame.

"Well?!" A voice squealed, breaking him out of his thoughts. Queenie ran over, an excited grin on her face. "How did it go?"

Newt cleared his throat and sat back down in his chair, forcing his feelings aside. "Fine," he said. "It was fine."

"Just fine?" Queenie frowned, taking the chair (Y/N) had sat in before.

Newt took a sip of his water and nodded. "It was nothing, really. We just chatted."

Queenie's pouted. "Don't lie to me, Newt! I saw the googly-eyes..."

But Newt wasn't listening. His eyes were on (Y/N), who was standing at the bar across the room with the Duke's hand placed dangerously low on her back. He felt anger boil inside of him again and he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to look away.

He hadn't forgotten the pressure of the Duke's hand in his, squeezing with a silent warning: "She's mine."

The Duke was a man used to getting what he wanted. He may have "had" (Y/N) for the moment, but that was where the Duke fell short: he failed to realize that all of the money in the world would never be enough to suppress one's true feelings.

Newt wasn't going to give up. He had seen the flash of fear in (Y/N)'s eyes and he knew what it meant- he'd seen that same look on plenty of his animals who had been trapped by cruel masters. Clearly, there was something going on that (Y/N) didn't want to let on. And Newt was going to get to the bottom of it.