His Only || Newt Scamander

Candor

Smethwyck tousled his hair as he entered the Creature-Induced Injuries floor of the hospital. His deep green eyes were popping against his lime green robes and couldn't deliver any kind of damage to his classic smile.

A yellowed letter was held in his hands, dark ink detailing the recipient he was going to see.

"Wyck!" A curvy woman with dark, flowing hair appeared from the healer station, "Where have you been?"

He quickly shoved the envelope into one of his many scrub pockets and put his full, charismatic energy on the healer before him.

"Hey, Pinfield," he replied, "I was just paying dear old Bonham a visit. Wanted to go over the chemical differences between azidoazide azide and dimethyl cadmium – but of course he had to bring up fluoroantimonic acid! I've been integrating batrachotoxin into Anna's research project, but there's something about it being a non-peptide that hardens the concoction. So, I said that the only way to get through a cardiotoxic or a neurotoxic steroidal alkaloid is to synthesize it from the creature that creates it in the first place."

Pinfield kept her hands on her hips, giving him the greatest arched eyebrow she could muster. She was never amused by his antics and wasn't about to encourage it now.

"Poison dart frogs!" he exclaimed, gesturing wildly, "Of course I couldn't find some compound to help from something manmade like azidoazide azide, besides that's an explosive. But it's possible that something like potassium cyanide could contribute to the project – it is a poisonous gas that's a lot like the Nundu breath."

It took him a few seconds to acknowledge that there was no way she was going to feed into his ramblings. He flopped his hands down and slouched back into a frown.

"Come on, Pinfield – you know I didn't..."

"If you decide to take another field trip off this floor, please do so on your own time." She fumed, squaring her eyes at him, "Don't waste mine and your partners time for some disturbances to the Chief of Hospital!"

Smethwyck refrained from rolling his eyes, "I apologize, Healer Pinfield, but I was taking it seriously for Anna's Nundu research. Believe it or not I do enjoy my job and want to excel at it."

"Oh – if you weren't Bonham's precious genius... I would not hesitate to arranca esa mirada petulante de tu cara! Le juro a Merlín que si no te quedas en tu oficina, personalmente contaminaré todas y cada una de las muestras que tengas."

She turned on her heel and waved her hands into the air as she paved the way to the research labs. Smethwyck couldn't help but hide a smirk with sucking in his lips. He always counted it a personal goal of his to fluster his boss enough to pull out a few Spanish insults.

"Hey, you know you can't slip languages every time you want to strangle me."

"¿Estrangularte? Haré más que eso antes de que termine el día si no te pones en forma ... ¡perezoso, desagradecido y encantador pedazo de glorioso prodigio!"

Smethwyck stifled a laugh and slide into an inconspicuous voice, "Did I hear glorious prodigy at the end of that?"

Pinfield rounded on him before entering the labs, sticking a finger to his chest, "Don't test me, Hippocrates. You'll wish you were never placed on my floor."

"Wyck, if you don't believe the wrath of Pinfield, then you better believe in mine." Adelaide leaned over a wooden table, a number of different sized cauldrons and colored vials littering the surface. And a chalkboard behind her was covered in various drawings of formulas and hypotheses.

Wyck awkwardly inched around Pinfield to enter the lab, "Hey, just saying it's okay to ask the chief of medicine a few questions about possibly one of the most important antidotes out there."