"Bloody Hell!"
"Ron, please don't-"
"Don't what Hermione?! You've been telling me not to curse since we were twelve. What do you think would be an appropriate age for me to curse?!"
"I think we should just breathe and think about the problem objectively."
"Objectiv-BLOODY HELL!"
"Ron!"
Ron Weasley finally pulled his head out of the oven he was fixing for his wife. She was standing there with an exasperated look on her face, even though he was the one who had just hit his head, again, on her stupid muggle oven.
"Listen, I'm fixing this for you, even though it's completely unnecessary. I should be watching Quidditch with Harry, but do you know why I'm not?"
"Because I asked you to stay here and help me fix the oven."
"Because you promised me sex!"
Hermione's face turned pink and she shifted her weight to the center, readying for a fight.
"I did no such thing!" she exclaimed indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Yes you did! You said, and I quote, 'if you fix the oven, I'll make it worth your time.'" Ron began waving his socket wrench in the air. "Sex, Hermione! That would be worth my time."
"Ron, honestly is that all you think about? I feel like you only do things for me when you're trying to get into bed with me!"
"Hermione! I am constantly trying to get into bed with you! My goal in life is not to rid the world of evil, nor is it to fix your bloody oven! I will forever be trying to get your clothes off!"
Hermione let a muted scream out between her lips. This was so aggravating. He was sooooo aggravating.
"I can't believe you're being so pig-headed! How could you say that! It's as if you only want me for my body!"
Ron threw the wrench down, making a deafening clang against the kitchen tile.
"Listen, Hermione. I should have and could have spent a nice day with my mate with some butterbeer and a wireless, but noooo! One word from you and my plans are out the window! Honestly, if I'd known my reward wasn't going to be getting in your robes, I wouldn't have bothered with any of it! Though maybe I would have if I had to put up with your nagging one minute longer! All it's been for weeks is 'Ron, please. Oh, Ron, what if we painted the house today? What if we mowed the lawn today? What if, what if, WHAT IF! Where were you with the paintbrush? Or the lawn mower? Or any of the other sodding things I've had to do?! And you just I had to live in this rubbish muggle neighborhood, so none of my bloody chores can be done by bloody magic!"
Ron was now waving his hands in a slightly mad way, gesturing to the tools and general kitchen around him. Hermione's hands were crossed over her chest and her eyes seemed to shoot daggers at her husband.
"Ronald Weasley! I can't believe you would say those things! All this time, all these years, I think for one second that you've finally managed to pound some decency into that infuriatingly thick skull of yours, and it turns out you've been playacting for three years?! I thought you wanted a home, a real life! I let my guard down for one minute and suddenly I realize I'm married to an insensitive lout who wouldn't know the difference between a wand and his-"
"Hey!" Their chests were heaving with anger and they were nose to nose. Their breaths mingled in a way that screamed of familiarity, and their clenched fists made it clear that this was an all too familiar scenario. They both knew what would happen next.
"…which probably is sometimes a good thing for me! I'm sure that a wand would do a better job of it-"
Hermione was abruptly cut off by Ron's lips on hers. She broke off with a groan. In minutes, Ron had picked her up and had her turned against the broken stove. Suddenly, their hands were everywhere. Pulling hair and clothes, feeling skin.
Hermione rolled to the side. How had the managed to make it to the kitchen floor? Regardless….
"That was…" she started. Ron nodded in agreement, scarce of breath, while digging the socket wrench out of his back where he had lain on it. He pulled her closer and let their scents wash over him. He closed his eyes and rubbed his lips over the top of her head, almost settling into a nice kitchen-floor nap.
"I don't really think you're an insensitive lout, and…you know, the other…thing…"
Ron smiled. "I know, Love. I don't think you're a nag, and I really do love our house…" Hermione nodded and kissed his chest.
"I guess we'll have to fix the oven tomorrow." Hermione shot a quick glance at the gaping oven door and the black interior. She sighed and her eyes closed. She had wished that-
"It's fixed now." Ron muttered sleepily. Hermione's eyes shot open. "What?!" She sat up and Ron groaned at the loss, trying to pull her back down.
"Ronald?" Hermione wrapped her fingers around his wrist, questioning.
Ron frowned and sat up, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Yeah, I finished it." Hermione stood up in her excitement, only to be yanked back. Ron handed her his shirt.
"Windows, love."
"I can't believe this! Are you sure?! This was my mum's, you know. I would love to cook- But are you sure?"
"Yeah. I am definitely sure that I fixed the stove."
"What were you doing, then, right before we started arguing, if you were done?"
Ron reached over and flipped the switch on the old oven. A light blazed on in the inside.
"I fixed the light."
Hermione blinked in disbelief, standing to examine the phenomenon. "That's been broken since I was seven!" Ron nodded, admiring the way she looked in his shirt.
"Well, now it's fixed." Hermione turned and pulled his face to hers, giving him a fiery kiss. "Thank you." Ron just smiled.
Later, as they lay in bed, about to go to sleep, Ron thought of something. He rolled to the side, pulling Hermione to him. She looked up at him sleepily.
"You know I still would have fixed your damn oven even if we hadn't shagged in front of it. Right?" Hermione smiled and kissed his cheek.
"You know I still would have shagged you if you had gone to Harry's and not fixed my oven. Right?"
Ron smiled yet again and pulled her closer. Maybe he liked that oven after all…