"Anyways, good work tonight, boys. We won out in the end, and that's what matters. Hit the showers, team." Robards nodded briskly at the small group of aurors and walked out of the locker room.
Ron Weasley grimaced and tried to roll his shoulder. The answering pain and soft, warm trickle was all the answer he needed.
"We need to get that looked at." Ron's best friend, Harry Potter, nodded to the tendon that was now sluggishly bleeding down the front of Ron's thin cotton tee shirt. Ron's grimace deepened and he buried his face in a damp cloth.
"It'll be ok." He sighed. He scrubbed the cloth vigorously over his face, but it seemed like nothing would be able to wake him up any more. He dropped the cloth in the laundry bin next to him and stood.
"Don't make me tell your mum." Harry warned, stripping his equally filthy shirt off of his sweaty body. "You know she'd have you downing tonic in about a second flat."
"You wouldn't dare." Ron warned, also pulling off his stained shirt.
"Yeah, Potter. You're little wifey would come running, too. Then where would you be?" One of their fellow teammates, Gordon, ribbed. Ron grinned and shed the rest of his clothes, stepping into a shower stall and waiting for it to turn on automatically.
"Not yet, Gor! I'm still a free agent until-" Ron tuned out the conversation of the rest of the team. He braced his hands against the Ministry issue tile and let the hot water run down his head.
The raid had been a tough one. The team had busted a rather elusive drug ring. Elusive because every other auror that had ever come close was either killed or so severely injured they'd been taken off the case. The gang was rough and didn't believe in taking prisoners.
Ron hung his head and let gravity stretch out his neck muscles. He and his team had been on this case for two weeks now, and he was feeling the strain. The blow he'd taken to his shoulder today was a small price to pay for the week long break Robards had just given them.
One week and some down time with Hermione. He thought. Since the negotiations for her Centaur legislation was just winding down when Ron's case had started up, they hadn't really had time to see each other for weeks. Aside from the occasional grunts at each other as they fell into bed, there had been no time together.
Ron reached for the soap and tried to remember the last time they'd had sex. A week, at least. Nine days? Ron felt his cock twitch hopefully at the thought of sex with Hermione, but he squashed that idea and rinsed the grime away. There'd be time for that soon enough.
The water shut off as Ron stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. He cleared steam from the mirror and checked his new cut in his reflection. It was deeper than he'd thought, and definitely still stung.
"So are we going to the Healer's wing?" Harry came up next to him, sliding his belt through the loops of his jeans. Ron reached across him for his own jeans and shirt.
"Not a chance. I'm going home. I'm going to collapse into bed. In the morning, I'm going to wake up and shag my wife. Then, I'm going back to sleep. After that, maybe Hermione'll fix it."
Harry opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off when Robards came back into the bathroom.
"Sounds like a delightful plan, Weasley. But, I'm afraid it'll have to wait a bit longer."
Ron, along with the rest of the men in the room groaned. Robards put his hands up to stop the noise.
"Not everyone, mind. Just Weasley and Potter." Cheers erupted in place of the groaning so loudly that Harry and Ron had to strain to hear their commander's next words.
"We've got a few noise and disruption complaints from a pub. You two just go and look around. I doubt you'll need to take anyone in. Look around, give some warnings, if you need. After that, you can take off." Robards clapped Ron on his uninjured shoulder and examined the hurt one. "Slap some dittany on that before you leave, Weasley." He said jovially before turning to walk back out the door.
Ron and Harry sighed in tandem and Ron resignedly unfurled his jeans. Harry reached into the first aid cabinet and brought out the dittany bottle. Ron pulled on a black shirt.
"What do you think?" He asked. "Ginny?"
Harry brought the bottle down to the counter with a snap. "Yeah. Ginny."