A/N: Merry Christmas Eve! Here's a little gift :) Not holiday themed but plenty of fluffiness to fit your seasonal happiness.

Lily snuggled further into James' lightly muscled chest, his lanky arm coming to wrap around her shoulders naturally, bringing the cozy knit blanket with it. As her contented sigh blew across his chest, warming it against the chilled, salty seaside air, James carded his fingers through her loose curls, "Are you ever sad we don't fight anymore?"

Huffing a tired laugh, Lily fiddled with his undone dress shirt, the pearly buttons glinting in the pale light, "We argued for a quarter of an hour yesterday over the taste of margarine versus real butter."

James' chest rumbled with his answering chuckle, matching the crashing of the waves against the cliffs below them, "That not a real fight though."

With a snort, Lily lifted her head to level a twinkling emerald glare at her companion, "Care to give an example then? Because all I remember is me holding you in a head lock fourth year until you admitted you hadn't been to a film premiere."

"See? That's what I mean!" James nearly shouted into the dark night, unintentionally causing the crackling flames in their fire pit to flare in his excitement, " I think we're so comfortable with each other we don't fight."

The red head narrowed her eyes toward his wildly gesticulating hands as they came dangerously close to her gently sloped nose. Noting he apparently expected a reply, she raised her auburn brows in invitation, leveling a careful flick to the tip of his nose.

Expression darkening at her assault, he gripped her hands dramatically, "We're like a boring old married couple."

Lily lifted their joined fingers, pushing his left hand toward his bespectacled eyes, presenting the recently dressed ring finger specifically, "We just got back from our wedding reception."

Shaking his head dejectedly, James let his head drop to her slip shoulder with a sigh, "All the more reason to be sad."

Leaning back toward the tufted armrest, Lily chuckled and settled her husband comfortably into the crook of her neck, fingers sliding through his silky locks familiarly, "Right."

Warm breath tickling her collarbone, James answered matter-of-factly, "Have to nip these things in the bud, Mrs. Potter."

Despite his apparent concern with keeping their propensity for…lively debate alive, James and his lips soon became highly interested in the cluster of freckles at the base of Lily's neck and that spot just behind her ear that brought out sighs he dreamt about.

Soon, he'd worked his way up to her jawline, his hips cradled between hers, blanket long forgotten as it trailed along the worn wooden planks of the deck. Between long, slow kisses, Lily breathed, "I've an idea," another kiss, "Something that will most definitely cause a row."

James' lips left hers, drawing a small whimper from her and a smirk from him, as he busied himself with working the buttons of her cardigan open slowly, warming the newly exposed skin with his mouth. "A good one?"

Hands massaging the base of his neck enticingly, Lily hummed in question, her train of thought long gone in the face of James' ministrations.

Apparently aware of her worked-up state and its cause, James pushed up on his elbows, hovering over her carefully, crooked spectacles, reddened lips quirked mischievously, "Care to delay this discussion?"

Later, tucked together snugly in the sprawling four poster that dominated the only bedroom in the snug cottage in Cornwall, James let his slim fingers drift up and down Lily's spine, tickling the bare skin and bringing up goose bumps banished by the hastily lit logs in the cobbled fireplace.

Lily tangled their legs together, drawing random shapes across his chest absentmindedly, "Still think we're old and boring?"

"That was hardly a fight. More like a-"

"There's pretty much no way to finish that sentence where I won't retch," Lily drawled, James pressing an indignant hand to his chest as he scoffed.

After trading a few playful kisses that turned more heated, they eventually settled down again, mere inches between their faces, fingers knit together, breaths mingling intimately.

Just as Lily's almond shaped eyes began drifting closed contentedly, the cracking fire and steady waves lulling her to sleep, James spoke, "So. About the fighting."

Groaning, Lily opened one emerald orb, "I'm not going to sleep until we handle this, yeah?"

"You seemed alright with me keeping you up not too long ago, Evans."

"That's Potter to you," Lily grinned, her husband's expression mirroring her own as he answered, "We may be too happy to argue."

Lily pressed her lips to the underside of his jaw, "The pride of Gryffindor quidditch giving up on a challenge?"

"I'm not hearing any suggestions," James challenged, gently rolling them until she was one again tucked beneath him comfortably.

"Well I've got one."

James quirked a brow dubiously. Sticking her tongue out childishly, Lily pinched his chest and pushed him onto his back, "It's better than the time I made you read Jane Austen and Peter stress ate Remus' entire stash of sugar quills."

"He was a little less gentle with Wormtail that full moon," James mused. "So what's your big controversial conversation?"

Slipping from beneath the mound of covers, Lily slipped James' too big white dress shirt up over her shoulders, buttoning a few to keep it closed.

Momentarily forgetting their discussion, James' eyes drifted down her slim legs as she puttered around, tossing their discarded clothes into the oversized chintz armchair nestled near the fireplace. Disappearing into the dark closet, thumps and frustrated swears sounding in her wake, the newly christened Mrs. Potter emerged with further rumpled hair and an old gramophone, dust clinging to the turntable and her lashes alike.

"I thought I remembered Mrs. Graham saying something about a record player," Lily explained setting it on the small coffee table, rumpling the decoratively strewn lace doilies that covered its polished surface in the process. With a flick of her wand, the grime and dirt disappeared from the instrument, leaving it gleaming like new while she dug through the closet once more, returning with arms laden with a half dozen records of varying sizes, blowing a stray lock from her eyes.

"Ready for our first fight as husband and wife?" Lily smirked placing the first single on the turntable, scratchy sounds breaking the silence until steadily beating drums thumped through the gramophone, followed by a man's voice reminding them how everyone had twisted 'last summer.'

Lily grinned, tossing her hair and mimicking the dance described and waving her hands toward James where he lay reclined against the rumpled pillows. He mirrored her expression, scrambling among their discarded clothes until he found his pants and tugged them over his slim hips.

Once he stepped closer, Lily grabbed his hands and pulled him into the dance with her, "Come on old man."

"Are you telling me this is better than the Hobgoblins?"

Releasing one hand and stepping back, Lily twisted into James' arms tightly, wriggling her hips against his, "Uh. No question."

"Stubby Boardm-"

"Do not get going on that James, you and Sirius have an unhealthy fixation with that man," Lily challenged, bringing one hand to his shoulder as the other remained clasped with his.

Soon enough, the song ended, their dancing becoming less organized and more competitive as the brief musical interlude continued. Once again, Lily moved to select a record but James brushed her away, "Let me."

Collapsing onto the loveseat with a content smile, Lily watched as James' face remained thoughtful as he shuffled through the meager selection, until a his mouth spread in a brilliant grin and he strode toward the turntable. "Picked a song for me Mr. DJ?"

"Just for you," James smirking as he fiddled with the arm, frowning in concentration as he tried to place the needle to the exact beginning of the track.

Stretching her chilly toes toward the newly livened fire – care of her trusty 10 and ¼ willow – Lily lounged backward carelessly, auburn locks draped over the worn tufting of the couch as her filched shirt rode up, exposing her smooth stomach. "Need some help there, Head Boy?"

"You're making me sound like I peaked in Seventh Year," James grumped, adjusting the turntable to fit the smaller record.

"Hardly. Considering you just married me today," Lily drawled.

With a triumphant fist raised above his wild, dark hair, James twisted the volume louder as high voices sang with a sort of choral drama and he shook his hips jerkily, "C'mon Lily."

He pulled her to a sitting position but her head dropped back in laughter as his gyrations continued, this time his bum was level with her face, "Am I enticing you, Mrs. Potter?"

Prodding him forward with the tips of her fingers, Lily giggled, "Of course dear."

The young Potters rode out the song, executing dance sequences that rapidly became less related to the style until Lily had James dropped back into a low dip, "You're quite ravishing Mr. Potter."

Unable to contain his laughter, he tumbled to the cozy hearthrug, bringing his young wife with him.

After rearranging limbs to avoid certain sensitive areas vital to continuing the Potter legacy, Lily ran her fingertips over the bow of his lips, the final strains of the pop tune spent. "I guess that didn't really start the type of row you were looking for."

"I s'pose not."

"But at least we both know we're excellent dancers," Lily chuckled, tickling his collarbone lightly.

James craned his neck to place a chaste kiss to the tip of her nose, "So, the question is, which one of us is the dancing queen?"

"Now that's a topic to start a war."