A/N: This was written for the The Last Ship Standing Competition on the HPFC. I've used the following prompts:
ACTION: something must fall
SONG: Far Away by Nickelback
Molly was standing in the kitchen of The Burrow, preparing breakfast. She was the only one yet to be awake and she loved the peace and quietness of the early hour. The children had been home from Hogwarts for two days now and already she secretly longed for the days that the house wouldn't bustle with 'Mum, could you do this?' or 'Mum, have you seen my…' anymore. She loved all her children dearly and loved having them around but as soon as they were home they seemed to think they were staying in some sort of hotel, and she would find dirty laundry everywhere. After two weeks of Christmas holidays, the house always looked like a tornado had passed through it, not to speak of the summer holidays. This time, the house was even fuller than usual, for today she and Arthur were celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, so even Bill and Charlie were home.
The bread was already in the oven and she was now mixing the dough for pancakes. With a smile on her face, she mused on the past years. She couldn't believe it had been twenty-five years already since they had eloped and gotten married. She still remembered the look of disapproval on their parents' faces. Absentmindedly, she fidgeted with the now worn and slightly tattered ring of cherry wood with the ember stone that Arthur had given her as an engagement ring. He had apologised for the fact that he couldn't afford a gold-and-diamond ring, but she had loved the ring instantly, and still did. It was still the most precious thing she owned.
Suddenly, she felt two arms envelop her and someone nuzzle in her hair. Arthur.
"Good morning beautiful," he said and kissed the back of her hair. "I missed you."
She laughed. "It's only been an hour or so, dear."
"Hmm, I think that's already far too long to be away from me."
"You're very good at exaggerating, you know that?"
"What are you making?" Arthur inquired, changing the subject. "It smells delicious."
"I'm making pancakes. But you probably smell the bread in the oven."
"I love your fresh-baked bread. It's almost as delicious as you are."
"You're not getting any extra pancakes," she tutted.
"I'm serious," Arthur protested. "You're just as gorgeous as you were on the day we married."
"You're a flirt, Arthur Weasley."
"How could I not be with you around?" His hands were slowly rubbing her abdomen and he nibbled on her ear. "I could just eat you, you know, that's how delicious you are."
"Arthur!" she hissed. "The children could come down any minute."
"Nah, they're vast asleep. You know teenagers: they won't wake for at least another hour."
In the mean time, his hands had travelled further upwards until he cupped her breasts. He gently squeezed them, eliciting an involuntary moan from Molly. After twenty-five years of marriage, he knew all the right places to touch to turn her on. She tilted her head a little and their lips met in a slow but passionate kiss. Arthur moved in a little closer, pinning her between his body and the counter.
"My, you really are hungry," she giggled as she felt his arousal against her bum.
He kissed her collarbone whilst rubbing her nipples and she moaned again. "Mmmm Arthur…"
Suddenly the door burst open.
"Mum, Fred and George said you were making waffles, can I have so…." Ron froze midsentence.
Molly swiftly turned around and in doing so, the bowl with the pancake dough started to glide from the counter. With a loud bang it fell on the kitchen floor, shattering to pieces and splattering dough all over.
"What on earth…" Ron said. "What the hell were you doing?" he then yelled.
Arthur and Molly looked at each other, both crimson.
"You were going to have sex, weren't you?" Ron said accusingly. "In the kitchen! Ew!"
His face contorted. "That's gross. You're my parents!"
"Well, I can only hope that later, you'll find someone you're still as attracted to after twenty-five years of marriage as I am to your mother," Arthur said and pulled Molly in for a kiss.
"I do not want any more brothers or sisters!" Ron was getting hysterical now.
Molly couldn't help herself and laughed, partly out of embarrassment of being caught in a compromising situation by her youngest son. "Oh Ron, if I had a baby every time your father and I had sex, you'd have a whole lot more than just six siblings."
"But you're ancient!" Ron howled.
"Ron! Don't talk about your mother like that," Arthur scolded.
"I was talking about the both of you. It's disgusting." Ron stormed out of the kitchen. "I'm so not having pancakes for breakfast!" they heard after the door had slammed.
"You knew!" they heard him howl moments later. For a second they wondered whom he was talking to, then they heard a laughter that was unmistakably coming from the twins.
"You sent me in there knowingly, and now I'm scared for life thanks to you two!"
More laughter from the twins.
"Ah, did ickly Ronniekins see something he didn't want to see?" Fred teased – or was it George?
"Shut up!" Ron yelled and they heard his footsteps move away. A little later, they heard a door slam somewhere above them and they knew Ron was in his room again.
In the kitchen, Molly looked at Arthur, still a bit embarrassed. "Well, I'd better get this mess cleaned up," she muttered, "Before any more of them barge in."
Arthur lifted her chin. "He'll get over it," he soothed. "I'll talk to him later today. And I'll make sure to have a word with Fred and George as well. Here, let me help you clean this up."
After they had cleaned up the dough and the pieces of the scattered bowl, Molly sighed.
"Oh Arthur, perhaps we're getting too old for this."
He planted a kiss on her forehead. "Nonsense. We're not old."
Molly didn't look convinced. "What were we even thinking? What if Ron had barged in on us fifteen minutes or half an hour later?"
"Well, I don't think we had seen him for the rest of the holidays then," Arthur chuckled. "But don't worry about it. You know I love you. And I will continue to love you until we are old and wrinkled and sitting in our armchairs. And if old age makes us walk bent, we'll still find a way to dance and make love."
"Is that a promise?" she said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.
"Of course it is."
"Well, the bread still has another hour or so, so we could always head back upstairs.…"
"I really like that idea," Arthur grinned. "I'll might just forgive you for leaving me alone for far too long this morning."
"Oh shut up," Molly said, but her eyes twinkled. After twenty-five years of marriage, she was just as much in love with her husband as on the day they met and she hoped that after another twenty-five they would still be the way they were now. "Happy anniversary love."
"Happy anniversary," Arthur echoed, and then followed her up the stairs.