So here's another fluffy one shot. Every single time I try to write another chapter of that stupid multi fic chapter I always end up with a one shot. I don't know how it happens.

And thank you to the lovely egypt-chan for betaing, coming up with the title, and letting me steal her idea of Shelby being a horrible cook. I couldn't really find a good spot to put the steamy kiss but I guess that just means that I'll be writing more. 3

"Shelby, can't you do it tonight?" Will grumbled. He lay exhausted on the couch, beer in one hand and a stack of Spanish papers in another.

Shelby just stood in front of him, hands on her hips, "You know perfectly well I can't, Will."

"Since when did I become the designated chef here?" He asked as he scribbled an F on yet another paper.

"Since you decided you didn't want to have to replace the microwave- again." She replied firmly.

Will set the papers aside and his beer on the table, sitting up so he could pull Shelby into his lap. She tried to squirm away but he held on tight, kissing down her jaw line and getting a giggle in response.

"Come on, baby, you haven't taken care of dinner in a month. Just go and heat up some of the pasta from yesterday." He whispered in her ear.

Shelby sighed dramatically in response, "Fine. But only because I love you so much."

"I love you too." He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips before she got up and stomped into the kitchen, wearing her most petulant expression.

She grabbed the Tupperware container holding the cold, left-over pasta from yesterday, all the while sighing loudly to communicate her displeasure to Will. She gathered he got the message because she heard a chuckle coming from the other room.

Shelby hated cooking. Shelby hated cooking appliances. Shelby hated eating anything she cooked because she usually managed to mess it up somehow. And now that she had found somebody who could cook for her, Shelby hated that she was once again, forced to make her own dinner.

She grabbed something to cover the pasta with so it wouldn't explode and make a huge mess, then shoved it into the microwave and pressed start. Then went back into the living room and sat next to Will, who had gone back to grading papers, waiting for the food to be done.

After a few minutes, though, a loud bang, followed by a shrill crackling, came from the kitchen. Shelby's eyes grew wide and Will's head shot up. They looked at each other with trepidation and then hurried into the kitchen.

It looked like somebody had set off fireworks inside the microwave with the bright orange sparks flying around inside. Will grabbed the fire extinguisher and put out the flames, then bent down to examine their source.

"Shelby!" Will exclaimed, "How many times do I have to tell you not to put tinfoil in the microwave? Didn't you learn anything the first time?"

Shelby apologized profusely and tried her best to look sincere, but a hint of a smirk couldn't be kept from played at her lips. She wasn't going to be allowed near the kitchen anytime soon.

Mission accomplished.