A ring kept the weirdos at bay? What? Why? Ron stared at her, features masked with an incredibly amount of uncertainty. Wedding rings intimidated weirdos. Who knew? Maybe that meant that they were afraid she was married to some big, muscular, prize-fighter kinda bloke. If that was really the picture that they had in their minds, then maybe that wasn't so bad. Ron was actually pleased that she was wearing the ring. Not because he was quite ready for the whole married life yet - no, Ron still had a lot to learn about both women and Steph before he went there - but because it meant that the chances of her hitting it off with someone else that wasn't him were spread to a minimum now. There was still the occasional bastard or two who thought that they had every right to a man's claimed person (could one claim a person?). Ron felt like maybe Steph was more than able to deal with guys like that since she fought crime and all that, but it still worried him. What if she liked them better? What if they didn't leave her alone after she refused them?
Clearing his throat, Ron shook his head and looked down again. Her hand was covering the band; Ron looked back up to her, figuring that she was probably ashamed of it or something. His pale skin flushed red and, almost instantly, Ron was turning away from her. He made a show of plucking a comic book from a rack, turning it over sideways to peer at the cover distractedly. Or as distractedly as one thinking about a woman in Stephanie's position could get. She was wearing the ring that he got her. The ring! Ron wasn't even wearing his. He hadn't chucked it or sold it off - yet - but to think that someone would willingly declare that they were married to him, even if it was to keep those aforementioned weirdos off her back...
"That's brilliant," he finally said, setting the comic book aside. "I mean, it's your ring. I reckon you can do what you want with it, yeah? Does it work? The ring, that is?"