A/N not mine, I own nothing but the plot.

This is my reply to AVbabe's challenge to use the phrase,

Man up and grow some balls, cupcake.

I hope I do it justice. It is a Babe.

Lynda

Grow a Set

"Damn it!" I yelled as I kicked my tire. "Shit!"

Now, I'm hopping around like an idiot. I'm pretty sure I broke my foot. The freaking POS that I'm driving around has finally gave up the ghost and went to the garage in the sky. I don't really mind, but I'm alongside of the turnpike, in Philly. They don't call it the surekill for nothing.

Cars are whizzing by at ungodly speeds, that don't stop. The number one rule on this stretch of the Pennsylvania turnpike is always keep moving and there is a deadly crash, on average, once a week. All I wanted to do was go to the damn outlet malls in Hershey for the day. Grandma Mazur's birthday was coming up and I wanted to find her something special.

I get back in my car, on the passenger side, and grab my cell phone. I figured I'd try Joe, since we were back together. I hit speed dial number four and waited. It went to voice mail. I left him a message and pray he calls me soon.

I can feel the draft shaking my car as others went flying by within an inch of mine. I was terrified. Thirty minutes later I tried him again. This time he answered.

"What?!" he shouts.

"Joe, my car broke down alongside the surekill. Can you please come get me? I'm scared to death."

"I can't. Deal with it."

"What the hell, Joe."

I heard none other than Terri Gilman in the background telling him to come back to bed.

"Seriously, Joe. We have been back together for almost two months and your fucking Terri. That's just perfect. I'm done with your sorry ass."

"Wrong again. You and I will be married by the end of next month whether you want to or not."

"Go to hell!"

I hung up on him and pressed speed dial number one. Ranger picked up right away.

"Babe."

I took this to mean what's wrong.

"I'm stuck on the side of the PA turnpike in Philly."

"Be there in thirty."

True to his word he was there in thirty minutes. He asked me why I didn't call Morelli. I explained to him what happened. He got an evil glint in his eye. Crap, he was planning something. I could see it.

He called someone and said, "Operation Crate drop is a go."

"Uhhh, Ranger, what is operation crate drop?"

"Babe."

We made our way back to Haywood and Ranger took me upstairs to seven. He wanted to talk to me. Crap, that's never good. First he wanted Bobby to check out my foot.

"Well, Pele, you bruised it pretty bad, but I don't think anything is broken."

I looked at him and had to ask, "Who the hell is Pele?"

Ranger and Bobby both burst out laughing. Bobby wrapped up my foot and told me to stay off of it awhile.

When he left, Ranger carried me to the bedroom and helped me change into one of his t-shirts. He laid down next to me on his side. He had a strange look in his face before he began to talk.

"You and Morelli are done for good, now?"

"Yes," I replied timidly.

"How would you feel about a trip to Atlantic City tonight?"

"Depends on why?"

"Well, you see, that finger on your left hand looks a little bare. I think you need some bling on it along with a name change."

"What?! Are you asking me to marry you? I thought you said your love comes with a condom, not a ring."

"Nope, I realized you and I both need a ring. So, what do you say?"

"I will have to say, Yes."

We were married that evening. When we returned to Rangeman Ranger's phone rang. He chuckled when he looked at the caller id and put it on speaker.

"You bastard! Where the fuck am I?" Yelled a very pissed of sounding Morelli.

"Man up and grow some balls, Cupcake! You were in the military, figure it out." Ranger laughed as he hung up on him.

"What third world country did Operation crate drop occur in?" I asked.

"No third world country. I dropped him in the middle of Pennsylvania. Let's see how long it takes him to get back."

I couldn't help but laugh my ass off. Maybe he'd get stuck on the turnpike.

A/N I hope you all enjoyed it! There is a section of the PA turnpike near Philly that the locals call the surekill. Trust me there is good reason for it to be called that, I've driven it once...never again. AC wasn't worth that nightmare on the way home, when I lived in PA. They have some of the worst maintained roads in the country... trust me. If you didn't destroy your car with the potholes... then the never ending shoddy roadwork by Penndot did it for you.

Oh, and a virtual cookie for the person who can tell me who Pele is...one of my favorite all time athletes, but what sport did he play... I'll write a one shot of your choice to the person who gets it right.