I don't know where this moment of randomness came from, but it seemed so like them I couldn't not write it. Insert usual disclaimer here, no profit made, etc.

Im stbrvin6 whats 4 dimner babe?

She frowned at the display on her phone, trying to decide what part to be angry about first.

The spelling errors meant that he was texting and driving, something they had argued about before, only this was worsened by the fact that he was driving her truck. And the "whats for dinner" implied that he was expecting her to be relatively domestic and have food ready for her man like a good little woman. That was an irritating thought; plus they both knew he was the better cook.

But what really rubbed her wrong was that last word. She was a pertinacious investigative journalist, not some brain-dead valley girl. She had been halfway around the world and survived things that would have ended a lesser woman, had been in fistfights and firefights and had killed guys twice her size. Men did not call Elena Fisher babe.

But other men did not regularly take her halfway around the world to strange and exciting places and show her its hidden wonders and terrors, nor did they risk their life for hers or stay days and days in some tiny mountain village waiting for her to recover from a grenade blast. Other men didn't hold her hair back for her when she drank too much or bring her coffee in bed the way she liked or say things to make her laugh if she was in a bad mood. No other man could touch her like he did or make her feel so good it almost hurt and leave her satisfied and sleepy and breathless in the afterglow.

"Marry me," he had murmured between a flurry of unexpected kisses, the memory making her smile despite herself. He had a ring in one hand and a pistol in the other, and she was kissing him back and saying yes before she knew what was happening, forgetting they were being chased even as the voices of the pirates echoed behind them.

She figured if all that came with a mildly annoying pet name it was a small price to pay, her anger fading fast as she thumbed her reply to Nate. Besides, she had not been Elena Fisher for some time now, and Elena Drake had learned to be tolerant of her husband's personality and quirks. It was only a word after all. Bring something to grill on ur way home and I will light the coals. We r out of beer also, u know what I like :)