Summary: He's decided to take the chance. Maybe.

For those of you unfamiliar with these particular slang expressions: "buying the farm" refers to dying and "canoodling" refers to fooling around/petting.

Rated PG-13 for suggestive language

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To: alexeames@mcs.com

From: bobbygoren@mcs.com

Dearest Alex,

It's becoming harder to feign-

Pretending you are mundane

I find it quite daunting -

Not to get what I'm wanting

And neither you nor Dick Wolf will explain!

Quick! Stop the presses

Goren confesses!

"Earth shattering news

Eames lights my fuse

From her humor to the way that she dresses".

Since you know how to stop

A perp with one pop

It'd be nothing to scoff

At - Pissin' you off

A well placed knee to the groin and I'D drop!

But where'd be the harm

In exerting my charm?

Still it sure would be nice -

Some fatherly advice

Too bad that Dad bought the farm.

My manner's aloof

'Cause Mom instilled in me couth

But I know how to have fun

Once I've got the job done

My Dad taught me 'raisin' the roof'!

We spend so much time

Chasing down crime

Would it come to an end

If you were more than a friend?

Is the thought more ridiculous than sublime?

As with any man who is smart

You've a room in my heart

But if I lured you to bed

Would you mess with my head?

Or am I forgettin' to put the horse before the cart?

I'm presenting my case

Where I can't see your face

There are times it is hell

Reading people too well

At least an e-mail can just be erased.

In that red leather skirt

You sure disconcert

Though my mind's tried to dodge

The image is lodged -

Where I enjoy it each night for dessert

I can tango up a storm

And keep a girl warm

My hair may be thinning

But my smile is quite winning

I'm really still in excellent form

Girlfriends have been impressed

With moves of which I'm possessed

I'm not always geeky

I CAN be quite cheeky

As Irene and Lola will attest.

I've no skill with a thimble

But my fingers are nimble

My tongue can be glib

With more than ad lib

And my shoe size is not just a symbol.

I can cook a repast

That is hard to surpass

Octopus stew makes gals swoon

And dance to my tune

(Though the recipe leaves them aghast)

If we stood thigh to hips

And joined tongues and lips

Would it drive you insane?

Or would you just complain

That I put the sun into eclipse?

Warm chocolate sauce -

Would it make your eyes cross?

If I drew a fine line

From the base of your spine

Or would you consider that dross?

I'm a wine connoisseur

And a skilled raconteur

With some hot scented oil

I could make your blood boil

I've been told I'm a damn fine masseur!

If my lips were to trace

Their way 'cross your face

Would you commence to moan

Or order me home

In complete and utter disgrace?

My biggest fear

If I blew in your ear

You might start to titter

And though I'm no quitter

That would prolly drive me straight to a beer

When I was a boy

I dreamed of Helen of Troy

But while hers just launched ships

Your face would eclipse

Hers - like gold compared to some cheap alloy.

Where I'm passionate and dramatic

You're cool and pragmatic

So while I find myself yearning

To be watchin' you burning

Are the risks maybe too problematic?

Just how much do you hate

The thought of us on a date?

I won't seek to discover

How you feel 'bout my mother

If you say yes - well, I think it'd be great!

It puts you on the spot

But please give it some thought -

I find the concept delicious

Neither whimsy nor capricious

And I really believe we'd be hot!

Though not on the same page

In our feminist rage

I admire your face

While respecting your space

And I've needs I know YOU could assuage.

I am far too intense

To stand the suspense

If you consent to a date

I can't possibly wait

Till tonight for the event to commence.

So if you agree

While Deak's having his tea

We'll sneak out for a quickie

Unless you're too picky

To be caught canoodling with me!