The story goes:
You all probably know my undying love for Benson. And Curtis. And Boxer. And, well, pretty much any woman who knows how to handle a gun and looks mighty fine while doing it (and so I wouldn't seem completely shallow, add to that: is smart, compassionate, strong and, very possibly, slightly damaged).
Maxi (the chocolate flavored
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*pokes your Muse* BAD! HETERO BAD!
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I'm begining to understand, yes. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. I yet have to see Prentiss kick down a door while wearing a Kevlar vest and generally demonstrate some serious bad ass attitude. THEN I'll undrstand completely. Until then, my Muse is holding me hostage. Did you know she made me look at a naked picture of Shemar Moore? Outrage!
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Oh, and I didn't yell. I just threatened you.
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I think it's all that chocolate talk from before that's affecting me.
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