"Do I look hideous to you?" John Munch stood, arms spread wide, his normally crisp suit slightly rumpled and his face atypically full of question.

Fin glanced up from his paper.

"No. You're a great piece of ass." He said, staring back down at the document.

"Ha ha," The taller man glared at him, "You didn't even look, Fin!"

The African-American rolled his eyes and tore his gaze from the very important piece of paper which he had still to decipher-he really hated legal-lingo-to stare at his bedraggled partner. He looked from the slightly scuffed loafers and up along his partner's skinny legs clad in black material, then scanned his torso before finally reaching Munch's face which was wearing an expectant expression.

"Well?"

"You look fine, John."

"Okay, then why have I become repellent to all women? I ask them out, politely, I may add, and before they even give me a chance, it's a big fat no. What is it? Is it the hair, the suit? What?"

Fin grinned.

"Maybe it's 'cos you're neurotic."

"Oh, shut up." John collapsed dejectedly into the chair opposite Fin's.

"So," said Fin, eyes glinting with mischief, "Who turned yo' skinny ass down this time?"

John hid his face in his hands and a muffled grunt emitted from in-between his long fingers.

"Sorry," Fin said, patronisingly, "Didn't quite catch that."

"Casey," growled John. "And you know, Fin, it would help if you weren't enjoying this so much."

But Fin had covered his face and was laughing loudly.

"She said I wasn't her type."

"What's her type?" asked Fin through his snickering.

"Not old." Said John, gloomily.

"Man, that's cold!" Fin grinned, "Mind you, she's cold, youd've been kinder to yourself by asking out Cragan."

"Yeah, he'd have given me a great time," Said John, sarcastically "Thank you, Odafin, for your never-fail dating advice, I'll just become gay and ask out my boss, I'll make the papers and shed this annoying dignity habit I have."



Fin's smile wavered slightly as he laid his eyes upon Detective John Munch, deflated and down-trodden, head in his hands-it was a pitiful sight.

"Listen, man, it's not like we're all great on the dating side of things! Elliot's going through a divorce and Olivia's too much of a ball-buster to keep any man in her life for long and as for me, I haven't slept with a woman in months," Said Fin, his voice slightly gloomier than it had been only minutes ago, "It's part of the job, man."

John stared at him dolefully.

"Come on, bro," urged Fin, "You're no different than me or Elliot...or Olivia, but for a whole different reason..."

Still no answer.

"Ok, well how 'bouts I take you out tonight?" Fin was getting desperate.

John raised his head, a slow, evil smile growing across his features.

"Are...are you asking me out on a mandate?"

"What...no!" protested Fin.

"You are," grinned John, pointing at his horrified partner, "You said 'Can I take you out,' like you're my escort!"

"You're crazy!"

"So, Fin, how about tomorrow at eight? That okay? It's a mandate!" And with that John stood, straightened his tie and strolled off without another word leaving Fin gaping after him.