Title: Dear Sam 3 Author: Istannor Series: TOS Part: 1/1 Rating: PG 13 Codes: Lang. Summary: These are the letters of one Starship Captain, to his big brother, Sam. Disclaimer: These are the characters of Paramount and Viacom, they own them I only check 'em out from the library. I promise to bring 'em back. Stardate 1670.5 Dear Sam, I am sorry if the last two letters sounded maudlin. That wasn't my intention. Yes, I have been taking your advice. I have been very careful to try to allow McCoy and Spock to find their personal peace. I had to intervene that day in the hydroponics lab because they were at each other's throat. I know Spock's lack of acceptance of his human half sticks in McCoy's gullet, but there is not a damn thing McCoy can do about it by hollering at Spock. I also know that McCoy's rampant emotionalism grates on Spock's nerves, at least it would if Spock would admit to the having nerves. This gets tiresome. They are like two little brothers warring for my attention and my support against each other. I need them to stop fighting each other and start pulling together for me. The three of us can create magic. I feel it sometimes, like glitter surrounding us. It shimmers and settles over everything we touch. We won't make it back to Earth if they keep fighting the bits. I need a matched team that pulls together. There I am with the horses again. I'm just a farm boy after all. I will have to scheme on the both of them. I didn't want to manipulate the situation, but I can't wait any longer for my command team to grow up. Our Grandfather used to say, that a man is only as good as the friends he has to back him. If that is the case, I better get a portable photon torpedo tube, because they will be so busy fighting while the ship is going up in flames, that we will all be crispy critters before they notice the heat. Yes, I really do care about Spock. He is the gentlest soul I have ever met, not to mention brilliant as anything. You know I love brilliance; it is sexy in a woman and attractive in a man. There is nothing better than making love to a smart woman. Damn, now I'm getting horny. Back to Spock. I wish I could kick his father's ass, for what he did to him. Our father was never there, but I knew he loved me, even if I screamed at him and at one point hated him, for not being there for me. He took it with grace, taught me everything he could, and always told me he loved me. I think the certainty of my families' love is all that has gotten me through the rough times. I can't imagine who I would be if I hadn't had that. It was hard enough being different, when I finally figured out I was. I had no idea that a normal kid didn't do navigational calculations in his head or learn Vulcan from the Globalnet at seven. I really thought all children discussed military tactics by mail with one of their parents. I did things because my brother, and my Father, and my Grandfather, and my Mother could do it. Everything just came too easy. I know I studied, but I liked to study, Sam, because I liked to know the answers. It wasn't all that hard. I don't really remember our parents ever commenting on anything I did. Maybe it is as you say and they tried to warn us. I must have been too young or too stupid to hear them. I thought it was all sort of accepted as normal. I can remember when I got to school and the crap started. Most of the kids called me weird, a smartass, geek, nerd. I spent a lot of wasted energy proving I could throw a ball as far, or run as fast, or jump as high, or be as mischievous as the next kid. I also learned early not to reveal everything I knew; it made, and still makes, people nervous. Luckily, you guys took my goofiness in stride and by the time I was twelve, I think I had learned to accept who I was. Okay, okay, I am not Pavlov's dog. Yeesh. I know Sam, I am in the 99th percentile of human intelligence, with the ability to read people like books, and a familial predisposition for "hunches". No, I can't take any pride in it, because it was not something I earned, except by accident of birth. By the way, I am not a depressive jerk. In fact, I think I was the happiest kid on the planet, until Grandpa died and I got sent to Tarsus. Strange how 6 short months can redefine your entire life. I really am okay with my life, so stop fretting. After all, I'm a hero. Isn't that what everyone wants to be when they grow up? I really have no intention of discussing Tarsus with you. This is about Spock and Bones. I said all of that stuff, to help clarify how different Spock's childhood was from mine. I think he has never had a true friend, and I plan on being that to him. Why, James Kirk are you choosing to befriend a Vulcan who is more distant and reserved than any other Vulcan you have ever met? Okay me, I will answer that. I have no frigging idea. He calls to me, on a level I don't understand, I just accept. I feel him struggling to get out of the prison he has built for himself. It reminds me of the prison I lived in after Tarsus. I was so filled with guilt and remorse, and an overwhelming sense of being unworthy to have lived, when so many better people died. I denied myself joy, love, solace, and any semblance of normalcy. I dedicated myself to paying back the universe for sparing me, even though I was a murderer many times over. I was not just grim when I began at the Academy, I was driven. No wonder Finnegan hated me. I've decided that Spock reminds me of me. McCoy on the other hand is as free with his emotions as I would like to be. He is funny, and wise, and actually a brilliant surgeon, if he can keep his mouth shut long enough to cut. He literally speaks first and thinks ten minutes later. At first, I thought that was all he was, now I'm not so sure that the whole act isn't calculated. I think I will invite him on shoreleave with me and see what he's like away from the ship and on solid ground. He truly is a landlubber at heart. Too bad starships can't go to ground, he'd be ecstatic if we did. Late at night, when I am alone on my silver lady and looking at the stars through the observation port, I am as content as a man can be, almost. I feel the lack of the one thing that use to define my life, love and acceptance. It probably is counterproductive to state the obvious, but being the Captain is...like being a rogue planet. I have no sun to warm me on my travels through space. Okay, yes, you are right, Sam. Had I known how lonely it would be, I probably would've found someone crazy enough to marry me and bring them on board in the science lab, or someplace safe like that. Sure, I would like someone to hold me at night, and the hard on I wake up with every morning sure as shit tells me I'd like to hold someone. Yes, I would like someone to run their fingers through my hair. Yes, I'd like to tell my secrets and let the Captain routine drop, for just awhile, and be me. Instead, I have to scheme on my CMO and my First, to keep them from killing each other, and hope and pray that one day I will have a true friend out of one, or the other of them. If not, this is going to be a long five years mission. Love, JT PS: Tell Aurelan that chocolate cake really doesn't stand up well to interstellar transport, but the crumbs were great. The cake, or what it had become, got here in time for my birthday. What did she write on the top? I'm afraid the words were totally unrecognizable. Hug the boys. No, I haven't found the Andorian Space Assassin yet, so tell Peter to hold his horses. I 'm so glad your other two have gotten too old for this. But, I do love being an Uncle, have some more kids, you can afford it. At least you can put all that practicing you and Aurelan do to good purpose. And you talk about me. You're the one always in rut.