Fair and Fine

Date:

6

Title: Fair and Fine
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 12,531
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy, Kirk/Spock, Spock/McCoy, Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: Even Vulcans have to mate. Jim wants to help Spock, and Leonard is under oath to ensure Kirk and Spock survive.
Warnings: explicit sexual content, intended for mature audiences
A/N: Well, I took a peek at the ST Ongoing comic #21 and was like – no. Just no. I think that’s what spurred the muse into action here. Also, have I ever written this troupe before? I don’t think I have!
Also at AO3


It was the pon farr that did it.

Vulcan males suffered from a kind of biological (and terribly secretive) condition which meant every seven years they either mated or died. With Vulcan gone and Spock’s betrothed along with it, Captain Kirk’s First Officer admitted in all likelihood his life would come to an end. Jim immediately turned the Enterprise around for New Vulcan at a warp speed that rattled the ship but Commander Spock just looked more resigned than grateful. In that moment Leonard McCoy realized Spock preferred death to the fate which awaited him at the colony.

He couldn’t say he understood the reasoning behind that preference; and there wasn’t enough time to spare to wrangle an explanation, even a partial one, from the recalcitrant Vulcan. So it was going on gut alone that Leonard took his captain aside and said, “We’re not gonna make it to New Vulcan, Jim. Something has to be done now.”

Jim, Leonard’s best friend and occasional lover, was silent for a long minute. Then the man re-entered the section of med bay Leonard had cleared of staff so Spock could divulge his Vulcan secrets without too much discomfort and stared at his second-in-command before asking abruptly, “Does it have to be another Vulcan?”

“Captain?” The movement of Spock’s head was painfully slow as he turned to observe Kirk’s expression. Whatever Spock was doing to subdue the full onset of the plak tow was clearly draining for him.

“Do you have to mate with another Vulcan, Spock?” Jim repeated too calmly.

“Not likely,” Leonard muttered from the side. “His mother was human, remember?”

“Captain?” Spock said again, or rather croaked, sounding so disoriented it hurt Leonard to hear him.

Jim stepped up to the bed and took Spock’s hand, a gesture Leonard had never seen anyone (except maybe Uhura, long ago) attempt before. In his right mind, Spock wouldn’t have allowed it.

“We’re going to help you,” an earnest Jim Kirk told his dying friend. “Whatever we can do, Spock, we’ll do it.”

He meant I’ll do it. Leonard had no illusions over that. Jim was essentially serving himself up to a hormone-crazed and very desperate Vulcan.

And because that Vulcan was Spock, someone whom Leonard sometimes disliked but always respected, his heart only ached a little in betrayal at the promise being made.

As Spock absorbed Jim’s words, a light gradually returned to his eyes—and with it, gratitude and the beginnings of a hope Leonard had expected to see earlier but hadn’t. The doctor swallowed and turned for the door.

What McCoy did not know then—nor did Jim know—was that the coherency and sense of self in those dark eyes would be lost within a stardate. When the blood fever took Spock, a stranger would claim his place. It is to that stranger Jim had pledged himself.

~~~

Spock almost ripped off an arm of an attending nurse. In the ensuing chaos, Leonard threw himself over Spock’s struggling body on the biobed and shouted orders for the strongest sedative they had. Someone pulled the crying woman out of the room and two other people tried to anchor Spock’s legs.

The Vulcan gave a unintelligible cry of rage and bucked beneath their weight. He sounded, Leonard thought, mindless.

It scared them all to pieces.

Leonard was never more grateful for the arrival of the hypospray. He dialed down the dosage just enough so it wouldn’t kill Spock and jabbed it into the straining muscles of the First Officer’s neck. It took far longer than it should have for Spock to go limp.

As Leonard crawled off the Vulcan’s body, he was shaking. His legs held him until he got to a chair at a corner desk. There he collapsed and commed Kirk.

“Sickbay to Bridge.”

“Bridge here,” a familiar voice answered. “Bones, you don’t sound good. What’s wrong?”

“It’s started, Captain” was all he said, unable to fully keep fear out of his voice.

A quick inhalation of breath was Kirk’s first response. Then the man said, “On my way. Kirk out.”

Leonard had Spock, thankfully still sedated, transferred to a seldom utilized area of the bay he privately termed the ‘holding cells’. After Jim’s decision, Leonard had had one of the rooms cleared for use. The decor was kept to the bare necessities: a sectioned area for the latrine and a bed. He knew better than to allow any object to remain there which could be turned into a weapon, since the reason Spock had been brought to Sickbay in the first place (where McCoy had figured out his body was set on a course to implosion) was because the Vulcan had torn through his quarters like an enraged animal, breaking everything within reach of his hands.

A cold sweat started along McCoy’s back as the unconscious Spock was deposited on the center of the bed and left free of restraints. Seconds later, Spock’s head twitched restlessly to the side.

“Out!” Leonard barked at his grim-faced orderlies. He followed closely on their heels, entering an adjoining room to activate the one-way observation mirror.

As he studied the tense body of the First Officer, suddenly all the numbers, all the predictions, seemed wrong to Leonard. There was no version of this where Jim came back intact. What they were doing was madness!

“I gave Sulu the conn,” a voice said from the open doorway. Jim entered. “He’ll take us through one of the safer sectors of the quadrant. Uhura agreed to field any transmissions from Command, if need be, to buy us time.”

Leonard turned to look at his captain and friend. “Jim, Spock might kill you.”

“He won’t.”

Leonard didn’t understand how Jim could sound so certain. “He tried to hurt one of my staff.”

“That’s not Spock.”

“Damn it!” Leonard snapped at Kirk, slapping a hand palm-down on the empty metal table beside him. “That’s what I’m talking about! He isn’t Spock right now, so the person who wants nothing more than to preserve your life is gone. You step in that room with him, Jim, and he might tear you to shreds instead of fuck you.”

Jim met and held his gaze. “Is this about my safety—or about me and you?”

Leonard stiffened. “What’re you saying? That I’m jealous?” The more he thought about the insinuation, the angrier he felt. “This is about your life, Jim—and I’m the jerk who’s jealous? If you think I lack the ability to be objective, you shouldn’t have pushed to have me as your goddamn Chief Medical Officer!”

Jim’s expression changed. The man moved toward him. “Bones… Bones, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Leonard knew his emotional response was bordering on out of control but couldn’t help it. “Don’t. Don’t come over here with those sad baby blues and play the ‘I’m sorry’ card. I don’t want to hear it, kid.” He turned away and said in a brusque tone, “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

A hand skimmed against Leonard’s shoulder blade. “You’re right,” Jim spoke from behind him, voice soft and—damn Kirk—apologetic. “I should be more nervous about what’s going to happen… but this is Spock. Spock and you. You’ll look out for me. I know it.”

Heart aching, Leonard drew in his shoulders in defeat. “I wish I had your faith, Jim.” He sighed and looked through the mirror at the Vulcan beginning to stir on the bed. “Promise me if it gets bad, you won’t try to suffer through it. I don’t care if—” He stopped and faced his captain and friend, amending what he had intended to say. “Spock isn’t you, Jim. If I have to pull you out, even at his expense, that’s what I’ll do. It’s what Spock would want me to do.”

Jim did not speak for a few seconds, just studied Leonard’s face. Then he pulled the doctor into a hug with the words “I know.”

Leonard gave into one need and returned the hug, wrapping his arms around Kirk and dropping his forehead to the man’s shoulder. “Be careful,” he whispered.

“Promise, Bones,” Jim whispered back.

~~~

Within the first five minutes following Jim’s entrance into the room alone, Leonard almost threw his good judgment out the window and put a stop to the whole plan. But he didn’t, instead managed to hold himself together and swallowed down a queasiness rising in his throat. Watching Kirk and Spock now, he was immensely grateful the Vulcan had not responded to Jim’s appearance by lashing out with violence. But that didn’t make it any easier to stay still and observe them through the mirror.

Spock had woken, his visage hard, eyes glittering like polished obsidian in the overhead lighting. He’d prowled the perimeter of the room over and over with his hands at his back looking, Leonard supposed, for a weakness in his cage. The only door was programmed against opening to his biometrics.

It was also evident the Vulcan was waiting on something—or someone.

The moment Jim had stepped across the threshold, Spock had pivoted on the ball of his foot and sprung into action; he was on Jim like a predator on prey in a matter of seconds. He backed Jim right up against the metal door, pinned him there, and splayed his hand against the side of Jim’s nose and cheekbone.

A mind meld was dangerous, nearly unquantifiable by medical standards (except by the damage done afterwards) and foreign to most humans. Jim didn’t pull away when Spock initiated the meld, didn’t even seem surprised by it, but Leonard knew if that had been him in Jim’s place, he would have fought out of fear.

The mind was sacred ground. The Vulcans adhered strictly to that tenet in their practices. Even non-telepathic races understood why it must be so.

Maybe there was something equally sacred about doing this during the pon farr. Leonard just didn’t know. And since he was working on so little knowledge (the databases had nothing on Vulcan mating rites), he had to function solely on trust and hope.

Jim, he thought helplessly, watching the two most important officers on the starship locked in a silent struggle. Jim, what is he doing to you?

It was awful, Leonard realized, when he couldn’t see the harm being done. That meant he would have even less idea of how to fix it.

At last, Spock eased his hand from Jim’s skin. Jim reacted by parting his lips, and Leonard was in a position to see how those lips glistened, how the breath hitched and the body coiled in anticipation.

Then the Vulcan dove down and claimed that mouth. The moment Kirk and Spock connected in a kiss swept through Leonard like a shock. His fingers dug against the hard edge of the table, which did nothing to stabilize his own reaction.

It had begun.

~~~

Some things Leonard had difficulty watching while at the same time remaining focused on Jim’s responses. He’d find his eyes moving from the sweat-slick, heavily breathing Jim to the looming figure that was Spock, where shadows seemed to congregate to add dramatic flare. It was too easy to become enraptured by those lean but surprisingly muscled thighs that powered through each thrust or to the plane of the flat stomach with its human-like trail of thin dark hair to the groin. Spock had a sharp jut to his hipbones and a wiry curve to his back, but nothing about him was insubstantial or weak.

Though Leonard had seen the Vulcan naked before, it had never been in this light, never been in the midst of a sexual congress that literally made Jim too senseless to stifle his moans or whimpers of pleasure.

If ever there had been a definitive image for the erotic, Leonard had discovered it in the grappling, groping, and sucking of Kirk and Spock.

Another groan from Jim regained Leonard’s attention. Spock drew back from and out of the human, a telltale sign he had achieved climax. Leonard checked the chronometer and made a note on his data padd. The refractory period between each orgasm for the Vulcan was much less than a human’s, which Leonard worried about with regards to the ability of Jim’s body to endure continual intercourse. Humans were known to be promiscuous but they weren’t impervious to physical strain by any means.

According to the data Leonard had accumulated so far, Spock would be ready for another round of sex in less than three minutes and the blood fever would ensure that he started it. There was enough time, the doctor decided, to slip in and take a reading from Jim. Leonard snatched up his tricorder, steeled himself, and entered the room.

The Vulcan’s head came up like a dog catching a scent. His unreadable, seemingly fathomless gaze tracked Leonard’s cautious trek along the far wall. Spock didn’t attack when Leonard finally approached the bed, but Spock didn’t leave the bed either. Leonard tried to calm any outward signs of nerves, just plain thankful his intermittent presence appeared to be tolerated. Though why that was, he couldn’t say. Maybe a part of Spock still existed somewhere beneath the cold mask, recognized that Leonard was only trying to help Jim.

…Unless, of course, to a Vulcan the human Leonard McCoy simply posed no threat of any kind. That was an infuriating thought but sadly one Leonard did not have time to indulge in.

Of the three of them, Jim was the only person oblivious to the tension in the room. With yet another groan, Jim rolled off his stomach and onto his back. He flopped his head to the side to look at Leonard, grin quirky and tired.

“Hey, Bones. Make this one quick, okay? He’s starting to feel a little anxious.”

Leonard quickly cut a sidelong glance at Spock. “Anxious isn’t the word, kid. Murderous, maybe.” The tricorder began to make its whirring noises, and Leonard focused on diagnostic output on its tiny screen. “You’re getting dehydrated. If I bring in a bottle of water, think he’ll let you drink it?”

“Don’t know. We could try.”

“Will do,” Leonard said. “No broken bones. No signs of tearing, thank god.” He studiously avoided mentioning the bruises and bites along Jim’s neck, shoulders and inner thighs. They could be fixed easily enough with a dermal regenerator, and if he recalled how each one got there, he would want to glance at Spock again. And Spock made Leonard nervous as well as some other feeling he couldn’t quite define.

“I told you I prepped myself in advance,” Jim was saying.

Leonard made a face at him, but that face didn’t last long. The doctor leaned in as far as he dared with Spock watching them so intently, so aggressively, and asked in a soft voice, “Still hanging in there?”

Jim reached out automatically to assure him but Spock shifted on the mattress and there was something like a growl rumbling from the Vulcan’s chest. Jim quickly retracted his hand and told Leonard instead, “I’m okay, Bones.”

Leonard swallowed, mouth dry, and implored Jim with his gaze. All you have to do is give the word, kid.

Jim added, voice matching the seriousness in his eyes, “You should go now.”

Leonard did, and not a moment too soon. Spock was pushing Jim into a new position before the lock on the door engaged.

~~~

The first cry Jim gave that held pain scared a decade off of Leonard’s life. His finger was poised over the button to call security before he made himself take a deep breath and properly assess the situation.

They were eighteen hours in. Jim had been allowed to sleep in sporadic stops and starts, as well as eat the nutrition packets Leonard stocked in a small bag by the bed. During those quick moments Jim was shoveling protein chews into his mouth, he would face the mirrored wall and talk to Leonard, saying Bones this, Bones that. Spock remained a ball of tense energy throughout the one-sided conversations, skirting his fingers possessively over Kirk’s skin or hovering at Kirk’s back when they weren’t physically touching. That the Vulcan allowed Jim to take respites at all gave Leonard the hope Spock’s need to mate was tapering off, or at least dwindling in intensity.

But while Jim slept, Spock rose from the bed and paced the room. Occasionally he stopped before the mirror and stared with uncanny precision at Leonard. All sense of safety had fled McCoy the first time that happened. The hawk-eyed stranger who was inhabiting Spock’s body had access to Spock’s knowledge and know-how of the ship, from its core systems to its infrastructure. The realization was frightening.

Inevitably Jim would wake up, make use of the facilities, and Spock would then have no more attention for threats which might be hovering at the fringes of the room; Jim was all that mattered.

Jim was everything.

This time Leonard could see something was different about the way they came together. Spock wasn’t brutal in his treatment of Jim but he was no less passionate, no less fierce than before. In fact, he acted like he wanted to turn Jim inside out—almost as if he was trying to permanently imprint himself on Jim so that Jim never looked at anyone else.

Maybe so that Jim never talked to the man behind the mirror again.

And Spock was going too far. Leonard heard that in the echo of Jim’s cry.

Fuck the situation, the doctor decided suddenly. His thought process did not need to be any more complicated than help Jim.

He leapt away from the table, one second watching Kirk and Spock rut through the mirror and the next in the same room with them. The slap of flesh became acutely real rather than a sound filtering through a speaker; flushed, wet skin was just within an arm’s length. The initial smell and heat of the room almost stopped the doctor in his tracks.

Then Leonard had the Vulcan’s shoulder in a two-handed grip and was cursing and tugging at the heavy body for all he was worth. He vaguely heard Jim gasp out his name or a warning. Probably both.

All Leonard would later recall was shouting Spock’s name, pleading with him to get off Jim this instant, damn it, can’t you see you’re hurting him, you blasted Vulcan! Then Spock was moving away, and Leonard was moving with him by an unforgiving grip about his neck, boot heels scraping against the ground as he was dragged backwards.

“SPOCK!”

The shout was Jim’s this time.

Leonard would have pointed out, “Well at least he’s off of you, kid” but he couldn’t breathe, let alone squeeze the words out of his throat. Spock was crushing them down.

Leonard’s back hit a wall. Behind the black spots dancing in front of his eyes was a gaze so mired in a living rage, Leonard knew he was looking at his own death.

Thunder filled the room. “DROP HIM! SPOCK! DROP HIM NOW!”

Kirk’s command demanded instant obedience. No one was more surprised than Leonard that it actually worked. Spock released his throat, and Leonard crumpled like a marionette with its strings cut at the Vulcan’s feet.

The sound of someone gasping desperately for air was him. Even with his vision not fully restored, Leonard shook himself into action and began to painstakingly crawl in the direction of the bed, determined that he would not die before getting Jim to safety.

Spock didn’t follow him or prevent him from his determined trek across the floor. Jim met him halfway, in a kind of half-stumble before his legs gave out and he dropped to his knees. Leonard latched onto the man immediately.

Jim’s face was bleached bone-white; the lines at the corners of his mouth carved from pain. “Are you all right?” Despite all, Jim tried to shake the answer out of Leonard. “Bones, are you all right?”

Leonard’s laugh came out as more of a croak. “Never better. Jim, where does it hurt?” He looked around helplessly for his missing tricorder, only to realize belatedly he had forgotten it in his mad dash to get inside the room.

Jim didn’t reply, so busy was he trying to inspect Leonard for a crushed windpipe. Leonard shoved the prodding hand away and coughed.

So this was what it felt like to be strangled by a Vulcan, the wry thought struck him. Well, Leonard could definitely say it wasn’t an experience worth repeating.

Jim suddenly wavered on his knees, catching himself in the nick of time before he slumped forward onto Leonard. The way the man was rapidly blinking his eyes meant only one thing. Leonard forced him flat onto his back on the floor.

“You’re gonna pass out,” he diagnosed. “Be still, Jim. I gotcha ya.”

“Not comforting, Bones,” Jim mumbled back, but he closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows like he was thinking hard. When the drawn muscles of Jim’s face abruptly eased, Leonard knew Jim was out. He lifted one limp wrist and counted the pulse. The heartbeat was slow but not bad, the doctor told himself, trying to find comfort where he could.

It didn’t occur to Leonard until he bent over to inspect Kirk’s pupils that he wasn’t alone. Startled, Leonard froze and turned his head to the side.

Spock stared back at him from the same eye level, not two feet away, expression even.

Leonard opened his mouth, closed it. Eventually something possessed him to say, “He’s not dead.”

Spock stared at Leonard for a moment longer, then lifted his hand. Leonard fully expected the Vulcan to shove him away from Jim. But those long, elegant fingers did the unthinkable by arranging themselves on the side of Leonard’s face.

Leonard sucked in a shocked breath, instantly thinking, This can’t happen!

Then he saw Jim from the corner of his eye, whose color was making a gradual return to his face.

And Leonard told himself, Yes it can.

A thought, a color, something not of or from him, entered his mind. With it came a single word in a singular, rough voice. The word was Mate.

Seconds passed.

Finally Leonard thought back at Spock, Mate, in what he hoped was a tone of agreement. Going a step further, he added, First, help Jim.

Spock took his hand away from Leonard’s face and sat back on his haunches. The Vulcan looked calm and accepting—not that that meant a damn thing, the doctor knew too well—and Leonard gambled on there being enough left of Spock for him to do what needed doing.

The gamble paid off. Spock watched Leonard lift and cradle Jim in his arms, and followed them as far as the door. Leonard breathed a sigh of relief once he was on the other side.

He took Jim straight to the gurney in the adjoining room, laid Jim down with care, tucked a sheet over him and, voice shaking, called M’Benga. The assistant CMO was there in seconds which meant the doctor couldn’t have been far away at all. M’Benga’s features were drawn. His face looked even more upset when he saw Jim still and silent on the gurney.

“Take him,” Leonard said tiredly, tricorder gripped loosely in his right hand, “and take care of him. Full blood panel, full everything, and start him on a saline drip. He’ll likely come around in a little while on his own, but I want you to sedate him for at least twenty-four hours. Update Sulu that he needs to stay in charge until Jim is fully recovered.”

M’Benga gave a nod, but stopped to ask as he reached out for the edge of the gurney, “And Commander Spock?”

“Still in the red zone.”

Alarmed, Geoff looked toward the mirror. On the other side, the Vulcan was facing them, silent and seeming as alien to them as ever.

“Doctor McCoy…” M’Benga started to say.

“Looks can be deceiving. His vitals are spiking again. This isn’t over yet, although considering the fluctuation of hormones he has experienced over the course of the pon farr, I estimate we’ll have him back to his regular self in another three or four hours. ” Leonard drew a quiet breath. “Until then, Spock’ll get what he needs.”

M’Benga said nothing. Leonard was grateful for that.

At the exit, the other doctor paused to look back at Leonard over the floating gurney. “What should I tell the Captain when he wakes up?”

Leonard snorted softly. “Don’t you worry about that, Geoff. I’ll be there when he does, so leave the explaining up to me.”

“I’m holding you to that promise, Leonard.”

Leonard did not reply, just raised a hand in goodbye. As he had monitored Jim, now it was M’Benga’s turn to monitor him. Not that Leonard planned to be unable to help himself should the need arise…

That was what the full hypospray in his pocket was for.

~~~

Spock let him re-enter the room without touching him. He let Leonard cross to the bed without touching him. He even let Leonard awkwardly shed his boots and socks without touching him.

Then Leonard stared up at the eerily patient Vulcan and challenged, “Well, what are you waiting for, you overgrown elf? An engraved invitation?”

Vulcan-bating during pon farr, apparently, was akin to foreplay.

Spock pressed the human into the mattress, licked his way into Leonard’s mouth, and the sex began in earnest.

~~~

Three hours and twenty-two minutes later Leonard, situated on his stomach, snapped awake from a light doze as his bed companion bolted upright in bed. The Vulcan’s chest heaved once. Then the Vulcan twisted around at the waist to look down at Leonard.

Leonard’s stomach knotted, oddly, with joy. It was Spock in the eyes, in the face, in the—

—incomprehension. Which, as Leonard watched, morphed into horror.

“Doctor McCoy,” Spock named him, sounding positively shocked.

“Aw hell,” Leonard muttered. He rolled to the edge of the bed to fish for his pants on the floor, then sat up with a hypospray in hand. “Sorry about this, Spock,” he apologized with sincerity before striking the Vulcan in one quivering, exposed thigh with the tip of the automatic syringe.

The sedation took effect almost immediately, probably due to the exhausted state of the Vulcan’s body, Leonard thought. Then he sighed and closed his eyes, knowing he would have to see that horror in Spock’s gaze again soon.

[ Continue ]

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About KLMeri

Owner of SpaceTrio. Co-mod of McSpirk Holiday Fest. Fanfiction author of stories about Kirk, Spock, and McCoy.

6 Comments

  1. hora_tio

    Well done my friend. I love how you made this story make total sense. But of course, it is Jim, Bones, and Spock. Who else would it be. PS What did you mean about comic 21….please not Jim and Carol with a little David in the future. Say it isn’t so

    • writer_klmeri

      #21 is the ‘After Darkness’ comic I told you about. It’s the reboot of Amok Time. Thank you for putting up with my complaining about this story earlier. I certainly didn’t expect it to be 12k+ in length, but like you said, finishing it in one go was a good approach. And thank you for your faith that I could deliver a story which does justice to the Triumvirate. I’m not always sure I get it right, myself, but I try!

  2. dark_kaomi

    This was excellent. I love how you focused on Spock’s presentation during this experience. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pon farr fic do that. It was refreshing. I also liked McCoy and Jim’s characterizations. They were very in character and I loved it. The only thing that kind of bothered me was how it felt like McCoy’s interest in Spock seemed to come from no where. Not so much when he couldn’t stop thinking about their experience but when he was telling Spock watching them together was getting to him and he wasn’t just focusing on Jim. There didn’t seem to be any indication of that interest before that conversation so it seemed awkward. Other than that I really enjoyed this story.

    • writer_klmeri

      Very, very good point, my friend! I suppose I spent so much time focusing on what happened during the pon farr, I didn’t build up to McCoy’s mindset concerning Spock going into it. Jim, I covered. That was an oversight on my part, especially since it is told from Leonard’s POV. I’m glad, though, there were still enjoyable parts. :) Thank you for reading the story!

      • dark_kaomi

        Oh there were more than enjoyable parts! I enjoyed the whole thing! I was mostly pointing that out because it stuck out to me. I love seeing how you’ve grown as a writer. Have you ever gone back to read your old stories?

        • writer_klmeri

          Yeah, I have! Big difference. I didn’t have the technique/style quite right BUT in exchange now I seem to have lost some vocabulary. I think what really got me to the next level was when you beta-ed my Reaper!McCoy vs Khan story. Since then I have written a lot stories more with thoughts married to action. They say practice makes perfect, and while I don’t believe perfection is achievable, I am a great example of how someone can improve ten-fold by dedicated practice.

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