My confession to you is not going to be an easy task. I feel as though my vocabulary has lessened from it's usual caliber, as the sentiments I need to express are...quite unusual. But I intend to give it my best efforts.
Several times during our adventures, I've made sexist comments to you regarding your gender. Admittedly, some of them are ridiculous male bravado and hormone-induced stupidity on my end, but for the most part, that is not my reason.
Many times on a case, I'm aware of the dangers involved and that either of us could be injured. When I tell you to stay behind or let me handle things, it is not a lack of faith in your abilities, but rather...well, fear.
I don't ever want to see you get hurt, Anne. And I know you, you're often very reckless and impulsive. We've had so many close calls and every time there's a chance anyone could get hurt...any time there's a chance it could be you, it...scares me.
Don't get me wrong, I worry about our other genetic equals as well, I'd never want to see Nancy or Henry or Scooter or Suzie injured or in peril either, but when it comes to you, I just...
...there is no easy way to say this, is there?
I love working with you, I love how even though we're a year apart you never call me "little brother", I love how we're always there for each other. How our silly little arguments never amount to anything serious. How even though I'm an intellectual and you're athletic, sibling rivalry is nonexistent to us.
The truth is, Anne, you're the sister I've always felt the closest with. You're more than my sister, you're practically my best friend. And I don't know why I just can't come out and tell you, either. This isn't akin to a confession of romantic love.
Maybe I'm just a classic example of the cold intellectual, the man who can name every single monarch in England's history or list five kinds of bugs by their scientific names but is unable to tell his own sister how much he treasures her. Or a typical bone-headed male who masks his feelings with bone-headed comments.
So instead, I write this letter you'll probably never see. Maybe someday I'll give it to you, or be able to tell you these things to your face. But until then...just try to understand, at least, that there never has been, nor will there ever be any true malice in my comments.
Just love and concern.