Chapter Thirty-Six: Tête-à-tête

"We don't have long, I'm afraid. But, if I do not do this now, I fear this weekend will slip away as will my opportunity."

After making this announcement, Charles Fowler moved to occupy one of the identical wing-backed chairs flanking a large, empty fireplace. With a graceful wave of his hand, he bade Sheldon to take the other. Sheldon looked down at the drink still in his hand and considered how helpful the juice had been before in calming him.

Without another thought, he tossed the liquid down his throat. This was immediately followed by three minutes of intense coughing where he was fairly confident he'd lost the use of one lung. That was about the time he realized his glass had not, in fact, contained apple juice. Instead, he was pretty sure it was Scotch … or hydrochloric acid.

"You all right?" Mr. Fowler asked from his chair.

"I thought it was apple juice," he gasped in reply, certain his vocal chords were irretrievably damaged.

"Did Cora give you that?"

"Yes." How could Dooley have ever thought the aunts actually liked him? Clearly, this stunt proved they did not. Why in the world would anyone willingly partake in such a beverage?

Mr. Fowler laughed. "Cora knew I was planning to talk to you. She probably thought you could use a little liquid courage."

Sheldon nodded, unsure of how else to respond. Mr. Fowler waved him over again. Sheldon propelled himself forward, feeling the Scotch pooling heatedly in his belly. Maybe alcohol was a good thing after all, he thought. He'd known this discussion was coming, of course, but had never expected it to be now of all times. Still, as Amy's father had said, if not now, when?

So, mustering every ounce of courage he could get, he took his place across from Mr. Fowler, folded his hands in his lap and waited for the inquisition he knew was about to happen.

"You have quite a reputation in the scientific community and at Caltech, Dr. Cooper."

Sheldon wasn't sure if that was meant to be a compliment or an insult. As much as he might allow Leonard and their friends to think otherwise, he was well aware that actions in his past had left him with a less than stellar reputation. The fallout from their return from the North Pole and the magnetic monopoles incident, for example, was still evident even though it had happened many years ago. Thus, as he wasn't sure how to proceed, he wisely remained silent.

"I have some colleagues who assure me you continue to be a rising star in the world of physics."

Well, that was certainly true. "Yes."

"What do your future goals include?"

"A Nobel Prize."

One gray eyebrow raised at this. "That is quite a lofty aspiration. You think you have what it takes to win?"

"I do not think I will win a Nobel Prize," Sheldon hurried to say. "I will win the Nobel Prize. The only thing up for debate is when this will be. Every step I've made personally and professionally from the age of six has been for the express purpose of winning a Nobel Prize. I will have one. Period."

"I see." Mr. Fowler's amazed expression smoothed into an enigmatic one as he leaned back in his chair and, elbows resting on the arms of the chair, steepled his fingers together under his chin. "Do you have any other future goals you'd like to tell me about?"

Sheldon pondered this. He was surprised they were spending so much time talking about him. He'd been under the impression that the bulk of this conversation would be about Amy and their relationship. Perhaps Amy had been misinformed?

"In addition to winning a Nobel Prize, you mean?" Sheldon asked, happy to see his voice had returned to its normal timber and tone.

"Yes."

"Well, I'll continue my work in physics, of course. In my spare time, however, I suppose I will write books, lecture on my findings, and have a few buildings and bridges named in my honor."

"Is that all?"

Sheldon frowned. "What else is there?"

Mr. Fowler exhaled heavily. "My daughter."

"What about Amy?" Sheldon's mind raced. Was he supposed to have mentioned her? They had been talking about his career, hadn't they? When had this become about Amy? Had he been tricked? Was the alcohol muddling his brain so much that he'd missed something?

"What are your plans pertaining to Amy? Do you have any?"

Yes, Sheldon thought. To get her out of here as soon as possible. But, as he knew that was the last thing he should be admitting out loud, he said, "Amy is my girlfriend. I plan for her to remain my girlfriend."

"Forever?"

Is he hinting at marriage? Sheldon felt a sliver of panic rise within him, but he managed to hold it off by reminding himself that Amy had promised him multiple times on their way here that he would not be made to propose to her. He wasn't ready to contemplate marriage, much less actually do it. He would in order to keep Amy, of course. But she had assured him it wasn't necessary—something for which he was increasingly grateful.

Sheldon stared at the man before him, taking in the scowl on the older gentleman's face as well as the fact that he was leaned forward in his chair—both signs of aggression. Not good. Mr. Fowler clearly wasn't happy with his prior response. Best to deal with this head on. "What is the answer you are wishing for me to say, Mr. Fowler?"

"The truth."

"The truth is Amy is my girlfriend. She is happy with this arrangement as am I."

"And when she isn't happy just being your girlfriend any longer?"

A flare of fear crept into his stomach. He was reminded of how changed Amy was in the last few hours. Did this have something to do with that? "What makes you think she will be unhappy?"

"Women have a tendency to want more from a relationship sooner or later."

"When Amy is unhappy, I expect she will do what she has always done."

"Which is?"

"Tell me."

"And then you will do what?"

"Fix it."

Mr. Fowler sat back again. "Careers are very important, Sheldon. They can help shape who you are and assist in helping you discover who you want to be. They give you purpose, stimulation, and satisfaction in a way few other things in life can."

"I agree."

"However, family and relationships often have a way of hindering one's career objectives. How would you handle that?"

"My family is in Texas. For the most part, they do not interfere with my ambitions. I moved to California specifically to achieve my goals in the field of physics. As I told you before, I've made strategic steps since I was very young to get where I am today."

Mr. Fowler gave a brief chuckle, but Sheldon wasn't sure what had been amusing. "And what happens when my daughter gets in the way of your career goals? Will you move away from her as well?"

The man's point fairly slapped Sheldon in the face. Mr. Fowler evidently wanted to know what was more important: The Nobel Prize or Amy. But Sheldon knew Amy would never make him choose that. If anything, she would help him achieve his purpose. As much as he wanted to say this, however, he knew it wasn't what the man wanted to hear. He wouldn't understand. He would only see it as Sheldon's selfishness when that was the last thing it was.

"You grow beautiful roses, sir," Sheldon finally said. "You've won countless awards at it, in fact. Is that something in which you've always been interested?"

Mr. Fowler's eyebrows went up again, but whether it was because Sheldon had not answered his question or because Sheldon had taken over directing the conversation, he wasn't sure. "No, it was something I fell into after I retired. It was a hobby very close to my real passion in life."

"Which is?"

"Geology. More specifically, I was a biogeochemist for nearly three decades, specializing in soil remediation and dabbling in climate change. I retired about five years ago … from Caltech."

The pause had been purposeful. The look on Mr. Fowler's face said he was waiting for Sheldon to react. Amy's father is a geologist? A geologist? Really? Why had she never said? Moreover, he was a geologist at Caltech of all places? Sheldon was in too much shock to do anything but murmur, "You worked at Caltech?"

Mr. Fowler nodded.

"How is that possible? You live hours away. Amy grew up in Orange County."

"She did indeed. I lived in an apartment near the university during the week and came home every Friday."

"But Amy never said—"

"Haven't you ever wondered why she didn't work at Caltech? A brilliant neuroscientist like her? I made quite a name for myself both in my field and at the university. She didn't want to be known simply as Dr. Charles Fowler's daughter. She wanted to make her own mark on the world. And she did. I couldn't be prouder." He fell silent for a moment, as if allowing it all to sink in. His eyes scanned over Sheldon's face. "Did you really not know?"

"No, I didn't."

"Interesting. Have you heard of me?"

Sheldon shook his head.

"I suppose I'm not surprised. You physicists do like to stay to your own. But you and I met briefly before I retired. Do you not remember?"

Sheldon flashed through his memories, trying to place Amy's father. He could not. "Are you sure? I would have remembered. I have an eidetic memory."

"Yes, I know. You said that to me once, right after you called me a … What was it?" He placed a finger to his chin a contemplative gesture. "Ah, yes. A 'rock monkey.'"

Just then, like a ton of bricks, everything fell into place. Sheldon remembered meeting him now as well as what had been said and the context of the conversation. Oh dear Lord. This was worse than having Amy's parents walk in on them post-coitus. "Gravel monkey."

"What was that?" Mr. Fowler said.

"I called you a gravel monkey. Seven years ago. I remember. It wasn't just you. There were four other men with you and a woman. I had reserved some space to work on my quantum gravity equations and the room I was using happened to be under a particularly loud experiment you all were working on."

"Yes. Apparently we were making too much noise for you to be able to concentrate. You will be happy to know, however, that we won an award for that experiment. Not a Nobel Prize, of course, but still quite significant in its own right."

Sheldon felt his cheeks burn with mortification. There was no good way out of this. There hadn't been from the start. He couldn't believe he hadn't recognized Mr. Fowler from before. No, he mentally corrected. Dr. Fowler. Why hadn't he said anything before? Why hadn't Amy? What else was she keeping from him?

"Dr. Fowler—"

He held up a hand. "No need to apologize. We didn't know each other then. I certainly have no plans to hold that against you. I've never even mentioned it to Amy. But you can imagine my surprise when she first told me you two were dating. Honestly, most people at Caltech believed you to be unwilling and unable to date anyone. The Geology Department has a nickname for you, in fact. They call you the robophysicist. The only person they detest more is Dr. Kripke. But that man's an idiot."

"Dr. Fowler—"

"You can leave off the 'Dr.' Geology is in my past now. I am, at most, a humble gardener and a proud father of three girls for whom I would walk through fire. So, knowing your reputation, personality, and ambitions and watching you interact with Amy, you can see why I might be a little concerned about any future plans you have involving her."

"Sir—"

He held up a hand again. "Allow me to tell you a story, Sheldon. More than forty years ago, I was working at a research facility outside of Washington D.C. when I met a forthright librarian with the kindest eyes I had ever known. She was smart, sweet, and terribly ambitious. We shortly married, but I did not allow that to stand in the way of my career goals. So, when I was offered a prestigious position in California—at Caltech of all places—I had no qualms about taking it. My wife, who was pregnant at this point with Emily, had to give up her own prestigious position at the Library of Congress in order to follow me out here. At the time, I thought it to be no trouble. After all, California is where I needed to be and there were libraries everywhere. Besides, I convinced myself this would be like a homecoming for her. She grew up here.

"I quickly rose up the ranks in my new place of employment. I was even chair of the Geology Department for many years. I was at the top of my field with my choice of partners to work with and grant money to fund me. I had everything I wanted. My wife, meanwhile, cared for our children and made a comfortable abode for me to come home to. While she had been at the top of her game in Washington, she became a mere housewife here, at least while the girls were little. As they got older, she was able to reinvest in her career and is the current Head Librarian at the Orange County Public Library."

"That is very nice, sir."

"But it's not what she wanted. She had specifically moved to Washington to work at the Library of Congress. Do you know how difficult it is to get in there? She had her own plans and dreams, dreams she cast aside to be my wife and the mother of my children."

"I am not sure I know what you are getting at."

Mr. Fowler inhaled swiftly, held the breath and the released it slowly. "Dreams are very important things, Sheldon. The really big ones have a tendency to become a part of your soul. They drive you throughout life. When you cannot achieve those dreams or when you have to turn your back on them, it is like having a bit of your soul die. You're never really the same. The disappointment eats at you and leaves a trail of bitterness. Over time, the bitterness, like an infection, takes over other areas of yourself until you can't even remember not having felt this way. The bitterness controls you, seeps into every decision you make until it is as much who you are as anything else."

"You are talking about Mrs. Fowler," Sheldon said.

"Indeed. I take the blame for that, and I have done my best in the last five years to help turn the tide of it all. The longer I try, the more it becomes obvious to me that it is too late. Evelyn cannot go back. Neither can I. I can't unmake the decisions we made to get here. I can't fix this for her. No matter how much I might want to."

He moved forward in his chair until he was sitting on the very edge, his elbows propped on his knees. "What I can do is make sure my daughter doesn't suffer the same fate. Amy has dreams as well, Sheldon. Her dreams are just as big and just as important as yours are. What will you do if it comes down to a choice between your Nobel Prize and what she wants? What will you do then?"

Sheldon stared down at the hands currently fisted in his lap. He didn't have an answer. He knew what Mr. Fowler wanted him to say, but was it the truth? What would he do in that situation? He wanted Amy—no question about that. Sheldon had always wanted her. Maybe not as much as he did right now, but he'd still wanted her. From that first day in the coffee shop all those years ago. The second after she spoke to him, actually. He had known then that she was special, and he would never again find anyone that much like him. But how to answer this question and to have his answer be the absolute truth? He didn't want to lie. He didn't want to make promises he had no intention of keeping. Not only was that not how he did things, it also would only set up animosity between him and Mr. Fowler down the line.

"Well?" the older man prompted.

It was Sheldon's turn to take in a breath and release it. Just that quickly, he knew what he wanted to say. He had a response. Probably not the correct one by anyone's tally, but it was the only one he could give. "It's not the same situation."

"What?"

"The one you described with your wife. Your ambitions and those of Mrs. Fowler were running at cross purposes. Her dream was chained to her rising through the ranks at one place. Yours were in rising to a specific position. Perhaps you should not have taken the job at Caltech all those years ago or maybe she should have put her foot down and argued for you all to stay where you were. Whatever the case, it is not something that is going to happen between me and Amy."

"What happens when you have to choose between your precious Nobel Prize and my daughter?"

Sheldon shrugged. "I won't have to. Amy is a scientist, too. She understands my ambition in this area. In fact, she has her own which more than matches mine. It is this which made her an attractive companion to me in the first place. When I get a Nobel Prize, I have little doubt she will be in the audience cheering me on."

"And then when you get home and all the time for cheering and adoration is behind you? What will you do then?"

Sheldon remembered Amy's words on the matter, uttered not that long ago, and decided to repeat them. "We'll put my prize on the shelf next to hers."

Mr. Fowler fell back in his chair. Whether this was from surprise or something else, Sheldon wasn't sure.

"Mr. Fowler, I'm not an ordinary man. I never have been. Likewise, Amy isn't an ordinary woman. We don't have what anyone would consider an ordinary relationship. This doesn't mean I do not deem her to be an integral part of my life. She is. Moreover, I'm deemed to be an integral part of hers. There are plenty of things we get wrong in our relationship, but communication is rarely one of them. When Amy is unhappy, she tells me. I don't always understand, but, thankfully, she is patient enough to keep repeating herself until I do. At the same time, when I'm unhappy, I tell her. We work together to reach a mutual agreement. This regularly means a compromise of some sort, but it is a mutual agreement. I do not expect her to curtail her own happiness, dreams or goals in order to satisfy mine. But, at the same time, she is well aware that my happiness, dreams, and goals should not be sacrificed to satisfy hers."

"But what if there is no other way?" He pressed. "What if the choice is Amy or the Prize? What then?"

"It won't be."

"But what if it is? What then? Will you choose the Prize and sacrifice my daughter's happiness or will you choose my daughter and sacrifice your own?"

"Neither. As I have told you, sir, Amy and I don't function that way. Her happiness isn't mutually exclusive of my own. There is no choice here. Her happiness ensures my own and vice versa. I couldn't 'sacrifice' her to win the Nobel any more than she would allow me to sacrifice the Nobel to make her happy. It wouldn't make her happy. Do you not understand? She and I are one. We have been from the beginning. When I win the Nobel, the win will be as much for her to claim as me. The same will be true for me when she achieves her goals.

"You talk about how dreams become interwoven into a soul, but that is not how it is with me. It is Amy who has become interwoven into my soul, just as I have become interwoven into hers. No matter what triumphs we enjoy, disappointments we suffer, or tough choices we have to make, it will be her at my side helping me to celebrate, abide or decide. I will win a Nobel Prize. Amy and I will work together to make sure I get it. Period. Whatever she wants, we will work together to get for her. Period."

"What about marriage? And children? What happens when they come along and derail your plans?"

There was another long pause. Finally, Sheldon said, "I don't know that I'll ever marry or produce offspring."

"What if it's what Amy wants?"

"Then she shall have it."

The quickness of his reply seemed to surprise them both. Like mirror images of each other, they both settled back in their chairs and contemplated this new turn of events. Within a few moments, the door to the study opened and Aunt Cora poked her head in. "Dinner's ready, you two. Are you coming?"

"We'll be right there," Mr. Fowler replied. "Give us a mo'." He stared hard at Sheldon, waiting until the door was closed again and Cora out of the room before he spoke. "Amy is fragile right now and confused. Her mother does not believe you to be a good match for her, and she is working hard to make Amy believe the same thing. I do not usually get in the way between my wife and the children. Evelyn, as you might guess, has had to be everything for them when I could not. Therefore, I usually defer to her on these matters."

"Whether you defer or not, you should understand that I will not stand idly by and allow myself to be separated from Amy. If you want a fight on your hands, you'll get one."

Mr. Fowler snorted and looked aghast. "Did you just threaten me, young man?"

Sheldon nodded. "You can call it a threat. I consider it a promise."

"And how will you stop my wife? She is quite determined."

"Amy loves me and wants to be with me. If you care for your daughter as much as you claim, you'll want us to be together for no other reason than that." Sheldon sat back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as he stared down his beloved's father. "But, I assure you, no matter how determined your wife may be, I am infinitely more so. I worked hard to get Amy, and I am damn sure keeping her."

Charles Fowler stared at him for the longest time. Then, narrowing his eyes, he said, "One last question. You say Amy loves you. Do you love her?"

"More than my own life." He didn't need to think about his response before he made it. He simply told the truth. For once, he didn't care if he sounded like a besotted fool. When it came to Amy, it didn't matter. She was his. He did love her. That was all.

Mr. Fowler got to his feet, walking over to Sheldon. Sheldon wasn't sure what emotion the man was feeling. He looked angry. Would he be struck now or threatened? It didn't matter. Sheldon knew he wasn't going anywhere.

A hand flew towards him. He flinched back out of reflex, only to stop himself a minute later when the hand slanted down towards his own. A handshake. Mr. Fowler was offering a handshake.

Sheldon rose to his feet and took it. Mr. Fowler gripped his hand tightly, a wide grin creasing over his face. "Amy's a handful, Sheldon. In some ways, she is the most stubborn of all my daughters. I could not have parted with her for anyone less worthy." He released Sheldon's hand a stepped back. "I can't help you in dealing with my wife, but neither will I stand in your way."

Sheldon nodded, understanding. No doubt, Mrs. Fowler's temper was near on as bad as Amy's could be. "Fair enough."

There was a knock at the door. This time, Dooley poked his head in. "Evelyn says if you don't come now, she's going to start without you."

"We're on the way," Mr. Fowler assured. "Oh, and, Dooley? Sheldon and I just had our little chat. Do you know he had the temerity to threaten me?"

The shock was easy to read on Dooley's face. "Really?" He looked at Sheldon with awe before turning back to his father-in-law. "Did you do the cleaning-your-gun part?"

"No, I don't do that every time. I like to mix it up. Keep guys guessing. More fun that way," he said with a shrug. "You should know, though. I think Sheldon's going to be my new favorite."

"If he had the guts to threaten you, sir, he should be. Besides, I'm higher up on the totem pole than Bruce. I'm good with that," Dooley responded.

Mr. Fowler growled as they all exited out of the study and headed for the dining room. "Everyone's ahead of Bruce. What a complete clot."

Sheldon followed behind, unsure how exactly he had passed this latest test, but more than happy in the knowledge that he had. Maybe it was the alcohol giving him courage. He was not one for drinking, but he couldn't deny the results. Or perhaps it was his faith in his relationship with Amy. Or maybe it was just that he'd lost the woman he'd loved once and had no plans to ever go through that agony again. Whatever it was, he'd survived and come out the victor. Satisfaction reigned.

Well, it did until a moment later when he rounded the corner and spotted the greatest obstacle standing between him and Amy and a return to life as usual.

Evelyn Fowler.

Yep, he thought, I'm definitely going to need another Scotch.

A/N: Yeah, you weren't expecting an update this fast, were you? Will be updating again, but probably not until next week.