reversedpolarity | [future!verse]

"Montgomery, stop," Liz said sharply. It wasn't that she didn't agree, but rather that she hated for them to fight. She didn't want to see that. She didn't want to have to hear this or see this. She didn't need her father to come up with more reasons to be a miserable soul. She didn't want any of this.

"No, Beth, let him say what he needs to say," Gerald replied calmly. He raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. "Her contributions to that sector of science is over. You've returned from that mission and she needs to find a cause, preferably one that will improve those of us on Earth. You too, will benefit from something that our neurologists work on, not just your little friends up in space."

Liz look notably disturbed now. Helen was looking down at a few pages of wedding colors, effectively blocking out what was happening around them.

He rose from his seat, leaning forward to rest his hands on the table. "I worked for five years under the best captain in Starfleet," he said quietly. "D'you know what makes a good captain? The ability tae lead, aye, an' make decisions, but that's just part of it. A good captain knows his crew's abilities, an' he knows their limits, an' he knows what they're good at doin' an' what they enjoy doin', an' a good captain isn't goin' tae try an' force a... a doctor tae be an engineer. A good captain'll push his crew tae be their best, aye, an' he'll try tae push them beyond their limits, but if they fail, he forgives them. An' when his crew does a good job, he tells them they've done a good job, an' he lets them know he's proud o' them for bein' the best damn crew they can be. An' it seems tae me that a father ought tae be the same way. So what, if Liz isn't doin' what you want her tae do? Better tae excel in a field you're good at, in a field you enjoy, than tae labor away miserable for the rest o' your life doin' somethin' you hate because someone else pushed you intae it."

He pushed himself away from the table then, leveling a hard look at Gerald before glancing at Liz. "I'll be outside." He turned then, preparing to head for the door.

Gerald looked completely unfazed. Not a word Monty said touched him in the least. He wasn't going to compare his parenting to a captain. Gerald went to open his mouth, but Monty was turning away and though that wasn't going to stop him, Elizabeth standing abruptly and slamming down the magazine she'd had certainly did.

"Montgomery, turn around," she commanded. Helen was still looking almost like she was vanishing inside herself. "Dad, I get it. I'm not good enough. I have never done enough, okay? You don't have to tell me every single time I am making something of my life that it isn't enough. Can we just let your disappointment remain somewhere lingering in the background? We all know its there!" Liz raise her voice as she spoke and then turned her attention to Monty, "I don't need you fighting my battles. We have had five years together where you knew nothing about what it was like to actually live with my father and I am not about to let you disrespect him in front of me when you don't know." She cut the argument short. It sounded unfinished and she didn't care. Instead she turned and left, heading back to her childhood bedroom, now the spare room and sat on the floor, leaning back against the bed.

Helen remained unmoving. Gerald looked mildly surprised at his daughter's outburst. He glanced to Monty and then back at Helen. Helen gave him a look and Gerald retreated to his den. Helen looked apologetically to Monty, hoping that there was something that could be saved.

He stopped, when Liz told him to, and turned around, refusing to look apologetic for standing up to Gerald. He shrank back a bit, though, when Liz snapped at him, although he didn't say anything. Not yet. What was there to say? He wasn't going to apologize for arguing with Gerald, not when the man was such an ass. At least, he told himself he wasn't going to apologize, but when Liz left abruptly he wilted a bit, dropping his eyes down to the table. He stayed there, until Gerald was gone, and for a moment, he considered turning and going outside, like he'd said he was going to do. Going to talk to Liz right now probably wouldn't be a good idea, not before she had time to cool down.

With a sigh, he glanced over at Helen, and said quietly, "I'm sorry. I... Sorry." She wasn't the only person he needed to apologize to. "I should. I. Right. Well." He turned again, not really sure what he was planning on doing.

Helen just watched him carefully. She knew her son-in-laws intentions had always been good. Helen was glad he would stand up for Elizabeth because so often Helen didn't do enough, or anything at all. She felt guilty for that. She knew she shouldn't have let Gerald get so awful with Elizabeth or with Montgomery, but there wasn't much she could do about their personalities.

"Don't be sorry," she said gently, "I never did stick up for her like I should. They have a complicated relationship, Montgomery. I don't know how it works or why they continually disappoint each other. There's something that neither of them have ever explained to me about it, but I suspect if you ask her, she will do what she can to explain. As for my husband, his actions are inexcusable. You shouldn't be apologizing."

He sighed, and sank back down into his chair, shaking his head. "No, Liz is right. It's... it's not my place tae... but..." He wasn't quite looking at Helen, not quite meeting her eyes. "But... I love her. An'... knowin' how much it hurts her, when he says things like that... Is it that hard tae just say 'I'm proud o' you'? I mean, is it that hard for him tae let her know that doin' what she wants tae do is alright?"

He finally looked up, meeting Helen's eyes. "I just want Liz tae be happy," he said softly, his brow creased as he spoke. "I want tae know that she's happy doin' what she wants tae do, without havin' tae worry about whether or not she's disappointin' Gerald. We want tae have kids, Helen, but even that's a waste o' time, as far as he's concerned." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, looking back down at the table. "I just. I don't know what tae do."

Helen smiled softly, a warmth emanating from her that was fairly normal for her. She listened to him, noting the things he said that deserved answer. She understood his frustration. She knew why he was defending Elizabeth and she was supportive of it, even if Liz didn't understand.

"Montgomery, have you ever noticed that Elizabeth goes on making decisions for herself, presenting them to us, taking the abuse from Gerald and then goes on and keeps doing what she's doing?" Helen knew the question sounded complicated, "Elizabeth knows what she's doing. She knows what she wants out of life and even when Gerald looks at her and says he disappointed, she only lets herself hurt for a moment before continuing on the path that she's chosen. He may not being saying he's proud, but he's pushing her and regardless of what he wants, she keeps moving forward."

She sighed heavily after that. She didn't like to see Monty this upset either. "And if you let Gerald's opinion of how Elizabeth's life should go ruin your path of where you want your life together to go, you are giving into him. Liz has never once given into Gerald. It may look like she's hurting and that she's only ever gone to school and become a doctor because he told her to, but he always held the bar too high and she decided where to go from there. Don't give him the satisfaction."

"I don't like seein' her hurt," he replied, his voice low; he was still staring down at the table. "Even if it's just for a little bit. She deserves better than that." He wasn't really sure how else to articulate how he felt about it. Helen was right; Liz didn't let Gerald's comments stop her from doing what she wanted to do, but knowing that those comments hurt her... "I just want her tae be happy," he repeated, his shoulders slumping as he looked back up at Helen. "I... The one thing she wants more than anything else, Helen, she just wants him tae be proud o' her. An' that's the one thing I can't give her. She wants tae hear him say it, an' I can't... I can't make that happen."

He was quiet for a moment, tracing a pattern on the tabletop with his forefinger. "An'... I'm not goin' tae let him stop us doin' what we want tae do, but... The last thing I've ever wanted is tae disappoint Liz, an'... an' I don't want tae disappoint you, either, but knowin' that Gerald thinks Liz is settlin' for somethin' less because she married me..."

"She's going to hurt sometimes and there is nothing you can do about it," she argued, "she deserves what she works for and Gerald doesn't recognize that. He's not the deciding factor in her life and though she hurts a little bit, she won't keep hurting about that. You two will have the wedding and she will go back to school and have children and suddenly his opinion won't be so important anymore."

However, when he started to question himself, Helen shakes her head, "Don't you start that. Gerald hates the institution of marriage because he settled down with me when he always thought he'd be able to avoid marriage. Don't get me wrong, he didn't marry me because he settled, but because he realized he couldn't manage without me and he loved me. He hates that he lost that battle. I should resent him for it, but he beats himself up for it too often for me to mean it," she smile softly. "Do not let Gerald's foul opinions effect your marriage. You are wonderful and the absolute best thing to happen to Elizabeth since she discovered her calling as a psychiatrist."

This time, Helen's words brought a small smile to his face; even if he was still upset from the fight and trying to sort out why he couldn't just keep his mouth shut when Gerald was around. "Helen," he said, looking up. "Thank you." He stood up then, and paused. "I should probably go an' apologize tae Liz. Thanks. For... for everything." He hesitated a moment, then crossed over to where Helen was seated to give her a brief, slightly awkward hug, before excusing himself so he could go find Liz.

He just hoped that she wasn't too upset with him, or that she'd at least forgive him quickly. From now on... from now on, it'd probably be best if he just shut Gerald out, no matter how difficult it was to do so. He had no desire to repeat today's events in the future.

"You're welcome," she replied, hugging him, "Oh, and Montgomery, Elizabeth doesn't want you to hurt either. Keep that in mind."

Liz was still sitting on the floor of the spare room, counting the books on the shelf. She kept losing count and it wasn't making it easy on her to keep up. She was too shook up to actually keep counting and mean to get anywhere, but she was just fine with staring at the shelf to keep her mind occupied. She knew when Monty was coming, though and she straightened herself up a little bit even though she was still sitting on the floor.

He let himself in, standing awkwardly in the doorway for a moment. "Hey." He wasn't really sure where to begin, so rather than try launching into an apology right away, he just went over to sit down beside Liz on the floor, close enough that he could get an arm around her, although he didn't just yet. If she was still upset with him, he'd let her have a bit of a distance. "Liz, I..." he started, before taking a deep breath and letting it out in a long, drawn-out sigh. "Liz, I'm sorry. I... I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

She doesn't reply at first. In fact, she isn't sure how she wants to respond. Finally she gives in and looks over at him, her face implying no anger, but her expression was stiff. "He's my father... I love him and I know that he makes me upset and every time he says something about how I'm not doing enough, I look completely shocked, I still know that I love him because he wants me to be better," she gave him a mental nudge, letting him know she wasn't still upset with Monty, though she wasn't exactly okay just yet.

He stayed silent for a while, though he took that mental nudge as a sign that it was alright to move over a bit and put his arm around her shoulders. He leaned his head against hers, staring at nothing in particular. "I just... I know how much it'd mean tae you, if he'd just tell you that you're doin' the right thing..." he said eventually, feeling as though he ought to explain himself, even if she wasn't upset with him. "You've had all your life tae get used tae brushin' it off an' gettin' on with things, an' me... I'm used tae my mum an' dad, an'... I'm sorry, love."

"I've learned to let him go on his rampages and then move on. Sometimes it really hurts. Sometimes its worse than others. When he tried to tell me that being married was a waste... that hurt because I knew it hurt you, too," she explained, leaning over on him when he wrapped his arm around her. "I'm not waiting for him to approve of me anymore. I'm just wondering if he plans on stay so miserable."

He tightened his arm around her for a brief moment, hugging her, turning his head to kiss the side of hers. "I hate seein' you hurt," he told her, echoing what he'd said to Helen. "An'... I don't know, Liz, I just..." He wasn't entirely sure what he was trying to say. "You deserve tae be happy doin' whatever it is you want tae do, an' maybe that's not good enough for him, but if it's good enough for you that's all that matters." He paused, hugging her again. "An'... you know, I meant it. What I said, about a good father bein' like a good captain. I promise you, Liz, that's the kind o' father I'm goin' tae be."

She leaned even heavier against him. She couldn't stay mad, not when he was talking to her like this, the ever attentive husband. His last comment made her smile and she looked up at him, "Looks like you are going to have to be a captain after all." She was teasing him after all that convincing her that he didn't want to have to be one in Starfleet. "I know what kind of man you and I know you are going to be spectacular as a father. I really can't wait."

He smiled, turning so he could lean in and kiss her. He let it linger for rather a bit longer than was strictly necessary, and when he pulled away he stayed close, shifting so he could get his other arm around her as well. "Should I go tae Command then, an' demand a promotion?" he teased, feeling better for having made her smile. "The pay raise that'd come with it wouldn't be near enough tae make up for havin' tae leave you for five years," he added, a little more seriously.

She kissed him right back and when he suggested demanding a promotion, she laughed. He seemed to drift into something more serious when he continued and she looked up at him with doe eyes, smiling softly. "I don't think I could manage that long without you," she said, just as serious.

"Likewise," he replied, his tone still serious although he was smiling back at her. "An' I wouldn't dare ask you tae come with me, not if we're raisin' a family. A starship's no place for a young kid." Even so, he couldn't deny that every now and then he felt a pang of longing to be back out in space, back in the engine room. When those moods hit him, he tended to go off alone, to find someplace he could stand and stare up at the stars, and imagine, just for a moment, that he was still out there.

She knew he still wanted to be out there. He wasn't good at being still for too long and she didn't like that she knew. Liz wished she could block out that part of him that longed for all that adventure. Liz looked at him, a sense of sadness in her because she knew he missed space. "Earth isn't enough to contain you..." her voice was quiet and it trailed off.

He turned to look at her, his expression turning serious. "Mo grodh," he said, voice quiet, "I knew the consequences when I made the choices I did. I wouldn't have made those choices if I didn't think I could live with them. Besides... there's still trainin' missions, an' even if it's only a week or two o' bein' out in space again... It'll be enough." He smiled again, leaning in a little closer to her. "An' that week or two'll be enough tae remind me that I'm absolutely useless without you."

Elizabeth watched his eyes as he spoke. She knew he meant it. She always knew he meant it. He didn't make decisions lightly and he wanted to make her happy. She was okay with that. She was glad for that, actually, but she wished that she could make him just as honestly happy as he made her. She wasn't sure she could convey that to him in words, so she didn't. Instead, she sent a very soft and subtle message to him, I want to make you happy... keep you happy...

He fell into an easy silence, shifting again to lean against Liz, letting his eyes close as he felt Liz's mind brush his, felt more than heard the soft words she sent to him. Rather than reply right away, he simply focused his attention in her direction, sifting through memories of being on the Enterprise. Most of them were thoughts of the Enterprise and Liz, together, when he'd had the good fortune to have the luxury of belonging to both of them. All of them were warm, pleasant thoughts, and if there was a hint of longing when he thought of the Enterprise, it wasn't so strong that it drowned out the warmth.

"There were times I hoped I could justify tae myself askin' you tae stay with me, aboard her," he said quietly, eventually. "I won't deny that I miss her. But I'd rather sit an' think o' her with you, instead o' sittin' alone in the engine room an' thinkin' o' you." He fell silent again, and this time, the thought he sent her was a wordless little murmur of reassurance, backed by the same warmth that had been present in his thoughts of the Enterprise, but there was no longing in his thoughts now, just a quiet, happy contentment that he had Liz.

Considering that when they first met years ago and he was a bumbling mess, unable to speak in front of her without stuttering or rambling, he had become surprisingly good with words. He knew what to say to her to make her comforted, exactly what she needed to hear to feel safe. This was no exception. His thoughts and feelings and emotions were a beautiful response to her concerns.

"Just because I couldn't stay out there, doesn't mean I won't compromise. I would have if..." she ended that sentence with a shrug instead.

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