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14 February 2009 @ 01:03 am
Round 3: Jack/Liz Drabble Submissions  
Sorry for the delay; non-functioning internet for most of the day prevented me from getting these posted. Below are the prompts. Please submit your drabble as a reply to this entry.

REMEMBER: For this round, your drabble must fit into one comment and one comment only. Submissions that spill over into either another comment or a fic/personal journal will be rejected.

If you are new to the community or are just needing a refresher on how to post/respond to drabbles, please visit this post first. And remember - HAVE FUN!

Jack/Liz - after tonight
Jack/Liz - art museum
Jack/Liz - artifical insemination
Jack/Liz - anger management
Jack/Liz - backseat
Jack/Liz - bacon
Jack/Liz - bad idea
Jack/Liz - be mine
Jack/Liz - bear hug
Jack/Liz - bikini
Jack/Liz - bitten
Jack/Liz - black lace
Jack/Liz - BlackBerry
Jack/Liz - bow tie
Jack/Liz - bra lady
Jack/Liz - breakfast
Jack/Liz - bubblegum tongue
Jack/Liz - buffet
Jack/Liz - burning skin
Jack/Liz - business trip
Jack/Liz - candlelit dinner
Jack/Liz - carriage ride
Jack/Liz - catastrophe
Jack/Liz - celebratory hug
Jack/Liz - cheek kiss
Jack/Liz - chicken pox
Jack/Liz - chocolate curls
Jack/Liz - Chili's
Jack/Liz - Conan
Jack/Liz - Coney Island
Jack/Liz - cool whip
Jack/Liz - cottage cheese
Jack/Liz - cow tipping
Jack/Liz - crazy beautiful
Jack/Liz - crazy stalker
Jack/Liz - dark eyes
Jack/Liz - date
Jack/Liz - Disney World
Jack/Liz - driving lessons
Jack/Liz - drunken marriage
Jack/Liz - endearment terms
Jack/Liz - ethernet cord
Jack/Liz - feeling this
Jack/Liz - ferris wheel
Jack/Liz - first kiss
Jack/Liz - fluent Spanish
Jack/Liz - food pyramid
Jack/Liz - football
Jack/Liz - forehead kiss
Jack/Liz - fortune cookie
Jack/Liz - front page
Jack/Liz - funny business
Jack/Liz - gloves
Jack/Liz - golf round
Jack/Liz - great bra
Jack/Liz - Groundhog Day
Jack/Liz - hallway dancing
Jack/Liz - handcuffs
Jack/Liz - heavy breathing
Jack/Liz - high heels
Jack/Liz - hip tattoo
Jack/Liz - home movies
Jack/Liz - I'm yours
Jack/Liz - inappropriate relationship
Jack/Liz - island lover
Jack/Liz - jello shots
Jack/Liz - Jenna's movie
Jack/Liz - Jessica Simpson
Jack/Liz - Las Vegas
Jack/Liz - last shot
Jack/Liz - Legos
Jack/Liz - Letterman
Jack/Liz - light rain
Jack/Liz - limo ride
Jack/Liz - lingerie
Jack/Liz - long engagement
Jack/Liz - love poem
Jack/Liz - lovestoned
Jack/Liz - matchmaker
Jack/Liz - mean girl
Jack/Liz - meeting Obama
Jack/Liz - Merry Christmas
Jack/Liz - morning after
Jack/Liz - muffins
Jack/Liz - musicals
Jack/Liz - nailin' paylin
Jack/Liz - nap time
Jack/Liz - nicknames
Jack/Liz - office wife
Jack/Liz - only one
Jack/Liz - orange juice
Jack/Liz - overrated
Jack/Liz - pancakes
Jack/Liz - Paris
Jack/Liz - peanut butter
Jack/Liz - peppermint scent
Jack/Liz - photo album
Jack/Liz - photoshoot
Jack/Liz - piano
Jack/Liz - pictionary
Jack/Liz - please don't
Jack/Liz - poker face
Jack/Liz - power outage
Jack/Liz - private jet
Jack/Liz - psychobabble
Jack/Liz - punching Gavin
Jack/Liz - purple
Jack/Liz - reunited
Jack/Liz - road trip
Jack/Liz - Saturday night
Jack/Liz - say yes
Jack/Liz - Scotch
Jack/Liz - sexual frustration
Jack/Liz - sexual harassment
Jack/Liz - sit still
Jack/Liz - Six Sigma
Jack/Liz - sleeping in
Jack/Liz - snowstorm
Jack/Liz - sour candy
Jack/Liz - spiked hair
Jack/Liz - stress relief
Jack/Liz - strip poker
Jack/Liz - sunburn
Jack/Liz - sunglasses
Jack/Liz - sunset
Jack/Liz - Super Bowl
Jack/Liz - swear jar
Jack/Liz - sweater
Jack/Liz - texting
Jack/Liz - the beginning
Jack/Liz - their song
Jack/Liz - tie
Jack/Liz - tissue
Jack/Liz - trading heartbeats
Jack/Liz - turtle
Jack/Liz - Valentine's Day
Jack/Liz - water balloon
Jack/Liz - Weather Channel
Jack/Liz - wedding
Jack/Liz - why not?
Jack/Liz - year twelve
Jack/Liz - yellow socks
Jack/Liz - yoga mat
Jack/Liz - you're special
haters to the left: stamatina_rae on February 15th, 2009 02:05 am (UTC)
14 Reasons This Valentine's Day is Much Better Than Last Year, Jack/Liz, Valentine's Day, PG-13
(Setting is February 14, 2010)

1. She spends it with her best friend.

2. She's in love with her best friend.

3. No one's parents or relatives die. Although, Jack would probably be enjoying himself even more if his mother had.

4. Valentine's Day falls on a weekend again, so they're able to spend the entire day together with no work interruptions or crazy people to deal with. Specifically, they spend nearly the entire day together in Jack's bed making love.

5. Sex is no longer a chore, something she has to do. Now, it’s actually one of her favorite activities. This dramatic turn around was made possible because...

6. Jack is astronomically better in bed than any of her previous boyfriends. Honestly, she's lost track of how many orgasms she's had in the last 24 hours. She could just ask Jack. He definitely knows.

7. Between rounds of sex, they do nothing but watch TV and eat.

8. Her Valentine's Day present is a kitchen full of chocolate. Literally. She wakes up Sunday morning to find dozens of varieties of cakes, donuts, cupcakes, candy, fudge and chocolates from around the world covering nearly all the counter space in Jack's kitchen.

9. She doesn’t have to make some half-ass attempt to cook anything. That’s Jack’s department. What couldn’t the man do, really? Handsome, rich, amazing in bed, and a really good cook. It was like hitting the lottery. And he knows she’d rather stay in than fight the crowds, so he cooks her an amazing dinner. Bacon-wrapped tenderloin, grilled asparagus, twice baked potatoes, lots of wine, and then back to the chocolate. In other words, complete perfection.

10. No toilet mishaps. In fact, her favorite (secret) part about Jack’s amazing apartment is the two bathrooms.

11. After dinner, he lets her watch an episode of Little People, Big World. Even though he doesn’t like the show. And afterwards, she lets him watch some show about WWI on the History Channel. Even though she’s not the least bit interested in it. She just cuddles on the couch with him, thinking about all the little compromises for love and friendship, surprised by how meaningful they really are. As her mind wonders, she honestly can’t think of anything she wouldn’t at least try to compromise about to make this work. To make them work.

12. Some time late that night, when she’s drowsily laying with him in bed, head on his chest, watching a movie; he whispers, “Lemon, it’s after midnight. Valentine’s Day is over.” She looks at up him, brow furrowed. “Now, I can ask you something,” he continues.

She rubs the back of her hand against her tired eyes. “Huh?”

“Well, there’s no way Liz Lemon would get engaged on Valentine’s Day. How unoriginal and clichéd, right? And for fear you’d mistakenly swallow it while rapidly overindulging, I also decided against the equally trite ‘hidden in a pastry’ shtick.”

“Jack? What are you talking about?” And then a bright sparkle catches her eye. She looks down at the hand he’s holding and gasps.

“Liz...will you marry me?”

13. For the first time ever, she makes a huge life decision without freaking out or overanalyzing everything.

14. She falls asleep looking at the beautiful diamond ring, already sure it’s the best decision she’s ever made.

Edited at 2009-02-15 03:27 am (UTC)
Julessoapyrubberduck on February 15th, 2009 03:11 pm (UTC)
Re: 14 Reasons This Valentine's Day is Much Better Than Last Year, Jack/Liz, Valentine's Day, PG-13
omg, that was adorable.
a.: jack/liz; waiting for youregalish on March 1st, 2009 03:08 am (UTC)
Re: 14 Reasons This Valentine's Day is Much Better Than Last Year, Jack/Liz, Valentine's Day, PG-13
Awwwwww! I loved every bit of this, all fourteen reasons. I love the idea that Jack would fill his entire kitchen with chocolate products for Liz's Valentine's present -- he definitely knows the way to her heart -- and that he would not do anything cliche with the proposal because he knows she'd be against all that cliched stuff.

Loved this!
western_skies: Ded Jackwestern_skies on February 16th, 2009 09:50 am (UTC)
Reflections, Jack/Liz, spiked hair, PG
They were running late for the play, and it was actually Jack’s fault for once. He’d been in a fussy sort of mood all evening, fooling with his hair in the mirror long after she’d finished with hers, tilting his head from side to side, and frowning severely at his reflection as if he was taking a phone call from his mother. Liz watched him from bathroom doorway, crunching on cheese-curls (he always kept a stash at his apartment these days), and looking at the ripple of his strong shoulders under his dress shirt and the unhappy way his fingers sifted through his short locks. Agitated, blunt movements to spike it up in the usual way in the front, followed almost immediately by a dissatisfied sigh and impatient sweeps with his palms to smooth it down again into what Liz called a “flattened hayfield” look, which was oddly adorable in its distress. Then came another irritated sigh, a sharp tugging motion with one hand, and the process would start all over again.

After the sixth sharp pulling motion-- the sixth gray hair plucked judiciously from his salt-and-pepper head-- Liz was positive she knew what was going on inside his brain. Some days, fifty felt older than Jack wanted to admit, and looked older than he wanted to admit, too, not that she agreed at all. But it bothered him, and that bothered her, because he was Jack Donaghy, for God’s sake, and there was no reason for him to feel anything other than ridiculously pleased about it.

He gave another annoyed sigh, and shot her a mildly peevish look (if Jack were ever to do anything ‘peevishly’, which apparently, men above the 250K income bracket did not, as he had told her in loud, surly tones the first time she’d suggested as much) as she came up behind him and set the bag of Sabor de Soledad down next to him on the bathroom counter. She smiled back winningly at his reflection over his shoulder, and caught his hand in hers as it made another irritated swipe for a particularly offensive follicle.

“Dude,” she said, laying his palm flat against the marble countertop, lacing her fingers with his, “You are acting like such a girl.” And then, just as the expression of wounded ire made its way onto his face, she pushed forward on her tiptoes, and pressed a gentle kiss to the silver at his temple, allowing herself a moment to soak up the heat from his back, and the simple smell of Jack himself. ‘I love you like you are, you doof, and will not be helping you with any hair-dye escapades you might be considering.’

She had discovered that, with she and Jack, it was more about what they didn’t have to say.

When she pulled away after a long moment, she was met with his clear blue eyes, and his now-smiling reflection (a touch sheepish, perhaps). The worry-lines were gone from his forehead. “I’m almost ready,” he told her, his tone not particularly hurried at all as his hand slid out from underneath hers atop the counter, cupped her fingers in his warm palm, and drew her knuckles up against his lips.

She laughed, even as a fizzle of heat sparked along her skin. “C’mon Jack, don’t feed me that line. You can’t fool ol’ Liz Lemon with that stuff-- you haven’t even started picking out your tie yet. We’ll be here for another hour, at least, until you‘re finished primping.”

“You know, Lemon, it’s that sort of mannish declaration that prompts people like that boy at the Starbucks counter to address you as ‘Sir’,” he told her, frowning in a way that wasn’t entirely convincing.

“Yeah, yeah.” She drew her hand out of his, carded her fingers fondly through his hair until it was standing up on end again, and snagged the bag of cheese curls off the counter. “Just tell me when you’re finally ready, Big Shot.” She popped a bright orange curl into her mouth, and shot him an almost coy (for her) look over her shoulder as she left the bathroom. “I’ll be in the other room, ruining my mannish figure with cheese-curly goodness.”

And if, in the mirror, his eyes followed the extra swing she put in her dress-clad hips on the way out the door, his intrigued expression and the devious, leering tilt of his eyebrows suggesting his age to be nearer to twenty than fifty, well, that was pretty much okay by her.

Edited at 2009-02-16 10:09 pm (UTC)
lz1982lz1982 on February 17th, 2009 02:31 am (UTC)
Re: Reflections, Jack/Liz, spiked hair, PG
That was great! Very cute, and I liked how Liz didn't have to spell everything out for Jack. At the same time, the conversation still had that nice banter-y quality.
Re: Reflections, Jack/Liz, spiked hair, PG - michellek on February 17th, 2009 03:54 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Reflections, Jack/Liz, spiked hair, PG - stamatina_rae on February 18th, 2009 11:26 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Reflections, Jack/Liz, spiked hair, PG - regalish on March 1st, 2009 03:14 am (UTC) (Expand)
lz1982lz1982 on February 20th, 2009 06:02 pm (UTC)
Let's Not Do This, Elizabeth; Jack/Liz, Conan; PG-13
Conan doesn't knock. Probably because her office door is open. But still, it's off-putting how he just comes in. "Hello, Elizabeth."

"Hey, Conan. So. Last day, huh?"

"That's cute, Liz. But I'm moving to LA and I'm married. This," Conan holds up a bouquet of flowers, "is inappropriate. And frankly desperate. And it also makes me feel like a girl. But maybe that's what you wanted."

"Ugh, what are you talking about? I didn't send you flowers."

Conan clears his throat. His expression says, I wish it hadn't come to this. He pulls a card from the bouquet and reads aloud. "'Dear Conan, Good luck in LA; I'll never forget those Yoo-Hoo body shots. Love, Liz.'"

"What? Let me see that." Quickly she gets to her feet and takes the card from him, although really, why would he make that up? The note is typed, so she can't tell who wrote it. "Seriously, these aren't from me."

"Sure, Elizabeth. I know how freely you discuss your sex life. You're so repressed you make me look like Henry Miller. You'd have to be incredibly drunk or about to die in a plane crash to--"

Oh, God.


"What's next, Jack? Are you gonna call my grandparents to say I watched them having sex?"

Jack looks intrigued. "I didn't realize they were still living."

"I don't even remember saying that. Jeez. But come on, what's the deal? I thought we were friends."

"We are friends, Lemon. Every time I've come by your office recently, you guiltily closed your laptop as soon as I came in. The last time, I waited outside before entering and heard a distinct, high-pitched cackle. Admit it, you've been doing nothing but watching Late Night clips for weeks."

"I admit to nothing. So, you thought..."

"That if things ended as awkwardly as possible with Conan, it would make his departure less painful, and you'd stop fantasizing that things might have worked out between you."

"You're so weird."

"I would warn you to stay away from Jimmy Fallon, but I suspect your Cougar phase has played itself out."

"Well, thanks," Liz says, all sincerity. "Can't you just admit you liked embarrassing me?"

"In the words of a well-known libertine, I admit to nothing." Jack smiles. For some reason, Liz smiles back. Damn it.

As she's leaving Jack's office, Liz realizes there's another secret she might have confessed on the plane. She's glad she told Jack about Conan instead.
haters to the left: liz-crankedstamatina_rae on February 22nd, 2009 01:16 pm (UTC)
Re: Let's Not Do This, Elizabeth; Jack/Liz, Conan; PG-13
Ha! This was great, loved it! :D
Re: Let's Not Do This, Elizabeth; Jack/Liz, Conan; PG-13 - lz1982 on February 22nd, 2009 10:09 pm (UTC) (Expand)
stephen@charleneforever.com: 30 rock: jack/liz & black tiemichellek on February 22nd, 2009 06:28 am (UTC)
I Knew It (After Not Sleeping On It), Jack/Liz, morning after, PG
Something Liz didn't do much of last night: sleep.

Something Liz did too much of last night: thought about Jack.

Because Jack decided that, before they left work, the best thing to do would be to press Liz against a wall and kiss her before telling her he's in love with her.

And actually, it was the best thing he could've done. It may have taken a lot of overthinking and a few different drafts of a pro/con list, but she knows she's in love with him, too. (Well, the overthinking and the lists didn't really help. But they didn't hurt. And maybe they did help a little because, when the final draft had more cons than pros, she realized she didn't care about any of the cons -- so what if he watches O'Reilly, they both have more than one TV -- and thought all the pros were meaningful -- even the one where she assumed he hates Family Guy, since he said something about Adult Swim being a television wasteland suitable only for those who've had their mental faculties impaired, infirmed, or altered by non-medical marijuana.) In truth, she's been kind of sure about her feelings for Jack for a while, but she was willing to dismiss it as a weird crush that existed only because he's her best friend and one of the few men she's in day-to-day contact with who she's certain has never skipped a shower because he didn't feel like getting up off the couch or because his mother was hogging the bathroom. But now she knows there's no reason to dismiss it, no reason to explain it away, no reason to convince herself not to go for it.

She goes into work earlier than usual, goes up to Jack's floor. He's not in yet and neither is Jonathan, and she decides waiting in his office would just be creepy. She goes down to her floor and, after half an hour or so of sitting in her office alone, she decides to go see if he's in yet. She keeps hitting the lit-up button like an idiot, as if the elevator can sense her impatience.

When the elevator opens, Jack is standing there. He takes a step forward when he sees her, and she tries to speak but nothing comes out. She can't believe this is happening, that she's finally sure about something and she still can't say what she's thinking. He frowns, probably taking her silence as a sign she's rejecting him or hasn't made a decision so, as the elevator starts to close, she jumps forward and smacks one of the doors to halt its progress. Then she quickly gets into the elevator, stands in front of him. Says:


It doesn't intrinsically convey love but he seems to get her meaning, for the disappointment disappears from his expression as leans forward and brushes her hair away from her cheek.

"Good morning," he replies as he cups her face, tilting her chin up.

She licks her lips before they simultaneously close the remaining distance between their mouths. Then she's pressed against a wall again, running her fingers through his hair while she kisses him like she means it. Because she does mean it.

They break apart when the elevator stops at the fifty-second floor. Liz says, "I figured it out. How I feel. About you, I mean."

"And I," he says, "figured that out."

She returns his smile.
haters to the left: bringing sexy backstamatina_rae on February 22nd, 2009 01:20 pm (UTC)
Re: I Knew It (After Not Sleeping On It), Jack/Liz, morning after, PG
This was adorable, I really liked it. I loved how Liz takes all the time to make multiple drafts of the pro/con list and then realizes she doesn't care about the cons. That's true love. :D
a.: tina; glamorousregalish on February 24th, 2009 10:57 pm (UTC)
Like Permanent Marker (But Even More Permanent), Jack/Liz, hip tattoo, PG
When Liz wakes up, the first thing she does is close her eyes again to ward off the stabbing pain hitting her right between the eyes. Second on the list is an agonized groan, followed by a slow stretch. She shouldn't have gone out drinking with Jenna lastnight. That was a bad idea.

She sits up to stretch again, but as she does, she feels another stabbing pain just slightly below her abdomen. She looks down, moves her tanktop out of the way, and that's when she sees it.

Right where her hip slopes inward toward her abdomen, there it is - a square piece of gauze stuck to her with medical tape. She momentarily panics, hoping like crazy that she's still in possession of both her kidneys, but... that's nuts. It wasn't like she was lying in a tub of ice or anything.

She also had to quit watching Urban Legends with Jenna, but Jenna's going through this weird Joshua Jackson phase, and... yeah.

Slowly, she peels back the gauze and gasps at what's underneath. There, about the size of a quarter, is a small tattoo -- what looks like a capital letter D with a loop coming off the bottom left side of it.

"Aw, blerg!" Right, like she needed this. Why the hell did she tattoo a D on her anyway? Drew?

She dresses quickly and heads to work, needing the second opinion of her best friend. Well... the best friend that didn't get her drunk and drag her to a tattoo parlor lastnight.


"Lemon, nice of you to join us in the land of the living," Jack greets her on her way into his office.

"There's no time, Jack," she huffs. "Look at what I woke up with this morning." Beckoning him closer, she hooks her thumb into the waistband of her jeans and holds it out slightly, exposing the tattoo.

She thinks Jack draws in his breath a little too quickly, but she's not certain, so she lets it go, just watching him through her eyelashes. An amused smirk crosses his features then. "Well. Lemon. I never thought of you as the type to brand yourself."

"I know. God, it's like I colored on myself with permanent marker or something. Only," she wrinkles her nose, "more permanent." Shaking her head then, she glances down at the tattoo. "I can't even tell what it is. I mean, it looks like a D, but... why is there a tail on it?"

"I don't believe that's a tail, Lemon. I believe it's two letters joined together."

"What? How could you possibly know that?"

"Look..." Jack steps a little too close for comfort, and Liz's eyes fly up to his when his finger touches down against the tattoo.

He takes no notice, eyes focused on his finger as it traces the quarter-sized mark. "You can see a very thin line right here at the edge of the D." Looking up at her, his eyes burn her. "It's a letter D and a letter J."

"What?" She tries to bend as close as she can down to the tattoo. "Well... what the hell could that possibly stand for?" Could be Dawson/Joey, after the grueling Dawson's Creek marathon she had to endure for Jenna's sake (another part of the Joshua Jackson phase). Or maybe, in reverse, it could be Jack Dawson or something. But that didn't add up either. Her Titanic obsession ended like three years ago.

"Blerg," she grumbles again, and settles her jeans back into place, heading for the door. "A D and J. Or a J and D." She shakes her head and turns in the doorway, one hand on the knob. "If I can figure out what it means, I'll let you know."

Jack's smile is enigmatic, like he knows a secret, as he replies, "I'll be looking forward to it, Lemon," as she leaves.

Yeah, she definitely shouldn't have gone out drinking with Jenna.
stephen@charleneforever.com: 30 rock: jack/liz & hotel roommichellek on February 25th, 2009 05:45 am (UTC)
Re: Like Permanent Marker (But Even More Permanent), Jack/Liz, hip tattoo, PG
Oh, Liz, you're oblivious even to your own actions. I love this. :)
haters to the left: I can't believe you did that for mestamatina_rae on March 2nd, 2009 03:27 pm (UTC)
Slow and Steady Wins the Race, Jack/Liz, funny business, PG-13
"Wait. Jack, stop. We shouldn't do this."

Not even pretending to ponder Liz's request, his hand keeps right on cupping her breast under her shirt. "Yes, we most certainly should," he mumbles against her lips.

Her palms press against his chest, pushing him away. "No, it's too soon."

"Lemon, I've been in love with you for what seems like eons. You're in love with me, too. How is this too soon?" Moving closer to her again, he runs his hand up her thigh and under her skirt. “The way you’ve been kissing me the past ten minutes certainly wouldn’t --”

"Jesus, Jack!" She shoves his hand away, bolts off the couch. "I'm not ready to do this. To do you. Okay?"

"This isn't some disguised panicking about your underwear not matching or needing to shave your legs, is it?"

She turns her back to him, clenches her fist. Shit, she hadn't even thought about that. There was no chance in hell she's having sex with him now. Not because of the shaving thing, but because she's pretty sure the cotton panties she has on have at least one hole in them. She turns around, adjusts her glasses. "No, it's not that."

He smirks and rises to his feet.

"Lemon, you are physically attracted to me, right?"

"Oh, God,” she groans. “Am I that bad of a kisser?"

"No, not at all," he chuckles, amused by her often overwhelming insecurities. “So, you're okay with moving beyond friendship? With us becoming intimate?"

She awkwardly nods her head. "Mmm-hmm. Just not right now."

He sits on the arm of the couch. "You're sure? We're not just going to be buddies anymore, Lemon."

The air quotes he puts around the word ‘buddies’ are infuriating. Did he honestly believe she just wanted to remain friends? A confused scowl spreads across her face. "I don't generally make out with my buddies and let them feel me up, Jack!”

His smile flatlines, trying to placate her anger. God help him, even when she resembled an agitated, carnivorous woodland creature he still found her adorable.

She continues in a softer voice. “The physical stuff makes me nervous. I'm uncomfortable just talking about it. You know that."

"Yes, I do.” He half smiles. "Okay, how would you prefer to progress from here?"

"Things are moving really fast. We need to spend time together as a couple. Make sure I don't throw up if you try to be affectionate in public. Can't a girl at least go on a few dates before there’s any funny business?”

"Okay, Lemon. You're right."

"What? Really?"

He laughs at her shock. "You're right. Let's slow things down." He steps closer, gently puts his hand on the small of her back and leads her towards the door. "Let's get dinner tonight. Go on a real date. I’ll pick you up at eight o'clock?"

"Um...yeah." Her inflection denotes persistent surprise that he so readily agreed with her.

"Good," he smiles. She reaches for the handle but he presses his hand against the door. "Wait." He moves his hands to her waist, she flinches and her face tenses. "Liz, I'm not going to force myself on the woman I just professed my immense love for less than 24 hours ago?"

She keeps avoiding his gaze, nervously mumbles back, "Sorry.”

He lifts her chin up, tries to reassure her with his eyes. “Don’t apologize. I just wanted to ask...May I kiss you one more time before you leave?”

She swallows hard. “Okay.”

He slowly closes the gap between them, tilting his head to the side and bringing his lips to hers. Soft at first, the kiss deepens when she parts her lips slightly over his. Eventually parts them fully, allowing him to gently slide his tongue into her mouth. She finds herself reaching up to touch his cheek, quietly moaning from the pleasant sensations. He keeps his hands at his sides, letting her continue the languid kiss as long as she desires.

After she’s forced to come up for air, he whispers, “Goodbye, Lemon,” and opens the door for her. “See you tonight.”
lz1982: Jack/Lizlz1982 on March 6th, 2009 05:54 pm (UTC)
Paternity Test; Jack/Liz, bad idea; PG
She’d always wanted children. There was no way to compromise on that; she didn’t even think of it as something one could compromise on. Of course she would have children. And although she wanted Jack as well, and had been surprised to discover how much, she hadn’t always wanted him, which made him the thing that was easier to give up.

Two months after they’d started dating, she was contacted by an adoption agency, one she’d reached out to several months earlier but hadn’t heard from since. The agent told her over the phone that they might have a child for her, a seven-month-old girl from a Chinese orphanage. It was in the early stages but seemed promising.

She told Jack the next day, in his office, adding, “Is this too weird? I mean, it’s—I don’t want to wait, and we haven’t really—we’ve been dating for two months, right? Of course we’re not having kids. Now. I mean, I’m not saying we’re having kids later, but…yeah, obviously if I want a kid right now, this minute, or in, like, the next year, it’s not gonna be yours. That’s not a horribly insulting thing to say, is it?”

“No,” Jack said. “Your adoption proceedings have hardly been a secret.” In fact, it was he who’d put her in touch with the agency in the first place.

“Right. So. And, you know, later, if we wanted to—oh, God, what am I saying? Yeah, I’m just gonna stop now.”

Jack nodded. He picked up a memo, as if he were going to read it to her, but then put it back down. “Liz.” It still felt weird, then, for him to call her by her first name. “I should have told you this sooner.”

She waited. She was standing in front of his desk, and he was sitting down; it seemed to her that if he were going to tell her something important, he should get up. But he sat there, and he said, “I don’t want children.”

Even so, she didn’t get it. For a half second, she thought, OK, he doesn’t want children; so I’ll just adopt them. And then—

Oh, right. Then nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “I knew you wanted—I should have told you.”

What she thought was, Yeah, you should have. You waited three years before you even asked me out. It’s not like you didn’t have time to think about it.

What she said was, “No, that’s OK. I mean, if you don’t want them…you probably shouldn’t have them, right?” Her voice came out wrong, not at all how she wanted it to sound.

“Hey,” Jack said. Then he did stand up, and he came over, wrapping his arms around her.

“Jack, I just…” She buried her face in his shirt. “I just like you so much.”

“Well, I like you. I love you; didn’t I tell you that? I don’t say that to just anybody.”

“I know.” She pulled back. “God, I’m sorry. I mean, it might not even happen.”

“No, no, no, stop it. Don’t wish for your own happiness to be put on hold for me, for my sake. I hope it does work this time. I have a good feeling about it.”

“Yeah, so do I,” she said. “When I talked to them, I thought…Yeah, I think it might.”

“OK,” he said. He kissed her forehead. “So, that’s great.”

She’d seen a documentary once, about people with terminal illnesses. Several of them talked about a choice you had: to be fixated on your death, or to make the most of the time you had left.

Liz said, “You know, I’m starving. Do you want to get something to eat?”
stephen@charleneforever.com: 30 rock: jack/liz & face touchingmichellek on March 10th, 2009 02:37 am (UTC)
The Sandwich Turtles Can Wait (They Always Do), Jack/Liz, island lover, NC-17
On her next vacation, Liz doesn't go alone. She also doesn't: 1) make her move on Banyani; & 2) leave the room much.

She's okay with this. Truth be told, she didn't like How Stella Got Her Groove Back (for a while, she felt like she'd let Oprah down) and, while she misses spending time in the sun wearing her socks, there's something to be said about the relaxation powers of Jack's mouth on her neck as his hand travels over her stomach. He pulls her closer so her back is pressed against his chest; cups her breast, his palm rubbing against her hardening nipple. Liz turns her head to kiss him, but he leans in and covers her mouth with his own before she can initiate it. She moans softly and while, yeah, she's totally okay with this, she does find something unsettling about the relative quiet in the moments when they're not talking or having sex.

"Want to get a sandwich later?" she asks. "We can get served by a turtle."

"I know about your sandwich turtles," Jack says. "We can go out later."

"I said later."

"Then yes." He shifts down a little on the bed. "Though I believe monkeys are more capable as wait staff."

"Are you trying to impress me by making a Simpsons reference or talking about some freaky rich people restaurant that has monkeys serving martinis?"

"There's a difference between monkey butlers and monkey waiters."

She smiles. She's turning him into a nerd and that is awesome. And he's turning her into the sort of woman who doesn't need him to guide her leg on top of his or feel freaked out by the fact that his erection is pressed against a part of her she doesn't want him to go into. He starts to ease inside the part of her she does want him to go into and she arches toward him, urging him to push inside her more quickly. He groans out her name as his fingers dig into her thigh, then his cock is as deep inside her as it can be. It feels so good, but not as good as when his hips start to rock. There's a languid pace to their movements, to the way he touches her and kisses her, a pace he continues until she asks him to go faster. His fingers move to her sex, gently rubbing either side of her clit.

She clutches his arm. "Oh God."

His hand goes faster as his hips thrust harder, then her fingertips are digging into his skin as she starts to come. He curses, holding her tight against him as her clenching muscles draw his cock deeper. He stays motionless inside her as she comes down from her climax, as he pants heavily against her skin. After her moans calm and his breathing slows, it becomes quiet enough to be unsettling again. But soon he speaks, asking Liz to get on her knees after he pulls out of her. She turns to him, sliding her hands through his hair as she kisses him, before she kneels on one of the pillows.

He positions himself behind her, kisses her neck as he caresses her back. His hands move to her breasts while his mouth travels her skin.

"I guess you're my island lover." She exhales. "Or not. Are you?"

"I'm just your lover. Unless you're still upset by that term in a non-tropical context."

"A little."

"Then I'm your boyfriend who's having sex with you while on vacation."

She leans back, rubbing herself against him a little. "I kind of wanted to have an island lover."

He kisses behind her ear. "If it's what you want, Lemon," he whispers, "then I'm that as well."

One of his hands leaves her body to guide his cock back inside her. She leans forward, hands pressing against the wall, as he wraps an arm around her and starts to move. She groans out his name; thinks that, while she loves the usual trappings of her vacation, she would prefer to have her next one go like this. And not just because it would mean she'd still be with Jack a year from now.

Though that is part of it.

She places her arm over Jack's, slides her fingers between his. Says, "Don't stop," though she knows she doesn't have to.

"I won't," he replies.
lz1982lz1982 on March 31st, 2009 02:43 am (UTC)
Mysteries and Scandals; Jack/Liz, Disney World; PG
Ever since Liz learned that Jack once cradled the frozen head of Walt Disney, she’s been kind of desperate for more details. Honestly, she always thought that cryogenic stuff was science fiction. Liz is glad she’s never been entrusted with something as important as Walt Disney’s frozen head. She probably would have put Mickey ears on it or used it as a paperweight. Liz wonders if the correct pronoun is it or him.

One day Liz asks Jack, “Is it true they keep Walt Disney’s head in a vault under Cinderella Castle?”

Jack scoffs. “Lemon, please. I’m sure it’s a waste of time to tell this to a woman who watches Rachel Maddow, but you can’t believe everything you hear. Mr. Disney’s head is preserved in a cooler disguised as a treasure chest on ‘Pirates of the Caribbean.’”

Liz almost attempts an Elaine Benes-style, “Get out!” She gapes at Jack and says, “I rode on that thing! You mean I was floating past a corpse?"

He shrugs. "It’s nothing you wouldn’t do on a Circle Line tour of the Hudson.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. You’d think that’d be classified information or something.”

“Oh, it is,” Jack says. “Should the Disney people find out I’ve divulged this, they’ll have me…dealt with.”

“Jeez, Jack! Why did you even say anything? Ugh, now I have to be responsible for your not being assassinated?”

“Calm down, Lemon; I won’t be killed, I’ll simply be abducted and forced to work as an accordion player in Epcot’s German pavilion. So if you see two men outside dressed as Chip and Dale, all I ask is that you not let them into the building.”

“Right. OK. And if I tell anyone…”

“Most likely, you’ll end up as a voiceover artist for direct-to-DVD Pocahontas sequels. Which, frankly—”

“Yeah, I could do worse. Wow, I can't believe you told me that. I actually feel kind of important now.”

Jack sighs. “I’ve spent the last few years encouraging you to see yourself as an important person, and now I find that all it takes is the divulging of a Hollywood scandal. I wonder what would happen if I told you Don Geiss was actually British.”

“Whoa, who’s from what now?”

“I was speaking hypothetically.” Jack clears his throat. “Hypothetically,” he says again, louder, like he’s afraid the room might be bugged.

Liz doesn’t know how Geiss could possibly be British, or how that would be scandalous at all, but then again, she’s still not sure if Phoebe was American. It’s probably best not to ask any more questions. “OK then,” she says, and gets up to leave.

“Oh, by the way,” Jack says, “I need you to write in a cameo for the Real Housewives of New Jersey; their show’s about to launch, it’s a terrific chance for cross-promotion—oh, don’t look so annoyed, Lemon. You could always have one of your writers do it, if you’re too—important for that sort of thing.” He flashes that knowing/smug/maybe slightly charming Jack-face.

OK, so he’s kind of manipulating her, but now she gets to manipulate someone else, so it all works out. Liz takes the elevator down to six and tells Pam to start working on a Real Housewives sketch. Then she sends Kenneth to the last video store in midtown to rent a Pocahontas DVD. She’d better start practicing just in case.