A Somewhat Belated Happy Ending (30 Rock, Jack/Liz)
Title: A Somewhat Belated Happy Ending
Prompt: 100_situations #062. Brave
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Spoilers: through "Cooter"
Word Count: 1,288
Rating: PG
Table: Number Two.
Notes: This falls into the 'bit too cute' category, but maybe that's better than 'bit too depressing.'
Summary: It happens after Jack had stopped hoping for it to happen.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue!
*
It happens after Jack had stopped hoping for it to happen. Lemon's no longer under his employ, but they talk a couple of times a week. Six months have passed since she left to embark on a new career writing films -- a silly idea, he'd explained to her when she was initially pondering it; writers are even less respected in the movie industry than they are in the television industry -- and he's still not used to living day-to-day without her. It's even more unsettling than his time in D.C. a couple of years ago. At least then, he was sure he'd eventually find his way back to her; he has no reason to believe she'll return to him.
In any case, they still see each other; still share an occasional meal; still talk. They're still friends, but she doesn't tell him much about the ideas she's working on. He assumes she's suffering from writer's block brought on by her life change and doesn't press it; he's assisted her with her investments, so she can survive comfortably without selling something right away.
But at month six without her in his everyday life, he hears, through a friend with whom Jack has discussed his mentorship of Lemon, that there's an Elizabeth Lemon script being shopped around. His obvious pull at Universal secures him a copy and, as he looks at the cover, he wonders why she wouldn't have told him about this. Perhaps it's a highly commercial piece of idiotic claptrap, and she wasn't in the mood for him to be proud of her for lowering herself for the sake of money. But, as he reads, he finds it rather well-written. Sharp. Funny. The reason she's kept this from him isn't to do with its quality, but its content. It's a romantic comedy set in an office, and he recognizes himself in the boss. (Some of the lines are things Jack is certain he's said, so it's not so difficult to figure out.) He recognizes Lemon in the protagonist. (She doesn't quote herself, but he knows Lemon well enough to figure out things she might say.) He recognizes their fictional counterparts are going to discover they've fallen in love despite their differences, their bickering, their supposed lack of compatibility because, well, he is familiar with the tropes of romantic comedy. (He thought they were going to live out such a scenario until she walked away from 30 Rock without giving him any sign that she loves him as much as he loves her.)
He tries to consider this in a rational way. Ponders the time he spent waiting for her to give some indication that she returned his feelings or even thought such feelings could develop and saw no such sign. Recognizes that he is a rather entertaining and magnetic character and Lemon would be perfectly right in appreciating this truth, just as she would be wise to accept that she's more suited for writing comedies, even those of a romantic sort, than she would be for another genre. (He can't imagine a Liz Lemon-penned action movie.) It doesn't have to mean anything, but he wants it to.
He tells himself to wait. To send her flowers with a note explaining she doesn't have to acknowledge his romantic gesture if there's no kernel of wish fulfillment in the Hollywood ending she wrote. Then nothing is at risk. Then he can continue to pretend, if that is what she wants.
Instead, he goes to her apartment. It's not yet six, but she's wearing pajamas when she answers the door.
"Don't judge me," she says, stepping back to let him in. "I didn't have to be anywhere today, so. Wait, what are you doing here?" She closes the door behind him. "It's not Tuesday, is it? Because, um, if it is I need more time to get ready. Or you could go to the gallery without me."
"I can't go without you, and you certainly shouldn't pass up a bit of culture, as I'm still the only one in your life who will take you to such events--"
"Crap, it is Tuesday?"
He pauses. "No. I don't know why I'm acting as if it were." Perhaps he's nervous. He doesn't generally get nervous in the moments before a romantic declaration, but his relationship with Lemon has often strayed from his expectations. "I am here, Lemon, because I read your screenplay."
"Oh. Wait. How did you get my screenplay?"
"It's not incredibly difficult to find a screenplay in the entertainment industry but, if you must know, I gained possession of it through someone at Universal."
She tenses just enough for him to notice. It could be fear of being found out. It could be fear of being criticized. "Um. Okay."
"It was very entertaining."
"Oh. Thanks--"
"You are aware that you wrote about us falling in love, aren't you?"
There is no condescension or mockery in his tone, because he feels neither of those. Lemon stares at him, mouth slightly open, and he's not sure what her reaction implies. He doesn't even try to figure it out, because he believes Liz's feelings for him may be the one thing he's never read her on correctly. He wants to tell Liz he's been in love with her for over half the time he's known her -- perhaps longer -- but it doesn't quite come out, as if his too-long silence has damned him to continue being mute.
"Um. I don't know. Did I? You weren't supposed--"
He pulls her into a kiss because this is a form of communication he doesn't have to use words for. There is no hesitation in her response, which surprises him almost as much as it pleases him. Even if her answer were 'yes,' he'd assumed there would be a moment of shock, a few seconds of her frozen against his mouth. But her lips are parted, her hands are on his face and she's kissing back like she wants this as much as he does.
He has no idea how he could've failed to pick up on this.
"You should have told me," Jack says after they break apart for air.
"Oh, and you realized you like me a couple of minutes ago?"
"No, I realized I like you four years ago. I realized I'm in love with you over two years ago."
Her eyes widen. "Wait, what?"
"In my defense, I thought I was fairly obvious about it."
"I thought I was kind of obvious, too, after I realized it. Like, pathetically obvious. You didn't think I was pathetically obvious?"
"I did not. I actually thought it was obvious you had no interest in me as a romantic partner." He kisses her cheek. Her mouth. "Did you ever intend on telling me?"
"Not really. And anyway, you're one to talk. You've been silently in love longer than I have. So, suck on that."
"This may be hard to believe, but I thought you'd reject me. I thought I'd ruin our friendship."
"I thought the same thing."
He runs his fingers up and down her back. "Didn't you think I'd figure it out when the movie was released?"
"I assumed the script would get rewritten until it was unrecognizable. I mean, that's what happens, right? Hollywood and rewrites and all that junk--"
"Nonsense, Lemon. Why would they want to change anything about us? We're more than fine as we are."
He slips his hands under her shirt because he can't keep himself from touching her skin now that it's an option. Holding her close, he kisses her like he's not going to stop. In fact, he doesn't intend to stop for a while.
END
Prompt: 100_situations #062. Brave
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Spoilers: through "Cooter"
Word Count: 1,288
Rating: PG
Table: Number Two.
Notes: This falls into the 'bit too cute' category, but maybe that's better than 'bit too depressing.'
Summary: It happens after Jack had stopped hoping for it to happen.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue!
*
It happens after Jack had stopped hoping for it to happen. Lemon's no longer under his employ, but they talk a couple of times a week. Six months have passed since she left to embark on a new career writing films -- a silly idea, he'd explained to her when she was initially pondering it; writers are even less respected in the movie industry than they are in the television industry -- and he's still not used to living day-to-day without her. It's even more unsettling than his time in D.C. a couple of years ago. At least then, he was sure he'd eventually find his way back to her; he has no reason to believe she'll return to him.
In any case, they still see each other; still share an occasional meal; still talk. They're still friends, but she doesn't tell him much about the ideas she's working on. He assumes she's suffering from writer's block brought on by her life change and doesn't press it; he's assisted her with her investments, so she can survive comfortably without selling something right away.
But at month six without her in his everyday life, he hears, through a friend with whom Jack has discussed his mentorship of Lemon, that there's an Elizabeth Lemon script being shopped around. His obvious pull at Universal secures him a copy and, as he looks at the cover, he wonders why she wouldn't have told him about this. Perhaps it's a highly commercial piece of idiotic claptrap, and she wasn't in the mood for him to be proud of her for lowering herself for the sake of money. But, as he reads, he finds it rather well-written. Sharp. Funny. The reason she's kept this from him isn't to do with its quality, but its content. It's a romantic comedy set in an office, and he recognizes himself in the boss. (Some of the lines are things Jack is certain he's said, so it's not so difficult to figure out.) He recognizes Lemon in the protagonist. (She doesn't quote herself, but he knows Lemon well enough to figure out things she might say.) He recognizes their fictional counterparts are going to discover they've fallen in love despite their differences, their bickering, their supposed lack of compatibility because, well, he is familiar with the tropes of romantic comedy. (He thought they were going to live out such a scenario until she walked away from 30 Rock without giving him any sign that she loves him as much as he loves her.)
He tries to consider this in a rational way. Ponders the time he spent waiting for her to give some indication that she returned his feelings or even thought such feelings could develop and saw no such sign. Recognizes that he is a rather entertaining and magnetic character and Lemon would be perfectly right in appreciating this truth, just as she would be wise to accept that she's more suited for writing comedies, even those of a romantic sort, than she would be for another genre. (He can't imagine a Liz Lemon-penned action movie.) It doesn't have to mean anything, but he wants it to.
He tells himself to wait. To send her flowers with a note explaining she doesn't have to acknowledge his romantic gesture if there's no kernel of wish fulfillment in the Hollywood ending she wrote. Then nothing is at risk. Then he can continue to pretend, if that is what she wants.
Instead, he goes to her apartment. It's not yet six, but she's wearing pajamas when she answers the door.
"Don't judge me," she says, stepping back to let him in. "I didn't have to be anywhere today, so. Wait, what are you doing here?" She closes the door behind him. "It's not Tuesday, is it? Because, um, if it is I need more time to get ready. Or you could go to the gallery without me."
"I can't go without you, and you certainly shouldn't pass up a bit of culture, as I'm still the only one in your life who will take you to such events--"
"Crap, it is Tuesday?"
He pauses. "No. I don't know why I'm acting as if it were." Perhaps he's nervous. He doesn't generally get nervous in the moments before a romantic declaration, but his relationship with Lemon has often strayed from his expectations. "I am here, Lemon, because I read your screenplay."
"Oh. Wait. How did you get my screenplay?"
"It's not incredibly difficult to find a screenplay in the entertainment industry but, if you must know, I gained possession of it through someone at Universal."
She tenses just enough for him to notice. It could be fear of being found out. It could be fear of being criticized. "Um. Okay."
"It was very entertaining."
"Oh. Thanks--"
"You are aware that you wrote about us falling in love, aren't you?"
There is no condescension or mockery in his tone, because he feels neither of those. Lemon stares at him, mouth slightly open, and he's not sure what her reaction implies. He doesn't even try to figure it out, because he believes Liz's feelings for him may be the one thing he's never read her on correctly. He wants to tell Liz he's been in love with her for over half the time he's known her -- perhaps longer -- but it doesn't quite come out, as if his too-long silence has damned him to continue being mute.
"Um. I don't know. Did I? You weren't supposed--"
He pulls her into a kiss because this is a form of communication he doesn't have to use words for. There is no hesitation in her response, which surprises him almost as much as it pleases him. Even if her answer were 'yes,' he'd assumed there would be a moment of shock, a few seconds of her frozen against his mouth. But her lips are parted, her hands are on his face and she's kissing back like she wants this as much as he does.
He has no idea how he could've failed to pick up on this.
"You should have told me," Jack says after they break apart for air.
"Oh, and you realized you like me a couple of minutes ago?"
"No, I realized I like you four years ago. I realized I'm in love with you over two years ago."
Her eyes widen. "Wait, what?"
"In my defense, I thought I was fairly obvious about it."
"I thought I was kind of obvious, too, after I realized it. Like, pathetically obvious. You didn't think I was pathetically obvious?"
"I did not. I actually thought it was obvious you had no interest in me as a romantic partner." He kisses her cheek. Her mouth. "Did you ever intend on telling me?"
"Not really. And anyway, you're one to talk. You've been silently in love longer than I have. So, suck on that."
"This may be hard to believe, but I thought you'd reject me. I thought I'd ruin our friendship."
"I thought the same thing."
He runs his fingers up and down her back. "Didn't you think I'd figure it out when the movie was released?"
"I assumed the script would get rewritten until it was unrecognizable. I mean, that's what happens, right? Hollywood and rewrites and all that junk--"
"Nonsense, Lemon. Why would they want to change anything about us? We're more than fine as we are."
He slips his hands under her shirt because he can't keep himself from touching her skin now that it's an option. Holding her close, he kisses her like he's not going to stop. In fact, he doesn't intend to stop for a while.
END