Someone You Use - Part 8
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Spoilers: Takes place at the end of Season 4 (Pre-Carol)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine. Everything belongs to Tina (as it should). Title is from a Vonda Shepard song featured on the Ally McBeal soundtrack. Finally, any comments/feedback are welcome!
When TGS gets cancelled, she hears the news from Pete. “So I guess now I’ll have to send out my resume. Let’s hope I find something before I have to teach television production at community college,” he tells her. Liz offers some words of optimism (and jokes that he may get to teach a cool group of misfits like the kids in Community) but she can’t help but feel responsible that everybody is now losing their job because of her. Her friends are out of work. Conan is out of work. Conan’s friends are out of work. So clearly, this is not the time to tell people that she finally found a buyer for her screenplay. Production is scheduled to start in a month. And best of all, the director wants her involvement every step of the way. Normally, she’d feel elated, but she has nobody to celebrate her success with. She always assumed being a failure and lonely was a horrible fate. Now she knows being successful and lonely is worse. Figures.
The movie is filmed mostly on location in Philadelphia and Liz falls in love with the city again. She hasn’t really spent time in the city of her birth since high school, and she finds a certain childish joy in rediscovering and revisiting all of her favorite childhood haunts as an adult. After production of the film wraps, she buys a small condo on Walnut Street and is officially a resident of Pennsylvania again. During the day, she teaches creative writing at Villanova and she’s made friends with other creative types there. And once word begins to spread as to how charming and witty her film is, requests for interviews begin to pour in.
Liz relishes in the frantic pace of the day and distracts herself from the life she’s left behind in New York. But at night, when she’s alone in bed, she thinks of Jack and wonders what could have been. Usually, she consoles herself by believing that they never would have worked out in the long run. They’re both consumed with work. He loves sex and she can barely tolerate it. Their joint love of junk food would probably ensure that they both eat themselves into a diabetic coma and then they’d die. Or he’d leave her for a younger gymnast who would do crazy stuff to him in bed and then she’d die. Alone. Or she would get fed up with his ridiculous Republican political stances and one day she’ll go crazy and stab him and then he’d die. Either way, death would be involved. So….yes, it’s probably best that she and Jack Donaghy are not a thing. Who needs that kind of Shakespearean heartbreak?
After the end of the semester, she spends Christmas with her parents. While she treasures the luxury of living close to them, she knows that every year she visits them without a spouse -- without even a hint of a potential partner -- her parents lose even more hope that they will ever have a grandchild (to be fair, she has begun to lose hope as well).
During the Christmas break, she gets a call from the head of the English department. Apparently the feedback from students regarding her Introduction to Creative Writing class was so positive, that the administration decided to invite her back for another semester.
(“I have never seen so many enthusiastic reviews before! I don’t know what you taught them, Ms. Lemon, but it certainly seems to have left an impression,” he says.
“Well, sir, never underestimate the power to execute a good diarrhea joke,” she deadpans. The line goes silent and until she hears, “I hope you are being facetious.”
“Yes. Yes, that was a joke. Ha ha.” She responds awkwardly.)
She still plans on incorporating scatological humor into her next course the following semester. She will just make a mental note to refrain from letting the faculty know about it. She is the former head writer of TGS, after all.
When the new semester starts up again, she is in the dining hall and smiles when the cafeteria lady hands her a piping hot plate of mac and cheese. She wonders if this qualifies under Jack’s wish for her to be able to hire someone to make mac and cheese for her. He probably didn’t envision said mac and cheese being served on cheap plastic plates in the middle of a loud dinning hall filled with overgrown teenagers. So. probably not. She mentally berates her brain for using any excuse to think of Jack Donagahy and mumbles a low “get it together, self.” Her mental self-flagellation is interrupted when one of her former students rushes up to her.
“Professor Lemon! Professor Lemon!” She smiles politely when she sees Kate Murray happily scurry over to where she is standing. Since her class was a low-level creative writing elective, she had quite a number of students who enrolled because they were required to take a writing course. So, she was saddled with a fair amount of students who didn’t want to be there and didn’t know how to write anything with a hint of creativity behind it. Luckily, bossing around a pack of ADD suffering miscreants who don’t want to do any work is Liz’s only real marketable skill. So, cajoling the students to pay attention to her and to put something decent on the page wasn’t incredibly difficult to accomplish and some of her more creatively inept students even took a liking to her. Kate was one of them. Something about Liz’s teaching style struck a cord in the engineering student and now she seemed to have acquired the kid’s adoration. It was kind of sweet.
“Kate, I told you, I’m not really a professor. Call me Liz.”
“Okay, okay, fine, Liz!” Kate huffs, clearly impatient. “My dad is here visiting me. And I told him so much about you and your class and I’d really like for you to meet him.”
“Oh, Kate, I’d love to…but I got a thing.” Liz forces out a smile and points awkwardly to her plate of food.
“Mac and cheese?” Kate asks, clearly confused and not yet clued into the fact that for Liz Lemon, mac and cheese certainly qualifies as a ‘thing.’ “Please, Liz, you can bring your food. Join us for lunch!” Reluctantly, Liz acquiesces and follows Kate to a table in the corner where a man in a suit is seated. The dark navy suit is well tailored (Jack taught her how to spot suits that are well made and those who look like they came from Men’s Warehouse. This one is definitely the former), but he looks rather out of place in a sea of jeans and sweatpants. His stern focused look while he reads his blackberry screen also makes it quite clear that he is preoccupied and feels like he should be elsewhere.
“Dad!” Kate walks over to her the man and yanks the blackberry out of his hand. To his credit, he blushes in embarrassment at his faux pas and rises to his feet when he realizes his daughter is trying to introduce him to someone. “This is my creative writing teacher from last semester, Liz Lemon. Liz this is my dad George Murray.”
“Ah, you’re the woman responsible for making my daughter think she can make a living from creativity.” George grins, and shakes her hand. “I didn’t know Villanova had such a high reputation for perpetuating grand delusion.” The insult is undercut with a rather charming grin and Liz smiles shyly back in response.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s there in the pamphlet. Highly ranked for Liberal Arts, Engineering and Fart Jokes.” She responds nervously. Ugh, why does she always have to reference butt stuff? What’s wrong with her?
Her cringe-worthy moment is short lived when George lets out a short, boisterous laugh. George is about to say something, but is interrupted by Kate’s ringtone. She answers the phone quickly and squeals loudly when she hears the person on the other hand begin to speak. It causes both George and Liz to cover their ears, and George takes the opportunity to place his hand on her arm and lightly usher Liz a few steps away from the easily excitable teen next to them.
“So may I ask why a woman who used to write for NBC and has a hit movie underway wants to teach our nation’s youth?”
“Ah…that is a long story….”
“But an interesting one no doubt. One I’d love to hear. Over dinner perhaps?” His tone is quick, decisive. The only man who ever propositions her in this way is Jack. The similarity is quite jarring and it renders her mute for a brief moment. “Unless, of course, you’re otherwise spoken for…”
“No, nope. Not…spoken for. Doing all the speaking for myself these days.” Liz chuckles, but the awkwardness does not seem to faze George.
“Wonderful, then. Pick you up at your place at 8 pm on Friday?” Sensing her reluctance, George adds, “Liz, you have nothing to be worried about. You’ve met my offspring and it’s probably safe to assume I’m not a serial killer of any sort.“
“Good point,” she concedes with a small smile. “Sure. Friday night works.” They both smile at each other and Liz turns down Kate’s repeated attempts to get Liz to stay for lunch. She doesn’t want a guy she barely knows watching her shovel down large amounts of mac and cheese. There’s only one man she’s comfortable doing that with and he’s no longer an option. But she’s going out with his clone (or, you know, someone who is a lot like him). That’s something.
---
He acts like a perfect gentleman on their date. Picks her up on time, opens doors for her and doesn’t say anything homophobic or racist. This alone makes him a better candidate than Liz’s previous suitors but she can’t help feel a little…bored. They go through the typical first date topics. Jobs (he’s a mergers & acquisitions attorney) and why they’re still single (he travels a lot and doesn’t have time for a personal life; Liz makes up some excuse that sounds like she is single for normal reasons. Doesn’t mention the fact that she’s never allowed herself to be in a real relationship and the most significant one she’s had was with her former boss and the feelings were not reciprocated. After all, this is 5th, probably 6th date stuff). Things get a tad more interesting when they talk touch on their past. George mentions that his marriage unraveled because he got married much too young.
“What’s too young?” She asks.
“23.” Liz tries not to choke on her wine.
“Wow. That is young. I was still a virgin at 23!” George stares at her blankly and then laughs, believing she just told a joke. She doesn’t attempt to correct his assumption, figuring that perhaps she should try to preserve some mystery and allure. For the moment, George is under the impression that she is a successful, captivating writer. She knows it’s only a matter of time before he uncovers everything off-putting about her and doesn’t see the point in speeding up that inevitable process.
After the date, she invites him in. They engage is some innocent making out, which is neither disgusting nor particularly arousing. Much like George himself…it just is. Six months later, they are still together and she is happy. Ish. She considers this an improvement.
---
One afternoon, she is sitting in a charming bar downtown waiting for George to arrive. They have tickets to see the symphony that evening and they agreed to grab a couple drinks beforehand. She arrives early, and to bide her time she pulls out a novel and begins to read at the bar.
When she finishes her drink, the bartender comes up to her and refills her glass. She looks at the bartender and frowns in confusion, “Oh…I didn’t order another drink….”
“I know, miss. This is compliments of the gentleman sitting over there.” Liz sighs, figuring she’ll have to turn down the advances of some d-bag and make an effort to be extra polite about it. She turns her head to where the man in question is sitting and, upon seeing him, her face breaks into a wide surprised smile. “Jack!!!” It is probably the first genuine smile she has had in months and when she sees the delight on his face, it seems like he is in the same boat. As far as unexpected encounters go, this is probably the best.
Spoilers: Takes place at the end of Season 4 (Pre-Carol)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine. Everything belongs to Tina (as it should). Title is from a Vonda Shepard song featured on the Ally McBeal soundtrack. Finally, any comments/feedback are welcome!
When TGS gets cancelled, she hears the news from Pete. “So I guess now I’ll have to send out my resume. Let’s hope I find something before I have to teach television production at community college,” he tells her. Liz offers some words of optimism (and jokes that he may get to teach a cool group of misfits like the kids in Community) but she can’t help but feel responsible that everybody is now losing their job because of her. Her friends are out of work. Conan is out of work. Conan’s friends are out of work. So clearly, this is not the time to tell people that she finally found a buyer for her screenplay. Production is scheduled to start in a month. And best of all, the director wants her involvement every step of the way. Normally, she’d feel elated, but she has nobody to celebrate her success with. She always assumed being a failure and lonely was a horrible fate. Now she knows being successful and lonely is worse. Figures.
The movie is filmed mostly on location in Philadelphia and Liz falls in love with the city again. She hasn’t really spent time in the city of her birth since high school, and she finds a certain childish joy in rediscovering and revisiting all of her favorite childhood haunts as an adult. After production of the film wraps, she buys a small condo on Walnut Street and is officially a resident of Pennsylvania again. During the day, she teaches creative writing at Villanova and she’s made friends with other creative types there. And once word begins to spread as to how charming and witty her film is, requests for interviews begin to pour in.
Liz relishes in the frantic pace of the day and distracts herself from the life she’s left behind in New York. But at night, when she’s alone in bed, she thinks of Jack and wonders what could have been. Usually, she consoles herself by believing that they never would have worked out in the long run. They’re both consumed with work. He loves sex and she can barely tolerate it. Their joint love of junk food would probably ensure that they both eat themselves into a diabetic coma and then they’d die. Or he’d leave her for a younger gymnast who would do crazy stuff to him in bed and then she’d die. Alone. Or she would get fed up with his ridiculous Republican political stances and one day she’ll go crazy and stab him and then he’d die. Either way, death would be involved. So….yes, it’s probably best that she and Jack Donaghy are not a thing. Who needs that kind of Shakespearean heartbreak?
After the end of the semester, she spends Christmas with her parents. While she treasures the luxury of living close to them, she knows that every year she visits them without a spouse -- without even a hint of a potential partner -- her parents lose even more hope that they will ever have a grandchild (to be fair, she has begun to lose hope as well).
During the Christmas break, she gets a call from the head of the English department. Apparently the feedback from students regarding her Introduction to Creative Writing class was so positive, that the administration decided to invite her back for another semester.
(“I have never seen so many enthusiastic reviews before! I don’t know what you taught them, Ms. Lemon, but it certainly seems to have left an impression,” he says.
“Well, sir, never underestimate the power to execute a good diarrhea joke,” she deadpans. The line goes silent and until she hears, “I hope you are being facetious.”
“Yes. Yes, that was a joke. Ha ha.” She responds awkwardly.)
She still plans on incorporating scatological humor into her next course the following semester. She will just make a mental note to refrain from letting the faculty know about it. She is the former head writer of TGS, after all.
When the new semester starts up again, she is in the dining hall and smiles when the cafeteria lady hands her a piping hot plate of mac and cheese. She wonders if this qualifies under Jack’s wish for her to be able to hire someone to make mac and cheese for her. He probably didn’t envision said mac and cheese being served on cheap plastic plates in the middle of a loud dinning hall filled with overgrown teenagers. So. probably not. She mentally berates her brain for using any excuse to think of Jack Donagahy and mumbles a low “get it together, self.” Her mental self-flagellation is interrupted when one of her former students rushes up to her.
“Professor Lemon! Professor Lemon!” She smiles politely when she sees Kate Murray happily scurry over to where she is standing. Since her class was a low-level creative writing elective, she had quite a number of students who enrolled because they were required to take a writing course. So, she was saddled with a fair amount of students who didn’t want to be there and didn’t know how to write anything with a hint of creativity behind it. Luckily, bossing around a pack of ADD suffering miscreants who don’t want to do any work is Liz’s only real marketable skill. So, cajoling the students to pay attention to her and to put something decent on the page wasn’t incredibly difficult to accomplish and some of her more creatively inept students even took a liking to her. Kate was one of them. Something about Liz’s teaching style struck a cord in the engineering student and now she seemed to have acquired the kid’s adoration. It was kind of sweet.
“Kate, I told you, I’m not really a professor. Call me Liz.”
“Okay, okay, fine, Liz!” Kate huffs, clearly impatient. “My dad is here visiting me. And I told him so much about you and your class and I’d really like for you to meet him.”
“Oh, Kate, I’d love to…but I got a thing.” Liz forces out a smile and points awkwardly to her plate of food.
“Mac and cheese?” Kate asks, clearly confused and not yet clued into the fact that for Liz Lemon, mac and cheese certainly qualifies as a ‘thing.’ “Please, Liz, you can bring your food. Join us for lunch!” Reluctantly, Liz acquiesces and follows Kate to a table in the corner where a man in a suit is seated. The dark navy suit is well tailored (Jack taught her how to spot suits that are well made and those who look like they came from Men’s Warehouse. This one is definitely the former), but he looks rather out of place in a sea of jeans and sweatpants. His stern focused look while he reads his blackberry screen also makes it quite clear that he is preoccupied and feels like he should be elsewhere.
“Dad!” Kate walks over to her the man and yanks the blackberry out of his hand. To his credit, he blushes in embarrassment at his faux pas and rises to his feet when he realizes his daughter is trying to introduce him to someone. “This is my creative writing teacher from last semester, Liz Lemon. Liz this is my dad George Murray.”
“Ah, you’re the woman responsible for making my daughter think she can make a living from creativity.” George grins, and shakes her hand. “I didn’t know Villanova had such a high reputation for perpetuating grand delusion.” The insult is undercut with a rather charming grin and Liz smiles shyly back in response.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s there in the pamphlet. Highly ranked for Liberal Arts, Engineering and Fart Jokes.” She responds nervously. Ugh, why does she always have to reference butt stuff? What’s wrong with her?
Her cringe-worthy moment is short lived when George lets out a short, boisterous laugh. George is about to say something, but is interrupted by Kate’s ringtone. She answers the phone quickly and squeals loudly when she hears the person on the other hand begin to speak. It causes both George and Liz to cover their ears, and George takes the opportunity to place his hand on her arm and lightly usher Liz a few steps away from the easily excitable teen next to them.
“So may I ask why a woman who used to write for NBC and has a hit movie underway wants to teach our nation’s youth?”
“Ah…that is a long story….”
“But an interesting one no doubt. One I’d love to hear. Over dinner perhaps?” His tone is quick, decisive. The only man who ever propositions her in this way is Jack. The similarity is quite jarring and it renders her mute for a brief moment. “Unless, of course, you’re otherwise spoken for…”
“No, nope. Not…spoken for. Doing all the speaking for myself these days.” Liz chuckles, but the awkwardness does not seem to faze George.
“Wonderful, then. Pick you up at your place at 8 pm on Friday?” Sensing her reluctance, George adds, “Liz, you have nothing to be worried about. You’ve met my offspring and it’s probably safe to assume I’m not a serial killer of any sort.“
“Good point,” she concedes with a small smile. “Sure. Friday night works.” They both smile at each other and Liz turns down Kate’s repeated attempts to get Liz to stay for lunch. She doesn’t want a guy she barely knows watching her shovel down large amounts of mac and cheese. There’s only one man she’s comfortable doing that with and he’s no longer an option. But she’s going out with his clone (or, you know, someone who is a lot like him). That’s something.
---
He acts like a perfect gentleman on their date. Picks her up on time, opens doors for her and doesn’t say anything homophobic or racist. This alone makes him a better candidate than Liz’s previous suitors but she can’t help feel a little…bored. They go through the typical first date topics. Jobs (he’s a mergers & acquisitions attorney) and why they’re still single (he travels a lot and doesn’t have time for a personal life; Liz makes up some excuse that sounds like she is single for normal reasons. Doesn’t mention the fact that she’s never allowed herself to be in a real relationship and the most significant one she’s had was with her former boss and the feelings were not reciprocated. After all, this is 5th, probably 6th date stuff). Things get a tad more interesting when they talk touch on their past. George mentions that his marriage unraveled because he got married much too young.
“What’s too young?” She asks.
“23.” Liz tries not to choke on her wine.
“Wow. That is young. I was still a virgin at 23!” George stares at her blankly and then laughs, believing she just told a joke. She doesn’t attempt to correct his assumption, figuring that perhaps she should try to preserve some mystery and allure. For the moment, George is under the impression that she is a successful, captivating writer. She knows it’s only a matter of time before he uncovers everything off-putting about her and doesn’t see the point in speeding up that inevitable process.
After the date, she invites him in. They engage is some innocent making out, which is neither disgusting nor particularly arousing. Much like George himself…it just is. Six months later, they are still together and she is happy. Ish. She considers this an improvement.
---
One afternoon, she is sitting in a charming bar downtown waiting for George to arrive. They have tickets to see the symphony that evening and they agreed to grab a couple drinks beforehand. She arrives early, and to bide her time she pulls out a novel and begins to read at the bar.
When she finishes her drink, the bartender comes up to her and refills her glass. She looks at the bartender and frowns in confusion, “Oh…I didn’t order another drink….”
“I know, miss. This is compliments of the gentleman sitting over there.” Liz sighs, figuring she’ll have to turn down the advances of some d-bag and make an effort to be extra polite about it. She turns her head to where the man in question is sitting and, upon seeing him, her face breaks into a wide surprised smile. “Jack!!!” It is probably the first genuine smile she has had in months and when she sees the delight on his face, it seems like he is in the same boat. As far as unexpected encounters go, this is probably the best.