Someone You Use - Part 13
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.
So, I lied - this is the second to last chapter in the series! And, as always, comments/feedback make me happy.
Having a hangover is always horrible. But having one while feeling guilt ridden over cheating on your perfectly nice boyfriend while teaching college kids is worse. So much worse. She’s not even sure she does a good job disguising her current state. Her extension of the usually 15 minute free-writing exercise to a half hour raised a few eyebrows and her one-word answers to almost all questions made it quite clear that Liz was not herself this morning.
“Alright guys, for our unit on conflict I want you to read Flannery O’Connor’s ‘A Good Man is Hard to Find’ and be ready to discuss it. Also, if you skip reading the story and only refer to the Wikipeida summary, I will notice. I have spent years working with lazy jags who cut corners- so don’t mess with me.” She clears her throat, realizing that threat sounded overly harsh. “I mean, I’ll just dock a few participation points. So, yeah. Please read the story.”
She looks down at her notes awkwardly while the students shuffle out of the room and breathes a sigh of relief that she got through class.
“’A Good Man is Hard to Find’? Sounds like a title for your cynical take on men, Lemon.” She jumps when she hears the sound of Jack’s voice and when she looks up he is standing in the doorway of the classroom. She tightens her grip on the side of the podium as he crosses over to her, his eyes burning with anger over her abandonment this morning.
“The story isn’t about sex or love. It’s about, um, redemption.” She replies meekly and continues to stare at the podium in front of her so she can avoid looking at him directly.
“My initial observation still stands.” His hand covers hers before adding, “Why didn’t you stay?”
“I…I don’t know.” She spent the better part of the morning preparing a better response for Jack’s likely confrontation and every excuse, every justification sounded thin to her ears. This one - this empty one- doesn’t sound much better either. “I have a boyfriend. It’s wrong. What we did last night was wrong.”
“Do you love him?” It’s a simple question, but one that Liz has difficulty answering. So she keeps her mouth shut, doesn’t respond to the question and hopes for the subject to drop. “Liz, look at me.”
“No. You’re going to intimidate me with your handsomeness.” Jack smirks in response; glad that she is still at least able to openly admit the attraction she has for him. With other women, this wouldn’t be much of a revelation - most women, women he wouldn’t even consider taking to bed, find him attractive. But with Liz, a woman reluctant to reveal anything pertaining to sex, it seems like an opening of sorts. An opportunity to uncover the reason behind her reluctance and find a way back into her heart.
His finger gently tilts her chin upwards so he can look into her eyes, and he repeats his question, “Do you love him, Liz? Because if you do, if you genuinely love him, if you can picture yourself marrying him, having a child with him, doing everything you ever wanted with him…then I will drop this. I will gracefully drop out.”
He seems earnest in his selfless declaration, which results Liz in allowing herself to let down her defenses. “I’m not sure what I feel. I could love him, I think. After a certain period of time, I’m sure I could learn to love him.”
“That’s the saddest thing I ever heard.”
She glares at him, “It’s practical.”
“It’s foolish. You’d rather be with someone whom you may eventually love over someone you do love. And who loves you back.” He stares directly into her eyes when he says it. Repeats the declaration so it sinks in. “And I do love you back. Immensely.” He expects this particular revelation to cause her to throw her arms around him and echo his feelings - after all, Liz has made it quite clear just how much she loves him. But his sentiment has only seems to irritate her further.
“Well, that’s right on schedule.” She mumbles, averting her eyes from his gaze yet again.
“I beg your pardon?” He asks, upset at her glib reaction.
“Isn’t that typically how you roll? Boink a girl and then profess your undying love?” Offended by her insinuation he takes a step back and crosses his arms.
“We did not have sex last night. In fact, as I recall, I prevented that from happening.”
“You had your face in my junk, that is definitely a kind of sex.”
“Fair enough. We did share a certain intimacy last night. But that is not the singular reason behind my feelings. I’ve felt this way for months, perhaps even years…” She scoffs and Jack looks almost wounded, “is it really that difficult for you to believe that I’m in love with you?”
“I believe you think that now. But what happens when I don’t want to have sex as often as you do? Or you realize that I really hate going to fancy parties and I’m much more comfortable sitting in front of the TV eating junk food? You’ll find someone else, and it’ll happen quickly because you’re you. You get over relationships so fast and I’ll be alone and older and it’ll be even harder for me to find someone than it is now. And when you’re frolicking on the beach with your new wife, I’ll just end up being a stupid factoid on your Wikipedia page.”
“Liz…” He searches her face and feels heartbroken not only over her lack of faith in him, but also over her lack of faith in herself. “Out of all the women in my life you are the constant. You are the one who knows everything good and bad about me. We’ve been friends, enemies, co-workers - everything to each other, and, most importantly, we fit. And if last night was any indication, I believe we will be a great match in the bedroom as well.” He gets close to her again and murmurs lowly, “I can’t pretend to forget how much I enjoyed brining you to orgasm. And you can’t forget how natural it felt for me to do so. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“Sexual chemistry is not enough to sustain a relationship. You should know that more than anybody.”
“But you are the only person I have taken to bed that I am also friends with - that should most certainly sustain a relationship. More importantly, you love my daughter, my daughter loves you, and the only thing that is stopping us from being a family is your refusal to take a risk on me. On us.”
She looks up at him wide-eyed and he knows dropping the idea of a family - something Liz always wanted, something that seemed so incredibly elusive to her- is her Achilles heel. “In my head…that all sounds awesome.” She whispers quietly.
“But…?”
“I don’t trust you.” Her tone is unwavering and Jack seems stunned by her admission.
“I see.” He nods, mentally calculating what he can do about this information. “But you did in the past, correct?”
“Yes, of course. I…used to trust you implicitly.”
“Well, I’ll just have to earn back your trust.” He says simply.
“Jack-“
“No. I’m not giving up the idea of us. Not if we love each other and there’s a strong chance we can make this work. I will demonstrate to you that you can trust me.”
“That could take forever Jack! I mean, seriously…”
“I don’t care.” He barks, and then softer, “I don’t care. I’ll wait.”
He tentatively traces his finger across her lips and she smiles shyly at the gesture. “George is going to be out of town a lot this month. Maybe we could spend more time together during that time…see how things go.”
“And the sex?” He asks hopefully.
“Totally off the table, Jack.”
“I figured as much. Very well, then. You have yourself a deal, Lemon.” His triumphant smile makes her feel like she’s already making the right decision.
---
True to his word, Jack has spends the better part of the month trying to be as dependable and attentive as possible. His relentless pursuit of her succeeded in further eroding whatever barriers she put between the two of them. To be honest, Liz was actually starting to panic at how well they got along and how, during the entire courtship, Jack proved to be a complete gentleman. Aside from brief, chaste kisses on her cheek and lingering hugs, Jack has managed to keep his hands to himself. And, for Liz, when things go well, panic almost always seems to follow. Which is why for the first time ever, Liz was eternally grateful that she came down with a severe case of the flu. It would give her a legitimate excuse to keep away from both Jack and George. Wishing men away from her apartment - so there really was a first for everything.
Currently, she is watching Star Wars while curled up in a fetal position in her bed and is securely ensconced in her slanklet. Her complete adoration for the film has done a decent job of distracting her from the fact that every time she coughs (which is about every 30 seconds), she thinks a vital organ may fly out of her mouth. Halfway into the movie the phone rings and Liz grunts in annoyance. She considers letting it go to voicemail, but seeing Jack’s face pop up on the caller ID compels her to pick up.
“Hey.” She mumbles hoarsely after she lets out a couple severe coughs.
“Good lord. What happened to you?” Jack asks, aghast at her new, gravely tone of voice.
“I think I have the Bubonic Plague. Or the flu. One of the two.” She croaks miserably.
“I’ll take your ability to still crack jokes as indication that you are not at death’s door yet.”
“Nope. Still alive,” she pauses to cough again, this time the force of the coughing really hits her squarely in the middle of her chest and she groans in pain. “… and kickin’.”
“I’m worried about you.” He murmurs lowly into the phone. “When are you seeing a doctor?”
“Ugh, those stupid d-bags at my new insurance company suck so many balls. Basically, I couldn’t find a decent physician who is willing to take new patients until Monday.”
“Monday??” Jack practically shouts into the phone. “Despite his greatest efforts, Obama has not managed to turn this nation into a socialist country yet. Which means, no woman I love should have to wait four days to receive adequate treatment. Are you at home?”
“Well, duh.”
“Stay home. Don’t leave.” Liz is about to ask what he’s up to, but before she has a chance, he hangs up. For a second she stews at how rude and, yes, weird that outburst was. But then fatigue takes over, and before Liz is even aware of what happens, she falls asleep in her slanklet. It is her happy place.
A knock on the door wakes her up about an hour later. She groggily extracts herself from her slanklet, and peers at the peephole in confusion when she sees an attractive, middle-aged brunette calmly waiting at the door. Figuring she doesn’t fit the profile of a serial killer, she opens it.
“Are you Ms. Elizabeth Lemon?” The woman asks.
“Um, yes.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Dr. Silk. I’m Hank Hooper’s primary health care physician. His office sent me here saying it was urgent.” Liz smiles ruefully and lets her in.
“I just have the flu, Dr. Silk…I’m sure you have bigger fish to fry.”
“Mr. Hooper said it would be a personal favor to him if I came.” She smiles, politely and gently places her perfectly manicured hand on Liz’s forehead. “And, by the look and feel of you, it looks like you could use my assistance.”
After the doctor examines her and prescribes some antibiotics, Liz escorts her to the door. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Silk. I really appreciate it.”
“It was my pleasure. I’m sure you’ll feel better shortly. But if you don’t, please don’t hesitate to call.”
Liz gratefully accepts her card, and apprehensively asks, “So…how much do I owe you? I’m sure you don’t take insurance, so I could write you a check now…?”
“Ah, that’s been taken care of. My office will receive a check by the end of the day.”
“Anddd, of course it has.” She nods feeling silly for even thinking that Jack would expect her to pay for his extravagant act of kindness.
When the doctor leaves, she immediately calls Jack. “Did you just send the most respected physician in Philadelphia to see me?”
Without missing a beat, Jack answers, “Yes.”
“Jack…” She is not sure if she wants to reprimand him or thank him for so blatantly inserting himself into her personal affairs.
“Lemon, you sounded awful. I’d drop everything and attend to you myself if I could. This was the next best thing I could come up with.”
Yeah…she’s gonna go with thanking the guy. Because as far as gestures and proving someone’s trustworthiness, this was a pretty bold step forward. “You know, I’m sure if you sent Dr. Spaceman down here, that would have been a whole lot cheaper.” She grins when he hears that she’s made him chuckle.
“You’re welcome. I’ll call you tomorrow morning to see how you’re feeling.”
“Okay.” She is about to hang up, but hears that he’s not quite done yet.
“And, Liz?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.” She sighs and closes her eyes. She hasn’t heard those three words from that many men in her life, but it does sound the best coming from him.
“Yeah. Well, you’d probably change your tune if you got a good look at me now.“ Jack smiles knowingly at her deflection, but it isn’t difficult for him to ascertain what she really means: She loves him too. More than she cares to admit.
-----
Dr. Silk’s meds work wonders and it doesn’t take long for Liz to recuperate. When Jack hears this news, he wants to come down to Philadelphia with Liddy immediately. Liz though, pleads with him to stay put. She’s not sure for how long she’ll be able to keep her clothes on if she stays around him for any length of time. It doesn’t help matters that George is back town as well. Liz may not be the most pragmatic thinker, but even she acknowledges that keeping the two men in separate cities is probably a good plan.
She is washing all the dirty mucus stained sheets from her episode with the flu when Pete calls her.
“Elizabeth Miervaldis Lemon,” she hears Pete exclaim gleefully, “you magnificent bitch!”
“Someone is happy. Did Paula finally agree to send Kyle to boarding school?”
“No. Better!” Liz can’t help but grin, she hasn’t heard Pete this elated since…ever. “I got a job! You are now speaking to the Executive Producer of Supermodel MILFs.”
Liz frowns. The show sounds horrible. “That’s…great?”
“It is great, Liz. It will be my duty to - objectively, of course, - evaluate hundreds of beautiful women ALL day. And, best of all, I got a 20% salary increase and an executive car.”
“And Paula is okay with this?” Liz asks, her brow furrowing in confusion.
“Surprisingly, yes! Paula is apparently so turned on by my newfound confidence and zest for life. Last night, I took her for a spin in the new car - we brought the pop tarts- and she started slowly savoring one while I was driving and…”
“Okay! I think I can figure out how the rest of the night ended.” She interrupts whatever horrific story Pete had in store for her regarding his most recent sexcapade.
“And I have you to thank for it. You’re really a good friend, Liz.”
“I didn’t do anything, Pete.”
“Liz, when I walked into the interview…Jack insisted on accompanying me. He wanted to put in a good word for me in person. He had no reason to do that if it wasn’t for you.”
For a moment, Liz thinks she can actually feel her heart swell. “Jack did that?”
“Yeah.” Pete gives her a moment to appreciate the gravity of what Jack did for him on her behalf before signing off. “Anyway, I better go. Paula is asking for another ‘joyride’.”
“Bye, Pete. Go lovingly defile Pop Tarts with your wife.” When Liz hangs up the phone, she sees the writing on the wall. Jack may not be the safest bet. He may not stay in love with her for the rest of her life or even a fraction of it. But he really loves her now. He once told her that life is about “minimizing regrets.” She’s pretty sure letting Jack Donaghy slip away for the second time would be the biggest regret of her life.
Finally making a decision, she tosses the laundry basket aside and purposefully walks into the living room where George is sipping a beer and watching basketball on TV.
“Hey, George?”
“Yeah, babe?” He asks absentmindedly, obviously not prepared for what Liz is about to say.
She sighs and takes a deep breath, “We have to talk.”
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.
So, I lied - this is the second to last chapter in the series! And, as always, comments/feedback make me happy.
Having a hangover is always horrible. But having one while feeling guilt ridden over cheating on your perfectly nice boyfriend while teaching college kids is worse. So much worse. She’s not even sure she does a good job disguising her current state. Her extension of the usually 15 minute free-writing exercise to a half hour raised a few eyebrows and her one-word answers to almost all questions made it quite clear that Liz was not herself this morning.
“Alright guys, for our unit on conflict I want you to read Flannery O’Connor’s ‘A Good Man is Hard to Find’ and be ready to discuss it. Also, if you skip reading the story and only refer to the Wikipeida summary, I will notice. I have spent years working with lazy jags who cut corners- so don’t mess with me.” She clears her throat, realizing that threat sounded overly harsh. “I mean, I’ll just dock a few participation points. So, yeah. Please read the story.”
She looks down at her notes awkwardly while the students shuffle out of the room and breathes a sigh of relief that she got through class.
“’A Good Man is Hard to Find’? Sounds like a title for your cynical take on men, Lemon.” She jumps when she hears the sound of Jack’s voice and when she looks up he is standing in the doorway of the classroom. She tightens her grip on the side of the podium as he crosses over to her, his eyes burning with anger over her abandonment this morning.
“The story isn’t about sex or love. It’s about, um, redemption.” She replies meekly and continues to stare at the podium in front of her so she can avoid looking at him directly.
“My initial observation still stands.” His hand covers hers before adding, “Why didn’t you stay?”
“I…I don’t know.” She spent the better part of the morning preparing a better response for Jack’s likely confrontation and every excuse, every justification sounded thin to her ears. This one - this empty one- doesn’t sound much better either. “I have a boyfriend. It’s wrong. What we did last night was wrong.”
“Do you love him?” It’s a simple question, but one that Liz has difficulty answering. So she keeps her mouth shut, doesn’t respond to the question and hopes for the subject to drop. “Liz, look at me.”
“No. You’re going to intimidate me with your handsomeness.” Jack smirks in response; glad that she is still at least able to openly admit the attraction she has for him. With other women, this wouldn’t be much of a revelation - most women, women he wouldn’t even consider taking to bed, find him attractive. But with Liz, a woman reluctant to reveal anything pertaining to sex, it seems like an opening of sorts. An opportunity to uncover the reason behind her reluctance and find a way back into her heart.
His finger gently tilts her chin upwards so he can look into her eyes, and he repeats his question, “Do you love him, Liz? Because if you do, if you genuinely love him, if you can picture yourself marrying him, having a child with him, doing everything you ever wanted with him…then I will drop this. I will gracefully drop out.”
He seems earnest in his selfless declaration, which results Liz in allowing herself to let down her defenses. “I’m not sure what I feel. I could love him, I think. After a certain period of time, I’m sure I could learn to love him.”
“That’s the saddest thing I ever heard.”
She glares at him, “It’s practical.”
“It’s foolish. You’d rather be with someone whom you may eventually love over someone you do love. And who loves you back.” He stares directly into her eyes when he says it. Repeats the declaration so it sinks in. “And I do love you back. Immensely.” He expects this particular revelation to cause her to throw her arms around him and echo his feelings - after all, Liz has made it quite clear just how much she loves him. But his sentiment has only seems to irritate her further.
“Well, that’s right on schedule.” She mumbles, averting her eyes from his gaze yet again.
“I beg your pardon?” He asks, upset at her glib reaction.
“Isn’t that typically how you roll? Boink a girl and then profess your undying love?” Offended by her insinuation he takes a step back and crosses his arms.
“We did not have sex last night. In fact, as I recall, I prevented that from happening.”
“You had your face in my junk, that is definitely a kind of sex.”
“Fair enough. We did share a certain intimacy last night. But that is not the singular reason behind my feelings. I’ve felt this way for months, perhaps even years…” She scoffs and Jack looks almost wounded, “is it really that difficult for you to believe that I’m in love with you?”
“I believe you think that now. But what happens when I don’t want to have sex as often as you do? Or you realize that I really hate going to fancy parties and I’m much more comfortable sitting in front of the TV eating junk food? You’ll find someone else, and it’ll happen quickly because you’re you. You get over relationships so fast and I’ll be alone and older and it’ll be even harder for me to find someone than it is now. And when you’re frolicking on the beach with your new wife, I’ll just end up being a stupid factoid on your Wikipedia page.”
“Liz…” He searches her face and feels heartbroken not only over her lack of faith in him, but also over her lack of faith in herself. “Out of all the women in my life you are the constant. You are the one who knows everything good and bad about me. We’ve been friends, enemies, co-workers - everything to each other, and, most importantly, we fit. And if last night was any indication, I believe we will be a great match in the bedroom as well.” He gets close to her again and murmurs lowly, “I can’t pretend to forget how much I enjoyed brining you to orgasm. And you can’t forget how natural it felt for me to do so. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“Sexual chemistry is not enough to sustain a relationship. You should know that more than anybody.”
“But you are the only person I have taken to bed that I am also friends with - that should most certainly sustain a relationship. More importantly, you love my daughter, my daughter loves you, and the only thing that is stopping us from being a family is your refusal to take a risk on me. On us.”
She looks up at him wide-eyed and he knows dropping the idea of a family - something Liz always wanted, something that seemed so incredibly elusive to her- is her Achilles heel. “In my head…that all sounds awesome.” She whispers quietly.
“But…?”
“I don’t trust you.” Her tone is unwavering and Jack seems stunned by her admission.
“I see.” He nods, mentally calculating what he can do about this information. “But you did in the past, correct?”
“Yes, of course. I…used to trust you implicitly.”
“Well, I’ll just have to earn back your trust.” He says simply.
“Jack-“
“No. I’m not giving up the idea of us. Not if we love each other and there’s a strong chance we can make this work. I will demonstrate to you that you can trust me.”
“That could take forever Jack! I mean, seriously…”
“I don’t care.” He barks, and then softer, “I don’t care. I’ll wait.”
He tentatively traces his finger across her lips and she smiles shyly at the gesture. “George is going to be out of town a lot this month. Maybe we could spend more time together during that time…see how things go.”
“And the sex?” He asks hopefully.
“Totally off the table, Jack.”
“I figured as much. Very well, then. You have yourself a deal, Lemon.” His triumphant smile makes her feel like she’s already making the right decision.
---
True to his word, Jack has spends the better part of the month trying to be as dependable and attentive as possible. His relentless pursuit of her succeeded in further eroding whatever barriers she put between the two of them. To be honest, Liz was actually starting to panic at how well they got along and how, during the entire courtship, Jack proved to be a complete gentleman. Aside from brief, chaste kisses on her cheek and lingering hugs, Jack has managed to keep his hands to himself. And, for Liz, when things go well, panic almost always seems to follow. Which is why for the first time ever, Liz was eternally grateful that she came down with a severe case of the flu. It would give her a legitimate excuse to keep away from both Jack and George. Wishing men away from her apartment - so there really was a first for everything.
Currently, she is watching Star Wars while curled up in a fetal position in her bed and is securely ensconced in her slanklet. Her complete adoration for the film has done a decent job of distracting her from the fact that every time she coughs (which is about every 30 seconds), she thinks a vital organ may fly out of her mouth. Halfway into the movie the phone rings and Liz grunts in annoyance. She considers letting it go to voicemail, but seeing Jack’s face pop up on the caller ID compels her to pick up.
“Hey.” She mumbles hoarsely after she lets out a couple severe coughs.
“Good lord. What happened to you?” Jack asks, aghast at her new, gravely tone of voice.
“I think I have the Bubonic Plague. Or the flu. One of the two.” She croaks miserably.
“I’ll take your ability to still crack jokes as indication that you are not at death’s door yet.”
“Nope. Still alive,” she pauses to cough again, this time the force of the coughing really hits her squarely in the middle of her chest and she groans in pain. “… and kickin’.”
“I’m worried about you.” He murmurs lowly into the phone. “When are you seeing a doctor?”
“Ugh, those stupid d-bags at my new insurance company suck so many balls. Basically, I couldn’t find a decent physician who is willing to take new patients until Monday.”
“Monday??” Jack practically shouts into the phone. “Despite his greatest efforts, Obama has not managed to turn this nation into a socialist country yet. Which means, no woman I love should have to wait four days to receive adequate treatment. Are you at home?”
“Well, duh.”
“Stay home. Don’t leave.” Liz is about to ask what he’s up to, but before she has a chance, he hangs up. For a second she stews at how rude and, yes, weird that outburst was. But then fatigue takes over, and before Liz is even aware of what happens, she falls asleep in her slanklet. It is her happy place.
A knock on the door wakes her up about an hour later. She groggily extracts herself from her slanklet, and peers at the peephole in confusion when she sees an attractive, middle-aged brunette calmly waiting at the door. Figuring she doesn’t fit the profile of a serial killer, she opens it.
“Are you Ms. Elizabeth Lemon?” The woman asks.
“Um, yes.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Dr. Silk. I’m Hank Hooper’s primary health care physician. His office sent me here saying it was urgent.” Liz smiles ruefully and lets her in.
“I just have the flu, Dr. Silk…I’m sure you have bigger fish to fry.”
“Mr. Hooper said it would be a personal favor to him if I came.” She smiles, politely and gently places her perfectly manicured hand on Liz’s forehead. “And, by the look and feel of you, it looks like you could use my assistance.”
After the doctor examines her and prescribes some antibiotics, Liz escorts her to the door. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Silk. I really appreciate it.”
“It was my pleasure. I’m sure you’ll feel better shortly. But if you don’t, please don’t hesitate to call.”
Liz gratefully accepts her card, and apprehensively asks, “So…how much do I owe you? I’m sure you don’t take insurance, so I could write you a check now…?”
“Ah, that’s been taken care of. My office will receive a check by the end of the day.”
“Anddd, of course it has.” She nods feeling silly for even thinking that Jack would expect her to pay for his extravagant act of kindness.
When the doctor leaves, she immediately calls Jack. “Did you just send the most respected physician in Philadelphia to see me?”
Without missing a beat, Jack answers, “Yes.”
“Jack…” She is not sure if she wants to reprimand him or thank him for so blatantly inserting himself into her personal affairs.
“Lemon, you sounded awful. I’d drop everything and attend to you myself if I could. This was the next best thing I could come up with.”
Yeah…she’s gonna go with thanking the guy. Because as far as gestures and proving someone’s trustworthiness, this was a pretty bold step forward. “You know, I’m sure if you sent Dr. Spaceman down here, that would have been a whole lot cheaper.” She grins when he hears that she’s made him chuckle.
“You’re welcome. I’ll call you tomorrow morning to see how you’re feeling.”
“Okay.” She is about to hang up, but hears that he’s not quite done yet.
“And, Liz?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.” She sighs and closes her eyes. She hasn’t heard those three words from that many men in her life, but it does sound the best coming from him.
“Yeah. Well, you’d probably change your tune if you got a good look at me now.“ Jack smiles knowingly at her deflection, but it isn’t difficult for him to ascertain what she really means: She loves him too. More than she cares to admit.
-----
Dr. Silk’s meds work wonders and it doesn’t take long for Liz to recuperate. When Jack hears this news, he wants to come down to Philadelphia with Liddy immediately. Liz though, pleads with him to stay put. She’s not sure for how long she’ll be able to keep her clothes on if she stays around him for any length of time. It doesn’t help matters that George is back town as well. Liz may not be the most pragmatic thinker, but even she acknowledges that keeping the two men in separate cities is probably a good plan.
She is washing all the dirty mucus stained sheets from her episode with the flu when Pete calls her.
“Elizabeth Miervaldis Lemon,” she hears Pete exclaim gleefully, “you magnificent bitch!”
“Someone is happy. Did Paula finally agree to send Kyle to boarding school?”
“No. Better!” Liz can’t help but grin, she hasn’t heard Pete this elated since…ever. “I got a job! You are now speaking to the Executive Producer of Supermodel MILFs.”
Liz frowns. The show sounds horrible. “That’s…great?”
“It is great, Liz. It will be my duty to - objectively, of course, - evaluate hundreds of beautiful women ALL day. And, best of all, I got a 20% salary increase and an executive car.”
“And Paula is okay with this?” Liz asks, her brow furrowing in confusion.
“Surprisingly, yes! Paula is apparently so turned on by my newfound confidence and zest for life. Last night, I took her for a spin in the new car - we brought the pop tarts- and she started slowly savoring one while I was driving and…”
“Okay! I think I can figure out how the rest of the night ended.” She interrupts whatever horrific story Pete had in store for her regarding his most recent sexcapade.
“And I have you to thank for it. You’re really a good friend, Liz.”
“I didn’t do anything, Pete.”
“Liz, when I walked into the interview…Jack insisted on accompanying me. He wanted to put in a good word for me in person. He had no reason to do that if it wasn’t for you.”
For a moment, Liz thinks she can actually feel her heart swell. “Jack did that?”
“Yeah.” Pete gives her a moment to appreciate the gravity of what Jack did for him on her behalf before signing off. “Anyway, I better go. Paula is asking for another ‘joyride’.”
“Bye, Pete. Go lovingly defile Pop Tarts with your wife.” When Liz hangs up the phone, she sees the writing on the wall. Jack may not be the safest bet. He may not stay in love with her for the rest of her life or even a fraction of it. But he really loves her now. He once told her that life is about “minimizing regrets.” She’s pretty sure letting Jack Donaghy slip away for the second time would be the biggest regret of her life.
Finally making a decision, she tosses the laundry basket aside and purposefully walks into the living room where George is sipping a beer and watching basketball on TV.
“Hey, George?”
“Yeah, babe?” He asks absentmindedly, obviously not prepared for what Liz is about to say.
She sighs and takes a deep breath, “We have to talk.”