The Most Beautiful Girl I Have Ever Seen with a Kebab (30 Rock, Jack/Liz)
Title: The Most Beautiful Girl I Have Ever Seen with a Kebab
Prompt: 100_situations #095. Beautiful
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Word Count: 1,245
Rating: R
Table: Number Two.
Notes: This is sort of too cute, even for me. I think it's a reaction to being bummed out by this angst!fic I've been working on. In any case, I still like it, adorableness and all. Hopefully you shall, too.
Summary: Eight times Jack called Liz beautiful.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Tina, NBC, etc. Title is from a Flight of The Conchords song. Don't sue.
*
The first time Jack told Liz she was beautiful without adding a qualifier or a back-handed compliment, or changing the subject to a woman (or women) he found more attractive than her, she didn't feel particularly beautiful. It was at an Emmy after-party (he'd insisted on accompanying her for reasons she didn't understand), during which she drowned her sorrows over losing in enough food to make her feel a little sick.
"Are you... serious?" she said. She shifted her weight with the utmost care; one of her heels had broken off earlier in the evening and she'd stuck it back on with chewing gum.
"Aren't I usually?"
"Yeah. I guess." She eyed him suspiciously. He smiled at her.
She assumed he was on drugs.
The second time he told her she was beautiful, she actually thought she looked pretty good. She'd recently gotten back from a date that she had scheduled before the show because Glen didn't have another free night. And she wasn't sure she wanted to introduce a guy she'd known for a couple of weeks to the after-parties.
"Yeah," she said. "I do look awesome."
"Well, Lemon, I like your confidence."
"You should. Because it's awesome."
"Now you're pushing it."
"Yeah, I know."
With the third, he did add something to his declaration of her beauty, but it wasn't something insulting. To her.
"Much too beautiful to spend your life with an accountant named Glen." He shook his head solemnly, as if her boyfriend's name were a code word for some hideous disease. "Trust me, Lemon; there has never been an exceptional man with the name Glen. And don't recycle that nonsense about him being an accountant to the stars. Doing Steven Martin's taxes is not something one should take pride in."
"I like him, Jack. I like him."
"Do you love him?"
She hesitated. "Well. Not now. But I could. I'm going that way. I'm moving toward love. I'm on a car that's driving to love. Or a boat that's sailing to love. Something like that. I'm going to stop hammering the point home, but yeah. Headed there."
"I don't believe you."
The irritating thing? He was right. She wasn't traveling toward love in any vehicle, but she liked Glen more than a lot of the men she'd recently given a shot. And every day she got a little closer to forty, so liking a guy seemed really important when she couldn't find one to love.
Number four, she was mulling over a proposal from Glen. She brought it up to Jack because she kind of wanted him to talk her out of it. Wanted him to remind her she was too good for him, that she was better than herself and didn't need to settle.
"You're beautiful," he said again, and then just stopped.
"Yeah?"
"You're a beautiful woman, and exceptionally intelligent for someone who votes the Democratic line--"
"You didn't qualify my attractiveness, so you have to qualify my intelligence? I think you should--"
"Not to mention--"
"--just stop being you--"
"--the fact that--"
"--and tell me if--"
"--I am in love with you. So you certainly can do better than Glen, if you'd like to."
Liz blanched; if he was looking to get her attention, he certainly succeeded. "You're not in love with me."
"I am."
"You're not."
"I am."
"You're not." She nodded. "I'm gonna go."
The fifth instance was after she'd officially broken up with Glen. She was in Jack's bed because she couldn't imagine not trying to be with a man who was in love with her. (Because she did know he was in love with her.) He uttered it in-between kisses on her neck, right before he pushed inside her. She gasped and wrapped her legs around him, and it felt so... right, somehow, which she wasn't expecting. She'd assumed it would all fall apart, her desire to pursue something with him. That he'd start to take off her shirt and she would be all, Right, I don't want to sleep with Jack. But here she was, groaning and moving with him. She'd gone as far as she could go -- maybe he could go further, she had no idea how crazy he was prepared to get in bed -- and she hadn't come to her senses.
Then it occurred to her she was being completely sensible. That this was the right thing, after all.
He kissed the corner of her mouth before he pulled back and slid his hand between her legs. Her pulse and breath quickened even more, and it... all of this (Jack inside her, his finger on her clit, him watching her) was too much. In a good way. Such a good way that she wasn't so pissed when, afterwards, he speculated that she hadn't ever enjoyed herself so much during sex.
She was a little pissed, sure. But she admitted he was right.
Because, yeah. He was dead-on.
Time number six was on their wedding day. He saw her before she walked down the aisle because he didn't believe in superstitions; bad luck's all in the mind, like allergies, phobias, and the belief that haggis is edible.
"This is going to be my most successful marriage yet." He nodded. "I can feel it."
"You spent most of your first marriage separated from your wife. So. Not a super-high bar."
"But it is a bar. A bar we'll surpass, yes, rather easily--" He stopped, took a breath. "--but a bar nonetheless."
He kissed her.
Seven was later that day as they were sharing dance number four as husband and wife.
"You're not so bad yourself, you know," she replied.
"I do know."
"I know you know. I said 'you know' because I know you know. I know that 'you know' doesn't always mean you know the person knows, but I do know that you know. As you should know, I guess." She paused. "I'm going to stop saying know."
She kissed him.
The eighth time he tells her she's beautiful without adding a qualifier or a back-handed compliment, or changing the subject to a woman (or women) he finds more attractive than her, they're at a fundraiser for Billy Bush's Senate campaign.
(Jack says the run won't be successful, since he's one of the less intelligent Bushes.
"Wow," Liz replies. "There are so many things I could say to that I think I might pass out."
"Calm down, Liz," he says. "You have the rest of your life to insult great Americans.")
He's been introducing her to people as his wife, because, well, she is. It still sounds kind of weird to hear herself being referred to as a wife, but she's getting used to it. She likes being someone's wife. She likes being Jack's wife. Even though he thinks all of the George Bushes are super awesome dudes.
(Her words, not his.)
It's after they extricate themselves from a somewhat awkward conversation with Kevin Costner and a lady who was apparently a contestant on Grease: You're the One That I Want!, after he leads her to the bar with his hand on her back and orders a couple of drinks, that he just looks at her. Just looks at her and says it.
She supposes this won't be the last time, but she doesn't think she really needs to hear it again. She knows how he feels.
END
Prompt: 100_situations #095. Beautiful
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Word Count: 1,245
Rating: R
Table: Number Two.
Notes: This is sort of too cute, even for me. I think it's a reaction to being bummed out by this angst!fic I've been working on. In any case, I still like it, adorableness and all. Hopefully you shall, too.
Summary: Eight times Jack called Liz beautiful.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Tina, NBC, etc. Title is from a Flight of The Conchords song. Don't sue.
*
The first time Jack told Liz she was beautiful without adding a qualifier or a back-handed compliment, or changing the subject to a woman (or women) he found more attractive than her, she didn't feel particularly beautiful. It was at an Emmy after-party (he'd insisted on accompanying her for reasons she didn't understand), during which she drowned her sorrows over losing in enough food to make her feel a little sick.
"Are you... serious?" she said. She shifted her weight with the utmost care; one of her heels had broken off earlier in the evening and she'd stuck it back on with chewing gum.
"Aren't I usually?"
"Yeah. I guess." She eyed him suspiciously. He smiled at her.
She assumed he was on drugs.
The second time he told her she was beautiful, she actually thought she looked pretty good. She'd recently gotten back from a date that she had scheduled before the show because Glen didn't have another free night. And she wasn't sure she wanted to introduce a guy she'd known for a couple of weeks to the after-parties.
"Yeah," she said. "I do look awesome."
"Well, Lemon, I like your confidence."
"You should. Because it's awesome."
"Now you're pushing it."
"Yeah, I know."
With the third, he did add something to his declaration of her beauty, but it wasn't something insulting. To her.
"Much too beautiful to spend your life with an accountant named Glen." He shook his head solemnly, as if her boyfriend's name were a code word for some hideous disease. "Trust me, Lemon; there has never been an exceptional man with the name Glen. And don't recycle that nonsense about him being an accountant to the stars. Doing Steven Martin's taxes is not something one should take pride in."
"I like him, Jack. I like him."
"Do you love him?"
She hesitated. "Well. Not now. But I could. I'm going that way. I'm moving toward love. I'm on a car that's driving to love. Or a boat that's sailing to love. Something like that. I'm going to stop hammering the point home, but yeah. Headed there."
"I don't believe you."
The irritating thing? He was right. She wasn't traveling toward love in any vehicle, but she liked Glen more than a lot of the men she'd recently given a shot. And every day she got a little closer to forty, so liking a guy seemed really important when she couldn't find one to love.
Number four, she was mulling over a proposal from Glen. She brought it up to Jack because she kind of wanted him to talk her out of it. Wanted him to remind her she was too good for him, that she was better than herself and didn't need to settle.
"You're beautiful," he said again, and then just stopped.
"Yeah?"
"You're a beautiful woman, and exceptionally intelligent for someone who votes the Democratic line--"
"You didn't qualify my attractiveness, so you have to qualify my intelligence? I think you should--"
"Not to mention--"
"--just stop being you--"
"--the fact that--"
"--and tell me if--"
"--I am in love with you. So you certainly can do better than Glen, if you'd like to."
Liz blanched; if he was looking to get her attention, he certainly succeeded. "You're not in love with me."
"I am."
"You're not."
"I am."
"You're not." She nodded. "I'm gonna go."
The fifth instance was after she'd officially broken up with Glen. She was in Jack's bed because she couldn't imagine not trying to be with a man who was in love with her. (Because she did know he was in love with her.) He uttered it in-between kisses on her neck, right before he pushed inside her. She gasped and wrapped her legs around him, and it felt so... right, somehow, which she wasn't expecting. She'd assumed it would all fall apart, her desire to pursue something with him. That he'd start to take off her shirt and she would be all, Right, I don't want to sleep with Jack. But here she was, groaning and moving with him. She'd gone as far as she could go -- maybe he could go further, she had no idea how crazy he was prepared to get in bed -- and she hadn't come to her senses.
Then it occurred to her she was being completely sensible. That this was the right thing, after all.
He kissed the corner of her mouth before he pulled back and slid his hand between her legs. Her pulse and breath quickened even more, and it... all of this (Jack inside her, his finger on her clit, him watching her) was too much. In a good way. Such a good way that she wasn't so pissed when, afterwards, he speculated that she hadn't ever enjoyed herself so much during sex.
She was a little pissed, sure. But she admitted he was right.
Because, yeah. He was dead-on.
Time number six was on their wedding day. He saw her before she walked down the aisle because he didn't believe in superstitions; bad luck's all in the mind, like allergies, phobias, and the belief that haggis is edible.
"This is going to be my most successful marriage yet." He nodded. "I can feel it."
"You spent most of your first marriage separated from your wife. So. Not a super-high bar."
"But it is a bar. A bar we'll surpass, yes, rather easily--" He stopped, took a breath. "--but a bar nonetheless."
He kissed her.
Seven was later that day as they were sharing dance number four as husband and wife.
"You're not so bad yourself, you know," she replied.
"I do know."
"I know you know. I said 'you know' because I know you know. I know that 'you know' doesn't always mean you know the person knows, but I do know that you know. As you should know, I guess." She paused. "I'm going to stop saying know."
She kissed him.
The eighth time he tells her she's beautiful without adding a qualifier or a back-handed compliment, or changing the subject to a woman (or women) he finds more attractive than her, they're at a fundraiser for Billy Bush's Senate campaign.
(Jack says the run won't be successful, since he's one of the less intelligent Bushes.
"Wow," Liz replies. "There are so many things I could say to that I think I might pass out."
"Calm down, Liz," he says. "You have the rest of your life to insult great Americans.")
He's been introducing her to people as his wife, because, well, she is. It still sounds kind of weird to hear herself being referred to as a wife, but she's getting used to it. She likes being someone's wife. She likes being Jack's wife. Even though he thinks all of the George Bushes are super awesome dudes.
(Her words, not his.)
It's after they extricate themselves from a somewhat awkward conversation with Kevin Costner and a lady who was apparently a contestant on Grease: You're the One That I Want!, after he leads her to the bar with his hand on her back and orders a couple of drinks, that he just looks at her. Just looks at her and says it.
She supposes this won't be the last time, but she doesn't think she really needs to hear it again. She knows how he feels.
END