The Closest We Can Get (30 Rock, Jack/Liz)
Title: The Closest We Can Get
For: The Alphabet Meme
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Prompt: P is for Partner. (For muic.)
Word Count: 1,223
Rating: PG
Notes: This started off as one thing and became something else. I hope it is liked!
Summary: They have a good partnership. They could have a better one. Future fic, spoilers through 'I Do Do.'
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue!
*
After TGS ends, he and Liz start producing shows together. Jack considers this a good partnership, one that results in a rather successful Dealbreakers talk show (they audition for a couple of weeks to find someone who's Lemon-esque in ways that don't extend to neuroses, then give her a co-writing credit on Liz's next book to make the spin-off seem more reasonable) and a hit sitcom (created by Toofer and Lutz, and Jack will admit he isn't happy that he's contributed to the success of someone like Lutz) among other projects Liz is less proud of (she has standards, in a way, but not in a way that prevents them from making money, so he doesn't try to dissuade her from feeling guilty that she has an executive producer credit on Celebrity Sex Rehab; Jack himself is uncomfortable with the amount of venereal diseases contracted during the show's short run). One that keeps Liz in his life. (If her career weren't thriving in New York, she might have moved to California with Carol. Not that he believes she would have stayed for long; it was clear their relationship wouldn't have lasted, regardless of his apparent tolerance for her foot problems. What they had was too perfect, and Liz could never let herself trust it.)
One that, from time to time, makes him wonder. Wonder if it doesn't say something that he's fallen out of love with every woman who's captured his heart, who's made him feel unbridled passion, but he hasn't stopped caring for Liz. Perhaps he should be assessing relationships more rationally instead of taking the first blush of attraction as proof he's finally found the woman with whom he'll want to spend the rest of his life. But when he does truly examine the possibility of he and Lemon being more than business partners, more than friends, his head tells him that it wouldn't last. Wouldn't work.
He continuously comes to this conclusion for years, until after he's had two more broken engagements following his split with Avery, who turned out not to be having his baby and, after time, decided she couldn't trust him (and after Avery was Marina, who turned out to enjoy his money more than she enjoyed him, then Lisa, who didn't want kids, had apparently never wanted kids, and, unlike Jack years ago, didn't have a change of heart), after Liz has had her marriage to Wesley annulled (they met up again as she was about to turn forty-five and she decided it was time to give up, but when they attempted to consummate the marriage, she realized she couldn't stomach it and shut the whole disaster down), when Jack is much closer to sixty than he is to fifty. So then, after years of turmoil and loneliness, after accepting that he'll never find himself in a romance that lasts, it seems more reasonable, the idea that Liz Lemon, the woman who's stood by him no matter what, might be the one to save him from spending the rest of his life alone.
He asks her out to dinner, and she wears the black dress she always seems to put on whenever he takes her somewhere that isn't a hot dog stand or sub shop. She doesn't question why he's asked her out; probably doesn't think there to be any motive behind the invitation (he no longer proposes shows over a meal, unless Liz eating a sandwich in her office while he brainstorms counts). So, he's not surprised when she responds to his "Lemon, I believe it's time we settled" with a blank stare.
She tilts her head a little. "And you mean what by this?" she asks incredulously. "Because I'm not marrying Wesley again."
"We should both settle. You should marry me."
"No," she blurts out. "No. What are you... No."
"Think about it practically, Liz; we're the only members of the opposite sex the other has gotten along with for more than six months, and we've managed to be friendly for much longer than that. Ten years--"
"I've known Frank for twelve years, so--"
"Frank? I hardly think your relationship with Frank compares to your relationship with me. And my genes are superior to his; do you honestly want to put your children at a disadvantage by saddling them with faces that may resemble his?"
"Why are you seriously arguing this?" she huffs. "I'm not going to marry Frank. I'm not going to marry you."
"Since Leo's experimental trial was a failure, I'm certain neither of us will ever get any younger--"
"I tried settling, Jack. I tried it, and it sucked."
"You hated Wesley. You don't hate me."
She ponders this for a moment. "Sometimes I do."
"And the fact that you still trust me more than you trust anyone despite those flare-ups of loathing proves that we're as compatible as two people can be."
"No," she says. "Yes. I don't know."
"We can have the children we both want. We can be sure that someone will be there in the middle of the night to listen to our problems; that we won't wake up alone. We can stop throwing ourselves into relationships that won't last. We won't have to go home to an empty apartment, trying to fill the silence by inviting a former lover over for a meaningless bout of hate sex--"
"I don't think that last one applies to 'we.'"
He leans forward. "I know you better than I've ever known any woman, and I know I could make you happier than you have been."
"Yeah, but is that so great?" she says shakily. "Because I've been really miserable. I don't think marrying another guy who doesn't love me is going to make me feel more awesome."
He puts his hand over hers. "We may not be in love," he says, "but we certainly care for each other. Being in love hasn't made my life better, Lemon, and I don't believe it's done anything for you, either. But our friendship, our partnership, has improved my life, and I know it's had an even greater effect on you."
She laughs instead of rolling her eyes, which he takes as a good sign. "Maybe it does make sense. Note that I said *maybe.* But what if we find the loves of our lives and we're stuck together--"
They're not going to find the loves of their lives, but he doesn't tell her the time has passed for that to happen; deep down, she already knows. "We can walk away. There doesn't need to be bitterness, because we know what we're getting into. There doesn't need to be betrayal, because we've never let ourselves pretend the depths of our feelings for each other are greater than they are. We can go back to what we have been. Our partnership is solid; that's why we should take it further."
She silently stares at him, eyes widened a little.
"You can think about it."
She looks down. "No, I don't..." She meets his eyes again, the hint of fear gone from her face. "I don't need to think about it. Yeah, okay. Let's do it."
He gives her a small, warm smile. She returns it.
Yes. They have a very good partnership.
He has faith it will last.
END
For: The Alphabet Meme
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Prompt: P is for Partner. (For muic.)
Word Count: 1,223
Rating: PG
Notes: This started off as one thing and became something else. I hope it is liked!
Summary: They have a good partnership. They could have a better one. Future fic, spoilers through 'I Do Do.'
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue!
*
After TGS ends, he and Liz start producing shows together. Jack considers this a good partnership, one that results in a rather successful Dealbreakers talk show (they audition for a couple of weeks to find someone who's Lemon-esque in ways that don't extend to neuroses, then give her a co-writing credit on Liz's next book to make the spin-off seem more reasonable) and a hit sitcom (created by Toofer and Lutz, and Jack will admit he isn't happy that he's contributed to the success of someone like Lutz) among other projects Liz is less proud of (she has standards, in a way, but not in a way that prevents them from making money, so he doesn't try to dissuade her from feeling guilty that she has an executive producer credit on Celebrity Sex Rehab; Jack himself is uncomfortable with the amount of venereal diseases contracted during the show's short run). One that keeps Liz in his life. (If her career weren't thriving in New York, she might have moved to California with Carol. Not that he believes she would have stayed for long; it was clear their relationship wouldn't have lasted, regardless of his apparent tolerance for her foot problems. What they had was too perfect, and Liz could never let herself trust it.)
One that, from time to time, makes him wonder. Wonder if it doesn't say something that he's fallen out of love with every woman who's captured his heart, who's made him feel unbridled passion, but he hasn't stopped caring for Liz. Perhaps he should be assessing relationships more rationally instead of taking the first blush of attraction as proof he's finally found the woman with whom he'll want to spend the rest of his life. But when he does truly examine the possibility of he and Lemon being more than business partners, more than friends, his head tells him that it wouldn't last. Wouldn't work.
He continuously comes to this conclusion for years, until after he's had two more broken engagements following his split with Avery, who turned out not to be having his baby and, after time, decided she couldn't trust him (and after Avery was Marina, who turned out to enjoy his money more than she enjoyed him, then Lisa, who didn't want kids, had apparently never wanted kids, and, unlike Jack years ago, didn't have a change of heart), after Liz has had her marriage to Wesley annulled (they met up again as she was about to turn forty-five and she decided it was time to give up, but when they attempted to consummate the marriage, she realized she couldn't stomach it and shut the whole disaster down), when Jack is much closer to sixty than he is to fifty. So then, after years of turmoil and loneliness, after accepting that he'll never find himself in a romance that lasts, it seems more reasonable, the idea that Liz Lemon, the woman who's stood by him no matter what, might be the one to save him from spending the rest of his life alone.
He asks her out to dinner, and she wears the black dress she always seems to put on whenever he takes her somewhere that isn't a hot dog stand or sub shop. She doesn't question why he's asked her out; probably doesn't think there to be any motive behind the invitation (he no longer proposes shows over a meal, unless Liz eating a sandwich in her office while he brainstorms counts). So, he's not surprised when she responds to his "Lemon, I believe it's time we settled" with a blank stare.
She tilts her head a little. "And you mean what by this?" she asks incredulously. "Because I'm not marrying Wesley again."
"We should both settle. You should marry me."
"No," she blurts out. "No. What are you... No."
"Think about it practically, Liz; we're the only members of the opposite sex the other has gotten along with for more than six months, and we've managed to be friendly for much longer than that. Ten years--"
"I've known Frank for twelve years, so--"
"Frank? I hardly think your relationship with Frank compares to your relationship with me. And my genes are superior to his; do you honestly want to put your children at a disadvantage by saddling them with faces that may resemble his?"
"Why are you seriously arguing this?" she huffs. "I'm not going to marry Frank. I'm not going to marry you."
"Since Leo's experimental trial was a failure, I'm certain neither of us will ever get any younger--"
"I tried settling, Jack. I tried it, and it sucked."
"You hated Wesley. You don't hate me."
She ponders this for a moment. "Sometimes I do."
"And the fact that you still trust me more than you trust anyone despite those flare-ups of loathing proves that we're as compatible as two people can be."
"No," she says. "Yes. I don't know."
"We can have the children we both want. We can be sure that someone will be there in the middle of the night to listen to our problems; that we won't wake up alone. We can stop throwing ourselves into relationships that won't last. We won't have to go home to an empty apartment, trying to fill the silence by inviting a former lover over for a meaningless bout of hate sex--"
"I don't think that last one applies to 'we.'"
He leans forward. "I know you better than I've ever known any woman, and I know I could make you happier than you have been."
"Yeah, but is that so great?" she says shakily. "Because I've been really miserable. I don't think marrying another guy who doesn't love me is going to make me feel more awesome."
He puts his hand over hers. "We may not be in love," he says, "but we certainly care for each other. Being in love hasn't made my life better, Lemon, and I don't believe it's done anything for you, either. But our friendship, our partnership, has improved my life, and I know it's had an even greater effect on you."
She laughs instead of rolling her eyes, which he takes as a good sign. "Maybe it does make sense. Note that I said *maybe.* But what if we find the loves of our lives and we're stuck together--"
They're not going to find the loves of their lives, but he doesn't tell her the time has passed for that to happen; deep down, she already knows. "We can walk away. There doesn't need to be bitterness, because we know what we're getting into. There doesn't need to be betrayal, because we've never let ourselves pretend the depths of our feelings for each other are greater than they are. We can go back to what we have been. Our partnership is solid; that's why we should take it further."
She silently stares at him, eyes widened a little.
"You can think about it."
She looks down. "No, I don't..." She meets his eyes again, the hint of fear gone from her face. "I don't need to think about it. Yeah, okay. Let's do it."
He gives her a small, warm smile. She returns it.
Yes. They have a very good partnership.
He has faith it will last.
END