Fake (Liz/Floyd, mentioned Liz/Carol)
Title: Fake
Prompt: 100_situations #057. Test
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Liz/Floyd, mentioned Liz/Carol
Spoilers: through 'I Do Do'
Word Count: 751
Rating: PG
Table: Number Two.
Summary: It's years (exact number: three) before Liz apologizes for screwing up Floyd's wedding.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue!
*
It's years (exact number: three) before Liz apologizes for screwing up Floyd's wedding. She probably never would have, except she runs into Floyd (in an optometrist's office, and she wonders how long they've shared an eye doctor) and after they exchange pleasantries:
"I'm sorry. About your wedding," she blurts out. She feels nervous (and like she's being asked to test her ability to be nonchalant about things she doesn't feel very nonchalant about). "Okay? I did it for Jack."
He seems vaguely amused (she forgot she could make him smile, and she feels an ache somewhere that she doesn't want to linger on, doesn't want to examine long enough to find the source). "For Jack?"
"He wanted me to stall so he had time to convince his girlfriend to stay with him. And I did it. Because I'm an idiot." She smiles (tensely).
"You're a good friend. I wish you didn't have to prove it at my wedding--" He's still smiling.
She relaxes (somewhat).
"--but it wasn't that bad. Really." He pauses. "Did he?"
"Did he what?"
"Convince his girlfriend to stay with him?"
"Yeah. But then he found out his other girlfriend was pregnant. So."
Her words are said haltingly, and Floyd responds with his own version of a judgmental face. (She'll admit it's more pleasant than her own. She'll admit she stands in front of a mirror sometimes, telling herself to *look* nice, to *look* happy, and it never takes.) "Oh."
She exhales. "I know, right?"
"He's a... busy guy."
"Yeah. And he just got divorced. Who would think that marrying a woman you dated for three months, a woman you were fooling around on, would not lead to a solid marriage?"
Floyd looks a bit perplexed; he doesn't know the back-story but it's not that hard to piece together, at least the broad strokes, and she responds with:
"Long story. So now he's back to sleeping with every woman who's willing, which is not gross at all." It feels good to criticize Jack; she can't do it to his face, and no one else she knows wants to hear it. But there's guilt almost instantly, like wanting him to settle down (which he claims he wants, it just never *feels* right when he tries) is a betrayal. "He's a good father," she adds to make herself feel better. She wonders why she's talking about Jack; an excuse, she assumes, to keep from revealing anything about herself. But she has to, and so: "I'm divorced, too. We got divorced around the same time, actually. Jack and me." (Their divorce papers arrived on the same day and, that night, she let herself get drunk with him. Jack signed his papers right away, but Liz delayed the inevitable for a week.) "Did you know I got married?"
"No. I didn't."
"Well, that didn't last. Obviously." Her smile is tense (still).
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It's... I shouldn't have brought it up."
"We're catching up, so--"
"Yeah."
"I guess you don't want to talk about him..."
"No." For a while, Carol was perfect. For a while, she convinced herself she could be happy. It was like Floyd all over again (right down to him not being able to handle her, and she wonders if her ex-husband is currently with some vacant, pretty, upbeat woman). "No, I do not." She should change the subject. She wants to change the subject. "And how are you? How are you and Caitlin?"
"Great." He nods. "It's... things are going great."
She bites her lip for a moment to keep from letting out something sarcastic, less than kind, resentful. (Why is he still married? Why does she still care?) "I'm happy for you. Tell her I said hi."
"I will. It's been nice seeing you," he says.
(He's lying?)
"It's been nice seeing you, too."
(She's not lying. She's not, but it's more complicated than that, than a generic sentence she's said to who knows how many people.)
They say goodbye with a handshake (like they're old friends, and maybe that's what they are, maybe he's far enough away from the time when she seemed like a viable option that she's become a pal). She goes home to an empty apartment. She finds herself thinking about Floyd, but when Jack calls later she doesn't bring him up (it would sound more mundane than it feels, and she doesn't want to be dismissed). She thinks about Floyd (and wonders why she's happiest with, longs most for, the men who don't want to stay), and wishes she still had delusions to cling to; fantasies, at this point, seem better than nothing.
END
Prompt: 100_situations #057. Test
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Liz/Floyd, mentioned Liz/Carol
Spoilers: through 'I Do Do'
Word Count: 751
Rating: PG
Table: Number Two.
Summary: It's years (exact number: three) before Liz apologizes for screwing up Floyd's wedding.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue!
*
It's years (exact number: three) before Liz apologizes for screwing up Floyd's wedding. She probably never would have, except she runs into Floyd (in an optometrist's office, and she wonders how long they've shared an eye doctor) and after they exchange pleasantries:
"I'm sorry. About your wedding," she blurts out. She feels nervous (and like she's being asked to test her ability to be nonchalant about things she doesn't feel very nonchalant about). "Okay? I did it for Jack."
He seems vaguely amused (she forgot she could make him smile, and she feels an ache somewhere that she doesn't want to linger on, doesn't want to examine long enough to find the source). "For Jack?"
"He wanted me to stall so he had time to convince his girlfriend to stay with him. And I did it. Because I'm an idiot." She smiles (tensely).
"You're a good friend. I wish you didn't have to prove it at my wedding--" He's still smiling.
She relaxes (somewhat).
"--but it wasn't that bad. Really." He pauses. "Did he?"
"Did he what?"
"Convince his girlfriend to stay with him?"
"Yeah. But then he found out his other girlfriend was pregnant. So."
Her words are said haltingly, and Floyd responds with his own version of a judgmental face. (She'll admit it's more pleasant than her own. She'll admit she stands in front of a mirror sometimes, telling herself to *look* nice, to *look* happy, and it never takes.) "Oh."
She exhales. "I know, right?"
"He's a... busy guy."
"Yeah. And he just got divorced. Who would think that marrying a woman you dated for three months, a woman you were fooling around on, would not lead to a solid marriage?"
Floyd looks a bit perplexed; he doesn't know the back-story but it's not that hard to piece together, at least the broad strokes, and she responds with:
"Long story. So now he's back to sleeping with every woman who's willing, which is not gross at all." It feels good to criticize Jack; she can't do it to his face, and no one else she knows wants to hear it. But there's guilt almost instantly, like wanting him to settle down (which he claims he wants, it just never *feels* right when he tries) is a betrayal. "He's a good father," she adds to make herself feel better. She wonders why she's talking about Jack; an excuse, she assumes, to keep from revealing anything about herself. But she has to, and so: "I'm divorced, too. We got divorced around the same time, actually. Jack and me." (Their divorce papers arrived on the same day and, that night, she let herself get drunk with him. Jack signed his papers right away, but Liz delayed the inevitable for a week.) "Did you know I got married?"
"No. I didn't."
"Well, that didn't last. Obviously." Her smile is tense (still).
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It's... I shouldn't have brought it up."
"We're catching up, so--"
"Yeah."
"I guess you don't want to talk about him..."
"No." For a while, Carol was perfect. For a while, she convinced herself she could be happy. It was like Floyd all over again (right down to him not being able to handle her, and she wonders if her ex-husband is currently with some vacant, pretty, upbeat woman). "No, I do not." She should change the subject. She wants to change the subject. "And how are you? How are you and Caitlin?"
"Great." He nods. "It's... things are going great."
She bites her lip for a moment to keep from letting out something sarcastic, less than kind, resentful. (Why is he still married? Why does she still care?) "I'm happy for you. Tell her I said hi."
"I will. It's been nice seeing you," he says.
(He's lying?)
"It's been nice seeing you, too."
(She's not lying. She's not, but it's more complicated than that, than a generic sentence she's said to who knows how many people.)
They say goodbye with a handshake (like they're old friends, and maybe that's what they are, maybe he's far enough away from the time when she seemed like a viable option that she's become a pal). She goes home to an empty apartment. She finds herself thinking about Floyd, but when Jack calls later she doesn't bring him up (it would sound more mundane than it feels, and she doesn't want to be dismissed). She thinks about Floyd (and wonders why she's happiest with, longs most for, the men who don't want to stay), and wishes she still had delusions to cling to; fantasies, at this point, seem better than nothing.
END