Kill Shot (30 Rock, Jack/Liz)
Title: Kill Shot
Prompt: 100_situations #036. Gun
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Spoilers: "The Source Awards"
Word Count: 1,043
Rating: PG
Table: Number Two.
Summary: Jack wants to take her to a firing range.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue!
*
Jack wants to take her to a firing range.
"It's imperative that you learn how to handle a gun. Otherwise, you might accidentally shoot someone again or, even worse, miss when you're attempting to shoot someone."
"I won't, as I'll never be touching another gun." She pauses. "Why would I want to shoot someone?"
"Self-defense, defense of others, over-the-line insult."
"Yeah, that last one's not legal."
"Currently it's not legal for you, granted, but it's possible your financial situation could improve. And, as to your initial objection, I'm sure you thought there'd never be a first time in regards to handling a firearm, and how did that work out?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "You have to be prepared for all of life's possibilities, especially considering that the Blacks are known to be quite vengeful."
"I know you're talking about his family, but I really wish someone had overheard that. Take some of the racist heat off me. I am not a racist. I laughed at a trailer for one of those Madea movies--"
He holds up his hand. "Instead of talking about your history of accepting African-American cinema in incredibly meager ways and inexplicably patting yourself on the back for it, I suggest we do something to better your life."
"You're going to keep bothering me about this until I say yes, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Then, fine. I will go to a firing range with you."
*
Liz has to wear safety goggles and earmuffs. Sadly, the earmuffs don't keep her from hearing Jack talk about the care she must use when handling the weapon.
"It's like a fine piece of art, Lemon," he says, carefully placing it in her left hand, "you must respect it and cherish it."
"It's not my gun." She makes sure not to put her finger on the trigger or point it at Jack, even though he assured her he hasn't put bullets in it yet. "I'm not going to cherish your gun. I don't even want to do this."
"Can't you at least *pretend* to show it a bit of respect?"
"Okay." She stares down at the gun for a moment before patting the barrel with two of her fingers. "Nice to meet you, Jack's gun."
His expression is rather serious, even for him. "There's no need to mock me while I'm trying to help you."
"I'm not trying to mock you... okay, maybe I'm mocking you a little. But I don't know how to respect a gun."
He exhales. "Very well. To begin with, you could not hold it as limply as you are. Keep your finger outside the trigger guard as you grip it."
She holds it tighter.
"Now lift your arm."
"Okay." She lifts her arm, points the gun in the direction of the target.
"Good."
Jack steps closer, picks up a magazine and inserts it into the gun.
"Okay," she says. "It is loaded."
"It is."
"I'm going to shoot this thing, and then you will leave me alone forever." She pauses. "Oh, wow. Sorry. That sounded like I was threatening to kill you."
"To me, it sounded like you're finally respecting the firearm."
She fully turns her body toward the target. "Aren't you going to guide me into the correct stance or whatever?"
(She's seen people do that in movies. TV shows.)
He takes a step closer. "I'm trying to teach you something, Lemon, not arouse you."
"Ew."
He briefly touches her right shoulder. "Grip it with both hands."
"Okay. Like this?"
"You're a natural."
She shakes her head. "I am not."
The toe of his shoe taps against the side of her sneaker. "Spread your legs farther apart."
"Okay."
"Perfect."
"Thanks?"
"Now, aim."
"I'm... I think I'm aiming."
"You're aiming." He leans closer; she can feel his breath on her neck. "Think of everyone who's wronged you--"
"I'm not going to imagine I'm murdering people."
"Lemon."
"Jack."
"Now shoot. And keep shooting."
She takes a breath and pulls the trigger, the recoil making her press back against him. He immediately, probably on instinct, sets his hands on her hips. She hits the target near its heart.
"See? You're a natural."
"I am not!"
His hands stay on her until she leans away from him. Next shot, she keeps her footing. Also on the next shot: she hits the target right between the eyes. Well. Where its eyes would be.
"You've done this before," Jack says. "You did shoot him on purpose. It was wise not to go for a kill shot on him; he only needed to be scared away."
"I didn't shoot him on purpose!" Another shot to the heart. "Son of a bitch!"
"You can tell me. I'm sure your run of subpar suitors has made you understandably angry, and no jury would convict you even if I did share this information with the police."
"You're thinking of calling the police?"
Another head shot.
He's silent for a moment. "Not now, Lemon. I have no intention of turning you in now."
Liz puts the gun down and turns to him. "I didn't do that to threaten you! I did not shoot him on purpose, I swear."
Jack studies her for a moment. "I find your tone sincere. I believe you." He looks her over, like he's... well, she doesn't know what he's doing. "You are a natural."
Well, that clears up nothing. "You already said that. And seriously, I am not. And I'm never shooting your stupid gun again."
"You don't need to. As I said--"
"I'm not a natural. Not!"
"If your anti-gun, liberal heart has to believe that--"
"It does. Because it's true."
He leans closer, reaching past her to pick up the firearm. "Okay, Lemon," he says noncommittally, putting the safety back on and returning the gun to the wooden box he keeps it in. "Very well."
"So... we're done, right? You're satisfied."
He nods. "And did you feel some satisfaction--"
"From shooting a gun? No."
"No?" He raises his eyebrows. "Then I suppose you actually failed to imagine those who've wronged you?"
"I did. Fail to do that. Anyway. Goodbye, Jack. Goodbye, Jack's gun."
"If you ever want to go hunting--"
She holds up her hand. "Goodbye."
END
Prompt: 100_situations #036. Gun
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Spoilers: "The Source Awards"
Word Count: 1,043
Rating: PG
Table: Number Two.
Summary: Jack wants to take her to a firing range.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue!
*
Jack wants to take her to a firing range.
"It's imperative that you learn how to handle a gun. Otherwise, you might accidentally shoot someone again or, even worse, miss when you're attempting to shoot someone."
"I won't, as I'll never be touching another gun." She pauses. "Why would I want to shoot someone?"
"Self-defense, defense of others, over-the-line insult."
"Yeah, that last one's not legal."
"Currently it's not legal for you, granted, but it's possible your financial situation could improve. And, as to your initial objection, I'm sure you thought there'd never be a first time in regards to handling a firearm, and how did that work out?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "You have to be prepared for all of life's possibilities, especially considering that the Blacks are known to be quite vengeful."
"I know you're talking about his family, but I really wish someone had overheard that. Take some of the racist heat off me. I am not a racist. I laughed at a trailer for one of those Madea movies--"
He holds up his hand. "Instead of talking about your history of accepting African-American cinema in incredibly meager ways and inexplicably patting yourself on the back for it, I suggest we do something to better your life."
"You're going to keep bothering me about this until I say yes, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Then, fine. I will go to a firing range with you."
*
Liz has to wear safety goggles and earmuffs. Sadly, the earmuffs don't keep her from hearing Jack talk about the care she must use when handling the weapon.
"It's like a fine piece of art, Lemon," he says, carefully placing it in her left hand, "you must respect it and cherish it."
"It's not my gun." She makes sure not to put her finger on the trigger or point it at Jack, even though he assured her he hasn't put bullets in it yet. "I'm not going to cherish your gun. I don't even want to do this."
"Can't you at least *pretend* to show it a bit of respect?"
"Okay." She stares down at the gun for a moment before patting the barrel with two of her fingers. "Nice to meet you, Jack's gun."
His expression is rather serious, even for him. "There's no need to mock me while I'm trying to help you."
"I'm not trying to mock you... okay, maybe I'm mocking you a little. But I don't know how to respect a gun."
He exhales. "Very well. To begin with, you could not hold it as limply as you are. Keep your finger outside the trigger guard as you grip it."
She holds it tighter.
"Now lift your arm."
"Okay." She lifts her arm, points the gun in the direction of the target.
"Good."
Jack steps closer, picks up a magazine and inserts it into the gun.
"Okay," she says. "It is loaded."
"It is."
"I'm going to shoot this thing, and then you will leave me alone forever." She pauses. "Oh, wow. Sorry. That sounded like I was threatening to kill you."
"To me, it sounded like you're finally respecting the firearm."
She fully turns her body toward the target. "Aren't you going to guide me into the correct stance or whatever?"
(She's seen people do that in movies. TV shows.)
He takes a step closer. "I'm trying to teach you something, Lemon, not arouse you."
"Ew."
He briefly touches her right shoulder. "Grip it with both hands."
"Okay. Like this?"
"You're a natural."
She shakes her head. "I am not."
The toe of his shoe taps against the side of her sneaker. "Spread your legs farther apart."
"Okay."
"Perfect."
"Thanks?"
"Now, aim."
"I'm... I think I'm aiming."
"You're aiming." He leans closer; she can feel his breath on her neck. "Think of everyone who's wronged you--"
"I'm not going to imagine I'm murdering people."
"Lemon."
"Jack."
"Now shoot. And keep shooting."
She takes a breath and pulls the trigger, the recoil making her press back against him. He immediately, probably on instinct, sets his hands on her hips. She hits the target near its heart.
"See? You're a natural."
"I am not!"
His hands stay on her until she leans away from him. Next shot, she keeps her footing. Also on the next shot: she hits the target right between the eyes. Well. Where its eyes would be.
"You've done this before," Jack says. "You did shoot him on purpose. It was wise not to go for a kill shot on him; he only needed to be scared away."
"I didn't shoot him on purpose!" Another shot to the heart. "Son of a bitch!"
"You can tell me. I'm sure your run of subpar suitors has made you understandably angry, and no jury would convict you even if I did share this information with the police."
"You're thinking of calling the police?"
Another head shot.
He's silent for a moment. "Not now, Lemon. I have no intention of turning you in now."
Liz puts the gun down and turns to him. "I didn't do that to threaten you! I did not shoot him on purpose, I swear."
Jack studies her for a moment. "I find your tone sincere. I believe you." He looks her over, like he's... well, she doesn't know what he's doing. "You are a natural."
Well, that clears up nothing. "You already said that. And seriously, I am not. And I'm never shooting your stupid gun again."
"You don't need to. As I said--"
"I'm not a natural. Not!"
"If your anti-gun, liberal heart has to believe that--"
"It does. Because it's true."
He leans closer, reaching past her to pick up the firearm. "Okay, Lemon," he says noncommittally, putting the safety back on and returning the gun to the wooden box he keeps it in. "Very well."
"So... we're done, right? You're satisfied."
He nods. "And did you feel some satisfaction--"
"From shooting a gun? No."
"No?" He raises his eyebrows. "Then I suppose you actually failed to imagine those who've wronged you?"
"I did. Fail to do that. Anyway. Goodbye, Jack. Goodbye, Jack's gun."
"If you ever want to go hunting--"
She holds up her hand. "Goodbye."
END