[ fic: 30 rock ]
Title: After Dinner Mints
Pairing: Jack/Liz (mostly friendship)
Rating: PG
Spoilers: 3x03 - The One with the Cast of 'Night Court'
Length: 837 words
Disclaimer: 30 Rock is not mine and belongs to far more awesome people.
Summary: "It’s not like her and Jack ever really hung out outside work hours anyway. Not often. And never on a Wednesday night..."
So some part of her had imagined spending the evening hanging out with her old friend from Chicago, but as usual her friend was out with some guy - some guy Liz had introduced her to - and she was at home with a box of After Dinner Mints in her a lap and a repeat of Night Court on television.
Nope, nothing had changed. In the years since she had moved to New York, Liz hadn’t changed one little bit, and seeing an old friend from Chicago just reminded her of that.
One day, she would change.
Maybe tomorrow.
She picked up her remote and flicked channels, she’d had enough Night Court for one day. Her options were Family Guy, The Simpsons or football.
“Blerg…” she muttered and left it on Family Guy as she wandered to the kitchen to find more food.
It wasn’t like she cared that Jack had chosen to hang out with Claire over her. It’s not like her and Jack ever really hung out outside work hours anyway. Not often. And never on a Wednesday night, so clearly whether Claire was there with Jack or not it didn’t matter because her night was still the same as it was every other Wednesday night.
Except in the back of her mind she was picturing Jack making out with Claire. Or worse.
Eew.
Trying to push the thoughts aside she stared blankly into her fridge. A half-rotted lettuce, half a block of cheese and one slice of bread. The end slice that was mainly crust anyway.
Maybe this was one of those nights that called for Chinese take-out.
She closed the fridge with all intentions of heading outside and grabbing Chinese from the nearest open store. She picked up her keys and as she reached for her phone it rang.
“Blerg,” she stated to herself as she noticed who was calling.
The difference between right then and any other Wednesday night was if it had been any other Wednesday night she wouldn’t have hesitated before answering the call. In fact she would have done the exact opposite and jumped at the opportunity to have some sort of company, even if it was over the phone.
She spent a few moments longer staring at the phone before she felt the anger wash over her. He had gotten himself into this mess, why should she answer the phone and bail him out? He wouldn’t call her unless he needed help, he wasn’t the type to admit defeat easily.
Although he did tend to admit defeat to her before he would to anyone else.
Not that that meant anything.
She hit reject on the phone, only to notice that instead of hanging up the button had answered.
“Damnit…” she held the phone to her ear.
“That was a nice welcoming, Lemon,” Jack’s voice filtered through the phone.
It was quiet, wherever he was it wasn’t out in a club that Claire liked, or even in the line waiting for one.
“Where are you?” Liz asked, forgetting her earlier anger.
“Night court,” he replied.
Seriously? He wanted her to believe he was at night court? After Kenneth and Tracey filming their alternate Night Court finale on her stage, and after her sitting there watching repeats all night. Was he stalking her or something?
Maybe he had a camera attached to her ceiling.
She glanced up at her ceiling trying to spot a hidden camera.
“Lemon? Are you there?”
“Yes. Did you put a secret camera in my apartment? Because that’s sick, Jack. Was it Claire’s idea? It seems like something she would do…or maybe it’s a microphone, hidden in my bag? Or maybe you hired someone to follow…”
“Why would I put a camera in your apartment? I can’t say I’m particularly interested in what you spend your spare time doing, I am fully aware it‘s nothing interesting, but I do need your help…I may have been arrested.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. Of course he wasn’t spying on her, he wouldn’t bother. She wondered where her sudden paranoia had come from and sighed audibly.
“Where are you?” she replied.
He gave her the address and she scribbled it on the back of her TV Guide.
“I’ll be there as soon as possible…”
“Thank you, Lemon. I’ll explain everything later.”
He hung up, but she knew he needn’t explain anything. There was no way Jack Donaghy would get arrested for anything, not unless Claire had set him up for it.
As mad as she was at him for falling for Claire’s trap, she couldn’t help but feel warm inside that she was the person he had called to come and rescue him. Although she suspected that there wasn’t really anyone else he could call past midnight in the middle of the week to pick him up from night court who wouldn’t judge him for it.
And she totally had to figure out how to delete numbers and reject calls before she had anymore arguments with people.
Pairing: Jack/Liz (mostly friendship)
Rating: PG
Spoilers: 3x03 - The One with the Cast of 'Night Court'
Length: 837 words
Disclaimer: 30 Rock is not mine and belongs to far more awesome people.
Summary: "It’s not like her and Jack ever really hung out outside work hours anyway. Not often. And never on a Wednesday night..."
So some part of her had imagined spending the evening hanging out with her old friend from Chicago, but as usual her friend was out with some guy - some guy Liz had introduced her to - and she was at home with a box of After Dinner Mints in her a lap and a repeat of Night Court on television.
Nope, nothing had changed. In the years since she had moved to New York, Liz hadn’t changed one little bit, and seeing an old friend from Chicago just reminded her of that.
One day, she would change.
Maybe tomorrow.
She picked up her remote and flicked channels, she’d had enough Night Court for one day. Her options were Family Guy, The Simpsons or football.
“Blerg…” she muttered and left it on Family Guy as she wandered to the kitchen to find more food.
It wasn’t like she cared that Jack had chosen to hang out with Claire over her. It’s not like her and Jack ever really hung out outside work hours anyway. Not often. And never on a Wednesday night, so clearly whether Claire was there with Jack or not it didn’t matter because her night was still the same as it was every other Wednesday night.
Except in the back of her mind she was picturing Jack making out with Claire. Or worse.
Eew.
Trying to push the thoughts aside she stared blankly into her fridge. A half-rotted lettuce, half a block of cheese and one slice of bread. The end slice that was mainly crust anyway.
Maybe this was one of those nights that called for Chinese take-out.
She closed the fridge with all intentions of heading outside and grabbing Chinese from the nearest open store. She picked up her keys and as she reached for her phone it rang.
“Blerg,” she stated to herself as she noticed who was calling.
The difference between right then and any other Wednesday night was if it had been any other Wednesday night she wouldn’t have hesitated before answering the call. In fact she would have done the exact opposite and jumped at the opportunity to have some sort of company, even if it was over the phone.
She spent a few moments longer staring at the phone before she felt the anger wash over her. He had gotten himself into this mess, why should she answer the phone and bail him out? He wouldn’t call her unless he needed help, he wasn’t the type to admit defeat easily.
Although he did tend to admit defeat to her before he would to anyone else.
Not that that meant anything.
She hit reject on the phone, only to notice that instead of hanging up the button had answered.
“Damnit…” she held the phone to her ear.
“That was a nice welcoming, Lemon,” Jack’s voice filtered through the phone.
It was quiet, wherever he was it wasn’t out in a club that Claire liked, or even in the line waiting for one.
“Where are you?” Liz asked, forgetting her earlier anger.
“Night court,” he replied.
Seriously? He wanted her to believe he was at night court? After Kenneth and Tracey filming their alternate Night Court finale on her stage, and after her sitting there watching repeats all night. Was he stalking her or something?
Maybe he had a camera attached to her ceiling.
She glanced up at her ceiling trying to spot a hidden camera.
“Lemon? Are you there?”
“Yes. Did you put a secret camera in my apartment? Because that’s sick, Jack. Was it Claire’s idea? It seems like something she would do…or maybe it’s a microphone, hidden in my bag? Or maybe you hired someone to follow…”
“Why would I put a camera in your apartment? I can’t say I’m particularly interested in what you spend your spare time doing, I am fully aware it‘s nothing interesting, but I do need your help…I may have been arrested.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. Of course he wasn’t spying on her, he wouldn’t bother. She wondered where her sudden paranoia had come from and sighed audibly.
“Where are you?” she replied.
He gave her the address and she scribbled it on the back of her TV Guide.
“I’ll be there as soon as possible…”
“Thank you, Lemon. I’ll explain everything later.”
He hung up, but she knew he needn’t explain anything. There was no way Jack Donaghy would get arrested for anything, not unless Claire had set him up for it.
As mad as she was at him for falling for Claire’s trap, she couldn’t help but feel warm inside that she was the person he had called to come and rescue him. Although she suspected that there wasn’t really anyone else he could call past midnight in the middle of the week to pick him up from night court who wouldn’t judge him for it.
And she totally had to figure out how to delete numbers and reject calls before she had anymore arguments with people.