Unhappily Ever After (Jack/Liz, taxicab confessions)
Title: Unhappily Ever After
Author: stamatina_rae
For: ham_napkin
Prompt: Jack/Liz, taxicab confessions
Rating: R (language)
Word Count: 890
Spoilers: Through "Anna Howard Shaw Day" (the existence of Avery)
Summary: Future based friendship fic, Liz confesses a secret to Jack
A/N: Day 3 of 5 day fic challenge. This one's kind of angst, and just friendship, but hopefully enjoyable none the less :) Thanks for reading!!
Feedback/comments always appreciated.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Don't sue.
"I think he's cheating on me."
Jack's head snaps to the left, fixates on her apathetic, blank face staring out the window of the cab, hoping to God he misheard her. "What?"
"Tom's cheating on me. With his secretary. How fucking cliché is that?"
Liz turns towards him, looks at him with those deeply intense, dark brown pools, now brimming with tears. He's shocked. Truly shocked. He thought Liz had finally met and married ‘the one.’ Tom was supposed to be it. The one to love her and cherish her for the rest of her life. The man to give her everything she ever wanted, and so profoundly deserved.
He sees the first tear roll down her cheek, glistening off the lights of the city as they speed northward up 8th Ave. He reaches across the seat to take her hand.
Before they reach the next stoplight, she's pressed firmly to his chest, head on his shoulder. He says the first thing that comes to mind. "I'm so sorry."
"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything."
"I'm sorry that he hurt you."
She starts to weep softly. They ride in near silence until pulling up to her building. One look at the handsome townhouse, purchased just before her wedding, and she's sobbing.
"I can't go in there, Jack. I can't be alone in there while he's out fucking her."
"Shh, shh. It's okay," he gently quiets her, reflexively cradling her in his arms. "It's okay, I'm here."
Her balled up fist clutches the lapel of his tuxedo. She can’t seem to stop the floodgate of tears. Seeing her in such pain produces a reciprocal, crushing pain in his chest.
"Change of plans, there's only going to be one stop," he tells the driver and gives him his own address.
****
"Should I open a bottle of wine?"
She drops her purse on the floor, right next to her kicked off heels, and collapses on his couch. "I just told you my husband of six months is schtooping somebody else, and then scared the shit out of our cab driver with my complete meltdown. What do you think?"
At least she's composed enough to deflect some of the pain with humor, he thinks to himself, per her usual routine. He knows her, though. Knows her better than he's ever known another living soul. And she's teetering on the edge of emotional collapse.
But he can’t seem to stifle the overabundant, strange silence between them. He wishes he knew what to say to her. How to comfort her better. Filling the pair of exquisite crystal wine glasses, Liz’s wedding gift to him, all he can think to say is, "I can recommend a very good divorce lawyer. The best in the city.”
“Yours or Avery’s?” she chuckles.
“She was way better than mine,” he laughs back.
“A real ball buster, huh?”
He exhales roughly and comically places the chilled bottle of white wine between his legs. "Oh, yeah," he confesses, his voice pure gravel.
She smiles into her glass, takes a healthy swig. "Well, thanks for the offer. It may be a bit premature, though."
"What do you mean?"
"What do you mean what I mean?"
"But Liz..." he stammers, aghast, "how can you possibly stay with him?"
"Well I'm not positive he's cheating. I think he his, but I don't know that for sure."
He's silent again. Finding himself in a rare state of sadness, hopelessness...furiousness. At the man who's won her heart and broken it into pieces, while he could do nothing to stop it.
Liz seems genuinely perplexed by his sudden lose for words. "You're not even going to ask why? Why I think he's cheating."
A deep sense of shame washes over him as he confesses, "Every woman who's ever accused me of cheating was correct in her assumptions. A woman's intuition is a very powerful thing, Liz. If you think he is...he is."
He immediately regrets his honesty when her tears return. Shutting his mouth, but not his heart, he draws her closer, holds her once again while she cries.
****
Hours later, when sadness and tears are mercifully replaced by drunken giggling, he tucks her into bed in the guest bedroom.
"What is the deal with our lives?!" she bellows.
"I don’t have a fucking clue!” he roars back.
"But you're Jack Donaghy! You're supposed to know everything!"
An all-out pillow fight quickly ensues until they're both out of breath from laughing so hard. He falls back on the bed, she burrows under the covers, after smacking him one last time with her pillow. And the silence that's been hovering all evening settles back in.
Until he hears, "Hey, Jack?"
"Yes, Lemon."
Her voice but a whisper, "Do you think some people are just meant to be alone...forever?"
He rolls onto his side, pulls back the covers slightly to see her somber face. "It's gonna be okay, Liz. Really, it is."
"I know," she gulps, her voice catching in the back of her throat.
"Lemon, Lemon, Lemon," he purrs as he rises off the bed and crosses to her side. "You're going to make it through this, Lemon. Trust me." Smiling weakly, he leans down, kisses her forehead. "Get some sleep. Okay?"
She closes her eyes, squeezes his hand. "Okay."
END
Author: stamatina_rae
For: ham_napkin
Prompt: Jack/Liz, taxicab confessions
Rating: R (language)
Word Count: 890
Spoilers: Through "Anna Howard Shaw Day" (the existence of Avery)
Summary: Future based friendship fic, Liz confesses a secret to Jack
A/N: Day 3 of 5 day fic challenge. This one's kind of angst, and just friendship, but hopefully enjoyable none the less :) Thanks for reading!!
Feedback/comments always appreciated.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Don't sue.
"I think he's cheating on me."
Jack's head snaps to the left, fixates on her apathetic, blank face staring out the window of the cab, hoping to God he misheard her. "What?"
"Tom's cheating on me. With his secretary. How fucking cliché is that?"
Liz turns towards him, looks at him with those deeply intense, dark brown pools, now brimming with tears. He's shocked. Truly shocked. He thought Liz had finally met and married ‘the one.’ Tom was supposed to be it. The one to love her and cherish her for the rest of her life. The man to give her everything she ever wanted, and so profoundly deserved.
He sees the first tear roll down her cheek, glistening off the lights of the city as they speed northward up 8th Ave. He reaches across the seat to take her hand.
Before they reach the next stoplight, she's pressed firmly to his chest, head on his shoulder. He says the first thing that comes to mind. "I'm so sorry."
"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything."
"I'm sorry that he hurt you."
She starts to weep softly. They ride in near silence until pulling up to her building. One look at the handsome townhouse, purchased just before her wedding, and she's sobbing.
"I can't go in there, Jack. I can't be alone in there while he's out fucking her."
"Shh, shh. It's okay," he gently quiets her, reflexively cradling her in his arms. "It's okay, I'm here."
Her balled up fist clutches the lapel of his tuxedo. She can’t seem to stop the floodgate of tears. Seeing her in such pain produces a reciprocal, crushing pain in his chest.
"Change of plans, there's only going to be one stop," he tells the driver and gives him his own address.
****
"Should I open a bottle of wine?"
She drops her purse on the floor, right next to her kicked off heels, and collapses on his couch. "I just told you my husband of six months is schtooping somebody else, and then scared the shit out of our cab driver with my complete meltdown. What do you think?"
At least she's composed enough to deflect some of the pain with humor, he thinks to himself, per her usual routine. He knows her, though. Knows her better than he's ever known another living soul. And she's teetering on the edge of emotional collapse.
But he can’t seem to stifle the overabundant, strange silence between them. He wishes he knew what to say to her. How to comfort her better. Filling the pair of exquisite crystal wine glasses, Liz’s wedding gift to him, all he can think to say is, "I can recommend a very good divorce lawyer. The best in the city.”
“Yours or Avery’s?” she chuckles.
“She was way better than mine,” he laughs back.
“A real ball buster, huh?”
He exhales roughly and comically places the chilled bottle of white wine between his legs. "Oh, yeah," he confesses, his voice pure gravel.
She smiles into her glass, takes a healthy swig. "Well, thanks for the offer. It may be a bit premature, though."
"What do you mean?"
"What do you mean what I mean?"
"But Liz..." he stammers, aghast, "how can you possibly stay with him?"
"Well I'm not positive he's cheating. I think he his, but I don't know that for sure."
He's silent again. Finding himself in a rare state of sadness, hopelessness...furiousness. At the man who's won her heart and broken it into pieces, while he could do nothing to stop it.
Liz seems genuinely perplexed by his sudden lose for words. "You're not even going to ask why? Why I think he's cheating."
A deep sense of shame washes over him as he confesses, "Every woman who's ever accused me of cheating was correct in her assumptions. A woman's intuition is a very powerful thing, Liz. If you think he is...he is."
He immediately regrets his honesty when her tears return. Shutting his mouth, but not his heart, he draws her closer, holds her once again while she cries.
****
Hours later, when sadness and tears are mercifully replaced by drunken giggling, he tucks her into bed in the guest bedroom.
"What is the deal with our lives?!" she bellows.
"I don’t have a fucking clue!” he roars back.
"But you're Jack Donaghy! You're supposed to know everything!"
An all-out pillow fight quickly ensues until they're both out of breath from laughing so hard. He falls back on the bed, she burrows under the covers, after smacking him one last time with her pillow. And the silence that's been hovering all evening settles back in.
Until he hears, "Hey, Jack?"
"Yes, Lemon."
Her voice but a whisper, "Do you think some people are just meant to be alone...forever?"
He rolls onto his side, pulls back the covers slightly to see her somber face. "It's gonna be okay, Liz. Really, it is."
"I know," she gulps, her voice catching in the back of her throat.
"Lemon, Lemon, Lemon," he purrs as he rises off the bed and crosses to her side. "You're going to make it through this, Lemon. Trust me." Smiling weakly, he leans down, kisses her forehead. "Get some sleep. Okay?"
She closes her eyes, squeezes his hand. "Okay."
END