Sweet Deal | PG13 | 30 Rock
Title: Sweet Deal
Prompt: Catherine Deneuve
Challenge: thoughtsicles
Fandom: Jack/Liz, 30 Rock
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 632
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I'm a total whore for Jack and Liz watching television together. Here's some more.
-
Liz Lemon never would have thought that dating Jack Donaghy would be such a sweet deal. She thought there'd be all this pressure to be more poised and classy and…less like herself. Sometimes she half-expects (or, more accurately, wholly expects) that he's secretly comparing her and her faults to his never-ending list of exes. She's kinda just waiting for him to come to his senses and dump her, even though it's been eight months and he seems really into staying with her.
It still surprises her that Jack likes her pretty much the way she is. He even lets her eat in bed.
In return, Jack gets control of the remote.
Tonight she's sitting cross-legged beside him with a bag of Doritos in her lap. He finally chooses a random channel and sets down the remote, shifting his body back against his pillow. Liz is only mildly interested in the movie that's playing (it's in French) and is much more absorbed in licking the cheese flavor off of each individual chip before stuffing the whole thing into her mouth.
"What're they saying?" Liz asks through a mouthful of chip. She squints at the screen but can't read the subtitles without her glasses.
He reaches for her glasses on the nightstand and holds them out to her. She wiggles cheese-coated fingers in front of him and grins when he unfolds the stems and slides them onto her face without even poking her in the eye.
"You don't understand any French?" he asks, mildly surprised.
She licks her index finger. "Ich spreche Deutsch. Duh."
"French is a beautiful language," he offers, glancing back at the television.
Liz follows his gaze while she licks the cheese off of her fingers. "Yowza. Who's the foxy blonde lady?"
"You don't know who this woman is?"
"Nope."
"That's Catherine Deneuve," Jack says, looking at her as though she must have been living under a rock. "She's French cinematic royalty. A goddess of modern times. She makes grown men weep with her beauty."
Liz rolls her eyes. "Down big fella." She wipes her newly-cleaned fingers on her shirt and notices the glassy look in his eye. "Did you do her or something?"
"We were involved for a short time, yes."
"What? Are you serious? I was totally kidding!"
"I wasn't." He notices her sulk. "I promised you I'd be honest about my previous relationships."
"Yea but…jeez, Jack. Have you seen this woman? Have you seen me?"
"If it makes you feel better, we didn't have much of a connection outside of the bedroom--"
She holds up a hand. "That's all I need to know, thanks."
"Lemon…"
She frowns and looks at the television again, feeling the remnants of her self esteem crushed under Catherine Deneuve's stiletto.
"I don't get it, Jack."
"You don't get what, exactly?"
"Look at her, Jack. She's perfect and I'm just…"
"You're you, Lemon. If I wanted anyone else, I'd be with them instead."
Even though Jack's words are blunt and have a tendency to sting, Liz appreciates his candor. She can't imagine him being this honest with anyone else, not even some blonde bombshell. She opens her mouth to speak.
"Yes, I'm sure." He hands her the remote. "You can choose something else."
"But I still have my chips out," Liz replies. Even though she's already cleaned off her fingers, she's fairly certain that her self esteem needs the warm, cheesy hug that only Doritos can provide.
"That's all right."
Liz smiles and leans in to kiss him.
So Jack's bedpost contains so many notches that it's not even recognizable anymore. So Jack has boffed a ton of hot women.
She's still the only woman he's ever let eat in his bed, and Liz knows that she's the one who's really got it made.
---
Prompt: Catherine Deneuve
Challenge: thoughtsicles
Fandom: Jack/Liz, 30 Rock
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 632
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I'm a total whore for Jack and Liz watching television together. Here's some more.
-
Liz Lemon never would have thought that dating Jack Donaghy would be such a sweet deal. She thought there'd be all this pressure to be more poised and classy and…less like herself. Sometimes she half-expects (or, more accurately, wholly expects) that he's secretly comparing her and her faults to his never-ending list of exes. She's kinda just waiting for him to come to his senses and dump her, even though it's been eight months and he seems really into staying with her.
It still surprises her that Jack likes her pretty much the way she is. He even lets her eat in bed.
In return, Jack gets control of the remote.
Tonight she's sitting cross-legged beside him with a bag of Doritos in her lap. He finally chooses a random channel and sets down the remote, shifting his body back against his pillow. Liz is only mildly interested in the movie that's playing (it's in French) and is much more absorbed in licking the cheese flavor off of each individual chip before stuffing the whole thing into her mouth.
"What're they saying?" Liz asks through a mouthful of chip. She squints at the screen but can't read the subtitles without her glasses.
He reaches for her glasses on the nightstand and holds them out to her. She wiggles cheese-coated fingers in front of him and grins when he unfolds the stems and slides them onto her face without even poking her in the eye.
"You don't understand any French?" he asks, mildly surprised.
She licks her index finger. "Ich spreche Deutsch. Duh."
"French is a beautiful language," he offers, glancing back at the television.
Liz follows his gaze while she licks the cheese off of her fingers. "Yowza. Who's the foxy blonde lady?"
"You don't know who this woman is?"
"Nope."
"That's Catherine Deneuve," Jack says, looking at her as though she must have been living under a rock. "She's French cinematic royalty. A goddess of modern times. She makes grown men weep with her beauty."
Liz rolls her eyes. "Down big fella." She wipes her newly-cleaned fingers on her shirt and notices the glassy look in his eye. "Did you do her or something?"
"We were involved for a short time, yes."
"What? Are you serious? I was totally kidding!"
"I wasn't." He notices her sulk. "I promised you I'd be honest about my previous relationships."
"Yea but…jeez, Jack. Have you seen this woman? Have you seen me?"
"If it makes you feel better, we didn't have much of a connection outside of the bedroom--"
She holds up a hand. "That's all I need to know, thanks."
"Lemon…"
She frowns and looks at the television again, feeling the remnants of her self esteem crushed under Catherine Deneuve's stiletto.
"I don't get it, Jack."
"You don't get what, exactly?"
"Look at her, Jack. She's perfect and I'm just…"
"You're you, Lemon. If I wanted anyone else, I'd be with them instead."
Even though Jack's words are blunt and have a tendency to sting, Liz appreciates his candor. She can't imagine him being this honest with anyone else, not even some blonde bombshell. She opens her mouth to speak.
"Yes, I'm sure." He hands her the remote. "You can choose something else."
"But I still have my chips out," Liz replies. Even though she's already cleaned off her fingers, she's fairly certain that her self esteem needs the warm, cheesy hug that only Doritos can provide.
"That's all right."
Liz smiles and leans in to kiss him.
So Jack's bedpost contains so many notches that it's not even recognizable anymore. So Jack has boffed a ton of hot women.
She's still the only woman he's ever let eat in his bed, and Liz knows that she's the one who's really got it made.
---