Jack/Liz - One-Shot
Title: What's The Difference Between a Hockey Mom and a Pit Bull?
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Rating: PG-13
Summary:
Liz tries not to be grossed out by the fact that Jack seems to be turned on by her resemblance to Sarah Palin.
“A woman trying to be president is like that spaghetti-eating cat,” he tells her. “It is always gratifying to see someone pushing past their restrictions.” Liz is pretty sure that it was a mistake making Jack watch The Soup.
“Gender isn’t a restriction, Jack,” she answers. She can’t believe he’s still supporting the woman after the disastrous Katie Couric interview, although halfway through the second question, he’d had his hand under her shirt. “And Sarah Palin isn’t trying to be president - she’s trying to be vice president. There’s a difference, although I’m not sure that she knows what it is.”
“She, like the rest of America’s population, knows that John McCain is not long for this world.” Jack seems to like the idea of a Liz Lemon doppelganger in the White House, because he’s started kissing her neck now. “And,” he adds, looking into her face, “gender is most certainly a restriction.”
“How is gender a restriction, but not believing in evolution isn’t?” Liz moves backwards away from Jack, and he seems not to get the hint that she’s not trying to turn him on, because he just moves closer to her, his hands untucking her shirt.
“Liz, until they can scientifically prove that humans came from apes, anyone can believe anything they wish. Dr. Spaceman says there’s at least as much chance that humans descended from a species of carrier pigeons.” He’s unbuttoning her jeans now, and she bats his hands away.
“Carrier pigeons? And you let him do your yearly physical?” she asks. “And have you ever been to a natural history museum? You’d be surprised at what science has to offer.” She hopes Jack doesn’t subscribe to the Sarah Palin view of the world, because then she might not be okay with the fact that he’s currently unhooking her bra.
“I’m surprised at you, with all your liberal, freedom-loving ideals, you’d think that you’d let people believe what they want to believe.” He’s gone back to giving special attention to her neck, and her hands have somehow started working on getting his shirt off.
“People can believe whatever they want, Jack, just not when they’re going to run the country to the ground with their backwards ideas. If we have kids, they’re going to need to learn that humans and dinosaurs never co-existed!” He’s breathing into her ear now, his hands finding the curves of her hips.
“You can home-school them,” he answers, his voice low. And she tries not to freak out about the fact that they kind of just talked about having a future together, and that their future involved kids. He doesn’t seem to notice that they did, because he’s got his hands on her boobs again, and his mouth is in her hair.
“At least I’ve been to more foreign countries than her,” she says after a moment’s pause, because she’s focused on taking his tie off, and untying knots was never her forte.
“Can you just say ‘Alaska’ for me?” he asks, ignoring her comment. He’s leaning over her, his voice even lower, his arousal evident.
“Ew, Jack, no. I’m not doing that.” She can’t believe that she’s sleeping with a guy who gets turned on by thick accents and subpar knowledge of American politics.
“How about Russia? Talk about Russia.” He’s helping her take off his belt now, throwing it over the back of the couch.
“Jack.” Her voice takes on a warning tone. “I’m not pretending to be Sarah Palin. And we’re not doing a kinky Republican roleplay. And if we are, that means tomorrow night, I get to be Hillary and you have to be Bill. Before the Monica years. Back when Hillary wore headbands.” She doesn’t really want to do that, but she thinks Jack will not want to do that even more than he does want her to pretend to be the governor of Alaska.
“Fine,” he grumbles half-heartedly. “But will you at least admit that she’s not completely terrible? One might say that her road to the White House could be analogous to your road to TGS?” Liz shakes her head, but she doesn’t want to argue with him now, because he’s got his tongue in her mouth, and she could kind of get on board with this whole political-talk foreplay that they’ve got going on. As long as he doesn’t yell Sarah Palin’s name during sex.
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Rating: PG-13
Summary:
Liz tries not to be grossed out by the fact that Jack seems to be turned on by her resemblance to Sarah Palin.
“A woman trying to be president is like that spaghetti-eating cat,” he tells her. “It is always gratifying to see someone pushing past their restrictions.” Liz is pretty sure that it was a mistake making Jack watch The Soup.
“Gender isn’t a restriction, Jack,” she answers. She can’t believe he’s still supporting the woman after the disastrous Katie Couric interview, although halfway through the second question, he’d had his hand under her shirt. “And Sarah Palin isn’t trying to be president - she’s trying to be vice president. There’s a difference, although I’m not sure that she knows what it is.”
“She, like the rest of America’s population, knows that John McCain is not long for this world.” Jack seems to like the idea of a Liz Lemon doppelganger in the White House, because he’s started kissing her neck now. “And,” he adds, looking into her face, “gender is most certainly a restriction.”
“How is gender a restriction, but not believing in evolution isn’t?” Liz moves backwards away from Jack, and he seems not to get the hint that she’s not trying to turn him on, because he just moves closer to her, his hands untucking her shirt.
“Liz, until they can scientifically prove that humans came from apes, anyone can believe anything they wish. Dr. Spaceman says there’s at least as much chance that humans descended from a species of carrier pigeons.” He’s unbuttoning her jeans now, and she bats his hands away.
“Carrier pigeons? And you let him do your yearly physical?” she asks. “And have you ever been to a natural history museum? You’d be surprised at what science has to offer.” She hopes Jack doesn’t subscribe to the Sarah Palin view of the world, because then she might not be okay with the fact that he’s currently unhooking her bra.
“I’m surprised at you, with all your liberal, freedom-loving ideals, you’d think that you’d let people believe what they want to believe.” He’s gone back to giving special attention to her neck, and her hands have somehow started working on getting his shirt off.
“People can believe whatever they want, Jack, just not when they’re going to run the country to the ground with their backwards ideas. If we have kids, they’re going to need to learn that humans and dinosaurs never co-existed!” He’s breathing into her ear now, his hands finding the curves of her hips.
“You can home-school them,” he answers, his voice low. And she tries not to freak out about the fact that they kind of just talked about having a future together, and that their future involved kids. He doesn’t seem to notice that they did, because he’s got his hands on her boobs again, and his mouth is in her hair.
“At least I’ve been to more foreign countries than her,” she says after a moment’s pause, because she’s focused on taking his tie off, and untying knots was never her forte.
“Can you just say ‘Alaska’ for me?” he asks, ignoring her comment. He’s leaning over her, his voice even lower, his arousal evident.
“Ew, Jack, no. I’m not doing that.” She can’t believe that she’s sleeping with a guy who gets turned on by thick accents and subpar knowledge of American politics.
“How about Russia? Talk about Russia.” He’s helping her take off his belt now, throwing it over the back of the couch.
“Jack.” Her voice takes on a warning tone. “I’m not pretending to be Sarah Palin. And we’re not doing a kinky Republican roleplay. And if we are, that means tomorrow night, I get to be Hillary and you have to be Bill. Before the Monica years. Back when Hillary wore headbands.” She doesn’t really want to do that, but she thinks Jack will not want to do that even more than he does want her to pretend to be the governor of Alaska.
“Fine,” he grumbles half-heartedly. “But will you at least admit that she’s not completely terrible? One might say that her road to the White House could be analogous to your road to TGS?” Liz shakes her head, but she doesn’t want to argue with him now, because he’s got his tongue in her mouth, and she could kind of get on board with this whole political-talk foreplay that they’ve got going on. As long as he doesn’t yell Sarah Palin’s name during sex.