For Better Or Worse | PG | 30 Rock
Title: For Better or Worse
Prompt: cupcakes, marriage, and the flu
Challenge: 100 Fic Challenge (#28)
Fandom: Liz/Gretchen, 30 Rock
Requested by: dragonwine
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1325
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I promised something light and fun for my friend as a study break, and I certainly hope I delivered. Let me know what you think! Enjoy!
-
Liz stared at the ever-growing pile of tissues at the end of the bed, harboring a moment of guilt at knowing that she would not be the one to clean them up. The guilt was pushed aside, however, as she sneezed twice into the tissue in her hand. She wiped her nose, groaning at how raw it felt, and tossed the Kleenex in the direction of the pile. She had a sneaking suspicion that it landed somewhere on the floor.
She flopped back against the pillow and wished that the ceiling would stop spinning. She whined, her voice catching in her throat. She hated being sick more than anything in the world, even more than she hated going to Dunkin Donuts and discovering that they were out of donuts (seriously…what the what?). She regressed to a toddler when she was sick and even she didn’t want to be around herself.
Liz gazed longingly at the bottle of Nyquil on the nightstand and wished she could reach it. She cursed her arms for their lack of Stretch Armstrong ability and resigned herself to waiting for Gretchen to come back into their disease-ridden bedroom. Getting it for herself was obviously not an option. The bottle felt miles away. Liz succumbed to letting the flu get the better of her.
With a pout, Liz closed her eyes and wished she could sleep through the worst of her flu. She wished she was one of those people who managed just fine when they were sick without becoming even more moody and needy than they were on a regular basis. But that wasn’t Liz. Being sick was the worst thing ever and Liz felt like an epic loser for letting the flu win time and time again.
She felt her nose beginning to run again and reached for another tissue, this time plugging it in each nostril and leaving it here. She wheezed a breath through her open mouth and wondered if her lungs were simply going to give up.
At the moment when Liz was feeling most unattractive, Gretchen emerged from the living room carrying a glass of water and a plate. She set them both down on the nightstand before scooping up the pile of used tissues and throwing them away.
“Oh God…I’m so gross,” Liz mumbled, easing herself up onto her elbows. “I’m so sorry.”
Gretchen waved a dismissive hand and held the wastebasket out for Liz to deposit the tissue from her nose. “You’re sick, Liz.”
“I know I’m sick. I’m disgusting. You should run in the other direction before you get sick too.” Feeling as though her arms were turning to putty, she sank back down onto her pillow.
Gretchen ducked into the bathroom to wash her hands and, when she returned, she shook her head at her girlfriend. “What kind of partner would I be if I abandoned you when you were snotty and pathetic and sick with the flu?”
“A smart one.”
“Ah,” Gretchen said as she sat down on the bed. “I’ll keep that in mind if I get sick.”
“I’m a terrible person…it’s been a year…you should know-“ Liz paused to sneeze. “Um. I forgot what I was saying.”
“You’re a terrible person.”
“Yeah. That.”
Gretchen laughed and grabbed the bottle of Nyquil, filling the little measuring cup with the correct dose. “Here.”
Liz happily gulped down the disgusting green liquid and scrunched her red nose. “Come on, happy juice…work your magic…”
“Feeling any better than earlier?” She squeezed Liz’s thigh comfortingly.
Liz shook her head, dismayed to realize that it felt like it was filled with rocks. “Uh uh.”
Gretchen frowned. “You will. It won’t last forever.”
“Yes it wwwwwiiiiiiiilllllllll. I’m going to be sick forever and ever.”
“I’d better buy stock in Nyquil then, huh?”
Liz rubbed her eyes, hoping the itching sensation would quickly pass. As soon as it did, she looked at Gretchen and frowned. “You’re a saint, y’know.”
“Why’s that?” Gretchen reached forward and brushed Liz’s bangs off her sweaty forehead.
“For taking care of me.”
“Someone’s gotta do it.”
“No one ever has. That’s the thing…”
“Well, you’ve got me now. I’m a nurturer.”
Liz nodded. “Yup.” Despite her head spinning and her chest feeling as though it was being compressed in a vise, she felt a little better just having Gretchen close. Years of struggling through viruses on her own opened her eyes to how good she had it now. She scooted closer to Gretchen and kissed her knee. “Thanks for being here.”
Gretchen stroked her hair and smiled. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“Even though I’m virusey and gross and lame?”
“Mmhmm. For better or worse, you’re stuck with me, Liz.”
“You’re so good to me.”
“I know. I have something else for you if you’re interested?”
“Is it a samurai sword?” Liz asked, remembering a broken fragment of a dream.
Gretchen raised an eyebrow. “Not exactly.”
“Aww.” She sniffled. “What is it?”
Gretchen presented the little plate to Liz. Liz’s eyes widened at the sight of the cupcake.
“Is it my birthday?”
Gretchen laughed. “I wanted to make you feel better.”
With a grunt of effort, Liz hefted herself up against her pillow. “You already have…but this is pretty awesome…” She reached for the cupcake and inspected its perfect chocolate frosting. She licked her dry lips. “Did you make this?”
Gretchen nodded. “Lucky for me you can’t smell anything, or you would have crawled out of bed an hour ago.”
“She takes care of me when I’m a troll, she bakes me cupcakes…careful, lady, or I may just have to marry you.” She took a bite of the cupcake and, despite her vacationing taste buds, hummed in pleasure. “Or I would if I weren’t already betrothed to this cupcake.”
Gretchen shifted slightly closer. “You could marry me if you wanted…”
Liz swallowed her mouthful of delicious cupcake and nearly choked on the bite that followed. “Wait…what?”
“We could get married.”
Liz blinked at her. “Is this for real?”
Gretchen smiled and stroked her hand along Liz’s leg. “Sure. Why not? Marry me and my cupcakes.”
Liz’s head hurt too much to completely process what the other woman was saying. “Are you trying to bribe me into marrying you with cupcakes?”
“Why? Is it working?”
“Will you stop making me cupcakes if I don’t marry you?”
“No.”
Liz furrowed her brow in confusion. “Gretchen, are you for serious right now? Like seriously?” She finished off the cupcake and wiped the crumbs off her fingers, swaying slightly as another dizzy spell hit her. “I don’t think this is something we should be talking about right now.”
Gretchen forced a smile. “Sure. That’s fine, Liz.” She took the plate back and stood up. “Forget I asked.”
Liz wasn’t sure exactly how she had done it, but she knew that Gretchen was upset. She frowned. “Gretch, I’m afraid I will forget you asked.” Liz blinked drowsily at her and nestled back down into the bed. “Minus the part where you didn’t actually ask me anything.”
“It’s okay. Go to sleep.” Gretchen headed for the door.
Liz fought her sleepiness and leaned onto her elbow for support, feeling the need to detain her girlfriend swell powerfully within her. “Gretchen?”
“Hmm?”
“Will you ask me again when I’m feeling better? For real?”
Gretchen beamed. “Yes, I will.” She skipped back towards the bed and placed a quick kiss on Liz’s lips.
Liz turned her head and coughed. “You must really want to marry me,” she said.
“I do.”
Something tingled pleasantly in Liz’s chest as she closed her eyes and fell into a quick sleep. She resumed her dream about battling influenza (which had manifested itself into Tracy in a lime green body suit) with a samurai sword. Only this time, Liz was more powerful because of the gold ring on her finger. This time, for better or worse, Liz felt like a real winner.
---
Prompt: cupcakes, marriage, and the flu
Challenge: 100 Fic Challenge (#28)
Fandom: Liz/Gretchen, 30 Rock
Requested by: dragonwine
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1325
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I promised something light and fun for my friend as a study break, and I certainly hope I delivered. Let me know what you think! Enjoy!
-
Liz stared at the ever-growing pile of tissues at the end of the bed, harboring a moment of guilt at knowing that she would not be the one to clean them up. The guilt was pushed aside, however, as she sneezed twice into the tissue in her hand. She wiped her nose, groaning at how raw it felt, and tossed the Kleenex in the direction of the pile. She had a sneaking suspicion that it landed somewhere on the floor.
She flopped back against the pillow and wished that the ceiling would stop spinning. She whined, her voice catching in her throat. She hated being sick more than anything in the world, even more than she hated going to Dunkin Donuts and discovering that they were out of donuts (seriously…what the what?). She regressed to a toddler when she was sick and even she didn’t want to be around herself.
Liz gazed longingly at the bottle of Nyquil on the nightstand and wished she could reach it. She cursed her arms for their lack of Stretch Armstrong ability and resigned herself to waiting for Gretchen to come back into their disease-ridden bedroom. Getting it for herself was obviously not an option. The bottle felt miles away. Liz succumbed to letting the flu get the better of her.
With a pout, Liz closed her eyes and wished she could sleep through the worst of her flu. She wished she was one of those people who managed just fine when they were sick without becoming even more moody and needy than they were on a regular basis. But that wasn’t Liz. Being sick was the worst thing ever and Liz felt like an epic loser for letting the flu win time and time again.
She felt her nose beginning to run again and reached for another tissue, this time plugging it in each nostril and leaving it here. She wheezed a breath through her open mouth and wondered if her lungs were simply going to give up.
At the moment when Liz was feeling most unattractive, Gretchen emerged from the living room carrying a glass of water and a plate. She set them both down on the nightstand before scooping up the pile of used tissues and throwing them away.
“Oh God…I’m so gross,” Liz mumbled, easing herself up onto her elbows. “I’m so sorry.”
Gretchen waved a dismissive hand and held the wastebasket out for Liz to deposit the tissue from her nose. “You’re sick, Liz.”
“I know I’m sick. I’m disgusting. You should run in the other direction before you get sick too.” Feeling as though her arms were turning to putty, she sank back down onto her pillow.
Gretchen ducked into the bathroom to wash her hands and, when she returned, she shook her head at her girlfriend. “What kind of partner would I be if I abandoned you when you were snotty and pathetic and sick with the flu?”
“A smart one.”
“Ah,” Gretchen said as she sat down on the bed. “I’ll keep that in mind if I get sick.”
“I’m a terrible person…it’s been a year…you should know-“ Liz paused to sneeze. “Um. I forgot what I was saying.”
“You’re a terrible person.”
“Yeah. That.”
Gretchen laughed and grabbed the bottle of Nyquil, filling the little measuring cup with the correct dose. “Here.”
Liz happily gulped down the disgusting green liquid and scrunched her red nose. “Come on, happy juice…work your magic…”
“Feeling any better than earlier?” She squeezed Liz’s thigh comfortingly.
Liz shook her head, dismayed to realize that it felt like it was filled with rocks. “Uh uh.”
Gretchen frowned. “You will. It won’t last forever.”
“Yes it wwwwwiiiiiiiilllllllll. I’m going to be sick forever and ever.”
“I’d better buy stock in Nyquil then, huh?”
Liz rubbed her eyes, hoping the itching sensation would quickly pass. As soon as it did, she looked at Gretchen and frowned. “You’re a saint, y’know.”
“Why’s that?” Gretchen reached forward and brushed Liz’s bangs off her sweaty forehead.
“For taking care of me.”
“Someone’s gotta do it.”
“No one ever has. That’s the thing…”
“Well, you’ve got me now. I’m a nurturer.”
Liz nodded. “Yup.” Despite her head spinning and her chest feeling as though it was being compressed in a vise, she felt a little better just having Gretchen close. Years of struggling through viruses on her own opened her eyes to how good she had it now. She scooted closer to Gretchen and kissed her knee. “Thanks for being here.”
Gretchen stroked her hair and smiled. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“Even though I’m virusey and gross and lame?”
“Mmhmm. For better or worse, you’re stuck with me, Liz.”
“You’re so good to me.”
“I know. I have something else for you if you’re interested?”
“Is it a samurai sword?” Liz asked, remembering a broken fragment of a dream.
Gretchen raised an eyebrow. “Not exactly.”
“Aww.” She sniffled. “What is it?”
Gretchen presented the little plate to Liz. Liz’s eyes widened at the sight of the cupcake.
“Is it my birthday?”
Gretchen laughed. “I wanted to make you feel better.”
With a grunt of effort, Liz hefted herself up against her pillow. “You already have…but this is pretty awesome…” She reached for the cupcake and inspected its perfect chocolate frosting. She licked her dry lips. “Did you make this?”
Gretchen nodded. “Lucky for me you can’t smell anything, or you would have crawled out of bed an hour ago.”
“She takes care of me when I’m a troll, she bakes me cupcakes…careful, lady, or I may just have to marry you.” She took a bite of the cupcake and, despite her vacationing taste buds, hummed in pleasure. “Or I would if I weren’t already betrothed to this cupcake.”
Gretchen shifted slightly closer. “You could marry me if you wanted…”
Liz swallowed her mouthful of delicious cupcake and nearly choked on the bite that followed. “Wait…what?”
“We could get married.”
Liz blinked at her. “Is this for real?”
Gretchen smiled and stroked her hand along Liz’s leg. “Sure. Why not? Marry me and my cupcakes.”
Liz’s head hurt too much to completely process what the other woman was saying. “Are you trying to bribe me into marrying you with cupcakes?”
“Why? Is it working?”
“Will you stop making me cupcakes if I don’t marry you?”
“No.”
Liz furrowed her brow in confusion. “Gretchen, are you for serious right now? Like seriously?” She finished off the cupcake and wiped the crumbs off her fingers, swaying slightly as another dizzy spell hit her. “I don’t think this is something we should be talking about right now.”
Gretchen forced a smile. “Sure. That’s fine, Liz.” She took the plate back and stood up. “Forget I asked.”
Liz wasn’t sure exactly how she had done it, but she knew that Gretchen was upset. She frowned. “Gretch, I’m afraid I will forget you asked.” Liz blinked drowsily at her and nestled back down into the bed. “Minus the part where you didn’t actually ask me anything.”
“It’s okay. Go to sleep.” Gretchen headed for the door.
Liz fought her sleepiness and leaned onto her elbow for support, feeling the need to detain her girlfriend swell powerfully within her. “Gretchen?”
“Hmm?”
“Will you ask me again when I’m feeling better? For real?”
Gretchen beamed. “Yes, I will.” She skipped back towards the bed and placed a quick kiss on Liz’s lips.
Liz turned her head and coughed. “You must really want to marry me,” she said.
“I do.”
Something tingled pleasantly in Liz’s chest as she closed her eyes and fell into a quick sleep. She resumed her dream about battling influenza (which had manifested itself into Tracy in a lime green body suit) with a samurai sword. Only this time, Liz was more powerful because of the gold ring on her finger. This time, for better or worse, Liz felt like a real winner.
---