Rating: K
Disclaimer: Tina's et al.
For: hamnapkin
Prompt: marriage of convenience
Spoilers: "Future Husband" etc.
Pairing: Jack/Liz, Liz/Wesley, Jack/Avery
Summary: Liz invites Jack to her wedding, or not...
A/N: Written during my season 4 depression, please excuse the angst...
She marched up to his desk, put a card down in front of him.
"What's this?"
"An invite."
Jack picked up the card, scanned it. "To your wedding."
"That's right."
He rose, the card still in his hand. "You're…getting married?"
Liz nodded. "That's why I had the invitations printed."
"And who, may I inquire," he asked, a little gleam in his eye, "are you going to marry?"
"Whom," she corrected, no gleam in hers. "And this isn't a joke."
"Very well," he conceded with a dip of his chin. He paused, eyes on her face. "Whom are we marrying, Lemon?"
She waved a hand at him, replying rather flippantly, "I dunno who you're planning to marry, but I'm marrying Wesley."
"Wesley?" Jack frowned. "Wesley who?"
She leant forward, tapping the card with her fingertips. "It's on the card, Jack. Again: why I had 'em printed."
"I expect so," he mused, glancing down at the invite, "if even your closest friends have no clue what your future husband's name might be."
Her jaw clenched. "I know it. That's all that matters."
Jack tilted his head, examining her as he headed out from behind his desk. "And when did all this happen?"
Liz shrugged, her gaze staunchly avoiding his. "I met him under anaesthesia. Found his number later in my phone."
"That's a very concise explanation."
"I thought you'd like it."
He was silent, waiting for more. "Is there anything more you'd like to tell me about this man?"
She took a breath, pretending to think, then shook her head. "Nope. That's about it. Oh, except that he needs a wife in order to stay in the country and do his job. I could tell you it was love at first sight, but I doubt you'd believe that. So-" she nodded at the card, turning to go, "we're gonna get hitched Saturday. Eleven o'clock. City Hall. No gifts necessary."
"Wait a second. Just-" Jack curled a hand about her elbow, "hold on there."
Liz stopped, looked down at his hand. She watched it slowly retract, dropping back to his side. Then she lifted her eyes to his face. "What?"
"Well-" he cleared his throat, "I have a few questions."
She faced him, squared her shoulders. "Okay."
His eyes skated over her face, seeking some insight but finding it completely closed to him. "Is this purely a marriage of convenience? Or do you actually have…feelings for this Wesley person?"
Liz instantly rolled her eyes. "Jeez, Jack, you still can't even say the word?"
"I just said it," he replied stiffly. "Feelings. Now answer my question."
Her eyes drifted aimlessly. "Everything's happened pretty fast."
"That's putting it mildly."
"I don't know how I feel about him. He's…" she gave another shrug, "he's okay, I guess."
"'Okay'?" he repeated. "Your future husband is…okay?"
She huffed, hands flapping in irritation. "What do you want me to say, Jack? That he's boring and stuffy and got on my nerves from the second he opened his boring, stuffy mouth?"
"Is he boring and stuffy? Does he-?"
"How about that's none of your beeswax?" she interjected, eyes narrowed.
Jack drew back at her sharper tone. Then went on, voice level and low, "I'd like to know a little about the man, if you'd indulge me."
"Like what?"
He took a breath. "He's from where exactly?"
"He's British."
"What part of Britain is he from?"
"The big ole island part."
"I see. He works out here though?"
"In Manhattan, somewhere."
"And what does he do, this new man in your life?"
"Something with money."
"That's very specific."
Liz scowled, growing exasperated again. "What do I care, Jack? He wears nice suits. He smells rich. He looks after his teeth."
"Ah." Jack nodded, "I wasn't aware those were the primary qualities you desired in a mate."
"He's not my mate," she shot back impulsively. "There's been no mating and probably never will be."
His head cocked. "I must be mistaking your meaning."
"No! We haven't done it, okay?"
"You…haven't?"
"He's not attracted to me that way. He's not attracted to me at all, actually. And I'm not attracted to him."
Jack shook his head in puzzlement. "Then why in heaven are you doing this?"
She met his gaze at last, her eyes dull and direct. "So that I can be married before I'm forty."
"That's it? That's your entire reason?"
"Yeah, that's my reason. People get married for way worse reasons every single day of the week."
"Not people like you."
"Which means what?"
Jack went silent, blue eyes intent. "You won't be happy."
Liz shook her head, offering up no pretense. "Probably not, no. But I'll have a ring on my finger. Proof that somebody wants me, even if it's not for the purposes of eternal love and happiness. And I might get some sperm outta the deal. If my uterus even knows what to do with it anymore. That's gotta be better than ending up a lonely old maid. Especially since I can't even eat hard cheeses anymore. So…" she gave a final nod, turning to the door, "I'm marrying Wesley on Saturday. Hope you can make it."
Jack watched her walking away before asking, "Er…May I bring Avery?"
Halfway across his office, Liz turned back. "Sorry?"
"On Saturday? May I bring Avery?"
"Absolutely not," she replied without hesitation.
He half-smiled. "Are you serious?"
She took a step back towards him, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Can you bring the latest in your never-ending line of random hot ladies, someone I've barely even met, and who you've been donking for, what, a week or something, to my sham wedding to a stuffy dude I can barely stand? Was that your question?"
"Yes."
She bobbed her head once. "I'm gonna stick with my original reply."
"Lemon," he murmured as she turned to go again, "I'm sensing some underlying hostility in your tone."
She tossed a look over her shoulder. "Well, if you're sensing it, Jack, it's probably cos it's there."
"Have I done something-?"
"No. No-" she stopped at the door, eyes dropping to the carpet and hands slicing the air with a definitive gesture. "You haven't done anything. Not a thing."
He inched towards her, attempting to read the expression on her lowered face. "Am I supposed to be saying something to stop you? Is that what's happening here? Is that why you're mad? Am I meant to be talking you out of the biggest mistake of your life?"
"I'm not mad," she muttered, then looked up at him. "And I don't think it is a mistake."
"You don't?"
"No."
"Well, for the record," he told her, keeping his tone as impartial as possible, "as your closest friend, and the person who's consistently told you the unadulterated truth, I must say I do think this is a mistake. One you will regret and soon."
"Well, that's a real shame," she answered, one brow arched, "Cos I was gonna ask you to give me away on the day."
Jack stalled, visibly taken aback. "Give you away? I'm not sure- Isn't that…a father's role?"
"Right," she nodded, her mouth rambling on to tell him, "But my Mom and Dad are in Florida right now and Saturday is the final matinee performance of the senior citizen's revival of Hair in which they have major roles. So they can't make it. And since you'll be the next oldest dude there-" she paused, letting the words bite, "I thought you'd like to do the honors."
Jack drew in a breath. "Very well," he agreed softly. "If it's what you want."
"Yeah, it's what I want," she retorted. "And Wesley thought it fitting. You know, because we're such awesome friends and all."
There was a short, horrible silence.
Jack broke it. "May I ask you one more thing?"
Liz blinked impassively. "More questions about the groom?"
"No. Just one about the bride."
She hesitated. "Shoot."
"You don't seem very happy."
She swallowed, but didn't shirk his gaze. "That's not a question."
"I just mean…" he took a step towards her, his tone gentle, careful, "if this was what you really wanted, wouldn't you feel a little happy about it?"
"Well…" she looked down at her hands, "you can't always get what you want."
He took another small step. "So the Rolling Stones were right?"
She smiled a little, one corner of her mouth lifting. Then she gave a small shrug, "And…maybe I'll learn to like him. You know? Maybe he'll grow to love me a little bit. It's…it's possible."
Jack moved closer, attempting to draw her gaze. "From what little I've just heard about this whole situation, I doubt that very much."
Liz was quiet. "Then don't come."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I'm saying maybe you shouldn't be there." She said the words then looked up, though her eyes didn't meet his for very long.
Jack scoffed slightly, brows raised. "You're…uninviting me to your wedding?"
"Yeah…" She breathed in and out, slow and measured. "I think I am," she said before walking toward him, taking the invitation from his hand then heading for the door.
Jack watched in disbelief, half convinced she was only kidding. "…Liz..."
"What?"
"I…" He blinked, took a step but stopped, then frowned, at a loss for words. "So…you don't want me to give you away?"
At the door, she half-turned, looking at him for a long moment, brown eyes inscrutable. Finally, she murmured, "I'm not yours to give, Jack." Then she walked away.
END.
N.B: For more Jack/Liz stories by me, please head to mindymakru dot livejournal dot com.