Title: The Chocolate To Your Chip
Prompt: An extremely late intended ham_napkin; She's like me in female form, perfect for each other,
Rating: PG
A/N: I really don't quite understand how every time I make food I get inspired to write a Jack/Liz fic. In this case, it was my friend who had burned her hand in an attempt to take the cookies out of the oven before a Halloween Party.
Jack opened the door to his apartment to find the whole place smelling like cookies. For one, he was shocked because his apartment never smelled like cookies. He never baked anything, and even if on the rare occasion that he was feeling in the cookie mood he usually went out to some place like Plunder and ordered an expensive desert, not some cheap pastry one finds in college eateries. The only clean part left of his kitchen were makeshift cooling racks on top of which sat about a dozen or so objects of said aroma. Next to them lay the used cookie sheets, crusted with baked-on dough. Next to that, a bottle of cooking spray, and next to that: two ripped packages of pre-made cookie dough. Curious, he attempted to read the dough-glazed packaging, eventually deciphering that said cookies were meant to be of the Snickerdoodle variety.
Suddenly, he heard a rather loud and sudden snore coming from his living room. Jack walked in to find a finished plate of Snickerdoodles, as they were called, next to a finished glass of milk, across from which lay a rather exhausted-looking Liz laying on his couch. She was still wearing what she had worn to work that day: her TGS hoodie with a pair of jeans a little too big for her. He glasses were askew, and there appeared to be a 'milk-mustache' thing going on, though thankfully not of the Tom Sellick variety. Her laptop was open on her lap, showing a word document (most likely a script) that she had been working on.
To the Jack Donaghy of merely a few months ago, this would have hardly been a very flattering scene. But like any human being, people can change immensely. Needless to say, what had happened in the few months prior to his and Avery's separation had opened his eyes a little bit. They hadn't ended chaotically; it wasn't some soap opera-inspired story where Avery's baby wasn't Jacks, or that she had some twin he never new about who was really the person he impregnated. They had, in fact, made arrangements to have dual-custody of their daughter, Jack getting to see her whenever they could make time to arrange it. It had been a mutual agreement that their relationship just wasn't working. It was too perfect; they were too similar. Though, what had really hammered the last nail in the coffin was Avery's aversion to his friendship with Liz. Though at first he had tried to oblige and distance himself from Liz, it wasn't something he could do so easily; she was, after all, his best friend.
Liz's story was a little different. From what he understood, though he had made significant breakthroughs in her personal life during his brief stint of 'reaganing' her and Carol were still having some problems. He hadn't asked her the full details of what the true problem had been. He felt that, sexual or not, those problems would reveal themselves in time. He only knew that she had burst into his office one day looking like she was almost at her breaking point, and flopped down on his couch with her hand covering her face, sitting there unsuccessfully trying to hide the tremor in her heavy breathing. He didn't need to use his business-poker psychoanalyst skills to determine what had just happened.
A little while after that, what he realized he wanted wasn't someone who was him (In Lemon's words) 'with lady parts', but a best friend who could make him happy, and in turn make her happy, but someone who could challenge him, make him a better man. (Liz had soon realized the same thing, at least that's what he could assume by her allowing him to kiss her one night late in his office and subsequently going back to his apartment) Not that he didn't think of himself as the superior man, but needless to say being with her had changed him, made him happier despite having his entire kitchen smell like cinnamon.
Jack gently moved her laptop from her lap to the coffee table, where she gently stirred before quietly mumbling about cupcakes and fell back asleep. He was almost hesitant to wake her, but soon realized that the couch was much less comfortable than his bed. And for perhaps the first time in his life meant that in an entirely non-sexual context. So, he gently nudged her awake, whispering her name.
"Lemon, wake up. You fell asleep."
Liz moaned grumpily, at first irritated that she had been woken up from her nap by a large figure who didn't resemble a cupcake, until she realized who 'it' was. Readjusting her glasses, she looked up, smiled and groggily greeted him.
"Hello," she half-yawned. Still unwilling to fully sit up, and eventually deciding to remain laying against the pillows. "I made cookies."
Jack smiled, pulling the ripped package of cookie dough she had left on the counter out of his pocket. "Yes, I can see you worked...very hard on them."
Liz pouted adorable, glaring up at him "Alright so I cheated, don't judge. I'm still learning." A pause, then, switching to a more excited mood (possibly because there was food involved) "You want one?"
"Perhaps later, Lemon. I'm more concerned with the fact that you're sleeping on the couch, which can't possibly be good for your-...What happened to your hand?" He had been in the process of getting her off the couch, but when he lifted her right hand up found a long brown mark across her palm. Liz winced as he touched it.
"Oh, I uhh...cooking scar."
Jack leaned down, gently kissing the sore spot, slowly working his way up her arm.
" I was trying to take the cookies out of the oven, when I realized that dishtowels don't exactly make the best oven mitts...Jack, what're you-"
Finally reaching her face, he pulled her into a light but loving kiss that was both a hello and a goodnight. Liz smiled against his lips. She wanted to pull him closer, wanted this to turn into something much more than a simple goodnight kiss. But,though it saddenened her to deny him something they both wanted, especially after a long day at work. She was so tired could already feel herself falling back asleep again.
They pulled apart, she pulled him in one last time for another, shorter kiss. She tried to let him know, she wanted him to know she still loved him. "Jack...not n-" He kissed her again, whispering against her lips, "I know."
He surprised her then by picking her up, bridal style, up off the couch. Liz squeaked in momentary surprise, but soon warmed up to the feeling as she snaked her arms around his neck and leaned against his chest, closing her eyes.
"You don't want to clean anything up...or anything?" Liz asked, her voice fading away as she drifted closer back to sleep.
"Lemon, I pay someone to do that." Jack answered softly. Liz answered with a barely audible comment about him having a lot of money.
Jack lay her on one side of his bed, taking off her glasses and placing them on the night stand. Then, he went to the bathroom to change and get the stench of work off of himself. Though this was not the way he would have preferred his clothes to be taken off, he knew that tomorrow was always a new day. Preferably, when Liz wasn't basically comatose from working non-stop the past couple of weeks. When he came back, Liz was passed out cold on his bed, still fully clothed and snoring softly. He turned out his desk light and pulled the covers over the two of them.
Jack spooned her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissed her lightly. It was then he realized she smelled like cinnamon. It could be Lemon finally having a dramatic effect on his personality, or the sense of peace he got from being this close to her, but for some reason he found that scent incredibly relaxing. Helping, it seemed, to release all of the stress he had accumulated over the course of that day almost instantaneously, allowing him to slowly drift off into the land of his dreams.