Rating: T, sexual concepts
Disclaimer: Tina's etc
Spoilers: not really.
Pairing: Jack/Liz, Jack/lotsa others…
Summary: Liz sees pretty people.
They stumble through his bedroom door, Jack ripping off his jacket, her shirt already undone and her hands inside his. Their lips break apart, mouths gasping for air. Jack's immediately attach to her jaw before slipping down her neck. He turns her as he descends hungrily, tucking her bottom against his hips and wrapping his hands around her naked waist. He whispers something sexy in her ear, which sends a shiver down her spine. Then he bites it, causing her to giggle in a way she wouldn't if she weren't a little too drunk. And that's when Liz opens her eyes and sees them.
All of them. Just sitting there. Watching. Jack's women. Or at least…the ones she knows about. And there's quite a few when they're all put together. On his bed. His massive, luxurious bed, which looks like it invites lustful acts into it every night of the week, like it revels in each bounce and squeak.
Liz shakes her head, her inebriated brain sloshing against the shell of her skull. She blinks slowly, but when she opens her eyes they are still there. In fact, a few more have appeared, some she must have forgotten about. She gives another giggle, one that sounds like she's just about to vomit or pass out or both. But she giggles because she knows they're not really there. She knows she's imagining things. Her brain is just messing with her. Trying to stop her from having sex with Jack. Which it totally should. This is a terrible, risky, bad idea. The worst idea ever and they both know it. And her brain is trying to tell her to stop. Either that or there was something truly weird in those bar snacks.
Obviously, Jack doesn't see his bevy of fine ladies because he continues to kiss her neck and murmur in her ear, switching to the other side as his hands creep up towards her boobs. Her breath speeds up but apart from this Liz is frozen, glued to the spot, eyes wide. On the bed, Claire laughs at her, sitting with one long, tanned leg slung over the other. She is cozied up to Avery who simply tosses her blonde hair and rolls her blue eyes. Claire remarks that Liz always liked her cast-offs. Avery adds that Jack is really only good for one night, anything more and he was just way too messy. Nancy interrupts their gossip, tutting in a maternal way before joining them on the bed in her red underwear. Meanwhile, C.C. is over the other side of the bed, talking amicably with Condi Rice. Pheobe is engaged in a conversation with Maureen Dowd and Liz Hurley both of whom have lost interest in her and Jack's carnal activities. Elisa is very obviously interested though, her dark eyes spitting daggers as she snarls that she knew their relationship was too weird not to one day turn sexual. She pulls out a knife that Nancy quickly confiscates, tutting again under her breath. There are a few socialites lolling about the place, a few models reclining against Jack's pillows. And in the middle of this tableau is Bianca, smiling knowingly, a wicked glimmer in her eye. Two of Jack's nameless conquests – both blonde and young and tight, one a Fox news presenter and the other presumably a lingerie model as that's all she's wearing – are giving Jack's ex-wife a manicure, tending to her like she's the revered queen of this gorgeous group of women.
Liz closes her eyes, sucking in a breath as Jack's hands move to the top of her jeans. "I– I don't think…I can do this."
"What…?" Jack's hands pause but his lips, his breath keeps caressing her neck. "What are you talking about?"
Opening her eyes again, Liz sees Bianca heading towards her, floating almost, the two blondes flanking her. "You," she murmurs in her weird, sexy accent, "could actually make Johnny happy." She holds up an elegant, ring-encrusted finger. "But-! He will never, ever allow it!" She starts to cackle with sadistic delight, as do some of the others. "Never!" she adds triumphantly, raising both arms and prompting Jack's women to all echo her.
Liz bolts from the room, out of Jack's arms, her head spinning and stomach turning over. She's at the door before he catches up with her. "I'm sorry," she tells him in a rush, putting her coat back on, re-buttoning her shirt, "I can't do this, it's a mistake. It's just- I can't..."
Jack peers at her flushed face. "Do you feel okay, Lemon? Are you going to vomit?"
"No. No, I'm fine," she says, not looking up at him, "I swear, I'm fine…"
He shakes his head in confusion. "What…what just happened? What happened between the car and here?"
"There's just- there's just too many of them," her mouth mutters without her permission, "There's too many, Jack."
"Too many what?"
"Too many women!"
Jack is silent, his mouth open, his feet shifting on the spot. "You're different," he offers eventually, his voice bewildered and sluggish. "Of course you're different, Lemon. You know that."
"How?" she demands, meeting his eyes. "Apart from the fact that you haven't slept with me, what makes me any different from C.C. or Nancy or Claire?"
He frowns at her a long time, runs a hand over his lined face. Then he answers, "Everything. Everything…makes you different."
She sighs, looking at her feet. "Well…that sounds great, Jack. But could you be a little more specific?"
His shoulders sag, hands lifting at his sides. "I…I don't know what you want me to say. I thought we were-"
"We were," she nods. "But we're not now." She steps back over to him, puts a hand on his face and kisses him. Because she wants to kiss him one last time and kissing him was so amazing and hot and…everything she wanted it to be and she may never get to do it again. Ever. So she makes it last, makes it count. And when she pulls back, she asks, her voice nearly a whisper, "Can we please, please just forget this happened?"
"Liz-"
"Please?" she insists.
He nods, brow furrowed deeply. "I'll call you a cab."
"No," she says, backing away, "it's fine. I'm good..." She boards the elevator, sending him a silent, small nod.
Jack nods in return - the phantoms of his women gathered around him - and watches the doors close over.
END.