Title: Baby Daddy
Author: Mindy
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: Tina's
For: hamnapkin
Prompt: artificial insemination
Spoilers: nope
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Summary: She left the final decision to him.
-x-x-x-
Lemon left the final decision to him.
Perhaps this would be odd for two friends who were not so close. For a woman who did not rely on her best friend to guide her biggest decisions. Or for a man who had come to rely on being relied upon. But odd or not, co-dependant or not, Liz gave the dense folder to him that morning, saying that she felt too overwhelmed, too confused to make the call. That it made her stomach hurt and her hands shake to even look at the photos anymore.
She trusted him to make this decision. This life-altering, un-take-back-able decision. She would do whatever he recommended. She would be guided by his unbiased opinion.
Jack wasn't sure how unbiased he could be, but he agreed. And he had to admit she'd chosen very well. She'd narrowed it down from literally hundreds to just four. Four faces of four men accompanied by four detailed bios. Each of whom had an equal shot at being the father of Liz's child. All Jack could think though, as he nursed a scotch and thumbed back and forth between the four post-it-marked profiles, was that not one of them – not one – was good enough. Not one was even close to being good enough.
Or…right…enough.
Not for any specific reason. He couldn't fault her choices. They were practical and precise. They reflected her personality and all that she hoped for for her first and possibly only child. There was nothing he could pinpoint in any of the men that made them in any way unsuitable or undesirable. But, even so…the concept of their essence, their warm, alive, unfamiliar biology creeping up the tunnels of his best friend's anatomy made him queasy to say the least.
He didn't like to think of it in such explicit terms. But the reality assaulted him regardless. He couldn't escape it. And perhaps that was the real issue. He'd known of Liz's plans for some time. They'd spoken about them openly. But he'd never, not once, in literal terms, considered what artificial insemination was. What it would mean for her and the future of her child. A child that would forever be fatherless. Half unknown, half unclaimed, half unloved, half unsure. He couldn't help but think that not even all of Lemon's enthusiasm and love could make up for that.
He couldn't help also thinking that there might be a sidenote of defeat in her deciding to do this now, to do it alone. As if she'd given up entirely on the prospect of having a loving partner at her side. He'd never considered it before. But now he couldn't help thinking about his best friend attending her doctor's appointments alone, hearing that time was running out, of her injecting herself with syringes of hormones, reading baby books in bed by herself, and seeing that first ultrasound, that tiny heartbeat, that precious proof of life with no one there beside her.
Not to mention all the milestones that would follow once the baby was born. All the other things she would have to balance and provide and attend as a single parent. Because that's what she would be. A single, working mother. One that he knew without doubt would be loving and fun and absolutely committed. And absolutely alone. Probably for the remainder of her life. Neither of them was naive enough to think that single parenthood would increase either Lemon's prospects or her eagerness to join the dating pool. Presumably, she did not see this as an important issue. But Jack did.
In truth, these were all new thoughts to him. He'd never truly considered any of this. Not until faced with the task of choosing for her a different, hopefully better future. It was a mammoth, inconceivable responsibly. There would be so many important decisions that flowed from this one in the months and years to come. But this is where everything would start, this decision would be the very beginning. And he knows it has to be made now, when Lemon is ready, when she still has time, when she still has hope.
He knows she is awaiting his verdict. Patiently, though probably a little anxiously. When she dropped off the profiles, she didn't give him a deadline, but he knows she wants to get started as soon as possible. He knows her ticking biological clock is keeping her awake nights. It's all she thinks about, all she talks about. He knows this is what Lemon has decided to do. It's what she wants – perhaps needs – to be happy. And he promised – Jack genuinely wants – to be the one to help her. Not just now, but in the future.
Downing one more stiff drink, he closes the donor folder and straightens his tie before heading downstairs. The corridors of 30 Rock are unusually deserted, the writer's room messy but hushed. Liz is at her desk, only the lamp and her computer on, casting bleak light on her face. He knows she's not really working though because she isn't wearing her glasses. It makes it easy for him to see the tentative hope that flashes across her eyes when she looks up. She tries to hide it, tries to look casual but even in the dim light, she can't hide anything from him. She never could.
"Hey…" she says, voice soft and spent. She leans back in her chair: "So…"
Jack moves to stand in front of her desk, directly opposite her, hands at his sides. "So…" he echoes thoughtfully.
She pauses, bites her lip, attempting to stem a smile. "Do I have a baby daddy?"
Jack clears his throat, nods. "You do."
Her smile unleashes, relieved and lopsided. "You..." she draws in a breath: "made a decision?"
Jack nods again, silent a moment. "I did."
She looks at him. "So?"
He looks at her. "So."
She stands. Expectant, eager, excited. "Who is it?"
Jack knows what he is doing. He is absolutely certain of what he wants -- for her, and himself. So he doesn't hesitate before answering: "Me."
END.