Title: What Comes Naturally
Author: Mindy
Rating: K+, sexual themes.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money.
Spoilers: nothing major.
Pairing: Jack/Liz forever
Summary: Follow-up to "Baby Daddy".
-x-x-x-
When she opens the door to see him holding a huge, greasy pizza box on top of which is balanced a tub of ice cream, a packet of M&Ms, a packet of cheese curls (not Sabor de Soledad because they don't want to mess with her cycle) and a large block of rapidly melting brie, Liz sniffs. Her eyes flit gratefully to the food before moving back to his face.
"I know I'm high on hormones right now -- and a little drunk," she admits: "but I think I love you."
Jack just smiles, handing her the brie as he steps over the threshold. Liz hugs the cheese to her chest, snatching the cheese curls too as they start to slide off the box. He leans down to kiss her forehead, closing the door behind him then silently following her to the couch.
The first time the artificial insemination process did not take, Liz took one day off work. She did not tell him directly, instead leaving a message on his voicemail. The second time they failed in their attempt to get her pregnant, it took six days for her to recover. She told him on the second day, in person. And she was at work each day after receiving the disheartening news but every time he saw her, her eyes were red, her shoulders slumped and the quick smile he was so familiar with was not so quick. This time – their third and possibly last try -- Jack did not wait to see whether it would be one day or six or more. Liz didn't hesitate to relay the verdict. And he came immediately. And her eyes are still a bit red. But at least, she is smiling.
"So…" he sighs as he eases himself down on her comfy couch. He pauses, eyes running over her face, scrubbed clean of any traces of make-up and ruddy with spent tears. "No luck, huh?"
Liz wags her head back and forth, swallowing before finding her voice. Even when she does, it wavers. "Nope. No luck. No…mini Lemon junior."
Jack nods, watching her open up the pizza box, eyes staunchly averted from his. In all the years he's known her, he's always thought there was something vaguely fragile about Liz Lemon. And yet something completely indestructible. Right now, she seems closer to crumbling than he's ever seen her. He's witnessed many of her weaker moments. He's been the one to encourage her out of alot of them. But, in all the years he's known her, he's never actually seen her cry. Never, not once. It's not something he particularly wishes to witness either. He'd like to prevent it if he can. If he can't though, he will be there to give her whatever support he can.
He reaches out, fingers smoothing over the curly hair that's shoved messily behind her ear. He doesn't mean to restrain it or tame it or even tidy it. It's just all he can think to do, as inadequate as it may seem. And the gesture is as much to comfort him as it is to comfort her. So the backs of his fingers keep stroking over the same place, soft and slow, as Liz takes a thorough inventory of the pizza toppings. She doesn't ignore him or pull away or flinch. She doesn't even look uncomfortable. She just accepts his caress as if he did it everyday. As if she doesn't mind it one bit.
"You know…I know I wanted this--" she says all of sudden, as though his presence, his touch has broken down some invisible barrier: "I know I asked you to do this--"
"You didn't," he interrupts gently.
She blinks, glances across at him, but the glance halts and lingers. "What do you mean?"
"I offered," Jack reminds her. "I wanted…this."
"Well…" Her eyes drop away again: "I think I'm starting to forget why…I wanted it."
"It doesn't matter why," he tells her, hand moving to her back, lying there flat and firm. "Just that you wanted it."
Liz takes in a breath, her back expanding under his touch. She shakes her head, muttering: "I'm not sure I can do it again, Jack. It's too hard--" She breaks off, stuffs a cheese curl in her mouth then mumbles as she chews: "I can't do it, get my hopes up. I can't go back to that clinic and--!" She stops, blinking back tears, releasing her breath. She leans forward, reaching for a slice of pizza. But she drops it before taking a single bite: "I'm not even hungry!" she moans tragically, slumping back into the couch cushions.
Jack leans back beside her, shoulder brushing hers. "I can go with you," he offers to which Liz, predictably, shakes her head.
She is still trying to do this alone. She still thinks she has to. She hasn't fully realized yet that this is his hope too. His baby. His future. He wants this. He wanted it before he even knew he wanted it. And he wants to share in everything. Even her grief. He might not have fully understood that going in. He certainly didn't realize until their first unsuccessful attempt just how much hope, how much excitement he'd pinned on the outcome. And he didn't realize how disappointed he could be until after the second attempt then failed.
He'd thought, naively he knows now, that this would be a simple process. Biological, but not emotional. He wasn't at all prepared for that aspect. For how consuming it would become. For how close it would bring them, how much it would alter them. Or for just how far he would go to make it happen, to make her happy.
Jack casts a sidelong glance at her. "Is it the money?" he asks carefully, receiving another tight shake of the head. He had to ask. He wouldn't want something so trivial to prevent either of them having a child.
He'd offered to finance this last attempt, knowing that the financial burden was an extra stress on Lemon. He even offered to be there when she was implanted. But she refused both offers. To her, this was still her baby. Jack had always, always thought of it as their baby. And he wasn't sure how to get her to grasp this.
"It's not that," she murmurs, head bowed. "I dunno, Jack. Maybe it's us." She waves a hand between their side-by-side bodies: "Maybe we're not a good match. Maybe this is nature's way of telling us…we just don't add up."
Jack sits up taller, shakes his head. "I don't believe that. The doctors said everything was in order."
She shrugs, defeated. "I know..."
"So--" He turns toward her on the couch, injecting more verve into his voice, more certainty: "if you don't want to go back to the clinic, then we can just do this on our own. We cut out the middleman, Lemon. When you're ready. We just…do it the old-fashioned way."
Now she looks at him. Really looks at him. Stares at him, one tear suspended on her lower eyelash as though forgotten and one eyebrow half-raised in shock. She looks like she's trying to decipher his meaning. To him it's pretty clear. What he means, and what needs to be done. This is a simple process. Precise, but natural. And they are going about it the wrong way. They are taking the difficult route, making it way too complicated. It's not complicated. It should be easy. This should be natural and obvious and, well...pleasurable. They are taking all the joy out of it, all the spontaneity. Not to mention all the fun.
He and Lemon could have some fun with this. And he wants his child to know that he or she was conceived in joy, with ease, between two people who sort of love each other. Because they do. Sort of. He loves her. In a way. And she returns his feelings. In another way. And he wants her to stop trying so hard. He wants her to stop waiting until her office door is closed to cry. He wants her to stop going to a clinic that creeps her out. He wants her to finally buy her baby books and baby clothes and throw that damn baby shower. He wants her to be a mother. The wonderful mother they both know she can be. He wants her to enjoy the process that can make her into a mother. He wants her to let go and just let it happen. He wants her to stop hoping and start living. He wants that for both of them.
And in this moment -- it's definitely not isolated moment either, the feeling has arisen before – Jack wants her. He wants Liz. And for once, it doesn't seem wrong or complicated or weird or inconvenient. It seems entirely convenient, perfectly simple and the opposite of weird. Which must be good. Wanting Liz feels good. Especially when he moves in and kisses her, sudden but soft, lips parted just a little.
"Jack. You've been so great--" she starts to say when he pulls away, one hand on his chest.
He doesn't halt or hesitate to put his mouth back on hers, lips plucking gently at hers, discouraging her words, her objections, encouraging her surrender. Which happens fairly easily, rather swiftly, with one hand lifting to cup his head as she kisses him back. It's a little strange at first. But it feels so good. And then it's not strange at all. It's hot and hasty and full of eyes-closed madness. It just feels…right…somehow.
They are both so ready, so there, so already connected, so already committed that everything escalates quickly. They are kissing heatedly, eagerly, while hands take over, finding a will of their own, pressing into each other's bodies, slipping under each other's clothes, seeking extra sensation, extra contact, extra proximity. Seeking skin and the hot pulse of blood beneath it. Seeking what comes naturally. What should, perhaps, have come first.
"Jack," says Liz, voice gaspy as they loosen their restrictive clothing and get more comfortable: "are we really doing this?"
"Oh yeah," he mutters, settling over her, kissing her once and feeling her legs part beneath him, her warmth ready to receive him. "We're really doing this."
She sucks in a breath, blinking at him lightly kissing her chest. "Okay, yeah," she mutters when his gaze meets hers: "We so are."
-x-
Four weeks (and lots and lots of sex) later, Liz enters his office one morning unannounced and unexpected. She shuts the door behind her and puts her back against it, doing a terrible job of suppressing an infectious smile. Her eyes twinkle as he turns to look at her.
Jack gives her a once-over with curious eyes. "Lemon?"
She rushes at him, arms and legs flailing inelegantly as she throws herself at him. Jack catches her with a surprised 'ooff', hoisting her into a better position as her legs encircle his body. She kisses him hard then buries her face in the shoulder of his jacket. Before she does though, he catches a glimpse of the moisture in her eyes and the pink in her cheeks.
After a moment, voice muffled, she mumbles: "I hope he has your hair."
Jack hugs her tight. Tighter than ever. And he has to clear a lump from his throat before replying: "I hope she has your sense-of-humor."
Liz pulls back, giving a shrug. "Or vice versa."
He shakes his head, smiling smugly at her. "Not a good match…" he mutters under his breath.
She screws up her nose but can't stop beaming. "So I was wrong. We're gonna have an awesome kid, with great hair or a mild gift for light entertainment--"
"Or both," he interjects.
"Or both!" she agrees cheerfully, then slaps his shoulder in congratulations. "So you were right, you did it. I hope you're happy. I'm gonna get fat and cranky all because of you. And I can't wait."
"I'm very happy," Jack nods, eyes roaming down to her abdomen. They return to her face though when he hears her tone suddenly shift, lower.
"Thankyou Jack," she says softly, eyes glowing, perhaps revealing for the very first time what this has really meant to her. "And, I know I've said this alot recently but, I love you."
"It was my pleasure," he murmurs, eyes on hers. "And I love you too. It bears repeating." He leans in to kiss her but Liz stops him, pulling back a bit.
"Hey," she mutters, as if the idea just occurred to her: "We're not going to stop having all the sex now, right?"
"Er. No--" Jack answers quickly, somewhat aghast. "Why on earth would you think that?"
"I thought maybe we were…working towards a goal," she replies, eyeing him impishly. "But I'm still going to need you. I have needs, you know. Needs. And they're only gonna get…bigger. Same as me."
"Well, I'm glad to hear it. Especially since those needs involve me." He leans in to kiss her again but this time, he pulls back to add: "Oh-- and just so you know, I'm probably going to propose to you very soon."
Her eyebrows leap in surprise, her smile returning to full-strength. "Really? When?"
Jack chuckles: "Oh no! That's all the warning you get." Then seals their happiness with a kiss.
-x-
That night, Liz is curled up in her bed, reading her first baby book when Jack turns out the bathroom light and slips into bed beside her. He sent Jonathan that very day to the closest book store to get the top ten baby books requested by expectant mothers. Since they won't be spreading the joyous news for some time yet, he told his nosy assistant that it was research for a new reality television show. The pile of books now sits on her bedside table, waiting to be devoured by avid eyes.
Liz stops reading as he spoons her and slides a hand over her belly, cupping the slight roundness that for the moment is all Lemon, but soon won't be. He kisses her shoulder and murmurs: "You're pregnant."
She glances over her shoulder at him then down towards where her hand moves to cover his beneath the warm covers. She smiles, answering: "We are."
END.