Liz Lemon was on a mission.

One late night at work too many, one failed relationship too many, and suddenly, she was ready to kick ass and take names later. She really didn't know where it came from, but she felt it was necessary to take action.

So, like any woman who was out to seek vengeance, she went out on her lunch break, bought an outfit that wasn't slutty, but certainly wasn't conservative either. She took the rest of the afternoon off to go get her hair done and went home to get ready. The writers could deal; they needed to grow a pair and learn how to function on their own. No more nice-guy/lady from Liz Lemon.

Liz put on makeup, spending a little longer than she would have ever done if she were just going to a taping of a show or on a date. She needed to look good. Pulling an eyeliner pencil across her upper eyelid, smudging the line she made under her eye, she wondered why she didn't wear eyeliner more often. She dragged the rich rose-colored lipstick across her thin lips, cursing the men who had once had their way with those lips.

Dabbing on that perfume that she had had for a few years, but never wore, she smirked at herself in the mirror. She was going to be brilliant at this. This was going to be the most liberating thing she had ever done, and no matter how nervous she was, as she was getting ready, she needed to go through with this. It was the only was she was going to be able to move on from this rut her life had fallen into.

She finished her ensemble with a pair of diamond earrings her mother had given her for her thirtieth birthday. With one last examination in the mirror, Liz was ready to go. She grabbed a coat, her purse, and left her apartment. She hailed a cab, and made her way back to the studio. As she glanced down at her phone as the cab ambled through the busy streets of New York City, she noted that it was six o-clock. Perfect timing.

********

Jack watched, through his partially-open office door, as Liz Lemon strutted purposefully into Jonathan's work area. Jonathan protested, but Liz held up a finger to hush the over-protective, squabbling assistant who should have been fired ages ago on the grounds that he was just too damn obnoxious. "Mr. Donaghy," Jonathan breathed as Liz pushed past him and threw the partially-open office door completely open. "Liz Lemon is here."

"That would be Ms. Elizabeth Lemon to you," Liz growled as she slammed the door in Jonathan's face.

Liz stood in the middle of Jack's office, her arms folded across her chest, one leg pointed out to the side while the other stood directly beneath the rest of her body because her left hip was jutted out to the side in a casual-yet-irritated stance. Her eyes were full of a certain sort of passion that Jack was intuitively aware of. Her lips had never seemed more appealing to Jack than they were at that moment. Everything about this Liz Lemon that stood before Jack Donaghy was starker, sharper, and almost deadly.

"Liz?"

"I'll be doing the talking. You got that?" Liz growled.

Jack nodded as he retreated to his desk chair behind the desk. Liz took a few steps forward and placed one hand on her hip while the other was left forgotten. "Jack Donaghy, it appears as though we have a problem."

"What would that be?" Jack asked.

"I'm doing the talking."

"Right," Jack murmured.

"Five years. Five long years, filled with one hell of a friendship, and one hell of a time with you and your antics. And who has been the one to bear the parade of women, the slew of your personal problems, and the never-ending cycle of Oh-I'm-Jack-Donaghy-the-womanizing-executive-who-has-it-all-but-can't-figure-out-how-to-get-more-of-what-makes-my-life-so-absolutely-damn-perfect? That's right. Me. This moi."

Liz took a few more steps closer and braced herself against the desk with the heels of her hands. Her cleavage was in Jack's line of sight. She had purposely done this so Jack would be tormented. She knew that this was his weakness, and she knew that it was working by Jack's fear that he was trying so hard not to let show.

"So many idiotic women and so many idiotic choices that you have made. And somehow, I'm the one constant. Why is that?"

Jack didn't answer. "Jack. I asked you a question."

"R-Right," he stammered. "I-I, trust… you. You're very trustworthy."

"Am I making widdle Jackie Donaghy nervous?" Liz crooned as if she were making a sarcastic retort to a baby.

"Liz, I don't understand what you're doing."

"Putting you in your place."

Liz pushed off from the desk and walked over to one of the chairs, where she seated herself on the arm. In one fluid motion, she crossed her legs and crossed her arms so that they were acting as a shelf for her breasts. She knew exactly what she was doing. She didn't know how she knew how to act like a woman out for revenge, but she was playing the part brilliantly. Jack looked like he was going to scurry out of the room at the first hint of being able to.

"Jack Donaghy… John Francis Donaghy… Mr. Hotshot Executive who can have any woman he wants… the silly little girls with daddy issues who are only out for the money and power that you can bring them. The man who is raising a daughter with a woman who he doesn't even know, let alone love. The man who falls in and out of love as if he's timing his relationships to coincide with when it's time to change the oil in his car. The man who believes that he's deep and profound, but is just as superficial and redundant as the rest of them. Honey, I'm not falling for the facade."

Jack watched Liz with a strange, rapt fascination. When had she gotten that dress, the deep blue dress with the scooped, scalloped neckline that revealed her cleavage? Did she mean to style her hair like that, with the highlighted, sleek strands all kept in place perfectly? And how on earth did she know about that perfume?

"I am not some grotesque, beastly demon that is incapable of love or any other emotion of the like. I am not incompetent, nor am I insufferable. I date men who will never be in my league because I just don't have time for anything better. I am capable of being your worst nightmare or the best damn thing that ever happened to you, Jack Donaghy. Don't underestimate the things I can do. I can have it all, and one of these days, you're going to wish that you had never met me."

She stood up from the arm of the chair. The hem of the dress fell to her knees, the loose fabric swinging along the legs that Jack scanned over as he examined Liz. He almost wished he had photographic memory at this moment, so he could remember Liz in this form for as long as possible. Though, as he thought more of it, he probably would remember Liz in this form for quite some time.

"Quit looking at me with that blank look, like you're a bumbling idiot who barely knows how to breathe. I know you're a little smarter than that," Liz growled.

"Liz, what is going on? I really don't understand why you're here, doing this."

For the first time during this encounter, Liz's face softened into a sad expression. "We could have had it all," she stated simply before she turned on her heel and walked out of the office, leaving Jack to process what had just happened.

********

Jack woke up in the dead of the night. He had had trouble falling asleep in the first place, so being awake at two in the morning was expected. Avery was sleeping next to him, snoring loudly because she had forgotten to put on a nose strip before bed. Jack rose from the bed gingerly and walked to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. He sipped from the glass and then walked to check on the baby, who was sleeping peacefully.

He then walked over to the window and stared out at the after-midnight world of New York City. If Liz Lemon could be that woman, that woman full of passion and anger because she was always getting caught up in all of the different facets of Jack's personal life without actually having any place in Jack's personal life, Jack wondered how Liz would take the news that he hadn't signed the divorce papers because he had reconsidered Liz's role in the many facets his personal life.