Title: Research and Debauchery
Author: Mindy
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Tina's
Spoilers: "Into the Crevasse"
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Summary: Jack asks about Liz's inspiration for her porno.
-x-x-x-
They are sharing a glass of excellent merlot on his terrace, as they often do of a Wednesday evening, when Jack says, all of a sudden:
"There is one thing about which I'm very curious."
Liz shivers slightly in the breeze. "What's that?"
He furrows his brow at the horizon, shakes his head. "How did you…write a porn?"
"It was based on my own life," she points out: "I should be able to write my own life, Jack."
"That's not the part I'm curious about," he replies, tone sly.
She takes a sip of wine. "What then?"
He pauses, turning to her with a part baffled, part intrigued expression: "Where on earth did you come up with all those positions??"
"Oh," she gives a sheepish little smile: "They were good, huh?"
"Very…inventive," he murmurs, eyebrows raised. "But…where would you--"
She shrugs dismissively. "Tracy ordered Pay-Per-View at my apartment. I paid for it, so I figured I might as well put it to use."
His brows raise further. "You…watched porn? You did?"
She tips her head to one side. "I watched six hours of porn to be exact."
"Six? Really?"
She casts a sideways glance at his incredulous expression. "It was research, Jack. Research."
"Uh huh…" He shuffles closer, musing lowly: "And what, may I ask, were you doing whilst watching six hours of, what I can assume knowing Tracy, was exceedingly erotic pornography?"
Liz blinks, bewildered. "What do you mean? I was taking notes."
"Notes?"
"Sure."
Jack opens his mouth, bobs his head a few times: "Oka-ay…" then presses on: "But…after you'd watched hours upon hours of men and women--"
"It wasn't all guy on girl, actually."
"--action," he finishes, taking a beat to absorb this offhandedly offered information. "What," he then asks: "did you do…afterwards?"
She shrugs, still perplexed. "I ate a block of cheese and went to bed."
"And then?"
She frowns, facing him. "Went to sleep, Jack. Jeez, what's with the twenty questions?"
Jack draws in a breath through his nose, eyeing her for a moment in consternation. "You know, I used to believe that this whole," he gestures up and down the length of her: "sex-scared nerd thing you have happening was just some adorable angle you were working, but there is actually something seriously wrong with you."
Liz pouts, offended now. "Why?"
"Lemon," he sighs impatiently: "Pornography serves a purpose. A simplistic, instinctive, hedonistic purpose. It is there to be enjoyed. By men and women alike."
She cuts a finger through the air. "Well, I was not enjoying myself."
"That's my point."
"What's your point?"
Jack licks his lips then lowers his voice with each huskily breathed word: "You should've…enjoyed…yourself."
Liz doesn't get it. "What?…" Until she does, making a face, everything screwing up all at once: "Oh, gross, Jack, ew! I don't do that."
"You don't do it? Ever?"
She shakes her head emphatically. "I am not having this conversation with you. It's too weird, and you'll just make me feel like a freak."
"You are a freak."
"Thanks."
"I'm sorry," he answers with an appalled chuckle: "but how could you possibly sit through that much grunting and sweating and--"
"Don't say it."
"--and not be even slightly--"
She cuts him off quickly. "I wasn't trying to--" She stops, holding one hand up in defence: "It was research, okay? And there is not much about…that stuff that I find sexy. If I was gonna…do that…I wouldn't do it…to that. Alright?"
Jack's eyes twinkle. "So you do do it sometimes?"
She narrows her eyes, shoves her wineglass into his free hand. "Thanks for the drink, Jack."
"Thirty-seven," he says as she is walking away.
She turns on the terrace's threshold. "What?"
"I counted," he tells her softly. "Including the orgy in the writer's room--"
"Tracy's idea."
"There were thirty-seven different positions in your porn film."
"So?"
"Only one was repeated though. Twice."
"So?"
His mouth curves up in both corners. "A favorite, Lemon? Is that what you find sexy? Is that what you…think about?"
Her mouth starts to drop open but she recovers swiftly. "Even if I did, I couldn't now, could I? After Tracy raping my life, at your instigation I might add, and this whole conversation, I won't be "enjoying myself" for quite some time."
"That is a shame," Jack replies, overly sincere. "I'm very sorry to hear it."
She rolls her eyes: "Goodnight, Jack," turning again to go.
"Fourteen," he says as she does.
She stops, lifts a brow at him. "What?"
"My favorite," he tells her, gaze steady on her face: "Of the thirty-seven. I liked number fourteen."
She purses her lips, nods once. "Good for you." Then heads for the door.
She is halfway across his office when he calls after her. "Perhaps you could think about that one next time you--"
She doesn't turn back: "Leaving now--!" And a moment later the door swings shut behind her.
Jack smirks, pouring the remainder of her drink into his glass and taking a long, luxurious sip. He shakes his head at the glittering city skyline, muttering to himself in disbelief: "Thirty-seven!?"
END.