Title: The Same Only Different

Author: Mindy

Rating: M

Disclaimer: Characters are property of Tina Fey, NBC etc.

Pairing: Jack/Liz

Spoilers: "Black Tie".

Summary: Years later, Jack and Liz find themselves in the same moment.

A/N: To read the full (adult) version of this story you need to find me at Livejournal (mindymakru). Please message me with any queries.

-x-x-x-

Years later, they're still bickering over it:

"Yes, you were."

"No, I wasn't."

"You so were."

"I was not."

"Oh come on, Jack, that phoney move with the necklace? Please. What d'you think I was born yesterday?"

"I know you weren't, Lemon, I know exactly how old you are, and it was not phoney. That piece was hired -- at great cost, I might add. I simply wanted to ensure I got my deposit back."

"Sure."

"Do you have any idea how much money I put around your neck that night? If I'd had any clue then as to your propensity to hurl valuable jewels into tight spaces I might've thought twice about bestowing such a priceless piece on you."

"Hey. Nobody asked you to deck me out in jewels. I never demanded you find me a dress and pass me off as your girlfriend and escort me home. That was all you. If you recall, I was pretty reluctant about the entire evening."

"Except for the lobster tails, by my recollection."

"And I certainly didn't want you kissing me at the end of the night."

"I know."

"What?"

"That's why I didn't."

"What?"

"Doesn't mean I didn't want to."

"…Really."

"Liz, I was hardly born yesterday either. I have had enough experience with women to read signals. And I could tell you would reject me. Which you did. Rather prematurely, I thought."

"Well, can you blame me?"

"I do a little, yes."

"You had that look in your eye. Predatory."

"I wasn't the only one."

"Meaning?"

"You had a look too. It wasn't predatory, but it was there. Beseeching me."

"I've never beseeched in my life."

"Oh really?"

"Not a beseecher, Jack. Never have beseeched, never will beseech -- don't aspire to beseech. Not anyone, and especially not you."

"You did, without knowing it. I distinctly remember the look in those eyes."

"What eyes? I don't have eyes."

"You do. And they give you away. Every time. They did then, and they do now. Especially since I know you so much better now."

"You know nothing."

"I know this. You wanted me to kiss you that night--"

"Dream on--"

"Let me finish."

"Oka-ay, finish..."

"You wanted me to kiss you." Jack pauses before adding more pointedly, more smugly: "You just didn't want to want it."

She raises a sceptical brow at him. "I didn't want to want it?"

"That's right." He nods, then tucks a curl behind her ear: "Though Lord knows why."

"It woulda been weird," Liz replies as she kicks her feet back and forth in the air. "That's why."

His fingertips continue to skate up and down her arm. "If by weird, you mean spectacular--"

"I don't, no."

He lets out a sigh. "To be honest, it probably would've been a little bit of both."

"Probably," she replies, the movement of his belly causing her sprawled upper body to rise and fall also.

He sighs again, gaze cast up to the ceiling. "In retrospect, it probably is best we did not give in to temptation."

"I wasn't in the least tempted," she mutters under her breath: "For the record…"

Jack looks down at her from the pillow, hair mashed flat on one side. "It probably is best we waited."

She nods against his furry stomach. "This is all I'm saying."

-x-

Years later, it would play out in much the same way as that first highly controversial but undeniably memorable night. Except that no one would die. And no one would be sharked. And there weren't any lobster tails, which was highly disappointing for one of them.

Apart from that, it all went much the same. With some minor exceptions. For starters, by then, Liz was very comfortable accompanying Jack to parties. She was marginally more comfortable wearing couture and hired jewels to such affairs. She was also far less guarded around him than she had been initially. Jack, too, was more relaxed, more attentive and more complimentary. And on this occasion, there wasn't any other woman occupying his thoughts but Liz Lemon.

They danced, they laughed, they ate. They revelled in their firmly established rapport. And both made sure not to ask the other whether what they were doing could be classified as a date. Because they both knew.

It wasn't.

They'd known each other far too long to go out on an actual date. It was just unfeasible at this point. To start afresh. That did not mean, however, that Jack wouldn't be escorting her home. It didn't mean Liz didn't want him to. And it didn't mean there wouldn't be a moment, an opportunity. One which had passed before them more than just once.

Liz did not mind Jack following her into her apartment. This time, she expected it -- and made sure not to leave her spanks out for him to see. Also different from the night of Gerhardt's party, she was not wearing red. She was in black, still strapless, a floor-length gown, and the necklace Jack had selected for this occasion was far more her style than the first one had been. It was not bulky and showy -- it was simple, classic, delicate. It suited her better. So much so that when Jack -- in his finest tux, of course – leaned in, breath smelling of wine, he rather regretted having to remove it.

There was more than a hint of déjà vu when he lifted his hands towards her. They were both aware of it. As they stood suspended in a moment from their shared past. Neither had forgotten the infamous night they never kissed, that long ago missed possibility. Over the years, it had become such a source of latent curiosity and unsettling regret, the closer they grew and the less they acknowledged it. And now, without even meaning to, they found themselves back in the exact same positions as that night, five years before.

While both were older and wiser than those earlier incarnations of themselves, beyond that, very little had changed. Only what they meant to each other. Which was inestimably more. They were the same people, essentially, individually. But not as couple. And in many ways, that's what they'd become. Making the moment -- the view from this new, old place -- feel oddly, pointedly different.

Their banter ceased abruptly.

Jack watched a change come over Liz -- her face, her body. A charge leapt between them like wildfire. But unlike that first night, when he leaned closer, she did not halt him. As before, Jack treated the removal of her necklace like a most delicate operation. Also like the first time, it did not escape his notice how appealing the pale curve of shoulder looked, how the cadence of her cleavage incited his imagination. He could feel the underlying pull that had always, always existed whenever he was in a room with Liz. It grew almost unbearably potent when he was so close to her. Especially since in the ensuing years since he was last this close to her, this alone with her, she'd only grown more beautiful, more tempting. And more dear to him.

So he delayed removing the necklace. Let his fingers linger. He inched forward, releasing his breath. He let his nose sift through the bangs that'd escaped from her upswept hair-do earlier in the night as she was bobbing about the dance floor. And knowing – or at least, suspecting that this time, there would be no imminent objection – he placed a single, soft kiss on her hairline. Drawing another breath, he closed his eyes, drank her in, before laying another kiss a little lower, on her temple. His hands relaxed, fell lightly to her shoulders, the contact against bare skin making her gasp a little. And he had to agree -- the satisfaction of it was tremendous. Gasp-worthy.

She whispered his name as his palms slid up either side of her neck, thumbs tilting her chin up ever so slightly. There was nothing in her voice that could be construed as reluctance though or rejection or even doubt. This time, Liz was right there with him. They both knew this was going to happen tonight. Or perhaps they'd both just hoped. He couldn't believe the stunning relief and excitement he felt at finally making it back to this moment with her. Especially since this time, they'd get it right. Or at the very least, they'd do it differently.

A wave of affection passed over him – it struck him as a physical thing, right in his gut. A symptom of how genuinely he cared for this woman. This anomaly who'd become more than just his friend. Somehow, at some indeterminate time, she'd become his Everything. His absolute. His ultimate. His One. As the wave subsided -- but before it left entirely -- Jack leaned in to kiss Liz. Liz sucked in a breath. Then pressed back against his mouth, her lips fitting with his in a way that seemed utterly perfect and preordained.

Hands on her neck, he drew her closer, tugging more insistently at her lips with his. Her hands lifted, stalled in mid-air then settled tentatively on his forearms. He took it slow. There was no need to rush. No desire to rush. Nor did he wish to spook her with how fiercely he wanted her. Years of hidden longing was rising to the surface. The desire was there in her too, perceptible but fragile. He could see it in her eyes when he pulled back from that first kiss. Perhaps they would always hold secrets, those enigmatic eyes, but at least they held less than the last time they were here.

One secret they weren't hiding too well was that she wanted him to kiss her again. So he did. Again and again and again. Soon his fingers were unzipping the back of her dress and slipping inside to sample her skin. And soon after that, she was pulling on his jacket lapels, drawing him towards the bedroom, her lips never leaving his. Not until they reached the threshold.

She turned, pushed opened the door. Switched on the light. And stopped, leaning into the doorframe, her back to him, the curls of her hair bobbing with each sharp exhalation of breath.

Jack moved close, behind her, mouth against her ear. "You want this, right?"

She swallowed. "Yeah. You?"

"More than you'll ever know," he murmured low.

"Jack…is this a bad idea?" she asked in a near whisper.

"No," he answered definitively: "it's not."

"Oh…" She half-laughed at his undaunted clarity: "okay then."

He lowered his voice to a husky rasp, kissed her ear: "Turn around, Lemon. Turn around and I will show you how bad an idea it is not."

"I believe you already," she muttered, starting to turn all the same.

When her eyes met his, a zing ran through him. Because he could see everything she was feeling, everything she wasn't concealing. And it only made him want her harder. He backed her against the doorframe, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss and ripping off his jacket at the same time. Her arms flew round his neck as she arched up to meet him. The movement causing her to come out of the top of her unfastened dress. Jack pushed it down, leaving the material bunched at her waist.

She kissed him eagerly and he kissed her back just as eagerly, and as he did he went to work on his tie then buttons of his shirt. He was desperate to feel skin on skin. Once his shirt was open, he crushed her to him, kissed her for a moment before desiring more. He unclipped the strip of bra from round her and tossed it away, feeling her soft breasts press against him before even getting a look at them. She pressed into him, enjoying the feel of him against her, hands roving shyly over his shoulders.

He would've loved to pick her up right there, right then, feel her wrap her legs around him, feel her weight on him. But the restrictive gown prevented such a move. So he began bunching it up at one side, seeking a thigh to caress. Before he got her dress even halfway up though, Liz tugged him deeper into the room by his shirt, heading for the bed. He stopped her just shy of it, hands on her arms, his front to her back again. He pushed the dress the rest of the way down, eased her back against him as she stood in the black puddle.

One of her hands stretched back to curl about his head. His hands went one to her breast and one to her belly. Then Jack lowered his face, put his lips against her shoulder. Liz breathed. He placed a second kiss just to the right of the first, his hand gently cupping her mound. He moved to the other shoulder so that he could see his fingers on her flesh, see his thumb moving over her rapidly tightening nipple. He kissed her again, lips feather-soft on her shoulder, fingers thick and possessive on her breast.

Liz's chest expanded, pushing her responsive flesh into his warm palm. Her fingers dove into the hair at the nape of his neck, sending zings of pleasure down his spine. Her other hand scratched lightly at his forearm as he stole it southwards, fingers dipping inside her panties to find her slippery wet and ready for him.

-x-

It's much later when her dress is abandoned on the floor and his tux scattered in various locations about the room that they bicker about their first near-kiss. The night of Gerhardt's party. Who wanted to kiss who and why it didn't eventuate. It seems fairly redundant since it was so many years ago. And since they're both stark naked and limply entwined.

Jack's chest hair is matted with sweat and Liz's hair-do is half toppled. One of her legs is thrown over his, her hands are folded on his belly, chin on top of them as his fingertips run up and down one of her arms.

In the end, Jack concludes that: "It probably is best we waited."

Liz agrees with: "This is all I'm saying."

"Lemon, " he announces a moment later, drawing a new breath: "I want to thank you."

"What for?" she mutters, peering up at him: "Showing you you can enjoy sex with a woman my age?"

"That wasn't mere enjoyment you heard," he replies languidly. "Nor was that just sex, and you know it."

"I must admit…" she murmurs, letting out a sigh: "that was pretty spectacular. Even the weird bits."

Jack hums as he rolls her over. "Mm. Especially the weird bits."

She giggles as he shifts down beside her, onto his side. Her breasts jiggle with her laughter, the diamond teardrop still hanging between them. He rights it, so it's sitting in the centre of her chest, then traces the line of the chain with his fingers, laying random kisses either side of the jewel. For some reason, it seems particularly fitting, somehow significant that she's still wearing it. And when she reaches up behind her to take it off, he stops her hands.

"No," he says. "Leave it on."

Her eyelashes flick down then up. "Aren't you at all concerned about your deposit?"

"I don't intend to take my eyes off you," he tells her, gaze sweeping over her naked body: "So, no. Not in the least."

-x-

The morning after, they're still bickering over it. (Well, sort of):

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Lemon."

"What were you thinking? That night. When you gave me that look."

"The predatory one?"

"Yeah, that one."

"This has plagued your mind, hasn't it? Kept you awake nights?"

"It has not."

"Well, it was a long time ago now."

"I know."

"But I don't recall my thoughts being so very predatory. I assume I was thinking that you were unlike any woman I'd ever met. And I rather regretted our evening coming to an end."

"Oh…okay."

"I suppose I might also have speculated whether giving you a different answer to your question earlier in the evening might've changed anything. If our evening may not have been ending but just beginning."

"What question?"

"Whether or not we were on a date."

"Were we?"

"You still don't know?"

"I'm still not sure."

"Of course we were."

"We were?"

"Of course, it was a date."

"Oh."

"I wanted you to myself for a whole night."

"Why?"

"I liked you. I wanted you to like me."

"I did like you."

"I know," he grins: "You just didn't want to like me."

"Alright," she mutters: "Knock it off."

Jack's smile widens as he heads around the kitchen island towards her. "I knew I could win you over though."

"Win me over?"

"To liking liking me."

Dressed only in her robe, Liz swivels on her stool to face him. "I like you less when you're smug."

He places the plate of freshly-made omelettes on the counter behind her, leaning in close as he does. "When am I not smug?"

She tilts her head. "Hm. Good point."

"I think it's clear from last night…" he muses, lifting the apron over his head and throwing it aside: "…that you like me either way."

She watches as he parts her knees and moves between them. "Seems pretty clear that you like me too."

Jack smiles back, hands moving to the tie of her robe. "All the same," he murmurs: "I'm going to work on winning you over some more."

"Oh well…" Her arms coil round his neck as his mouth nears hers: "Knock yourself out."

END.