Title: Diamond in the Rough
Author: Mindy
Rating: K+ language.
Disclaimer: Not mine
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Spoilers: "The Ones."
Summary: Missing scene. Nothing so beautiful should go unappreciated.
-x-x-x-
Jack tapped on the bedroom door. "May I come in?"
"No."
"No?"
Liz faced him, eyes flashing. "What're you hard of hearing, dummy? I said no!"
Jack stood where he was, on the threshold. "There's no need to yell."
"Hey!" she yelled from the other side of the room: "this is my apartment that you two complete crazies just barged into with your endless Spanish soap opera. If I wanna yell, I'm gonna yell, goddamn it."
"Alri-ight," he nodded: "Can you yell at me in the other room?"
"No," she shot back stubbornly: "I'm staying right here with my cheese and my Slanket."
Jack eyed the cheese board and the Slanket on her bed, then bowed his head, dropping his gaze to the floor. "Liz…Elisa and I called off our engagement. We're…not getting married."
"I know. I heard." She threw out a hand, waved it in the air: "Every word, Jack, that's my living room you were using as your stage."
"Well…I need you." He beckoned impatiently for her to come: "Will you come out here so I can talk to you about it?"
Liz huffed, stayed where she was. "No! I'm not doing this, Jack. I'm not gonna be your shoulder to cry on. Again. I'm tired, and I'm over it." She rolled her eyes, stretching out her words to impress her point: "I have been listening aaall day to you and Elisa go ooon and ooon -- and by the way, how exactly did I get caught in the middle of your messed-up lovelife?"
"If you were so upset," he asked sharply: "and so loath to listen, why didn't you say something earlier?"
"I was being sympathetic!" she snapped harshly.
"I see."
"Also!" she said with less force and more frown: "I didn't realize I was upset til right now."
"Lemon," he told her in a reasonable voice: "I'm the one that just got my heart broken here."
She turned away, beginning to pace. "Oh please," she scoffed sourly: "You'll be back to boinking twenty-year olds before the week is out."
Jack looked dumbfounded. "I beg to disagree. I loved Elisa. Deeply."
She rounded on him. "No, Jack, you didn't."
"I think I know my own feelings, Lemon," he remarked with a humourless chuckle.
"You know what…?" She stopped pacing and fixed him with a glare: "I'm only gonna say this once, so listen up. Because it's late and this is very important." She took a single step closer: "Are you listening?"
"I'm listening."
"Good," she nodded decisively. "Here it is…You. Are. An Idiot."
He cocked his head. "That's what you have to say to me?"
She nodded again, sticking her chin out: "Yep. That's it, Jack."
Jack opened his mouth to reply.
She went on in an angry rush: "No, you know what? That's not it. You wanna talk about your break-up? Fine – let's talk. Here's what I think--" She took another step forward, her voice rising and eyebrows arched: "I'm happy you broke up with Elisa. I'm relieved beyond belief that you finally broke up with her. And not just because I won't ever have to hear her name again. But because she's totally, fucking crazy, Jack. And she probably would've murdered you in your sleep as soon as you were on your honeymoon. Not that you wouldn't have had it coming. And not that I would hear about it because we probably couldn't have been friends anymore. Because God forbid you talk to any other woman-- oh no, wait, I forgot, I'm nothing but your bro."
"She meant that in a nice way," he pointed out weakly.
She shook her head vehemently: "No. She didn't. And it sucks being called that, by the way." She pointed again to her living room: "That…assassin wasn't here two minutes, Jack, before she'd insulted me, like, five times. Not that I'd expect you to notice."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I get enough of that crap at work," she muttered, eyes shooting daggers at him: "Especially from you. I don't need it flouncing through my door at all hours of the morning. And, another thing--" she went on, clearly rankled: "Where the hell does she get off calling me Lemon?"
Jack spread his hands. "That is your name."
"Lemon is my surname!"
"Calling you that is a term of affection," he tried to explain.
She jabbed a finger at him: "For you, maybe. For her, it's just presumptuous. And humiliating!"
"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way--"
"Speaking of which--" she rushed on before he could interject: "did she tell you she kissed me today? And sat in my chair! What the hell is that about?"
Jack's expression became incredulous. "She kissed you? Why?"
Liz eyes lit up with fury: "Augh!" a moment before she grabbed and hurled a block of cheese at him.
Jack stepped aside, watched it hit the door and land on the floor. "Are you more angry about her kissing you or sitting in your chair?"
"I'm more angry at you, to be frank, you gigantic--!"
"Yes, well, I think you've been more than frank with me," he replied stiffly: "And I have always admitted that Elisa possesses a very fiery temperament, it's part of her culture."
"Jack!" she cried without restraint: "She killed someone! To the point that they were dead. That's not a fiery temperament. That's not a bad day, you moron, that's a fucking felony! And you're defending her!"
"Of course I'm defending her," he insisted, eyes going soft: "I love her."
"You love her ass, Jack."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You love her ass," she persisted, dark eyes piercing and cynical: "And her hair and her legs and her boobs. You love her lips and her accent and her flittery, fluttery eyes."
"Your point being?" he replied, pulling himself up to his full height.
"Take it away, Jack, take aaall that away, and what've you got? How well do you actually know this woman, huh?" She spread her arms in a blatantly confrontational gesture: "Say she looks like me, Jack, say she's got one boob bigger than the other and they're not that big to begin with. Say she's got a butt she's gotta hide in bootcut jeans and A-line skirts. She's got one eye that's weird, and hair that won't do what she wants. She's got adult acne, Jack, and she won't wear high heels unless she has to. She's got freckly skin, and thin lips and she can't shut up if she tries. She's not gorgeous, Jack, she's just ordinary. She's the sort of woman who walks down the street and no one cranes their neck just to get a second look at her. Now –!" she paused momentarily, her ire settling a little: "What exactly about that woman do you absolutely adore? What is it about her that you can't live another day without? So much so that you would risk your life to be with her?"
Jack examined her a moment, face incredulous: "You're comparing yourself to Elisa?"
"I don't have to," she answered quietly: "You already did. In Cartier's."
He shook his head in confusion: "What're you talking about?"
"I'm not dumb, Jack."
"I never said you were."
She turned her back, walked back to the far side of the bed. "I know, alright? I know I'm not in Elisa's league. But I'm still supposed to be someone you care about."
"Of course you are."
She picked up the Slanket, folded it a few times over her arm then dropped it again. "You think I don't notice that crap you pull?" she asked suddenly, her brows knit: "You think I don't get when you're embarrassed to be seen with me? You think it feels nice when you insist how I could never be good enough for someone like you?"
Jack laughed nervously, words spilling out on his breath. "You're talking…about us?"
"No. I'm talking about me." Her gaze was unflinching on his, bold and wounded and shrewd. "I'm not Cartier-worthy, am I, Jack? I never could be Cartier-worthy. Right?"
He took a step forward, his tone contrite: "Lemon--"
"I asked you to stay where you were."
"No, you didn't. You yelled at me to not come in."
"Same thing," she mumbled, not looking at him. All the anger, all the venom, all the force had gone from her voice though. "In fact, I think I'd like you to leave."
Jack stood where he was. "I can't do that," he murmured after a moment.
Liz raised her face, looked over at him tiredly: "Jack, if you knew any damn thing about women then you would know that every one has a comfort ritual after they have a sucky day. Mine happens to be wine and cheese. And now -- a Slanket. I have a weakness for a good smoked cheddar and warm comfy clothes. It's a character flaw, sure, one that must be difficult to overlook – but then, at least I've never committed homicide."
"That," he told her: "was unnecessary."
She glared at him, still keeping her distance. "You're not the boss of me here. You and your stupid engagement managed to effectively blow most of my day. I'd prefer to be left alone now, so that you don't take down the rest of my night."
Jack hesitated for a long moment then gave a slight nod. "As you wish then." He turned to leave. Then stopped. "Lemon."
She sat on the bed, her back to him. "What?"
"I am sorry."
"Yeah," she replied dully. "Will you please leave now?"
Jack hesitated again. "I will. There is something I feel you should know, before I go."
"What?"
It took him another moment to answer. Finally, he said: "I would never cut you out of my life. No matter who I married."
She nodded her head at the carpet: "That's great, Jack."
"And," he added: "after the way he treated you, I called and complained about that sales assistant at Cartier."
"Really."
"And the other day," he continued, more warmth creeping into his tone: "when you were wearing that green dress you've had for years…?"
"Yeah?"
"You made me look twice," he admitted lowly. "Actually, I looked more than twice."
She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Is that it?"
Not entirely satisfied, Jack took a step closer: "No. I'm coming in. Don't throw cheese at me."
Her eyes tracked him as he came over to where she sat on the edge of the bed. He stopped in front of her and, when convinced that he wasn't going to be harmed in any way, he took a seat beside her.
"I fell in love for a short time, Lemon," he said after a long silence: "It tends to make me a little crazy. As you well know. But, three years ago," he paused, reaching over to pick up her hand: "I fell in like. With you. Thankfully, I don't see that ending any time soon." He turned her hand over pensively and released a sigh: "Elisa might be The One that got away. But, Lemon…you are The One that's always been there. The truth is, I can live without a lover. I didn't shrivel up and die when she disappeared for all that time. And I don't need a wife. I've gone without one for years." He smiled at her, squeezed her hand tight in his: "But now that I've got you…I don't think I could ever do without you." He leant a little closer, lightly bumped her shoulder with his: "You should know that."
Liz was silent. She looked down at her hand in his. Another moment passed. Then Jack reached around her to retrieve the blue Slanket and drew it about her shoulders like a cloak.
"Liz Lemon…" he said, his voice little more than a whisper: "You make my ordinary extraordinary. Every single day." His smile widened as he admitted: "In fact, if you are ordinary, then I don't have a clue what extraordinary could possibly be."
She looked up, her eyes swimming with a mixture of warmth, hope, doubt and affection. Her hand slipped out of the Slanket to cover his. He lifted it, didn't take his eyes off her face as he kissed it. Her lips twitched up into a small smile. Both his hands tugged the Slanket up under her chin and he held it there for a moment, gaze wandering over her face.
"Well," he said finally: "I'll see myself out." He rose and walked to the door. "See you tomorrow?" he asked from the threshold, hands in pockets.
Liz swivelled to look at him: "I'll see you tomorrow, Jack."
He nodded slowly, but didn't move. Not until she rose from the bed. He'd already reached her by the time she raised her arms and he didn't hesitate to hug her back. Her arms instantly wrapped tight about his shoulders, her face tucked into his neck as she enveloped him in Slanket. He pulled her closer, nearly off her feet, her smaller body curved into his and his face resting against her hair.
"Jack," she sniffed: "I'm sorry I –"
"Don't," he muttered. He drew back, hands on her waist, leant down and gave her another kiss, on the forehead. "Get some sleep."
Liz nodded: "Okay."
"And don't eat all that cheese," he added tenderly.
"Alright."
"And enjoy your Slanket."
Her mouth twisted up in one corner. "Bet you wish you had one now."
"I do," he mused, gaze drifting to where his hands held her inside the warm fleece.
She gave a slight, sad laugh. "Yeah, y'do..."
Jack smiled at her, nodding thoughtfully. And, as if remembering something suddenly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a little white box. "Lemon…" he opened the box to reveal the ring they'd picked out together: "I would like you to accept this."
Her eyes widened. The rest of her froze. "What're you--?"
"It's not a proposal," he murmured softly: "Just to be clear. Not that any man wouldn't be lucky--"
"No!" she gasped: "I can't take that, are you nuts?"
Jack regarded her calmly: "Haven't you called me enough names tonight?"
"You can't be serious," she shook her head, waving her hands in front of her: "That's Elisa's ring."
He gave a light shrug. "She only wore it a few hours. And she was going to exchange it anyway. She wanted something bigger. I'm not returning it now, that would be mortifying. If you don't take it," he said, capturing one of her hands: "it's only going to sit in a drawer and be forgotten. Nothing so beautiful should go unappreciated."
"But -- you should hold onto it," she suggested hopefully: "for the next lady you propose to."
"Not funny, Lemon," he replied, sliding the rock into place.
"I wasn't making a joke," she mumbled then got distracted by waving her hand at the light: "Oh my God, look how it sparkles..."
Jack smiled: "It fits perfectly. It's yours."
She let out a big breath, stammering: "Jack, I…I can't take this."
"You helped pick it out," he said simply: "I know you like it."
"It's lovely, Jack," she said, her voice quiet as she looked down at the diamond on the ring finger of her right hand: "It's a lovely gesture, an amazing gesture but--"
"Think of it as a token of my unwavering esteem," he offered, his head bowed over hers.
"That's some token," she muttered under her breath.
"Just--" he added dryly: "don't throw it down any air vents."
"I won't," she murmured dazedly: "I wouldn't…"
"And don't hock it to buy another humidifier."
"I'd get more than one with this baby."
"Lemon--"
"Relax. I'm kidding."
"So you accept?" he asked.
She looked up at him, blinking uncertainly: "I don't know, Jack…this is…way too much."
"No, it's not," he told her with complete conviction. "I want you to wear this ring, Lemon. Not all the time. But sometimes. And when you do, I want you to remember how you stood up for yourself tonight. I want you to remember that you are Elizabeth Lemon. The One, the Only. A diamond in the rough, but a diamond nonetheless."
She opened her mouth to say something then shut it. Then decided on: "I don't know what to say."
"That is a first."
"Ha ha."
He smiled warmly. "Just say 'thankyou'."
She gazed up at him in amazement, her voice soft and genuine: "Thankyou, Jack. I love it."
He gave a satisfied nod. "Goodnight then, Lemon." He caught and squeezed her fingers once before walking to the door. When he turned back, she was still standing in the middle of the room, the Slanket crumpled around her bare feet and a small smile on her lips as she held her right hand in her left, gazing at the ring in stunned silence.
"Goodnight…" she answered him finally, absently.
Jack smiled to himself and left.
END.