Title: A Piece of Jack

Author: Mindy

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: not mine

Spoilers: "Dealbreakers Talk Show 001"

For: hamnapkin

Prompt: new job

Pairing: Jack/Liz always

Summary: The beginning of the end.

II.

Her office is a disaster. But for once, Liz has a good excuse. Jack surveys the chaos from the threshold, his eyes inspecting the cardboard boxes and screwed up balls of newspaper and the remnants of seven years of intensive and for the most part, successful work life.

"So…" he muses, alerting her to his presence: "Lemon no longer numbers among my employees."

Liz turns, her hair in a messy ponytail and her clothes covered in dust. "As of--" she glances at her wristwatch: "one hour and twenty-three minutes, that is correct. You will no longer be my boss."

He steps inside, over a pile of trash. "I will try to contain my staggering grief."

"You do that," she mutters with a small smile.

"I just wanted to come by and ah…" He picks up a Writer's Guild of America Award that rests atop a packed box on the couch, weighing it in his hand for a moment.

"Say goodbye?" Liz asks.

Jack looks up, putting down the award. "Wish you luck."

"Ah..." She nods a few times, studying him in the low light. Then she turns abruptly, starting to swathe all her little knick-knacks in bubble-wrap.

Jack shuffles about the room which feels larger now that's it's half empty, picking through the rubble. He spots her Slanket rolled up and stuffed into a canvas bag, a few more awards casually tossed into boxes with the framed print of her and Jenna's long ago two-woman play and the gender-blind The Crucible program he gave her one Christmas. On top of a pile of scripts and clippings, the fate of which seems to be in the balance, there is a handful of photographs that catches his eye.

The top one is of Liz and Jenna hugging at a party. Jenna's smile is wide and bright as she clutches her friend for the ca-meh-rah. Liz's smile is not so bright, her body language more shy. Jack flips over to the next photo, obviously from the same night in which Liz is being squashed on either side by Tracy and Jenna who seem to be simultaneously engaged in a good-natured argument.

Jack holds up the photo for Liz to see. "When was this?"

"It was that night," she replies, squinting at it: "That party."

"Very helpful," Jack comments.

"You know…the hundredth show," she reminds him, then continues wrapping.

"Of course," he murmurs, flicking through a few more photos of the writers in party hats and various states of undress. "I remember..."

"I can tell."

"Well, I didn't say I remembered it well," he says, flicking to the next image. In it, he is there, standing with a drink in hand and a loopy smile and a blonde at his side. The face looks vaguely familiar but her name escapes him. "Who's this?" he asks Liz, holding it up.

She shrugs, glancing at it in passing. "I dunno. Some lady you had the hots for, for like a week."

Jack humphs and keeps flicking through. The next photo is of him and Liz on the same night, bodies either side of them as they are crammed into a brown leather booth. The table in front of them is littered with tall glasses with colourful straws and umbrellas sticking out of them. Liz is cradling one such drink to her chest as she leans back against the leather, eyes cast up toward his face with a secretive, sardonic air. Jack, his arm stretched out over the back of the booth behind her, leans across her, obviously carrying on a very animated discussion with someone opposite.

When he wordlessly holds this one up for her, Liz just snorts and mutters: "God, you were drunk."

"Which explains why I don't remember," he points out.

Jack tucks this photo behind the others. The next one has them in the same position. But this time, Liz looks smug, like she's just uttered something slick and devastating under her breath. He is hunched over, head bowed and features screwed up in the first phase of astonished laughter. There is another after this, a third of the two of them, where they're both looking at each other but leaning away from each other, which only seems to exemplify how close they are sitting in the first two photos as well as the intimacy of their expressions. Liz is biting her straw, eyebrows half-raised and head tilted. He appears to be mirroring this look with a tiny, knowing smile. No one around them seems to be in on whatever joke they are sharing.

Jack studies this one for a moment, then shifts his gaze to Liz who is pulling black and white prints off the wall behind her desk. While her back is turned, he pockets the last image before moving over to help her. He reaches up over her head, bringing down the highest frame and laying it carefully with the others on her cleared desk.

"Hey…Jack?" Liz turns to him, dusting off her hands. She doesn't meet his eyes, her voice hesitant as she asks: "You're okay with everything, right? I mean…we're cool. Right?"

Jack pulls her chair out and drops down into it. "Why do you ask?"

She shoots him a blatantly suspicious look. "Look, I played with Business Jack once before, and…I'm not sure I want to do it again. So if you're planning on--"

"I don't plan on doing a thing," he assures her: "Except wish you luck and send you on your way." He looks up at her a moment, a pensive smile stretching his lips. "It's been a pleasure having you under me, Lemon. And come October, I will be the first one tuning in."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh brother, do not even mention October to me right now."

"You'll do fine," Jack says.

"Oh yeah?" she mutters: "Say it like you mean it."

He rises, stepping closer. "You'll be fine, Lemon. Trust me. You'll be more than fine."

She gives him a smile, a closed-lipped, fond-eyed, slightly dopey sort of a smile. "Thanks Jack. I mean it. For everything."

"Well…" he nods a few times, momentarily lost for words. "Well, how about dinner? On your last night? Just you and me?"

"I'd love to," she says, but then her eyes drift away from him, around the dark, cluttered office. "But I've gotta be out of here tonight. My replacement starts in the morning."

"Of course." He ducks his head, taking a step back. "Your replacement."

She shrugs a shoulder, offering tentatively: "But I was gonna order Chinese…Wanna stick around and help me out for awhile?"

Jack purses his lips together. "Only if you promise not to steal my egg rolls."

She tuts ruefully. "Can't promise that, Jack."

"Well," he says with a grim nod: "we'd better order extra then."

"I think it would be best," she agrees: "To avoid any unpleasantness."

Jack smirks and starts to roll up his sleeves. "So…where do you want me?"

TBC…