Title: A Piece of Jack
Author: Mindy
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: See part one for rest
III.
He's there for her. No other reason.
Jack receives dozens of invitations to similar such industry dos in a week. But not all come with a hand-written note from Liz Lemon. This one did. Which is why he's there. To see her, to support her, to congratulate her. Not that he didn't predict she would be a success post-TGS, because he did. He just didn't predict how big a smash Liz Lemon would become. That her name would be on the tongues of all of New York and many beyond. That she would score a second and third cover with Time Out magazine and that, during awards season, press would be calling his office, asking for quotes about her.
It's not that Jack hasn't seen her since that last night at 30 Rock either. When they devoured noodles in the wee small hours of the morning with their feet propped up on her emptied desk and their laughter bouncing off the bare walls. Because he has. He's seen her a few times. And every time, she's been exactly as he remembered her. Maybe even better, brighter, more of what she already was. Success has brought out the best in her, as he always suspected it might. They still talk on the phone too, though not as regularly. The calls may last a matter of seconds and cover absolutely nothing or they may last hours and cover absolutely everything.
But even so, Jack misses her. In a way that is partly inexplicable. Almost like losing an appendage he didn't know he possessed. Or misplacing a significant chunk of his memory. Or his guiding conscience. Like being separated from an intrinsic piece of himself. A piece he wasn't aware he'd given away until it was all of a sudden gone.
The last time he saw Liz, he literally bumped right into her on a crowded New York corner. And he loved seeing the way her eyes lit-up to their absolute brightest at the sight of him. Loved hearing her voice gasp his name in surprise and delight. Loved the way she didn't – couldn't -- stop herself from flinging her arms around him, however fleeting and awkward the gesture was. They'd both been on their way to meetings at opposite ends of the city and they'd exchanged a few cursory catch-ups, stuttering over each other and promising to meet for dinner soon. But they never did find the time.
Which is why he's here. One of the reasons. And why Jack barely registers the other bodies inhabiting the crowded, glittering room. The women in sequins. The waiters with trays. The power couples preening. They are all mere obstacles. His eyes are peeled, ears primed for the slightest clue as to her whereabouts. He hears her before her sees her, his ears picking up on her distinctive laugh. And when he turns, his eyes identify her figure immediately, the fall of her hair, the slump of her shoulders, the curve of her bottom, encased in a clingy, deep red.
His lips twitch with an involuntary smile as he sidles closer, slipping easily through the chattering throng. Catching her mid-sentence, Jack leans in to drawl a low: "Lemon?"
He sees her react to his voice in her ear, his presence behind her, a tiny shudder running down her spine. And the same unrestrained joy he remembers from their last encounter is in her eyes when she turns and meets his gaze. Her arms lift as if to hug him but this time she restrains herself, instead settling for slugging his arm affectionately, though again, somewhat awkwardly.
"Jack!" she beams. "You came!"
Jack beams back, rocking on his heels. "Of course. I wouldn't miss this." He clears his throat, becoming aware of the curious looks on the faces surrounding them. "I mentored this woman for years," he tells them with a winning grin: "I made her who she is today."
Liz just smiles and grabs his arm, pulling him into the circle and introducing him to her new team. He shakes hands with a petite woman with tight red curls who remarks slyly that she's heard alot about him. Jack smiles, telling her it's all true. He is introduced to a blond giant who instantly launches into a pitch for a new reality show he swears would be perfect for NBC. Jack nods politely and shakes his hand.
Lastly, Liz introduces him to a lanky, sour looking fellow called Brendan whose beady eyes narrow at the hand Jack holds out before limply shaking it. His eyes narrow further at the way Liz is hanging onto his arm, her body leaning into his. Moving closer to her, Brendan whispers in a confidential voice that they have important people to meet and must circulate. Jack smirks silently, seeing no need to point out to the other 'man' how important he is -- either in this room, or to Liz Lemon.
He merely darts him a lethal look and leans into Liz's ear again. "Ah. Would you mind if we--?"
"I wouldn't, no," she answers with a tight shake of her head.
Liz's team all cock their heads in simultaneous, undisguised interest as the two of them start to slowly back away.
Jack takes her elbow. "We have a few things--"
"We do," Liz nods importantly. "To discuss."
"Important things," he says.
"Business things," she adds.
"It'll only take--" he looks at her.
She shrugs. "A minute."
"So we'll just--"
"Do that--"
"And be back--"
"In a minute."
"Or so."
"Yeah. So..."
She nods a few times under her friends' scrutiny. And her team continues to stare, eyes flicking back and forth between their faces. Jack shuffles on the spot. Then, as if by unspoken agreement, he and Liz both abruptly turn and head for the nearest door.
"Who's Brendan?" he asks as he trails her through the sea of pretty, partying people. "You've never mentioned him."
"My assistant," she replies over her shoulder. "He can be a bit…possessive."
Jack humphs. "I noticed."
"He's not so bad," she adds, dropping her half-eaten fingerfood on a passing tray. "Once you get to know him."
He frowns behind her back. "You're not…with him, are you?"
Liz pushes through a set of double doors onto a small stone terrace where the air is quiet and warm. "God, no. Are you kidding me?"
Jack follows, one step behind. "Are you with anyone?"
"Uh-uh." She starts to turn: "How about--"
And then he's kissing her. His mouth is on hers, and there's breath and heat and awkward hands. He doesn't quite know how it happens or why it happens just then, and doubtless neither does she. He doesn't recall deciding to make the move, but it is after all what he came to do. He doesn't know where his hands actually land on her body but they do. He isn't really aware of the exact physics of how his mouth joins with hers. He's only aware of the sense of relief and urgency and completion when it finally, finally does.
The only thing he really knows in that moment is that he's missed the sight of every feature on her silly, gorgeous face. He's even missed the glasses she isn't wearing. He's missed the well-known curves and movements of her body and the specific timbre of her voice. He's missed…her. Liz. Being in her presence, and in her life. And the promise that used to exist between them when he was. A promise he used to think would fade. A promise Jack is now fully cognisant of as he never was before. A promise he wants to bring out of the dark and realize.
He pulls back, giving them both a moment to catch up. "So…I'm going to give you a minute. And then I'm going to do that again." He clears his throat to make his voice sound a little stronger. "So if you have any objections, now would be the time to raise them."
Still recovering, Liz sucks in a breath and gulps it down. Her brows twitch, attempting to conceal her incredulity. "…Objections?"
"Yes."
"I…"
Jack runs his hands up her arms, liking the feel of her body pressed against his, however it got there. "Yes?"
Her eyes roam down over his tuxedoed chest then flick up to his, still awash with uncertainty and shock. But she manages to stammer out: "I…I have an objection to waiting a whole minute."
Jack grins. "Well then…" And leans in.
It is at this moment that Brendan the possessive assistant chooses to stick his head around the door, coughing loudly, deliberately disturbing. "Excuse me, Liz? Sorry but…people are asking for you in here."
One hand flies up at her side but apart from this Liz does not budge. "Not now, okay? Just…not right now."
"I'm sorry," he whines: "But I have to remind you, you have that thing--!"
"Go away, Brendan!" she all but shouts without even a glance in his direction.
The door bumps shut as he disappears, leaving them alone again and entangled.
Liz licks her lips, gives a slight shrug. "I…I have a thing," she tells Jack after a moment.
"You have a thing?" he murmurs, smiling.
"Yeah..." She nods absently, eyes dropping to his mouth: "It's a…a…"
He lowers his voice to a rumble. "A thing?"
"Right," she mumbles. "You know how it is."
Jack nods, sliding both palms down her back and pressing her closer. "I know exactly how it is."
"I should really--"
"You really should."
She lifts her chin, inching closer: "Not right now though."
"No…" he whispers, tilting his head. "Definitely not right now."
The door creaks open again. "Um, Liz?"
"Augh!" She rounds on her assistant, her spine stiff and jaw clenched. "Seriously, Brendan! I'm having the best freeking moment of my life here! Could you not?" Liz whirls back as Brendan shrinks away from the doorframe, properly reprimanded. "Sorry…" she mutters, her expression chagrined and her hands balled into fists at her sides: "Sorry, Jack. I'm…jeez, I'm sorry."
Jack chuckles softly, takes a breath. "It's fine, Lemon, I ambushed you. Why don't you go do whatever you need to do, meet whomever you need to meet. Then what do you say we ditch this crowd and go grab us some real food?"
Her face splits into a wide, warm grin. "Yeah. I'd like that."
"After which…" he adds, stroking her hips with his fingertips: "I'm going to say four words to you that I've wanted to say for quite some time. Years, in fact."
Her hands touch down, tentative on his sleeves. "Which would be what?"
He pauses, leans in, eyes closing over briefly. "Your place or mine?"
Liz lets out a nervous laugh. "Oka-ay…well, thanks for the heads up, I guess." Her hands skate up to his shoulders and she watches their progress with a frankly proprietary relish. "So…I'm gonna go do my thing then," she says, making no move to leave his embrace.
"Whatever it is," he asks her, voice raspy: "could you do it fast?"
She smirks. "Believe me, I plan on it."
The door squeaks open. "Liz?" comes the familiar interruption.
She rolls her eyes, blowing some air through her lips. "Alright! Okay! I'm coming…" The door shuts again and Liz pulls away from him, her hips swinging furiously in her red dress as she heads across the stone terrace.
Jack hesitates only an instant before calling after her. "Of course, you realize I am in love with you."
Liz stops in her tracks, teeters in her heels then turns. She runs her fingers over her lips before she moves back toward him, drops her head against his chest and wraps her arms around his middle. She's silent a moment before muttering in a muffled voice: "I love the crap outta you too, Donaghy. I really do."
Jack plants a soft kiss in her hair. "That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard in my life."
She snorts, lifts her face. "It's true too."
He puts a hand on her cheek, smooths her hair back from her face, looking at her a moment. "God, have I missed you."
She grins, unable to disguise her delight. "Me too. You, I mean."
He kisses her once, softly, lips parted and both hands cupping her face. And this time he feels her respond. He feels her mouth comply and her body press closer. He feels the satisfaction of such a long-awaited and long-buried moment crash over the two of them at once. He feels a part of himself return, connect, revive. A part of her come home. And he feels something else commence, a new beginning begging to unfold.
Liz pulls back slowly, a twinkle in her eye. "So…if I walk away again now, are you going to say something else earth shattering?"
Jack cocks his head in thought. "Honestly, I was also thinking that your ass in that dress looks like a ripe plum I can't wait to take a juicy bite of. But I was gonna keep that thought to myself."
She half-smiles, half-frowns. "Yeah. That woulda been my choice." The frown part disappears and her voice softens as she slips out of his arms. "I'm gonna do this thing…" She backs toward the door, her expression turning impish as she adds: "But to answer your question--"
"Yes?"
"Yours."
He takes a step towards her, confused. "What?"
"When I'm done," she lifts her voice to tell him, one hand on the door: "let's go to your place. Okay?"
He nods in reply: "You got it!" and watches her slip through the door, with an irrepressible smile on her face and the color in her cheeks matching the crimson of her dress. Alone in the warm New York night air, Jack stuffs his hands in his tux pockets and starts to pace, eagerly awaiting her return.
"Now," he mutters to himself: "was that so very difficult?"
END.