October
…
"Do we really have to do that?"
Liz's words are muffled because of the spoon in her mouth, and she's peering at Jack's laptop from her spot next to him on the couch while he plays with the fabric of her soft cashmere dress.
"It's about time, Lemon."
She removes the spoon, and sticks it back in the Nutella jar. "It doesn't look like fun."
"But it is necessary. You'll learn how to breathe. I'll learn how to help you. We're already late as it is."
Though his words are spoken calmly, her brow furrows as she looks down at her enormous belly, and she puts down the jar on the coffee table with a huff.
"Jack, I'll feel like an idiot. We did the prenatal yoga, and it was awful. Don't make me do it."
"You know that Dr. Rose said we should take a prenatal class. They can teach us important techniques, and, besides, it's nice for us as a couple. See," he points at one paragraph on the screen, "they say it gives the father…'a better feeling about the miracle of birth'."
While he knows it is necessary, Jack can't help himself from grimacing at the words, and he moves his computer to a spot next to the Nutella.
"Ew. No way."
Over the past weeks he has suggested almost every pregnancy-related class for couples, but Liz has dismissed them all. This time he will not let her win. He wants to do breathing exercises, he wants to roll with her on the floor; he wants to do it all. His child will be born in the very best way possible, if he has anything to do with it. He may even win the Birth of the Year award from Executive Fathers magazine.
Jack places two hands on his frowning wife and allows them to wander to her thighs.
"Please, Lemon," he whispers close to her ear, and she shivers.
"You're manipulating me," she complains weakly.
"Does it work?" he breathes, nibbling her earlobe.
"Crap, yes," Liz finally mumbles, and he squeezes her in delight.
"I'll go to the dumb class with you, but if it gets too stupid, I'm leaving."
"Sounds fair," he agrees, and finally she turns back towards the computer.
"Okay, let's sign up."
Jack gives her a shark smile. "I already did."
Liz frowns in disapproval, and he runs a finger down her side for a distraction.
"It's tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" she asks incredulously, but her aversion turns into a soft moan while he places kisses over the valley of her throat.
"Mm-hmm," he murmurs, and she sighs.
"You've gotten dangerously good at manipulating me."
"I had to. We're running out of time," he answers drily. When her face slips into a pout, he almost laughs out loud. It's entirely inappropriate for a woman her age to look that cute. Yet she has hardly ever fit the societal definition of 'appropriate'. (He doesn't mind anymore.)
"I miss feeling you without the, ya know, belly between us. Does this already make me a bad mother?"
He shakes his head.
"Not at all. It just makes you a woman."
Liz lays her head onto his shoulder, and he buries his nose in her hair.
"How come you always know the right thing to say?"
Jack inhales, and smiles at her distinct scent: a mixture of mildly-priced shampoo, something faintly flowery...it is her. He can't get enough.
"Because I love you. It's really rather simple."
"Show it to me," she whispers into his neck. Then, before she loses her nerve: "Make me feel sexy."
His lips find her earlobe anew.
"That's easy."
It is Friday, and outside the autumn leaves are falling in the darkness, as one man leads his woman to their bedroom. She undresses herself and watches him do the same. Jack takes her hand and tugs her in front of their full-length mirror.
Without shoes, she is shorter than him, and even despite her heavy hips, despite her pregnant body, she is so lovely in his arms. Jack lets his palms slide over her full breasts, her rounded belly, her smooth thighs and up again. He finds her eyes in the mirror, brown and slightly glassy. Tilting his head, he rubs his cheek over her satiny hair.
"Look how beautiful you are," he whispers, and in the glow of his adoration, Liz can see it as well.
A smile plays around her lips, reaching her eyes, and she leans back against his chest, trusting him to support her.
"Thank you, love," she answers.
It is scarce that either of them uses pet names, but when she does it, it hits him with unexpected tenderness.
He turns her around until he can kiss her, and with eyes open he can admire her bare back in the reflection of the mirror, the contrast of wavy dark hair on milky-white shoulders, the curves of her ass. He reaches around her, and his hands on her are so arousing that he hums audibly. Breaking their kiss, Liz turns her head to see what he can see, and the image of their naked bodies in such an intimate embrace hits her insides with a rush of heat.
When she looks at him again, her cheeks are flushed, her eyes dark with excitement.
"I'm tired of standing," she whispers, and pushes him backwards.
He grabs her wrists to take her with him, and when they fall onto the mattress rather ungracefully, both of them are laughing.
Soon, their chuckles subside; turn into breathless moans. And the leaves outside their windows are dancing as Jack and Liz find their rhythm. As they come together in the oldest dance ever.
He whispers to her, mentions every part of her, everything she does that is sexy, and she revels in it, feeling female and desired. Their gazes are locked as their worlds splinter, baby blue falling into chocolate brown, and everything around them vanishes until nothing but her smile remains; nothing but the raw devotion in his eyes.
They fall asleep with him curled around her, and she dreams about a baby sitting on a moon. He doesn't dream anything at all.
…
"I did not see that coming," Jack gasps and clutches her hand while they make their way down the stairs. Liz isn't totally clumsy all the time, but when it comes to stairs, she has zero grace. It's a bit of a hassle; the lack of balance control.
"You did know how babies are born, didn't you?" she says, but her cheeks are pale.
"Of course, Lemon, don't be silly, but..."
His voice trails off as he tries to erase the memory of the video they have just seen. Liz can't stop thinking about it either; it reminds her of a birthing class sketch that she wrote once for TGS, and this is way too similar.
"Oh, Lemon, I'm so sorry, it will hurt so much…"
She stops suddenly, forcing him to stop as well.
"Thanks for mentioning the pain. I thought squeezing something as big as a football out of me would be a completely fun pastime."
He simply gapes at her, and she has to laugh at his obvious shock.
"It's a little too late to worry about it, Jack."
"What about a C-section?"
"God, Jack, have you ever seen a video of a C-section? They cut and rip the skin apart and—"
"Lalala."
His hands are on his ears, and she laughs again at his ridiculous behavior.
She had disliked the prenatal class instantly; he had loved it. Able to feel his pride and joy, Liz had indulged him, had breathed with him, had let him rock her, rub her back and so on.
Along with them there had been five couples, but the other women had been a few weeks behind Liz in their pregnancies.
"Told you we're late," he had hissed into her ear, and she had rolled her eyes while the midwife had 'involved' the couples.
"Jack Donaghy; my wife Liz. This is our first child together."
His voice had interrupted her musings, and she had simply nodded as Jack introduced them.
"A girl, Alice," he had answered the next question, and several awwws could be heard.
His hand had rubbed her belly in possessive satisfaction.
"Yes, we are quite excited. Aren't we, darling?"
She had glared at him but tried her best sugary smile.
"Absolutely, sweetie."
Then everything had been about panting against the pain, and while the women had rolled on their backs, Liz hadn't been able to stop thinking about upside-down turtles. The fact that she had been one of them had made it less funny, though.
It had pretty much been as expected. Until the midwife had started that video. They had only made it halfway through the birth scenes before the urge to flee had been overwhelming, but fortunately they'd been on the same page.
"Do you think we've passed the class?" he asks. The magazines would want to know.
"Uh...I don't think this is a class where you can fail, Jack."
"Again, I'm sorry," he says dejectedly. "I don't think I'll be much help when the time comes."
"Well, contrary to you, I've been prepared for the fact that Alice will have to leave my body at some point. And the number of exits is limited."
"I don't know what to do. What can I do?"
Now, it is Liz's turn to soothe him. This is not the first time it's happened, and it won't be the last. It is one of the keys to their relationship.
"You will be there. Just drive me crazy as always. We'll bicker. Maybe I can forget the pain. Oh, and you aren't allowed to look between my legs, is that clear?"
She looks at him sharply while he shudders at the image.
"Absolutely. No photos or videos either. Do you," he swallows hard, "do you think we will ever be able to forget that? Will ever be able to have sex again?" Now he's concerned. (Of course.)
"Eh," she shrugs, "it doesn't really matter. My intention was to have your baby. This whole relationship thing was just a cover to get what I wanted. Good genes and whatever."
He looks at her indifferent face with dark and serious eyes.
"Not funny."
"Beg to differ," she says with glee.
"Okay," he runs one hand through his hair. "I might be overreacting."
"Might?" Liz raises her eyebrows.
"I just hate feeling incompetent. You know?"
"I do. Are you gonna need the 'Nut Up, Jack Donaghy' speech again?"
"No. That may have been years ago, but it is still very memorable. I like to think of that as one of the defining moments of our relationship."
Liz smirks. "How cute."
"Indeed. Now, are you able to manage the rest of these stairs, or shall I call in a forklift?"
"You know what? I've decided that I'm not going to apologize in advance for anything that I call or say to you during labor."
"Looking forward to it."
…
It is nights like these, when Jack stays late at the office, that Liz feels a familiar fear.
Sitting in the nursery's rocking chair, she holds herself while convincing her stupid brain that everything is good. That it doesn't matter that she hasn't spent much time around babies. That it's okay to feel scared of what's coming next. That it is fine if she doesn't know any real lullabies.
Just to reassure herself, she quietly starts singing.
"Don't go to sleep with a frown in your pocket. Take it to the yard, and tie it to a rocket. Shoot it to the moon; you'll feel better soon…don't go to bed with a frown."
This is how Jack finds when he returns from work, his face ruddy from the outdoor chill. She is so wrapped up in her musings that she hasn't even heard his keys in the lock, and when he approaches the room he can hear her clear singing voice filling the air.
The sound of his footsteps alerts her, and with a shy grin she looks up, pausing in her song.
"Don't stop."
Despite the lyrics of her ditty, she frowns up at him. "I don't even know a proper lullaby."
"It's all about your voice. Alice doesn't care what you're singing to her."
"I haven't spent enough time with babies," she blurts. "I don't know how to be a mother. What if I'm not good at it?"
He leans against the wall, and offers a small smile.
"Well, you love her."
Liz smiles back tentatively.
"Yes, of course I do."
"What do you wish to teach her?"
"Um. That she's loved. That there is a safe place in this world for her. That she can achieve whatever she wants. Also, if she wants to be gay, that I have no problem with it."
"Nor do I, but you may be jumping ahead of yourself there, Lemon."
Liz shrugs, and Jack can see that she is not entirely placated, but he's getting there. He chooses his next words carefully.
"From where I am standing, you'll be a wonderful mother, Elizabeth. I wish I had known one like you when I was growing up." He thinks of his recent progress with Colleen, but the part about his childhood feelings is true.
Liz turns her attention to the window, and watches the trees swaying in the Park. She is no longer distraught.
"I hope you're right. And we'll be doing it together. So I will not be entirely to blame."
He helps her out of the chair, and they head to the kitchen to order takeout.
"Without a doubt, Lemon."
…