perpetual_motion: hang yourself please (squee)
[personal profile] perpetual_motion
Title: Love, Pocket-Sized
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Rating: PG
Summary: Post-"Subway Hero", Liz gets gifted, Jack comes clean.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Lied. Tina Fey, if you see this, understand I love you like woah.

Author's Notes: For [livejournal.com profile] michellek, who got me into the show and Jack/Liz, and for [livejournal.com profile] amazonqueenkate, who read it, squealed, and then demanded more. Because that's how she is.


Love, Pocket-Sized
By Perpetual Motion

It’s sitting on her desk, no bow or note, and Liz picks it up and turns it around a few times before she figures out that it’s a pocket deep fryer. A bit more fiddling, and she’s folded it into something roughly the size of a power compact. It’s impressive. She heads upstairs to tell Jack.

“This is impressive.”

“Of course it is, Lemon. I came up with it.”

She wonders when he went from being obnoxious to being vaguely adorable. And she did not just think ‘adorable’ while looking at Jack. “So, when do they go on sale?”

“On sale?”

Liz shakes her carefully folded, compact-sized deep fryer. “Yeah. You know. On sale. Where you make the money and then donate the money to Evil Republican Schemes.”

“We’re calling them Evil Republican Strategies now. It sounds less awful.”

She hates when she can’t tell if he’s joking. “Whatever. Look. When do they go on sale? I would totally buy ten.”

Jack looks down at his desk and ruffles some papers. “It’s not going on sale. That’s the only one.”

That makes Liz pause. She scrunches her nose and cocks her head. “Huh?”

“That’s the only one, Lemon.” Jack looks at her like she’s a complete idiot. “The only people who would buy such things would be drunken frat boys and…you.”

“Thanks,” Liz says, and she’s not sure if she’s actually insulted or not. Something pings in her head. “Wait. You’re not making these?” She waves the deep fryer again.

“No.”

“You’re Jack Donaghy. You don’t waste money on things that won’t make you money.”

“I do it all the time, Lemon.”

“Do not.” Liz considers sticking out her tongue when Jack gives her a patronizing look. “I mean, really, why would you bother making me a pocket deep fryer? It’d be like giving flowers to-“

Jack laughs. “Oh, Lemon, how long has it-“

“You’re in love with me,” Liz says with certainty she doesn’t usually use for these kinds of conversations. Her eyes get wide, and she backs away a step. “Oh, my god, you’re in love with me.”

“Lemon, really, we’ve had this conversation.” Jack chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ve had models. Women of State. Daughters of models.”

“You’re in love with me,” and it comes out as a sing-song, but Liz can’t stop that any more than she can stop the smile on her face. “Jack Donaghy is in love with me.”

Liz is suddenly against the wall, and she’s not sure how she got there. Jack is leaning over her, a smirk on his face, and one hand curling around her waist. “Hi,” she says and laughs nervously. “You’re, like, right there.”

“Yes, I am.” And damnit, but Jack sounds just as confident and collected as always. “Tell me, Lemon-“

“My name’s Liz,” she interrupts. “If we’re gonna make out in the next five minutes, you have to call me Liz.”

“How long have you been in love with me?” Jack continues as though Liz has said nothing.

“I am not-“ is as far as Liz gets before Jack leans in and kisses her. He kisses like he argues, straight to the point with his tongue slipping into her mouth as soon as she parts her lips to breathe.

Jack pulls away after a minute, looking completely unruffled by the turn of events. He looks Liz over, suddenly shaking his head and raising his eyebrows at her left hand. “I kiss you like that, and you haven’t let go of the fryer?”

Liz smirks. “Maybe you’re not as good as you-“ She’s cut off with another kiss, this one obviously a competition. She tightens her hold on the fryer and kisses back just as hard.

“Damn, you’re good,” Jack says when he pulls away again.

“You’re okay,” Liz says and pushes at Jack’s chest with her free hand. “Does this thing work?”

“Of course it works, Lemon.” Jack looks completely affronted. “How romantic would it be to give you a deep fryer that doesn’t actually fry?”

“Cool,” Liz says and unfolds the fryer. “So, can you, like, send Jonathan on a chicken run?”

“I can.” Jack steps back and walks over to his door. “Jonathan, find a bodega that doesn’t smell of Mexico and bring back a Cornish Game Hen.”

”Yes, sir.”

Liz eyes the fryer. “Can you fit a whole Hen in here?”

“Lemon,” Jack says as he closes the door and backs her towards his couch. “Put down the fryer.”

“But it’s neat.” She folds it again just because she can. “And it makes food.”

Jack takes the fryer out of her hand and puts it on his desk. After a moment’s hesitation, he lifts Liz onto the desk as well. “One twenty-four. What happened to the three pounds?”

“I didn’t have a deep fryer.”

“Well, well,” Jack says, and kisses her rather than saying anything else.

“Well,” Liz responds, and kisses him back.



EDIT: With love to [livejournal.com profile] leaper182 for the use of a spare cut bracket.

on 2008-04-23 03:27 am (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] leaper182.livejournal.com
*cocks head to one side*

*offers an end bracket for your LJ-cut?*

on 2008-04-23 03:57 am (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] perpet-fic.livejournal.com
Oh, fuckmonkeys.

Fixing.

::takes bracket::

on 2008-04-23 05:15 am (UTC)
ext_20028: (30 rock: jack/liz & never thought)
Posted by [identity profile] michellek.livejournal.com
1. This is so adorable and I love it.

2. “Yeah. You know. On sale. Where you make the money and then donate the money to Evil Republican Schemes.”

“We’re calling them Evil Republican Strategies now. It sounds less awful.”


This made me lol.

3. You should post it to [livejournal.com profile] jack_liz.

on 2008-04-23 08:49 am (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] muic.livejournal.com
Hee this was fun and hot. I love it when Liz has epiphanies faster than Jack expects her to.

Jack=Human weighing machine? Perfect.

Oh and you should post it at [livejournal.com profile] jack_liz

on 2008-04-23 04:22 pm (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile] sipman.livejournal.com
::snort:: This? "Jack steps back and walks over to his door. “Jonathan, find a bodega that doesn’t smell of Mexico and bring back a Cornish Game Hen.”" spot on Jack...great stuff...Peace

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