Rating: K
Disclaimer: Copyright Tina etc. No money made.
Spoilers: minor, season 4
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Summary: What's wrong with Liz Lemon?
A/N: I felt this needed to be said.
Usually, when she asks, she doesn't get an answer. Doesn't expect one. And isn't real sure she wants one. Especially from Jack. Because if Jack did actually tell her what was wrong with her the list might go on forever. It would no doubt be very detailed, well thought out and utterly excruciating for her poor ego.
Frankly, she was under the impression that whenever she did ask this particular question, or something like it, Jack understood that it was mostly rhetorical. It seemed to be one of the rare topics on which he had little to say. Or at least, one of the rare moments he knew well enough to keep his big mouth shut. Most of time, when she went off on one of her rants, she assumed that he just tuned her out until she reached her limit and he could turn the conversation onto more important things than her obvious and various flaws.
Apparently not though.
Because this time, when she concludes her latest rant with, "Augh! What is wrong with me?" Jack turns his head towards her, seemingly having listened to every dumb word.
He adjusts his position on her couch, raises his brows. "Honestly?"
Liz turns to look at him also. "Yes. Wait. No-" She hesitates, thinks, glancing around her suddenly dim office, looking for a little guidance. "Yes," she says finally, then gives a short nod. "Yes. Tell me the truth. Tell me everything. I want you to. I can take it." She pulls a face at him before he can open his mouth to answer. "It's my hair, isn't it? It's not good, I should do something about it. Right? No? Augh, that is so stupid and vain. It's not my hair, why would it be my hair? It's what you said before, isn't it? About me being negative all the time. I'm too negative, that's what's wrong with me. I should be…different to that. I'm gonna try to be different to that, from now on-"
Jack just blinks at her, calmly waiting until she takes a breath to interrupt. "Do you want to hear my answer or not?"
Liz lets out a breath, regards him in the disappearing light. Then nods silently.
"Then I want you to listen carefully," he tells her, "because I'm only going to say this once."
She swallows. "Okay."
"What is wrong with you…?"
"Yeah…?"
He pauses, eyes growing slightly warmer. "Is absolutely nothing."
She blinks. Her lips part, but no words come out. Because that is certainly not the answer she was expecting. In fact, it's a thought that never even occurred to her. Not once. And there is no response she has to it. None needed either. She doesn't have to ask him if he means it. Or fish for extra information. Because Jack has never been one to sugarcoat. He's always told her the absolute truth. And somehow, she just knows he is telling her the truth now.
She leans back, and for a moment they just sit in silence, side by side on her couch. The faint blare of car horns drifts up from the street and the buildings outside her windows glint with gold as another day departs. It feels like some invisible weight has been lifted from her. She feels liberated by just a few simple words. Everything suddenly looks different now. Better. Simpler. Her life, her future. Everything.
"Well-" Jack murmurs, rousing himself then pausing. He places a hand on her knee, pats it. "Goodnight, Lemon. See you tomorrow." He rises, heading for the door, but when she still hasn't spoken, he turns back.
She looks up at him, still on the couch, hands in her lap. "Night, Jack," she replies. A small smile lifts her lips. "And thanks."
He smiles back at her a moment. "You're welcome." Then leaves.
Liz sits on her couch another minute or so, absorbing the dark. "Nothing…" she mutters to herself. "Huh. Well...okay then."
END.