"Okay," Liz mutters into the pillow, her lungs desperately gasping for air after Jack rolls off of her, her energy depleted body lying face down on his mattress. "I get why you think you're good at that."
Jack chuckles quietly in response, his body also fighting for some much needed oxygen. "So…balance restored?"
Liz swivels her head (it's really the only part of her body she can move at this point), "Oh yeah," she sighs, "I think if we introduce any more 'balance' you may break my vagina."
"Well, that's certainly a part of your anatomy I'd like to keep in tact." He smirks before getting out of bed. When Liz feels the bed shift and sees that he's walking toward his bathroom, she takes it as her cue to leave.
Reluctantly, she begins to prop herself up with her elbows so she can get out bed, but noticing her movement, Jack calls after her, "There's no need to leave so soon, Liz. You should rest. I'll be right back, I simply need to dispose of the condom."
Liz doesn't remember post-intercourse lounging around being part of the make-up sex phenomenon, but she defers to Jack's greater knowledge about these things. And also, closing her eyes for a few minutes seems like a great idea.
When Jack emerges from the bathroom clad in a plush navy blue robe and nothing else, he sees Liz splayed out in the middle of his bed, her hair shrouding her entire face, his sheets doing a very hasty and haphazard job of covering her nakedness. It is easily one of the most arousing sights he's ever seen.
"Is there an Elizabeth Lemon under there?" He teases, after crawling back into bed and using his fingers to lift some of Liz's hair away from her face.
"Don't make fun of me, you're the reason I look like such a gross mess." She pouts when she sees Jack's eyes twinkling with amusement.
"There is absolutely nothing 'gross' about the way you look right now." He muses while his hand proprietarily skims across her spine. "Are you hungry?" He stops himself before Liz can articulate a rejoinder and says, "Silly me, I forgot who I was talking to. Of course you're hungry….allow me to rephrase: What would you like to eat, Lemon?"
"You want to have dinner? With me?" Her tone is a mixture of disbelief and confusion. She definitely doesn't remember anybody mentioning dinner.
"Of course. I have no desire to simply send you on your way after we shared such an intimate act."
"Well…okay. But, isn't sex supposed to come after dinner?" She asks, as she tentatively sits up against the headboard.
"Conventionally speaking, yes. But you," He stops, to give her a quick tender kiss on the lips, "are a woman that defies convention."
Liz fingers brush up against her recently kissed lips and she stares at him in shock. She never expected for Jack to be so affectionate after they sealed the deal, but she doesn't know how to call him out his behavior appropriately. And, God help her, it actually feels really nice to be treated so well after sex.
"I could eat." She smiles.
"Wonderful." He rasps, "What are you in the mood for?"
"Everything." She says quickly, her smile widening at Jack's desire to please her.
"I can certainly arrange that. Would you like to freshen up?"
She nods, "Yeah. I need to put my face back together. Also, I want to call Pete and make sure the building hasn't burnt down in my absence."
"Usually, I would chide you for your paranoia, but if anybody's staff is capable of committing grand arson it's yours."
After Jack gets out of bed, he brings her purse to her so she can make herself presentable. "Hey…where are my clothes?"
"Ah, I was hoping you could do without your clothes for the rest of the evening. You can borrow a robe of mine, if you're uncomfortable eating naked."
Liz's jaw drops. She's pretty sure semi-naked dinners are not part of the standard make-up sex protocol. "Are you crazy? I'm not eating in the nude, I respect food too much for that. Can I please change back into what I was wearing?"
Jack lets out a disappointed sigh, "Very well. I'll order the food and will be right back with your clothes."
When Jack leaves the bedroom, Liz decides to investigate what this make-up sex business actually entails (in hindsight, she recognizes that she probably should have done this before agreeing to jump into bed with Jack, but conducting necessary research was never her strong suit). Grabbing her phone, she stumbles across a few websites and clicks on one that actually seems reputable and not creepy. When she reads a psychologist description of what make-up sex is, she gasps out loud and she feels herself getting angrier after every additional word she reads. "You loser!" She yells at Jack when he enters the bedroom with her clothes. As a follow up to her insult, she angrily throws one of his pillows at him and hops off the bed, clutching his sheets against her to preserve some sense of modesty.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Definition," she reads from her phone tersely, "make-up sex: when a couple resolves a dispute by engaging in passionate, rough intercourse immediately following an argument."
"Lemon…" Jack begins, his hands in the air as an obvious act of surrender.
"That is NOT what just happened between us because, one," she angrily holds one finger up and begins counting the numerous reasons why what transpired between them was not at all traditional make-up sex, "we are not a couple. Two - that wasn't rough at all! Not that I wanted it to be…" knowing she's getting off track, she pauses momentarily in order to collect her thoughts and calm herself down so she doesn't slap him across the face. "Anyway…" she continues, "three - this happened two weeks after our argument which was pretty much resolved already."
"Liz, I can explain…" Jack says cautiously, but Liz is hardly interested in hearing an explanation.
"Give me my clothes, Jack." Her hands reach for her clothing, which is tucked securely under Jack's arm, but his other hand effectively shields her from gaining any access to it.
"Lemon, I'll give you your clothes, but I want you to hear me out."
"No! You totally lied about whatever the hell this was and now I feel so stupid for blindingly believing you…" Her voice cracks a bit and Jack's face softens when its clear that he's hurt her.
"Liz," he says quietly, "hurting you was never my intention." The somber tone of his voice has succeeded in gaining Liz's attention. Just when he's about to open his mouth to offer some sort of justification for what he's done, the doorbell rings.
"Shit…" He runs his hands over his face in frustration before placing her clothes in her hands and gently brushing his fingers along her hips. "I just ordered enough food to fulfill every one of your culinary fantasies. Please eat with me. I'll explain everything."
Realizing he has little time to make impact before she runs out the door, he decides to lead his explanation with the absolute truth, "Liz, I did it because I have feelings for you."
She stares at him in shock. Opens and closes her mouth a couple times before she utters, "What?"
"You heard me. Please don't make me repeat it. At least, not before I tell you the whole story."
"While I loathe the middle school-type wording…yes, I do 'like' you. So," he gently pulls her a little closer and he gives her a gentle, tentative kiss on her lips. "I'm going to get the door and pay for the food. After you get dressed, you're free to leave. But…I'd really love it if you stayed so I have the opportunity to redeem myself."
"I dunno…" she mutters, biting her bottom lip apprehensively.
"I'll understand whatever you decide, Liz." With that, he leaves her alone in his bedroom. Liz takes her time getting showered and dressed, much longer than she needs, because she is trying to wrap her head around the notion that Jack Donaghy has a crush on her. She doesn't know how this could the case. The cynical part of her thinks it might be another lie, but she would like to believe that Jack (despite his faults) is an honest person when it comes to matters of the heart.
After about a half hour, she emerges from the bedroom and shyly enters the dining room. Her eyes go wide when she sees that Jack ordered quite a spread. His dining room table is practically a representation of all of her favorite foods and she feels her chest expand at the generosity inherent in the gesture. "I can't eat all this." She gasps when the shock of seeing all the food in front of her subsides.
"I think the two of us together could do a decent amount of damage." Jack muses, sipping from his tumbler of scotch as he observes the feast in front of them. "That is, if you still are willing to be in my company."
Liz walks over to him and cocks her head to the side, "I'd like to hear more about the you having a crush on me thing."
He smiles, relieved that she's at least willing to hear him out, "I suppose I didn't know it existed until I fired you. After I did so, the thought of not seeing you every day began to gnaw at me. More than I thought it ever would."
"So then you concocted the whole make-up sex thing?
"I actually did think it was a valid solution at the time. But then when you rejected me, it became more apparent that I had to come up with a different tactic in order to resolve our differences, and also, for me to win over your affection. But then you stormed into my office and decided to take me up on my initial offer…something that was impossible for me to resist."
"You know…" she says with a quirked eyebrow, "you could have just asked me out like a normal dude."
He scoffs, "And if you rejected me again? Our working relationship would never have recovered."
"You were afraid." Her voice is quiet, understanding. She certainly emphasizes with being hesitant and tentative with regards to dating, but she never thought Jack would share the same apprehensions when it came to dealing with the opposite sex.
"I suppose I was."
Liz's gaze drifts from the eclectic variety of gourmet food to Jack's piercing blue eyes that are practically imploring her to forgive him. Motivated by pure instinct, Liz again decides to take control, and she purposefully walks up to Jack, gets up on her toes and brushes her lips against his own.
"So you want to date me?" She mutters against his lips.
"God, yes." He mumbles, his lips barely breaking apart from hers.
After this declaration, it doesn't take much for the kisses between them to deepen and for Liz's hands to find their way under Jack's robe. "Hey," she whispers, breaking away from his embrace momentarily, "promise me you'll never lie to me again. If you have something to say, I just want you to say it. Your brutal and douchey honesty is what I love most about you."
"Love?" He smirks with one raised eyebrow.
She rolls her eyes in response, "You know what I mean."
"I do indeed," he bends down again to kiss her, but interrupts his movement by saying, "so…Lemon…care to experience authentic make-up sex?"
She looks up at him adoringly, the man that she swore she'd never like, but now may be in love with, takes a deep breath, and says, "Go for it."
She learns a few interesting things about herself that night. Mainly, she really likes make-up sex. In fact, she's pretty sure she likes whatever version of make-up sex Jack comes up with.