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It was over faster than she realized. One moment, she was in Jack’s office, siding with Avery about an argument Jack and Avery were having about their baby, and the next thing she knew, someone had barged into Jack’s office, rushed them, and she’d blacked out. Later on, she found out that Jack had accidentally pinched her sleeping nerve, causing her to pass out. Later, he claimed he’d done it for her protection.
She found herself sitting in a hospital bed, wearing only a hospital gown and – mismatched socks. Nerds! She had meant to go to the laundromat the other day, but there was a Queen of Jordan marathon on Bravo, and, well.
“I can’t believe you, Jack.” She heard a slightly muffled voice coming from the curtain on her left.
“Listen... I tried to get us a private room. I explained we live on the Upper East side, and--”
“No, that’s not the point, and you know it.” It was Avery, and she sounded angry.
“What, then?”
Liz could hear Jack fairly clearly now, and from his tone, it was obvious he knew exactly what Avery was talking about.
“The fact that the first person you went to protect was Liz, and not your own wife.”
The details suddenly flooded back to Liz: the person who’d barged into Jack’s office had a gun. The attacker had grabbed for the two women as they turned to look, but Jack was immediately on the other side of his desk (how he’d gotten around so fast, she still couldn’t figure out – he didn’t normally move that quickly), and pulled Liz behind him. She remembered being pushed up against his back; the silky texture of his shirt against her cheek, the musky, but floral scent of his expensive cologne...
She’d briefly caught Avery landing a roundhouse kick on the intruder’s head, but it was pretty shortly thereafter that Liz had passed out. The next thing she knew, she woke up in an ambulance, Jack and Avery leaning over her. She’d passed out again, only to wake up in the hospital, to this.
“Avery, please. We both know that Lemon is a liberal, and therefore can’t protect herself.”
“That’s not true!” Liz called out from the other side of the curtain. “I took a self defense class ... once.” She thought back, to high school, when, during a self-defense session, her gym teacher had forced Liz to give her a head lock. Liz was pretty sure she remembered her boobs being felt up before she was flipped over, and passed out.
“Stay out of it!” both Jack and Avery said at the same time.
Avery continued: “Anyway, my point is, as a Republican, we believe in family values. You should have been protecting me first.”
“I think you handled the situation pretty well. After all, you landed the kick that knocked him out.”
“That’s beside the point.”
“No, that’s exactly the point – I married you because you can take care of yourself. Lemon, on the other hand, she’s like – having a retarded daughter that you always have to watch over just in case...”
“Listen,” Liz protested, “it’s mentally disabled, and besides –“ Liz swung the curtain open, surprised to see both Avery and Jack in hospital gowns, too. “Hey. Why are your hospital gowns made of velvet?”
“Velvet hospital gowns are included in our upper-crust health care plan. Which will be derailed if Obamacare actually goes into effect...” Jack said, trailing off.
“Wow, these are really nice,” Liz said, touching the sleeve of Jack’s gown.
Avery swatted her hand. “Don’t touch.”
“Ow!” Liz said, rubbing her hand. She glared at Avery, then at Jack. “Listen – I didn’t ask for help from your husband, all right? I could have handled myself...”
“Lemon, you threw your hands up and said, ‘I surrender!’ as soon as you saw the gunman,” Jack said.
“I’m a pacifist?” Liz said weakly. “Anyway, my point is that I have no interest in getting between you and Jack, but I do know Jack pretty well, and I know he’d never marry anyone that couldn’t hold their own – which you can,” she said, looking at Avery.
Avery’s frown slowly faded. “I ... suppose that’s true.”
“Of course that’s true,” Jack said, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead. “Remember at Brian William’s Christmas party, when you had Keith Olbermann crying like a baby?”
“Heh,” Avery said. “I don’t even know how he got invited – even Rachel Maddow wouldn’t talk to him.”
“Ha, he’s like the Levi Johnston of the political reporter set,” Liz put in.
“Who?” Jack asked.
“You know, that guy Jenna made a sex tape with last year,” Liz explained.
“Ugh,” Jack said. Jack was not a fan of sex tapes, but the advertising revenues from Roughin’ It in Alaska had kept TGS on air for another season.
Avery sighed, turning to Jack. “OK, I’m willing to forgive you. As long as tonight, you...” she pulled Jack forward and whispered into his ear.
Jack’s eyes grew wide. “But that’s illegal in forty states… including this one.”
“We’ll take a drive to Vermont tonight. Everything’s legal there.”
Liz watched the exchange, her mouth crinkling up in disgust. “Are you guys talking about sex? Gross.”
Jack chuffed. “You wish.”
===
“Listen, Jack,” Liz said as she walked into his office later that week. “I...”
He shushed her, pointing to his phone at his ear. “Yes, I think we could modify the BlaBar to cover the entire screen for MSNBC shows, but... OK, then. We’ll work on that.”
Liz sat across from him.
“Lunch at Chili’s?” he said to the other person on the line. “Kabletown,” he mouthed to Liz.
“Well,” he continued, “maybe later in the week; I have a full schedule today. All right, then.”
As he hung up, Liz said, “Hey, do you know they’re doing this new deal at Chili’s – one appetizer and two entrees for twenty bucks.” Her face darkened. “Of course, they told me you have to have two people for them to give you the deal.”
“That is ... unfortunate,” Jack said.
“Do you have lunch plans?” Liz asked with a hopeful smile.
“Indefinitely. Anyway, what did you come here for?”
“Oh, I just -- wanted to thank you for the other day. I know you put the integrity of your marriage on the line by protecting me, and I just wanted to thank you for that. I might not be alive if it wasn’t for you.”
“Yes, that’s true. But regardless, Lemon, you’re my mentee, and it’s my obligation to protect you.” He came around to sit on the edge of his desk, touching her arm lightly.
She smiled at him. “For what it’s worth, if there was a run on sandwiches and you were without one, I’d share mine with you.”
“Unlikely, Liz. I keep a private chef on call and a bunker stocked with food in case of a catastrophe.” When Liz looked down, Jack smiled, tipping her chin up. “I appreciate the sentiment, though.”
Her mouth turned up again. She stood up to leave.
“Oh, and Lemon?” he said. “I’d let you have a space in my private bunker if you promised not to eat all the food.”
Liz chuckled. “You know I could never promise something like that.”