dollsome

"Friends ... sounds nice," Jack says. His voice is a little huskier than usual. She's torn between being all 'oh crap, don't cry, don't cry,' and '... well, maybe cry a little, that would be kind of fascinating.' He pats her on the shoulder again. "Lately, Lemon, I've found myself suspecting that 'friends' is the best thing in my life. The one thing I can truly rely upon, beyond all else. The one thing I trust. 'Friends,' here, having the meaning of 'you.' I'm specifying," Jack adds, "because otherwise it might get back to Jonathan, and then he may get ideas."

"Well, that's sweet, Jack," Liz says, putting her hand on top of his. "You know what, let's do that fundraiser!"

Jack gives her a slight smile. "Thank you."

"I'm gonna get myself kicked out within the first fifteen minutes, bee tee dubs."

"I have no doubt that you believe that now."

"You can't My Fair Lady me into being okay with Sarah Palin, Jack. It's never going to happen."

"The same thing was said to me once by a young Joe Miller," Jack tells her, untroubled.

Okay. Creepy.

"Time for me to get back to work," Liz announces, before that story can go any further. "Hang in there, Donaghy."

"Will do," Jack says, and for the first time in awhile, she believes him.

He starts to walk away, then stops right in front of her. Man, his eyes are super blue. Should that be biologically possible?

"And Lemon," he says, soft and smirky, "If I was Moby Dicking you ... you'd know it."

He walks away. There's some definite classic Jack Donaghy swagger in his step.

"Oh brother," Liz mumbles, watching him go.