DISCLAIMER: 30 Rock and its characters are the property of Tina Fey. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

By Geonn


There were only so many ways to watch Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer before you had to admit you were watching a fucking clay elf prancing around in the snow with his weirdo friends. She picked up her tape recorder and spoke into the mic as she stared dully at the screen. "Skit idea... Hermey the Misfit Elf as the Corbin Bernsen character from The Dentist." She knew Frank had most likely seen the movie; she would assign the skit to him with a note to not make it too gory.

Liz put the tape recorder down and poked at her TV dinner. Christmas Eve and her dinner was a half-thawed turkey meal from Swanson. She poked at the dark brown half-circle of meat, swirled her fork in the gravy and pushed the tray away. She picked up the phone and dialed a number. "I don't even know why I even have your number memorized, but fine, whatever." She tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder and turned off Rudolph.

She stood up and paced, walking to the window and then back to the counter as the phone rang in her ear. "It's Christmas Eve," she told herself. "She won't be home. Why would she be home, when she could be out... Hello?"

"Hi. Liz?"

Liz grinned. She remembered my name. She remembered she wasn't in high school anymore, and said, "Hey, Gretchen. Merry Christmas. I, uh, hmm. Well."

"You were worried about choking on your turkey, weren't you?"

"Well, anyone who isn't about that is a fool," Liz said. She pushed her bangs out of her face and looked out the window. "How did you know?"

Gretchen chuckled. "Because last night I stayed up half the night afraid that I might stop breathing in my sleep and no one would be there to nudge me back to life."

"Oh, my God," Liz gasped as she dropped back onto the stool. "I've never even thought of that. What is that even called?"

"Sleep apnea."

Liz growled. "Right! God. Now I'm going to be worried about that all night tonight."


"Nah, it's all right. I was going to be up anyway."

"Waiting for Santa?"

"Please," Liz said. "I've given up hope on men randomly wandering into my apartment in the middle of the night."

"How have you been, Liz?"

Liz groaned. "Ugh. Well, I started seeing this guy who works in the building--"

"That's great!"

"He turned out to be my cousin."


"Yeah. How, ah... how about you? Did you ever find your lady Stedman?"

Gretchen said, "Eh. I thought I did for about a month. It ended when I found out she thought monogamy was a four-letter word. It wouldn't have been so bad, but she revealed this to me while she was going down on her personal trainer. In my bed."


"Eh, what are you gonna do."

"Buy a new bed, for one." Liz stood and walked into the living room. "And to think I thought it would be easier to just switch teams and be with you. I guess women aren't a walk in the park either."

"You think about being with me?"

Liz dropped onto the sofa. "Oops. Let that slip, did I?"

Gretchen sighed. "Liz... you can't keep doing this to me."

"Doing what? We're just talking."

"I had... have... feelings for you. It's why we stopped hanging out. I was falling for you and you couldn't make yourself fall for me. You shouldn't make yourself fall for someone. So unless you're ready to make a change..."

"What if I was?"

Gretchen was quiet.

"I mean, hey... look at my track record. After you and I..." Don't say broke up, don't say broke up "...broke up..." Nice job, Emmy-winning writer. Shut up, inner voice. "...I got back together with my boyfriend, Dennis."

"How'd that turn out?" She sounded disinterested, annoyed.

"He turned up on, uh... one of those Dateline child predator specials. But the point is, I really don't like men."

"Not all lesbians hate men, Liz."

"I know. But I do. When it's just us, me and him, it's like... okay. Let's get on with it. Let's do something or go see something just so I won't have to be alone with you. But when I was with you..."

"What about the sex? You said that you would have to be with a man."

Liz shrugged. "When I'm with a guy, the sex isn't really an issue, either. I'm basically celibate no matter who I'm dating. Might as well not sleep with someone I actually enjoy being around."

"You're saying you're willing to give me a trial run?"

Liz smiled. "I don't know. My friends at work are definitely rooting for us. Look, you like me. I like you."

"It's not the same thing," Gretchen said. "You want to go to coffee and hang out with me. I want to have sex with you."

"Well, hey, we all have our hobbies. You would go to the Emmys with me, even though you'd be bored out of your skull. And I'd be willing to..." she swallowed, "...go down on you even though the idea kind of skeeves me out."

"Good-bye, Liz," Gretchen said.

"No, wait!" Liz settled against the cushions. "I don't like going down on guys, either. The whole sex thing. It always feels like an obligation. I might as well be doing the obliging to someone I actually like. And I do like you."

Gretchen sighed. "Okay, how about a hypothetical?"

"Hit me with your best shot," Liz said. "Or something that... doesn't evoke Pat Benatar."

Gretchen cleared her throat. "Okay. We both come home after a long day at work. You're exhausted, I'm annoyed at working with jerks..."

"Can we switch that?" Liz said. "Because actually Tracy and Jenna have been..."



"I'm annoyed, and I ask you for a neck rub."

Liz shrugged. "Sure, I could do that. No problem."

"And in the middle of it, I lean into you. And I move your hands to my breasts."

Liz cleared her throat. "N-no problem. Yeah, I mean... what, yeah. Breast massage..."

"And you realize I'm not wearing a bra. My nipples are getting hard."

Liz's eyes were half-closed and she breathed, "Mine too."

"I meant in the hypothetical."

"M-me, too." Liz's eyes snapped open and she cleared her throat. She looked around as if someone might have seen her.

"So I turn around and I look up at you. And I reach up and put my hand on your neck." Liz put her hand on her neck and closed her eyes again. "And I pull you down for a kiss. You're telling me you wouldn't pull away?"

Liz's lips were parted and she was surprised to find she was breathing heavy. She licked her lips and says, "It depends on what you would do next..."

"I don't know..."

"Would you unbutton your shirt?"

Gretchen said, "Liz, are you getting horny?"

"Maybe. A little. Why?"

"Oh, good," Gretchen sighed. Clothing rustled on the other side of the phone line.

Liz opened her eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Taking off my pajama bottoms."

"A-are you wearing anything underneath them?"


Liz felt a blush rising in her cheeks and moved her free hand down between her legs. She said, "So... we're kissing. And my... hands are on your breasts, right?"


"See? It's not so bad. Almost nice."


"Really nice," Liz admitted. She pressed her middle and ring fingers against the crotch of her pajamas and jerked away from the back of the couch. "Sweet Jehoshaphat...!"

"What, what is it?"

"I, uh... I, uh..."

"Did you touch yourself?"

Liz blushed.

"Are you wet, Liz? Because I am. Just talking to you..."

Liz sank into the couch cushions. "You really want me?"

A deep inhale, a sharp exhale from the other side of the city. "Yes, Liz."

Liz slipped her hand into her pants and gasped when she touched herself again.

"I love hearing you like this," Gretchen whispered.

"Are you?" Liz asked.

"What? Am I what, Liz?"

"Touching yourself?" A whisper, in case her neighbors happened to choose that moment to listen in on her. With her luck, it was likely.

"Yes, Liz. I'm wet for you."

Liz growled in submission. She touched herself and gasped into the phone, "Your hypotheticals suck..."

Gretchen laughed. "Shut up and come with me."


Gretchen said, "No, co-- God, Liz." She laughed and said, "I want you to make yourself come. And I want to hear it."

Liz bit her lip and closed her eyes. She touched herself, rubbing her fingers back and forth over her clit.

"Imagine they're my fingers."

Liz was good at imagining.

"Imagine it's my tongue... inside you..."

Liz was too good. She came with a shout and then clamped her free hand over her mouth. She moaned through her fingers and finally remembered that there was a phone resting on her shoulder. "Fuck."

"Language," Gretchen said.

"Did you...?"

"Not yet."

Liz swallowed and sat up. She pressed her thighs together. "I'd want to see you. I would want to be with you."


"Yeah. I want you to... c-come for me."

"Say it then."

Liz closed her eyes. "Come for me, Gretchen."

Gretchen grunted. "Liz... oh, Liz fucking Lemon..."

Liz moved her feet back and forth on the carpet, her thighs rubbing together as she heard Gretchen huffing and panting in the earpiece. Her skin was warm to the touch, her hand shaking as it held the phone to her cheek. She pictured Gretchen, half-naked, stretched out on her couch, thrusting against her hand as she said Liz's...

"What the hell?!" Liz snapped.

"What, what is it?" Gretchen breathed. She was obviously distracted.

"I think I just came again..."

"I'm going to come, too, Liz..."

Liz wanted to say something sexy, something seductive. She wanted to be sultry and say just the right thing to push Gretchen over the edge. Instead she said, "Okay." She listened to Gretchen's moans, a few sharp cries that dwindled out and then rose in crescendo.

Finally, Gretchen's breathing leveled off and she exhaled a breath into the phone. "Are you still there?"

"I am."

Gretchen swallowed. "So. You think you could handle that? Hypothetically?"

Liz smiled and leaned back against the couch cushion.

Hypothetically, it seemed she could do a lot of things.

The End

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