Title: The Three Paths of Jack Donaghy

Author: Mindy

Rating: T, sexual references

Disclaimer: Characters are property Tina Fey, NBC et al. Lyrics by Ben Lee are borrowed without permission. No money made etc.

Spoilers: Up until and including "I Do Do".

Pairings: Jack/Avery, Jack/Nancy, Jack/Liz, Liz/Carol

Summary: He'll always wonder about that unopened door.

I.

You kissed me slow, it happened way too fast

I told myself there's no way it would last

Is this how love's supposed to feel?

Is this now love's supposed to feel?

Their wedding day was the happiest day of his life. The most extravagant, the most exciting day he'd ever experienced. Avery arranged everything to perfection. Following his spontaneous proposal, she'd lost no time hiring the best wedding planner in the city to get the job done right and on time. She insisted they schedule the event before she started to lose her "incredibly taut figure" and Jack could not have agreed more. After all his anguish and indecision, he couldn't wait to be married to Avery. He couldn't wait to start their new life together. Their wedding was held in New York's ornate Gotham Hall with over five hundred guests attending, including friends, family, distinguished colleagues, society must-haves and the media. The honeymoon would have to be postponed to a later yet-to-be-determined date due to career commitments they both had. But Jack was relieved to have found a woman who not only understood but also shared his unwavering passion for his business pursuits.

They settled into their domestic routine quickly and easily. In some ways, not much had changed for him. Avery moved into his place just prior to the wedding. Each morning, she woke to go for a run or to the gym. Good weather or bad, she was out there, keeping it tight as Lemon would say. Even when she started to show, Avery was still up long before he was, committed to keeping herself camera-ready and at the top of her game. She generally came through the door as he was reading the paper and finishing his breakfast. Sometimes he was done before she even started. But sometimes she would sit at the end of the long table and eat a grapefruit while they discussed any overnight changes to the stock market. Then they took a car into work, sharing some time together, although often he would be on the phone, or they both would be, or Avery would be proofing some drafts, jotting notes in the margins and holding up a finger until it was okay for him to talk.

Work stayed pretty much the same for both of them. The same shenanigans tended to interrupt his ordered days, prompting Jack to head down to the sixth floor where Lemon would be huffing and puffing and rambling about something or someone. He always knew how to solve her problems and continued to effortlessly do so. In the evenings, he didn't stick around as much. He didn't stay to watch TGS from the studio floor or have a drink with a disgruntled and lonely colleague. He generally headed home, with some work to complete. He wasn't sure why as Avery was never there. The apartment was always empty when he returned, except for the help. But it gave him time to finish off his own work before settling in with a drink to watch Avery's show. She preferred not to be distracted by his presence on set. But Jack watched religiously, shaking his head and marvelling at his wife's acid tongue, mental agility and sex appeal.

He was usually in bed before she returned from the studio, either hyped up or irked by the day's show. Generally the former. As she undressed and walked naked into the shower, she would ask Jack what he thought of this guest or if he caught that comeback or whether her hair looked too shiny or her lipstick too slutty. After this debrief and her nightly, extensive beauty routine, horny from the pregnancy hormones, she would crawl into bed, ready for sex. Mostly Jack would eagerly oblige, though he did fall asleep on her more than once. On these occasions, Avery just slapped his shoulder, got on top and rode him until she was satisfied. Then she'd turn out the light and sleep like the dead. The bigger and rounder she got, the more this became their fall back position. Which Jack did not mind. But Avery disliked him stroking her tummy as he pumped inside her or staring at her huge breasts as she rocked with orgasm. It broke the mood for her. She preferred to ignore her pregnant state when they were intimate. In fact, the only time she seemed to truly relish her pregnancy was in public.

Nine months and three weeks after they met, Avery gave birth to a little boy. They'd known it was going to be a boy. Neither had wanted to be surprised. They both preferred to have all available facts, they both wanted to be fully prepared for their new arrival. And there was certainly never any question on the name. John Francis Junior. Johnny, for now. The birth was smooth and simple. Avery had a scheduled C-section and was back at work the following week. Jack had to admire her endless verve and career commitment. And objectively, he was convinced she'd provided him with the most handsome baby boy he'd ever seen in his life. Johnny had his thick dark hair, bright blue eyes and Avery's perfectly round mouth. They hired a highly recommended foreign nanny named Natasha who occasionally brought Johnny to visit his parents at their workplace. The first time she did, Jack beamed proudly as all the women in the writer's room gathered around, cooing over his newborn son. All the men congregated in the kitchen area, watching from afar. "Nice rugrat," was Frank's comment. To which they all nodded and agreed.

After they'd all had a turn with him, finishing with Lemon, Natasha stayed to be chatted up by whoever of the men dared approach her while he and Lemon took the elevator up to his office, his son cradled in her arms. He talked the whole way up, while she stayed silent at his side. It was only when he was sitting at his desk that he looked over at her, perched on the edge of his sofa with Johnny that he realized how uncharacteristically quiet she'd become. She didn't even notice him stop talking mid-sentence. She just rocked back and forth very gently, her eyes on the baby's face. Jack couldn't read her expression, it was such an odd, contradictory mix. It was as though she was simultaneously the happiest and saddest he'd ever seen her.

When Johnny was six months old, Avery announced that it was time for them to try for another child. The first one had been unplanned and inconvenient so she wanted the second one to be on her terms. Or their terms. Also, she wanted a little girl and would prefer all her child bearing to be out of the way before she turned thirty-five. So they started having twice as much sex. She would shake him awake each morning so he could start the day by hopefully impregnating her. Avery would then lie on her back, feet in the air for several minutes while Jack dropped back off to sleep. Then she would go for her customary morning run. Each night, after she came home and before they both fell asleep, they would try again. It was simple sex, not unenjoyable, but it was more like they were working to a schedule, working towards a goal. Occasionally, it felt like a chore to Jack or it created tension and tiredness in their marriage bed. But Avery insisted the results would be worth it. She was a woman on a mission, complete with a detailed action plan, complex graphs of all sorts and plenty of research to back her up whenever her husband might question what they were doing and why.

That's when his fantasises about Natasha the Norwegian Nanny began. Not that he ever acted on such desires or would even consider cheating on his wife. Jack just craved a little simplicity, a little release, a little pure pleasure. Sex was usually his refuge and release. But with Avery, it had become stressful, passionless. It was simply a stage they were going through though, he was sure of it. Avery told him that everything would be better once she got pregnant, after the baby was born and they could get back to normal. And he believed her. But she was not too pleased when she returned from her daily run early one morning to find him beating off in the shower, panting another woman's name. She told him crossly that he was wasting valuable sperm, which he did not have infinite reserves of at his age. Then she didn't talk to him for three whole days. Not even when she made him hard then made him penetrate her until he ejaculated.

Soon after, an opportunity arose to visit the Kabletown affiliates in Tokyo and Jack volunteered to go. Privately, he was relieved. After being alone for so many years, marriage was much harder than he remembered. He needed a little time to himself, a little time to gather his thoughts. And he wanted to get one of those cute kimonos for Johnny. While in Japan, he also picked up a Japanese language edition of Lemon's newest contribution to the world of women's self-help, a follow-up to her past success, ingeniously entitled Man Still No Good. Leafing through the pages gave him a good laugh on the trip home and he was pleased that he'd been able to help her find her feet in a new market. Particularly as TGS was close to cancellation. Kabletown was not a fan of hit and miss comedy, nor of anything that took money to produce but didn't generate much return revenue.

When Jack returned from his Tokyo trip it was as though Avery had known he'd secretly wanted to get away, that he'd put off returning for as long as he could. All sex ceased, whether it was for the purposes of procreation or pleasure. She'd also hired a new nanny in his absence, a young man named Joseph who adored Johnny and vice versa. Jack didn't care about this change. It was better for him not to feel tempted. And he was hardly in the mood to fantasise anyway. Especially as, since returning to their routine he started to see the gaps in his and Avery's life together. The things that before used to charm him about their side-by-side existence now bothered him deeply. Like how they never woke up together or ate breakfast together, or even liked the same breakfast. They never felt the need to communicate during the day, there were no quick phone calls to murmur 'I love you', no stolen long lunches or spontaneous office trysts. Avery never once minded when work took precedence over their marriage or family. But Jack started to wish she would.

He started to feel like they were just separate ships passing in the night. Or like Avery was a glorious, streamlined steamship and he was the distant coast, waiting endlessly for her to dock. They never seemed to be on the same page, or in the same place for very long. The damned dining table they sat at seemed to get longer every day until he had to strain to hear her say, between delicate bites of her grapefruit, that he shouldn't be eating all that bacon or drinking all that coffee. Down his end of the table, Jack stopped asking her about articles in the morning paper, stopped asking whether she'd heard of the latest merger or some brewing corporate scandal. He stopped asking simply because he always knew the answer. Avery moved in the same circles he did and heard exactly the same business gossip he heard everyday. Jack knew her opinion before even asking. Because her opinion was virtually the same as his, every single time. They'd always had similar views, which he used to interpret as a sign that they were perfect for one another. But he'd begun to notice that he could predict nearly every sentence that came out of Avery's perfectly proportioned mouth. He'd begun to feel that such easy congruity was not so ideal. It left very little to talk about and left Jack feeling just a little bored with his new wife.

Beneath the surface, he began to long for other things, things he'd experienced with prior lovers. He began to romanticise those past relationships. He longed for a warm body to wake up to. He longed for the comfort of talking in hushed voices with his bed partner at the end of each day, laughing about the day's events as their bodies both slowed down to sleep. Avery never slowed down or stopped, and seemed to resent him if he did. And that mean laugh he'd fallen for began to occur less and less. Jack started to feel like he was in an incarnation of his first marriage. Every night that they weren't work, and sometimes even after work, there was a gala to attend, an opening to enhance, a dinner to grace. Every weekend was some fabulous event they needed to attend where they would preen and circulate, posing as the perfect couple. Those were good times though, some of their best. He and Avery performed well together. They presented a united front, an impeccable image, complete with perfectly timed banter and perfectly matched smiles. Jack always carried a photo of Johnny with him so he could whip it out at such gatherings to show everyone just how great they had it. Sometimes he even found himself believing in their act, smiling fondly at his wife and thinking that they really did have it all.

The photo he carried with him had been taken by Lemon who'd been a great help whenever Joseph was unavailable. Avery would often drop Johnny off at her office where Liz had a whole corner set up as his play area. Which he rarely stayed in, preferring to wreak havoc on the writer's room and the writers in it. He seemed particularly enamoured of Frank who was bewildered by the child's curious affection. Liz had a theory that it was because he looked like a much hairier version of Mr Potato Head. After TGS was suddenly cancelled mid-season, Liz became even more available and more willing to help whilst distracting herself from work woes. Avery's stock had begun to soar, her schedule packed with appearances and meetings and interviews and photo shoots. So during that time, Jack often came home to find Lemon happily babysitting his son, both of them covered in food and slobber and smiles. She took him for walks, read him books, gave him baths, changed his dirty diapers, crawled around on the floor with him and was present to see Johnny take his first steps towards his father before falling on his butt and crying. Jack watched as she swept him up and covered him in kisses, the tears quickly disappearing. Shortly after, Johnny said his first word. Dad. His second word was Liz. Or close enough to it. This put an abrupt end to their playdates. Especially after Avery witnessed how fiercely Johnny cried and objected to being taken from Lemon's arms and held in his mother's.

This was when Jack's wife decided it was time they finally took their long-awaited honeymoon. Without any helpers. They both took two weeks off work as soon as they could manage and went to Europe. The first week was rocky with a teething baby who was suddenly separated from the only two people who had given him constant affection and a sense of security. Luckily, Jack had been paying attention. He'd noticed the way Joseph would feed Johnny from the bottle and cover his baby bottom in balm with each nappy change. He'd watched how Lemon would distract him with toys as she slipped his clothes on, a task that she made look far easier than it was when dealing with a tiny, squirming, uncooperative body. He'd asked Joseph before they left when to let him sleep and when to wake him up and he remembered the songs Lemon crooned to him when he was tired and cranky.

Johnny adjusted in no time. So did Avery. She began to enjoy being a mom. She began to slow down. And Jack began to relax. He didn't know he'd been so tense, how much he'd needed a holiday. They made love a few times, in between sightseeing and being parents. And for the first time since they'd met, Jack got to wake up with his wife, feel her warm, relaxed body against his, run his hands over her curves, smell her hair and her morning breath and mutter sexy nothings in her ear. Before the baby interrupted them. Which was their cue that the day had began. That was when they got up and had breakfast. Although one morning, Jack just brought Johnny into bed with them. He couldn't believe how happy he felt that morning. It was like the happy family picture he'd dreamt of as a child had come true. It was like some fantasy, one they had been telling the world they lived. And now they were really living it. They were finally where he'd always wanted them to be, always thought they could be. And everything would be better when they returned, he was certain of it. It would be perfect from now on. This holiday would be the making of them. One of many happy family trips to come. At last, they were on the same page.

Two days after they returned, Avery told him she wanted a divorce. She didn't give him much of an explanation. She said she'd tried. She said their trip had been the last chance, their final opportunity to work it out, start afresh. And she'd wanted it to work, she really did. But it wasn't going to. She looked at him like he was insane when he said how perfect things had been between them from the start, that they could still have that perfection every day. Avery shook her head and told him that life was never perfection. Life was not a holiday. Love was not a fantasy. They had never been perfect and he was deluding himself if that's what he was trying to capture. She told him she'd never wanted this life for herself. Maybe she'd thought she had. But she hadn't been ready to become a wife and a mother all at once. And it was so different to what she'd imagined, so much more difficult than she'd anticipated. It was simply not for her. At least, not now. Not with him. Her career was her passion, her colleagues her family. And that's the way she wanted it, it's the way it had to be at this stage in her life. She still had time to have a family, if she chose to. But the opportunities she was getting in her professional life would not come around again. She would never forgive herself, after all her hard work and sacrifice, if she didn't give it everything she had. And she couldn't do that with a husband and a baby to care for.

Jack tried to convince her otherwise. Over the next few weeks, he tried charming her, wooing her back into adoring him. He sent her flowers and presents and love letters, he left long husky voicemails on her phone. The last time they spoke before the divorce was in her studio, between set-ups for the promos she was busy shooting. Since she wouldn't return his calls or give him any response, he ambushed her. It was a last ditch effort to salvage what he already sensed could not be salvaged. But he had to try. For himself and for his young son, he tried. Avery was immoveable. She looked at him with pity, told him he should have custody of Johnny and she would visit when she could. Then she went back to work, her eyes moist with tears she would not allow to fall. The makeup lady dabbed at her face a few times as Avery took her seat behind her desk, under the bright lights and in front of the camera. And like magic, the tears were gone. Vanished before his eyes in a single moment. As was his wife and the life Jack had dreamt of.

Jack did claim custody of Johnny in the divorce, becoming a single, working dad. The sort that rushed home at the end of each day to kiss his son before he went to sleep. He kept Joseph on as his child-rearing wingman, wanting to give his son as much stability as possible. And Lemon, having set herself up as a freelance writer of pithy magazine articles and short comic tales, helped out a lot. She took special delight in feeding Johnny - or more accurately, having various meals flung at her, at last having a good reason to be covered in bits of food, which she did not mind picking off herself and nibbling on. Her presence also saved Jack from feeling lonely and too sorry for himself. But not all the time.

At night when his son was asleep and everyone else had gone home, Jack sat alone and pondered his fate. Sometimes he still watched Avery's show, either attempting to recall the good times they'd had or seeking to mentally unravel where it all went wrong. He wondered if it could have been different, if they could have done better, tried harder, lasted longer. Or whether they were ridiculous to have even tried. He wondered whether, being so like Avery himself, he should have known better than to try to tether her to a life he too would've wanted to be free of at her age. Especially when he could see so clearly that where she was most alive and most happy was in front of that camera. Sometimes he would pull out his old yearbook, staring at the black and white photo of a teenage Nancy Donovan with a freckly nose and gleaming rows of white teeth. On those nights, Jack had a few too many drinks and wondered whether he had married the right woman in the first place. And whether, given a second chance, he might do it all differently.

TBC...