Title: The Note
Rated: T to be on the safe side
Word count:~2230
Summary: "I just asked Russel for my note. I don't care what you wrote, Jess. You can either tell me or not, it's up to you. But I want you to know how I feel before you took any decision." Post 2.21
Notes: Set post S02E21, "First Date", so, beware the spoilers.
Disclaimers: Nope. If they were mine, this would be happening on the show and not just in the darkest recess of my mind, all right?
As soon as Nick closed the door of his room, reality slapped him in the face with the force of the thunder. He was doing it all wrong, and Jess had been right. And yet, here he was, hiding from her and his feelings, lying to her because of his fears.
Talking with other people was so easy, he realized, as he fell on the floor. Just that afternoon he was ready to take grown-up decisions and be brave. Ask her out and confess what he felt. Life was short, his dad had suddenly died from a day to the next, maybe regretting things and words and actions. He couldn't live with the thought that it could happen the same to him. It was risky, and God knew he hated risks, but he realized that it could be worth it too. They could have a good life. They could be happy. So similar, and yet so different, understanding and complementing each other at perfection.
And yet...
He wondered how drop the bomb on her. He couldn't just knock on her door and spill his guts. There was the chance that she wouldn't believe him. And yet, there was one piece of evidence that he could use. And if he had used it right from the start, they would have never been in that situation to begin with. But he had been that scared! He... Jess was, first thing first, his friend. He didn't want to ruin it with her. He could live- painfully, but he could- with her being just his friend. But he didn't think that he could stand the pity had she refused him. Things would have turned awkward between them, one of them would have left, and the guys would have hate him for life.
And yet, he couldn't take it any longer. He was almost 31, it was time to act as an adult and be a man. He was probably going to suffer the consequences whatever was going to happen, and maybe it was the alcohol in his system doing the talking, but he had to act. He was sick and tired of what ifs and buts and maybes. He didn't want to suddenly die and have regrets, wondering where she was, what she was doing, and what if I told her the truth that night instead of taking the coward way out?
He didn't bother with jacket, nor he readjusted the shirt or the tie. It was pointless. Fancy clothes (too fancy, at least) weren't his thing. That just wasn't him. If she wanted him, she had to accept him for whom and what he was. She knew him like nobody else, faking was useless and stupid. There was much room for improvement, on that much he agreed, but this was who he was, deep down. A man could change just so much for a woman, and if she wanted him... he would be willing to try to better up. But she had to understand first that what she saw was what she would get, and that it was the way he was. Point. It was just that easy.
And either she wanted him... or not.
He sat for hours before Russel's gate, cross legged like he was an hippy, waiting patiently for the older man to arrive. When he did, it was almost four o'clock, and he was alone. In the big car that Jess had called the Batmobile there was no trace of Blondie. Nick barely resisted making comments, even if part of him was curious. Did he sneak out in the middle of the night like Schmidt? Was he in a relationship, and was he coming back at such an unholy hour because he didn't want to inform his daughter of this new development in his life? But mostly, there was something that really, really bugged him, a thought he couldn't stand: how could he accept to be at the side of a blonde silly bimbo after having tasted Jess? She was a smart and talented woman who wasn't scared of living her life, of trying things out. She had been hurt, and yet she had tried, and tried and tried to love once again. Yes, maybe she had the tendency of falling in love a bit too easily, but her heart was full, and she never denied anyone a second chance. Such a smart, funny, beautiful, loving and lovable creature and Russel dated a girl like... like that? Frankly, he felt like he was insulting Jess. Maybe the guy wasn't as smart as he seemed. What was the old saying? Something in the lines of all smoke, no fire? Or something like that anyway...
Russel left the car, and Nick wasted no time. He walked right to the man, and showed him his open palm, with begging eyes. "I don't care what she wrote. Just give me my note"
Russel smiled of a little smile- that damn smile that Nick envied with all his heart, the one that screamed about Russel's power and money, of how comfortable and sure he was in his own skin- and took a piece of paper from his pocket, and gave it to Nick.
"Thanks, man" he told him simply, nodding with his head and shoulders as he carefully folded the note in his pants, making his way to Winston's car humming some song he was quite sure had been struck in his head because of Jess.
As he was already opening the door, he heard the billionaire calling for him. "Ehy Nick. How long have you been waiting here? Sure you don't want some coffee and talk?"
But Nick simply shook his head no: he need to have a talk with Jess, one they had put on hold for way too long, and he couldn't wait any longer. It was already late, almost six o'clock, and he couldn't believe that he had been sitting outside that damn mansion for over four hours, time had been flying thinking about Jess. And now it was time to stop thinking and re-thinking and being scared, and simply act. For once in his life he was going to rely on instinct alone and just feel, like the night he had kissed her for the first time.
No matter the consequences, he had to take a chance: he could lose, but he could also win. And in that last case, victory could be so sweet... as sweet as Jess' mouth on his own.
It was almost a quarter to eight when he finally made it to the loft, and Winston and Schmidt were already sitting in the kitchen area, half asleep, very, very tired, trying to bring a mug of coffee to their lips, and yet failing each time. He had seen them already, once gotten home the night before, and they had been already in that sorry state. For a second he wondered if he could make a joke, make fun of them or maybe just inquire about their adventures-probably of the erotic kind, now that his best friend had come to terms with the fact that CeCe would never, ever marry him- but he immediately talked himself out of it. Right now he needed to have a serious talk with them, he need to march on them and be serious and show them he was a man on a mission who meant business. And if it meant having one of his anger attacks, so be it.
"You two!" he hissed venomously, like he was disgusted with them and he hated them with everything he was.
"Focus and listen to me carefully, because I'll say this only once. I'm sick and tired of having people telling me what I should or I shouldn't do. My family, my ex-girlfriends... and you. I had enough of that. Now, whatever you'll say, I'll march in her room" he continued, invading their personal space and indicating Jess' room. "And I'll tell her how I feel. No matter what you think, all right?"
His affirmation of masculinity was met with just smiles. Bloody Freaking smiles. What, they weren't even going to put on a fight. He had already planned what to say to them in case they didn't agree with him.
"It's ok, Nick. Whatever you'll decide, we'll support you." Winston told him, shrugging like it was nothing and not a life-altering decision he was facing.
"So you agree with me?" He had to make sure. Just in case. With those two, only God knew what they could be up to. Especially Schmidt.
"Oh, no, Nicholas, it's not that. We just don't care any longer. You see, you and Jess were our glue, but now Winston and I have understood that we can function as the bestest of friends even without you."
"Ooo...k" he slowly said, looking at them with suspicion as he made his way to Jess' room; as he lifted his closed fist to knock on her door, he turned one last time, and saw Schmidt showing him his thumbs up as a form of silent encouragement. It wasn't what he had thought he was going to hear, nor the encouragement he was hoping for, but it was going to be enough for now. It had to.
Jess opened after the fourth time he knocked, still half-asleep and so adorable with her flannel pajama in dark blue, so manly and yet so feminine at the same time. She was rubbing her eyes, and it was probably one the less sexy things to do, and yet it was just... breathtaking when done by her.
"Nick?" she tentatively asked, still with a feet in the land of Morpheus, and with a tired, resigned smile, he simply offered her the folded piece of paper, without adding a single word. "is that the note you wrote me?" he simply nodded. "Where's mine? Did you read it?"
"I just asked Russel for my note. I don't care what you wrote, Jess. You can either tell me or not, it's up to you. But I want you to know how I feel before you took any decision."
She unfolded the note, and gasped as she scanned the lines, the unsure and messy calligraphy of her "room-friend" and the weirdly erotic and sensual feel of the dark blue ink from the fountain pen he had used to write down those marvelous words. Just like that, the parking ticket from the restaurant fell on the floor, and she did what he had done that evening, in that same spot, months before.
She grabbed him using the tie, and lowered him until he was at her level, and then she simply attacked him. She devoured his lips, moaning and panting as her tongue licked his lips until he didn't agree to open his mouth. As soon as he started to kiss her back, Jess deepened the contact, getting braver and braver as their tongues danced and battled erotically, her hands in his hair, running through the short brown mass, massaging and tickling his scalp in a way that made him grunt in her mouth.
Nick wasn't idle either, as his hands run on her whole body, discovering her through the soft and thin fabric. At the end, he put his right in her air, grabbing it with strength and yet sweetness, while his left went to the small of her back, pushing her against his body. She gasped in Nick's mouth as she felt his erection press against her, and she giggled. Nick tensed as soon as he heard the sound, remembering her hysteric laughter when she had seen him naked shortly after having moved in with them, but then he recognized it as the sound that it was, the giggle of a girl who really, really wanted the man she was with, and deepened the contact once more.
As soon as he did, a shiver run through her whole being, and an unknown creature, passionate, fiery and needy, took over, and Jess decided to live on want and desire only for a short while. She wasn't one to give up that easily and gave herself away on the first date, but she had known Nick for a long while, he wasn't a stranger she had picked up at a bar. He was her room-mate and her friend, the one who knew her like nobody else did. He was the guy who had written that words down- the words from a song she used to hum when she was feeling in love- and she knew that he meant everything. He had been honest, and had taken a risk because what he felt for her went beyond attraction. She knew what she was supposed to do in that moment, follow the song's advice, her heart, and not tell him how she felt, but show him.
So, smiling malicious and wanton, she parted, and once again grabbing him for the tie, she guided Nick in her room, closing and locking the door at their back, the note still on the floor.
Ready to just show his exactly how she felt about him.
I've tried to talk to you and make you understand, all you have to do is close your eyes and just reach out and touch me. Hold me close, and don't ever let me go.(*)
(*)More than words, Extreme. A/N- as a Mentalist fan, I felt compelled to take inspiration from that song every once in a while.