A/N:Hi! Rachel here! I've been wanting to write a New Girl Fanfiction for a REALLLYYY long time, and since there is an apparent lack of Nick/Jess Fanfics, I decided it was finally time after watching the episode "Table 34." I hope you guys like it :)
"Sam is the kind of guy who fixes things, that you didn't even know were broken. And Nick's the kind of guys who breaks things, that are.., He BREAKS things!"
The small brunette gently shut the door behind her as she walked into her bedroom, poorly lit by only the small lamp on the wooden table next to her bed.
Racking her brain for any logical explanation of what occurred only minutes before, Jess felt the carpet in between her toes, as she walked to her bed, only to collapse onto the comfort of her flannel sheets in a fit of exasperation.
"Mr. Break it". That's what she always called the man across the hallway. He never gave up a chance to try to fix something that wasn't broken, never failing to run it into remission. Whether it was a slightly leaky faucet, or Jess' own scarf, handmade for her grandmother, Nick Miller always found a way to break something.
Glancing at the door through the darkness of the room, Jess laughed. She couldn't believe that Nick Miller got in between her and another great guy.
Her hands reached up to her lips as a sigh escaped from between them. She wanted so badly to be mad at him. She should have been slamming her hands against his door, red faced, demanding a better reason for him ruining every chance she has with a guy. But, Mr. Break It struck again. And she couldn't find it in her heart to be angry with him.
Feeling the round material against her thigh, Jess realized she was still in jeans and a sweater, and rose from her bed to put on her pajamas, with no plans to sleep in the clothes she wore that she threw on after coming home that evening. As her fingers grasped for the soft comfort of her red flannel bottoms that were strewn across her chair this morning, a glimpse of olive green yarn caught her eye.
Lifting up the tattered, lame excuse for a scarf in her small hands, Jess smiled, recalling the night that Nick had "broken" her grandmother's scarf that she had spent all day making.
Setting down the half-drinkin wine glass she had been holding, Jess rubbed her temples. After spending four hours, on the worn out sofa, knitting a scarf that was already supposed to be finished, Jess was a little more than peeved when she realized that she now had to create a new one.
With Dirty Dancing, her favorite movie for times like these, drowning out all other sound in the loft, Jess, once again, picked up the knitting needles, resting on the oak table, and got back to work.
'Loop one, Purl two. Cross twice and ball under.' Creak. Came footsteps behind the now frustrated brunette, but being so focused she didn't notice the scruffy man in a blue flannel walk up behind her. 'Purl twice and cast off.' Creak.
Surprised is putting Jess' reaction lightly as wad of olive green yarn, haphazardly strung together, fell lightly around her shoulders.
The climax of Dirty Dancing was muffled by Jess' screeching as she whipped her head around, assuming that she was going to be killed with yarn. Although her favorite movie of all time was playing in front of her, Jess paid no mind to Jennifer Gray pouring her heart out to Patrick Swayze, when she locked eyes with Nick Miller. Looking up at the man in front of her, Jess noticed that, despite the expression, most resembling a turtle, on his face, there was still regret in his eyes.
"I'm sorry Jess." mumbled Nick, and although she knew that she was supposed to be mad at him, when she noticed the Bandaids on his hands, and fingered the green yarn around her neck, Jess realized that there was no way she could be.
"Come on and watch the end of Dirty Dancing with me, Turtleface."
Because although he infuriated her to no end, Nick Miller had a bad habit, of always being the one to make her smile in the end.
She gingerly rested the green pile of yarn on the chair where she had picked it up from moments before and layed down on her bed.
Tiptoeing down the creaky loft floor, Jess made her way to the bathroom, the next morning, to find, none other than Mr. Break It, himself, standing over the sink, with his toothpaste and brush in hand. Taking in his light blue sweater and flannel sweats, she realized that this was their climax.
The ball was in her court now, and she had to make a decision: To shut the door and run to her room, damning herself to awkward moments and a future free of Mr. Break It.
Or: To walk into that bathroom and pick up her toothbrush, inviting a future full of Mr. Break It. A future with many more broken faucets, and destroyed scarves. A future filled to her breaking point, with Nick Miller.
Taking a breath, she stepped through the doorway.
"Good Morning, Turtle Face."
A/N: Good? Bad? Let us know! Can't wait to read your guys' reviews! 'Til Next Time!