A while back I wrote a story called "Fallout", a little thing about a hiccup in the Nick/Jess relationship. I threw in something about Nick inheriting a very small apartment building from his Dad as a bit of a red herring, but I always thought I might do something with it at some point. We'll see how this goes. So, this isn't exactly where we are in the current season. Schmidt still lives in the loft and Coach hasn't reappeared. The Cece/Schmidt stuff has hit the fan, but the larger issue of their own fallout remains. Going to take a step away from the Nick/Jess drama here… at least for a while. Thank you for giving this one a shot.

Nick climbed from the passenger seat of Winston's grey SUV and shut the door behind him. He stretched his arms far above his head and grimaced. In a single motion he swung his arms around, pushed up the sleeves of his red flannel, leaned back against the SUV, and folded his arms. As the driver's side door clunked closed behind him, he thought to himself, "Am I really doing this?"

Winston walked around the back of the car and joined Nick. He removed his sunglasses and tucked them into the collar of his grey polo. He leaned against the car beside Nick, staring straight ahead. After a moment, he spoke, echoing Nick's own thoughts.

"So, you're really doing this, huh?"

Nick turned to Winston and gave him a nod. He might not have been able to convince himself that he was doing the right thing, but that didn't mean he couldn't try his best to convince everyone else. Winston accepted his nod and they both turned their attention back to the building that stood in front of them. A crumbling, concrete path traveled from the sidewalk just beyond Winston's curbside Foscapay, through a small but densely overgrown lawn, up to the front stoop of a rather plain, three story brick building. Despite being three stories, the building was not large. The stoop to the right of the building led to a heavy red door set behind a flimsy mesh screen door. The rest of the façade was simple: a small window on the second and third floors directly above the front door and large, but widely segmented bay windows at the center of all three floors.

"So, what do you think?" Nick asked sheepishly.

As Winston surveyed the building, he couldn't help but notice that, as the building got taller, the respective levels fell further and further into dis-repair. While the first story merely looked unimpressive and dingy, the windows of the second story were cracked in some places, and clearly broken in others. The windows of the third story were completely boarded up, and the bricks at that level were commonly broken in the spots where they weren't missing altogether. Winston couldn't help but think to himself that a simple "Nick Fix" wasn't going to get the job done here.

"I think you got your work cut out for you," Winston replied. "But you know if you need us, we got your back. Ain't that right, Schmidt? Schmidt?"

Nick and Winston stepped onto the curb and turned to face the car. Winton stepped toward it and gave a couple knocks to the backseat window.

"You can come out now, Schmidt."

"You've got to be kidding me…" Nick started, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Get out here, Schmidt!"

Winston grabbed the door handle and flung the door open, revealing Schmidt, curled in the fetal position in the backseat of the car, his head covered with a red blanket. He slowly lifted his head from the seat and squinted his eyes as he looked out of the car towards his waiting roommates.

"Is it safe?" he asked.

"Schmidt, it's never not been safe," Winston replied, shaking his head.

"So we're good? We're not in Compton anymore?"

"We were never in Compton," Nick said, his anger rising.

"I know what I saw, Nick. And that street sign clearly said Compton."

"That wasn't a street sign, dummy," Winston said, grabbing Schmidt's arm and pulling him from the car.

"I know what I saw!" Schmidt protested, angrily yanking his arm free.

"You saw a billboard, you idiot," Nick said, slamming the car door before Schmidt could try to dive back inside. "A billboard for a city councilwoman. A city councilwoman named Sarah Compton. We're seven minutes from the loft, for crying out loud."

Schmidt furrowed his brow as he thought over the plausibility of Nick's statement. He nervously smoothed out some of the wrinkles of his blue and white checkered button up before looking about his surroundings. His eyes widened as they fixed upon a green sedan parked about 300 feet down the street from where they were standing.

"Compton or not, this place is clearly not safe!" he said, pointing towards the car.

"What are you talking…" Winston started.

"No, just let him get it all out," Nick calmly interrupted.

"Just look at that vehicle! That is clearly the preferred transportation of a hoodlum! What is that, an El Camino?"

"That's a 1996 Buick Regal, Schmidt. It's what I drove in College. It's nicer than the car I drive now," Nick said, as he and Winston turned and started walking towards the apartment. Nick went into his pocket, retrieved a set of keys, and climbed the steps to the red door. He pulled the screen open as Winston joined him, holding the door while Nick looked for the right key.

"Oh…" Schmidt said, realizing that Nick was right. He spun around a few times, again, surveying the neighborhood. His eyes darted between the neighboring lots, some inhabited by buildings not unlike Nick's, and some taken up by small duplexes.

"I'm still not sold, guys. I mean, look at these lawns. What is that? Perennial Rye? Pfft. And you can tell none of these yards have been properly maintained. They clearly have not been watered in ages."

"Why do you know so much about grass, Schmidt?" Winston said.

"Well, that's… that's actually a funny…"

"Don't care," Nick called back as he turned the key and popped the door open. "We're going inside. You can come in or you can stay outside. Your call."

Schmidt frowned as Nick and Winston disappeared into the apartment. He looked around a moment before darting down the narrow pathway, up the stairs, and through the front door.

The three roommates stood quietly inside the first story living room. The inside of the building was every bit as charming as the outside. The only furnishings in the room were a cheap card table flanked by two dusty folding chairs, and an old ceiling fan that was missing two blades and the light bulb cover.

"You just… kind of have to use your imagination," Nick said.

"Who do you think I am, J.K. Rowling?" Schmidt cracked, earning a slap to the shoulder from Winston.

"I'm serious," Nick said, pacing around the room. "I mean, it's not huge, but it's not tiny. The bay windows are great, just need a little tinkering. And look! Shelving built directly into the walls!"

"Yeah, just appears to be missing a few, you know… shelves," Schmidt quipped again.

"Schmidt, will you…" Winston scolded.

"Look, guys. I know this is going to be a lot of work. Work you guys don't think I have in me. But this time… I think this time is going to be different."

Winston and Schmidt looked at each other and nodded. Winston walked over to the shelving and ran his fingers over the middle shelf and Schmidt walked over to the window and looked out on the street.

"It could be worse," Winston said. "I'm sure some basic cleaning will go a long way towards making it look a bit more… habitable."

"Yeah," Schmidt said, turning to face Nick. "This looks bad, but we haven't even started working yet."

"We?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, we," Schmidt said, stepping towards Nick with a smile. "Like Winston said… we got your back."

Nick and Schmidt high fived and brought each other in for a bro-hug. Winston awkwardly tried to join in at the last second, but the moment had passed. Nick and Schmidt had broken apart, leaving Winston to awkwardly run his hands over his hair and act like nothing strange had happened. Nick and Schmidt looked at him questioningly.

"So," Winston spit out. "What is this? Two bed, two bath?"

"Each unit is two bed, one and a half bath," Nick said.

"Well, how about a tour?" Schmidt asked.

"Now we're talking," Nick said, clapping his hands. "Come, let's start in the kitchen."

Nick led them through a slightly arched doorway into the adjacent kitchen. The room was generous with a rather large window that allowed for quite a bit of natural light. There was a dual sink, a four burner electric stove, and an old but seemingly functional Frigidaire off in the corner.

"This actually isn't half bad," Winston remarked. "Good space, the appliances look… decent."

"Yeah, and you guys haven't seen the best part yet," Nick said, gesturing towards a small door towards the back of the room. "Check out the huge pantry!"

Nick flung the door open and smiled widely at his roommates. He noted with concern the confused looks on both of their faces as their eyes seemed to settle on the floor of the pantry. Schmidt looked particularly confused, but Winston's face slowly spread into a big smile. Before Nick could turn to see what they were looking at, Winston spoke.

"Heh-heh. Looks like you've got some squatters, Nick."

Nick stepped back from the door and joined Schmidt and Winston in the middle of the kitchen. Alarm took hold of him as his brain slowly connected the dots of what his eyes were seeing. Schmidt was seemingly on the same page as he and Nick both started to slowly back away from the pantry. Winston, however, showed no such alarm. He instead crouched down to get a closer look, ignoring Nick and Schmidt grabbing at his shoulders.

"Aw, hey little kitties," he said, smiling. "How'd you guys get in here? Is this your home? Better hope the big bag landlord doesn't raise the rent." Winston finally stood and turned to speak to Nick and Schmidt. "Cute little guys, aren't they? So many of them. I wonder… guys?"

Nick and Schmidt were nearly out of the kitchen by the time Winston's eyes caught up with them. They looked on in horror as further confusion spread across Winston's face.

"Guys, what the…"

"Those aren't kitties, Winston," Nick whispered, still backing away from the pantry.

"What are you talking about?"

"Look at their tails, dummy," Schmidt said.

Winston turned back towards the pantry and shrugged. One of the 'kitties' sprung from the pantry and skittered off toward the far corner of the kitchen, away from the roommates. Another followed shortly after, then another. As Winston watched them quickly and awkwardly file out of the pantry, he finally noticed what Nick and Schmidt had noticed much earlier: the white stripe that ran down the back of each of the 'kitties'. Winston's eyes doubled in size as he realized the situation he found himself in. He turned back to Nick and Schmidt to find that they had made it nearly halfway through the living room, nearing the front door. As the skittering of the claws on the floor behind him crescendoed, Winston finally lost his cool.

"Skunks!" he yelled, launching himself full speed towards the front door.

Cece lay on Jess' bed, a fashion magazine spread out over the brightly colored comforter. She flipped the magazine closed and glanced at her watch impatiently. She sat up, swung her jean clad legs over the side of the bed, and adjusted her silver top, annoyed.

"Come on, Jess. If we're going to do this, we'd better do this before I change my mind."

"Just a sec!" Jess' voice called from inside her closet. "Just… want… to…. There!"

Jess stepped out from behind the sliding brown door and spread her arms wide. She was wearing a pair of white washed, oversized overalls over a blue t-shirt, her hair tied into a simple pony tail, her bangs parting slightly at the middle of her forehead.

"So? What do you think?" she asked excitedly.

"Jess, they're overalls. Just like the last pair, and the pair before. They're all just… overalls. But while we're on the subject, why do you have so many overalls?"

"What, these were all the rage in sixth grade."

"That doesn't really answer my question."

"Besides, there's going to be lots of cleaning, and moving, and lifting over at Nick's building. I want to have room for my goods," she said, looking down as she gave her shoulders a little shimmy.

"Can't argue with that logic," Cece said rolling her eyes.

Jess frowned, shuffled over to the bed, and plopped down beside her friend.

"You sure you're up for this? We can do it another time if you want."

"I dunno," Cece replied. "It's been four months, Jess. I think I need to just… let it go."

"You don't need to rush anything, Cece. I mean, this is a big deal."

"I know. I just… he's your roommate, he's a part of your life."

"He is."

"And I can't expect you to just walk away from him."

"You can't."

"So I just need to suck it up, and…"

"But on your own timetable. Look, I can't just completely turn my back Schmidt. Trust me, I've thought about it. But as mad as I am at him, I just… can't."

"And I'm not asking you to."

"I know. And I'm not asking you to do anything you're not ready to."

Cece gave Jess a quiet nod and a forced smile. She wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her hand and stood up.

"Besides," Cece said. "Now that you and his best friend are so disgustingly in love with each other, I can't expect you to hold a grudge."

"Cece."

"Oh come on, Jess. I know you aren't tired of hearing that said out loud, yet."

"No…" Jess said, failing to stifle the smile in her eyes. "I guess not."

"So… how is all of that going?"

"Really great, actually. Like, really great. Better than I ever could have imagined. Better than it's ever gone before. With anyone. Ever."

"I gotta say, Jess," Cece said, smiling wide. "That is music to my ears."

Jess smiled to herself a moment, shoved her hands in her pockets, and stared at her feet. She exhaled, deeply satisfied, before pulling a yellow bandana from her pocket. She raised the bandana to her head and pulled it tight over her head.

"What do you think?" she asked. "Can I pull this off?"

"Nope. Not at all. Not even a little."

I guess this is kind of an odd place to stop. But, in theory, we are just getting started here. Hope you enjoyed it at least a little bit. Thank you for taking the time.