Nick Miller was a mess. Excitement, nerves, anxiety. They had been flowing through him like electricity all night. Trench coat Nick had made one last play, and old Nick had gotten an amazing, unbelievable moment out of it. But he knew that if he talked to Jess the spell would be broken. She would be mad, or worse, amused about the whole situation. The pool of possibility was terrifying, and as long as he didn't talk to her the kiss existed in a nice little capsule free of consequences.

So he avoided her. He moonwalked away from her in the hallway, he even tagged along with Schmidt to the convention so that he would be out of the loft all day. And then he saw her. Brilliant plans backfired. More panic, more awkward moonwalking. Except this time someone came after him.

"Hey, look, I kissed Jess" he admitted. He didn't laugh or claim some kind of victory. He just said it and waited for the other shoe to drop. "Say what you're gonna say".

Winston nut-checked him and Nick had to laugh a little then. And possibly cry. But he knew that he deserved it. "I thought that's what you were gonna say".

"I don't want a new roommate"

"She's not moving out" Nick haltingly replied, shaking his head. Oh god, was it really that bad? He turned the thought over in his mind. He'd done plenty of stupid, insensitive things since Jess had lived with them, hell they all had. But if she could stick it out after Schmidt started sleeping with her best friend, then he doubted she would be leaving because of his one moment of weakness. He was probably owed another shot like the one Winston had given him, but he would take it in stride.

"I'm not talking about her, hell no not her! I'm talking about you!" Winston countered. "When this thing blows up in your face, and it will blow up in your face, you're the one moving out. You think I like having you as a roommate?"

Nick's expression changed then and he only half paid attention to the rest of the speech. Winston was right, this was going to blow up in his face. Nick Miller, turning lemonade into lemons since 1981. He was going to screw this up, there was no way around it. And not just in a "make Jess mad at you and get nut-checked" kind of way. Because Winston understood what Nick was too scared to admit, that he wanted more than just a stolen kiss in the hallway. And Winston knew what Nick was like when he was hung-up on a girl. But he also knew how much all of them cared about Jess and how important it was that she stay, which he had seen fit to fill Nick in on in detail. And they were silverfish, not centipedes. Big difference.

"Just apologize and make it right" Winston finished.

"Okay, that's what I'll do" Nick sighed, resigned.

Because what else could he do? So what if she had thought about him sexually once. So what if the kiss was a damn fairy-tale. Jess was dating a handsome doctor who had given her the best sex of her life. Nick had that world's worst track-record when it came to beautiful women. And this was so much more, she was so much more, but because of that it had to be so much less. Not the moment when he couldn't help himself anymore. Not the embodiment of every emotion he was ill-equipped to vocalize. Not a promise of things to come. Just the ending of a game, a moment to sweep under the rug.

Nick did apologize. And he did a bang-up job projecting some of his anxiety onto her. He knew how to push her buttons and he used it to his advantage, shielding himself from probing questions by turning them around on her first. But it worked too well. She felt like she had to prove something and told Dr. Sam. And Nick got hit again.

That night he was way off his game. He usually did such a good job comforting her. He was just having such a hard time not jumping for joy because Sam was gone. So Nick danced for joy instead, under the guise of cheering Jess up. But the more she cried the more the elation wore off and he remembered his conversation with Winston. This will blow up in your face. So Nick accepted the fact that even though she was single, he was still a screw up. And he still needed to do the right thing.

"Look, Jess. I'm sorry, okay? That I kissed you. And I shouldn't have done it because it was obviously a mistake, and now you're crying. And I won't do it again"

There. The issue was closed. Everything could go back to normal. Nick allowed himself to be real with her again, because wanting to kiss her wasn't worth screwing up their friendship. And screwing things up wasn't a risk, it was an unavoidable inevitability. So the banter returned, and he was determined to push down that little part of himself that screamed it would be different with her. And he would've done it, too, except he made up his mind to give her a hug by way of a peace offering.

There was half a second, just before he put his arms around her, when he looked at her right in those beautiful – twice the size of normal – eyes, and he saw the same mixture of fear and hope that he was feeling mirrored there. He had been antagonizing her all day about the kiss meaning something to her, but he didn't really believe it did until that moment. It took everything he had not to change trajectory and kiss her again, because he had just told her he wouldn't. They both sensed that something had somehow shifted. His eyes went wide at the awkwardness of the situation and they both rushed some strange militaristic goodnights.

Nick realized that the little part of him that said they would be different, be better, together, well maybe it wasn't so little. And maybe it had a companion somewhere in Jess' thoughts. And it was definitely not ready to give up.

"Glad everything's back to normal around here."