A.N: Hey! Thanks to all the reviewers who pointed out the format issues... My computer was malfunctioning! I know simple grammar, I promise ;)

Jess is kind of pretty. It sounds douchey that Nick's only just realized that because she's been living with him for a few months now, but in reality, he only really tolerated her because women are supposed to be awesome folders (which apparently isn't true, because Jess has trouble with geometry and can't figure out how to match up the two sides of a shirt.) Schmidt knows it, though. Nick thinks. But Schmidt tries to hook up with every girl within a one-hundred mile radius, so does that really count? Nick doesn't think so.

Anyways, it's that wonderful time of the year when children are allowed to interact with strangers, steal their candy, and ignore the fact that they may very well be pedophiles, and Jess has been invited to a costume party. Nick knows this because she asked him to help her choose between her Albert Einstein costume and her King Henry VIII costume. (Take his word for it-neither were that flattering.) He told her the Einstein costume because it makes her look slightly skinnier than Henry does. She hugged him, which felt weirdly good, because that was her favorite too, and they forgot all about this party except for when Jess bought a pile of candy and asked Schmidt to please hand it out to innocent little kids, and he told her that he would hand it out to his not-so-innocent sex buddy of the day instead. Until yesterday.

"Lily called. She's the one throwing the party, if you didn't get that." Nick looked up momentarily from the cereal box he was reading.

"Does that have anything to do with you re-watching Dirty Dancing again?" he asked, because Patrick Swayze's voice was getting annoying fast.

"Why do you assume that everything within my group of buddies is totally depressing and makes me watch Dirty Dancing? Maybe Dirty Dancing is like, my form of porn, except that I watch it in the middle of the living room instead of in my room on the high-def Macbook that I… can't… afford…"

"Mascara is running down your face," Nick reminded her. Maybe she should be a raccoon for Halloween instead. Hehe. Isn't he just hilarious?

"Oh." Jess studied the floor, wiping her eyes awkwardly and examining her thumb to see just how much makeup was smeared under her eyes.

"So. What happened?" Nick surprised himself by feeling a small, protective twinge. Jess shouldn't have to cry. She's not the type who should ever be upset. Besides, her huge eyes look creepy when they're all puffy and red.

"Spencer's coming to the party. With…" She sighed dramatically. "Michelle the mermaid," she announced. "And she's being a mermaid because I told her she has a mermaid name. And Spencer still has his luscious, gorgeous hair that he's gonna flip all over the place when I see him tomorrow."

Nick's heart literally stopped. That jerk had the nerve to look at Jess? Did he not get any of what she said when she picked up the TV? Was he still even an issue for Jess? Nick thought he helped her get over Spencer. …He and Schmidt and Winston. Because it wasn't just Nick. Nick just didn't care enough to help her get over anyone all by himself… Did he?

"Aren't you over him? Besides, his hair is actually just pretty greasy," he encouraged her. She gawked at him.

"He has the hair of God… If God had hair, which he doesn't, because he's a very old man who lives in the sky, but seriously. Hair of God. You just don't know because you're too used to Schmidt's Pauly-D 'do."

"You watch Jersey Shore? Because, if you do, then your IQ just dropped like, twenty points."

"Whatever. I mean, he's gonna be flaunting that mermaid with the fancy name like 'Oh, this is my new girlfriend. She had a seashell bra on!' I guess you don't feel like being my fake boyfriend again and making him jealous? Because I have a pregnancy suit, so we could still have our baby and other baby in case we see Caroline or something. And it would go with the Henry VII outfit." Suddenly, Nick did feel like being her boyfriend. He felt like it very much.

"I promised Winston I'd go to a party with him," he lied instead of telling her that. He wouldn't let himself become remotely attracted to someone he'd have to live with for… Well, for however long the lease said.

"Yeah, I figured. You guys will go and get drunk, and Schmidt will have a huge threesome with some total grenades-"

"You actually watch Jersey Shore?"

"-And I'll be stuck in the corner, wishing I could run my fingers through Spencer's golden tresses." She looked heartbroken, and sad, like she'd never smile again. That would be a travesty, so Nick offered her another idea.

"Or you could get a really great costume, get a real boyfriend at this party, and make him legitimately jealous." Actually, Nick wasn't loving that idea. Not at all.

"I love that idea!" she gushed. "And Albert's a real turn-on, don'cha think?" She winked sexily at him over the back of the couch.

"No," Nick told her bluntly.

"Way to be sensitive about my feelings," Jess whimpered jokingly. Nick rolled his eyes.

"Look, why don't you call Cece about this, or something? She'd know about sexy costumes." Jess' baby blue eyes became oddly fiery.

"Are you implying that because she is an attractive model, she wears slutty clothing to innocent parties where the dirtiest activity is the apple bob?" Nick gulped.

"Uh…"

"I like the way you think, Mr. Too-Cool-For-The-Situation's-Pool!"

"Tell me that didn't just happen."

"It did, and so did some girl losing her fake boob in the Situation's pool."

"Didn't need to know that."

And now, Jess is galavanting about the apartment in a skimpy french maid outfit that Cece stole of the set of a photo shoot for her, looking very much more attractive than Albert Einstein and Henry VII combined. Schmidt is smiling wickedly at her, humping the air in front of him, and Winston… Well, Winston just looks kind of confused. Jess is very pleased with herself though.

"Qui est cette fille? Qui est cette fille? C'est Jess!," she sings in French. "Would you like some jam, Master Nicolas? As the maid, I know all about jam!" With that, she bursts into giggles and bounces out of the room.

"Is she going out like that?" Nick demands before he can stop himself. After all, she is his friend, and friends don't let friends become sluts. Unless they're becoming sluts to make your ex-girlfriend jealous at a big wedding. Right.

"Well, if she's staying home in that, then I can give her a time that's even more fun than her little soiree," Schmidt responds snidely. Nick doesn't like this idea either. What is going on with him?

No sooner as he thought this than Jess reappears, beaming so all the world can see her pearly-whites.

"Let's go get some jealous sex," she sing-songs as she yanks the door open, feet moving subconsciously to a happy dance. "Bye Nick!" Nick stares at her, barely holding up a hand. His whole world has come crashing down in a few seconds because suddenly, Jess is gorgeous. Jess is desirable. It's impossible to think that she wouldn't catch someone's attention when she's wearing that. And Nick will watch her and her new beau prancing around the apartment singing High School Musical songs and watching Antique's Roadshow together, all because Nick never watched Antique's Roadshow with her. Something gurgles in Nick's throat, and he just barely considers making her stay with him.

"Jess, wait!" She spins around with those moony eyes, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet.

"Yuppidy-doodle!" she assures him. "What's up?" When he sees how happy she looks, all of his courage is lost. She should go out and get someone who won't lock himself in photo-booths drunkenly. Someone that's not Nick.

"Um, I… Uh, forgot." The universal excuse for realizing what you were gonna say is stupid. "Have a good time, Jess." I love you.