A/N: First story I've written for New Girl - first story I've ever felt confident in sharing :) I'd love to hear people's views on this so I can decide if there's any point continuing? I know this is only a brief introduction; the first chapter will be up soon :) Thanks xx

Denial.

Prologue.

Things had started to get a bit messy for Nick when Angie ended things with him. It was entirely Nick's fault, and he knew it. He'd never trusted her - it was hard to trust a woman who constantly took her clothes off for other men, and she wasn't about to give up her job. Dating a stripper had finally helped him to understand why Schmidt had been driven so crazy by CeCe's modelling career. Nick knew that she hadn't really had any choice but to end it, he couldn't take the constant, niggling doubt any more either, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. In the first few weeks after, he had stared into the bottom of numerous whisky bottles.

Just as Nick had been starting to pull himself vaguely together, Jess and Sam had parted ways too – as it turned out, he wasn't ready for a serious relationship after all. Jess, rather than drown all of her sorrows in whisky opted for drinking a lot of wine, watching Dirty Dancing almost on loop and crying. Nick, Schmidt and Winston had all been content to let CeCe handle it, until they remembered she was away visiting family for 2 weeks. To their credit, the guys did indulge her for almost a week, and then Nick had made the executive decision to put a stop for it. They'd all but dragged her to Nick's bar, given her a few too many pink wines and shots, and generally just tried to give her a good night. Mostly, it had been a success. She certainly seemed better - Dirty Dancing viewings were down to just once a week, and she was heard singing more than crying. So, all in all, Nick's idea had been really good. Except that was when things had started to get even messier.

The problem was, and Nick hated to admit it, but since she had been back to her happy, normal self, he'd found that the moments where he was attracted to her were almost beginning to outweigh the moments he thought of her as just a friend. And it was extremely frustrating. They'd already established that they would never ever work as a couple, so Nick knew that he couldn't act on it. Besides, Schmidt would probably have a heart attack if he did. So he kept it to himself.

As the weeks had gone by, he'd grown more and more frustrated, and even though it made him feel like an ass, he ended up taking it out on her – and she took the bait every time, which lead to some really stupid, pointless arguments. The tipping point for him had come just before the week-end. It hadn't been the worst argument they'd ever had, but it had left him feeling very confused. He'd come home to find Jess, surrounded by scraps of fabric, sewing. He could've left it alone and not said anything, but then he stood on a needle.

"For God's sake Jess!" he yelled, and she'd blinked at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm making puppets." She replied, cheerfully.

"Right, right, of course..." he waited, but she didn't say anything else.

"What are you making puppets for Jess?"

"My creative writing class." Nick raised his eyebrows.

"Jess, you teach adults now. Do you really think they're going to be interested in puppets?" Jess glared at him, and put down the half formed owl she was sewing.

"Yes, Nick, I do. I think adults who have an interest in creative writing are imaginative enough to appreciate puppets."

"I like creative writing, Jess. I've actually written a novel. About zombies. Know what I don't like? Puppets. It's a stupid idea, Jess." He scowled.

"Well your novel was terrible. Maybe you should come to my class. The puppets might teach you how to not suck." Nick was a little taken aback by that, and it must have shown. For her part, Jess regretted saying it almost immediately.

"Nick, I'm sorry. Your book wasn't that bad."

"Yes it was." He admitted, and she smiled at him a little as she pulled herself to her feet, gathering up her fabric as she did.

"Well. I shouldn't have said it so harshly." Nick didn't say anything; he didn't really know what to say. "You've just been so grumpy lately, Nick. More so than usual, you're driving me crazy."

"Hey! I've only been grumpy because you're constantly doing things which are very annoying."

"That's not true Nick – I'm doing the same things I've always done." She said, pointedly. She was right, of course, and it left Nick wordless again.

"Just stop being such as ass, ok? It's not my fault you and Angie didn't work out." She muttered.

"What are you talking about? I know it's not your fault – this, this has nothing to do with that. I just don't get puppets!"

"Right... well, whatever Nicholas." He almost called her out on the use of his full name, but she pushed past him and into her room before he could. Her arm brushed against his, and he'd found himself wondering what she'd do if he stopped her leaving and just kissed her. Once he'd thought about it, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He really, really wanted to kiss her. And he also really, really wanted to yell at her too. So he'd opened his laptop, and booked a cheap, last minute plane ride home.