Takes place in the not so distant future. The only thing that's different from where the show currently stands (3x6) is that Schmidt isn't leaving the loft. Chapter 1 is a little light on the comedy, but it's sort of a table setter. Also, it's been a long, long while since I've really written anything, other than my little script things here. Hopefully I don't toggle tenses or POV too much while I get back in the swing. Thank you, as always, for taking the time.
Winston moved slowly down the hall, shaking the previous night's sleep from his head. He pulled the collar of his grey t-shirt and wiped his eyes, yawing widely. As he approached the kitchen, he wasn't surprised to see Schmidt already up, hard at work on his breakfast.
"Smells good, whatcha got cooking, Schmidt?"
"Oh, just the usual. Egg white omelet with blanched spinach, burst cherry tomatoes, and aged feta. Would you like some?"
"Sure man, I was just gonna snag some Corn Pops, but that sounds… better. We got any coffee?"
"Please. Part soy vanilla latte, Winston. Beans imported from the Poissy region of France. Only the best."
Schmidt pulled a tiny cup from the cabinet and poured Winston a small serving of the latte and set it down on the island. Winston rolled his eyes as he took a seat. Schmidt wiped his hands on the yellow apron he donned before taking it off and hanging back on a hook in the wall. He smoothed out the wrinkles on his green V-neck before grabbing the large frying pan and plating the omelets for he and Winston. He brought the plates over to the island, and sat down across the island from his roommate.
"So. Any word from…" Schmidt asked, gesturing to Jess' room.
"Not a peep. At least not since we got back last night."
"Well, maybe that's a good thing. Maybe they just… went to sleep."
Winton raised his eyebrows and gave Schmidt a skeptical look.
"I don't know," he said. "I hope you're right. But… but what if they didn't? What if they don't figure this out?"
Schmidt just sighed, shook his head, and took a bite of his omelet. After a second, he put his fork down and pushed his plate way.
"Then… then things could get bad."
Winston took a sip of his latte before furrowing his brow and looking at Schmidt.
"I thought you were against this? I thought you wanted them to break up?"
"I did. But…," Schmidt tailed off, looking down. "Well, you know what I've been going through with Cece and Elizabeth. And you know I… I can be a little selfish sometimes."
"You're kidding."
"It was just kind of hard to watch the two of them starting out while I was messing things up with two great women."
Schmidt looked back up at Winston, and gestures toward Jess' room.
"I just don't want either of them to mess things up as badly as I did."
Winston nodded stoically, and took another sip of his coffee. He paused for a moment, thinking.
"Well. Maybe it's good that what happened is out in the open. Maybe they can talk about it, get it all out there, and move forward. Hell, maybe they already did. Maybe Nick's in there snoring away, and Jess is sleep talking about kittens and rainbows as we speak."
Schmidt shrugged and nodded.
"I hope you're right, man. Because if you're not… things could get bad. Really bad."
In her room, Jess sat Indian style on her bed, her blue dress from the night before spread out over her legs. Some time ago, she'd pulled her multi-colored afghan from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. Her eyes, red from hours of on and off crying, followed Nick as he silently paced around her room. He hadn't looked at her in nearly an hour, and hadn't spoken in even longer than that.
"Nick, can you say something," she barely whispered.
Nick stopped pacing, but didn't turn to face her. He groaned and started massaging his temples with the palms of his hands.
"I'm not sure what's left to say, Jess. We've been at this for hours. I don't know, I think everything's been said."
"Nick, we haven't slept in over 24 hours. Can't we just… sleep on it a little? Maybe a little rest will help us see things a little more clearly."
Nick stopped rubbing his head, and thoughtfully looked in Jess' direction, careful not to make eye contact.
"That might not be a terrible idea," he said. "I'm pretty beat. Might not be thinking as straight as normal."
Jess exhaled deeply. She quickly wiped her eyes and began to move to the right side of her bed.
"Thank you, Nick. I think we really just need to get a little rest. Things will seem different in a few…."
She looked up at Nick, surprised that he hadn't moved, and still hadn't looked at her.
"Nick, what…"
"I'm not going to sleep here Jess. I just… I can't."
Jess stifled a gasp and sat in silence. She shut her eyes in and reflexive attempt to stop the tears from falling.
"Nick?"
"You kissed another man, Jess."
Jess gulped and opened her eyes wide. Her stalling tactic had failed as her blue eyes overflowed with new tears.
"Nick, I told you. He kissed me. He kissed me, I didn't want to kiss him."
"Yeah, but you didn't stop him, did you?"
"But I did!"
"Not from where I was standing," Nick said, turning and finally looking Jess in the eye. His own eyes were red and swollen. And angry. "I got an eyeful, Jess. And it didn't look like you seemed to mind. At all."
"Nick, I was surprised! It took me a second to… to react. I'm sorry."
"Yeah yeah yeah, Jess. That's what you keep telling me."
"Why don't you believe me? Huh?" Jess got off the bed and walked slowly towards Nick, lowering her voice as she spoke. "You know me Nick. You know this… you know I'm the last person who would ever, ever do anything like…"
"Like what, Jess," Nick snapped. "Like… kiss another guy while your boyfriend is just a few feet away. As if that's never happened before."
The air went out of Jess' body as she took a half step back, as if she received a physical blow. Nick turned his eyes away, unable to face her.
"I… I can't believe…," Jess squeaked out. "I can't believe you would use us, compare us… to what happened last night. "
Jess turned away and slowly sat back down from the bed, facing the opposite direction of Nick. She inhaled deeply as the tears silently streamed down her face. She sat silently for a few moments.
"I think maybe you should go," she finally whispered.
"Look, Jess," Nick started. The anger was gone from his voice, replaced by sadness and regret. "Maybe I… I shouldn't have taken it… there. But you have to understand. I know… firsthand… how hard it is to resist kissing you."
Jess sniffed away some tears as her body straightened up.
"Jess," Nick continued. "I don't think you understand how beautiful you are. Guys are going to want to be around you, to kiss you, and…"
"You don't… trust me?"
Nick walked around to Jess' side of the bed, and knelt in front of her. He brushed some hair out of her face, and let his hand linger on her cheek for a moment before reaching down and gathering her hands in his.
"Jess. That was just so hard to see. I felt… just… as bad as I've ever felt about anything. Look, I'm still shaking a little bit from it. It's not that I don't trust you. I don't know, maybe it's a little bit that I don't really trust anyone. But Jess… you terrify me. "
Jess looked down at Nick, holding her breath.
"Nick, I…"
"I've spent the last three years trying not to let anyone hurt me. And I've failed at every turn. Caroline, Julia, Angie. They all hurt me, Jess. But put all that hurt together, multiply it by 1000, and it still doesn't come close to the hurt I felt last night when I saw you kissing that guy. That smart, wealthy, good looking guy."
"I'm sorry, Nick. Like I've been saying…"
"Jess. I just… I don't know if I can deal with that kind of pain again."
"I didn't mean to…"
"I know you didn't mean it, Jess. But here we are."
Nick dropped her hands and slowly stood up. He smiled a humorless smile, and leaned forward, placing a small hiss on the top of her head.
"I think it's time for us to sleep. I think… I think it's time. "
Nick slowly started to walk toward the door, stepping over Jess' shoes and his discarded flannel as he did so. Jess anxiously listened on.
"I think we should take a day or two. Calm down a bit. See things through a different lens."
"Nick," Jess said as he reached for the door handle.
"Yeah, Jess?"
"We're going to be okay, right? I mean, this… this can't be what…"
"I don't know, Jess. I hope so. But…."
He just offered a small smile and opened the door. As he set foot in the hallway, he turned back one last time.
"Goodnight, Jess."
He softly closed the door, and Jess was alone.
"Goodnight, Nick."
Nick stepped out into the hallway and walked over to the door to his room. He put his hand on the doorknob, but didn't open the door. Instead, he rested his forehead on the door and closed his eyes. He didn't hear Winston approach.
"Hey, man," Winston said, cautiously.
"Hey, pal," Nick replied, composing himself.
"How you doing? How's Jess?"
"I… guess…," Nick said, looking at Jess' door. "I guess I can't say."
"Look, Nick. You know Jess. You know she didn't mean it. That dude was just…"
"Yeah, I know, Winston. I know."
"So… what's up? What are you going to do?"
Nick squinted and reached up to rub his neck with the back of neck.
"I'm going to go to sleep," he said. "And I …. I kinda feel like I owe Dr. Sam a big apology."
"Dr. Sam?" Winston asked, confused.
"Nothing, man. Just talking nonsense. I need sleep. Goodnight, pal."
"Alright, man. Sleep well."
Nick muttered his thanks as slipped into his room and shut the door behind him. Winston turned, pausing a moment to look at Jess' door, and walked back toward the living room where Schmidt was sitting on the sectional, waiting.
"So, how's he doing? What's up?"
Winton sat down before shrugging and looking at Schmidt.
"I don't know, man. But… it doesn't look good. I mean, this is Nick we're talking about. Never been the most secure guy in the world."
"Well, can you blame him in this case? I mean, you saw the other guy right?"
"Yeah. Looked like an underwear model. You know, if I noticed that sort of thing."
"Please, Winston. You sell the guy short. He's no mere underwear model. Armani, perhaps. Prada. That sort of thing."
Schmidt looked down and paused a moment before turning back to Winston.
"Really, really want to know where he got that blazer he was wearing. Winston, do you think Nick would mind if I looked him up? Got a few tips, a few recommendations. My fall wardrobe is seriously lacking at the moment, and I think this year I could really…."
Winston just stared blankly at Schmidt, shaking his head.
"You're right. No, no. You're right," Schmidt relented. After a brief pause, he continued. "So. Things aren't looking…"
"They're looking kind of bad Schmidt. From what I saw, they're looking kind of bad."
The two roommate sat quietly on the couch, each looking towards the hallway between Nick and Jess' rooms.
"Man, I hope they figure it out," Schmidt said, before getting up and walking towards his room, leaving Winston alone on the couch.
"Me too, man."