They ended up sitting on her floor. Who knew how or why. It was one of those "wee hours of the morning" things that just happen. Probably because, given the frustrated nature of the night they'd both had, lounging on her bed together was just not something either one of them felt comfortable doing at the moment.

Much less with a surplus of "ribbed for her pleasure" rubbers at the ready.

"I sure have spent a lot of time sitting on the floor tonight," he grumbled, as he shrugged out of his jacket and leaned back against her bed with his legs stretched out in front of him. Jess tucked herself (uncomfortably, until she grabbed a pillow) into the corner created by her bed and bedside table, and held out her spoon for him to "clink" with his bottle. "Cheers," she said. Then she delved into her carton of frozen comfort, and they did indeed, as he had promised, talk.

She went first, in between bites of ice cream: sadly in the beginning, embarrassed, and depressed that yet again her adventures had left her feeling foolish and rejected. And Nick tried to take her seriously, he really did. But maybe it was the late hour...or maybe it was the beer...or maybe it was the vague sense of desperate hysteria that had been hovering over him ever since he'd left Julia that night. But Nick found himself snorting out loud at various points in her story. And when it just became ridiculous to keep apologizing for it, he finally gave himself over to out and out laughter.

And soon Jess was reveling in the ludicrousness of it all right along with him, as she began to relish the detailing of her one-night-stand-gone-wrong until Nick was laughing until he was literally crying at The Valentine Misadventures of Jess.

The tale of her foibles and follies finally came to an end, however, and their laughter trailed off until they fell into a companionable silence. The next logical point of discussion would have been to address how he'd come to find her outside Schmidt's door, but neither one of them seemed ready to spoil the current mood.

Nick took a swig from the bottle that he'd forgotten he was even holding, as Jess chunked the empty ice cream carton into her trashcan, and asked, more subdued now, "Soooo...you're saying you didn't get any action tonight either?"

She gestured towards his be-hearted "chastity belt", and he sniffed regretfully and shook his head. "Jess," he asked, seemingly changing the subject, "Did I ever tell you about the time I entered a cock fight in Mexico?"

She raised a trepidatious eyebrow. "Please tell me this story involves chickens."