This was going to be a scene longer, but I could see that scene taking on a life of its own. I also haven't watched tonight's episode yet, so I wasn't sure if the folks that are still reading this would be up for something intense.
Nick reached inside the slightly dusty, auburn wardrobe and hung the last of his clothes inside. He turned away and closed the door behind him. He turned back into the storefront, still cluttered with boxes and furniture from Schmidt's new/old apartment. He had closed it a little too hard, however, and the doors banged together loudly, giving everyone a start.
"Dammit, Nick!" Schmidt cried angrily from behind a stack of brown boxes. "That armoire cost me $1800! 100% Georgia Red Maple. If you're going to be staying here, you're going to have to learn to respect my stuff."
"Why did you buy an $1800 armoire?" Winston asked from the long, grey sofa he and Coach were seated on.
"What do you mean, why? You can see it right?"
"It's pretty," Coach chimed in.
"Finally, a little appreciation for the finer things in life."
"Pretty expensive for a big hunk of red wood," Coach finished.
"Heathens…" Schmidt muttered under his breath as he walked over to Nick.
"Now, Nick, as your new landlord, we need to go over a few ground rules."
"Can't wait," Nick said. He weaved past some of the clutter and reached into a green cooler sitting upon a box. He retrieved a Heisler, twisted the cap, and took a slug.
"Now we've agreed that it was getting a little crowded in the loft now that you and Jess are no longer sharing a boudoir."
"Just say 'bed', Schmidt," Coach cracked.
"But as long as you're living under my roof, you'll abide by my rules."
"I don't regret this at all," Nick said, taking another sip of beer.
"Rule #1: No open flames. We've all seen how that ends."
"Fair enough," Nick nodded.
"Rule #2: Hygiene. Now, there is no shower here, so I assume you plan on hooking up a hose out back and just delousing that way."
"There's a shower at the bar, Schmidt. Move along."
"That's not the point, Nicholas. If you're going to be sleeping on my couch, and sleeping on my cashmere Ralph Lauren throws, you're going to have to keep that lumberjack stubble of yours in check"
"Wasn't there something we used to do to try and curb this kind of behavior out of him?" Coach asked, turning to Winston.
"If you'd like a recommendation on a line of products…" Schmidt continued.
"Listen, Schmidt," Nick scowled. "I will continue to pay you the rent I would be paying at the loft, and I won't touch any of your stuff that I don't have to. If you don't like that, there are motels that go as low as thirty bucks a night, and I'll be more than happy to hang my hat in one of those… establishments… for a while."
"Why so testy?" Schmidt asked, backing off. "We were just talking bid-ness."
"Don't call it…." Nick said, stopping himself. He took another drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked at Winston as he tried to calm himself. Winston, for his part, gave him a knowing look. A look of doubt, understanding, and just about everything else Nick needed to see in that moment.
"Hey, look at the time," Winston said standing up. "Gotta get back to feed Furguson. Yeah, if he doesn't eat before 10 pm, he'll be restless and gassy all night."
Coach, Schmidt, and Nick stood in silence for a moment, each hoping the other would break the awkward silence. They exchanged glances while Winston looked to the floor anxiously.
"So, Nick," Schmidt finally said. "There is a mini fridge in here somewhere. A microwave, too. Since all your food comes from the frozen food section, you should be all set."
"Gotcha," Nick said, shepherding everyone towards the door.
"Now the security system is set to automatically kick on between 10 pm and 6 am. Like, serious panic room style lock down. The override code is 6-3-7-4-9. You got it?"
"6-3-7-4-9, got it."
"You don't want to write that down our anything? It's the only way to get that door to open when the alarm is set."
"6-3-7-4-9, got it."
"Suit yourself," Schmidt said as he reached the door. "Don't call me when you get locked out after a long night at work."
"You got it, Schmidt. You're the last person I'll call," Nick said, slapping him on the back as he walked out the door.
"See you later, Nick," Coach said following Schmidt. "Don't be a stranger."
"Yeah, don't be a stranger," Winston said, pausing before stepping outside. "You know it's not too late to change your mind?"
Nick nodded and looked at Winston. "I think I need this," he finally said. "I mean, I'm 33 years old, Winston. I've never lived alone. That's not normal. Besides, I needed to get out of that loft. It was just too…" he trailed off, unable to find the words.
"And what do you want me to tell Jess?"
"I think Jess will understand."
"Oh, I know she'll understand. But what do you want me to tell her?"
"Tell her the truth," Nick said after some thought. "Tell her I needed… tell her I don't know what I needed, but this seemed like a good idea. For both of us."
Winston gave Nick one last, pleading look before nodding his head and turning to leave. As the door shut, Nick threw the bolt and watched his friends get into Winston's SUV. He turned back into the room, and surveyed the mess before him.
"Home sweet home."
Jess sat on the sofa, tapping her finger anxiously on her bunny eared iPhone. She pushed her glasses up her nose and lifted the phone to her ear. She waited the obligatory 4 rings before, for the umpteenth time, Cece's voicemail picked up. Jess hung up the phone and dropped in on the coffee table with a thud. She knew Cece had made late dinner plans with Buster, but she was still hoping to hear from her before the night was over. She reached down to pick up a mug of tea that was sitting on the table. As she pulled the mug to her lips, she noticed with dismay that she was shaking. She put the tea back on the table and held her hand out in front of her face and watched until the shaking subsided. As she reached back down to pick up the mug, she felt something thump down beside her on the couch. She instinctively turned to discover Furguson looking up at her expectantly.
"Oh, hey," Jess muttered.
Furguson blinked.
"I, uh, I don't have any treats for you."
Furguson blinked some more before slowly sitting down. He lifted his head yet again and looked at Jess. She bit her lip and looked around the empty apartment.
"You know," she said, looking back at the cat. "I would have thought the two of us would've been good friends by now. But we almost never hang out."
Furguson blinked slowly at Jess and began to purr.
"You know, you're right. No time like the present," Jess said reaching out and softly rubbing the back of the cat's neck. Furguson raised his head to meet her hand as his purring grew louder. She pet him for a while before finally speaking again.
"What is going on with me and Nick? What am I doing? Why is this so hard?"
Furguson answered by ramming his face into her hand.
"I miss my friend? What the hell was that? We haven't been 'friends' in almost a year."
Jess stopped petting Furguson and reached for her tea again. This time she made it to her lips without issue. She sat the mug back on the table and exhaled, letting her hands fall into her lap.
"But then… why did we feel such pressure? I mean, I've never felt that kind of pressure before. Not with Russell, not with Sam. Not even…"
Furguson interrupted her by sticking his head in her lap and forcing his face into her hands.
"I know, I know. It's because we have so much to lose. We have so…" Her eyes glassed over and as the realization hit her, she found herself still and not breathing. "We… we had so much to lose," she said finally.
Furguson moved into her lap and looked up at her.
"He's gone," she said, looking down at the cat. "Is there anything even to lose anymore?"
Furguson leapt from her lap as the loft door simultaneously swung open. Coach and Schmidt entered the loft, followed by Winston who shut the door behind them.
"Okay, Coach. Let's call your little 'freebie' date with Michelle, your 'free pass'. Pun most assuredly intended. When my 'free pass' comes, however, you can bet I'm going all out. Dinner, champagne… maybe even rent a limo."
"Knock yourself out, man," Coach said as he trudged off to his room. "I'll see you guys later."
"Night, Coach," Winston called. He slowly entered the living room towards Jess, who stood up and began clearing her dishes from the coffee table. "Hey, Jess, I…"
"Guess you heard the news?" Schmidt called from the kitchen. "Looks like we can all take longer showers, now. One less person using up the hot water."
"Yeah, I…" Jess started.
"Place was getting to be a bit of madhouse," Schmidt continued, pulling a bottle of water from the refrigerator. "Nick said he'd be by later to get some of the stuff out of your room. Though I don't know where he's got room to put anything."
"Where…" Jess began again.
"But don't worry. He's still paying his share of the rent," Schmidt said, crossing the living room and sitting down on the couch. "So not much really has to change. Just a shorter line to the bathroom and a little less clutter."
"Sure. Makes sense. I just gotta…" she said before stopping and heading quickly off to her room, taking her dishes with her. Winston's eyes followed her until he heard the door shut and he looked back at Schmidt incredulously.
"What?" Schmidt asked.
Winston shook his head and followed Jess to her room. He gave a few soft knocks before he heard her stirring on the other side of the door.
"What is it," she said.
"Jess, open up."
"What is it Winston?"
"It'll just take a second."
After a few moment, Winston heard Jess stand up from the bed and move towards him. She cracked the door open and looked up at Winston. He wasn't at all surprised to see such sadness behind her blue eyes. He thought for a second about what he was about to do. If it was his place. If it was really going to make a difference.
"What?" Jess croaked sadly, making Winston's mind up for him.
"2775 Hermann Drive. That's the storefront where Nick's at. You know, if you two ever want to work on getting your story straight for the rest of them."
"Winston, what are…"
"Save it Jess," Winston said firmly. "If this is eating you up half as much as…"
Jess' eyes flashed a bit before Winston finished talking. He wondered if he had given her too much hope. If he had too much faith in his two idiot roommates to actually figure this thing out.
"2775 Hermann Drive. That's the address. Do with it what you want," he said as he turned and walked down the hall to his room.
Jess briefly closed the door gently around her head as she thought it over. She didn't have to do anything with that information, she told herself. But what harm could come of knowing it? She stepped back, took a deep breath, and shut the door.
I guess I haven't said it a ton lately, but as always, I do appreciate everyone who reads. Especially since the number of those who feel up to reading and writing these days seems to be dwindling. I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Thanks for sticking with it.