Saturday night was either a very noisy or quiet night at the loft.
It really depended on the agenda of the night- whether it was dates, movie nights, random parties, or just replays of True American.
But tonight, it was just chaos.
Nick and Jess had clinched dates, Schmidt was going for yet another baby shower (after becoming a surprise hit at them), while Winston was going out with Shelby.
Thus commenced the last minute rush of looking presentable.
'Has anyone seen upon my driving moccasins? I can't believe they've disappeared again!' Schmidt yelled from his room.
'Why the hell do you need moccasins? It's a BABY SHOWER, they might push you into the pool again,' Winston yelled back.
There was a pause, and Schmidt answered, 'I need disinfectant for my Birkenstocks!'
And they lapsed into screaming at each other from their respective rooms.
Jess shook her head tiredly at their bickering as she came out of her room, and headed to the medicine cupboard to get disinfectant- only to have the door fall off its hinges with a loud crash.
'I'm coming!'
Nick leaped over the sofa and grabbed some masking tape from the top of the refrigerator, lifting up the door and taping it back to the hinge rather haphazardly.
He dusted off his hands.
'It's fixed.' He said nonchalantly.
Jess sighed into her palm. She knew that there was no way they were going to confront the landlord again, but all the loft furniture falling into disrepair didn't sit well with her at all.
She blinked up at Nick to tell him that, but then she noticed-
He was dressed much nicer than usual. Sure, it was a familiar looking brown checkered shirt, but it was more dressy than his normal ratty tee-shirts. And he was even wearing a tie! A rather old-fashioned tie, but it suited him. But it was kind of lopsided.
Jesses smiled as she brought up her hands to absentmindedly adjust his tie.
Nick looked adorable- in his own ruffled way. Yeah.
She accidentally brushed against his stubble- and she paused.
And she met his eyes. They were a lot browner than usual.
Like poop, she thought.
But they were much darker too.
She dropped her hands quickly. Her hand felt fizzy and electric.
She swallowed nervously.
'Your tie… It wasn't quite right,' she said awkwardly.
Nick's expression was unreadable.
She smoothed down her skirt and continued, 'You look nice tonight.'
'So do you,' Nick replied. Jess couldn't help but notice Nick's voice was unusually hoarse.
Jess glanced down at her outfit, feeling ridiculously pleased. She glanced down at her cropped top with high-waisted skirt, and beamed back at him. It was just one of her usual teacher-y outfits, but it was nice that he noticed anyway.
'So Casanova, who's your date tonight?' she nudged him.
'Just some girl I met at the bar, Rebecca Wilson-' he scrunched his eyes in focus, '-she's a journalist.'
Jess puckered her lip. Rebecca Wilson sounded familiar- and like a pretty competent person. Not like the normal under-aged girls or ill-mannered chicks he went out with normally. How… odd.
She felt a slight flash of surprise (or was it annoyance?), but tried to quickly suppress it before answering cheerily, 'She sounds great!'
Nick kind-of smiled.
Jess hoped it was a sort-of grimace.
'I know you're going out with that dude… Greg from marketing right?'
Jess raised her eyebrow in surprise.
'I didn't think you would have remembered.'
I remember who you're going out with, especially if he's a perfectly nice guy that I can't pick on, Nick thought silently.
But he gave her a non-committal shrug in response.
'He should be here any moment,' Jess sighed, hoping that Winston and Schmidt's shouting match would've calmed down by the time Greg arrived. Greg was a nice, normal man. She didn't want him to get scared off too quickly.
'YOU CAN JUST WEAR SLIPPERS, DUDE. YOU DON'T NEED DISINFECTANT.'
'YOU DON'T WEAR SLIPPERS TO A BABY SHOWER, YOU EXCREABLE BEING.'
Jess and Nick exchanged a weary glance.
There was a knock on the door.
Nick got up, dusting his hands on his trousers.
'I'll go and shut up the guys. Go and enjoy yourself, Jess,' he waved her away.
'Thanks, Nick,' Jess murmured, as she watched Nick, looking fancy in his checkered shirt and tie (or as fancy as Nick could get) got up, a beer in hand, looking ready for battle.
She felt strangely touched.
She squeezed his hands in thanks, but let go off his big, broad fingers reluctantly before she did anything stupid.
Like hug him and inhale his scent. Or kiss his cheek.
Or kiss his lips.
Good grief.
Nick cleared his throat.
'Go have fun okay?' he said gruffly.
As he sauntered away, Jess began to wonder that perhaps she was in a relationship with the wrong person.