"Going to California" (Nick, Nick/Jess) PG-13
Title: “Going to California”
Author: Lila
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing: Nick, Nick/Jess
Spoiler: “See Ya”
Length: one-shot
Summary: Nick buys a bar, channels Russell, and woos Jess along the way
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing them for a few paragraphs
Author’s Note: There are many things I love about “New Girl” - Schmidt’s kimono, Winston’s earring, everything Nadia loves about America, Nick’s mancrush on Russell - but I love nothing as much as ‘shipping Nick and Jess. So this fic is about them, inspired by last week’s marathon and the episodes living in my dvr and my need to just write fic so I can eventually finish “Paradise Circus.” So, this is it. Title and cut courtesy of Led Zeppelin (and seriously, this song fits Nick/Jess perfectly). Enjoy.
~ * ~
I. Falling Time
Nick wakes up the morning after with a crick in his neck. Which makes sense, because he used his shoes for a pillow, but it also means he can’t really move.
He’s not not even sure that he wants to. The sun is spilling through the windows and it feels good on his face, warm and bright, like the start of something new. Which is what he’s doing, even though he left his new-old girlfriend to go live in his old-new apartment because of his new-new roommate.
“I want you to be happy,” Jess had said and he hadn’t been able to see her face in the darkness, but he’d still known that she’d meant every word that she’d said.
He makes a list because he still can’t move his neck and that means time to kill.
He doesn’t know what makes him happy. He knows it’s not Caroline. Really, truly, for real knows it’s not Caroline. It’s not law school . Or teaching. Or growing tomatoes. And much as he wishes it were, it’s definitely not inventing things.
He doesn’t really like tending bar either, but he does like listening to stories about people’s lives that are actually worse than his. He shifts and his head rolls off his left shoe, but something clicks in his neck and he’s able to push himself into a sitting position.
He calls for Jess to help with the rest.
She makes him eggs and puts an icepack on his neck and he knows this: he’s tired of being the sad guy all the time.
---
II. WWRD? (What Would Russell Do?)
---
Nick knows he needs a plan - a plan that goes beyond unpacking the boxes that currently contain all his worldly possessions - but moving back into his own home seems like a good start.
He puts the bed back and then his dresser and then starts filling the drawers with clothes. Nothing is folded particularly well and he resists the urge to ask Jess for help. He let her make him breakfast the day before; he doesn’t need her taking care of him anymore.
The sweater is hidden at the bottom of a box, underneath his dvds, and it’s the only article of clothing that isn’t covered in wrinkles. It’s neatly folded and still soft and smells like doing everything right.
He remembers that day in Russell’s study, the duck and the hat and especially the sweater, but he mostly remembers what Russell said, ”I realized I wanted to grow up. That’s what happens."
Nick knows that he doesn’t have a kid or a koi pond or a Japanese toilet, but he wants more than wrinkled t-shirts and a bed he bought off craigslist.
He wants…he knows exactly what he wants.
It involves putting on the sweater and practicing a speech, waiting for Schmidt and Winston to leave, listening for the dull hum of Jess watching tv.
She’s out there and she’s alone and he goes over his lines one last time, takes off the sweater and carefully folds it before taking a deep breath.
It’s now or never; he can’t always be that guy who never starts anything.
Jess is wearing pajamas and glasses and she looks sleepy and exhausted, but still smiles like she’s happy to see him. And the thing is, the thing that always amazes him, is that he knows she actually is.
“Hey,” she says softly. “How’s it feel to be home?”
“Will you take out a loan for me?” he blurts out and blows the opportunity for her to agree to the plan.
“What?”
He takes a breath, rubs his cheeks and tries again. “I’m going to open a bar,” he tells her.
Her eyes go wide but her smile is wider, especially when she vaults off the couch and lands in his arms. “Nick! Way to be brave, buddy!”
He takes a step back to find his balance and thinks about holding her tighter, because she’s soft and round in his arms and smells good. Better than he remembered. But she’s sniffing at his collar, her nose brushing the skin of his throat, and before he can react she’s pulling back and staring at him, her brow crinkling under the thick frames of her glasses.
“Why do you smell like Russell?”
“Is that a good thing?” he asks and prays the answer is yes. He can’t deal with her backsliding again.
She shrugs instead. “I didn’t know you wanted to be a fancyman.”
“I don’t. I just want to own my own bar.”
She pauses and he thinks she’ll say no. His heart sinks deep into his gut, almost as deep as the last time that Caroline left him, so deep he wonders if it will find its way out. But then she smiles again, that smile that tells him the only answer can be yes. “I’m not giving you money but I will cosign your loan.”
He has enough law school under his belt to know what that means and this time he’s the one to throw his arms around her and spin them around the room. She’s singing when he sets her down but it’s a song he knows and he joins in, ”We’re all in the mood for a melody and you’ve got us feeling alright.” His voice hasn’t improved much since that time Schmidt’s buddy stood her up, but it doesn’t really matter.
He likes how well their voices compliment each other.
---
III. Rainbows and Unicorns
---
Jess wears a dress to their loan interview that makes her eyes even bluer and her smile even brighter. He wears a pair of FatSchmit’s dress pants and his suspenders and Winston’s sports coat. He looks like a homeless professor, but the loan officer can’t stop staring at Jess.
“I know his credit score is low,” she says and bats her eyelashes again, smiles sadly, and Nick watches the officer’s cheeks turn bright red. “It’s just that this is his dream. You’re not going to kill his dream, are you?”
Nick can see the guy cracking but there are rules and regulations he’s not willing to break. He’s ready to give up and give in when Jess tries one last time.
She smiles and opens her mouth. “What would you do if I sang out of tune? Would you stand up and walk out on me?”
The loan officer stares at her for a good thirty seconds and Nick gets ready to run, but instead the guy’s cheeks turn an even darker shade of red and his mouth opens too. “Lend me your ears and I’ll sing you a song and I’ll try not to sing out of key.”
Jess’s smile only widens and she even reaches across the desk to take the guy’s hand in hers. “I get by with a little help from my friends. I get high with a little help from my friends. Going to try with a little help from my friends.”
Nick’s own mouth drops open and he wonders if he wandered into an episode of “The Twilight Zone”, but he snaps it closed when the loan officer starts signing paperwork.
“Don’t make me regret this,” he says sternly but he still blushes whenever he looks at Jess.
Nick is amazed by her. “How do you do it?”
She shrugs. “I am who I am.”
Nick signs his name on the dotted line. He’s lucky to have her in his life.
---
IV. Make it Rain
---
Nick waits until the paperwork is processed before telling Schmidt and Winston.
Schmidt runs around the apartment cheering but Winston clasps his shoulder and gives him a manhug. “I’m happy for you,” he says.
Nick pulls away. “I’m going to do you one better. I don’t have all the money I owe you, but I can give you an open tab for life.”
Winston smiles and there’s that tug in Nick’s gut again.
It feels good to do the right thing.
---
V. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure
---
Nick buys his old bar. Pete wants to retire and Nick practically runs the place most week nights and he brings Jess along to bat her eyelids into Pete giving him a decent price.
Jess thinks she’s there for moral support, but it works and he’s a couple hundred thousand dollars poorer but the owner of a bar that looks like it escaped from 1994.
Jess puts her hands on her hips and blows a piece of hair back from her forehead. Nick keeps his own hands locked firmly on the bar to keep from reaching over and brushing it back behind her ear. He wants to do that a lot lately, touch her, but now isn’t the time. She’s the reason he has this chance; he’s not going to blow it by getting handsy.
“We have a lot of work to do.” Jess turns and grabs his arm, tugs hard on his wrist, and the sleeves of his long-sleeved tee are pushed up to his elbows which means it’s bare skin touching bare skin.
If she notices the contact, she doesn’t react, but he can feel it everywhere and he’s grateful for the bar providing coverage past his waist.
“Come on,” Jess says and pulls him along behind her. He’s glad his flannel hits him mid-thigh.
They argue about décor on the way over. He wants a sports theme, but she wants something she describes as “Portlandia” meets “Mad Men” and he has no idea what that means, but the conversation ends with a trip to a flea market so Jess can buy vintage movie posters and street signs.
He stops protesting after the first poster for “Easy Rider.” It’s not like he’s going to win the argument and covering the walls with Cubs and Bears signs does seem played out.
“You want people to do more than drink,” she tells him. “You want them to stay and hang out.” She adds a poster for the original “Battlestar Galactica” to their pile. “Remind them where they came from and they’ll never leave.” He follows behind her, foam-backed posters stacked under his arm, and lets her set the rules. She hasn’t steered him wrong yet.
“What do you think of this?” she asks and holds up a wooden plaque that says “Home.” There are four elephants, three large and one small, and it’s totally her kind of thing but not right for his bar.
“I don’t think it fits your theme.”
She smacks him lightly. “No, for our keys in the loft. Will the guys like it?”
Before, the loft was the place where he played video games and drank beer and watched Bulls games with Winston. The loft was where he loved Caroline and hated Caroline and mourned Caroline and loved her some more. The loft was bad wiring and shoddy construction and appliances that never seemed to work at the same time.
He glances at the plaque again, the sweet, honest smile on her face, and feels one of his own creep across his mouth.
The loft isn’t just a place to live anymore. She’s made his house into a home.
---
VI. Fancyman, fancy plans
---
Nick pulls a move from of Russell’s playbook and takes Jess to an expensive dinner to say thank you.
It’s the end of August and she’s spent her entire summer helping him get ready for the grand opening. There was paint and contractors and arguing over chairs and almost forgetting to apply for the liquor license, and when it’s all said and done, he almost killed her three times but he wouldn’t have been able to do it without her.
So he tells her to wear a dress and heels and borrows Schmidt’s car. He drives at a snail’s pace to the restaurant and spends most of the trip yelling at other drivers and trying to ignore the long expanse of Jess’s legs. He’s seen her in a dress like this before, but there were fake teeth involved and they pretty much killed the mood. Tonight her dress is red and the same color as her lipstick and her eyes are enormous and blue. It’s just the two of them, no props in sight.
He gets them there without incident or copping a feel and is grateful that their table is ready because his pants are feeling super tight.
Jess looks at the menu like there’s a treasure map hidden and can’t seem to choose anything. “What do you think is good here?” she asks.
Nick glances at the menu and even though he’s a college graduate with three semesters of law school behind him, he doesn’t know what “squab" is. “No clue,” he says. “Why don’t you dip your toe in the pool of possibility?” A look of horror flashes across her face as her cheeks blush red and Nick laughs. “Too soon?”
Jess takes a sip of water. “It will never be long enough.”
Nick decides on the rib eye and closes his menu. “Seriously, though. Have whatever you like.”
Jess opens the menu again and hums under her breath. She’s been spending too much time with Schmidt because Nick recognizes the song. “I said you can have whatever you like.”
He takes a long sip of wine and looks desperately for the waitress. He knows he's been spending too much time with Schmidt because he knows the next line, ”Late night sex so wet so tight…”
He tries to think about anything else except that song and Jess’s dress and the way she’s catching her bottom lip between her teeth while looking at the menu.
He tries to think about Schmidt’s inter-galactic tea ceremony and a ménage a trois with his landlord and whatever lived in that box that “Neil” brought with him.
Mostly, he thinks about Jess that night in the desert and how she told him to be happy. He makes the mistake of glancing at her, menu closed and a triumphant smile lighting up her face.
Happiness is her in his bed wearing nothing but that smile.
---
VII. Time of Your Life
---
He calls the bar “The Jar” and it’s not the best name but the theme sticks.
Jess makes him buy mason jars instead of glasses and there’s a “Douchebag Jar” on every table in the room. They collect tips in empty pickle containers and even the light bulbs used to house jam and jelly.
It seems a bit much to him, but it’s a hit on opening night. He gets a good write up in the “LA Times” and CeCe convinces her roommates to come and TMZ makes a brief appearance.
All in all, he thinks he might be a success and he doesn’t know what’s scarier: the threat of failure or the possibility that he might get it right.
Jess is the last one left standing. Winston has gone home with Shelby and Schmidt’s trying to work it out with CeCe again, and it’s late so she collapses onto a stool and rests her head on her arms.
“You’re a hit,” she tells him sleepily.
He laughs and slides a mason jar across the bar.
She perks up and lifts her head and even with makeup smeared under her eyes, she’s beautiful. “What’s this?”
“Signature drink. Try it.”
She warily takes sip and then another, and then puts it down so she can smile at him. “It’s delicious. What’s in it?”
Nick shrugs and starts drying jars. “Rosé, raspberry liquor, some other things I can’t reveal. I’m thinking of calling it the Pink and Slutty.”
She laughs, but her expression is serious and she’s only had two sips of her drink but she pushes it away. “I’m so proud of you.”
He keeps polishing jars. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”
“Maybe, but you were the one who started it. You started something, Nick, and look how much you’ve achieved.”
He glances around the bar and it’s almost last call but mostly full. The décor is cool but understated and the chairs aren’t too fancy and everyone looks like they’re having a great time. “I guess I did good.”
Jess takes the jar out of his grip and rests her hands on his wrists, using the leverage to lean in and press her lips to his cheek. Her hair is soft where it tickles his cheek and she smells good, so good he almost turns his head and does what he’s wanted to do for months now.
He calls her a cab instead.
He’s begun to like the person he’s become, but that guy isn’t ready for anyone else yet.
---
VIII. When I Grow Up
---
Nick starts earning money, but he doesn’t let it get to his head.
He opens a savings account and starts paying off his law school debt. Few things have felt better than getting a cellphone without being ashamed of his credit score.
He buys clothes that aren’t made of flannel or cotton and even gets his hair cut on a regular basis.
He pays back Winston but lets him keep the tab. He gives Schmidt one too.
Girls throw themselves at him but he doesn’t go home with them - even the ones who are his own age.
---
IX. Hate the Game, Not the Player
---
Jess starts dating someone in October.
His name is Ben and they meet through the afterschool program he runs at her school, but he mostly spends his time surfing and playing guitar on the beach. Which means he’s tanned and toned and Nick hates him on sight.
Jess brings him around after a few weeks and the nothing is wrong with the guy except his hair and his job and the fact that he’s dating Jess, and Nick can’t help glaring at him all night long.
“Niiiiiick,” Jess hisses and elbows him in the ribs. “Stop making the turtle face.”
He puts his hood up instead and goes for a beer run. He doesn’t do anything stupid like calling Caroline or Amanda or one of the college girls he met through Dirk and considers it progress.
It’s Winston who puts it in perspective. “You know what she’s doing, right?” he asks and opens another beer. There’s a Bears game on their satellite and Nick’s been trying to concentrate and not wonder what Jess is doing, but Winston’s question catches him off guard.
“What are you talking about?”
“Jess and surfer? He’s the poor man’s version of you.”
Nick doesn’t understand. There can’t be a poorer version of himself and he tells Winston as much. And that Ben’s hair is stupid.
Winston shakes his head. “She’s telling you something. You’re just not listening.”
Nick pauses the game. “What am I missing?”
Winston turns to face him and his eyes are wiser than Nick’s ever seen. “She’s not too good for you. That’s what you’re missing.” Winston grabs the remote and the game switches back on but Nick misses most of it.
He isn’t ready even if she is.
---
X. What’s good for the goose…
---
Jess breaks up with Ben. A week later, Nick goes out with one of CeCe’s model friends.
She mostly works for “Nylon” and she’s pretty in a dirty kind of way. Nick takes her for drinks but can’t pay attention to most of what she says. He’s sure she’s interesting, to someone, but name dropping isn’t spontaneous singing and mustache tattoos aren’t weird glasses.
He spends most of the night wanting to call Jess.
---
XI. This One’s On Me
---
His cancer scare was just a scare, but Nick doesn’t forget.
It’s right before Thanksgiving when he does his first shift for the “Barman’s Fund” and Jess stumbles in.
It’s early, even for happy hour, and she isn’t drunk, just tired, and immediately orders a Pink and Slutty. “What’s going on here?” she asks, gesturing vaguely to the cancer charity signs around the bar. Even her hand motions are exhausted and she mostly looks like she’s batting air.
“Barman’s Fund,” Nick explains. “All tips go to charity.”
She doesn’t say anything but the pride in her smile tugs hard at his gut.
---
XII. (non)Dudesgiving
---
No one invites any guests to Thanksgiving this year.
Except CeCe, but she and Schmidt are trying to work things out and she’s practically related to Jess and doesn’t really count.
Shelby goes to her parents’ and Winston spends most of the day sending sappy text messages, but Schmidt lets down his guard enough to order around the three additional cooks in his kitchen.
Cooking with Jess and CeCe is kind of like a food fight and Nick concentrates on peeling potatoes rather than Jess’s flushed cheeks and the pureed carrots in her hair.
Nothing blows up and there are no dead bodies and they get the food on the table at a decent hour. Still, Jess insists on a round of thanks before they eat. Schmidt is thankful for afternoon delight and Winston is thankful for four bars of cell service and Nick is thankful for all the people in his life.
He directs the sentiment at the entire group; he doesn’t take his eyes off Jess.
---
XIII. Like spinning plates…
---
They get into a fight in early December.
Nick is holding a charity event at the bar, raising money for homeless kids, and Jess wants to have a caroling contest. Nick agrees to Christmas karaoke, but draws the line at dueling versions of “Silent Night.”
It starts the way it always does, with yelling and screaming and sentences that make no sense, but it ends differently than either intended.
Nick is tired of fighting and tired of ignoring and when she gets into his face, cheeks flushed and eyes bright and wild, he silences her by kissing her.
She kisses him back. It takes him by surprise. Not the kiss exactly, but her low moan and her hands working at the buttons of his shirt and her hips grinding against his.
His back is against the refrigerator but one hand is tangled in her hair and the other is slipping under the hem of her skirt and he’s contemplating ripping her tights so he can get right to her skin.
Suddenly she pulls back to stare up at him and her eyes are wild but they’re also terrified. “Russell was right,” she says and runs, actually runs to her room.
She leaves him in the kitchen with a raging hard on and sudden hatred for the man he’s spent the last six months trying to be.
---
XIV. Avoidance is the name of the game…
---
Jess won’t talk to him.
He tries in the kitchen and her room and the living room and even the bathroom. He chases her into an elevator and down the stairs but she’s faster than he anticipated.
Three days go by and Schmidt and Winston refuse to get involved and it’s time for another plan. Not a Russell plan either, but a bona fide Nick Miller plan.
He shows up at Jess’s school and Sarah shrieks at him but he’s able to calm her down enough to get directions to Jess’s room.
She’s wearing a toga and has an evergreen wreath in her hair and she looks ridiculous but he doesn’t care because it’s what he likes about her.
“What are you doing here?” she says and tugs at the wreath. She takes it off and her hair spills down her shoulders and he digs his hands into his pockets to keep his legs from moving towards her.
“We need to talk.”
“No, nothing to talk about,” she insists but her words come out tangled and she won’t meet his gaze.
He eases his hands long enough to take a step forward and pulls his secret weapon out of his back pocket. “I brought you something.”
She can’t resist the challenge and to her credit, takes in his homemade feeling stick without laughing. It has random pieces of string and ribbon attached, some sequins from a purse some girl left at his bar, but it’s the thought that counts.
“This is a feeling stick, Jess. In its presence, you can’t hide from how you feel.”
Her eyes are huge but she doesn’t turn and run again. “Nick…”
“I feel that you’re avoiding me. Why?”
He shoves the stick in her direction and it’s her game and she can’t break the rules, so she has no choice but to open up. “I…you scared me.”
She doesn’t elaborate so he takes the stick back. “I feel you need to explain what that means.” He holds it out again.
She sighs but doesn’t back down. “I broke up with Russell because we didn’t have passion and then you kissed me and Nick...I felt those sparks all the way to my toes.“ She looks like he wants to cry and Nick tries very hard to keep the smirk off his face. “You’re my friend, we live together…I don’t want to lose that.”
She holds out the stick but he shakes his head and holds up his hands. “You once told me that I don’t talk about my feelings. Well, Jess, I like you. I want you.” He waits a beat, shoves his hands back in his pockets. “Ball’s in your court.”
She doesn’t follow him. The walk back to the car is the longest of his life.
---
XV. Taking Chances
---
She shows up at the bar right before he locks up.
She’s wearing pajamas and her hair is a mess but he stops noticing when she charges across the room and pushes him against his own bar.
“You started this,” she whispers. “Time to finish it.”
He tries to kiss her slow, make the moment last, but she’s Jess and she’s here and it’s hard to stay in control.
She pushes between his thighs and runs her hands under his t-shirt and he wants this, her, right now and she doesn’t protest when he starts taking off her clothes.
“I was wrong,” she moans as he unbuttons her pajama top and slides his mouth over her bare skin. “You were right.” She reaches down and works at his belt buckle. “I want you. Everything else can wait.”
He kisses her and it’s the only thing that matters.
~ * ~
Writers live for feedback - please leave some if you have the time.
Author: Lila
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing: Nick, Nick/Jess
Spoiler: “See Ya”
Length: one-shot
Summary: Nick buys a bar, channels Russell, and woos Jess along the way
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing them for a few paragraphs
Author’s Note: There are many things I love about “New Girl” - Schmidt’s kimono, Winston’s earring, everything Nadia loves about America, Nick’s mancrush on Russell - but I love nothing as much as ‘shipping Nick and Jess. So this fic is about them, inspired by last week’s marathon and the episodes living in my dvr and my need to just write fic so I can eventually finish “Paradise Circus.” So, this is it. Title and cut courtesy of Led Zeppelin (and seriously, this song fits Nick/Jess perfectly). Enjoy.
~ * ~
I. Falling Time
Nick wakes up the morning after with a crick in his neck. Which makes sense, because he used his shoes for a pillow, but it also means he can’t really move.
He’s not not even sure that he wants to. The sun is spilling through the windows and it feels good on his face, warm and bright, like the start of something new. Which is what he’s doing, even though he left his new-old girlfriend to go live in his old-new apartment because of his new-new roommate.
“I want you to be happy,” Jess had said and he hadn’t been able to see her face in the darkness, but he’d still known that she’d meant every word that she’d said.
He makes a list because he still can’t move his neck and that means time to kill.
He doesn’t know what makes him happy. He knows it’s not Caroline. Really, truly, for real knows it’s not Caroline. It’s not law school . Or teaching. Or growing tomatoes. And much as he wishes it were, it’s definitely not inventing things.
He doesn’t really like tending bar either, but he does like listening to stories about people’s lives that are actually worse than his. He shifts and his head rolls off his left shoe, but something clicks in his neck and he’s able to push himself into a sitting position.
He calls for Jess to help with the rest.
She makes him eggs and puts an icepack on his neck and he knows this: he’s tired of being the sad guy all the time.
---
II. WWRD? (What Would Russell Do?)
---
Nick knows he needs a plan - a plan that goes beyond unpacking the boxes that currently contain all his worldly possessions - but moving back into his own home seems like a good start.
He puts the bed back and then his dresser and then starts filling the drawers with clothes. Nothing is folded particularly well and he resists the urge to ask Jess for help. He let her make him breakfast the day before; he doesn’t need her taking care of him anymore.
The sweater is hidden at the bottom of a box, underneath his dvds, and it’s the only article of clothing that isn’t covered in wrinkles. It’s neatly folded and still soft and smells like doing everything right.
He remembers that day in Russell’s study, the duck and the hat and especially the sweater, but he mostly remembers what Russell said, ”I realized I wanted to grow up. That’s what happens."
Nick knows that he doesn’t have a kid or a koi pond or a Japanese toilet, but he wants more than wrinkled t-shirts and a bed he bought off craigslist.
He wants…he knows exactly what he wants.
It involves putting on the sweater and practicing a speech, waiting for Schmidt and Winston to leave, listening for the dull hum of Jess watching tv.
She’s out there and she’s alone and he goes over his lines one last time, takes off the sweater and carefully folds it before taking a deep breath.
It’s now or never; he can’t always be that guy who never starts anything.
Jess is wearing pajamas and glasses and she looks sleepy and exhausted, but still smiles like she’s happy to see him. And the thing is, the thing that always amazes him, is that he knows she actually is.
“Hey,” she says softly. “How’s it feel to be home?”
“Will you take out a loan for me?” he blurts out and blows the opportunity for her to agree to the plan.
“What?”
He takes a breath, rubs his cheeks and tries again. “I’m going to open a bar,” he tells her.
Her eyes go wide but her smile is wider, especially when she vaults off the couch and lands in his arms. “Nick! Way to be brave, buddy!”
He takes a step back to find his balance and thinks about holding her tighter, because she’s soft and round in his arms and smells good. Better than he remembered. But she’s sniffing at his collar, her nose brushing the skin of his throat, and before he can react she’s pulling back and staring at him, her brow crinkling under the thick frames of her glasses.
“Why do you smell like Russell?”
“Is that a good thing?” he asks and prays the answer is yes. He can’t deal with her backsliding again.
She shrugs instead. “I didn’t know you wanted to be a fancyman.”
“I don’t. I just want to own my own bar.”
She pauses and he thinks she’ll say no. His heart sinks deep into his gut, almost as deep as the last time that Caroline left him, so deep he wonders if it will find its way out. But then she smiles again, that smile that tells him the only answer can be yes. “I’m not giving you money but I will cosign your loan.”
He has enough law school under his belt to know what that means and this time he’s the one to throw his arms around her and spin them around the room. She’s singing when he sets her down but it’s a song he knows and he joins in, ”We’re all in the mood for a melody and you’ve got us feeling alright.” His voice hasn’t improved much since that time Schmidt’s buddy stood her up, but it doesn’t really matter.
He likes how well their voices compliment each other.
---
III. Rainbows and Unicorns
---
Jess wears a dress to their loan interview that makes her eyes even bluer and her smile even brighter. He wears a pair of FatSchmit’s dress pants and his suspenders and Winston’s sports coat. He looks like a homeless professor, but the loan officer can’t stop staring at Jess.
“I know his credit score is low,” she says and bats her eyelashes again, smiles sadly, and Nick watches the officer’s cheeks turn bright red. “It’s just that this is his dream. You’re not going to kill his dream, are you?”
Nick can see the guy cracking but there are rules and regulations he’s not willing to break. He’s ready to give up and give in when Jess tries one last time.
She smiles and opens her mouth. “What would you do if I sang out of tune? Would you stand up and walk out on me?”
The loan officer stares at her for a good thirty seconds and Nick gets ready to run, but instead the guy’s cheeks turn an even darker shade of red and his mouth opens too. “Lend me your ears and I’ll sing you a song and I’ll try not to sing out of key.”
Jess’s smile only widens and she even reaches across the desk to take the guy’s hand in hers. “I get by with a little help from my friends. I get high with a little help from my friends. Going to try with a little help from my friends.”
Nick’s own mouth drops open and he wonders if he wandered into an episode of “The Twilight Zone”, but he snaps it closed when the loan officer starts signing paperwork.
“Don’t make me regret this,” he says sternly but he still blushes whenever he looks at Jess.
Nick is amazed by her. “How do you do it?”
She shrugs. “I am who I am.”
Nick signs his name on the dotted line. He’s lucky to have her in his life.
---
IV. Make it Rain
---
Nick waits until the paperwork is processed before telling Schmidt and Winston.
Schmidt runs around the apartment cheering but Winston clasps his shoulder and gives him a manhug. “I’m happy for you,” he says.
Nick pulls away. “I’m going to do you one better. I don’t have all the money I owe you, but I can give you an open tab for life.”
Winston smiles and there’s that tug in Nick’s gut again.
It feels good to do the right thing.
---
V. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure
---
Nick buys his old bar. Pete wants to retire and Nick practically runs the place most week nights and he brings Jess along to bat her eyelids into Pete giving him a decent price.
Jess thinks she’s there for moral support, but it works and he’s a couple hundred thousand dollars poorer but the owner of a bar that looks like it escaped from 1994.
Jess puts her hands on her hips and blows a piece of hair back from her forehead. Nick keeps his own hands locked firmly on the bar to keep from reaching over and brushing it back behind her ear. He wants to do that a lot lately, touch her, but now isn’t the time. She’s the reason he has this chance; he’s not going to blow it by getting handsy.
“We have a lot of work to do.” Jess turns and grabs his arm, tugs hard on his wrist, and the sleeves of his long-sleeved tee are pushed up to his elbows which means it’s bare skin touching bare skin.
If she notices the contact, she doesn’t react, but he can feel it everywhere and he’s grateful for the bar providing coverage past his waist.
“Come on,” Jess says and pulls him along behind her. He’s glad his flannel hits him mid-thigh.
They argue about décor on the way over. He wants a sports theme, but she wants something she describes as “Portlandia” meets “Mad Men” and he has no idea what that means, but the conversation ends with a trip to a flea market so Jess can buy vintage movie posters and street signs.
He stops protesting after the first poster for “Easy Rider.” It’s not like he’s going to win the argument and covering the walls with Cubs and Bears signs does seem played out.
“You want people to do more than drink,” she tells him. “You want them to stay and hang out.” She adds a poster for the original “Battlestar Galactica” to their pile. “Remind them where they came from and they’ll never leave.” He follows behind her, foam-backed posters stacked under his arm, and lets her set the rules. She hasn’t steered him wrong yet.
“What do you think of this?” she asks and holds up a wooden plaque that says “Home.” There are four elephants, three large and one small, and it’s totally her kind of thing but not right for his bar.
“I don’t think it fits your theme.”
She smacks him lightly. “No, for our keys in the loft. Will the guys like it?”
Before, the loft was the place where he played video games and drank beer and watched Bulls games with Winston. The loft was where he loved Caroline and hated Caroline and mourned Caroline and loved her some more. The loft was bad wiring and shoddy construction and appliances that never seemed to work at the same time.
He glances at the plaque again, the sweet, honest smile on her face, and feels one of his own creep across his mouth.
The loft isn’t just a place to live anymore. She’s made his house into a home.
---
VI. Fancyman, fancy plans
---
Nick pulls a move from of Russell’s playbook and takes Jess to an expensive dinner to say thank you.
It’s the end of August and she’s spent her entire summer helping him get ready for the grand opening. There was paint and contractors and arguing over chairs and almost forgetting to apply for the liquor license, and when it’s all said and done, he almost killed her three times but he wouldn’t have been able to do it without her.
So he tells her to wear a dress and heels and borrows Schmidt’s car. He drives at a snail’s pace to the restaurant and spends most of the trip yelling at other drivers and trying to ignore the long expanse of Jess’s legs. He’s seen her in a dress like this before, but there were fake teeth involved and they pretty much killed the mood. Tonight her dress is red and the same color as her lipstick and her eyes are enormous and blue. It’s just the two of them, no props in sight.
He gets them there without incident or copping a feel and is grateful that their table is ready because his pants are feeling super tight.
Jess looks at the menu like there’s a treasure map hidden and can’t seem to choose anything. “What do you think is good here?” she asks.
Nick glances at the menu and even though he’s a college graduate with three semesters of law school behind him, he doesn’t know what “squab" is. “No clue,” he says. “Why don’t you dip your toe in the pool of possibility?” A look of horror flashes across her face as her cheeks blush red and Nick laughs. “Too soon?”
Jess takes a sip of water. “It will never be long enough.”
Nick decides on the rib eye and closes his menu. “Seriously, though. Have whatever you like.”
Jess opens the menu again and hums under her breath. She’s been spending too much time with Schmidt because Nick recognizes the song. “I said you can have whatever you like.”
He takes a long sip of wine and looks desperately for the waitress. He knows he's been spending too much time with Schmidt because he knows the next line, ”Late night sex so wet so tight…”
He tries to think about anything else except that song and Jess’s dress and the way she’s catching her bottom lip between her teeth while looking at the menu.
He tries to think about Schmidt’s inter-galactic tea ceremony and a ménage a trois with his landlord and whatever lived in that box that “Neil” brought with him.
Mostly, he thinks about Jess that night in the desert and how she told him to be happy. He makes the mistake of glancing at her, menu closed and a triumphant smile lighting up her face.
Happiness is her in his bed wearing nothing but that smile.
---
VII. Time of Your Life
---
He calls the bar “The Jar” and it’s not the best name but the theme sticks.
Jess makes him buy mason jars instead of glasses and there’s a “Douchebag Jar” on every table in the room. They collect tips in empty pickle containers and even the light bulbs used to house jam and jelly.
It seems a bit much to him, but it’s a hit on opening night. He gets a good write up in the “LA Times” and CeCe convinces her roommates to come and TMZ makes a brief appearance.
All in all, he thinks he might be a success and he doesn’t know what’s scarier: the threat of failure or the possibility that he might get it right.
Jess is the last one left standing. Winston has gone home with Shelby and Schmidt’s trying to work it out with CeCe again, and it’s late so she collapses onto a stool and rests her head on her arms.
“You’re a hit,” she tells him sleepily.
He laughs and slides a mason jar across the bar.
She perks up and lifts her head and even with makeup smeared under her eyes, she’s beautiful. “What’s this?”
“Signature drink. Try it.”
She warily takes sip and then another, and then puts it down so she can smile at him. “It’s delicious. What’s in it?”
Nick shrugs and starts drying jars. “Rosé, raspberry liquor, some other things I can’t reveal. I’m thinking of calling it the Pink and Slutty.”
She laughs, but her expression is serious and she’s only had two sips of her drink but she pushes it away. “I’m so proud of you.”
He keeps polishing jars. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”
“Maybe, but you were the one who started it. You started something, Nick, and look how much you’ve achieved.”
He glances around the bar and it’s almost last call but mostly full. The décor is cool but understated and the chairs aren’t too fancy and everyone looks like they’re having a great time. “I guess I did good.”
Jess takes the jar out of his grip and rests her hands on his wrists, using the leverage to lean in and press her lips to his cheek. Her hair is soft where it tickles his cheek and she smells good, so good he almost turns his head and does what he’s wanted to do for months now.
He calls her a cab instead.
He’s begun to like the person he’s become, but that guy isn’t ready for anyone else yet.
---
VIII. When I Grow Up
---
Nick starts earning money, but he doesn’t let it get to his head.
He opens a savings account and starts paying off his law school debt. Few things have felt better than getting a cellphone without being ashamed of his credit score.
He buys clothes that aren’t made of flannel or cotton and even gets his hair cut on a regular basis.
He pays back Winston but lets him keep the tab. He gives Schmidt one too.
Girls throw themselves at him but he doesn’t go home with them - even the ones who are his own age.
---
IX. Hate the Game, Not the Player
---
Jess starts dating someone in October.
His name is Ben and they meet through the afterschool program he runs at her school, but he mostly spends his time surfing and playing guitar on the beach. Which means he’s tanned and toned and Nick hates him on sight.
Jess brings him around after a few weeks and the nothing is wrong with the guy except his hair and his job and the fact that he’s dating Jess, and Nick can’t help glaring at him all night long.
“Niiiiiick,” Jess hisses and elbows him in the ribs. “Stop making the turtle face.”
He puts his hood up instead and goes for a beer run. He doesn’t do anything stupid like calling Caroline or Amanda or one of the college girls he met through Dirk and considers it progress.
It’s Winston who puts it in perspective. “You know what she’s doing, right?” he asks and opens another beer. There’s a Bears game on their satellite and Nick’s been trying to concentrate and not wonder what Jess is doing, but Winston’s question catches him off guard.
“What are you talking about?”
“Jess and surfer? He’s the poor man’s version of you.”
Nick doesn’t understand. There can’t be a poorer version of himself and he tells Winston as much. And that Ben’s hair is stupid.
Winston shakes his head. “She’s telling you something. You’re just not listening.”
Nick pauses the game. “What am I missing?”
Winston turns to face him and his eyes are wiser than Nick’s ever seen. “She’s not too good for you. That’s what you’re missing.” Winston grabs the remote and the game switches back on but Nick misses most of it.
He isn’t ready even if she is.
---
X. What’s good for the goose…
---
Jess breaks up with Ben. A week later, Nick goes out with one of CeCe’s model friends.
She mostly works for “Nylon” and she’s pretty in a dirty kind of way. Nick takes her for drinks but can’t pay attention to most of what she says. He’s sure she’s interesting, to someone, but name dropping isn’t spontaneous singing and mustache tattoos aren’t weird glasses.
He spends most of the night wanting to call Jess.
---
XI. This One’s On Me
---
His cancer scare was just a scare, but Nick doesn’t forget.
It’s right before Thanksgiving when he does his first shift for the “Barman’s Fund” and Jess stumbles in.
It’s early, even for happy hour, and she isn’t drunk, just tired, and immediately orders a Pink and Slutty. “What’s going on here?” she asks, gesturing vaguely to the cancer charity signs around the bar. Even her hand motions are exhausted and she mostly looks like she’s batting air.
“Barman’s Fund,” Nick explains. “All tips go to charity.”
She doesn’t say anything but the pride in her smile tugs hard at his gut.
---
XII. (non)Dudesgiving
---
No one invites any guests to Thanksgiving this year.
Except CeCe, but she and Schmidt are trying to work things out and she’s practically related to Jess and doesn’t really count.
Shelby goes to her parents’ and Winston spends most of the day sending sappy text messages, but Schmidt lets down his guard enough to order around the three additional cooks in his kitchen.
Cooking with Jess and CeCe is kind of like a food fight and Nick concentrates on peeling potatoes rather than Jess’s flushed cheeks and the pureed carrots in her hair.
Nothing blows up and there are no dead bodies and they get the food on the table at a decent hour. Still, Jess insists on a round of thanks before they eat. Schmidt is thankful for afternoon delight and Winston is thankful for four bars of cell service and Nick is thankful for all the people in his life.
He directs the sentiment at the entire group; he doesn’t take his eyes off Jess.
---
XIII. Like spinning plates…
---
They get into a fight in early December.
Nick is holding a charity event at the bar, raising money for homeless kids, and Jess wants to have a caroling contest. Nick agrees to Christmas karaoke, but draws the line at dueling versions of “Silent Night.”
It starts the way it always does, with yelling and screaming and sentences that make no sense, but it ends differently than either intended.
Nick is tired of fighting and tired of ignoring and when she gets into his face, cheeks flushed and eyes bright and wild, he silences her by kissing her.
She kisses him back. It takes him by surprise. Not the kiss exactly, but her low moan and her hands working at the buttons of his shirt and her hips grinding against his.
His back is against the refrigerator but one hand is tangled in her hair and the other is slipping under the hem of her skirt and he’s contemplating ripping her tights so he can get right to her skin.
Suddenly she pulls back to stare up at him and her eyes are wild but they’re also terrified. “Russell was right,” she says and runs, actually runs to her room.
She leaves him in the kitchen with a raging hard on and sudden hatred for the man he’s spent the last six months trying to be.
---
XIV. Avoidance is the name of the game…
---
Jess won’t talk to him.
He tries in the kitchen and her room and the living room and even the bathroom. He chases her into an elevator and down the stairs but she’s faster than he anticipated.
Three days go by and Schmidt and Winston refuse to get involved and it’s time for another plan. Not a Russell plan either, but a bona fide Nick Miller plan.
He shows up at Jess’s school and Sarah shrieks at him but he’s able to calm her down enough to get directions to Jess’s room.
She’s wearing a toga and has an evergreen wreath in her hair and she looks ridiculous but he doesn’t care because it’s what he likes about her.
“What are you doing here?” she says and tugs at the wreath. She takes it off and her hair spills down her shoulders and he digs his hands into his pockets to keep his legs from moving towards her.
“We need to talk.”
“No, nothing to talk about,” she insists but her words come out tangled and she won’t meet his gaze.
He eases his hands long enough to take a step forward and pulls his secret weapon out of his back pocket. “I brought you something.”
She can’t resist the challenge and to her credit, takes in his homemade feeling stick without laughing. It has random pieces of string and ribbon attached, some sequins from a purse some girl left at his bar, but it’s the thought that counts.
“This is a feeling stick, Jess. In its presence, you can’t hide from how you feel.”
Her eyes are huge but she doesn’t turn and run again. “Nick…”
“I feel that you’re avoiding me. Why?”
He shoves the stick in her direction and it’s her game and she can’t break the rules, so she has no choice but to open up. “I…you scared me.”
She doesn’t elaborate so he takes the stick back. “I feel you need to explain what that means.” He holds it out again.
She sighs but doesn’t back down. “I broke up with Russell because we didn’t have passion and then you kissed me and Nick...I felt those sparks all the way to my toes.“ She looks like he wants to cry and Nick tries very hard to keep the smirk off his face. “You’re my friend, we live together…I don’t want to lose that.”
She holds out the stick but he shakes his head and holds up his hands. “You once told me that I don’t talk about my feelings. Well, Jess, I like you. I want you.” He waits a beat, shoves his hands back in his pockets. “Ball’s in your court.”
She doesn’t follow him. The walk back to the car is the longest of his life.
---
XV. Taking Chances
---
She shows up at the bar right before he locks up.
She’s wearing pajamas and her hair is a mess but he stops noticing when she charges across the room and pushes him against his own bar.
“You started this,” she whispers. “Time to finish it.”
He tries to kiss her slow, make the moment last, but she’s Jess and she’s here and it’s hard to stay in control.
She pushes between his thighs and runs her hands under his t-shirt and he wants this, her, right now and she doesn’t protest when he starts taking off her clothes.
“I was wrong,” she moans as he unbuttons her pajama top and slides his mouth over her bare skin. “You were right.” She reaches down and works at his belt buckle. “I want you. Everything else can wait.”
He kisses her and it’s the only thing that matters.
~ * ~
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