Hi!

So, this is my first New Girl fic. I'm pretty nervous about it. I love the show and the dynamics of the loft, so hopefully I've done an alright job at capturing it.

Let me know if anything or anyone is out of character so that I can work on it in the future! I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

I don't own New Girl or any related characters.

Shockwaves

December 26, 2014

"Jess, are you sure you don't need any help with that?" Winston asked. His voice hardly concealed his anxiety.

Jess whirled around from her place beside the sink, absently swinging the large butcher knife she was chopping onions with around as she went. Winston winced involuntarily as the blade caught the low light from the living room, glinting menacingly as it did. "Winston, would you relax? I got this," she gestured toward the cutting board with her free hand, flashed him her signature crooked grin, and returned to her chopping.

"Winston, if you're just going to sit there like a useless lump, you might as well help us by getting the packaging off of these steaks." Schmidt hauled an armful of steaks – six of them, to be exact – onto the kitchen island in front of where Winston was sitting. Winston just barely managed to swipe his beer out of the way before the counter shuddered under the shockwaves.

"Um…" Winston watched Schmidt meticulously clean his hands and upper arms in the kitchen sink. Jess was humming some melody that sounded distinctly Disney, swinging her hips slightly to the beat. That girl is gonna cut one of her fingers off before we even make it to dinner, Winston thought. He took a swig of beer.

Schmidt, still elbows deep in the sink, whipped around and shot Winston a look of outrage. "Winston, unwrap, now!" He commanded, oblivious to the bubbles rising in the sink.

"Yeah, I'm gonna pass," Winston answered, sliding sideways off the barstool and quickly shuffling toward the couch.

"Aw, c'mon, Winston," Jess whined over her onions. "We can't make this whole dinner by ourselves."

"I still don't get why you're making such a big deal over this," Winston said as he sank into the couch cushions. "Y'all know Nick hates this kind of stuff,"

"Winston, it's his birthday," Jess said, as if that changed his mind.

"For far too long I have been forced to eat disgusting greasy hobo food for my best friend's birthday." Schmidt said, suddenly adopting the air of a soldier recalling the horrors of battle. "Sure, at first, I thought it was great. Hell, I even encouraged it. But that was before," Schmidt seized one of the steaks and curled it toward his chest, attempting to subtly flex his bicep as he went.

"Jar," Jess sang without looking around.

Schmidt instantly dropped the steak and looked to Winston, expression imploring. Winston merely nodded.

"Damn it!" He cried, fishing his wallet out of his dress pants and ripping a five dollar bill out. He stalked toward the jar, ignoring Jess' amused snickering, and slammed the bill down inside. It bounced a little on top of the other bills with the force of Schmidt's throw. Almost time to trade that in for alcohol, Winston thought briefly as Schmidt angrily replaced his wallet in his pocket and reclaimed his place behind the island.

"Jess, seriously, you and knives…" Winston said, trying and failing to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Jess smirked at him through her bangs. "What, are you worried about me or something?" She teased.

"Not gonna lie, the thought of you with sharp blades…makes me a little nervous." Winston said, shrugging as Schmidt slid up beside her curiously.

"Jess, you're doing it all wrong," he said, reaching around her to grab the knife.

"Whoa, hold up," she pulled the knife back almost violently, sticking her free hand out and planting it in the middle of his chest. "What are you doing?"

"I was gonna show you how to properly dice a white onion," Winston winced at his over-pronunciation at the wh- in 'white.'

"Schmidt, look, it's diced. What do you even mean, properly -"

Schmidt laughed forcefully, his face inches from Jess'. "You call that diced? Oh, Jessica," he seemed to deflate a little, his smile wide and condescending. He shook his head and tutted. "You poor thing. You probably think corn from a can is the freshest way to buy corn, don't you?"

Winston immediately recognized Jess' sudden change in demeanor. One hip cocked, one hand on said hip, head tilted back and to the side just slightly. She was preparing for a fight. He quickly sat his beer down and nearly vaulted the back of the couch.

"Listen, Schmidt," she said, voice ringing with that hard edge they rarely heard but fully dreaded. Winston reached slowly for the knife, but Jess jerked it away as she took a step toward Schmidt. "I know how to dice onions. And, yeah, maybe I do eat canned corn. But, in case you've forgotten, this dinner was my idea. I thought of making your best friend's birthday dinner. And you didn't."

Schmidt seemed to deflate, so Jess turned back to her cutting board with a triumphant grin. For just a split second, the three of them stood there, Schmidt and Winston flanking Jess as she towered over what was left of the mostly-diced onion. Winston held his breath as she grabbed the last solid chunk of white onion and cut. One, two, three. She flipped the board and went again. One, two –

"Nick is my best friend!" Schmidt suddenly cried. Three. Jess screamed.

The onion was diced and red. Wait. Jess dropped the knife with a clatter, but she was oblivious to the sound. She whipped around, left hand clutched in her right, and red was dripping down her wrist at an alarmingly fast rate. Jess was still screaming, her voice getting more and more shrill, and Schmidt hit the ground. Hard.

And suddenly, understanding washed through Winston faster than a tsunami and he immediately sprang into action. He seized a dish towel from the counter beside the sink and thrust it into Jess' arms. "Hold it above your head!" He shouted as he raced out of the kitchen. His phone was in his room, which he had never realized was impossibly far away from the kitchen until that moment. He ripped his phone out of the charger and grabbed the half-full glass of water from his bedside table before racing back into the kitchen. Jess' hand was thrust high into the air above her head, wrapped in the already blood-soaked dish towel he'd just given her. She was no longer howling, but now she was doing some weird high-pitched moaning thing. And crying. God, she was crying really hard. Nausea twisted his stomach at the sight. How bad is it? Oh, God, Nick's gonna kill me…

"Schmidt!" Winston shouted, dumping the contents of his day-old water on Schmidt's face. Schmidt immediately sprang to life, roaring and swinging his arms blindly, before reality came back to him. "Get up, get your car, now!" Schmidt obeyed, his expression dumbfounded as he stared at Jess. "Jess, come on, let's go. We gotta get you to the emergency room."

A fresh wave of sobs wracked her body as she allowed Winston to wrap an arm around her waist and guide her out of the kitchen, careful to avoid the puddle Schmidt had just occupied. He slammed the front door shut behind them, rolling his eyes at the distant sound of Schmidt banging down the staircase in an effort to beat the elevator. The doors of said elevator slid open only moments later, and Winston ushered Jess inside and hit the ground floor button.

The ninety seconds it took the elevator to rattle all the way down those four floors seemed like eternity and a half to Winston. He felt like he'd aged through a hundred lifetimes by the time the doors finally slid open again. He helped Jess through, trying to ignore the fact that she was leaning more heavily on him. Her arm was lowering; he grabbed it and forced it up over their heads. "Jess, talk to me, is it bad?"

She mumbled something he could not hear over the squealing halt Schmidt made in his car just outside the front doors. It was almost dark out; the streetlights were already blazing over the street, casting an eerie orange glow around Schmidt's car. Winston shouldered the front door open and held it for Jess, who shuffled awkwardly past him and stumbled toward Schmidt's car. Outside Dave shouted something at them as Winston opened the back door and pushed Jess inside, but Winston did not even react to him. Honestly, he couldn't even hear him.

"Go, Schmidt," Winston commanded from the back seat. He wrapped an arm around Jess' shoulders and pulled her closer to him, lifting his chin when her head lolled toward his chest. "Jess, Jess," he jostled her slightly, small stabs of relief lodging into his heart when she mumbled something against him. "C'mon, we're on the way," Winston muttered as Schmidt whipped around a corner faster than Winston ever thought possible.

With his other hand, Winston was clumsily trying to find Nick's number. He was still at the bar, about half an hour away from finishing his shift, which meant that hopefully by the time he got the message, Jess would be fine and Nick could busy himself with taking care of her. That's what he likes to do, Winston thought as he brought the ringing phone up to his ear. He likes to protect her.

"Hey, it's Nick. You know what to do." Nick's recorded voice brought a small but welcome wave of relief through Winston's mind. He really didn't want to explain this live.

"Nick, it's Winston. We've got a situation. Call me when you get this."

"It wasn't my fault, Nick!" Schmidt cried from the front seat.

"Shut up, Schmidt, it was one-hundred percent your fault, you're the one who scared her and now look at her!" Winston screeched. "Nick, seriously, call me, okay? It's an emergency."

"Nick…?" Jess asked drowsily. Winston grimaced and flipped his phone shut, clutching it in his hand so that he would definitely feel it vibrate.

"He's, uh…he's on the way, he's gonna meet us up there." Winston lied. Schmidt met his eyes in the rear-view mirror. Winston shrugged.

Schmidt dropped them off at the entrance to the emergency room, peeling out the moment the back door shut to find a parking spot. Jess was really struggling by then, her feet hardly lifting from the ground as she attempted to walk. Winston practically dragged her into the emergency room.

Luckily, it was empty, and the moment the nurse behind the window spotted Jess' slumped form she and two others raced through the big swinging doors with a wheelchair in hand. Two of them took Jess from him, easing her into the wheelchair before carting her away, while the third glared at Winston accusatorily. "What happened?" She asked, her tone clipped.

"I…she…uh…" Winston rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously and was surprised by the sudden wet feeling there. He drew his hand back and nearly retched at the sight of blood on his fingers. He hadn't even noticed Jess bleeding on him when he held her arm up back at the loft. "Oh, oh no, that's not…this wasn't…"

"Just tell me what happened."

"Okay, well, it's my roommate's birthday today, and he like hates making a big deal out his birthday, which I tried to tell them, but they were like weirdly determined to make a big deal out of it so I just kind of let them and then Schmidt was being Schmidt and he got all weird about corn and dicing onions and Jess was like 'this was my idea' and then Schmidt scared her on accident and she cut herself…" Confusion was evident on the nurse's face. "Okay, wait, let me go back -"

"So she cut herself dicing onions because someone scared her?"

At that precise moment, Schmidt burst through the emergency room doors. "I'm here, Jessica!" He cried, but stopped short when he spotted the nurse and Winston.

"Yeah, he did," Winston said, turning back to the nurse and jamming a thumb over his shoulder. The nurse almost snarled before turning away.

"Sit down." She called over her shoulder before disappearing behind the doors. A new nurse appeared in the window.

Winston and Schmidt sat, staring at the doors in silence. Winston's phone was balanced on his knee, away from Schmidt, and Winston could feel Schmidt's eyes gravitate toward it repeatedly.

Ten minutes after the nurses took Jess back, Winston's phone rang. Schmidt, predictably, dove toward it, but years of Latvian basketball provided Winston with the reflexes necessary to rip the phone away before Schmidt was even really reaching for it.

"Nick," Winston said breathlessly.

"Let me talk to him, give me the phone," Schmidt muttered quietly, trying to wrestle the phone out of Winston's grasp.

"Uh, no," a feminine voice filtered through the other end of the phone. Winston froze for a moment. "It's Shelby?"

"Shelby, honey, I'm sorry," he said, waving Schmidt down. "I didn't check the screen before I answered. What's up?"

"I was just gonna see if you were busy tonight. I rented that movie we were talking about seeing together last week," she sang. Winston quickly racked his brain for the memory of that conversation, and came up empty.

"Oh, baby, you know I would, but I can't tonight. It's Nick's birthday and I'm in the emergency room."

"Wait, what? You're in the emergency room? Winston –"

"Whoa, wait, not me. It's Jess. Schmidt and I had to take Jess to the ER. I'm okay." He could hear her sigh in relief.

"What happened to Jess?"

"Schmidt scared her while she was dicing an onion."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. There was a lot of blood."

"Is she gonna be okay?"

"I don't know yet," Winston said truthfully. His phone beeped. He pulled it away just long enough to see Nick's name flashing across the screen. "Hey, honey, I gotta go. Nick's calling."

"Okay. Call me later. Tell Jess I said to feel better!"

"I will. Bye."

He switched to Nick's line without waiting for a goodbye. "Nick," he said.

"Dude, where the hell are you? I get home early and there's meat all over the counter and water on the floor -"

"Nick, did you listen to my message?" Winston interrupted.

"What? No. You left a message?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Is that what that circly thing is at the top of the screen?"

Winston pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes."

"Oh." Nick shuffled something. "Neat."

"Nick, you need to get to the emergency room. Right now."

"What? Why? What's going on?"

"You see that red onion on the counter by the sink?"

"Yeah?"

"That was a white onion."

"How did it…" Nick's voice trailed. Winston closed his eyes and counted all the way to four. "What happened?"

Winston was taken aback at how suddenly Nick's voice changed. Gone was the goofiness, the obliviousness, that usually permeated his words. Instead, there was a hard, protective growl that punctuated each syllable. "They were trying to make you a nice dinner for your birthday…" Winston said, suddenly feeling defeated.

"They? They, who?"

"Schmidt and Jess."

"Which one of them is it?"

"It's Jess."

Nick was quiet for a moment. "Is she okay?" He asked, and Winston heard the unmistakable sound of keys jingling and the front door slamming closed.

"They took her back about ten minutes ago. We haven't heard a word since." Winston glanced around and spotted Schmidt by the window, chatting with the new nurse. Winston rolled his eyes.

"Jesus," Nick muttered. "How did it happen? She's usually pretty good about kitchen safety, remember that damn seminar she put us through?"

Winston smiled involuntarily at the memory of a horrified Schmidt doused in flour after the inevitable food fight broke out ten minutes into Jess' safety course. He'd never seen Jess laugh that hard. "Yeah, uh…Schmidt was being…y'know…"

"Schmidt? Was he being Schmidt?" Nick sounded angry now. Winston heard Nick's car engine roaring to life. "Goddammit, what did he do to her?"

"He scared her. On accident." Winston added hastily. Nick sighed heavily, the sound like a gale-force wind against a window in Winston's ear. "They were arguing and he screamed really suddenly and it scared her. She jumped and cut herself with the knife. He didn't mean to."

"That doesn't mean I won't kill that asshole." Nick muttered. He sounded murderous. "What did she do, how bad was her reaction?"

"Well, she…uh…she was screaming. Schmidt fainted." Winston examined his blood-stained hand with disinterest. "She cried. There was a lot of blood, Nick. A lot."

There was a strange sound, foreign to Winston, and it took a moment for him to realize that Nick had just whimpered. Like, full-on whimpered. "I'm gonna kill him, I'm gonna strangle him with my bare hands…" he muttered hoarsely.

"Look, Nick, I'm sure she's gonna be okay. This is Jess we're talking about, here. She'll be alright." Winston said in his best attempt at a soothing tone.

"Yeah, we'll see." He mumbled. "I'm almost there. Gotta park. Two minutes." Winston grimaced. Nick only shortened his sentences that much when he was really, really pissed.

"See you in a minute," Winston said. The line went dead. "Schmidt, get over here," Winston snapped. Schmidt immediately scuttled to his side, glancing back at the nurse and then to Winston apologetically. "What the hell are you thinking? You're seriously hitting on the nurse while we're here with Jess?"

"I was trying to gather information, Winston. Honestly, have a little faith in me for once in your life."

"No. No. You're not guilt-tripping me when it's your fault that we're here in the first place."

"And I feel guilty about that. Really, I do. The moment Jess is well enough to receive visitors, I fully intend to give her my deepest, most sincere apologies. As soon as she admits that Nick is my best friend."

"What?" Schmidt refused to make eye-contact with Winston, choosing instead to fix his gaze on the corner of the room. "Schmidt. Schmidt. You put her in the hospital. Chill with the best friend crap. She didn't even say that she was his best friend or anything."

Schmidt frowned thoughtfully. He opened his mouth to speak, but at that precise moment, the emergency room entrance doors slid open, allowing a positively glowering Nick to lumber through. Schmidt cowered behind Winston instantly. Nick was panting, his shoulders squared, jaw set, eyes radiating fury as they swept through the room. He spotted Winston, and immediately dropped his gaze to Schmidt. His eyes narrowed to slits. "You." Nick breathed, pointing to Schmidt with one hand and clenching his other into a fist.

"It was an accident, it was an accident!" Schmidt cried as Nick darted forward. Winston stuck his arms out, mostly to keep his balance, as Nick and Schmidt began to circle each other around him.

"You idiot! What did you do?"

"I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!" Schmidt was spinning Winston around by his shoulders, desperately clinging to his only shield. Nick grunted and growled as he tried to find an opening around Winston to hit Schmidt.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Nick shouted. "I should be at home with a beer watching the game right now, but instead I'm in the fucking hospital because you put Jess in the ER on my birthday!"

"Nick Miller?" A female voice rang out over the commotion. The boys went still immediately, frozen in their positions – Schmidt using Winston as a human shield, Winston desperately trying to gain back his equilibrium, Nick reaching around Winston to choke Schmidt – and they stared at the nurse.

"Yeah?" Nick said, his arms slowly lowering back to his sides.

"You're Jessica Day's emergency contact," the nurse said, glancing down at an open file in her hands before looking back up at him.

"I am?" He asked incredulously.

"Um," she glanced down again, flipped one page, and then flipped it back. "Yes." She nodded.

"I thought it was Cece. She told me it was Cece." Nick muttered, mostly to himself. "Are you sure it's not Cece?"

"The contact name says 'Nick Miller,'" the nurse said, a note of impatience coloring her voice. Nick shuddered. It was a small movement, almost unnoticeable, but to Winston it was plain as day.

"Okay. Yeah. Uh, that's me. I'm Nick." He lifted his hand as he walked toward the nurse, as if he was introducing himself, before catching himself and shoving that hand into his pocket. "How's Jess?" He asked, his voice suddenly low and husky and weird.

"The cut is fairly deep." The nurse said, eyeing Winston and Schmidt with a hint of curiosity on her face. Winston realized it was because neither one of them had moved. They stepped away from each other quickly, Schmidt straightening his loosened tie self-consciously. "It barely hit her radial artery, which is what caused the large amount of blood, but we got the wound closed quickly. She lost enough blood to feel a little woozy, but she's recovering pretty quickly."

"So…so, she'll be okay?" Nick asked, his brow furrowed.

The nurse nodded. "She'll be able to go home tonight." She said, flipping the file closed and smiling a tight-lipped smile at Nick. "Would you like to come back and see her?"

"Could we?" Nick gestured back toward Winston and Schmidt. The nurse nodded again. "Schmidt." Nick growled. Schmidt froze. "When we get back there, stand in the corner and do not touch her."

"But –"

"No buts. This can be your birthday present to me. Don't even think about touching her. Got it?"

"Nick, I think -"

"Got it?"

"Okay, alright! I got it!" Schmidt's shoulders were hunched in sullen defeat as Nick led the way into the emergency room, following the nurse through a maze of hallways lined with small, empty rooms. Two nurses in one room, apparently deep in conversation, caught Winston's eye, and they both looked around as he passed. They met his awkward finger-gun salute with confused scowls.

"Tough crowd," Winston muttered under his breath.

Jess was sitting up, or rather, was propped up on a small mountain of pillows, when the nurse finally opened her door. She looked around as they entered and her entire demeanor brightened when she spotted the three of them.

"Jess," Nick muttered, rushing to her side and only pausing long enough to drag a chair in the corner closer to the bed so that he could be perched right beside her. Winston winced at the white bandage wrapped securely around Jess' left wrist, on prominent display against her alabaster skin, as her left hand was currently clasped in Nick's.

"Hey, Nick," she said softly, her face lit with a gentle smile Winston only ever saw her give to Nick. "Happy birthday,"

Nick snorted, ducked his head down low enough that his forehead brushed the sheets tucked around Jess' frame, before looking back up at her through his lashes. "Thanks," he sighed. "You alright?" His thumb was tracing small, impulsive circles on the back of her hand.

She hummed and nodded. "M'fine," she mumbled, eyes cast down. It took him a minute to realize she was looking at the bandage. "We tried to make you a nice dinner. But I cut myself on accident. I bled a lot. Winston and Schmidt were there."

"Yeah, I know. Winston called me."

Winston cleared his throat and Jess looked around at the sound. "Winston!" She cried softly, reaching out with her right hand. Winston grinned in spite of himself and shuffled forward to take Jess' outstretched hand.

"Hey, Jess. Feelin' better?"

"Yeah. Sorry I almost passed out on you, there. Blood makes me…" her voice trailed, impossibly blue eyes trained on their hands. Winston glanced down and realized his hand was still red with her now-dry blood.

"I got it, I got it," Winston quickly pulled his hand out of Jess' and rushed to the bathroom. Over the running water, he could hear Nick murmuring something, his voice calm and soothing. By the time Winston's hands were clean and dry, Jess seemed to have calmed down, though her face was a shade paler than it had been before. Schmidt looked on anxiously from the corner. "Sorry, Jess,"

She shook her head, lips pressed firmly together. Nick grimaced and propped himself up on the bed with his right elbow, trailing his fingertips across her arm in a rhythmical movement. Jess seemed to relax further at his touch.

"Schmidt, ya got something to say?" Nick said gruffly after a few moments of silence. Jess and Winston looked to Schmidt, but from the corner of his eye, Winston noted that Nick remained intently focused on Jess' face.

"Jess…Jessica," Schmidt took a tentative step forward, hands fluttering awkwardly by his hips. "From the deepest, most non-sexually sensual -"

"Jar." Winston interrupted.

Schmidt's jaw clenched for a moment, his eyes closed, as though he was fighting back the urge to yell, but then he relaxed and nodded. "Fine. From the most sensitive recesses of my passionate -"

"Seriously, man? Jar." Nick growled.

"I don't -!" Schmidt clamped his mouth shut, looking for a moment as though he was going to crack a molar, before an almost psychotic smile broke across his features. "Jessica, from the moment you sashayed through the front door and into my life, you have introduced me to an incredible…gumdrop world…full of…of wonder and magic…unicorns...and models…"

"Goddammit, dude," Nick was suddenly out of his chair and lumbering toward Schmidt.

"No, wait! Sorry! Jess, I'm sorry!" Nick paused, chest heaving and fists clenched, while Schmidt cowered against the back wall. "I'm…I'm really sorry, okay? I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry I tried to tell you how to dice onions. It wasn't really that bad." He sounded like he was fighting the urge to vomit as he said the last part, but it was apparently enough to satisfy Nick. With one last warning glare, Nick turned back and reclaimed his place beside a smiling Jess. "Point is, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Schmidt. But don't ever try to tell me how to dice my onions again." She said, pointing a finger at him. Through the light, joking tone, Winston could detect the seriousness behind the command.

"Yes, ma'am," Schmidt mimicked the motions of tipping his hat. Jess laughed, quiet and tired, and Winston saw Nick's fingers tighten slightly around her hand at the sound. She glanced at him, still smiling, and he smiled back. There was a tenderness in his eyes that Winston had never seen before; not even with Caroline. This was something new.

"Alright, Miss Day," the nurse from before said, suddenly appearing in the doorway. She smiled professionally while avoiding Schmidt's lingering gaze. "We're all ready for you to check out, now."

"Is there, uh, I mean…are there…uh…" Nick rubbed the back of his head, glancing between the nurse and Jess. "Are there any special instructions for when she's home?"

"Not really," the nurse said. "Just keep an eye on the bandage, change it every four hours or so. If it starts bleeding again, come back immediately. Other than that, you should be fine."

Jess and Nick both nodded. Jess glanced at Nick, brow furrowed in confusion, but Nick remained focused on every word the nurse said. "Do you think you can stand, or should I go get the wheelchair?"

"I think I can stand," Jess muttered.

"Wheelchair," Nick said at the same time.

The nurse paused as Nick and Jess exchanged a look. "Uh, no, um, no wheelchair," Nick said quickly as Jess cocked her head to the side. "She's good. You're good. You're good, right?"

"I'm good."

Nick still reached out for her and took her hand. Jess allowed him to pull her to her feet. They both paused as Jess swayed on her feet slightly. Winston noted the tense stance Nick took, his free arm half outstretched, ready to catch her should she topple over. It was starting to get difficult to watch.

Jess shuffled out, allowing Nick to sling his right arm around her waist and hold her left hand in his left hand, prepared to support her full weight if she were to go down on the way out. Winston and Schmidt trailed behind, Nick's coat slung over Winston's arm and Jess' cardigan hanging over Schmidt's shoulder. "I'm driving Jess home," Nick grunted as they exited the ER.

"You sure you don't need any help?" Winston asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"No, I got her. Thanks, though. We'll see you guys back at the loft."

Winston and Schmidt stood still, watching Nick and Jess' retreating backs, before Winston sighed loudly. "That boy has it bad." He said.

"You're telling me. The other day I walked out of my room and found them on the couch, and Jess was asleep – asleep – on Nick's shoulder. And he was awake. Watching a movie. With Jess sleeping on his shoulder. Who does that? What is this, LifeTime?"

Winston snorted. Up ahead, he could see Schmidt's car parked haphazardly between two ambulances. He considered pointing out that it was probably not a particularly legal way to park, but then he remembered they were going home and he didn't really want to argue with Schmidt after everything else that had just happened.

As he slid into the passenger's seat, he considered calling Shelby back. But it was getting late and she was probably already dozed off on her couch, like they both usually were at nine o'clock on Tuesday date nights. The ride home was mostly quiet. Winston chose to keep his gaze on the passing scenery around him instead of a slightly fidgeting Schmidt.

"You're gonna have to tell Cece that you put Jess in the ER at some point," Winston said knowingly as they pulled up outside the apartment building. Schmidt's head fell back to the headrest as his hands slipped limply from the wheel.

"I don't wanna get lectured twice in one night…" he whined.

"What're you talking about? Nick didn't even lecture you, he just tried to straight up kill you."

"Oh, believe me, Winston, our dear Nicholas is nowhere near finished with me yet. The moment Jess falls asleep, I'll be getting an earful from him."

"You can't deny that you kinda deserve it," Winston pointed out. Schmidt sighed and shrugged. "C'mon, we gotta get upstairs and clean up the blood before Nick and Jess get back."

They were upstairs and cleaning in less than five minutes. Winston was just sliding the cutting board into the dishwasher when he heard the front door open. "Hey hey," he called, swinging the dishwasher shut.

Jess shuffled in first, clutching a small paper carton full of French fries close to her chest. She smiled sleepily at Winston and dug through the fries. "Want some?" She asked, offering the carton to him as she shoveled three into her mouth.

Winston chuckled and plucked a fry from the carton as Nick sidled in, arms weighed down with bags of what smelled like horribly greasy and tragically delicious fast food. He paused and kicked the front door shut. His eyes lingered on Jess for a moment before meeting Winston's. They nodded to each other, and then Nick was carting the food into the kitchen and spreading it across the kitchen island. Schmidt emerged from his room at the commotion and wrinkled his nose upon spotting the bags. "Nick, what have I told you about fast food?"

"Schmidt, if you don't shut your damn mouth right now, I'm going to kill you in your sleep." Nick swore. Schmidt closed his mouth, but not without a sullen roll of his eyes. "It's my birthday, and I wanna eat really gross food that tastes really good and makes me regret my entire life a few hours later. Got it?"

"Got it," Schmidt answered, still sounding defeated.

"Alright. Jess, you need to change out of those clothes," Jess looked around, French fries hanging out of her mouth and a confused pout on her face. "C'mon, let's go get your pajamas. You'll be much more comfortable."

She chewed and swallowed. "Nick, I'm not dying. I'm okay. I don't need your help changing into pajamas," she laughed. "Here, hold these," she handed him her French fries, that same secret smile on her face as he took them without question. This time, Winston noticed, Nick was smiling back at her. A new smile, one that made even Winston feel warm and fuzzy inside. "I'll be right back." Jess promised.

Nick watched her walk away, his eyes never leaving her until she disappeared around the corner into her room. With that, he glanced down at her fries and sighed heavily.

"Dude, you have got to make a move. Soon. This is hard to watch," Winston gestured toward Jess' room.

"I know, I just…" he groaned, running a hand through his hair. "I don't wanna screw anything up. She's…too important."

"Nick, she's crazy about you. I dunno, man. This whole thing, y'all's dynamic…it's different."

"Whaddya mean? Different how? Good different?"

"Yeah, man. Really good. I've never seen you look at anyone the way you look at Jess. And that includes Caroline."

"Alright, alright, keep your voice down." Nick glanced nervously toward Jess' room, but she did not appear. "I guess…I dunno. I'll see if she wants to go to lunch with me next week. I'll talk to her then. Good?"

"Good."

"Nick, might I make a suggestion on restaurants to woo Jessica? I've had particularly good luck at a swanky new place called Pablo's. Although, that might have had more to do with the scenery than the food, if you catch my drift." One glance cast toward Schmidt confirmed he was grinning suggestively and flexing his biceps. Again.

"Jar. You owe at least fifty."

"Fifty?" Schmidt cried. "This is an outrage!"

"You put Jess in the emergency room on my birthday!" Nick bellowed.

"How about a hundred instead?" Schmidt suggested hastily, wilting under the intense glare Nick was giving him. He slinked toward the jar as Jess reemerged in her collared, powder-blue pajamas dotted with clouds and bicycles. She smiled warmly at Schmidt as she passed, pausing only to pluck her French fries from Nick's hand before taking her place at the bar.

"What are we waiting for? Happy birthday, Miller! Let's eat!"

Within mere minutes, the four were settled around the island, food spread out conversation light. Winston was pretty sure Nick was sitting close enough to Jess that their knees were touching beneath the island, because they kept sharing glances when they thought he and Schmidt were distracted. Once or twice, Winston could have sworn he heard Jess whisper 'happy birthday' when Schmidt got into a particularly impassioned speech about the benefits of organic groceries.

Finally, about an hour later, Schmidt stood. "Well, Nick, as much as I enjoyed choking down your disgusting grease-fest, I'm going to turn in for the night." At that precise moment, Schmidt's phone began to ring. He paused, grinning and bobbing his head to the beat of his ring tone (Really, Schmidt? Call Me Maybe?) before pulling the phone out of his pocket. "Ah, Cecelia," he murmured, before sliding the answer button over. "Hello?"

"How the fuck did you put Jess in the hospital?" Cece's voice was shrill enough to echo through the entire loft. Jess snorted and ducked her head down at the sound of her best friend's voice. Nick chuckled and absently placed his hand on Jess' shoulder, squeezing gently and reassuringly. "Schmidt, I swear to God, if this is a stupid reason, I'm gonna break into the loft and saw your penis off in your sleep."

Schmidt stood quickly, muffling the phone against his chest. "I, uh, gotta go," he said before hurrying into his room and slamming the door.

"Well, that was…" Jess said, still grinning stupidly.

"Interesting," Nick finished. They both laughed, never breaking eye-contact. Winston stood and began clearing the trash off the island, trying as hard as he could to blend into the background. "So, uh…Jess…"

"Yeah?"

"Do…I mean…uh…" Nick sighed. "How are you feeling?" Winston detected defeat in Nick's voice.

"I'm okay. Really. It doesn't even really hurt anymore." Winston glanced back to find the two of them turned toward each other, both examining Jess' wrist on the island between them. They were sitting on the corner, so really, all they would have to do is lean forward and they would basically be sitting on top of each other. Nick glanced up from her wrist, taking the opportunity to study Jess' face at close proximity.

"Alright, I think I'm going to bed, too," Winston sighed, breaking them both out of their reverie. Jess pulled her arm off the island and smiled at Winston as he moved behind her. "Jess, next time I tell you to stay away from knives…please listen to me." She laughed and leaned backwards into his chest as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a backwards hug. 'Make a move!' he mouthed to Nick over the top of Jess' head. Nick closed his eyes briefly before smiling at Winston. "G'night," he said, patting between her shoulders lightly. "Nick," Winston did his best to give Nick a significant look, but he guessed it probably looked more like constipation pains, for Nick merely furrowed his brow and frowned. Turtle face, he thought. "Happy birthday, dude."

"Thanks, man," Nick said, reaching out and taking Winston's hand. They shook awkwardly. "Alright, I'm just gonna…my hand…Winston…" Nick pried his hand out of Winston's, eyes wide and bugging as Winston stepped around him. "Jesus," he muttered.

Winston was almost to his room when he heard it. "So, uh, Jess…would you, maybe…um…be free sometime this week for lunch?"

"Sure! I don't think I have any plans on Saturday. Where were you guys thinking of going?"

"Oh, uh…not…not the guys. Just you and me. Does that…I mean, is that okay?"

"Oh," Winston closed his eyes. Please, please, please… "Yeah. Of course. I mean, I'd love to."

"Good. Good. 'Cause I, y'know…I have some…uh…stuff…I wanted to talk to you about."

"Stuff?"

"Stuff."

"Can't we talk about stuff here?"

"It's…not really loft stuff."

"Oh. Okay. Saturday, then?"

"Saturday."

Winston eased his bedroom door shut and smiled to himself. It's about damn time, he thought.

Not to bug you guys for reviews, but...I'd really appreciate it if you let me know how I did!

Thanks!

- Maddy