Notes: Thank you so much for all of your really awesome reviews! Please continue to let me know what you think of the story. Also, I am so totally down to discuss the show via PM, so if you'd like to talk about anything New Girl, feel free to message me. This chapter is slightly shorter but the next one should make up for it!

Chapter Three.

Jessica knocked on Cece's door as best she could with an overnight bag tucked under one arm and her hands full of snacks and movies. She was actually very excited to be spending the evening with her best friend sans-loft drama, although she knew they couldn't avoid the subject of her roommates altogether. But it would be nice not to spend the entire night re-examining her heartbreak. She needed a break from the constant throb in her chest, and a good old-fashioned sleepover sounded like the perfect remedy.

She was already in her PJs, and when Cece opened the door, she was happy to see that her best friend was too.

"Perfect timing – I just opened a new bottle of rosé."

"I brought moooovvvvviiiiiieeeeeessssss," Jess sang happily as she followed Cece into her apartment. Cece had already spread blankets and pillows all over the floor in front of the TV, making a cozy spot for the friends to spread out and relax. The taller woman went to pour the wine as Jess spread out her additions to the set-up. Then she stuck the popcorn in the microwave and accepted a glass of wine.

"Let's get drunk and talk about boys," she said.

Cece laughed. "Real boys or movie stars we'd love to tear the clothes off of?" she asked, and Jess shrugged with a wide grin.

"We'll see where the night takes us."

Five minutes later and the two women were curled up amongst the piles of blankets and pillows watching Pitch Perfect.

"We have to sing along," Jess said.

"I'll just sing quietly," Cece replied with a laugh. "You're the one with the voice, little miss."

By the end of the movie, the room was spinning in a funny, pleasant way and both women were giggling as Jess tried to explain how the romance in the movie could have been improved.

"Jess, you're such an idealist when it comes to love." Cece rolled onto her back and hugged a pillow to her chest, laughing. "You're the ultimate sap. And optimist. The ultimate sappy optimist."

Jess laughed. "What does that even mean, Cece?"

"That you still believe in all of this," Cece replied, waving a hand at the TV. "In the movie version of true love, even after all weird stuff that has happened to us since high school."

Jess shrugged and lied down next to Cece, thinking it over. "I can't help it. You don't believe in it?"

Cece shrugged and hugged her pillow tighter. "I dunno. I don't think it's all as simple as that."

"Meaning your relationship with Schmidt isn't as simple as that."

Cece rolled over to look at Jess, then she tossed her pillow at her friend. Jess laughed and threw it back.

"Yeah, I guess. Have any of your relationships been that simple? Especially when it's really, truly love?"

Jess fell silent, all of her earlier giggles long gone. Her heart squeezed tight and she closed her eyes. "No," she murmured, images of Nick flashing through her memory faster and faster. There were so many moments when it had been simple, so many times when she was just happy. But the end hadn't been simple, and neither had their friendship since then.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have…I'm sorry, Jess." Cece reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. "New topic…how cute is Skylar Astin? I mean, I know he's a little younger than us but I just want to pinch his cheeks. Face or ass."

Jessica laughed in spite of herself. "You're incorrigible."

"I don't know what that means but I'm sure you're right," Cece replied with a laugh. "Come on, let's watch Princess Bride."

(Meanwhile)

"Where's that melon stuff, Nick?" Schmidt was leaning over the bar, trying to spot that telltale bottle of melon liqueur that he loved so much. Nick frowned at him and shook his head.

"We're out."

Schmidt slid back onto his barstool and wagged his finger at his best friend. "I don't even know how you can say that with a straight face. You're lying."

"I'm serious, we're all out."

"When did you learn to lie so well, hm? Because normally by now you look like you've spent an afternoon playing in a broken fire hydrant."

Nick rolled his eyes and grabbed another beer for Winston. "It's because I'm not lying. We're out. Scout's honor."

"You were never a boy scout," Winston pointed out, and Nick threw his hands in the air.

"Shut up, Winston! Schmidt, how about a regular beer? Do you think you could manage to choke down a regular beer?"

But Schmidt had crossed his arms over his chest and was pouting. "I know you're lying to me, Nick, I just can't figure out why."

"For crying out loud…" Nick shook his head and moved away to help another customer. As soon as his back was turned, Schmidt climbed back over the counter and started rummaging around, looking for the hidden bottle of delicious spirits he was certain his friend had stashed somewhere.

"You've got a problem," Winston told him, leaning back a bit.

"I can't help it, it tastes like candy and you know I have a ferocious sweet tooth."

Winston just shook his head and took another long pull from his bottle. The bar was relatively quiet, probably because it was a weeknight. He should be studying for the police exam but every time he cracked open his books, he felt drowsy. He knew Coach was on the verge of strapping him to a bunch of weights and forcing him to focus, but for tonight he was free.

"Nick has a problem too." He looked down the bar at his friend, who was handing a couple of young guys a pitcher of beer. "I wasn't kidding about that intervention."

"Nick does have a problem, but I'd say it's more to do with his grandfatherly fashion sense than his lack of sex life. If he fixes one, the other will fix itself," Schmidt said, still searching for the melon liqueur.

"I'm not sure that's true," Winston started, but Schmidt interrupted with a triumphant a-HA! As he pulled out the bottle he'd been looking for.

"I knew he was lying!" He waved it in the air over his head. "Nick, you cretin, I found your dirty little stash!"

Nick looked over, shook his head at his friend in disapproval, and turned back to the group of guys that he'd been ringing up.

"He really is getting far too good at that. Where is all the sweat? All the stuttering and improbable explanations?"

Winston smacked Schmidt's arm. "Focus, Schmidt! What are we going to do about our friend spending the rest of his life alone?"

"That's an interesting question, Winston, and I think we should really discuss that after I've had about half of this sweet, sweet elixir."

"Okay but for real, we have got to address your thing with this melon stuff," Winston said, shaking his head.

Just then, a girl walked up to the bar. Schmidt immediately dropped the bottle to the bar top and took a nice long look. She was pretty and blonde, with nice blue eyes (although Jess had set the bar pretty damn high in that area). He straightened out his tie and shook his shoulders, loosening up for his opening line even as Winston moved to intercept him, but her attention was elsewhere.

"Nick!" she called, waving to him. Nick glanced over and gave her a quick smile, and Winston tilted his head in disbelief.

"He knows her?"

"Dammit, that's the barista from the other day. I knew I recognized her!" Schmidt tried to get around Winston again, but his friend kept him back.

"What barista, what's going on?"

Nick finished with the group of guys and made his way back in their direction, stopping in front of Samantha.

"I'm here to collect my first paycheck," she told him."

Nick laughed and braced himself against the bar top. "Fair enough, what'll it be?"

"Whiskey. An Irish one. And neat."

Nick nodded in reluctant admiration, pulled out a bottle of Tullamore Dew and poured her a couple of fingers.

"Let me know when you need another," he told her, then he slid over to Winston and Schmidt. "More beer or would you prefer something embarrassingly sugary?"

"Who's that?" Winston asked.

"You sly dog! I knew you'd break. I'm proud of you." Schmidt's smile was a mile long, but Nick was already shaking his head.

"It's not like that. Samantha's helping me out with my novel. I told her I'd pay her in drinks. That's it." He cut Schmidt off before he could comment. "Don't start, Schmidt."

"You should sleep with her," Winston said while the other two glared at each other over a bottle of melon liqueur.

"WHAT? Winston! I thought you'd back me up!" Nick had whirled to face him, genuine shock on his face. Winston shrugged.

"I'm serious, it could be good for you."

"I fully, 100% agree with our wisest friend. You should sleep with her."

"You guys are idiots," Nick said, shaking his head. "She's my editor, okay? The end. I'm not ready."

"Nick, come on…" Schmidt reached out to grab his friend's arm, but Nick was already moving away, heading toward a new group of people at the bar. "Nick!"

He slumped and then poured about a shot's worth of melon liqueur into his mouth. Winston patted his shoulder and then downed the last of his beer.

Notes: There was originally going to be more to this chapter but this felt like a natural place to end it. Any thoughts? I'd love to hear your ideas if you have a minute! Next up (for real this time) the loft-mates deal with Nick's expensive new coffee habit, and Nick realizes what he's really writing about. Also, Cece and Schmidt share a moment of mutual concern about their friends.