metal heart: Part 3/3 HIMYM: (Robin, Barney, ensemble)
Title: metal heart
Fandom:HIMYM
Characters: Robin, Barney, ensemble
Spoilers: through 4.14
Rating: There’s sex, so let’s say adult
summary: she’s never heard a love story like this one.
Part One Part Two
“Fifty bucks says you can’t hit the roof of the ball return hut.”
Barney snorts. “Please, my dead grandmother could make that shot. Done.”
Robin smirks, and Ted blows a stream of smoke up at her from where he’s sprawled in a plastic lawn chair. “You know, it’s not very nice to take advantage of a person with a gambling addiction.”
Barney chips the shot, curses.
She shrugs as she swings her club idly, sets another ball onto the tee. “Hey, I’m just trying to win back all the money I lost when he dragged me to the dog races. Thanks for ditching us last weekend, by the way.”
“For the hundredth time, I had to work.” Ted sighs heavily. “I feel like I haven’t seen you guys at all lately with this new project.”
Barney chuckles to himself as she winds back to drive. “I still can’t believe Robin thought dogs with shorter legs would be faster. Easiest three hundred dollars I’ve ever made.”
Robin’s ball arcs neatly through the air, hits the catch-net near the top. Ted lets out a low whistle around his cigar. Perfection. She turns to Barney, smiles challengingly as she leans onto her club. “Fifty bucks says you can’t beat that shot.”
“Oh, you’re so on,” Barney says, over Ted’s exasperated groan.
-
June comes, and then July. Robin keeps waiting to get bored, keeps waiting for Barney to get bored, but it never happens. They bro- out like always, serve wingman duty for Ted and sometimes even for each other when they’re in the mood. They totally murder the opposition in the all-Manhattan Lazer Tag tournament (organized, of course, by Barney himself). But sometimes when her guard’s down, she looks at him and feels… , well.
It happens again on a Tuesday evening; Barney shows up at the apartment after work to play video games, which somehow segues into fucking on the couch. Her breath catches a little when she notices the digital display on the clock-radio, arches as he tugs her hips into his faster and harder. “Ted’s gonna be home any minute.”
“So? Come faster, then.” His fingers slide down to help her along as he hums thoughtfully to himself. “What would you do if he caught us? Just walked in and found us like this.” She can’t help it, she moans a little at the thought and it makes Barney grin predatorily. “I wouldn’t stop. Can you imagine the look on his face?”
And god, she is, she’s totally imagining it and she’s so close and then he leans in, kisses just underneath her ear and murmurs “He’ll walk in any second now…” and then her stomach muscles spasm and she’s gone, rocking reflexively against him until she can breathe again.
Barney huffs out a gleeful chuckle into her hair. “Psych, he texted me an hour ago; he’s stuck at work until eight. That was classic. You’ve got such a fetish.”
She wishes she were motivated enough to hit him, but she feels way too boneless and wonderful right now to follow through. “You’re a jerk.” He shifts, still hard against her thigh, and Robin presses up on her knees to kiss him, to inch back down onto his cock. He sighs contentedly into her mouth, hands wander up her back again to pull her closer as she starts moving slowly on top of him.
She pulls back to drop kisses down his neck, frowns. “Did you get a spray tan?”
“Yeah,” he sighs into her shoulder dreamily. “It makes my pecs look awesome.”
She laughs. “I swear, you’re like thirty percent girl.”
“Well,” and he leans in to kiss her chin; her insides go all warm and funny at the brief pressure of his lips. “You’re like fifty percent lesbian, so it all works out in the end.”
It’s stupid, but she kisses him then and just for a second she can’t help thinking we work together, we fit so well. It’s a jagged, perfect feeling, but she’s never had that thought about anyone, not even about Ted, so she certainly can’t go around having it about Barney Stinson, the one person who’s even more allergic to commitment than she is.
Robin squeezes her eyes shut and pushes the moment away because that road leads only to heartbreak, shuts it down and concentrates instead on making him come even harder than she just did a minute ago.
She totally succeeds.
-
“Is everything okay with you?” Lily asks over their shopping excursion coffee-break latte.
Robin frowns a little. “Sure, why?”
Lily’s nose screws up. “I’m not trying to pry, but you seem like you’re kinda having a dry spell. You haven’t been dating much.”
Robin feels her shoulders tense up, ligaments winding tight into bone. “I’m busy with this job, you know? And I’ve gone out with some guys. I went out with that rock-climbing guy last week. Mike.”
“No, I know. It’s just, and I mean this in a totally positive non-judgmental way, it seems like a lower volume of guys than normal and you really haven’t talked much about any of them.” Lily’s face drops. “Oh god, you’re not hung up on Ted again, are you? I was worried about the whole ‘roommates’ thing.”
“What? No! Absolutely not.” She waves a hand, but Lily raises a skeptical eyebrow. “I swear. Not hung up on Ted. I’m just busy.”
“Do you want me to ask around at school? I could probably find teachers with hot single friends.”
Something twinges in her chest. Robin almost tells her then, almost blurts it out right there in The Coffee Pot’s squishy red armchairs because it’s Lily and because this whole thing is starting to get too big and confusing to keep all in her own head. Her lips part and her brain starts the sentence: ‘I’m sleeping with Barney and I can’t seem to stop,’ but the thought of the look on Lily’s face stops her.
If she tells Lily, it’s all going to be real.
Very uncomfortably real, and she’s going to have to deal with it.
“I’m fine,” she says instead. Lily lets it go because she’s a good friend, just shrugs and gathers up her coat and starts telling her about her newest cold war with Marshall’s mother, and Robin thinks she probably shouldn’t feel this intensely relieved to drop the subject.
-
It starts to get weird.
Her phone rings as she finishes up at work; she’s exhausted and mostly just wants to go home and curl up in bed, but Barney sounds so tense and un-Barneyish that she meets him at his apartment anyway. Afterwards they lie in bed; his fingers stroke her hair and she’s trying to force her eyes to stay open when he blurts “I’m getting cross-examined this afternoon.” His teeth click audibly as his mouth snaps shut.
She blinks. “Like, in a trial? For what?”
Robin feels his Adam’s apple bob against her shoulder as he swallows. “Grand jury proceedings are confidential.”
She tries to process that, decides she really doesn’t want to know anyway. His leg is jiggling restlessly; one hand clenches and unclenches in the sheets. “Are you nervous?”
He snorts unconvincingly, doesn’t meet her eyes. “No. I kick ass at testifying.”
She frowns a little because Barney and feelings is alien, uncharted territory for them. “I’m sure you’ll be great.” From her vantage point she can see the top of his lip twitch a little; so she runs what she hopes is a reassuring hand along his back. “You’re like the best liar I know.”
That makes him laugh a little, and he presses up on his elbow to kiss her. His finger curl along her ear and god, there’s something here, like he’s pouring everything into her. This is a serious kiss. When he pulls back, she has to suck in a breath because that felt a little like drowning. He rolls away, pushes off the bed.
“Okay,” he says, like he’s steeling himself. “Okay.”
She starts to get up too; she really hopes she doesn’t pass out in the cab on the way home because that’s always pretty mortifying. But Barney puts a hand on her shoulder, stops her.
“Hey, you can stay and sleep if you want. It’s my fault you’re on this side of town in the first place.”
“Okay,” she says because that’s all she’s got, and he smiles at her and heads into the bathroom. She closes her eyes, tries to make it look like she’s asleep as he finishes getting dressed and bangs out of the apartment.
Her eyes snap open as the door slams shut because what. the. hell. Robin is 99% sure that she and Barney just had comfort sex, and now he’s inviting her to stay in the Fortress of Barnitude while he’s not even home? She’s positive that the only other girl who’s ever been allowed in this apartment unsupervised is Lily.
Robin stares at the scalloped ceiling, wills her heart to stop hammering in her chest. This is crazy. He’s just being considerate, that’s all. He’s being a good friend. There’s nothing weird about that, and she should chill out and take advantage of his hospitality and go to sleep like her body’s dying to do. She definitely shouldn’t be feeling like she’s about to hurl.
She takes a breath, closes her eyes.
Ten minutes later she’s hailing a cab.
-
She goes on a date with Rock-Climber Mike on Friday instead of going to hang at the bar, and she spends all of dinner trying to convince herself that she called him because she enjoys his company and because he has a nice ass, not because Barney royally freaked her out the other day.
And it’s definitely not because a part of her really likes the idea of getting issued a permanent pass to Barney’s apartment. No, she’ll stick with the sex visa; safer for everyone that way.
Besides, Barney would never go for it. At least, that’s what she thought; now, well, she’s not so sure.
After dessert and drinks she decides to bring Mike to MacLaren’s, just to prove she can, and the first thing she sees when she walks in the door is Barney sucking face with a blonde chick by the jukebox.
“Ah,” she stutters awkwardly, and Mike frowns. She should feel relieved; after all, she’s spent most of the week silently freaking out over Barney getting too attached to her. But instead of dissolving, the anxiety floods into nerves, pools sick and heavy in the pit of her stomach, and she has no fucking idea why.
Lily waves them over to the booth; she tries to shake it off. It’s fine, it’s totally, totally fine. Totally fine, until she goes up to the bar to grab everyone another round and a familiar Armani-clad elbow slides into her line of vision.
“Come home with me tonight,” he says, leaning into her space.
Robin quirks an eyebrow, taps her fingernails against the polished wood as Carl makes Lily’s gin and tonic. “I’m on a date.”
“So?”
“So, what’s wrong with that girl? You looked like you were about to close the deal. It’s like a bimbo buffet in here.”
He rubs his neck, shrugs. “There’s nothing wrong with her. But shouldn’t you trade up if you have the option?” He shoots a glance at Mike. “And for you it would definitely be trading up; that dude is like, barely a seven.” Barney hops onto the stool next to her, steals the beer meant for Marshall. “Simple economics, my friend. Wait, no, sexonomics.” He squints. “Get-your-Freak-onomics, hey-o!”
“I’m not even going to pretend to understand what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on. Look at that girl; it’s going to take me at least two more hours of effort to get her into bed. And even if I do get her clothes off, what do you think the probability is of her letting me do that thing that we did last Saturday?”
Robin glances over, carefully considers the flat gold sandals and the barrette. “Twenty percent.”
Barney grins at her, and her traitorous stomach flips a little. “Exactly. Two hours and twenty percent. But with you it’s like… fifteen minutes and seventy percent. Plus you’re five times hotter than her.”
Her cheeks flush a little just thinking about it. “Yeah, more like eighty-five percent.”
“Yes.” Barney claps a little, almost knocks over the stolen beer. “Now we’re talking!”
And because she’s clearly mentally ill, at the end of the night she kisses Mike goodbye and sends him on his way. She should probably be disgusted with herself, but then Barney kisses her as soon as she slides into the cab, fingers warm on her cheek, and she totally, totally isn’t.
-
Things are easier after that, mostly because she stops trying to figure out why they’re doing what they’re doing. ‘Simple economics,’ she tells herself; sleeping with Barney is eminently practical. Whatever, it’s as good a reason as any.
And if she catches herself drifting, daydreaming about his lips and his smell and his stupid laugh, well, it’s not a big deal. It’s only natural that all the sex stuff eventually starts seeping into the rest of her life.
“Mmm, wanna go down to the bar later?” She winds arms tighter around his neck, smiles as his tongue traces an electric, sparking trail along her collarbone.
“Eh, I’m right where I want to be.” He snorts into her shoulder, cracks himself up a little. “In your vagina, what up?”
She smacks the back of his head, but that doesn’t stop the smile curling at her lip. “You know what I really want to do tonight?”
“Besides me?”
She ignores him. “I think we should put baking powder in Ted’s hair gel. So it looks like he has dandruff.”
Barney stills against her. “Yes,” he blurts fervently. “God, I-“ but then his voice dries up and he looks away. Digs his fingers into her hips and urges her up again.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he mutters. “It’s nothing.”
-
Just before Halloween, Barney gets sent to North Korea on business for a month.
“I didn’t even know U.S. citizens were allowed to go to North Korea.”
“Ted, please,” Barney says. “And Pyongyang is beautiful this time of year.”
“Well, we’ll miss you, I guess,” Lily offers. Marshall raises a glass to that, and Barney seems genuinely touched.
Robin’s the only one of them with a car, so she volunteers to drop him off at the airport. When they roll to a stop in front of the terminal she hesitates, fingers digging into the vinyl steering wheel cover. She feels like she should say something to him, but she doesn’t have any idea what it should be.
“Have a good flight,” she finally says lamely.
“Yeah.” He fidgets with his passport, blows out a breath. “Okay Scherbatsky, catch you on the flipside,” and then he’s out the door, circling the car to grab his bag. She watches him go, jams down on the power window button just as the automatic glass doors swish open.
“Barney!” When he turns back, she grins. “Distance high five!” She slaps the air, and he smiles. Then winks, waves cheerily, and disappears into the departure lobby.
Robin bites her lip, smiles to herself as she eases the car away from the curb.
-
Three days later Robin’s at her desk pulling stories for tomorrow from the wire reports when she reads something that makes her spit nonfat hazelnut latte all over her keyboard. Before she even registers what she’s doing, her phone’s out of her pocket and her finger’s jammed on the speed dial.
The line rings, rings, and then “Hold the dirty stuff, Scherbatsky. Dear Leader is monitoring my phone calls.”
“There wasn’t going to be any dirty stuff.”
Barney hums sadly. “Too bad. So then why are you calling me in the middle of the night?”
Time difference, whoops. “I just think it’s awfully suspicious that you jet off to Pyongyang, and three days later North Korea is testing its shiny new long-range ballistic missiles.”
“Uh, when is North Korea not doing a missile test?”
“Admit it.”
“Is this what passes for investigative journalism these days?”
“I’m just saying: if you’re involved in the arms trade, why the hell am I still buying guns at retail price? A good friend would at least get me the wholesale discount.”
His laughter sends a little frisson of something down her back. “Goodnight, Robin,” he says, voice warm, and she can still hear him chuckling when the line clicks off.
-
“I’m ninety percent sure Barney’s helping sell missiles to North Korea right now,” Robin tells them casually over her scotch that night.
“Oh god,” and Marshall claps his hands over his ears. “Please don’t say things like that in front of me. I don’t want to know anything.”
“Denial is the only way he’s dealing with it,” Lily explains, lays a comforting hand on Marshall’s shoulder. “He overheard something about voter fraud in Colombia when he went to ‘conference call’ Barney out of a meeting last week. This job is freaking him out.”
“I certainly wouldn’t be surprised.” Ted stretches yawns a little. “I try not to think too much about things Barney doesn’t tell us because every time I start to, I get terrifi-“ but his voice cuts out with another gigantic yawn. “Time for me to turn in; I’ve got a meeting at seven tomorrow.”
Lily grabs her purse. “Yeah, us too.”
Robin blinks. “You guys are going already?”
She gets an apologetic look from Lily, but she keeps on bundling Marshall out. “Have a good night; hope the show goes well.”
And Robin finds herself at the bar at ten p.m. with no one to keep her company but her scotch, and with five hours to kill before work. “Well, crap.”
-
Honestly, Robin hadn’t realized how much she’s started to rely on Barney for entertainment. She keeps finding herself alone in the apartment after Marshall and Lily leave the bar, watching infomercials until she has to go to work. Hell, even the gym closes by eleven.
She tries hanging out at the cigar bar alone, but she’s bored of it after an hour. The pick-up lines aren’t even funny; most of the guys there tend to open with an off-hand comment about their Porsche. She goes on a few dates, has some passable, if boring, sex with a guy her friend from work sets her up with. On the weekend, Ted refuses to go with her to the shooting range; she finds out that getting five consecutive bulls-eyes is way less awesome when you don’t have someone to gloat to about it. It’ gets so bad that she starts thinking about calling the Woo girls again.
Sometimes her fingers will start inching towards her phone while the ShamWow dude drones on in the background but… something always freezes them before she dials. It’s not like she and Barney routinely talk on the phone; why on earth would they start now?
On a rainy Friday in mid-November, Robin turns thirty. Lily bakes her this amazing tiramisu cake that mostly tastes like brandy (A+ for that) and she, Marshall and Ted take her out to this great Indian place where they all proceed to get hammered on mid-dollar champagne.
“Thirty is great,” Ted tells her seriously after his fourth glass. “Thirty treated me with the love and respect I deserve.”
“Presents!” Lily squeals. “Marshall and I got you an espresso maker.”
Marshall pats her arm. “Way to ruin the surprise, baby.”
She does indeed receive an espresso maker, and a monogrammed set of bath towels from Ted.
“To replace the ones the goat ate. And so you stop stealing mine,” he explains. “Plus, I know how much you love shit with your name on it.”
“Thanks, guys. This is too much, seriously.”Another box materializes in front of her, and she frowns at Ted. “What’s this?”
He shrugs. “Barney. And I’m under strict instructions to make you call him as soon as you open it.”
She slides fingers under the expensive-looking wrapping paper, lifts the top off the box and- oh holy shit. Holy fucking mother of god.
“What is it?” Lily rises up out of her chair a little to peer over the rim, and goes deathly pale. “Oh my god, there’s a gun in this restaurant.”
Marshall and Ted both recoil a little, but Robin’s still staring down because this isn’t just a gun, this is a special edition Colt M1911. She’s pretty sure they only manufacture fifty of these a year.
“Is that gold plating?” Marshall squints down closer into the box, but Lily draws him back again. “Seriously, they put gold plating on guns?”
She can’t answer because there’s nothing but static happening in her brain right now, just white noise and whatthehellwhatthehellwhatthehell. She whips out her phone.
“What the hell, Barney?” she says when he picks up, and it comes out angrier than she meant it to.
“Why, good morning to you too. You got your present, I assume,” and she can hear his shit-eating grin over an ocean and two continents.
“You know I can’t keep this. It must’ve cost you a fortune, Barney, what the hell were you thinking?”
“Well that’s too bad, since I went to the trouble of getting you licensed to carry it concealed, too.” When she doesn’t answer, his voice softens. “Robin, don’t freak out. I got it wholesale, get it? I know a guy.”
“You’re crazy,” she finally manages, because her throat’s closing up because she’s starting to grasp it and wow, that’s even scarier than the idea that he would’ve dropped a cool ten thousand for a birthday present.
“Crazy awesome, maybe. Happy 29th,” he grins warmly, and that makes her laugh through the lump.
“I’m thirty.”
“If that’s the way you wanna play it,” and he sounds so tinny and thin and far away and god, all in a rush she just wishes he were here. “Look, I’ve gotta go to a meeting. I’ll see you guys in a week or two when I get finished, okay?”
“Bye,” she says before the connection terminates, and she’s left staring at the phone like an idiot. She looks into the box again and the tide rises up, pulls her in because this isn’t a present, it’s a secret. It’s a piece of Barney that he’s never shared before, and it’s for her.
This shouldn’t feel so important.
Before she can stop she’s pressing her hand over her mouth, trying desperately to hold it back, but the tears start anyway. God, crying in a restaurant. This is probably the most mortifying moment of her life.
Ted leans over quickly, wraps arms around her and pulls her into his shoulder. “Hey,” he murmurs into her hair, rubs her back. “I know. It’s okay,” but that just makes her hiccup a sob into his ugly striped sweater.
“I just,” and thankfully the wool muffles her voice so the whole restaurant isn’t privy to her meltdown. “I miss him.”
Ted keeps rocking her, and finally Robin manages to get herself under control enough to glance up. Lily and Marshall are staring at her, confusion all over their faces.
“Okay, did I miss something?”
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Ted says, exasperated. “They’ve been sleeping together for months.”
-
“You and Barney,” Lily says over coffee once they make it back to the apartment. “Wow. This is huge.”
“We’re not- it’s not serious.”
She frowns over her mug, and Marshall raises an eyebrow. “You’re crying in public and it’s not serious?”
“You guys cried when I left for Japan. Friends miss each other; that’s totally normal.” They share a look, and that prickles. She’s not stupid; she knows her feelings for Barney at this point aren’t exactly platonic, but she also knows that they’re pretty hopeless so she’s trying not to think about it. “It’s really nothing. It’s sex.”
They let it go, and the tide of conversation turns back to Lily’s class. Lily and Marshall head home after cake, and Robin’s left sitting quietly with Ted as he sips his coffee. This isn’t how she wanted this to go.
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you,” she says once she gathers enough nerve. “We should have. It just- it felt too private, you know? And I think Barney was scared you’d be mad.”
Ted shrugs, takes another sip. “It was a little weird, I’ll admit. And about what happened the first time: I wasn’t mad that you guys slept together. I was mad because I thought it was about me.”
“What?”
“I mean, I thought it was about Barney sleeping with my ex-girlfriend. You know how competitive he is.” He looks down into his coffee contemplatively. “But now I get that it wasn’t about me at all. It was about you.”
She sighs a little, because she could’ve told him that in the first place if he’d just thought to ask. “Yeah. How’d you figure out we were sleeping together again?”
“Oh come on, you guys aren’t stealthy. You disappear for entire weekends, yet never produce a boyfriend? And let’s not talk about all the times that I passed Barney on his way out of the building and got up here to find you in the shower.”
“Right.” She presses the heels of her hands into her eyes as hard as she can. “I really am sorry. I should’ve talked to you about it.”
“Robin,” he says gently, “really, I’m not upset. If anything, it’s been good. Seeing how happy you guys are like this, separate apartments, separate lives, well. There was a part of me that was still holding on to you, that kept saying she’s young, maybe someday she’ll change her mind. Part of me thought we still had a chance, and I get now that I was holding back because of it. But you’ve been happier lately than you ever were when we were together, and I could never be happy living like this. And you’re never going to change your mind.”
She’s tearing up again. “There was a part of me that thought that too, you know. It was nice to think you’d be there.”
Ted smiles unsteadily at her; his eyes are wet. “Past tense.”
“Past tense,” she affirms and something in her chest clenches up and oh god, she’s really in love with Barney Stinson. “So what do I do?”
“No idea.” He takes her hand. “Just don’t chicken out, okay? Barney whines like a little bitch whenever you’re not around to go bro-ing with him. When you went to visit your mom over the summer, he was such a nightmare that Lily had to ban him from the booth.”
-
The holidays creep up the way they always do; twinkly lights that appear out of nowhere, surly-looking elves invading department stores. The food is delicious as always, but their Barney-less Thanksgiving just feels sort of wrong. They all crowd around the phone to call him as they eat their pie, but it rings once and goes straight through to voicemail.
She almost calls him the next day, and then the next, and then the day after that, but she just doesn’t have the words.
Robin’s mid-sip when Marshall lets out a girly squeal from across the booth. She looks up from her wine glass and Barney’s standing casually over the table, immaculate as always. “Sup, guys?”
She doesn’t quite know how it happens but suddenly they’re all caught in a five-way hug, and she and Ted are most definitely not jumping up and down like five-year olds.
“You’re back,” Lily enthuses to him, pulls back a little to stare at Robin expectantly. “We missed you.”
Barney snorts. “Well, who wouldn’t? That’s a given, Lily.”
Robin opens her mouth, snaps it shut. “Who wants drinks?”
He follows her to the bar, slides in to lean next to her. “Hey,” and when she looks up he’s smiling.
“They know,” she blurts guiltily. “About us.”
“Oh, thank god,” and then his hands are on her shoulders as he steers her toward the door.
She trips a little when they hit the pavement outside. “Barney, the hell?
He cocks his head, takes a step back. “Wait, you don’t want to go upstairs for a quickie?”
Ah. “Actually, that sounds great.”
He nods into the leer. “Yes! Daddy’s home!”
Oh, gross. “Nope, I changed my mind.” He probably doesn’t believe her though, considering that right after she says it she fists her hands in his lapels and kisses him so hard they both almost fall down the stairs.
Robin really hopes they make it back to the apartment.
-
She means to say something the next morning, but they slide so seamlessly back to where they were before he left that she doesn’t even know how to start. Plus, it’s a thousand times more fun to spend the morning cracking communism jokes instead.
“Stop, hammer time!” she sings cheerfully when she steps into the shower. Barney laughs, then slides soapy hands down her ass and obliges.
It almost comes out at the cigar bar; she can’t stop noticing how good he looks in this suit and he’s standing so close to her at the bar she can feel his breath on her cheek, but then he waves his cigar at a beefy guy across the room.
“How about him? Totally your type.”
“Right,” she says, and oh, who is she kidding? Barney doesn’t do love stuff. If she says anything it’s just going to freak him out and she’d rather have him in her life like this than not have him in her life at all.
Whatever, she hates relationships anyway.
-
“Bawk,” Ted clucks under his breath as he pours her more eggnog in the kitchen after Christmas dinner.
“Shut up.”
“You’re a chicken,” he calls after her.
-
Two days before New Year’s, Robin does an interview with Steve “the Slammer” Michealson, star forward for the Vancouver Canucks. She barely gets through the segment without giggling because wow, he’s really tall. She doesn’t usually get starstruck, but oh man, she’s already spotted two scars and she’s pretty sure he’s missing a tooth.
“Thanks,” he says as the sound techs fuss around with their microphones. “That was a really great interview.”
“Because you were great,” and she’s blushing, and wow, when did it get so hot in here?
He leans in. “Hey, I’m here for a few more days and I don’t know a lot of people in New York. How would you like to have dinner on Friday?”
“I’d love to,” she blurts.
-
“On New Year’s,” Barney says flatly. “You’re ditching us for a hockey player on New Year’s.”
“I’m not ditching you; I said we’ll come back to the bar after.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Robin squints at him, tries not to notice how Lily and Ted and Marshall are all shrinking down in their seats, trying to look inconspicuous. “What’s your problem?”
Barney laughs, but there’s none of his usual mirth in it. “Nothing. I am totally awesome. Have a legendary time.” He picks up his scotch and slides out of the booth. “Excuse me.”
The awkward silence at the table is stifling.
It bursts out. “We’re not together!” Marshall frowns; she waves a hand to emphasize. “I mean, he banged that Asian chick in the bathroom three nights ago!”
“Robin,” Lily starts, very carefully. “He’s scared, too.”
-
sudden stop
-
She spends Friday feeling alternately pissed and nauseous. Steve picks her up at the apartment and they go to this fantastic steakhouse and he looks really, really hot, but all she can think about is how much Barney would love this place. It’s totally his style, lots of black leather sofas and polished mahogany trim. Plus all the waitresses are showing significant amounts of boob, and oh, what the hell is wrong with her?
After a jacketed busboy whisks away the remains of her steak, Steve raises his glass. “To new beginnings.”
She smiles half-heartedly, clinks his glass, and then excuses herself to the restroom before her mascara starts to run. She twists the tap, splashes some water on her face. Checks her watch; it’s just after eleven.
Robin stares at herself in the mirror. She can go out there and smile and have what will probably be really great sex with a guy that she’s never going to have to see again, or she can man up and spend New Year’s with the people who really matter to her.
She grabs her purse, winds her way out to the table.
“Steve, I have to go.”
-
Fifty bucks gets Robin to MacLaren’s in ten minutes. She bursts in, scans the crowd, and her heart sinks. They’re not here. “Carl,” she says, a little desperately. “Carl, have you seen Barney?”
He looks up, frowns. “Sure, he left with a couple of girls about an hour ago. Are you okay? You need something?”
All of her nervous, giddy energy fizzes out, and she sinks down onto a bar stool. “No. It’s fine.” She dials Lily, then Ted, but the network is busy and none of the calls go through. Great, alone on New Year’s, and the person she wants to see more than anything in the world is probably fucking some other woman because he thinks she doesn’t care about him.
Carl slides her a scotch. “On the house, okay?”
Her answering smile is a little watery, and she sighs, loses herself in the warm buzz when she takes a sip.
-
Worst night ever, she thinks as Ryan Seacrest shouts into his microphone and the bachelorette party in the corner decides that the bar really needs to hear their drunken cover of Whitesnake. She swirls her scotch. New Year’s Eve can die in a fucking fire.
Carl clears his throat and when she glances up he’s smiling at her. Then someone’s breath brushes her neck; there’s a familiar voice in her ear.
“A hundred dollars says when you turn around-“
The rest of it gets lost in her lips; she clutches at the back of his neck and he leans into her, arms wrapping around her waist as he presses her into the edge of the bar. Her heart’s hammering in her chest and his hands are everywhere: in her hair, brushing her cheek, sliding along her ass. He’s here, he’s really here. He came back. She feels a little lightheaded; it must be the scotch.
The bar counts down around them, explodes into sound and cheers and hugging. Barney finally pulls back enough to look at her. “Happy New Year,” he says, and his smile is so bright her eyes hurt.
She smoothes a hand down his tie, straightens the knot. “You didn’t say wow. Pretty sure you owe me a hundred bucks.”
He winks, leans in again. “I’m more than willing to work off the debt.”
-
Unsurprisingly, they end up in the alley with his belt undone.
“Wait,” Barney wheezes a little. “I have to say something to give this the emotional weight it deserves.” She raises an eyebrow, and he grins. “There are two chicks making out on my couch right now.”
“So? I could’ve nailed a professional hockey player.”
“Robin,” and he gives her a suffering look. “Chicks making out.”
“Okay, fine. You win.”
He grins, goes back to slicking kisses along her neck. “We’re gonna be so awesome. Like, the idea alone is blowing my mind. I knew you’d be here; how crazy is that? I just knew it. Crazy awesome, that’s how crazy it is.”
She bites her lip. “Barney-“
“That was like, the best New Year’s kiss ever, right?”
“Oh, it definitely was.”
“Hah!” and when he pulls back to shoot a victorious grin at her, she feels her heart skip a terrifying, dizzy beat. “Marshall and Lily can totally suck it!”
The look in his eyes is making her chest hurt; she looks away because this is all moving too fast, and god she has to say it so everything’s on the table. She doesn’t think she could take it if she lets herself fall and then they crash and burn because she can’t give him what he wants. She couldn’t take losing him that way. She needs to say it.
“I don’t want to get married,” she blurts into the crisp fold of his lapel. “I don’t ever want that kind of commitment, and I don’t ever want kids.”
His hand smoothes along her back. “And you seriously think that would be a deal breaker? Wow, it’s like you don’t know me at all.”
She breathes him in, cigars and expensive cologne. “And I don’t want to be stuck in New York. I want to travel. I want to live in Greece. And Thailand. I want to be able to go where my life takes me.”
Robin can feel the rise and fall his shoulders as he shrugs. “My company owns two airlines. I fly for free.”
A lump tickles in her throat and she tries to laugh it out, but it bubbles up more like a sob. “Barney, I can’t-“
“Robin,” he interrupts shakily, and the un-Barneyish rawness of it twists in her chest, snags and grinds everything to a halt. “Robin, I’m not trying to tie you down. Neither of us wants that. But I’m tired of pretending that you’re not the most important person in my life.”
“Wow,” and she leans into him, letting the words linger a moment. Sniffles a little, dammit. “That was like, your best line ever.”
His inarticulate sound of frustration tickles against her scalp. “I’m trying to bare my soul here.”
“Yeah.” She breathes in deep, tips her head up to look him in the eyes. Counts to three, exhales it all. “I adore you, you know. Totally gone.”
A familiar smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. “Really?” and when she nods his face splits into a grin. She can feel her expression mirroring his own and wow, she doesn’t think she’s ever felt so stupid and giddy before. “Well then,” and he steps back, dusts his hands off triumphantly, “feelings talk accomplished. Let us never speak of it again.”
“You know, I hear ‘I love you’ sex is pretty mind-blowing.”
He grabs her hand, starts pulling her out of the alley towards the front stairs as the sounds of New York celebrating rise up all around them. “All right, Scherbatsky, now you’re speaking my language! This year is gonna be legen -wait for it-”
She laughs.
-
If Robin learned anything from Ted, it’s that loving someone is never a guarantee. Loving someone doesn’t mean everything’s gonna work out. But when she thinks about them, about cigar smoke and skin and never having to pretend to want something that you don’t, well, she feels pretty optimistic.
Then one night at dinner she tries to steal some of the hot fudge off the top of his sundae but Barney blocks her spoon with his own, a fencer’s parry, and stares her down. “Excuse you. Do I look like the ice cream fairy or something?”
Lily’s gaping at him, horror written all over her face because Barney’s just violated one of the most sacred laws of coupledom, but he doesn’t even notice because he’s too busy killing her with his eyes.
“Order your own, geeze,” he says peevishly.
And right then, Robin just knows.
-
Once upon a time, Robin Scherbatsky met a guy. She didn’t fall in love with him, but then later she did, and he ended up being the best friend she’s ever had. And somewhere in between all that she met his best friend, and his best friend’s wife, and his other really good friend who became her best friend who she had lots and lots of sex with until she realized that the thought of life without him kind of made her want to vomit.
And that’s when things really started getting interesting.
-
It’s another Friday night at MacLaren’s, comfortably familiar. Familiar booth, same old scotch and soda, same welcome weight of Barney’s arm slung carelessly over the back of the bench.
Ted’s introducing them all to his date, a sunshiny girl named Erin. Robin likes her immediately, likes how genuinely she smiles as Marshall and Lily tell the story of how they met. The ‘awww’ comes from the heart. And she liked the way Ted grinned as he told them how he and Erin met, something about a shouting match in the rain over his umbrella. Barney rolled his eyes but Ted’s got that look, that ‘let’s fall in love and get married and have babies’ look that terrified her so deeply, but Erin doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, Erin’s got a little of that look herself.
Robin can see their love story blooming already, can see Ted and Erin holding hands and smiling at each other as they tell the umbrella story to a thousand different people over the next forty years, choreographing and tweaking it to perfection just the way Marshall and Lily have.
And then she realizes that the thought doesn’t bother her at all.
“So,” Erin turns to her and smiles her sweet, infectious smile. “How did you and Barney meet?”
She smirks at him. Because really, how the hell do you even begin to answer that? Barney just laughs, his knee bumping hers under the table.
“Please,” he says.
-
and then they awesomed and lazer-tagged forever and Barney always had the skin and libido of a much younger man, THE END
Fandom:HIMYM
Characters: Robin, Barney, ensemble
Spoilers: through 4.14
Rating: There’s sex, so let’s say adult
summary: she’s never heard a love story like this one.
Part One Part Two
“Fifty bucks says you can’t hit the roof of the ball return hut.”
Barney snorts. “Please, my dead grandmother could make that shot. Done.”
Robin smirks, and Ted blows a stream of smoke up at her from where he’s sprawled in a plastic lawn chair. “You know, it’s not very nice to take advantage of a person with a gambling addiction.”
Barney chips the shot, curses.
She shrugs as she swings her club idly, sets another ball onto the tee. “Hey, I’m just trying to win back all the money I lost when he dragged me to the dog races. Thanks for ditching us last weekend, by the way.”
“For the hundredth time, I had to work.” Ted sighs heavily. “I feel like I haven’t seen you guys at all lately with this new project.”
Barney chuckles to himself as she winds back to drive. “I still can’t believe Robin thought dogs with shorter legs would be faster. Easiest three hundred dollars I’ve ever made.”
Robin’s ball arcs neatly through the air, hits the catch-net near the top. Ted lets out a low whistle around his cigar. Perfection. She turns to Barney, smiles challengingly as she leans onto her club. “Fifty bucks says you can’t beat that shot.”
“Oh, you’re so on,” Barney says, over Ted’s exasperated groan.
-
June comes, and then July. Robin keeps waiting to get bored, keeps waiting for Barney to get bored, but it never happens. They bro- out like always, serve wingman duty for Ted and sometimes even for each other when they’re in the mood. They totally murder the opposition in the all-Manhattan Lazer Tag tournament (organized, of course, by Barney himself). But sometimes when her guard’s down, she looks at him and feels… , well.
It happens again on a Tuesday evening; Barney shows up at the apartment after work to play video games, which somehow segues into fucking on the couch. Her breath catches a little when she notices the digital display on the clock-radio, arches as he tugs her hips into his faster and harder. “Ted’s gonna be home any minute.”
“So? Come faster, then.” His fingers slide down to help her along as he hums thoughtfully to himself. “What would you do if he caught us? Just walked in and found us like this.” She can’t help it, she moans a little at the thought and it makes Barney grin predatorily. “I wouldn’t stop. Can you imagine the look on his face?”
And god, she is, she’s totally imagining it and she’s so close and then he leans in, kisses just underneath her ear and murmurs “He’ll walk in any second now…” and then her stomach muscles spasm and she’s gone, rocking reflexively against him until she can breathe again.
Barney huffs out a gleeful chuckle into her hair. “Psych, he texted me an hour ago; he’s stuck at work until eight. That was classic. You’ve got such a fetish.”
She wishes she were motivated enough to hit him, but she feels way too boneless and wonderful right now to follow through. “You’re a jerk.” He shifts, still hard against her thigh, and Robin presses up on her knees to kiss him, to inch back down onto his cock. He sighs contentedly into her mouth, hands wander up her back again to pull her closer as she starts moving slowly on top of him.
She pulls back to drop kisses down his neck, frowns. “Did you get a spray tan?”
“Yeah,” he sighs into her shoulder dreamily. “It makes my pecs look awesome.”
She laughs. “I swear, you’re like thirty percent girl.”
“Well,” and he leans in to kiss her chin; her insides go all warm and funny at the brief pressure of his lips. “You’re like fifty percent lesbian, so it all works out in the end.”
It’s stupid, but she kisses him then and just for a second she can’t help thinking we work together, we fit so well. It’s a jagged, perfect feeling, but she’s never had that thought about anyone, not even about Ted, so she certainly can’t go around having it about Barney Stinson, the one person who’s even more allergic to commitment than she is.
Robin squeezes her eyes shut and pushes the moment away because that road leads only to heartbreak, shuts it down and concentrates instead on making him come even harder than she just did a minute ago.
She totally succeeds.
-
“Is everything okay with you?” Lily asks over their shopping excursion coffee-break latte.
Robin frowns a little. “Sure, why?”
Lily’s nose screws up. “I’m not trying to pry, but you seem like you’re kinda having a dry spell. You haven’t been dating much.”
Robin feels her shoulders tense up, ligaments winding tight into bone. “I’m busy with this job, you know? And I’ve gone out with some guys. I went out with that rock-climbing guy last week. Mike.”
“No, I know. It’s just, and I mean this in a totally positive non-judgmental way, it seems like a lower volume of guys than normal and you really haven’t talked much about any of them.” Lily’s face drops. “Oh god, you’re not hung up on Ted again, are you? I was worried about the whole ‘roommates’ thing.”
“What? No! Absolutely not.” She waves a hand, but Lily raises a skeptical eyebrow. “I swear. Not hung up on Ted. I’m just busy.”
“Do you want me to ask around at school? I could probably find teachers with hot single friends.”
Something twinges in her chest. Robin almost tells her then, almost blurts it out right there in The Coffee Pot’s squishy red armchairs because it’s Lily and because this whole thing is starting to get too big and confusing to keep all in her own head. Her lips part and her brain starts the sentence: ‘I’m sleeping with Barney and I can’t seem to stop,’ but the thought of the look on Lily’s face stops her.
If she tells Lily, it’s all going to be real.
Very uncomfortably real, and she’s going to have to deal with it.
“I’m fine,” she says instead. Lily lets it go because she’s a good friend, just shrugs and gathers up her coat and starts telling her about her newest cold war with Marshall’s mother, and Robin thinks she probably shouldn’t feel this intensely relieved to drop the subject.
-
It starts to get weird.
Her phone rings as she finishes up at work; she’s exhausted and mostly just wants to go home and curl up in bed, but Barney sounds so tense and un-Barneyish that she meets him at his apartment anyway. Afterwards they lie in bed; his fingers stroke her hair and she’s trying to force her eyes to stay open when he blurts “I’m getting cross-examined this afternoon.” His teeth click audibly as his mouth snaps shut.
She blinks. “Like, in a trial? For what?”
Robin feels his Adam’s apple bob against her shoulder as he swallows. “Grand jury proceedings are confidential.”
She tries to process that, decides she really doesn’t want to know anyway. His leg is jiggling restlessly; one hand clenches and unclenches in the sheets. “Are you nervous?”
He snorts unconvincingly, doesn’t meet her eyes. “No. I kick ass at testifying.”
She frowns a little because Barney and feelings is alien, uncharted territory for them. “I’m sure you’ll be great.” From her vantage point she can see the top of his lip twitch a little; so she runs what she hopes is a reassuring hand along his back. “You’re like the best liar I know.”
That makes him laugh a little, and he presses up on his elbow to kiss her. His finger curl along her ear and god, there’s something here, like he’s pouring everything into her. This is a serious kiss. When he pulls back, she has to suck in a breath because that felt a little like drowning. He rolls away, pushes off the bed.
“Okay,” he says, like he’s steeling himself. “Okay.”
She starts to get up too; she really hopes she doesn’t pass out in the cab on the way home because that’s always pretty mortifying. But Barney puts a hand on her shoulder, stops her.
“Hey, you can stay and sleep if you want. It’s my fault you’re on this side of town in the first place.”
“Okay,” she says because that’s all she’s got, and he smiles at her and heads into the bathroom. She closes her eyes, tries to make it look like she’s asleep as he finishes getting dressed and bangs out of the apartment.
Her eyes snap open as the door slams shut because what. the. hell. Robin is 99% sure that she and Barney just had comfort sex, and now he’s inviting her to stay in the Fortress of Barnitude while he’s not even home? She’s positive that the only other girl who’s ever been allowed in this apartment unsupervised is Lily.
Robin stares at the scalloped ceiling, wills her heart to stop hammering in her chest. This is crazy. He’s just being considerate, that’s all. He’s being a good friend. There’s nothing weird about that, and she should chill out and take advantage of his hospitality and go to sleep like her body’s dying to do. She definitely shouldn’t be feeling like she’s about to hurl.
She takes a breath, closes her eyes.
Ten minutes later she’s hailing a cab.
-
She goes on a date with Rock-Climber Mike on Friday instead of going to hang at the bar, and she spends all of dinner trying to convince herself that she called him because she enjoys his company and because he has a nice ass, not because Barney royally freaked her out the other day.
And it’s definitely not because a part of her really likes the idea of getting issued a permanent pass to Barney’s apartment. No, she’ll stick with the sex visa; safer for everyone that way.
Besides, Barney would never go for it. At least, that’s what she thought; now, well, she’s not so sure.
After dessert and drinks she decides to bring Mike to MacLaren’s, just to prove she can, and the first thing she sees when she walks in the door is Barney sucking face with a blonde chick by the jukebox.
“Ah,” she stutters awkwardly, and Mike frowns. She should feel relieved; after all, she’s spent most of the week silently freaking out over Barney getting too attached to her. But instead of dissolving, the anxiety floods into nerves, pools sick and heavy in the pit of her stomach, and she has no fucking idea why.
Lily waves them over to the booth; she tries to shake it off. It’s fine, it’s totally, totally fine. Totally fine, until she goes up to the bar to grab everyone another round and a familiar Armani-clad elbow slides into her line of vision.
“Come home with me tonight,” he says, leaning into her space.
Robin quirks an eyebrow, taps her fingernails against the polished wood as Carl makes Lily’s gin and tonic. “I’m on a date.”
“So?”
“So, what’s wrong with that girl? You looked like you were about to close the deal. It’s like a bimbo buffet in here.”
He rubs his neck, shrugs. “There’s nothing wrong with her. But shouldn’t you trade up if you have the option?” He shoots a glance at Mike. “And for you it would definitely be trading up; that dude is like, barely a seven.” Barney hops onto the stool next to her, steals the beer meant for Marshall. “Simple economics, my friend. Wait, no, sexonomics.” He squints. “Get-your-Freak-onomics, hey-o!”
“I’m not even going to pretend to understand what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on. Look at that girl; it’s going to take me at least two more hours of effort to get her into bed. And even if I do get her clothes off, what do you think the probability is of her letting me do that thing that we did last Saturday?”
Robin glances over, carefully considers the flat gold sandals and the barrette. “Twenty percent.”
Barney grins at her, and her traitorous stomach flips a little. “Exactly. Two hours and twenty percent. But with you it’s like… fifteen minutes and seventy percent. Plus you’re five times hotter than her.”
Her cheeks flush a little just thinking about it. “Yeah, more like eighty-five percent.”
“Yes.” Barney claps a little, almost knocks over the stolen beer. “Now we’re talking!”
And because she’s clearly mentally ill, at the end of the night she kisses Mike goodbye and sends him on his way. She should probably be disgusted with herself, but then Barney kisses her as soon as she slides into the cab, fingers warm on her cheek, and she totally, totally isn’t.
-
Things are easier after that, mostly because she stops trying to figure out why they’re doing what they’re doing. ‘Simple economics,’ she tells herself; sleeping with Barney is eminently practical. Whatever, it’s as good a reason as any.
And if she catches herself drifting, daydreaming about his lips and his smell and his stupid laugh, well, it’s not a big deal. It’s only natural that all the sex stuff eventually starts seeping into the rest of her life.
“Mmm, wanna go down to the bar later?” She winds arms tighter around his neck, smiles as his tongue traces an electric, sparking trail along her collarbone.
“Eh, I’m right where I want to be.” He snorts into her shoulder, cracks himself up a little. “In your vagina, what up?”
She smacks the back of his head, but that doesn’t stop the smile curling at her lip. “You know what I really want to do tonight?”
“Besides me?”
She ignores him. “I think we should put baking powder in Ted’s hair gel. So it looks like he has dandruff.”
Barney stills against her. “Yes,” he blurts fervently. “God, I-“ but then his voice dries up and he looks away. Digs his fingers into her hips and urges her up again.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he mutters. “It’s nothing.”
-
Just before Halloween, Barney gets sent to North Korea on business for a month.
“I didn’t even know U.S. citizens were allowed to go to North Korea.”
“Ted, please,” Barney says. “And Pyongyang is beautiful this time of year.”
“Well, we’ll miss you, I guess,” Lily offers. Marshall raises a glass to that, and Barney seems genuinely touched.
Robin’s the only one of them with a car, so she volunteers to drop him off at the airport. When they roll to a stop in front of the terminal she hesitates, fingers digging into the vinyl steering wheel cover. She feels like she should say something to him, but she doesn’t have any idea what it should be.
“Have a good flight,” she finally says lamely.
“Yeah.” He fidgets with his passport, blows out a breath. “Okay Scherbatsky, catch you on the flipside,” and then he’s out the door, circling the car to grab his bag. She watches him go, jams down on the power window button just as the automatic glass doors swish open.
“Barney!” When he turns back, she grins. “Distance high five!” She slaps the air, and he smiles. Then winks, waves cheerily, and disappears into the departure lobby.
Robin bites her lip, smiles to herself as she eases the car away from the curb.
-
Three days later Robin’s at her desk pulling stories for tomorrow from the wire reports when she reads something that makes her spit nonfat hazelnut latte all over her keyboard. Before she even registers what she’s doing, her phone’s out of her pocket and her finger’s jammed on the speed dial.
The line rings, rings, and then “Hold the dirty stuff, Scherbatsky. Dear Leader is monitoring my phone calls.”
“There wasn’t going to be any dirty stuff.”
Barney hums sadly. “Too bad. So then why are you calling me in the middle of the night?”
Time difference, whoops. “I just think it’s awfully suspicious that you jet off to Pyongyang, and three days later North Korea is testing its shiny new long-range ballistic missiles.”
“Uh, when is North Korea not doing a missile test?”
“Admit it.”
“Is this what passes for investigative journalism these days?”
“I’m just saying: if you’re involved in the arms trade, why the hell am I still buying guns at retail price? A good friend would at least get me the wholesale discount.”
His laughter sends a little frisson of something down her back. “Goodnight, Robin,” he says, voice warm, and she can still hear him chuckling when the line clicks off.
-
“I’m ninety percent sure Barney’s helping sell missiles to North Korea right now,” Robin tells them casually over her scotch that night.
“Oh god,” and Marshall claps his hands over his ears. “Please don’t say things like that in front of me. I don’t want to know anything.”
“Denial is the only way he’s dealing with it,” Lily explains, lays a comforting hand on Marshall’s shoulder. “He overheard something about voter fraud in Colombia when he went to ‘conference call’ Barney out of a meeting last week. This job is freaking him out.”
“I certainly wouldn’t be surprised.” Ted stretches yawns a little. “I try not to think too much about things Barney doesn’t tell us because every time I start to, I get terrifi-“ but his voice cuts out with another gigantic yawn. “Time for me to turn in; I’ve got a meeting at seven tomorrow.”
Lily grabs her purse. “Yeah, us too.”
Robin blinks. “You guys are going already?”
She gets an apologetic look from Lily, but she keeps on bundling Marshall out. “Have a good night; hope the show goes well.”
And Robin finds herself at the bar at ten p.m. with no one to keep her company but her scotch, and with five hours to kill before work. “Well, crap.”
-
Honestly, Robin hadn’t realized how much she’s started to rely on Barney for entertainment. She keeps finding herself alone in the apartment after Marshall and Lily leave the bar, watching infomercials until she has to go to work. Hell, even the gym closes by eleven.
She tries hanging out at the cigar bar alone, but she’s bored of it after an hour. The pick-up lines aren’t even funny; most of the guys there tend to open with an off-hand comment about their Porsche. She goes on a few dates, has some passable, if boring, sex with a guy her friend from work sets her up with. On the weekend, Ted refuses to go with her to the shooting range; she finds out that getting five consecutive bulls-eyes is way less awesome when you don’t have someone to gloat to about it. It’ gets so bad that she starts thinking about calling the Woo girls again.
Sometimes her fingers will start inching towards her phone while the ShamWow dude drones on in the background but… something always freezes them before she dials. It’s not like she and Barney routinely talk on the phone; why on earth would they start now?
On a rainy Friday in mid-November, Robin turns thirty. Lily bakes her this amazing tiramisu cake that mostly tastes like brandy (A+ for that) and she, Marshall and Ted take her out to this great Indian place where they all proceed to get hammered on mid-dollar champagne.
“Thirty is great,” Ted tells her seriously after his fourth glass. “Thirty treated me with the love and respect I deserve.”
“Presents!” Lily squeals. “Marshall and I got you an espresso maker.”
Marshall pats her arm. “Way to ruin the surprise, baby.”
She does indeed receive an espresso maker, and a monogrammed set of bath towels from Ted.
“To replace the ones the goat ate. And so you stop stealing mine,” he explains. “Plus, I know how much you love shit with your name on it.”
“Thanks, guys. This is too much, seriously.”Another box materializes in front of her, and she frowns at Ted. “What’s this?”
He shrugs. “Barney. And I’m under strict instructions to make you call him as soon as you open it.”
She slides fingers under the expensive-looking wrapping paper, lifts the top off the box and- oh holy shit. Holy fucking mother of god.
“What is it?” Lily rises up out of her chair a little to peer over the rim, and goes deathly pale. “Oh my god, there’s a gun in this restaurant.”
Marshall and Ted both recoil a little, but Robin’s still staring down because this isn’t just a gun, this is a special edition Colt M1911. She’s pretty sure they only manufacture fifty of these a year.
“Is that gold plating?” Marshall squints down closer into the box, but Lily draws him back again. “Seriously, they put gold plating on guns?”
She can’t answer because there’s nothing but static happening in her brain right now, just white noise and whatthehellwhatthehellwhatthehell. She whips out her phone.
“What the hell, Barney?” she says when he picks up, and it comes out angrier than she meant it to.
“Why, good morning to you too. You got your present, I assume,” and she can hear his shit-eating grin over an ocean and two continents.
“You know I can’t keep this. It must’ve cost you a fortune, Barney, what the hell were you thinking?”
“Well that’s too bad, since I went to the trouble of getting you licensed to carry it concealed, too.” When she doesn’t answer, his voice softens. “Robin, don’t freak out. I got it wholesale, get it? I know a guy.”
“You’re crazy,” she finally manages, because her throat’s closing up because she’s starting to grasp it and wow, that’s even scarier than the idea that he would’ve dropped a cool ten thousand for a birthday present.
“Crazy awesome, maybe. Happy 29th,” he grins warmly, and that makes her laugh through the lump.
“I’m thirty.”
“If that’s the way you wanna play it,” and he sounds so tinny and thin and far away and god, all in a rush she just wishes he were here. “Look, I’ve gotta go to a meeting. I’ll see you guys in a week or two when I get finished, okay?”
“Bye,” she says before the connection terminates, and she’s left staring at the phone like an idiot. She looks into the box again and the tide rises up, pulls her in because this isn’t a present, it’s a secret. It’s a piece of Barney that he’s never shared before, and it’s for her.
This shouldn’t feel so important.
Before she can stop she’s pressing her hand over her mouth, trying desperately to hold it back, but the tears start anyway. God, crying in a restaurant. This is probably the most mortifying moment of her life.
Ted leans over quickly, wraps arms around her and pulls her into his shoulder. “Hey,” he murmurs into her hair, rubs her back. “I know. It’s okay,” but that just makes her hiccup a sob into his ugly striped sweater.
“I just,” and thankfully the wool muffles her voice so the whole restaurant isn’t privy to her meltdown. “I miss him.”
Ted keeps rocking her, and finally Robin manages to get herself under control enough to glance up. Lily and Marshall are staring at her, confusion all over their faces.
“Okay, did I miss something?”
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Ted says, exasperated. “They’ve been sleeping together for months.”
-
“You and Barney,” Lily says over coffee once they make it back to the apartment. “Wow. This is huge.”
“We’re not- it’s not serious.”
She frowns over her mug, and Marshall raises an eyebrow. “You’re crying in public and it’s not serious?”
“You guys cried when I left for Japan. Friends miss each other; that’s totally normal.” They share a look, and that prickles. She’s not stupid; she knows her feelings for Barney at this point aren’t exactly platonic, but she also knows that they’re pretty hopeless so she’s trying not to think about it. “It’s really nothing. It’s sex.”
They let it go, and the tide of conversation turns back to Lily’s class. Lily and Marshall head home after cake, and Robin’s left sitting quietly with Ted as he sips his coffee. This isn’t how she wanted this to go.
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you,” she says once she gathers enough nerve. “We should have. It just- it felt too private, you know? And I think Barney was scared you’d be mad.”
Ted shrugs, takes another sip. “It was a little weird, I’ll admit. And about what happened the first time: I wasn’t mad that you guys slept together. I was mad because I thought it was about me.”
“What?”
“I mean, I thought it was about Barney sleeping with my ex-girlfriend. You know how competitive he is.” He looks down into his coffee contemplatively. “But now I get that it wasn’t about me at all. It was about you.”
She sighs a little, because she could’ve told him that in the first place if he’d just thought to ask. “Yeah. How’d you figure out we were sleeping together again?”
“Oh come on, you guys aren’t stealthy. You disappear for entire weekends, yet never produce a boyfriend? And let’s not talk about all the times that I passed Barney on his way out of the building and got up here to find you in the shower.”
“Right.” She presses the heels of her hands into her eyes as hard as she can. “I really am sorry. I should’ve talked to you about it.”
“Robin,” he says gently, “really, I’m not upset. If anything, it’s been good. Seeing how happy you guys are like this, separate apartments, separate lives, well. There was a part of me that was still holding on to you, that kept saying she’s young, maybe someday she’ll change her mind. Part of me thought we still had a chance, and I get now that I was holding back because of it. But you’ve been happier lately than you ever were when we were together, and I could never be happy living like this. And you’re never going to change your mind.”
She’s tearing up again. “There was a part of me that thought that too, you know. It was nice to think you’d be there.”
Ted smiles unsteadily at her; his eyes are wet. “Past tense.”
“Past tense,” she affirms and something in her chest clenches up and oh god, she’s really in love with Barney Stinson. “So what do I do?”
“No idea.” He takes her hand. “Just don’t chicken out, okay? Barney whines like a little bitch whenever you’re not around to go bro-ing with him. When you went to visit your mom over the summer, he was such a nightmare that Lily had to ban him from the booth.”
-
The holidays creep up the way they always do; twinkly lights that appear out of nowhere, surly-looking elves invading department stores. The food is delicious as always, but their Barney-less Thanksgiving just feels sort of wrong. They all crowd around the phone to call him as they eat their pie, but it rings once and goes straight through to voicemail.
She almost calls him the next day, and then the next, and then the day after that, but she just doesn’t have the words.
Robin’s mid-sip when Marshall lets out a girly squeal from across the booth. She looks up from her wine glass and Barney’s standing casually over the table, immaculate as always. “Sup, guys?”
She doesn’t quite know how it happens but suddenly they’re all caught in a five-way hug, and she and Ted are most definitely not jumping up and down like five-year olds.
“You’re back,” Lily enthuses to him, pulls back a little to stare at Robin expectantly. “We missed you.”
Barney snorts. “Well, who wouldn’t? That’s a given, Lily.”
Robin opens her mouth, snaps it shut. “Who wants drinks?”
He follows her to the bar, slides in to lean next to her. “Hey,” and when she looks up he’s smiling.
“They know,” she blurts guiltily. “About us.”
“Oh, thank god,” and then his hands are on her shoulders as he steers her toward the door.
She trips a little when they hit the pavement outside. “Barney, the hell?
He cocks his head, takes a step back. “Wait, you don’t want to go upstairs for a quickie?”
Ah. “Actually, that sounds great.”
He nods into the leer. “Yes! Daddy’s home!”
Oh, gross. “Nope, I changed my mind.” He probably doesn’t believe her though, considering that right after she says it she fists her hands in his lapels and kisses him so hard they both almost fall down the stairs.
Robin really hopes they make it back to the apartment.
-
She means to say something the next morning, but they slide so seamlessly back to where they were before he left that she doesn’t even know how to start. Plus, it’s a thousand times more fun to spend the morning cracking communism jokes instead.
“Stop, hammer time!” she sings cheerfully when she steps into the shower. Barney laughs, then slides soapy hands down her ass and obliges.
It almost comes out at the cigar bar; she can’t stop noticing how good he looks in this suit and he’s standing so close to her at the bar she can feel his breath on her cheek, but then he waves his cigar at a beefy guy across the room.
“How about him? Totally your type.”
“Right,” she says, and oh, who is she kidding? Barney doesn’t do love stuff. If she says anything it’s just going to freak him out and she’d rather have him in her life like this than not have him in her life at all.
Whatever, she hates relationships anyway.
-
“Bawk,” Ted clucks under his breath as he pours her more eggnog in the kitchen after Christmas dinner.
“Shut up.”
“You’re a chicken,” he calls after her.
-
Two days before New Year’s, Robin does an interview with Steve “the Slammer” Michealson, star forward for the Vancouver Canucks. She barely gets through the segment without giggling because wow, he’s really tall. She doesn’t usually get starstruck, but oh man, she’s already spotted two scars and she’s pretty sure he’s missing a tooth.
“Thanks,” he says as the sound techs fuss around with their microphones. “That was a really great interview.”
“Because you were great,” and she’s blushing, and wow, when did it get so hot in here?
He leans in. “Hey, I’m here for a few more days and I don’t know a lot of people in New York. How would you like to have dinner on Friday?”
“I’d love to,” she blurts.
-
“On New Year’s,” Barney says flatly. “You’re ditching us for a hockey player on New Year’s.”
“I’m not ditching you; I said we’ll come back to the bar after.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Robin squints at him, tries not to notice how Lily and Ted and Marshall are all shrinking down in their seats, trying to look inconspicuous. “What’s your problem?”
Barney laughs, but there’s none of his usual mirth in it. “Nothing. I am totally awesome. Have a legendary time.” He picks up his scotch and slides out of the booth. “Excuse me.”
The awkward silence at the table is stifling.
It bursts out. “We’re not together!” Marshall frowns; she waves a hand to emphasize. “I mean, he banged that Asian chick in the bathroom three nights ago!”
“Robin,” Lily starts, very carefully. “He’s scared, too.”
-
sudden stop
-
She spends Friday feeling alternately pissed and nauseous. Steve picks her up at the apartment and they go to this fantastic steakhouse and he looks really, really hot, but all she can think about is how much Barney would love this place. It’s totally his style, lots of black leather sofas and polished mahogany trim. Plus all the waitresses are showing significant amounts of boob, and oh, what the hell is wrong with her?
After a jacketed busboy whisks away the remains of her steak, Steve raises his glass. “To new beginnings.”
She smiles half-heartedly, clinks his glass, and then excuses herself to the restroom before her mascara starts to run. She twists the tap, splashes some water on her face. Checks her watch; it’s just after eleven.
Robin stares at herself in the mirror. She can go out there and smile and have what will probably be really great sex with a guy that she’s never going to have to see again, or she can man up and spend New Year’s with the people who really matter to her.
She grabs her purse, winds her way out to the table.
“Steve, I have to go.”
-
Fifty bucks gets Robin to MacLaren’s in ten minutes. She bursts in, scans the crowd, and her heart sinks. They’re not here. “Carl,” she says, a little desperately. “Carl, have you seen Barney?”
He looks up, frowns. “Sure, he left with a couple of girls about an hour ago. Are you okay? You need something?”
All of her nervous, giddy energy fizzes out, and she sinks down onto a bar stool. “No. It’s fine.” She dials Lily, then Ted, but the network is busy and none of the calls go through. Great, alone on New Year’s, and the person she wants to see more than anything in the world is probably fucking some other woman because he thinks she doesn’t care about him.
Carl slides her a scotch. “On the house, okay?”
Her answering smile is a little watery, and she sighs, loses herself in the warm buzz when she takes a sip.
-
Worst night ever, she thinks as Ryan Seacrest shouts into his microphone and the bachelorette party in the corner decides that the bar really needs to hear their drunken cover of Whitesnake. She swirls her scotch. New Year’s Eve can die in a fucking fire.
Carl clears his throat and when she glances up he’s smiling at her. Then someone’s breath brushes her neck; there’s a familiar voice in her ear.
“A hundred dollars says when you turn around-“
The rest of it gets lost in her lips; she clutches at the back of his neck and he leans into her, arms wrapping around her waist as he presses her into the edge of the bar. Her heart’s hammering in her chest and his hands are everywhere: in her hair, brushing her cheek, sliding along her ass. He’s here, he’s really here. He came back. She feels a little lightheaded; it must be the scotch.
The bar counts down around them, explodes into sound and cheers and hugging. Barney finally pulls back enough to look at her. “Happy New Year,” he says, and his smile is so bright her eyes hurt.
She smoothes a hand down his tie, straightens the knot. “You didn’t say wow. Pretty sure you owe me a hundred bucks.”
He winks, leans in again. “I’m more than willing to work off the debt.”
-
Unsurprisingly, they end up in the alley with his belt undone.
“Wait,” Barney wheezes a little. “I have to say something to give this the emotional weight it deserves.” She raises an eyebrow, and he grins. “There are two chicks making out on my couch right now.”
“So? I could’ve nailed a professional hockey player.”
“Robin,” and he gives her a suffering look. “Chicks making out.”
“Okay, fine. You win.”
He grins, goes back to slicking kisses along her neck. “We’re gonna be so awesome. Like, the idea alone is blowing my mind. I knew you’d be here; how crazy is that? I just knew it. Crazy awesome, that’s how crazy it is.”
She bites her lip. “Barney-“
“That was like, the best New Year’s kiss ever, right?”
“Oh, it definitely was.”
“Hah!” and when he pulls back to shoot a victorious grin at her, she feels her heart skip a terrifying, dizzy beat. “Marshall and Lily can totally suck it!”
The look in his eyes is making her chest hurt; she looks away because this is all moving too fast, and god she has to say it so everything’s on the table. She doesn’t think she could take it if she lets herself fall and then they crash and burn because she can’t give him what he wants. She couldn’t take losing him that way. She needs to say it.
“I don’t want to get married,” she blurts into the crisp fold of his lapel. “I don’t ever want that kind of commitment, and I don’t ever want kids.”
His hand smoothes along her back. “And you seriously think that would be a deal breaker? Wow, it’s like you don’t know me at all.”
She breathes him in, cigars and expensive cologne. “And I don’t want to be stuck in New York. I want to travel. I want to live in Greece. And Thailand. I want to be able to go where my life takes me.”
Robin can feel the rise and fall his shoulders as he shrugs. “My company owns two airlines. I fly for free.”
A lump tickles in her throat and she tries to laugh it out, but it bubbles up more like a sob. “Barney, I can’t-“
“Robin,” he interrupts shakily, and the un-Barneyish rawness of it twists in her chest, snags and grinds everything to a halt. “Robin, I’m not trying to tie you down. Neither of us wants that. But I’m tired of pretending that you’re not the most important person in my life.”
“Wow,” and she leans into him, letting the words linger a moment. Sniffles a little, dammit. “That was like, your best line ever.”
His inarticulate sound of frustration tickles against her scalp. “I’m trying to bare my soul here.”
“Yeah.” She breathes in deep, tips her head up to look him in the eyes. Counts to three, exhales it all. “I adore you, you know. Totally gone.”
A familiar smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. “Really?” and when she nods his face splits into a grin. She can feel her expression mirroring his own and wow, she doesn’t think she’s ever felt so stupid and giddy before. “Well then,” and he steps back, dusts his hands off triumphantly, “feelings talk accomplished. Let us never speak of it again.”
“You know, I hear ‘I love you’ sex is pretty mind-blowing.”
He grabs her hand, starts pulling her out of the alley towards the front stairs as the sounds of New York celebrating rise up all around them. “All right, Scherbatsky, now you’re speaking my language! This year is gonna be legen -wait for it-”
She laughs.
-
If Robin learned anything from Ted, it’s that loving someone is never a guarantee. Loving someone doesn’t mean everything’s gonna work out. But when she thinks about them, about cigar smoke and skin and never having to pretend to want something that you don’t, well, she feels pretty optimistic.
Then one night at dinner she tries to steal some of the hot fudge off the top of his sundae but Barney blocks her spoon with his own, a fencer’s parry, and stares her down. “Excuse you. Do I look like the ice cream fairy or something?”
Lily’s gaping at him, horror written all over her face because Barney’s just violated one of the most sacred laws of coupledom, but he doesn’t even notice because he’s too busy killing her with his eyes.
“Order your own, geeze,” he says peevishly.
And right then, Robin just knows.
-
Once upon a time, Robin Scherbatsky met a guy. She didn’t fall in love with him, but then later she did, and he ended up being the best friend she’s ever had. And somewhere in between all that she met his best friend, and his best friend’s wife, and his other really good friend who became her best friend who she had lots and lots of sex with until she realized that the thought of life without him kind of made her want to vomit.
And that’s when things really started getting interesting.
-
It’s another Friday night at MacLaren’s, comfortably familiar. Familiar booth, same old scotch and soda, same welcome weight of Barney’s arm slung carelessly over the back of the bench.
Ted’s introducing them all to his date, a sunshiny girl named Erin. Robin likes her immediately, likes how genuinely she smiles as Marshall and Lily tell the story of how they met. The ‘awww’ comes from the heart. And she liked the way Ted grinned as he told them how he and Erin met, something about a shouting match in the rain over his umbrella. Barney rolled his eyes but Ted’s got that look, that ‘let’s fall in love and get married and have babies’ look that terrified her so deeply, but Erin doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, Erin’s got a little of that look herself.
Robin can see their love story blooming already, can see Ted and Erin holding hands and smiling at each other as they tell the umbrella story to a thousand different people over the next forty years, choreographing and tweaking it to perfection just the way Marshall and Lily have.
And then she realizes that the thought doesn’t bother her at all.
“So,” Erin turns to her and smiles her sweet, infectious smile. “How did you and Barney meet?”
She smirks at him. Because really, how the hell do you even begin to answer that? Barney just laughs, his knee bumping hers under the table.
“Please,” he says.
-
and then they awesomed and lazer-tagged forever and Barney always had the skin and libido of a much younger man, THE END