HIMYM Fanfic: "Legenfamily" 1/5 B/R
Title: Legenfamily 1/5
Pairing: Barney/Robin
Word Count: 1062
Rating: PG-13 (mature themes)
Summary: Older and wiser, a divorced Barney and Robin face an unexpected development that will bind them together forever.
Author's Note: This was meant to be the Robin-is-#31 story, but soon took a turn of its own.
PART ONE
New York, 2019
Barney made his way to the podium at the front of the brick-walled basement chapel, hands in pockets to conceal a bad case of the shakes. Three steps shy of his target, his phone vibrated in his suit pocket. He took it out to watch the image of himself and Robin in their wedding finery filled the screen. He should have changed her caller ID. “Sorry, guys. Emergency.” He put the phone to his ear and turned his back to the group. “Are you okay?” His pulse pounded as he waited to hear her voice.
For the second-longest three seconds of his life, the line was silent. He heard a catch in her breath, then, “We need to talk. Now. Not on the phone.”
Language deserted him. “I’m in a meeting right now. Can I call you back in an hour?”
Another pause. “You’re in a meeting. I get it. You don’t have to call. Forget it. It’s stupid.”
Stupid, from Robin, meant serious. Sweat beaded on his brow. “I really want to talk to you, but I can’t leave this meeting. Sixty minutes. I will call you. I promise.” He dropped the phone back into his pocket and took a deep breath before gripping the edge of the podium. “Hi, my name is Barney, and I’m a sex addict.”
“Hi, Barney.” Two dozen voices sounded as one, enfolding with security and acceptance.
His shaking subsided. “I’ve been free of high risk behavior for seven weeks and three days. It’s been hard.” He coughed into his fist. “Bad word choice, but appropriate. That was my ex-wife on the phone, and right now, all I can think about is how beautiful she is and how great it would feel to lose myself inside her even one more time. That, and exactly how long it would take me to get to a bar and zero in on some girl who kind of looks like her, and how empty I would feel after.” He closed his eyes, his fists clenching as he concentrated on the moment. I feel frustrated. I feel afraid. I want to know why Robin called me.
He let the usual responses to an unexpected heavy silence pulse through him, voices that had become as familiar as his own heartbeat shoring him up when he might crumble. A deep, rumbling, “Feel for you buddy,” came from a seat near the back.
“Stay strong.” Those words came in quiet, halting, broken English from one of the middle rows.
“Barney? Barney?”
He raised his hand, palm out, at the sound of the woman’s voice. If he stopped for questions now, he’d never get through the rest of this. “We’ll have some time for discussion in a few minutes.”
“Barney.” No question this time, and the voice came from far closer than even the front row. “Your phone is still on.”
Robin? Barney whipped the phone out of his pocket and swallowed a curse. Heat scorched along his cheeks and jaw as he ended the call.
James rose from his seat in the second row. “Talk to her. Take a minute and then call her back. I’ll take over here.”
“Thanks.” Barney’s composure crumbled the second the chapel door closed behind him. He made a beeline for the plain wooden bench set into the wall beneath a portrait of some saint he couldn’t name. God. Robin. God. That was all the prayer he could manage. If anybody was listening, it would have to be enough, because he didn’t have anything left.
He wasn’t perfect, but most days, he did okay. Most nights were slightly more difficult, interminable, and weighted down by a soul-crushing loneliness. He stayed away from bars, attended conferences by satellite rather than travel. He'd joined a men's only gym, taking over James's membership, easing Tom’s concerns and providing himself a safe haven at the same time. He'd never been in better physical shape in his life, even if he couldn't let anyone else appreciate that fact.
Except that he had, one glorious, shameful, legendary night seven weeks and three days ago. He knew, from experience, that there was no place, no time, no state of mind in which the sight of Robin Sherbatsky would not cause him to throw good sense out the window and lose himself in the irresistible splendor of her. Seven weeks and three days later, he still couldn't shake the image of Robin, standing at the podium of the grand ballroom in the Coronet hotel, couldn't forget the way she held every ear with her impassioned speech on how the love and companionship of her rescued dogs got her through the darkest time of her life.
She hadn’t mentioned the divorce specifically, but Barney knew. He'd written two big checks to Supermutts Dog Rescue that night, one from GNB, and one from his own account. Handed them to her personally and shaken hands for a photo op, a powerful surge of need coursing straight through him.
It hadn't mattered at all that the two of them hadn't been in the same building, let alone the same room in three very, very long years. The chemistry and connection between them was still there, all the stronger for having been denied. He'd meant to walk away, after a few minutes of mature, civil conversation. He’d meant to call James and talk it out, but there hadn't been time.
All it took was Robin's "Walk me to my car?" That tilt of her head, the touch of her hand on his arm, and everything that was them roared back to life, desperate and starving. They'd made it as far as the elevator before falling on each other like wild animals. Elevator, her car, elevator again, this time up to the VIP suite, where time had ceased to exist until morning.
She'd slipped from his arms in the pale light of dawn. Her dogs needed to go out, she’d said when he asked her to stay. He couldn't argue with that, and he hadn't. They'd promised to keep in touch, but neither of them had, until now, seven weeks and three days later. He hauled himself to his feet and started for the elevator.
Seven... weeks... and... three... days. Barney stopped in mid-stride. The old anxiety clutched him in its grip. He snatched the phone from his pocket and called up Robin's number. "Are you pregnant?"
Pairing: Barney/Robin
Word Count: 1062
Rating: PG-13 (mature themes)
Summary: Older and wiser, a divorced Barney and Robin face an unexpected development that will bind them together forever.
Author's Note: This was meant to be the Robin-is-#31 story, but soon took a turn of its own.
PART ONE
New York, 2019
Barney made his way to the podium at the front of the brick-walled basement chapel, hands in pockets to conceal a bad case of the shakes. Three steps shy of his target, his phone vibrated in his suit pocket. He took it out to watch the image of himself and Robin in their wedding finery filled the screen. He should have changed her caller ID. “Sorry, guys. Emergency.” He put the phone to his ear and turned his back to the group. “Are you okay?” His pulse pounded as he waited to hear her voice.
For the second-longest three seconds of his life, the line was silent. He heard a catch in her breath, then, “We need to talk. Now. Not on the phone.”
Language deserted him. “I’m in a meeting right now. Can I call you back in an hour?”
Another pause. “You’re in a meeting. I get it. You don’t have to call. Forget it. It’s stupid.”
Stupid, from Robin, meant serious. Sweat beaded on his brow. “I really want to talk to you, but I can’t leave this meeting. Sixty minutes. I will call you. I promise.” He dropped the phone back into his pocket and took a deep breath before gripping the edge of the podium. “Hi, my name is Barney, and I’m a sex addict.”
“Hi, Barney.” Two dozen voices sounded as one, enfolding with security and acceptance.
His shaking subsided. “I’ve been free of high risk behavior for seven weeks and three days. It’s been hard.” He coughed into his fist. “Bad word choice, but appropriate. That was my ex-wife on the phone, and right now, all I can think about is how beautiful she is and how great it would feel to lose myself inside her even one more time. That, and exactly how long it would take me to get to a bar and zero in on some girl who kind of looks like her, and how empty I would feel after.” He closed his eyes, his fists clenching as he concentrated on the moment. I feel frustrated. I feel afraid. I want to know why Robin called me.
He let the usual responses to an unexpected heavy silence pulse through him, voices that had become as familiar as his own heartbeat shoring him up when he might crumble. A deep, rumbling, “Feel for you buddy,” came from a seat near the back.
“Stay strong.” Those words came in quiet, halting, broken English from one of the middle rows.
“Barney? Barney?”
He raised his hand, palm out, at the sound of the woman’s voice. If he stopped for questions now, he’d never get through the rest of this. “We’ll have some time for discussion in a few minutes.”
“Barney.” No question this time, and the voice came from far closer than even the front row. “Your phone is still on.”
Robin? Barney whipped the phone out of his pocket and swallowed a curse. Heat scorched along his cheeks and jaw as he ended the call.
James rose from his seat in the second row. “Talk to her. Take a minute and then call her back. I’ll take over here.”
“Thanks.” Barney’s composure crumbled the second the chapel door closed behind him. He made a beeline for the plain wooden bench set into the wall beneath a portrait of some saint he couldn’t name. God. Robin. God. That was all the prayer he could manage. If anybody was listening, it would have to be enough, because he didn’t have anything left.
He wasn’t perfect, but most days, he did okay. Most nights were slightly more difficult, interminable, and weighted down by a soul-crushing loneliness. He stayed away from bars, attended conferences by satellite rather than travel. He'd joined a men's only gym, taking over James's membership, easing Tom’s concerns and providing himself a safe haven at the same time. He'd never been in better physical shape in his life, even if he couldn't let anyone else appreciate that fact.
Except that he had, one glorious, shameful, legendary night seven weeks and three days ago. He knew, from experience, that there was no place, no time, no state of mind in which the sight of Robin Sherbatsky would not cause him to throw good sense out the window and lose himself in the irresistible splendor of her. Seven weeks and three days later, he still couldn't shake the image of Robin, standing at the podium of the grand ballroom in the Coronet hotel, couldn't forget the way she held every ear with her impassioned speech on how the love and companionship of her rescued dogs got her through the darkest time of her life.
She hadn’t mentioned the divorce specifically, but Barney knew. He'd written two big checks to Supermutts Dog Rescue that night, one from GNB, and one from his own account. Handed them to her personally and shaken hands for a photo op, a powerful surge of need coursing straight through him.
It hadn't mattered at all that the two of them hadn't been in the same building, let alone the same room in three very, very long years. The chemistry and connection between them was still there, all the stronger for having been denied. He'd meant to walk away, after a few minutes of mature, civil conversation. He’d meant to call James and talk it out, but there hadn't been time.
All it took was Robin's "Walk me to my car?" That tilt of her head, the touch of her hand on his arm, and everything that was them roared back to life, desperate and starving. They'd made it as far as the elevator before falling on each other like wild animals. Elevator, her car, elevator again, this time up to the VIP suite, where time had ceased to exist until morning.
She'd slipped from his arms in the pale light of dawn. Her dogs needed to go out, she’d said when he asked her to stay. He couldn't argue with that, and he hadn't. They'd promised to keep in touch, but neither of them had, until now, seven weeks and three days later. He hauled himself to his feet and started for the elevator.
Seven... weeks... and... three... days. Barney stopped in mid-stride. The old anxiety clutched him in its grip. He snatched the phone from his pocket and called up Robin's number. "Are you pregnant?"