The Spark (Barney/Robin) w/ mention of (Robin/Ted) 3/?
Title: The Spark: Act II
Author: lilithisbitter
Rating: R (Darkfic, Sex, and Barney's mental issues)
Spoilers: Pilot through Legendaddy
Word Count: 5000+ (This Part)
Summary: Like a coin, every story has two sides. This is the side of the Rough Patch that Ted Mosby never saw. Barney Stinson's side. He only thought he was saving Robin Scherbatsky from discovering the monster he really was. He had no idea of the mess he would leave in his wake.
Previous Chapters:
Act O: The One That You Put On a Pedestal
Act I: And I Just Can’t Contain This Feeling That Remains
Author's Notes: Wait... don't run. While this fic does cover The Rough Patch among other episodes, Barney Stinson does not become morbidly obese. It instead asks the logical question... what if Barney Stinson was really wearing a fat suit the whole time? I played around with this concept in my head for over a year until recently. Somebody on our LJ group watched The Rough Patch and it inspired me to finally start writing this. So, thank you. Thank you everyone for inspiring me.
Act II: Dynamite With a Laser Beam
2009
“Barney… you lied to me.” Why did Robin have to look at him with those eyes.
“I… I’m sorry.” The words fell off his tongue like clay, clumsy and so unlike him. “I wish I could take it back.” The shower pounded at his back as he stood in front of her.
She could see the lie for herself, the pieces of that damnable fat suit scattered around the bathroom, so he could stride out into the world, to show everyone how breaking up was the best decision that either of them could have made. Because it was wrong. Ir was utterly wrong. In this world… nobody had faith in them and that was why it had to end. Fade into dust, so to speak.
And then a voice at the back corner of his mind piped up like the traitor it was and asked “Was it really? It was just a rough patch.”
“Is that all you can say? I’m sorry?”
Robin’s glare was a lesser version of Lily’s “Your dead to me look.” He shrank under it all the same. If he had to come with a name for it, he would called it her, “You’re nothing at all to me look.” Barney’s perfectly sculptured chest and flat stomach with his wasp-like waist gleamed with water, perfectly wrong and the truth under the layers of fat. “I can explain. I…”
Robin only shook her head and gestured at the fat suit. “I came up here, ready to give us a second chance and here I find out you’ve been lying all this time?” She waved her hand at Barney. “You lying son of a bitch. I came back, because I didn’t fall in love with you for your looks. Heck, I would have unhooked you from a bra. That’s love, bitch.”
Barney’s lip quivered. “Wait… you… you… you... oh… love me… really-really? It’s not like with Ted? Not you’re not humoring me?”
She sighed and looked older and sicker than she had before. “Barney… why?”
Pointing at her, Barney said, “Because you were killing yourself for me. You’re not healthy, Robin. I want my Robin, not some dredged up corpse.” As soon as he said it, he wanted to take it back.
“So now we know why that girl tried to kill you with a brick!” she snapped.
“Take it back,” he begged. “Please. We broke up on good terms. As the fat man and old lady. We get pretty and we heal.”
Robin shook her head in disgust. “I am pretty,” she said, shaking her freshly washed hair. He could see that she had put on make up, put concealer on the circles under her blue eyes and treated that bit of acne. “I’m always pretty, Barnaby.” He winced when she called him that. It sounded way too stiff and formal. “You’re pretty too. It’s just your insides are ugly.”
And that hurt worst of all.
“Robin… please…” His voice cracked.
“I understand,” she whispered. “Well, you can have your perfect lie. Put on your best suit and meet me at MacLaren’s. You’ll get over me. Everyone always does.”
“I don’t think I can,” he whispered.
“Damnit, Barney,” Robin said. “Don’t make this so hard. This is your easy out. Take it.”
“How?” he asked hollowly. She should have never come here, never caught him in a lie. “It’s not like I have a playbook for these things.”
“Then write one,” she said. “If that’s how you get over me, do that. Be heartless again. Heck, this whole fat suit thing was pretty heartless.”
“I-I-I didn’t mean it!”
“Well… what did it mean?!” Robin screamed. “Because it had meaning to me.”
“I…”
---
“You didn’t let that woman get to you… did you?” Dr. Grossbard asked, leaning forward in curiosity.
Barney scoffed. Did the damned British man always have to pursue everything to its inevitable conclusion? “Course not. I’m totally untouchable.”
---
2005
“I cannot stand that woman,” Barney groused as his hairdresser fussed with his hair. Already half of his hair was up in foils, slathered in chemicals. “Seriously… what’s Ted chopping his balls off for?”
“She’s pretty,” Lily said from the opposite chair, beauty magazine already at ready. She flipped it down and gave Barney’s hair an appraising look. “Why the new look, Doll Face? I know I don’t ordinarily call you Doll Face, but if you go that blond and that short, you might as well be Doll Face.”
“Don’t make a habit of it,” Barney ordered.
Lily rolled her eyes and almost put her headphones back on. “Kinda sad how much Ted is going gaga over Miss Canada.” She paused and added, “Doll Face.” She giggled when Barney whined out of irritation. “I’ll stop when you stop reacting.” Another pause. “Man, it’s getting old already. I’ll shelve it for later.”
Barney glowered. “She has poor taste in hair. Clearly if she went gaga for Ted’s overly gelled quaff instead of yours truly beautiful do.”
“Screw her!” Lily automatically chirped, “Your hair made you look cute. At least keep it that length. I like the curls.” She didn’t take it back. Barney knew that Lily had a hidden lesbian side and she probably did want to literally screw Robin.
Not that he blamed her. Dark hair, blue eyes, legs up to there… legs that would look amazing wrapped around his waist as her nails racked down his back. Glancing in the mirror at his half-done up hair, Barney looked back at Lily. “Cute? No way, Red. I’m many things…. glorious things. Well endowed in more ways than one. I’m not cute. I’m definitely going for a new look.”
“I think the peroxide is seeping into your brain,” Lily ideally commented. “She is cute though. Way out of Ted’s league.” She flipped through her magazine some more. “Way out of your league too, Barney. She’s too good for you.”
“Hrmph,” Barney said. “Nobody is too good for me. Wouldn’t you say so, Claudette? You’d do me?” He looked up at his hairdresser and fluttered his eyelashes to their best advantage.
“Not for a million dollars,” Claudette said. “You’ve got girly eyelashes and I’m old enough to be your grandmother. Now stop squirming before you get chemicals in your eyes.”
Lily giggled behind her magazine.
“Oh shut up,” he said. “You’re not as funny as you think you are, Red.”
---
That night was his mother’s birthday. He really wasn’t in the mood of parading around his fake family again; he called in the process of making a cake. It was one of the few times his kitchen actually had food ingredients in it. Every time Barney baked it was a risky move. Girls drawn by the smell of good cooking always lingered around the door, wanting to become the next Mrs. Barney Stinson like his fake wife Betty.
It wasn’t that Barney set out to be an amazing cook (which he was); he just grew tired of living off peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwiches and gummy bears. Cutlets had a way of zooming in one homemade food. They had some sort of freaky radar for homemade food, for a place that actually felt like a home. Barney had once had to fight a cutlet off with a porn tape after he had accidentally left a package of breath mints on the counter. He didn’t know how she did it, but she had somehow entered into his life and down his pants.
---
“That wasn’t how you told me the story the first time,” Dr. Grossbard corrected, feeling a headache coming on.
“I found a better way to tell it this time,” Barney whined. “Okay?”
Grossbard decided not to mention the fact that Loretta had figured out that Betty and little “Tyler’ were fake. Not only that, she had approached Grossbard on what to do with Barney’s “fake family”. “Wait for Barney to come to grips with why he needs to lie to you,” he had said.
“I know,” Loretta had said, “But he borrows babies and last time, it was a bag of flour and a Chucky mask.”
Grossbard removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily, remembering what he had told Loretta, to just work with the delusions in the world Barney had built for himself. Years later, Grossbard had to admit, that Barney was a most trying patient. “Of course. It does sound much better now.”
The frown that was starting on Barney’s face turned into a slight smile. “Heh, told you so.”
---
“Hey, mom,” Barney said, cradling the phone between his head and shoulder. “Betty’s not going to make it tonight.”
“Awww,” his mom’s voice came over the receiver, “Will little Tyler come over?”
Barney shifted the phone as he tried to think of a good excuse. His bare toes drummed against the tile as he resisted the urge to scratch his balls. He had already scrubbed down in preparation for naked cooking and didn’t want to clean down again. “Tyler has chicken pox.”
He forgot that Tyler had a bout of chicken pox last month.
“Awww, that’s too bad.” He didn’t realize at the time that Loretta didn’t sound all that disappointed. “James is already here. Say hi, James.”
There was a pause as the phone was passed over. Barney used the brief gap to check the recipe again. “Hi James,” James said.
They both cracked up. “Hey yourself,” Barney said. “What up?”
“Got a new suit. Legendary. You?”
“Got a new haircut,” he said. “One second. I’ve got to turn on the mixer.”
As soon as he was finished, James asked, “So, didn’t you get a new haircut last week?”
“It went out of fashion,” Barney said sourly, preparing the cake pans for the batter. “This one makes my cheekbones pop.”
“I thought I was supposed to be the gay one,” James teased. “How’s the cut?”
“My ears are cold,” he said automatically. Lily was right. It was short. Damn her. “How’s the suit?”
“Awesome as per use. Stop changing the subject.”
Barney grumbled and poured in the batter. “I wasn’t changing the subject.”
“Also, you better be wearing clothes while cooking mom’s cake. I know you have your weird ways, but do them on your own time. Wear jeans if you’re so worried about your suits.”
“But… but…” Barney whined.
“You have normal clothes, Barnaby,” James said patiently in his best big brother voice. “I’ve seen them while cleaning up your place of all those weird sex toys when you ask me.” His mom must have been out of the room. “Mom, tell Barney to put some pants on while cooking.”
There was another pause. “Oh my darling,” Loretta cooed in what she thought was her best British accent, “Please stop cooking naked. I told you that was just a game I do for fun. It’s not something you do a daily basis.”
“Mommy,” he whined automatically, hearing James chuckle in the background. “If I do that, I get a suit dirty.”
“Baby bear, I don’t want you to get your special parts burned,” she snapped in that shrill voice he had tried to block from his memories. That Loretta Stinson “You’re little racists” voice. “Put on some clothes this instant.”
“Yes mommy,” he said meekly. The voice won like always.
Loretta instantly cheered up. Obviously she had some vodka and orange juice mixers that were kicking in. Or he had pleased the shrillness. “Oh, Barney dear, this is just going to be a causal sit down this time, so you know what that means?”
“I wear the Calvin Klein?” he asked automatically, slipping into an apron. That counted as clothing, right?
He could sense the wince over the phone as well the impeding shrillness. Somehow his mom held the shrill back. “Not what I was talking about, dear boy.”
Barney’s mind was instantly boggled. “But what could you be talking about?” he whined. “The Calvin Klein is my casual stuff. Mommy, it costs several hundreds of dollars.’
The shrill monster never came. Something that Barney could have never ever predicted came instead. Loretta Stinson cracked up. “Barney, I meant casual clothes. Like jeans and a t-shirt.”
He nearly fainted. Which would have been a bad thing seeing that he needed to still put the pans in the oven and he would end up covered in cake batter. “Mommy, that’s not fair.”
“Life’s not fair, baby bear,” she said.
“Fine,” he huffed.
“Not that tone, Mister.”
“Yes, Mother.”
---
She had won. Loretta Stinson’s word was always law. Barney found himself in front of his dresser, pulling out clothing that was only meant for laser tag. Until they found a way to make a suit made for rolling head over heels in. That was the one drawback of suits. They couldn’t survive the rough and tumble that came with the game.
Barney grimaced at the jeans and the t-shirt. Granted they were so expensive that Ted would wear them ironically and call them hipster chic, but he looked so innocent in a boy next door sort of way. It irritated Barney that he didn’t have the dark good look of Sandy Rivers, even if that was a toupee. For one thing he was way too thin, even if years of gym going had finally given him lickable pecs and an ass that you could bounce quarters off of. His forehead was way too big and he had that guy who tragically fell into a taffy-pull machine look to him. The suit made him dangerous and unapproachable.
Out of the suit… it was way too easy.
---
“You really think that?”
Barney paused and thought about it. “Oh yes. After I finish writing The Playbook, maybe I’ll write a book about my theories. See boys next door are easy. But when you put the suit on.” He gestured at himself. “It doesn’t work well when I’m not wearing the suit, but you get the picture, doctor. It becomes a challenge. Like playing through The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time with Three Hearts. It’s for the hardcore. And I, like my porn, am hardcore.” He held his hand up for a high five.
“Have you forgotten why you’re here? I can always extend the period of your stay.”
“Robin… right…” he said, blinking in remembrance, “Oh yeah. Glad you reminded me, Doc.” He didn’t look too happy to be reminded.
---
His winter coat and scarf hid his hoodie and whimsical t-shirt away from view, but it didn’t quite hide his jeans or sneakers. Barney quickly padded down the street, cake holder and present balanced in his hand. Luckily, Ted wasn’t around to figure out that he wasn’t in a suit. Ted obviously would take that moment of weakness to point out that if Barney wasn’t in a suit 24/7, then why should he, Theodore Emily Mosby, do the same?
It was the principle of the thing, Barney reflected as he tried to hail a taxi without being seen by anyone who knew him closely. He had already been seen by Mary the Paralegal, who had told him that in casual clothes he has almost looked human. She had also dug his new haircut, but the looking less than godly thing was really bumming him out.
If Ted saw him like this, all suited down, he’d have a field day.
Barney had almost counted his blessings at not being seen by anyone he knew, again, when there she walked, fresh from a camera shoot, obviously, from the stage make up. Robin “Foreign Girl Walking” Scherbatsky herself. Barney tried to shuffle his legs behind a fire hydrant to hide his telltale jeans. “So,” she said, hips swaying from side to side like something out of an old Hollywood flick where the femme fatale walks into the detective’s office, “What brings you on this side of town.”
It’s not “Why not come over and stay awhile,” but it will do.
“I live here,” he deadpanned.
“I work near here,” she deadpanned back. “Didn’t know you could dress down.”
“It’s not a thing,” Barney squeaked, before clearing his throat and saying in his most manly of manliest voices, “It’s not a thing.”
Robin picked up on something, somehow. “Ahhh… so it is a thing. You’re wearing casual clothes to pick up a chick and make her think that you’re nice.”
Hugely relieved, Barney let out a laugh. “Ha, ha, ha. You got me. That’s totally what I’m doing.”
Grinning in satisfaction, Robin pointed at the cake box and wrapped present. “It’s kind of obvious.” She took a look at him. “You cut your hair, blondie.”
“I have a name,” he said, but still pleased that she noticed. “What do you think?”
He hoped that she wouldn’t say, “Don’t worry, it will grow out.”
Robin smiled. “I like it. Makes you look like a young Sting or a John Constantine.” She pronounced the name properly, as ConstanTINE rather than ConstanTEEN which pleased him greatly.
“You read Hellblazer?” And for a moment, he forgot the used q-tip comment about his hair. But then… “Hey, I have a name. It’s not blondie.”
“You never introduced yourself to me,” Robin pointed out, “You kinda sulked and stormed out. But I think I know a friend of yours.”
“Oh?” he pretended to act surprised.
“And you tapped me on the shoulder and went ‘Hi, have you met Ted?’” she asked. “And no, I hadn’t. He comes on a little strong.”
Barney rolled his eyes. “A little strong is putting it lightly.”
Robin exhaled in relief. “So, it’s not just me. Thank God. Who says… hmm hmmm hmmm… on their first date with someone.” She hummed the words instead of saying “I love you”.
Barney found it strangely cute and appealing. He told his inner Barney it was probably just an erection.
“Or skips on laser tag with their BFF,” Barney mumbled to himself.
“What?” Robin must have ears like a fox to peek up on a mumble like that.
Or he wasn’t as good at mumbling as he thought he was. “Nothing,” Barney said, realizing how inappropriate that sounded. He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to get going.”
“Wait,” she said. “What about your name?”
Barney blinked in surprise and felt a blush coming on. He didn’t expect that. “Wow. Oh wow. You really want to know. It’s Barney. Barney Stinson.”
“Like the character from the Flintstones,” she said. At least she didn’t come up with a Barney the Dinosaur thing that started up when the original VHS tapes starting going around when he was in middle school. “Did the kids ask if you were going to give back Fred’s Fruity Pebbles?”
“Only all the time,” he admitted. “But no. It’s short for Barnaby. My mom’s a huge fan of musicals.”
“I’m drawing a blank,” Robin said. “Didn’t watch a lot of musicals.”
“It’s from the musical Hello, Dolly!... I’m named after Barnaby Tucker.”
“How cute,” Robin cooed.
“It’s not cute,” Barney snapped back. “I rather be Barnabas. That’s honorable.”
“You’re not Greek.”
“I could be a little.” Barney argued. “That would be awesome.”
Robin giggled, highly amused. “Going by that logic, you could also be a little Canadian.”
Barney shuddered. It was an automatic response brought by the sheer thought of being part Canadian. “Oh Canada no… No!” This time Robin laughed. “Don’t even joke about that.” He glanced at his watch again. “Damn, I’ve really got to go.”
“That scheme, right,” Robin said. “Need help getting a cab?”
“I’m a New Yorker,” he stated.
“Yes,” she returned, “But I have boobs.”
One minute and two unbuttoned buttons later, Robin had found him a cab. “Well, I’ll be,” Barney said, dumbfounded.
“Like I said,” Robin stated, grin on her face. “I have boobs.”
“Yes you do,” slipped out of Barney’s mouth before he could stop himself.
“Thank you.”
He had expected to get slapped. Girls generally hated commented about the twins even when the twins were on display. It was a rather mixed message.
That was new.
Different even.
Barney would have to say he liked it. It was hard to explain just why, but he did. There was just something about Robin.
---
Grossbard paused in his note taking. “So, let me get this right. Even back then, you had feelings for Mrs. Scherbatsky?”
“If by feelings you mean special penis feelings than yes.”
With a slight shake of his head, the doctor continued. “No, what I mean you had a spark of something more than sexual attraction for Robin. You didn’t see a sexual partner. You saw someone who you could be with.”
“She knew John Constantine didn’t just come from some movie played by the guy from Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure,” Barney said, trying to get Mr. British Doctor to see that the feelings came later. “That was a feeling of respect.”
“Feelings are still feelings, Barney, regardless of what you think.”
Barney rolled his eyes. “I told you before. Robin’s magic ladybits gave me feelings.”
“Magic ladybits? Barney, is that anything like your healing cock scam?”
“No, that’s My Penis Grants Wishes. Don’t you read my blog?”
“I try not to, but it might help with your treatment.” Doctor Grossbard’s pencil went back to the notepad. “Greatly help. Now, go on?”
“Of course.”
---
Loretta opened the door. She wasn’t wearing her wig for once since her red-blond was finally long enough to pass her shoulders once more. Years of smoking had caught up with her in a nasty bought of lung cancer that cost her a lobe of her lung. Still, despite the slight glossiness to one of her blue eyes and her still fragile frame, she was able to give Barney a hug.
For a moment, Barney remembered what it was like to be happy. Not just the half-truth that was merely okay, but truly happy. And it didn’t matter that he wasn’t in a suit or he had to lie to make her happy. He was with his mom and that was what matter. “I made your cake just the way you like it.”
“That’s wonderful, Barney,” Loretta proclaimed and took the cake holder from him, peering inside. “Black forest cake. How thoughtful. I don’t know why you don’t open a restaurant of your own.”
“It doesn’t pay as much,” he wanted to say, but he knew he’d get smacked for his lip. “Awww, mommy,” he “whined” softly, “I’m not good for pro-level.”
“Oh come on,” she said, “You have the talent for it. You were the best barista at the coffee house. And there was the job you had at that teppanyaki place. You were one of the best Hibachi chefs at Shinjitsu. You have the special do-anything talent that can take you anywhere.”
“Really-really?” Barney squeaked. When she said it that way, he felt like he could almost believe it. Almost. “You really think so?”
“I really do,” Loretta said sweetly. “I worry about what you do for a living. Corporate Espionage is going to get you killed. I don’t care if you’re one of the youngest billionaires in the world.”
---
“That of course, doesn’t leave the office,” Barney said.
“I’m bound by doctor-patient confidentiality.”
“Because if you did, I won’t be your best friend or get you a good suit.”
“I’m bound by doc-“
“You have to pinky swear that details of my job will not leave this room!” Barney suddenly blurted out.
Grossbard decided not argue a third time. “Fine, I pinkie promise.”
Barney ambled out of the chair and wrapped his pinkie around Grossbard’s. The look on his face was quite comically serious. “Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye. Repeat.” It was utterly childish and utterly Barney Stinson.
He went along with it to humor a patient. “Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.” He paused. “Do I have to say repeat?”
“No.” Barney unhooked his pinky finger. “It would have been funny if you had. You doctors are so by the book.”
Grossbard decided to not tell him that was not what by the book meant. It was refreshing that for once Barney wasn’t being so stubborn. But at the same time, Barney was taking the long route. Still, this was valuable information and would be a shame to let it go to waste. In the past hour, he had manage to gain more about Barney than he had since their first session in 1999 when Barney had still had a candy floss goatee and ponytail.
Only a fool would try to steer the conversation back to the present. “So, what happened after that?”
---
“But, mommy…”
“I just want you to be happy.” Loretta paused. “Barney… are you happy? With your wife? It just seems like you ran into marriage just for my sake.”
“Mommy…”
“There’s nothing wrong with divorce, baby. Are you happy or do you enjoy making me happy?”
Barney paused, shuffling Loretta’s present from hand to hand. “Do we have to discuss this outside, mommy?”
Loretta shook her head. “Of course not. Come on inside, put up your coat. Stay a while.”
The instant they were inside, Loretta walked in the kitchen to put the cake up. Barney could hear the oohs and aahs from James and Loretta’s friends. He didn’t hear Rhonda’s voice among them. He would have liked to hear how the woman he first nailed was doing. It was great from them both after all.
Maybe he was so great, that she had become a nun, he thought as he added his present to the pile.
---
But was it… really?
---
1998
“I c-changed my mind,” he whimpered as Rhonda’s cigarette-breath still lingered his mouth.
Her tongue had probed the depths of his mouth and he didn’t feel more like a man, he felt less. He couldn’t see past the tangles of his hair, somehow she had loosed his hair from his ponytail and like a Shetland pony he was effectively blind.
Rhonda was going for other waters. Namely the button and zipper of his jeans. His whimper of fear must have been mistaken for a whimper of delight, because Rhonda husked, “Yeah, me too Barry.”
“Barney,” he rasped out. It wasn’t the first time, she had gotten a name wrong. She called his mom Patty and his brother Joshua. “My name is Barney.”
She didn’t pay any attention to him, well, not to his face. His pant were unceremoniously unbuttoned and unzipped, her awful tongue, licking his traitorous dick proudly stiff. “My, my, my…” he heard her say, “You Stinson boys are well hung. Let’s see what you can offer.”
“No… I changed my mind. I don’t wanna. I don’t wanna.”
The next thing he knew there was a condom on his wilted penis and Rhonda was rubbing his arm. “Hey, kiddo… Barry… lots of guys get cold feet…”
Barney sniffed, snot trickling into his long hair. “I’m not lots of guys.”
“Barry…” Rhonda paused as if trying to thinking of what to say. “You’ve got a big dick and one day you may use it well… it was your first time…”
“W-we-wuh-well….what are you saying?” Barney stumbled over his words, trying to make sense of it.
Rhonda gave him a cigarette-stained smile. “I’m saying you’re the best I ever had, Barry."
---
Barney lingered in the living room, coat still on. As long as he still had it, that still meant some suited up, right? As long as he was suited up, he could face the world and all of its unknowns.
That was… until Loretta came back in.
“Oh, Barney, I thought I told you to take that coat off. You must be frying.”
“I like my coat,” he said.
“Barney,” came a hint of the shrill.
He handed the coat and scarf over to her. Barney the awesome was gone. In his place was Barney the screw up, like he had never left. “Okay, mom. I suited down.”
Loretta hugged him. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He felt her stroke the back of his neck gently. “Your haircut is so becoming on you. I like it better than the one you had last week.”
Barney did a double take. “What was wrong with my haircut?”
“Well, to be honest, it looked like a sheep’s ass.”
“A cute sheep’s ass?” Barney asked.
“No, dear, just a sheep’s ass.”
Somehow even from there, he could feel Robin’s gloating. “Hey, mom… before I forget, did you send out my letter to Uncle Jerry?”
Loretta froze like a deer in the headlights. “I did.”
“And?”
“He’s not going to make it,” Loretta said, a bit stiffly. Barney figured she was holding back the tears. “I’m sorry, but he just can’t.”
He decided to reassure her. “It’s okay, mom. If Bob Barker couldn’t come, that would be sad. And we know he can’t come because he’s hosting the price is right. But Uncle Jerry is probably still mad at me for the Blue Whale thing. Besides… he’s just my Uncle, so it’s not a big deal. Really. So smile, mom. It’s your birthday.”
---
Thud, thud, thud.
Doctor Grossbard had stopped taking notes, had removed his glasses and was now pounding his forehead against the desk.
Thud, thud, thud.
“Hey, doctor?” Barney asked, leaning forward of concern. “Why are you doing that?”
Thud, thud, thud.
“If you keep doing that, you’ll get so many splinters in your forehead, you’ll be reclassified as furniture by federal law and you’ll have to buff that thing with lemon Pledge.”
Grossbard stopped in mid-thud. “Why don’t you take a quick cigarette break?” he suggested. “Let off some steam.”
The younger man’s eyes and face lit up. “Sweet. Lighter too?”
As soon as he had both, Barney scampered out of the room. Grossbard rubbed his head feeling a headache come on. It was a combination that was -partly from pounding his head against the desk, but mostly from frustration. “Damnit, Loretta… what’s so wrong with telling Barney that Jerome Whittaker is his father?”
… to be continued.
Author: lilithisbitter
Rating: R (Darkfic, Sex, and Barney's mental issues)
Spoilers: Pilot through Legendaddy
Word Count: 5000+ (This Part)
Summary: Like a coin, every story has two sides. This is the side of the Rough Patch that Ted Mosby never saw. Barney Stinson's side. He only thought he was saving Robin Scherbatsky from discovering the monster he really was. He had no idea of the mess he would leave in his wake.
Previous Chapters:
Act O: The One That You Put On a Pedestal
Act I: And I Just Can’t Contain This Feeling That Remains
Author's Notes: Wait... don't run. While this fic does cover The Rough Patch among other episodes, Barney Stinson does not become morbidly obese. It instead asks the logical question... what if Barney Stinson was really wearing a fat suit the whole time? I played around with this concept in my head for over a year until recently. Somebody on our LJ group watched The Rough Patch and it inspired me to finally start writing this. So, thank you. Thank you everyone for inspiring me.
Act II: Dynamite With a Laser Beam
2009
“Barney… you lied to me.” Why did Robin have to look at him with those eyes.
“I… I’m sorry.” The words fell off his tongue like clay, clumsy and so unlike him. “I wish I could take it back.” The shower pounded at his back as he stood in front of her.
She could see the lie for herself, the pieces of that damnable fat suit scattered around the bathroom, so he could stride out into the world, to show everyone how breaking up was the best decision that either of them could have made. Because it was wrong. Ir was utterly wrong. In this world… nobody had faith in them and that was why it had to end. Fade into dust, so to speak.
And then a voice at the back corner of his mind piped up like the traitor it was and asked “Was it really? It was just a rough patch.”
“Is that all you can say? I’m sorry?”
Robin’s glare was a lesser version of Lily’s “Your dead to me look.” He shrank under it all the same. If he had to come with a name for it, he would called it her, “You’re nothing at all to me look.” Barney’s perfectly sculptured chest and flat stomach with his wasp-like waist gleamed with water, perfectly wrong and the truth under the layers of fat. “I can explain. I…”
Robin only shook her head and gestured at the fat suit. “I came up here, ready to give us a second chance and here I find out you’ve been lying all this time?” She waved her hand at Barney. “You lying son of a bitch. I came back, because I didn’t fall in love with you for your looks. Heck, I would have unhooked you from a bra. That’s love, bitch.”
Barney’s lip quivered. “Wait… you… you… you... oh… love me… really-really? It’s not like with Ted? Not you’re not humoring me?”
She sighed and looked older and sicker than she had before. “Barney… why?”
Pointing at her, Barney said, “Because you were killing yourself for me. You’re not healthy, Robin. I want my Robin, not some dredged up corpse.” As soon as he said it, he wanted to take it back.
“So now we know why that girl tried to kill you with a brick!” she snapped.
“Take it back,” he begged. “Please. We broke up on good terms. As the fat man and old lady. We get pretty and we heal.”
Robin shook her head in disgust. “I am pretty,” she said, shaking her freshly washed hair. He could see that she had put on make up, put concealer on the circles under her blue eyes and treated that bit of acne. “I’m always pretty, Barnaby.” He winced when she called him that. It sounded way too stiff and formal. “You’re pretty too. It’s just your insides are ugly.”
And that hurt worst of all.
“Robin… please…” His voice cracked.
“I understand,” she whispered. “Well, you can have your perfect lie. Put on your best suit and meet me at MacLaren’s. You’ll get over me. Everyone always does.”
“I don’t think I can,” he whispered.
“Damnit, Barney,” Robin said. “Don’t make this so hard. This is your easy out. Take it.”
“How?” he asked hollowly. She should have never come here, never caught him in a lie. “It’s not like I have a playbook for these things.”
“Then write one,” she said. “If that’s how you get over me, do that. Be heartless again. Heck, this whole fat suit thing was pretty heartless.”
“I-I-I didn’t mean it!”
“Well… what did it mean?!” Robin screamed. “Because it had meaning to me.”
“I…”
---
“You didn’t let that woman get to you… did you?” Dr. Grossbard asked, leaning forward in curiosity.
Barney scoffed. Did the damned British man always have to pursue everything to its inevitable conclusion? “Course not. I’m totally untouchable.”
---
2005
“I cannot stand that woman,” Barney groused as his hairdresser fussed with his hair. Already half of his hair was up in foils, slathered in chemicals. “Seriously… what’s Ted chopping his balls off for?”
“She’s pretty,” Lily said from the opposite chair, beauty magazine already at ready. She flipped it down and gave Barney’s hair an appraising look. “Why the new look, Doll Face? I know I don’t ordinarily call you Doll Face, but if you go that blond and that short, you might as well be Doll Face.”
“Don’t make a habit of it,” Barney ordered.
Lily rolled her eyes and almost put her headphones back on. “Kinda sad how much Ted is going gaga over Miss Canada.” She paused and added, “Doll Face.” She giggled when Barney whined out of irritation. “I’ll stop when you stop reacting.” Another pause. “Man, it’s getting old already. I’ll shelve it for later.”
Barney glowered. “She has poor taste in hair. Clearly if she went gaga for Ted’s overly gelled quaff instead of yours truly beautiful do.”
“Screw her!” Lily automatically chirped, “Your hair made you look cute. At least keep it that length. I like the curls.” She didn’t take it back. Barney knew that Lily had a hidden lesbian side and she probably did want to literally screw Robin.
Not that he blamed her. Dark hair, blue eyes, legs up to there… legs that would look amazing wrapped around his waist as her nails racked down his back. Glancing in the mirror at his half-done up hair, Barney looked back at Lily. “Cute? No way, Red. I’m many things…. glorious things. Well endowed in more ways than one. I’m not cute. I’m definitely going for a new look.”
“I think the peroxide is seeping into your brain,” Lily ideally commented. “She is cute though. Way out of Ted’s league.” She flipped through her magazine some more. “Way out of your league too, Barney. She’s too good for you.”
“Hrmph,” Barney said. “Nobody is too good for me. Wouldn’t you say so, Claudette? You’d do me?” He looked up at his hairdresser and fluttered his eyelashes to their best advantage.
“Not for a million dollars,” Claudette said. “You’ve got girly eyelashes and I’m old enough to be your grandmother. Now stop squirming before you get chemicals in your eyes.”
Lily giggled behind her magazine.
“Oh shut up,” he said. “You’re not as funny as you think you are, Red.”
---
That night was his mother’s birthday. He really wasn’t in the mood of parading around his fake family again; he called in the process of making a cake. It was one of the few times his kitchen actually had food ingredients in it. Every time Barney baked it was a risky move. Girls drawn by the smell of good cooking always lingered around the door, wanting to become the next Mrs. Barney Stinson like his fake wife Betty.
It wasn’t that Barney set out to be an amazing cook (which he was); he just grew tired of living off peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwiches and gummy bears. Cutlets had a way of zooming in one homemade food. They had some sort of freaky radar for homemade food, for a place that actually felt like a home. Barney had once had to fight a cutlet off with a porn tape after he had accidentally left a package of breath mints on the counter. He didn’t know how she did it, but she had somehow entered into his life and down his pants.
---
“That wasn’t how you told me the story the first time,” Dr. Grossbard corrected, feeling a headache coming on.
“I found a better way to tell it this time,” Barney whined. “Okay?”
Grossbard decided not to mention the fact that Loretta had figured out that Betty and little “Tyler’ were fake. Not only that, she had approached Grossbard on what to do with Barney’s “fake family”. “Wait for Barney to come to grips with why he needs to lie to you,” he had said.
“I know,” Loretta had said, “But he borrows babies and last time, it was a bag of flour and a Chucky mask.”
Grossbard removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily, remembering what he had told Loretta, to just work with the delusions in the world Barney had built for himself. Years later, Grossbard had to admit, that Barney was a most trying patient. “Of course. It does sound much better now.”
The frown that was starting on Barney’s face turned into a slight smile. “Heh, told you so.”
---
“Hey, mom,” Barney said, cradling the phone between his head and shoulder. “Betty’s not going to make it tonight.”
“Awww,” his mom’s voice came over the receiver, “Will little Tyler come over?”
Barney shifted the phone as he tried to think of a good excuse. His bare toes drummed against the tile as he resisted the urge to scratch his balls. He had already scrubbed down in preparation for naked cooking and didn’t want to clean down again. “Tyler has chicken pox.”
He forgot that Tyler had a bout of chicken pox last month.
“Awww, that’s too bad.” He didn’t realize at the time that Loretta didn’t sound all that disappointed. “James is already here. Say hi, James.”
There was a pause as the phone was passed over. Barney used the brief gap to check the recipe again. “Hi James,” James said.
They both cracked up. “Hey yourself,” Barney said. “What up?”
“Got a new suit. Legendary. You?”
“Got a new haircut,” he said. “One second. I’ve got to turn on the mixer.”
As soon as he was finished, James asked, “So, didn’t you get a new haircut last week?”
“It went out of fashion,” Barney said sourly, preparing the cake pans for the batter. “This one makes my cheekbones pop.”
“I thought I was supposed to be the gay one,” James teased. “How’s the cut?”
“My ears are cold,” he said automatically. Lily was right. It was short. Damn her. “How’s the suit?”
“Awesome as per use. Stop changing the subject.”
Barney grumbled and poured in the batter. “I wasn’t changing the subject.”
“Also, you better be wearing clothes while cooking mom’s cake. I know you have your weird ways, but do them on your own time. Wear jeans if you’re so worried about your suits.”
“But… but…” Barney whined.
“You have normal clothes, Barnaby,” James said patiently in his best big brother voice. “I’ve seen them while cleaning up your place of all those weird sex toys when you ask me.” His mom must have been out of the room. “Mom, tell Barney to put some pants on while cooking.”
There was another pause. “Oh my darling,” Loretta cooed in what she thought was her best British accent, “Please stop cooking naked. I told you that was just a game I do for fun. It’s not something you do a daily basis.”
“Mommy,” he whined automatically, hearing James chuckle in the background. “If I do that, I get a suit dirty.”
“Baby bear, I don’t want you to get your special parts burned,” she snapped in that shrill voice he had tried to block from his memories. That Loretta Stinson “You’re little racists” voice. “Put on some clothes this instant.”
“Yes mommy,” he said meekly. The voice won like always.
Loretta instantly cheered up. Obviously she had some vodka and orange juice mixers that were kicking in. Or he had pleased the shrillness. “Oh, Barney dear, this is just going to be a causal sit down this time, so you know what that means?”
“I wear the Calvin Klein?” he asked automatically, slipping into an apron. That counted as clothing, right?
He could sense the wince over the phone as well the impeding shrillness. Somehow his mom held the shrill back. “Not what I was talking about, dear boy.”
Barney’s mind was instantly boggled. “But what could you be talking about?” he whined. “The Calvin Klein is my casual stuff. Mommy, it costs several hundreds of dollars.’
The shrill monster never came. Something that Barney could have never ever predicted came instead. Loretta Stinson cracked up. “Barney, I meant casual clothes. Like jeans and a t-shirt.”
He nearly fainted. Which would have been a bad thing seeing that he needed to still put the pans in the oven and he would end up covered in cake batter. “Mommy, that’s not fair.”
“Life’s not fair, baby bear,” she said.
“Fine,” he huffed.
“Not that tone, Mister.”
“Yes, Mother.”
---
She had won. Loretta Stinson’s word was always law. Barney found himself in front of his dresser, pulling out clothing that was only meant for laser tag. Until they found a way to make a suit made for rolling head over heels in. That was the one drawback of suits. They couldn’t survive the rough and tumble that came with the game.
Barney grimaced at the jeans and the t-shirt. Granted they were so expensive that Ted would wear them ironically and call them hipster chic, but he looked so innocent in a boy next door sort of way. It irritated Barney that he didn’t have the dark good look of Sandy Rivers, even if that was a toupee. For one thing he was way too thin, even if years of gym going had finally given him lickable pecs and an ass that you could bounce quarters off of. His forehead was way too big and he had that guy who tragically fell into a taffy-pull machine look to him. The suit made him dangerous and unapproachable.
Out of the suit… it was way too easy.
---
“You really think that?”
Barney paused and thought about it. “Oh yes. After I finish writing The Playbook, maybe I’ll write a book about my theories. See boys next door are easy. But when you put the suit on.” He gestured at himself. “It doesn’t work well when I’m not wearing the suit, but you get the picture, doctor. It becomes a challenge. Like playing through The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time with Three Hearts. It’s for the hardcore. And I, like my porn, am hardcore.” He held his hand up for a high five.
“Have you forgotten why you’re here? I can always extend the period of your stay.”
“Robin… right…” he said, blinking in remembrance, “Oh yeah. Glad you reminded me, Doc.” He didn’t look too happy to be reminded.
---
His winter coat and scarf hid his hoodie and whimsical t-shirt away from view, but it didn’t quite hide his jeans or sneakers. Barney quickly padded down the street, cake holder and present balanced in his hand. Luckily, Ted wasn’t around to figure out that he wasn’t in a suit. Ted obviously would take that moment of weakness to point out that if Barney wasn’t in a suit 24/7, then why should he, Theodore Emily Mosby, do the same?
It was the principle of the thing, Barney reflected as he tried to hail a taxi without being seen by anyone who knew him closely. He had already been seen by Mary the Paralegal, who had told him that in casual clothes he has almost looked human. She had also dug his new haircut, but the looking less than godly thing was really bumming him out.
If Ted saw him like this, all suited down, he’d have a field day.
Barney had almost counted his blessings at not being seen by anyone he knew, again, when there she walked, fresh from a camera shoot, obviously, from the stage make up. Robin “Foreign Girl Walking” Scherbatsky herself. Barney tried to shuffle his legs behind a fire hydrant to hide his telltale jeans. “So,” she said, hips swaying from side to side like something out of an old Hollywood flick where the femme fatale walks into the detective’s office, “What brings you on this side of town.”
It’s not “Why not come over and stay awhile,” but it will do.
“I live here,” he deadpanned.
“I work near here,” she deadpanned back. “Didn’t know you could dress down.”
“It’s not a thing,” Barney squeaked, before clearing his throat and saying in his most manly of manliest voices, “It’s not a thing.”
Robin picked up on something, somehow. “Ahhh… so it is a thing. You’re wearing casual clothes to pick up a chick and make her think that you’re nice.”
Hugely relieved, Barney let out a laugh. “Ha, ha, ha. You got me. That’s totally what I’m doing.”
Grinning in satisfaction, Robin pointed at the cake box and wrapped present. “It’s kind of obvious.” She took a look at him. “You cut your hair, blondie.”
“I have a name,” he said, but still pleased that she noticed. “What do you think?”
He hoped that she wouldn’t say, “Don’t worry, it will grow out.”
Robin smiled. “I like it. Makes you look like a young Sting or a John Constantine.” She pronounced the name properly, as ConstanTINE rather than ConstanTEEN which pleased him greatly.
“You read Hellblazer?” And for a moment, he forgot the used q-tip comment about his hair. But then… “Hey, I have a name. It’s not blondie.”
“You never introduced yourself to me,” Robin pointed out, “You kinda sulked and stormed out. But I think I know a friend of yours.”
“Oh?” he pretended to act surprised.
“And you tapped me on the shoulder and went ‘Hi, have you met Ted?’” she asked. “And no, I hadn’t. He comes on a little strong.”
Barney rolled his eyes. “A little strong is putting it lightly.”
Robin exhaled in relief. “So, it’s not just me. Thank God. Who says… hmm hmmm hmmm… on their first date with someone.” She hummed the words instead of saying “I love you”.
Barney found it strangely cute and appealing. He told his inner Barney it was probably just an erection.
“Or skips on laser tag with their BFF,” Barney mumbled to himself.
“What?” Robin must have ears like a fox to peek up on a mumble like that.
Or he wasn’t as good at mumbling as he thought he was. “Nothing,” Barney said, realizing how inappropriate that sounded. He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to get going.”
“Wait,” she said. “What about your name?”
Barney blinked in surprise and felt a blush coming on. He didn’t expect that. “Wow. Oh wow. You really want to know. It’s Barney. Barney Stinson.”
“Like the character from the Flintstones,” she said. At least she didn’t come up with a Barney the Dinosaur thing that started up when the original VHS tapes starting going around when he was in middle school. “Did the kids ask if you were going to give back Fred’s Fruity Pebbles?”
“Only all the time,” he admitted. “But no. It’s short for Barnaby. My mom’s a huge fan of musicals.”
“I’m drawing a blank,” Robin said. “Didn’t watch a lot of musicals.”
“It’s from the musical Hello, Dolly!... I’m named after Barnaby Tucker.”
“How cute,” Robin cooed.
“It’s not cute,” Barney snapped back. “I rather be Barnabas. That’s honorable.”
“You’re not Greek.”
“I could be a little.” Barney argued. “That would be awesome.”
Robin giggled, highly amused. “Going by that logic, you could also be a little Canadian.”
Barney shuddered. It was an automatic response brought by the sheer thought of being part Canadian. “Oh Canada no… No!” This time Robin laughed. “Don’t even joke about that.” He glanced at his watch again. “Damn, I’ve really got to go.”
“That scheme, right,” Robin said. “Need help getting a cab?”
“I’m a New Yorker,” he stated.
“Yes,” she returned, “But I have boobs.”
One minute and two unbuttoned buttons later, Robin had found him a cab. “Well, I’ll be,” Barney said, dumbfounded.
“Like I said,” Robin stated, grin on her face. “I have boobs.”
“Yes you do,” slipped out of Barney’s mouth before he could stop himself.
“Thank you.”
He had expected to get slapped. Girls generally hated commented about the twins even when the twins were on display. It was a rather mixed message.
That was new.
Different even.
Barney would have to say he liked it. It was hard to explain just why, but he did. There was just something about Robin.
---
Grossbard paused in his note taking. “So, let me get this right. Even back then, you had feelings for Mrs. Scherbatsky?”
“If by feelings you mean special penis feelings than yes.”
With a slight shake of his head, the doctor continued. “No, what I mean you had a spark of something more than sexual attraction for Robin. You didn’t see a sexual partner. You saw someone who you could be with.”
“She knew John Constantine didn’t just come from some movie played by the guy from Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure,” Barney said, trying to get Mr. British Doctor to see that the feelings came later. “That was a feeling of respect.”
“Feelings are still feelings, Barney, regardless of what you think.”
Barney rolled his eyes. “I told you before. Robin’s magic ladybits gave me feelings.”
“Magic ladybits? Barney, is that anything like your healing cock scam?”
“No, that’s My Penis Grants Wishes. Don’t you read my blog?”
“I try not to, but it might help with your treatment.” Doctor Grossbard’s pencil went back to the notepad. “Greatly help. Now, go on?”
“Of course.”
---
Loretta opened the door. She wasn’t wearing her wig for once since her red-blond was finally long enough to pass her shoulders once more. Years of smoking had caught up with her in a nasty bought of lung cancer that cost her a lobe of her lung. Still, despite the slight glossiness to one of her blue eyes and her still fragile frame, she was able to give Barney a hug.
For a moment, Barney remembered what it was like to be happy. Not just the half-truth that was merely okay, but truly happy. And it didn’t matter that he wasn’t in a suit or he had to lie to make her happy. He was with his mom and that was what matter. “I made your cake just the way you like it.”
“That’s wonderful, Barney,” Loretta proclaimed and took the cake holder from him, peering inside. “Black forest cake. How thoughtful. I don’t know why you don’t open a restaurant of your own.”
“It doesn’t pay as much,” he wanted to say, but he knew he’d get smacked for his lip. “Awww, mommy,” he “whined” softly, “I’m not good for pro-level.”
“Oh come on,” she said, “You have the talent for it. You were the best barista at the coffee house. And there was the job you had at that teppanyaki place. You were one of the best Hibachi chefs at Shinjitsu. You have the special do-anything talent that can take you anywhere.”
“Really-really?” Barney squeaked. When she said it that way, he felt like he could almost believe it. Almost. “You really think so?”
“I really do,” Loretta said sweetly. “I worry about what you do for a living. Corporate Espionage is going to get you killed. I don’t care if you’re one of the youngest billionaires in the world.”
---
“That of course, doesn’t leave the office,” Barney said.
“I’m bound by doctor-patient confidentiality.”
“Because if you did, I won’t be your best friend or get you a good suit.”
“I’m bound by doc-“
“You have to pinky swear that details of my job will not leave this room!” Barney suddenly blurted out.
Grossbard decided not argue a third time. “Fine, I pinkie promise.”
Barney ambled out of the chair and wrapped his pinkie around Grossbard’s. The look on his face was quite comically serious. “Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye. Repeat.” It was utterly childish and utterly Barney Stinson.
He went along with it to humor a patient. “Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.” He paused. “Do I have to say repeat?”
“No.” Barney unhooked his pinky finger. “It would have been funny if you had. You doctors are so by the book.”
Grossbard decided to not tell him that was not what by the book meant. It was refreshing that for once Barney wasn’t being so stubborn. But at the same time, Barney was taking the long route. Still, this was valuable information and would be a shame to let it go to waste. In the past hour, he had manage to gain more about Barney than he had since their first session in 1999 when Barney had still had a candy floss goatee and ponytail.
Only a fool would try to steer the conversation back to the present. “So, what happened after that?”
---
“But, mommy…”
“I just want you to be happy.” Loretta paused. “Barney… are you happy? With your wife? It just seems like you ran into marriage just for my sake.”
“Mommy…”
“There’s nothing wrong with divorce, baby. Are you happy or do you enjoy making me happy?”
Barney paused, shuffling Loretta’s present from hand to hand. “Do we have to discuss this outside, mommy?”
Loretta shook her head. “Of course not. Come on inside, put up your coat. Stay a while.”
The instant they were inside, Loretta walked in the kitchen to put the cake up. Barney could hear the oohs and aahs from James and Loretta’s friends. He didn’t hear Rhonda’s voice among them. He would have liked to hear how the woman he first nailed was doing. It was great from them both after all.
Maybe he was so great, that she had become a nun, he thought as he added his present to the pile.
---
But was it… really?
---
1998
“I c-changed my mind,” he whimpered as Rhonda’s cigarette-breath still lingered his mouth.
Her tongue had probed the depths of his mouth and he didn’t feel more like a man, he felt less. He couldn’t see past the tangles of his hair, somehow she had loosed his hair from his ponytail and like a Shetland pony he was effectively blind.
Rhonda was going for other waters. Namely the button and zipper of his jeans. His whimper of fear must have been mistaken for a whimper of delight, because Rhonda husked, “Yeah, me too Barry.”
“Barney,” he rasped out. It wasn’t the first time, she had gotten a name wrong. She called his mom Patty and his brother Joshua. “My name is Barney.”
She didn’t pay any attention to him, well, not to his face. His pant were unceremoniously unbuttoned and unzipped, her awful tongue, licking his traitorous dick proudly stiff. “My, my, my…” he heard her say, “You Stinson boys are well hung. Let’s see what you can offer.”
“No… I changed my mind. I don’t wanna. I don’t wanna.”
The next thing he knew there was a condom on his wilted penis and Rhonda was rubbing his arm. “Hey, kiddo… Barry… lots of guys get cold feet…”
Barney sniffed, snot trickling into his long hair. “I’m not lots of guys.”
“Barry…” Rhonda paused as if trying to thinking of what to say. “You’ve got a big dick and one day you may use it well… it was your first time…”
“W-we-wuh-well….what are you saying?” Barney stumbled over his words, trying to make sense of it.
Rhonda gave him a cigarette-stained smile. “I’m saying you’re the best I ever had, Barry."
---
Barney lingered in the living room, coat still on. As long as he still had it, that still meant some suited up, right? As long as he was suited up, he could face the world and all of its unknowns.
That was… until Loretta came back in.
“Oh, Barney, I thought I told you to take that coat off. You must be frying.”
“I like my coat,” he said.
“Barney,” came a hint of the shrill.
He handed the coat and scarf over to her. Barney the awesome was gone. In his place was Barney the screw up, like he had never left. “Okay, mom. I suited down.”
Loretta hugged him. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He felt her stroke the back of his neck gently. “Your haircut is so becoming on you. I like it better than the one you had last week.”
Barney did a double take. “What was wrong with my haircut?”
“Well, to be honest, it looked like a sheep’s ass.”
“A cute sheep’s ass?” Barney asked.
“No, dear, just a sheep’s ass.”
Somehow even from there, he could feel Robin’s gloating. “Hey, mom… before I forget, did you send out my letter to Uncle Jerry?”
Loretta froze like a deer in the headlights. “I did.”
“And?”
“He’s not going to make it,” Loretta said, a bit stiffly. Barney figured she was holding back the tears. “I’m sorry, but he just can’t.”
He decided to reassure her. “It’s okay, mom. If Bob Barker couldn’t come, that would be sad. And we know he can’t come because he’s hosting the price is right. But Uncle Jerry is probably still mad at me for the Blue Whale thing. Besides… he’s just my Uncle, so it’s not a big deal. Really. So smile, mom. It’s your birthday.”
---
Thud, thud, thud.
Doctor Grossbard had stopped taking notes, had removed his glasses and was now pounding his forehead against the desk.
Thud, thud, thud.
“Hey, doctor?” Barney asked, leaning forward of concern. “Why are you doing that?”
Thud, thud, thud.
“If you keep doing that, you’ll get so many splinters in your forehead, you’ll be reclassified as furniture by federal law and you’ll have to buff that thing with lemon Pledge.”
Grossbard stopped in mid-thud. “Why don’t you take a quick cigarette break?” he suggested. “Let off some steam.”
The younger man’s eyes and face lit up. “Sweet. Lighter too?”
As soon as he had both, Barney scampered out of the room. Grossbard rubbed his head feeling a headache come on. It was a combination that was -partly from pounding his head against the desk, but mostly from frustration. “Damnit, Loretta… what’s so wrong with telling Barney that Jerome Whittaker is his father?”
… to be continued.