Title: The Distraction Reaction (1/2)
Characters: The Gang, Barney/Robin
Word Count: 6,097
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine. sniff
Spoilers: Takes place three days after 4x02, "The Best Burger in New York." Spoilers up until then!
Summary: As far as defensive reactions went, The Distraction Reaction was, decidedly, the least effective. The equivalent to throwing the dog a bone when you had a sirloin steak in-hand, any idiot could have told her that it just wasn't going to work out.
Author's Notes: This was going to be a super-duper multi-chapter fic of epic proportions… Hopefully a two-parter will work out instead? Still pretty new at writing in the fandom and no beta, so any concrit would be most appreciated! Thanks for your time!

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THREE DAYS LATER

Lily was a ticking time bomb of secrets.

It was inevitable. Secrets were like bright shiny things to her. Bright shiny things that made everybody happy and that had to be shared.

The only thing holding her back from exploding in a big bomb of shiny secretness this time around was the fact that this particular secret might not make everybody quite as happy as was typical.

More likely than not, they'd all just find it freakishly disturbing.

So for three days she had done her best to keep her lips zipped and mind preoccupied with other shiny secrets she could share. Like Marshall's childhood dream to be a roller-skating waitress (he liked the skirts), Robin's mustache, Ted's irrational fear of drinking fountains, or the fact that Stella didn't like Star Wars. (If Lily was a time bomb, then Marshal was a trigger-happy poacher during baby seal season.)

Anything would be better than letting everyone know that Barney Stintson was in love.

Honest to God, goo-goo eyed, sweet nothings whispering, pathetically obsessive, love.

It would have been hilarious if it wasn't so terrifying. And if Lily, the understanding member of the group, found Barney's star-struck state scary, Ted would probably jump out of the nearest window.

Hence, she had done her best to keep her mouth shut, no easy task when she couldn't stain a shirt without immediately telling Marshall and asking for his input on the situation.

Barney clearly didn't appreciate what he was asking of her.

Currently, she was contemplating explaining to him how difficult he was making her existence through interpretive smacking as he sat across from her at McLaren's. How dare he sit there so casually, sipping his drink while she suffered silently a few feet away? It was unjust! And wrong! And somebody had better do someth-

Marshall took the seat next to her, totting with him their beers. "So Ted said he had something to tell us?"

Oh God! He could read her thoughts, couldn't he? She quickly stopped scowling at Barney and thought of the time she walked in on Robin shaving. ("I'm Canadian, okay? It's not my fault!")

"Well," Lily fumbled through her purse frantically and pulled out her cell phone. "The text says, 'OMG, need-" she held up two fingers "-2 talk. Get the gang 2gether ASAP. Total emergency.'"

Barney blinked. "Is the emergency that he turned into a fifteen year old girl?"

She glared. "Barney, try to be sensitive. He's obviously going through something here and needs his friends to support him." She sent him a significant eyebrow raise, hoping that he would catch her own need for support.

But he was Barney Stinson, so of course he didn't. "Yeah, right. He also needs his friends to inform him of his sex change, since he clearly hasn't caught on yet."

Lily allowed a begrudging nod.

Ted really was such a girl sometimes.

Marshall frowned next to her. "Hey, where's Robin? Isn't she part of 'the gang.'" He giggled and shifted happily in his seat.

Barney and Lily sent him confounded looks.

He giggled some more. "I always wanted to be a part of a gang."

At their less than understanding glances, Marshall coughed and straightened up in his seat, adopting a voice about two octaves bellow his giggles. "But where is she?"

Lily grinned. She loved it when Marshall pretended to be all manly.

Not that he wasn't manly. Most of the time. Or at least in bed, which was where she guessed it really mattered

… But that was neither her nor there.

Lily shrugged. "Said she had something to do for work."

Barney took a big swing from his drink and snorted dramatically. "Peh, Robin. Who cares about her anyway? We don't need Robin. She's not cool. Or awesome. Or bea-"

Lily kicked him under the table.

"Befuddled gods! I need another drink." Like a shot he was out of his seat and at the bar, only slightly frantic and with a charming new limp.

Lily eyed the display sadly. He really did have the love bug bad, didn't he?

Next to her, Marshall tilted his head and considered their friend with the inquisitive eye he got when he was making sense of things. "Have you noticed anything strange about Barney lately?"

"No!" She shouted instantly. "Nothing!" She sipped her beer and tried not to notice how a large portion of it sloshed onto the table. "So Stella doesn't like Star Wars?"

Marshall's eyes widened. "Dammit, Lily, I thought I evoked the forget-it-when-you-hear-it clause!" He crossed his arms and stared sternly at her. "And don't you think your violation of that bond made me forget the point of this little discussion." He rolled his eyes. "Like the Distraction Reaction is going to work on me."

"Stupid nervous tick," Lily muttered, trying not to pout.

As far as defensive reactions went, The Distraction Reaction was, decidedly, the least effective. The equivalent to throwing the dog a bone when you had a sirloin steak in-hand, any idiot could have told her that it just wasn't going to work out.

Why then couldn't she stop using the stupid thing?

"So," Marshall leaned forward onto the table and all but bounced in his seat – just like a dog about to get his steak. "What's up with Barney, huh?"

She felt her internal bomb tick closer to detonation.

Lily shifted uncomfortably and shot a nervous gaze around the room. "Forget-it-when-you-hear-it clause activated?"

Marshall nodded with such enthusiasm that she was surprised his neck didn't fall off. "Affirmative."

He was such a gossip.

She leaned forward, giving the room another look, and whispered, "Barney's in love with Robin."

And the bomb went boom.

Marshall jerked back from her and gasped, mouth hanging agape. "What-?!"

Just as Ted appeared in the bar and approached the table.

Lily gave another under-the-table kick and Marshall's mouth snapped closed as he turned to face his friend. "-is the problem, Ted?"

TWENTY MINUTES LATER

Barney couldn't believe the words that were flowing from Ted's mouth to his ears.

"She doesn't like Star Wars?"

It just didn't make any sense. Somewhere, a universe was imploding at the mere possibility of a person, anywhere, being unable to comprehend the brilliance of the most fantastic franchise to grace the galaxy. Ever.

Ted threw up his arms in equal astonishment. "I know, right?"

Barney shook his head sadly. "Man, I was going to mock you for your girly text messaging-"

"But I was panicked!" Ted slumped back into his seat at the head of the table, awash with despair. "I mean, finding out something like this-"

Barney patted his friend's shoulder in sympathy. "Absolutely, girly text-atude would happen to any man." Which was a lie, obviously. Girly texting as a symptom of one's soul being crushed? Please. But after a blow like this, a guy needed some understanding. Even if it was fake understanding. "Hey! Maybe this means that your balls haven't actually turned into ovaries!" Even Barney's benevolence could only go so far. "Yet."

Ted rolled his eyes and turned to the two sacks of lifelessness on the other side of the table. "Lily, Marshall?"

Lily perked up slightly. "Hm?"

"You guys don't look surprised."

"Shock," Marshall choked out.

Did Barney imagine the small mountain of a man sending him a horrified glance?

"Right, the shock! Still sinking in." Lily agreed quickly. "I mean, who doesn't want a light saber after watching that movie?"

Ted nodded, accepting the plausibility of such a reaction.

Seriously. Light sabers were awesome.

Barney's best friend cradled his head in his hands. "It's not even that she didn't like it that gets to me guys, it's that she lied. What made her feel that she couldn't tell me the truth?" He looked up at the table. "I could've have taken it."

"I couldn't have." Barney stared straight ahead in horror. "I would have cried, finding out the woman I was about to marry didn't love Han Solo." He turned to Ted. "If Han couldn't steal her heart, what chance could I have?"

Ted placed his head in his hands once more. "I know, I know!"

Suddenly there was a flurry of movement, he was gently nudged aside, and she (the only she that really mattered) was there.

"Sorry I'm late, guys," Robin said as she flopped down in what had been Barney's seat. "Ted, your text seemed… frenzied."

(Barney tried not to notice the way she smelled, or how her leg was brushing against his on the bench.)

Ted looked up at her helplessly. "I found out that Stella doesn't like Star Wars."

"Oh," she remarked blandly.

(She was wearing a red coat. It looked great on her. It would look great off her too. In fact, Robin might look best without clothes.)

Upon seeing the table's collective heartbroken face, she corrected herself. "I mean, ohhh!" She shook her head. "That's terrible, Ted. Really terrible."

Out of the corner of his eye Barney saw Lily and Robin exchange an eye roll before they returned their attention back to Ted.

(Her hair was wonderful, the way it moved when she turned her head. He remembered how soft it felt between his fingers, almost silky. Maybe he should touch it again, for a refresher and the sake of the science and all that good crap.)

He really was sick, wasn't he?

Robin gave her full attention to Ted. "What're you going to do?"

"Get another drink!" Barney declared as he stood up from the bench. He looked down to his still-filled glass and quickly downed the remaining liquid.

He had to get away from her. She was clearly doing something to him. Something… unnatural. "I am going to get another drink." He nodded at everyone's perplexed glances. Except for Marshall, who still seemed a little shell-shocked.

Star Wars. It was a powerful thing.

"Yep. That's what I'll do."

He headed to the bar.

"I'll come with you."

Blast! Why was she determined on making every moment of his life a shadow of its formerly awesome self? He ate, but he didn't taste the food. He slept, but only dreamt of her. He had sex, but it wasn't nearly as much fun as it was supposed to be. She had destroyed all things awesome in the life of Barnitude.

It was like she had neutered him.

He shuddered. Now there was a terrifying thought.

He really needed another drink.

"Oookay. Great. Super." He jerked his head toward the bar, trying to acknowledge and yet not look at Robin at the same time.

It was only sort of working out for him.

They made their way to the bar and ordered their respective drinks before lulling into what Barney hoped had the semblance of a comfortable silence.

He was so busy trying to be nonchalant, he almost jumped out of skin when she said something.

"So Barney, you know that job I was talking to you about?"

Conversation. He could do this, no problem. He talked with people – in at least five languages, eight if you took into account different dialects – all the time.

He dared to make eye contact and slouched against the bar in an oh-so-very cool fashion. "That one that I forced you through my sheer power of awesome to apply for?"

She blinked at him. "Sure, Barney. That one."

He nodded graciously, taking his just-supplied drink and sipping regally from it. "What about it?" He hoped the eyebrow action he was giving her wasn't overdoing it.

She took her own drink in hand and leaned closer to him.

Barney might have shivered a little bit, a decidedly less than awesome reaction. He was going to have to work on this proximity thing.

"Don't tell the guys, but I just had my first interview."

"You did?" Suddenly, the forced atmosphere of casualness faded at his genuine excitement.

Which, really, should have been a clear warning sign of the worst – genuine excitement only came about due to genuine interest, and Barney had spent the last three days doing nothing but trying to convince himself that there was nothing genuine about his… infatuation.

"That's fantastic! How did it go?"

He was utterly doomed.

Robin grinned at his enthusiasm. "Really well, I think." She shrugged. "Or at least I didn't spew word vomit at them or anything, so I figure we're off to a good start."

Barney returned to smile. "That's great."

"Thanks," she said, taking a sip of her drink before looking him in the eye. "And thanks for convincing me to apply."

Her eyes were like stars. Blue, shiny, sparkly stars.

Dear God. Now he was the fifteen year-old girl. Pretty soon he was going to be demanding unicorns and puppies.

Barney shook himself and slouched a little more determinedly against the bar. "Well, my powers of awesome might as well be used for the forces of good."

"Really though." Suddenly her hand was on his, and between her soft skin and her beautiful eyes, Barney had to make an effort to remember to breathe. "Even if I don't get the job, I'm glad I tried, and I wouldn't have if it weren't for you."

He forced oxygen into his lungs and managed to squeak out, "You're welcome."

If Robin noticed his return to puberty, she didn't mention it, although she did allow her fingers to linger longer than Barney would have liked. (Or not nearly long enough, depending upon which part of Barney you were asking.)

Robin gave her head a slight shake before patting Barney's hand and pushing away from him and the bar. "Right. Ted. Star Wars." She motioned back to the table. "Come on, we have to help him grow a pair again."

FOUR HOURS LATER

Robin fumbled with her keys at the door to her apartment, Lily hot on her heels for some reason she hadn't quite figured out yet. Every now and then, when the need for a female friend overwhelmed her and she couldn't stand the thought of men a second longer, Lily would follow Robin home from McLaren's. Usually there was an obvious reason for this small retreat – Victoria's Secret runway show, a world-wrestling tournament, a Wii marathon that had lasted six days too long. These were the typical indicators that were oddly missing this time around.

So, Robin assumed it had something to do with clothes, shoes or Canadian hockey, which Lily had discovered a passion for once she got over the missing teeth and started to focus on the chiseled perfection of muscle that these fine athletes presented.

Girl stuff.

"Men and Han Solo," Robin said as she opened the door to her apartment.

"I know!" Lily agreed, sitting on the couch. "He's not that great."

Robin took off her coat. "Well, maybe a little," she allowed.

Lily scoffed. "Young and hot Harrison Ford, of course he's a little great."

"But it's not like all women are in love with him." She hung her coat in her closet and made her way to the kitchen.

"No, definitely not. All men are in love with him, but pretend women are."

"Exactly." She brought out some glasses and rifled through the fridge, looking for semi-decent wine. "It's like, 'Hello! Stop projecting on me.'" She poured what was left of her red wine and went out sit on the couch with Lily.

Lily grabbed her glass with a grateful smile and shifted in her seat. "You know, speaking of men in love-"

Robin snapped her fingers in recognition. "It's the same with Indiana Jones, too. Maybe it's just a Harrison Ford thing." She was determined to get to the bottom of this inquiry – it was like a plague amongst men. They loved Harrison Ford. It either had to be a built-in genetic trait of the Y chromosome, or Harrison Ford was just that hot. Possibly both.

"Probably. Listen, Robin-"

"Wait! Captain Kirk." Theory foiled. "Dudes love Captain Kirk. I don't think William Shatner has that same appeal as Harrison though…"

"Robin!"

She stopped with her ponderings and finally glanced at Lily, who had to strained look of a woman on the edge – all fevered brows and excessive sweating.

It was actually incredibly disturbing.

"Yes, sweetie?" she asked as gently as possible, praying that Lily wasn't about to explode in some ticking time-bomb of Lily-ness.

"Barney loves you."

Boom.

With the sentence Lily's eyes grew to the size of saucers and she slapped her hands over her mouth.

Robin was off the couch in a heartbeat. "What?!"

Lily took her hands off of her mouth and a small, belated scream came out. "Ah!" To be fair, she recovered quickly. "Nothing! Nothing at all!" She laughed nervously and took a sip of wine before cocking her hip. "And girl, what are you talking about? Shatner had a body to die for back in the old days."

Robin just raised an insulted eyebrow at her. "The Distraction Reaction? Please."

"Stupid nervous tick!"

"Lily, Barney doesn't fall in love, except with himself after buying a new suit," she conceded.

"Robin, you should have seen him these past few months," Lily insisted, standing up as well. "He's been falling all over himself trying to hide it." She frowned. "And then trying to show it. And now trying to hide it again!"

Robin glared at her friend. "Lily, love isn't like hide-and-seek!" She gave her head an adamant shake. "And besides, Barney's still sleeping with half of the women in New York. He can't be hung up on me while having sex with a thousand what's-her-names on the side."

Lily raised a halting finger. "See, that's what you'd think with any normal person, right? But Barney's got the emotional maturity of a rabid chimpanzee and can't be expected to correlate love with fidelity."

Oh God. His mind did work like a primitive animal that had survived on its barbaric ways for millennia. He was a rabid chimpanzee. Which meant…

Barney Stinson was in love. Or at least thought he was, which was really the same thing, wasn't it? Figures, that out of all of the women Barney had slept with she was the one his subconscious decided to latch onto in a desperate attempt at actual feelings before his husk of a heart just gave up already.

Well… that was just tough for him, wasn't it?

Because Robin didn't love Barney back. He was a good friend, and they had a great time together, but that was all. So what if he'd been surprisingly sensitive and helpful in the past. So what if she couldn't think of any time she'd had more fun than when she was hanging out with him. So what if his reputation in the sack wasn't entirely based on myth.

And so what if she had been having a hard time not touching him lately, sitting next to him in crowded cabs and in too-small booths, keeping her leg pressed against his, letting her fingers rest on his longer than was strictly necessary.

Bit Robin wasn't fooling herself. None of that mattered because, at the end of the day, it was Barney Stinson they were talking about. Barney, who faked feelings all the time to get exactly what he wanted. Who had duped dozens (hundreds?) of hapless women throughout the years because they were too stupid to see past his crap. Barney, who thought that 'commitment' was buying a pillow for his guest for the night before throwing her out with it the next morning.

Barney wasn't in love – not really. She could buy that he had tricked himself into thinking he loved her, sure. But he would never reduce himself to the complicated, selfless and utterly pathetic love that was the real thing. It went against every article of self-preservation that had been ingrained into his personality.

Robin gave her head a final, definitive, shake. "No, you're wrong."

Lily looked at her desperately. "Robin-"

Robin held up a hand to stop her. "Lily, it just doesn't make sense. I can't believe that Barney could be in love with anybody, much less me." She let out a little laugh, accompanied by another head shake. "He can't be."

THREE MORE DAYS LATER

Marshall was in the middle of some intense meditation exercises – in the hopes that it would keep him from screaming from the rooftops the best secret in the history of ever – when he was rudely interrupted by someone entering his home.

Of course, it was the other guy who called the apartment home, so he couldn't complain too much about the disturbance. Besides, nothing could faze him out of his zen-like state.

"Marshall, what are you doing?" Ted asked from the doorway, frozen by Marshall's, clearly excellent, zen-practices.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Balancing a bowl on your head while throwing goldfish into your mouth."

He gave Ted a thumb's up, while still keeping the bowl perfectly balanced. "Bingo." Another goldfish made the flight toward his belly.

Ted just shook his head sadly. "Didn't you get a job?"

"Yep, but we're in the transitional phase. Something about taking the time to grow to Goliath proportions on a personal front prior to employment." Marshall sighed and took the bowl off of his head. "On the plus side, I really think I'm improving my balance."

"Uh-huh." Ted was clearly unimpressed.

Honestly, no one appreciated being at one with one's body anymore.

"Listen, Marshall, I think the engagement's canceled."

He dropped the box of goldfish. "What?"

Ted nodded and slumped his way onto the couch. "Stella and I are on a break."

Marshall picked up the box, set it on the coffee table, and joined Ted in his slump. He wasn't grumpy, but the position looked really comfortable. (And it definitely was. Sweet!) "Why?"

"Because she doesn't like Star Wars!"

There was an awkward silence in which Ted began to shift nervously.

"I mean, because she lied about it."

Marshall nodded his approval. "Of course."

Ted let out a strained laugh. "Yeah, breaking up with someone because they don't like a movie… That would be ridiculous."

"And childish."

"Totally."

Another awkward silence ensued as Marshall thanked the Great Nessie that Lily loved Star Wars.

After his small prayer, he coughed and turned to Ted once more. "So you did it because she lied."

"Yeah!" He gave a firm nod. "If she doesn't think she can tell me the truth now over something as-" Ted made a pained face. "-silly-"

Marshall did his best to stop the sob in his throat, but he was pretty sure a whimper got out.

"-as Star Wars, then how could I trust her to tell me the truth on the hard stuff?" Ted let out a sigh and covered his face with a hand. "I know it's a small thing, but it's so basic and fundamental to how a relationship works…"

Bother.

Marshall was going to have to be the mature one again, wasn't he?

He let out an internal groan.

He hated it when he had to do that.

"Well, did she tell you why she lied?"

"Something about being willing to suffer if it meant I could be happy." Ted waved a dismissive hand. "But those were just excuses."

Marshall blinked at him. "Ted."

"Yeah Marshall?"

"Are you sure you want to get married to Stella?"

Ted's head whipped around to stare accusingly at his best friend. "What?"

"Did you just listen to yourself?" Marshall asked, sitting up in his seat to properly assert his authority and knowledge. (Faking maturity, he had learned, was half tone of voice and half body language. And, he supposed, maybe a little bit of actual maturity. Maybe.) "She was willing to go throughout the rest of her life torturing herself so she could indulge your, frankly magnificent, taste in movies, and you broke up with her for it."

Ted's mouth gaped for a moment or two before he sputtered, "Well, we didn't break up. We're just… On a break."

Marshall put on his long-practiced serious, reproachful father face. "Ted."

"My point is valid!" Ted insisted, finally sitting up as well. "She shouldn't feel the need to lie to me."

Marshall hurumphed. Anecdote time.

"How long did Lily think I hated olives, Ted?"

And with that, Ted's mouth snapped closed.

It was sort of strange, but Marshall had figured out a while ago that Ted more than admired Marshall and Lily's relationship. Ted knew that it wasn't perfect, knew better than anybody how frustrated the two could get with one another and the problems that arose because of it… But for some reason he used their relationship as the standard. The one that he would judge every other bond by and what he aspired to with his own, someday.

It wasn't a position that Marshall was necessarily happy with occupying, but it did make the giving of advice particularly easy now.

"Nine years, Ted. Nine whole years of casting aside those delicious delectable bits because I wanted to make her happy. When Lily found out, you know what she did?"

Ted slumped back in his seat, seemingly deflated. "I suppose it wasn't to go on a break and getting huffy and irritated, was it?"

Marshall did his best to nod sagely. "That's what a marriage is, Ted. You make sacrifices for each other and forgive one another for the mistakes you make." Lecture nearly complete, Marshall slouched back into the couch cushion as well. "If you can't forgive Stella for this, maybe you need to think about what you really want out of your relationship with her."

Several moments passed of contemplative silence.

"You're right," Ted said at last and paused for a moment. "Dammit, Marshall."

Marshall shrugged helplessly. "I can't help it if I'm wise and all-seeing in the matters of love." He let out a giggle. "Between you and Barney, I could start charging." He snapped his fingers. "Hey! Maybe that can be my job! Marshall Erikson – Guru of Love and Mushy Stuff."

Suddenly Ted was sitting up again and frowning at him in a manner that made Marshall think that he had done something wrong. "Wait, back up."

Oh, crap. Lily was going to kill him.

Stupid forget-it-when-you-hear-it clause.

"Barney's in love?"

Marshall coughed and tried to sit up. "So you gonna get back together with Stella, Ted?"

Ted pushed him back into the couch. "Marshall, the Distraction Reaction?" He didn't look mad, just disappointed. "I thought you had more respect for me than that."

"I'm sorry, it's Lily." He sighed. "It must be contagious."

Ted blinked. "Huh?"

Marshall shook his head and continued on with more immediate concerns. "Look, Ted, I'm not even supposed to know this, so please just forget that I said anything about Barney being in love with Robin."

Ted's face got red. "With Robin?!"

THREE MINUTES LATER

"You know, you live a lot closer than I remember." Ted was doing his best to hide his harried panting, but he wasn't entirely certain he was being successful.

Fortunately, it wasn't like Barney noticed these sorts of things. "I know, right?"

Or that he noticed anything that was remotely important. Like the bond between two friends and the rules that came standard with that kind of bond. For instance, ceasing in one's actions when they were clearly doing the equivalent of running a friendship over with a freight train. Repeatedly. Which caused said friendship to be crushed dead. And in this instance, the nature of said train was a certain… obsession with Robin Scherbatsky.

Not that Ted was bitter or anything.

Barney opened up the door to his apartment more fully and retreated back into his lair. "What's up, bros?"

Ted followed, tugging a silent Marshall in by the scruff of his shirt and hearing a small yelp come out of the taller man as he looked everywhere but at Barney.

Like he'd let his best friend off the hook after spilling the beans. No, it was confrontation time, bro style, and Ted needed back up.

Granted, Marshall might not be able to do more than cower and whimper, but his was big, so the noises would seem at least a little intimidating. Hopefully.

Barney all but pranced to his coffee table, snapped up a remote, and clipped off the mega-television before Ted could see what he was watching.

Probably porn that he didn't want to shatter Marshall's innocence with.

"Oh, nothing," Ted answered. "Just thought we'd come by. Hang out. Chill."

Barney gestured toward the kitchen. "Want some beer?"

"Nah, we're cool." Ted casually made his way to the couch and sat down, pulling Marshall down in the seat next to him. "Maybe we could have a nice… talk instead."

Barney raised an eyebrow. "About our feelings? You really are a girl, aren't you?" He frowned at the nervous, twitching wreck sitting next to Ted. "Is Marshall okay? He seems to be having difficulty making eye contact." Marshall shied away from the attention, suddenly very interested in something on the ceiling.

Ted waved a dismissive hand. "He's fine."

Barney shrugged. "Yeah. Probably just intimidated by the Fortress of Barnitude." He grinned at Marshall. "I would tell you it goes away, but it doesn't."

Marshall responded with a disturbing giggle-hack that made both other men turn away in fear.

His best friend clearly didn't do well under pressure. Ted again wondered how the man was going to survive in a courtroom.

"So," Barney said, taking a seat. "Talking." He twiddled his thumbs awkwardly.

Here was the thing. Ted liked to think of himself as a good friend. Nay, a great friend. If there was anything he could do in a given situation to make things easier on one of his buddies, he would. Selling a car, hunting down condoms, playing wingman, even getting tagged along on a crazy adventure or fifty. If a friend needed it, Ted would come through. He was good at those sorts of commitment things.

Barney Stinson was not.

And so Ted had done his best to keep his requests for his bro to a minimum. Things like, 'Barney don't scandalize my grandmother' or 'Barney don't steal my fries when I'm not looking.' Small thing just so Ted could tell that Barney cared.

Of course, then Barney did things like show Grandma his porn collection and down Ted's entire bucket of fries in the five minutes he left the table for the bathroom. But, like Ted had made certain, these were small things that could be overlooked. (Grandma had been a wily thing in her youth anyway.)

So when Ted finally asked something big of Barney, namely not to sleep with his ex-girlfriend, he really shouldn't have been surprised at being disappointed.

But he had been.

And now, when all had been forgiven and Ted thought that he and Barney understood one another at long last, Mr. Stinson had to let him down again.

And it wasn't just the betrayal that stung – it was worry as well. Because Robin was a friend, one of the ones Ted would do anything to help if he could. And as close as he was with Barney, Ted knew full well what the Barnicle had in mind.

Not that Robin, out of all people, wouldn't clearly understand what Barney had in mind.

At that logic, a small voice in the back of Ted's head demanded to know why he was so upset, then? Robin had a good head on her shoulders and was more than capable of taking care of herself, and he had long since started to anticipate this kind of thing from Barney anyway. So what was the big deal? The voice went on to imply that his anger might have something to do with his own guilt involving Stella, what with his own confusing expectations and disappointing actions as a friend and fiancé.

Ted kicked that little voice and put it in the unwanted corner of his brain, where he kept the stuff like china patterns and different names for various strappy shoes.

Stella was wonderful. He and Stella were wonderful and they would be again as soon as he talked with her.

Barney Stinson was not wonderful and had not been acting in a wonderful fashion.

That was the real problem here.

Yep.

…Enough of the introspection crap anyway. It was time to cut to the chase.

He looked at his friend levelly. "Do you love Robin?"

Barney blinked at Ted.

Ted blinked back.

This interaction continued for five minutes before Barney finally sputtered out, "N-noo." He coughed, straightened his jacket and asked, "How are things going with Stella?"

The Distraction Reaction? Really? Five minutes to come up with that?

To be fair, Barney did look a little frustrated with himself.

Showing the first signs of life in a solid twenty minutes, Marshall leaped to his feet. "I told you it was contagious!" he yelled triumphantly.

"You didn't even say anything," Ted pointed out.

Marshall threw a suspicious glance around the room. "It must be airborne now." With that he headed for the kitchen, clearly off to discover what airborne Distraction Reaction contagious bits looked like.

Ted just shook his head before turning back to Barney.

Who was still blinking at him.

"Barney."

Like an electric shock had been administered he jerked into action. "I'm not. Really."

Ted raised a nervous eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes." He gave a firm nod. "I'm mostly not in love with her."

Ted sighed. "You've already done this once!" he said, pointing an accusatory finger at his friend.

"But I haven't 'done' anything!" Barney insisted. "You know I wouldn't violate the bro-code."

Marshall, who was now anxiously poking through Barney's massive porn collection, perked up from behind them. "Well, we've already established that you did break bro-code when you slept with Robin the first time."

Barney swiveled around to face him. "The first and only time!" He glared. "And I liked it better when you were too awed by my abode to speak."

Marshall looked about a bit before gesturing toward the statue to the left of him. "Is that a life-size stormtrooper?"

Barney smiled smugly. "Yeah it is."

Marshall grinned. "Awesome."

Ted rolled his eyes. "Focus!" Geekery was great, but there was a time and a place. "What game are you playing here, Barney?"

"It's not a game!" Barney ran a frenzied hand through his hair. "It's not- it's not anything."

Ted shook his head. "You said you're in love." And whether or not he actually meant it, the fact that Barney was willing to say it had to hold some significance.

Barney brought a hand to his forehead in anguish. "I know. I don't know what's wrong me!" He snapped his fingers and gestured wildly. "It must be a phase. Like bisexuality for women in college."

Ted sent him a blank stare. "Feelings are a phase for you."

He nodded. "Has to be."

"You're not faking to get in her pants again?"

Barney snorted. "Please, Ted. The 'I'm in love with you' routine? If nothing else credit me with more originality."

He still wasn't convinced. "So you're not interested in sleeping with her?"

The blond outright laughed. "Of course I'm interested. What do you take me for, a limp noodle?"

Ted glared.

"But I won't!" He amended quickly before offering a helpless shrug. "It's not like Scherbatsky would be interested anyway, right?"

It was so out of place, Ted almost thought he imagined the gravity of Barney's tone.

Mistaking his confusion for suspicion, Barney rolled his eyes and held up his right hand. "I swear on the bro-code which we all hold sacred."

Ted shifted in his seat. "Okay then."

Barney nodded.

And that, it seemed, was that.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Ted turned hopefully toward his friend. "Want to watch some TV?"

No reason to let the mega-TV go to waste.

Barney gave an enthusiastic nod. "Yeah, I think Monster Trucks are on ESPN5."

In the split second it took for Barney to change the channel, Ted swore he saw Robin's face smiling back at him from the Metro News 1 station.

And in that moment of realization – when it dawned on Ted that this was far from a game to Barney – the situation became infinitely more complicated.

Then a giggle sounded from behind them, Marshall emerging from Barney's bathroom with a huge grin plastered on his face. "Your toilet. It…" He gestured fruitlessly before settling with a gleeful, "Hee!"

Understandably, some of the severity of the state of affairs was momentarily lost upon Ted.