raindrops on empty windshields, a how i met your mother fanfic

Okay, so I'm new in the How I Met Your Mother fan fiction business, so I hope that you accept my resume and don't make me the coffee girl! (Okay, that didn't make sense...give me a break, I'm new.)

I understand that it's an update, and no second chapter. The reason for this is that I'm starting a little ritual called "spring cleaning", which is basically where I sit on the couch, eat Nutella, watch Dance Moms, and edit. It's the best season of the year.

I'm not totally sure how I feel about this fic. I hope that you like it, and I enjoyed writing it. Please review!

She doesn't believe in happy endings.

It's a cliche thing for someone like Robin to say-I don't believe in true love, I don't believe in fairytales, I don't believe in general, etc. It's expected to someone of her personality, and she doesn't even know why she's thinking about it.

But there was a time, Robin remembers, as Barney comes through the door with a look on his face that almost makes her assume. There was a time when she did believe-or, at least, it wasn't like she thought it was impossible. Those moments of indescribable happiness that makes your drunk-on-smiles mind think that it could stay perfect forever.

Moments race through her mind as Barney stands still for a moment, and looks at them all in the eye, grinning ear to ear. She remembers kissing in the hospital, in the restaurant, in the taxi, in the rain, even though that wasn't a kiss, but it was perfect all the same. And she thinks about how she always gives up on happy endings after that, and then they come back up.

And this is the moment where she thinks that maybe happy endings aren't so possible after all.

Because she knows what he says, and even though there's a little bit of hope in the pit of her stomach, a memory from the girl who believed in happy endings, not too long ago. And she thinks for a minute, he'll say anything-but that, at least. Anything from what she knows he'll say.

But then he says it, and she smiles automatically, because she and Barney aren't in love. They never were, really. It was all just the heat of the moment kind of thing-it's not what Marshall and Lily have, or what Barney and Quinn have, or what Robin knows Ted will eventually have. She and Barney were a storyline to the novel of their lives, and that storyline ended a long time ago.

And yet.

And yet Quinn's walking away, and it's just her and Barney again. It brings her back to MacLaren's, where she thought that her father didn't care, and knew that Barney did. And she almost felt his familiar lips against hers in the cool, glistening rain. She doesn't expect it to be like that, but for a second, she feels an imaginary drop.

He's talking about running away together. She'll joke back, she thinks, and she carries it nicely. And she's trying to ignore the desire, the want, the thought of such a thing happening-dropping everything, going away, leaving Nora and Kevin and Quinn and Ted and all that behind, then coming back and making the most of it. It's a sick fantasy, she knows, but it's healthy and pink and perfect in her head.

She tells him she's happy for him, and she means it. He's Barney, and he sleeps with women. It's his thing; always has been, always will be. And now he's getting married-all the lies and the persuasions and the empty beds are behind him, and Robin feels a hint of pride when she sees his happy eyes.

But when she hugs him, she holds on a little while longer.

Because if there's one thing that she truly believes, even deep down, it's that she doesn't really want to let go.