Title: Wow x Sixteen
Author: Manda6 (fromiftowhen on LJ)
Fandom: HIMYM
Pairing: Barney/Robin
Rating: R, to be safe, for language and sex.
Spoilers: Season 3, up to and including Sandcastles in the Sand
Summary: How "Sixteen no's, seriously?" becomes sixteen wow's, following the events of Sandcastles in the Sand. Basically, I use the word 'wow' in sixteen different instances. A lot.

Note: This is easily the oddest format I have ever written a story in before. I kind of jump around in time a bit, but I hope it isn't too confusing. In my mind, the events of Sandcastles in the Sand occured on a Saturday night. This fic deals with that night, the next morning, Sunday, and then the following day, Monday.

--

When Barney pulls back and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, all she can think is Wow.

--

He tugs the strand of hair he just tucked behind her ear and bites his lip.

"Wow, Scherbatsky, what the hell was that?"

"I – it's…" She doesn't get much more out before her lips are once again moving over his, lips parting.

--

Wow, the room is actually spinning, she thinks as Barney pulls back a second time – this time to kick off his shoes and undo his cufflinks, remove his jacket. She can't decide if it's from the scotch she had at the bar – but that was a while ago – or if the last ten minutes had put her into a haze.

--

When Robin tells Lilly about this two days later (in an unspoken confidence that Robin fears will only last until she leaves the apartment), she will liken kissing Barney to the time Lily and Marshall got back together on the front stoop of the apartment.

"You know how when you guys kissed, it was sort of like kissing him for the first time, but it was so familiar and so good that all you wanted to do was get him naked?"

Lily looks slightly taken aback for a moment, and then grins. "Wow."

--

"Wow, I like your style, Robin." She'd been straddling him, trying to unbutton his shirt as quickly as possible, but it was so frustrating she'd given up and yanked the shirt apart, buttons flying.

"Shut up, Barney," she whispers, shoving his shirt off his shoulders.

--

In 2030, when Ted finishes telling his kids about the night (or, at least, parts of the night) Aunt Robin and Uncle Barney first hooked up, his daughter stops him.

"Wait, wait. Uncle Barney and Aunt Robin actually sat through Sandcastles in the Sand, willingly, more than once? And did Uncle Barney really watch Let's Go to the Mall a thousand times?"

Ted nods, and he can hear his son mutter, "Wow."

--

"Scherbatsky, really? Wow, really? A days of the week thong? Oh, this is so going in my –"

"Do NOT say in your blog."

The thong, and the six others that had come in the pack, had been a gag bridesmaid gift from Lily. They'd both always agreed that there were only certain days of the week you could wear a thong and not be slutty. Saturday, Robin figures, is one of those days. Or maybe not.

--

Barney looks up at her from where his chin rests against her thigh.

"I was going to say…" he starts, his right hand skimming over the 'Saturday', "before you made fun of my blog…"

Robin gasps and the word 'wow' breathes quietly off her lips as his fingers move the material to the side.

"… that this thong is so going in my pocket. Just for safe keeping, of course."

--

She hears, rather than sees, him put the scrap of material in his pants pocket and then seconds later all she hears is the blood rushing in her ears.

As his mouth descends upon her now naked body, her hips jerk and she lets out a strangled wow, although she's sure it comes out more as a moan.

--

"Wow, For Her Pleasure?" He grins, pulling a condom out of the box. "At least I know you haven't had these since Gael. There's no way he could possibly know –"

She grabs the condom out of his hand and brings his face to hers, her lips a whisper against his.

"Stop. Talking."

--

When Barney enters her and stills inside her, she bites her lip.

He leans down and kisses the hollow between her collarbone and Robin thinks it's probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever done during sex, ever.

Wow, she wonders, where did that come from?

--

Two days later, two minutes after Robin leaves Lily's, across town, Marshall's cell phone rings.

"Baby, I know you're busy, but, oh my god. I can't believe I waited so long to tell you."

When Lily finishes telling Marshall the story, he's silent.

"Baby?"

"Wow."

"I know. I just hope I get to be around when Ted finds out."

--

In the seconds following her orgasm, Robin finally gets it.

She feels like she has the secrets of life all figured out.

All those women – and for now, she'll pretend that the bracket encompassed them all, because she really feels too good right now to get freaked out – all those women who slept with Barney before her… if he made them feel like this, they weren't the idiots or the victims Robin took them to be. No, they were smart. They were smart and lucky and secretly, just for this instant, Robin is jealous of every single one of them for getting to experience this before she did.

"You're speechless. Wow. WHAT UP."

And then the afterglow fades and reality comes crashing down and oh, fuck she's going to be sore tomorrow and Barney is still Barney, but not Barney now.

She rolls onto her side, facing him, his eyes scanning her face hesitantly.

The last thing she thinks before she falls asleep is that her side of the bed will be the only one occupied in the morning.

--

A set of gentle vibrations stirs Robin from sleep at 5:05 in the morning. Blinking, she rolls over, sees Barney fumbling with his phone, and sighs. In case he turns around, she pretends to be asleep. So that's how he gets out before they wake up, she thinks.

It's past 9 when Robin wakes up later on that morning.

She's not hung-over – she wasn't that drunk – but she's sore and it takes her a second to remember why.

Barney.

And as soon as she thinks his name, she hears him.

Barney Stinson is still in her bed, shirtless, and he's saying her name. Wow.

"Mornin', Scherbatsky." He's propped up on his elbow, facing her, and from the looks of it, he's been awake for awhile.

She almost doesn't want to know, but she has to ask. "Were you watching me sleep, Barney?"

"Actually, Robin, I was contemplating blog titles - 'Bros before Hoes?' or 'I Went All the Way with Robin Sparkles' – and wishing I had my camera."

In spite of herself, she giggles. He's not supposed to make her laugh by being a pig.

"I was watching you sleep. Not in a… creepy way. Just in a…" he trails off, and he looks… embarrassed? Nervous? Both.

"I'd say I'm surprised you're still here, but I think you're more surprised?"

If he's surprised at her question, he doesn't show it. "My phone alarm went off, and I turned it off and rolled over and you were asleep still and…" he stops, and something changes in his face. He's Barney again, the one who comforted and surprised her last night.

"You're beautiful, Robin."

And she's surprised again.

"A lot of the women you screw and leave are beautiful, Barney." She doesn't know if she's flattered or disgusted, or even if she's the only one he's used that line on.

"None of them are you, Robin," he smiles – the one he reserves for really awesome things, like laser tag and talking about Lost - and before she can respond, he has his hand in her hair and he's leaning towards her again.

Before she's even kissing him back, she knows - this won't be the last time this happens.

--

The next night, Barney's cell phone rings as he's updating his blog.

"We have to tell Ted, Barney."

"Marshall already called me."

"What?! I just left Lily five minutes ago, literally."

"Robin, come on. This is Marshall and Lily. I'm surprised she didn't call him and put you on speaker."

"Meet me at McLaren's." It's not a question, and she hangs up before he can answer.

When he slides into the booth next to her a while later, he's smiling.

"Were you typing when I called you earlier?" She asks, her eyes trailing down to where his hand is lingering on her thigh.

"Just some last minute stuff for work," he answers, clearing his throat, his hand stopping on her knee.

"Barney, what do you do?"

"Oh, Scherbatsky. I'm afraid my tongue is tied."

She expects him to follow that up with something lewd about his tongue and her the previous morning, but he's suddenly quiet. And his hand is on the table, nowhere near her knee. And he's looking up at…

"Ted! Hey, man."

"Hey, Barney, Robin. What's up? Where are Marshall and Lily?"

"Oh, I saw Lily earlier. It's the anniversary of the first time she and Marshall… well. They're staying in tonight."

It isn't the anniversary of anything, as far as Robin knows. But she had spoken to Lily a few minutes ago, asked her to let them talk to Ted alone.

"Oh, okay." He looks confused for a minute but then wanders off to the bar to get a drink.

Barney leans toward her, his breath warm against her ear. "Are we doing this?"

"That depends," she whispers, "on whether you plan on doing anything later."

His hand on her thigh is answer enough, and she braces herself.

Ted wanders back from the bar, drink in hand, and sits down, smiling.

"So, earlier today, at work," he starts, but Robin doesn't let him finish.

"Ted, Barney and I slept together."

"The other night." Barney chimes in, and Robin has to hand it to him that he doesn't mention how many times – three – and that he manages to keep his voice neutral.

"What?"

Barney glances at her. "Ted, we're sorry. I'm sorry, man."

"No… just… I." He places his drink on the table, runs a hand exasperatedly through his hair and stands up.

"Wow." And then he turns and walks out of the bar.

That night, Barney lets Robin cry on his shoulder again.

It'll be two weeks before Ted will speak to Robin again, and another two before he'll acknowledge Barney in any civil way.

--

It's six months later and Robin's digging through Barney's dresser for a t-shirt to put on when she catches a glimpse of blue.

The Saturday thong.

When he walks out of the bathroom behind her, his hair still damp from their shower, she holds up the panties, a questioning look on her face.

"Oh, Robin, really? It's Wednesday."

"You still have these?"

"Well, yeah. You don't throw away a thong that you steal from your… bro."

"Bro?" She asks, grinning.

"Bro… friend. Brofriend?"

It's six months after that first night, and things between them are still undefined. Neither of them wants a commitment, but the fact that neither of them have slept with anyone else in six months – that, and the fact that it's midnight on a Wednesday and she's wondering if she can get by with the clothes she has here for work, without going home in the morning - makes Robin wonder how much longer that whole 'no commitment' façade will hold up.

Glancing at the panties, she asks, "Did you even wash them?"

"Scherbatsky. Really. Of course not. That defeats the purpose of stealing panties."

"Gross, Barney."

"You like it," he grins, his voice lowering as he backs her up against the dresser.

It's six months later, and yeah, she does like it.