Chapter Two

Robin stood in the kitchen, cake in hand, and just stared at the wall. A few minutes passed, and, though she knew Marshall and Lily were craning their necks to stare at her through the tiny window and the door, she ignored them and simply tried to make her brain work.

What Lily had said, it couldn't be possible. Barney Stinson couldn't fall in love, it was impossible.

And yet…

She remembered the story of Shannon. And the tape.

But, she reminded herself, that was before. The Barney Stinson she knew could not fall in love. It wasn't possible. She nodded her head as she came to that realization (or was it a rationalization?).

She set the cake down on the counter and walked briskly out of the kitchen. She snatched her coat from the chair she'd thrown it over and was out the door before she was even sure of where she was going, and by the time her mind caught up with her actions, she was back at McLaren's.

And Barney was still there.

She made sure he didn't notice her as she slid into a booth in the back corner, covering up her face with a magazine she had hidden in her purse for whatever boring occasion she had been forced to attend recently.

She peered over at him occasionally, watching him hit on the numerous hot girls at the bar, and even allowed a guy at the table next to hers to buy her a drink while she waited for Barney to leave with that night's conquest.

Sure enough, he left with the best looking girl there, his hand on the small of her back as he escorted her out; and Robin heaved a sigh of relief at the sight. He was still Barney Stinson, he was still the king of one night stands. He wasn't in love with her, he couldn't be.

But, in the back of her mind, she remembered that night, not too long ago, when they'd wound up sleeping together. And she remembered the way she had felt, about everything. The panic and worry aside, she couldn't get it out of her mind. And, with it, came a nagging something at the back of her mind, but she pushed it away.

There was no doubt; she was relieved that Barney Stinson was still himself.

Guys, I normally don't like to pass on Uncle Barney's…stories to you, but this one's important to the story, so I'll tell you what you need to know.

"Oh, you are amazing," the woman whispered into his ear, trailing her fingers along his chest and grinning. Barney nodded, staring up at the ceiling and willing himself to feel anything but empty.

He wasn't used to empty. Sure, after Shannon's betrayal he'd felt himself turning into a hollow shell of a man, but suiting up had changed all that. He had purpose, a sense of accomplishment. It was a life he was proud to lead.

Recently, however, he had stopped feeling accomplished and proud after a one-night stand, mainly because they'd really stopped being one-night stands.

Ever since he'd gotten the use of his limbs back, he'd been consistently taking home brunettes, though it took him quite awhile to actually notice the pattern; and one of the earlier nights, after all was said and done, the woman had gone and asked the one question Barney had dreaded:

"Who's Robin?"

Now, the one thing that had given him a feeling of fulfillment and pleasure was just temporarily filling some sort of void.

"Barney?" the woman beside him whispered, bringing him out of his thoughts. He glanced over at her.

"You've gotta go," he said. She stared at him, squinting in confusion, but he only repeated himself. "No, really, you've gotta go."

"Why, are you married?" she mocked, laughing lightly, he was sure, at the mere thought. He shook his head.

"I, uh, have an early morning tomorrow," he hastily explained, trying to usher her out of his bed.

"All right, all right," she muttered, snatching at her clothes as she slipped off of the bed and onto the floor. "I'm going!" She dressed quickly and shot Barney what she must have thought was a withering glare before storming out (to Barney, it just looked like a drunk chick trying not to stumble on her way to the bathroom).

Finally, he heard the slam of his apartment door and he settled back on his bed. He contemplated turning on his television, but the bedroom was dark and he preferred to keep it that way. He closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep.

Now, you kids already know that Uncle Marshall can't really keep a secret. I mean, he'd already told Aunt Robin what Barney had told him not to tell even me, and you also know that I never actually found out until much later. I suppose you're wondering how Uncle Marshall could have kept it from me.

Well, he didn't really. He actually tried to tell me, but I wasn't listening. I was too busy with Stella.

You see, she hadn't technically agreed to marry me after I proposed, all she said was "we'll see." So I was doing all I could to convince her that we should get married, which meant everything else was unimportant, including anything that came out of Marshall's mouth in those few days before he and Lily finally moved into their apartment.

"Marshall," Lily called out, running into the living room, dragging a rolling suitcase behind her. "Marshall, we have a problem," she continued, throwing the suitcase at her feet as she faced her husband where he sat on the couch. "We need another suitcase."

"Lily, we have plenty of boxes," Marshall replied, his eyes on the television. Lily glanced from Marshall to the screen, then stepped in front of him, blocking the show from view.

"I am not putting any part of my wardrobe in a cardboard box, Marshall," she protested, but she didn't get to finish. As she spoke, the door swung open and Ted walked in, whistling as he tossed his keys onto the small table by the door.

"Hey, guys," he said, but Marshall and Lily didn't respond. They were staring wide eyed at each other as Ted crossed behind the couch and up into his bedroom. Lily kept shaking her head, glancing at the now ajar door Ted had just gone through, but Marshall was nodding.

"We. Can't." Lily said forcefully.

"We have to," Marshall responded.

"No," Lily countered. "No, we don't. We have to…to…oh, as much as I hate saying it, we have to respect Barney's wishes," she finally finished, emphasizing with her hands as she spoke. When Marshall began to shake his head, Lily let her arms fall to her side and heaved a sigh.

"We already haven't," Marshall insisted. "And, don't you think," he continued, leaning forward, "that telling Robin was worse?"

"No," Lily snapped in reply. "No, I don't. I think telling Ted is worse because he specifically said not to tell Ted."

"Guess what guys," Ted said, walking out of his room. He passed by the couch just as Lily jumped over the coffee table and onto Marshall's lap. She pressed her hand over her husband's mouth, struggling as he tried to break free of her grasp.

"What, Ted?" she asked, turning her head to watch as Ted walked past them and into the kitchen. He pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and took a long gulp.

"Lucy likes me," he said once he'd swallowed. "I cut up her pancakes for her this morning and, even though I did it wrong, she didn't throw a fit."

"That's great, Ted!" Lily choked out as Marshall finally pulled her off of him.

"Barney's in-" he started, but ended with a grunt as Lily kicked him in the side. "Hey!" he gasped, grabbing her by the ankles to hold her still. He looked up to continue his revelation, but Ted was gone.

"Thanks a lot, Lily," Marshall grumbled, letting go of her legs and returning his attention to the television.

"It's for his own good," she replied, sitting up and gazing forlornly at her suitcase. "Now, about those suitcases."

"We have boxes," Marshall replied absentmindedly. Lily groaned and stood, she grabbed her suitcase and rolled it back to the bedroom, leaving Marshall alone. With the phone.

And it rang.

Marshall glanced at his and Lily's bedroom door before snatching the phone from its cradle.

"Hello?" he asked, only half listening for whoever was on the other end, he was more focused on the show he was half way through.

"Hey, Marshall, were you trying to tell me something?" came Ted's voice. Marshall froze. He glanced behind him again, then leaned forward and cupped the receiver to his lips before whispering his response.

"Barney came by today," he said, but Ted interrupted him a second later.

"The cake!" he said. "I forgot Lucy's cake." And with that, Ted hung up.