-1FIVE THINGS ROBIN SCHERBATSKY DOESN'T DO
.i. talk about her feelings
Barney is the first person Robin calls when she gets the news.
Barney answers at the tail end of the first ring. "'Sup, Scherbats-?"
"I got the job!"
"You got the job?"
"I got the job!" Robin says, and jumps up and down, twice. "I'm so excited I'm jumping up and down like an idiot!"
"So am I!"
Robin stops jumping. "You are?"
"What? No. Of course not. That would be . . weird," Barney says. "I was just, you know, trying to be in the moment. Which is an awesome moment, because -"
"I got the job!"
Barney laughs. "Congratulations, Robin. You deserve it."
"Thanks, Barney." The warmth in his voice reminds her of the restaurant, how certain he was of her abilities, and how that made her able to make the call. She says, "You know, you're the first person I thought to call when I got the news."
"I am?" Barney's voice sounds funny, hesitant.
"Because you were the one who encouraged me, remember? In a rare moment of maturity and genuine friendship? The night I scored you that totally hot - "
"I remember that night," Barney says.
"I bet you do," Robin says, and waits for Barney to follow up with some lewd comment, but he doesn't, just stays silent on the other end of the line. "Anyway," she continues, "I start in three weeks. Now all I have to do is leave this job."
"How are you planning to go out? Blaze of glory or professional grace? I've done both, and they each have their pluses and minuses."
"The blaze is tempting - very tempting - but I'll probably go the professional grace angle. My future employers may be far away, but news travels fast, you know."
"Far away? Like . . . Washington?"
"It's in Japan," Robin says. "I told you that."
"No," Barney says, and his voice sounds weird again. "You definitely didn't tell me that."
"I didn't? I could have sworn I did. You know, I've always wanted to go there. I mean, I've been there, but never for a long stretch of time, and it's such a fascinating place. The opportunity is incredible, one of those things that almost never comes along. To be honest, I've been in New York City longer than I've been anywhere since I was a kid. I'm starting to get the itch. Kind of like you two weeks into dating a girl." Robin pauses, considers. "Make that one week."
Barney laughs again, but this time the warmth is gone; it sounds strained, tired.
Robin feels some of her job excitement simmer down a bit. "You all right, Barney?"
"What? Of course! I am - I am more than all right. I am super excited for you."
He still sounds weird, and Robin frowns. "You just got kind of quiet there."
"Oh, no, I was just, you know, thinking. Japan. Wow. They have such crazy technology there," Barney says. "And really weird game shows. Aren't they the ones really into karaoke?"
"What a fine description of one of the oldest cultures on earth," Robin says. "And yes, they are the karaoke people."
They talk for a few more minutes, but the conversation never quite gains back the steam it had at the beginning, and by the time Robin ends the call she feels a little deflated, almost irritated.
The next person she tells is Lily, over a coffee date they'd arranged the night before. When Robin tells her, Lily looks elated and then, when she hears the location, like she's been punched in the gut.
"Japan?" Lily repeats.
"Yes, Japan," Robin says, and then looks at Lily. "Why does everyone have this weird reaction to Japan?"
"Well, it's not that I don't like Japan. It's just," Lily says, and actually looks like she's getting a little teary, which makes Robin panic, but then she continues, "It's just that it's so far away, and I'm going to miss you."
"Aww," Robin says, and scoots her chair around the table so she can put an arm around Lily's shoulders. It's the kind of thing she's always seen girls do for their friends but nothing she's felt compelled to do herself until now. As she feels Lily lean into her a bit, she realizes how much she's going to miss her, and it takes Robin a second to say, "It's not like we're never going to talk or see each other. This is the era of globalization! And this is me, Lily, this is how I am."
"I know," Lily says. "And I'm happy for you. I'm just kind of sad for me. Because I'm a selfish bitch."
Robin laughs and scoots back, watches Lily gather herself together and sit up straight, though she's still nervously tearing a napkin into narrow strips. "So, Ted was upset when he heard?"
"Ted doesn't know yet," Robin says. "I got the call when I was on my way to meet you. I thought I'd call him later."
Lily's brow furrows together. "Then who was the one who had a weird reaction?"
"It was Barney," Robin says, and suddenly feels guilty, like again she's forgotten Ted's feelings. "But there was a reason - Barney was the one who suggested I go for the job."
"Ah," Lily says, and clamps her lips together. She looks like she wants to say something more, but doesn't.
"Do you think that was wrong of me? Will this cause another big Ted and Barney-"
"No!" Lily says, waving a hand around for emphasis. "No, not at all. I was just thinking about Barney. He was weird when you told him?"
"Well, not at first. At first he was excited. But then he got weird about the Japan thing." Robin pauses, considers. "Do you think it's the distance?"
Lily nods. "Yeah, I think it is. But you know how Barney is. He acts like he doesn't care, like everything is a joke or a game, but-"
"He does," Robin says, thinking of Barney running into traffic to see Ted, flying to San Francisco to save Lily and Marshall's relationship, reassuring her in that restaurant when she'd lost faith in herself.
"So, don't hold it against him," Lily says. "I'm sure it's hard for him."
"You really think he'd miss me that much?" Robin says.
Lily looks even sadder than she did when Robin first said the word Japan when she says, "Yeah, I think he will."
Robin thinks about that later that night, after they've all met at McLaren's for drinks in her honor, and she's been toasted every possible way. Barney smiles and makes fun of all of Marshall's toasts, and offers her one in Japanese she doesn't understand, but still there's a funny tension in his face, a weird cadence to his words. Robin had hoped the weirdness of their conversation would evaporate at McLaren's but instead it seems to have become condensed, heavier between them, and when he gets up to leave before the two couples and without a girl in his sights, Robin feels a knot form in her stomach, one big enough to get her to follow him out of the bar.
"Hey," she calls out at the top of the stairs. Barney is already ten feet down the block, and he freezes at her voice. She jogs a bit to close the distance between them and when Barney turns around, he's got the same face he had on in the bar, an attempt at his usual friendly expression, almost right but not quite.
"Robin," Barney says. "What's going on?"
"I wanted to talk to you," Robin says. "About earlier, when we talked."
"What about it?"
"The thing is, Barney, you and I are a lot alike."
Barney nods. "We have several common, and awesome, traits."
Robin smiles, grateful for a degree of normalcy between them. "Exactly. And I know one of the things we have in common is that talking about our feelings is kind of-" Robin stops talking at the sheer panic in Barney's eyes, and then starts up again when he doesn't interject. "Well, kind of awkward. And weird."
Barney takes a sharp breath. "Did you talk to Lily?"
"Yeah, this afternoon. Actually, she's the one-"
"Oh my God." Barney looks like he's about to throw up, looks so much like it that Robin takes an involuntary step backward. "Robin, you have to understand, it was a joke, okay, a joke, but Lily thought it was for real, and so, you know, you can't -"
"Wait, what are you talking about?"
"What am I talking about?" Barney repeated, staring at her in disbelief, which turns into relief. "I am talking about - I am talking about nothing in particular, because Lily didn't tell you about that joking thing I said to her a few weeks ago that she really believed. For a little bit. Because then I told her it was a joke. And she knows that."
"No, she didn't mention anything like that," Robin says. "And I'm a little afraid to ask what it was."
"You shouldn't," Barney says, a little too quickly, and then adds. "It was not the kind of thing you'd like to hear."
"Okay, if it's something you, who posted images of that Treeman who grew roots on your blog - without a warning - thinks I wouldn't like to hear, then I'll trust you."
"Good," Barney says, and then, "So, if Lily didn't tell you that, what did she tell you?"
Robin hates things like this, mushy conversations, articulating feelings to someone else, and so most of her wants to say it was nothing and run back to the bar. She knows Barney would let her off the hook, but something in the way he's looking at her, and the memory of all the affection she's had for him since they met - because she has always liked him, thought he was funny and fun, if a little immature. Something makes her say, "She told me that you might have gotten weird on the phone because you're going to miss me when I'm in Japan."
"Oh," Barney says.
"And I just wanted to tell you-" Robin stops, because she is like Barney, she doesn't like saying things like this, but she remembers the way Barney's arm felt around her in McLaren's that night Simon dumped her for the second time, and she decides to go on. "I wanted to tell you that I'll miss you too, Barney. We're friends, and we'll stay friends, even if I'm far away. We stayed friends even after we slept together, and that's something they say a man and woman can never do. That's a big deal, because what they say is usually right. Like, they all say you should never fight a land war in Asia. So totally right."
"Or order seafood on a plane," Barney offers.
"Exactly," Robin says. "But we were able to be friends even though we slept together."
"Right," Barney says. "We're friends."
A gust of wind blows down the street and Robin wraps her arms around herself. She hadn't stopped to get her jacket on her way out, and only now does she realize how cold it is. Mid-September in New York, warm at noon and freezing at midnight. "Well-"
"You should get inside," Barney says. "It's cold out here."
"Yeah, it is," Robin says. Still she takes a second to leave, because the conversation feels unfinished even though she's said everything she meant to say, and even a little more than that. It's like there's something in the air between them unresolved, waiting. But Barney doesn't say anything else, and they've never been the hugging type, or the kind to kiss good-bye, and so she just nods, and says, "See you later."
She turns and walks back to McLaren's, goes down the steps quickly and yanks the door open, grateful for the rush of warm air inside. Before she goes through, she looks back, and Barney is still standing there watching her, an unfamiliar look on his face that she doesn't get to examine because a rush of people come out of the bar and go up the stairs, and by the time they're gone he's just a figure in the distance, walking away.
.ii. get homsesick
The official line from Robin is that Japan is awesome.
"The food is incredible," she tells Marshall.
"The fashion is ridiculous," she tells Lily.
"They seem to actually care about actual news rather than coming up with stupid puns," she tells Ted.
"I totally rocked out at karaoke the other night," she tells Barney. "You would have been so proud of me."
For the most part, it's the truth. The food is great, the clothes are amazing, her coworkers are much better than Sandy Rivers, and karaoke was even more fun than it is in New York, but -
But.
Robin leans against the door of her eleventh-floor apartment, which is tinier than any she's had in New York City or even seen, including Lily's. She hangs her keys on a hook and sits down on the bed she bought that doubles as a couch. She reaches for the remote, flips through channels, reminds herself of how awesome Japan is, because it totally is. Reminds herself of how great the food is, how awesome the fashion, and she does like everyone she's met. She's even been on several successful dates with men who were interesting and fun and totally fine with a good-bye the next morning, it's just-
Robin doesn't let herself finish the thought, rolls off the bed and gets up, moves into the tiny kitchen and decides to make herself something to eat. Robin Scherbatsky doesn't indulge in moods, she addresses problems head-on, and this problem is probably caused by being hungry, since she hasn't eaten since lunch.
Sitting on the couch-bed fifteen minutes later, though, warm noodles in a bowl cradled in her lap, the feeling comes back, a feeling that Robin has always put on a list of things that were fine for other people, just not her; things like having kids, getting married, adopting cats.
Robin is homesick.
"Argh, this is lame!" she says to the empty room, through a mouthful of noodles so it actually doesn't sound like anything recognizable. Since Robin's the only one there to hear it, though, it doesn't really matter how incomprehensible it was.
She gets up and goes over to her DVD case, looks over the small pile of DVDs she took with her in her luggage, all carefully chosen from her collection since there was only so much room left in her luggage. All carefully chosen but one.
Robin pulls that one out and stares at it, smiling. It was a going-away gift; everyone else had given her useful things - a handheld translator, an upgrade in her cell phone plan to make international calling cheaper, a gift certificate for Ikea to help fix up her place. Barney gave her a Walker, Texas Ranger DVD set.
"What the hell?" she had said after unwrapping the package.
Barney held up a hand. "I know, it doesn't make sense now. But someday soon, you may find yourself in need of it."
"I don't think anyone has ever found themselves in need of Walker, Texas Ranger," Lily said, reaching across the table to snatch the DVD out of Robin's hand.
Barney held up a finger. "I beg to differ. There are countless innocent people who find themselves in need of justice, of protection, of rightness - in other words, they find themselves in need of the protection provided by Cord Walker."
"What's a cord walker?" Marshall asks. "Wait, is that his name?"
Ted leaned over, looked at the box. "It totally is."
Robin reached over and took the DVD back. "Barney, this is by far the most random present I've ever received."
"Thank you," Barney said, inflecting his head as if he'd just received a compliment. "You have to promise you'll take it with you. Someday when you're in Japan, and you're feeling homesick, you'll be grateful for something as gosh-darned American as this fine TV show."
Robin rolled her eyes. "I don't get homesick."
"I don't," Robin repeats to herself in her Tokyo living room-slash-bedroom-slash-dining-room. Still, she finds herself tearing open the plastic packaging with her fingernail. She puts the first DVD in the player and sits down on the couch to watch for a few minutes, because she really can't think of anything better to do.
She doesn't move for the duration of the episode. Half the time she spends laughing at the awfulness, the other half she spends involuntarily involved in the plot. She pulls out her cell phone and texts Barney:
You were right about Walker.
Before the opening credits roll on the next episode, Barney texts back:
You were wrong to doubt me, Scherbatsky.
Robin texts back:
Why do you spell out my name? Doesn't it take forever?
Barney responds:
I made it a macro.
By this point, the theme song has started, and Robin dials Barney instead of texting him.
"Is that the dulcet tones of the original Walker theme in the background?"
"There's another one?" Robin says.
"In the third season, they start using an original song, called Eyes of the Ranger." Barney pauses dramatically. "Sung by Chuck Norris."
"You're making that up."
"I most definitely am not. I'll link to it in my blog later. You can't miss it."
"Can't wait," Robin says, pausing the DVD. "Thanks, Barney. I doubted it when I opened it, but you were totally right about this."
"Don't tell me that the intrepid Robin Scherbatsky got homesick."
"I didn't say that," Robin says automatically, and then considers. "Well, maybe a little bit. But it's completely natural after a few weeks in a new place to feel this way, after the excitement has worn off and it starts to become your normal life. Right?"
"Sounds right to me," Barney says. "Which episode are you watching?"
Robin looks at the DVD sleeve and tells him the episode title and description, which makes Barney laugh. "That's a good one. Oh, you know what? You should maybe skip ahead, there's an episode about Japan on there."
"There is not," Robin says, then reads ahead. "Oh my God, there so is."
"Hit me with the description."
Robin clears her throat, and then in a dramatic voice reads, "'When a powerful Japanese Yazuka is killed by Congressman Cabe's assistant, the Yazuka come to America, seeking revenge, and Walker and Trivette are assigned to protect the congressman.'"
"It's even better than you would imagine it to be," Barney says. "You should watch it. And actually, hold on-"
Robin starts navigating through the DVD to the main menu, brings up the episode Barney mentioned, listening to a scuffle in the background. "What's going on there?"
"Just a sec-" Barney says, and then Robin hears the sound of the DVD theme music come through the phone.
"Hold on, you've got a set, too?"
"Of course," Barney says, as if she's just asked the dumbest question on the planet.
"You want to watch it together?"
"Why else did I dig out the DVD?"
"Okay," Robin says, and settles back against the cushions. "Start it on the count of three."
They count off together, and watch the episode in sync, pausing occasionally to laugh at the events on screen, other times so that Robin can point out total inaccuracies, which Barney always chides her about.
"You're fighting a losing battle, Robin," he says. "This show lost the struggle for authenticity the first time ancient Chuck Norris took out a young guy twice his size."
Robin gasps. "You dare say something against Chuck Norris?"
"I dare," Barney says. "Mostly because I know he's nowhere near me. He is a little scary."
"So true," Robin says, watching him roundhouse kick a guy in the face. "How does he get his leg up so high?"
"I know, it's totally crazy."
By the end of the episode, the conversation has drifted away from the episode to their actual lives; Barney asks about her job, and Robin asks him about his.
"Will you ever tell me what you do?" Robin says.
"Never," Barney says.
"My secret theory is that you actually do something totally boring, like auditing, and you're too afraid to come clean."
"You will never know," Barney says. "So, you like it there?"
It's a casual question but the way he asks it feels like he really wants to know, like he's genuinely curious.
"I do," Robin says, shifting on the couch-slash-bed. "The job is interesting and there's tons of stuff to do here."
"Is the situation worthy of your awesomeness?"
Robin smiles. "Well, so few things are. This comes close."
Barney doesn't say anything for a minute or so, and so Robin rolls over and looks at the clock. "Hey, you probably have to get to work, right? It's almost 9:30 here."
"Yeah, I'd better go," Barney says.
"Those audits aren't going to resolve themselves."
"I'm not an auditor," Barney says. Robin can hear from the noise on his end of the phone that he's moving around the apartment, putting things away or picking things up. She can picture him, wearing a dark suit, some kind of shiny tie, shoes perfect, hair just right, holding a coffee cup in one hand.
"-so you've got to just let it go."
"What?" Robin asks.
"You've got to stop asking what I do, I'm never going to slip and tell you," Barney says. "Government operatives have learned their secret-keeping skills from me."
"Yeah, you're a regular Jason Bourne, Barney."
"Since I love that movie, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear any sarcasm in that comment."
"Noted," Robin says. She knows this is where she should end the conversation, but she doesn't really want to hang up, so she just lies back against the cushions, staring at the muted Walker menu screen, waiting for him to make the move.
"It was good to talk to you," Barney says.
"Same here," Robin says. "This was fun."
"Yeah, it was. I haven't had a Walker buddy since-" Barney cuts himself off.
Robin shifts position on the couch. "You had a Walker buddy? When?"
"Just, you know. When the DVDs came out a couple of years ago and I was - I was out of the country. Like you!"
Robin looks more closely at the DVD box. "But what about when the show was first on? You would have been, what, fifteen? Did you watch it then?"
"What? No. Back then, in the '90s? I was totally cool," Barney says. "I watched . . . MTV. And Fresh Prince."
Robin laughs. "Admit it! You are a Walker lover from way back, before it was ironic and cool."
"I will make no such admission," Barney says. "And don't press me on that, I've passed more than one lie detector test in my time."
"You can't fool me."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Barney says. "Anyway, I do have to go. I'm glad you like the gift."
"I really do. You know," Robin says, leaning upward, feeling a rush of recklessness that's totally ridiculous given how small the thing she's about to suggest is. "We should do this again sometime."
"Watch Walker together?"
"I mean, you don't have to -"
"No, no, that sounds good." Robin hears keys jangling and a door closing and knows Barney has left his apartment. "I'm up for it. Text me next time you're around with time to burn and a desire for truth, justice, and Chuck Norris."
Robin does, a few days later, and a few days after that, until it gets to be a regular thing, the kind of thing that she never thought she'd look forward to, but does. It's a fun distraction with the bonus of gossip about what's happening in New York; the progress of Marshall and Lily's apartment, Ted's romantic adventures, Barney's latest technological acquisitions and bizarre obsessions.
Other things about Barney himself: the vaguest hints about his job, experiences in his daily life in New York City, places he's been and would like to visit (including the revelation of a year spent in Hong Kong), until finally one day Robin says, just before hanging up on one of their conversations, "Hey, how did I not know this stuff before?"
Barney takes a second to answer. "Because you were so distracted by my incredible good looks?"
"Yeah, that must have been it," Robin says. "But seriously, it's weird, I've known you for three years and it's when I'm in Japan that I start finding this stuff out? Isn't that strange?"
"Maybe," Barney says, which isn't the kind of revelatory answer Robin was hoping for, but no other one is forthcoming, so she lets it drop.
She doesn't stop wondering about it, especially in the few minutes after hanging up the phone after a night of Walker-viewing and increasingly long conversations. But she doesn't let it linger much longer, because indulging such largely sentimental, ultimately pointless, thoughts is another activity on the long list of things Robin Scherbatsky just doesn't do.
And then one night, in the middle of an episode, Robin hears something on the other end of the phone; a woman's voice, calling out, "Lieutenant Stinson?"
Robin's hand tightens on the phone, and she has to force herself to keep her voice light when she says, "Got company there, Lieutenant?"
"Yeah, uh," he says, and then whispers, "I'll call you back."
The call disconnects before Robin can say anything, which is fine, because it's not like Robin's upset or anything. She gets it. They don't make appointments for these things, it's not like Barney should have cleared his schedule so that they weren't interrupted.
It's definitely not a big deal. He'll call back in a few minutes and things will be back to normal. There's no reason for things to be weird.
Robin puts the phone down in her lap and watches Walker drop down from the loft of a barn onto the back of a goon, a member of a drug cartel that for some reason set up shop in a rural Texas ranch. It's ridiculous, totally hilarious, but for some reason Robin can't find it in herself to laugh.
.iii. make the same mistake twice
The news station in Tokyo asks Robin to cover New Year's Eve from Times Square. At first Robin plans to surprise everyone, but a half hour after getting the news, she dials Barney's cell phone. He's the person she talks to most often in New York now.
"You got Barney," Barney answers.
"Guess who's covering New Year's Eve from Times Square this year?"
"Don't tell me it's Chuck Norris," Barney says.
"No, you idiot, I am," Robin says. "The station wants me to come out there to cover it! They think an American is the best choice for the job."
"That's awesome! But you're Canadian."
"I stopped fighting that battle two weeks after I started here," Robin says. "And anyway, I wasn't bringing it up over this, which will get me back to New York, all expenses paid."
"Sweetness!" Barney says. "When do you get here?"
"A little before Christmas," Robin says.
"Hey, James and Tom are having a holiday party to celebrate their new place, you'll have to come."
"Absolutely," Robin says. "How are they, by the way? Did James get that promotion?"
"No," Barney says, with a sigh, and then goes on about the injustices of James's workplace. Robin finds herself smiling while she listens; Barney's conviction of his brother's abilities is kind of endearing, especially since Barney doesn't really seem to have any real idea of what James's job entails.
"-and James says he's fine about it, but I still say he should fight it."
"He probably knows what's best," Robin says, and then spots her cameraman in the doorway, waving her hand. "Hey, I've got to get on set. Talk to you later, okay?"
"Stinson out," Barney says.
Robin rolls her eyes and closes her phone, but she's still smiling when she gets to makeup.
As Robin walks through the door of McLaren's for the first time in months, shaking the snow from her hair, she thinks, I hope this isn't-
Before she can finish the thought, Lily's voice rings out in the bar. "Robin!"
Robin looks up, and there's Lily, pushing out of the booth toward her, and next to her in the booth is (as always) Marshall, sitting there with his hand raised in a wave. Ted and Barney are sitting on the other side, and both of them are looking at her, Ted moving to get out of the booth, Barney not moving at all, just smiling at her in a way that makes her stare at him a little longer than she does at everyone else.
And then Lily is hugging her, and Robin hugs her back; Ted gives her a kiss on the cheek and a warm clasp of her upper arm. Marshall makes his way over and hugs her, which is kind of weird but nice, and then there's Barney, hanging back for some reason but still smiling in that same unfamiliar way. It's a little strange, but what's even stranger is the rush Robin feels at the sight of him, how glad she is to see him again, so much so that she almost feels off-balance.
"Scherbatsky, you made it!" he says, and his voice sounds the same as always. He doesn't hug her, or kiss her on the cheek, or do anything like that, but then again, why would he? They're not the hugging type, or the kind to kiss hello.
But still it feels strange to just be standing there, saying, "I did!"
It feels like the stupidest thing anyone's ever said, but no one is looking at her funny. They're all looking at her like they're really glad to see her, the same way she's glad to see them, and in that moment Robin's unfinished thought - I hope this isn't weird - evaporates, because Lily starts talking, and Marshall jumps in, and Ted makes a joke after which Barney says, "What up?" with a hand raised for a high-five, and everything is just as she remembered it.
The night ends the way nights in New York used to end, too; Barney and Robin the last to leave, left alone in the booth on opposite sides of the table.
"I have to say, it's weird to actually see you here," Barney says, putting down his half-finished beer.
Robin cradles hers in both of her hands. "I haven't been gone that long."
"I know, I know." Barney shrugs and taps his bottle against the table once, twice.
"I think I get what you mean, though," Robin says, because everything's pretty much the same, exactly as she left it, but somehow it feels different. Jet lag, probably. Or maybe they changed McLaren's.
"Did they get new booths or something?" Robin looks around, squints at the light fixtures.
"Here? No, it's the same as always," Barney says. "Why, does it seem different?"
"Must be me," Robin says, with a shrug.
It must be her. It must be the jet lag, or maybe the hot dog she ate for lunch, or the nachos they split at the table. Something is making Robin feel weird, like the booth is smaller than it used to be even though the table between her and Barney seems huge, so big that if she stretched her hands across it, she could probably just barely reach his hands. He's holding his beer in one and the other is loosely open on the table, fingers up. She wants to reach across and grab it, which is stupid, because what are they going to do? Hold hands across the table?
Holding hands isn't what Robin wants to do. She knows herself well enough, is honest enough with herself, to know that. Part of her felt it the whole night, as she sat beside Ted in the booth, Barney at the end of the table. She found herself watching him when other people were talking, carefully holding herself so she didn't accidentally brush against him when he put his arms on the table.
Robin knows what she wants. That doesn't mean she's stupid enough to give in to it. They're going to leave after they finish this last round, which is what they said when Marshall and Lily left first, and Ted a few minutes later. It doesn't mean anything that their bottles have been sitting there half-finished for at least a half hour.
She should leave. She should go. She should finish this beer, she should - she should listen to what Barney is saying, because he's talking.
"Wait, what?"
"I was just asking if you got the package I sent you," Barney says. "I wasn't sure it would make it there in time."
"No, I got it. Season five, right? Work had me busy the last week so I didn't get a chance to watch any, but it made it there. Thanks, I'm looking forward to them."
"You should," Barney says. "You have some classics waiting for you."
"I don't think anything can beat the one where Walker and Trivette go undercover in nightclubs tracking down the latest designer drug of choice."
"Oh, this will: Haley Joel Osment as a kid with AIDS," Barney says, and then points his finger decisively as he says, "who Walker shares a sweat hut with."
Robin scrunches her eyebrows together. "That sounds-"
"It's not as disturbing as it sounds. Well, it's kind of disturbing," Barney says, tipping his beer as he reconsiders. "You have to see it."
"Clearly," Robin says.
This is the time to leave. Barney doesn't make a move or say anything, though, and when she looks up at him, he's not looking at her. He's playing with the label on his bottle of beer, like he's nervous, which is weird, because there's no reason for him to be. For some reason the sight of it makes that last bit of her resistance fall away.
"Do you have the DVDs?"
"Me? Of course." Barney looks up from his bottle. "Why, do you want to-"
"Sure," Robin says, and drinks the last of her beer. She knows what she's saying yes to.
.iv. hide
Robin knew it was a mistake the whole way over to Barney's apartment, in the elevator ride up, in the hallway outside his door; knew it for a fact up until the moment she kissed him, when she stopped thinking about much of anything like that at all.
She realizes it again the next morning, though, when she wakes up and sees Barney sitting on edge of the bed, watching her.
"Robin," he says, and it's not what he says but how he says it, like a question he's about to finish. It's also the expression on his face, the affection in his eyes, that makes her remember why it took her so long to go home with him the night before. This was a mistake, and now Robin doesn't just know it the way she knew it the night before, she feels it right down to the core of her.
"I have to pee," she says before Barney can say anything else, and rolls toward the side of the bed, taking the sheet with her. Her sudden movement propels Barney off the edge of the bed to the floor, where he lands with an awkward thud. "Sorry!" she calls over her shoulder as she hop-walks toward the bathroom.
She shuts the door behind her and leans against it, puts the back of her hand against her mouth and takes one, two deep breaths. She's overreacting, clearly; they've done this before, it's no big deal, and things will be fine. She just needs to settle.
Barney knocks on the bathroom door and Robin nearly jumps out of her skin.
"Hey, Robin," he says. "We should probably-"
"It's fine, Barney," Robin says. "We're both adults. And we've been down this road before, it's totally fine. Hopefully it will go a little more smoothly this time, you know."
Barney doesn't say anything.
"I mean, there's no reason for it not to, right? People do this all the time," Robin says settling herself into this new argument. "There's no reason to freak out or obsess over it. And, you know, Ted never has to know."
"I wasn't really thinking about Ted."
Robin doesn't know what to say to that, or why the way he said it made her heart race, or how the hell she's going to get out of the bathroom. She could ask what he was thinking about, but she doesn't, because she doesn't really want to know the answer. And so she just stands there, leaning against the bathroom door, waiting for things to make sense.
After a minute or so, Barney knocks again. "You still in there?"
"Not about to scale down the side of your building in a bedsheet," she says back.
"It would be a sure way to get you back on Metro One."
Robin smiles, feels a little of her panic ease away. "I think it's the only way I'd be back on Metro One."
Barney sighs, which Robin is surprised she can hear; he must be standing right near the door, just like her. For some reason the thought makes her lean into the door instead of away from it. After a second, he says, "I'm going to make some coffee, you want some?"
Part of her does. Part of her wants to sit down in the kitchen with him and maybe eat a muffin, drink some coffee, talk about doing something later in the day. Part of her wants it so much that she straightens up and says, "I should probably get going, I have to set up some stuff for New Year's Eve. For the broadcast, I mean. There's tons to do and I didn't really get much of a start yesterday, so I should really do some stuff today. Soon. This morning, really."
"Okay," Barney says, and then it's quiet on the other side of the door. Robin waits a few seconds and then pulls the door open slowly, peers into the bedroom. Her clothes are right there, piled neatly on the edge of his dresser. He must have gathered them together while she was panicking in the bathroom, which is swiftly turning into an embarrassing memory; Robin Scherbatsky doesn't panic and hide in bathrooms.
She gets dressed as quickly as she can, puts Barney's sheet back on the bed, and then goes into the living room. Barney is in the kitchen, drinking his coffee, the Wall Street Journal spread in front of him. Robin folds her arms across her chest and says, "Any big news?"
"Nothing too exciting," Barney says, shrugging.
"No news is good news, right?" Robin says, which is most definitely the stupidest thing she's ever said, although she's pretty sure there's another contender coming the next time she opens her mouth. It's like she's forgotten how to speak, which is ridiculous, since Barney is the person she talks to most often nowadays. It shouldn't be hard.
But it is. "So, we're okay, right?"
Barney looks up. "Of course. Why wouldn't we be? We are totally fine. In fact, we are awesome."
"Right," Robin says, nodding. "I'll see you later."
"Not if I see you first," Barney says.
Robin's already at the door when he says it, but can't help looking over her shoulder at him; he's wearing an expression that mirrors the way she's feeling inside, awkward and desperate and embarrassed, and the sight of it on his face makes Robin feel even worse instead of reassured. She wants to say something to make him feel better, to make herself feel better, but instead all she can come up with is, "Bye," called out as the door swings shut behind her.
--
Robin hails a cab, which she intends to take her to the hotel the station picked out for her, but instead she finds herself giving the driver a different address. When she gets there ten minutes later, Lily opens the door after three knocks.
"Robin," she says, wiping her hand on the oversized smock she's wearing.
"I slept with Barney," Robin says.
Lily looks confused. "I know you did. Is this some kind of delayed reaction? Or - oh. Ohhhhh, you mean, you slept with him again? Last night?"
"Yes," Robin says, pushing past her into the apartment. An easel is set up behind the couch, showing a painting in progress that looks like a mountainous landscape, or a particularly ripe bowl of bananas. "Nice painting."
"Thanks," Lily says, still standing by the door, a shocked look on her face.
Robin sits down on the couch. "What's new with you?"
Lily waves her paintbrush and starts walking toward Robin. "No no no. We are sticking with the original news item. The breaking news of you-"
"Yes," Robin says, putting her head in her hands.
"-and Barney."
"Yes," Robin says.
Lily settles in beside Robin on the couch and doesn't say anything for a few seconds. When she does, her voice is tentative. "Are you okay?"
Robin sits up straight. "Me? I'm fine. I'm totally fine, it's just - it was kind of unexpected, and you know what happened the last time."
"I know," Lily says. "You seem a little upset, though."
"Well, yeah, because the last time everything just about imploded, and Barney got hit by a bus, and he and Ted had to have that big girly moment in the hospital room, and we don't want to go through that again, do we?"
"Right," Lily says. "It's just."
"It's just what?" Robin says, looking over.
"It seems like it might be something else," Lily says, her voice even, patient.
Robin looks at Lily. "This is how you get little kids to confess to you, isn't it? This tone of voice?"
"I got Kendall the Terrible to admit to stealing the class hamster in less than three minutes last week. It was a personal best," she says. "And that kid's a straight-up sociopath."
"I believe it," Robin says, and then clasps her hands together, laces her fingers one way, then another. Finally, she says, "There was something else. This morning, before I left, Barney wanted to talk, and he had this look on his face. Which sounds stupid. It's nothing, right? It's nothing. I'm just overreacting because of the jet lag."
"It's not nothing."
"It's not?"
"No," Lily says, shaking her head, opening her mouth once, twice, before finally saying, "He's in love with you."
"That's not funny."
"I'm not kidding." Lily's expression shows that she's serious.
"Lily," Robin says. "That's ridiculous. Why would you even suggest-"
"He told me," Lily says, and Robin feels something break open inside.
It makes her desperate to move, and so she gets up off the couch and looks at her watch, and says, "I have to go. I'm late."
"Late for what?" Lily says. "Robin, we should really -"
"No time," Robin says. "Gotta get to the station, you know."
"But Robin," Lily says, grabbing her by the elbow.
Robin turns around. "Lily, Barney is not in love with me. He's Barney. He doesn't fall in love. He's probably not capable of it."
Lily drops her elbow. "Do you really think that?"
"Lily. Come on." Robin hikes her purse up on one shoulder, ignores Lily's shocked expression. "This is Barney we're talking about. I'll see you later, okay?"
Hours later, watching a marathon of It's Me or the Dog on Animal planet, Robin still can't stop thinking about the look on Lily's face, and the way it made her feel sick inside. Because it was Lily's face that did it, the shock and betrayal there. It wasn't what Robin said.
Because what she said was the truth; Barney doesn't fall in love. That's not Barney's thing. He might be infatuated, or have a crush, or want to sleep with her, but love is something totally different.
Robin tries to watch Victoria Stilwell teach a Jack Russell terrier not to bark at the doorbell, but all she can think about is the way Barney looked at her in the bar when she first walked in. The way he always remembers the name of her boss at the new station, how her clothes were piled neatly on the dresser instead of where she left them. She feels something open up inside herself, something big and scary that feels like the moment before she leaned forward on her first trip bungee jumping.
Before she can think about it much more, her cell phone rings. Robin checks the Caller ID, even though she can't think of anyone she'd like to talk to right now. Ted, maybe. But it's Lily.
Robin watches the call roll over to voicemail, and then waits for the voicemail to register so she can check it, but before it can, the phone starts ringing again. Lily, calling a second time. Robin flips her phone open.
"Robin, where are you?"
"I'm in my hotel room. Why?"
"Because you're supposed to be at the party."
"What party?" Robin asks, and then remembers. "Oh my God, the party. James and Tom."
"Yes, they're asking about you, and Barney is wondering where you are-"
Robin makes an inarticulate noise of frustration.
"-and so are Ted and Marshall. I just snuck into the bathroom to call you and figure out what I should say. That you got hung up at work? When are you going to get here?"
Robin considers the time, the traffic, her hair, and the way Barney looked when she left this morning, and says, "I'm not going."
"What do you mean you're not going?"
'I mean," Robin says. "I'm not going. I can't, Lily. It's too weird."
"Robin -"
"Tell them I got stuck at work."
"But Robin, there are like eight days until New Year's Eve, no one's going to buy that you couldn't get away for an hour or two!"
"I know," Robin says, pulling a hand through her hair. "I know, it's just - it was so weird this morning, Lily."
"Was it not weird the last time?" Lily sounds a little frustrated. "Because you handled it just fine then."
"That was different."
"Why?"
Robin sighs. "I don't know, it just was. Listen, Lily, I don't want to get into all of this."
"Fine," Lily says. "Can I give you some advice?"
"No."
"I'm going to give it to you anyway. I can't believe I'm saying this to Robin Scherbatsky of all people, but seriously: it's time to man up."
"Man up?"
"Strap on a pair and come to the party, or at the very least call the guy. I know Barney acts like he doesn't have any feelings, but -"
"I know," Robin says, putting a hand against her forehead. "I know."
"Seriously, Robin. Don't let him stand here all night watching the door. And don't make him spend all night making excuses to his brother for you."
Robin takes a deep breath. "I'll call him. I'll tell him - I'll tell him something."
"Okay," Lily says. "But do it fast. This party's on New Parent time. I doubt it'll make it past eleven."
"All right," Robin says, and hangs up.
It takes Robin four minutes to work up the nerve to call Barney; she knows because she times herself, and the only reason she doesn't take longer is because she knows Lily is timing her, too. In those four minutes, she decides to be her old self: direct, to the point, confident.
Barney answers before the second ring is up. "Robin."
"Hey, Barney," Robin says, feels her confident old self disappear. She props a hand on her hip and decides to do her best impersonation. "How's it going?"
"Good, good," Barney says. "Having a great night here, the party is - the party is awesome, actually."
"I bet it is," Robin says, and then feels it: the moment things can go either way, the moment she can say she's on her way, and show up there, and act like her old self, and take things back to where they used to be. And then she thinks of Barney's face in the morning, and it slips away. "Actually, that was why I called. I'm stuck here at the station and I don't think I'll be able to get away."
"Oh," Barney says. "James and Tom were hoping to see you."
"Tell them I say hi."
"I will."
Robin should just hang up, should leave it at this, should maybe mention something about seeing Barney at McLaren's tomorrow night, but she can't. Instead, she says, "Listen, Barney, about this morning -"
"Robin, you know-"
"Barney," Robin says, and doesn't let him talk over her. "I'm sorry about how I left. I don't know what got into me. It must have been the jet lag or something, I was totally not myself. I definitely don't want things to be weird between us," Robin says. "I want us to be friends."
"Friends, right. Of course," Barney says, and there's a tone in his voice that makes Robin's stomach turn over.
She sits down on the bed and tries to figure out what to say to make it better, but before she can, she hears something in the background on the other end of the phone.
"There you are," someone says, a girlish someone. "I've been looking for you."
Robin hangs up before she can hear what Barney says in response. There's no reason she should feel angry at the sound of the girl's voice. She doesn't care what Barney does; they're friends, after all, that's it. Friends.
Except Robin thinks back to Barney's voice when he said that, how the confidence of his words was undercut by the quiet distance in his voice.
Suddenly Robin can't sit still anymore. She turns off the TV and puts on a puffy red vest and some gloves, and heads out for a run, doing her best to ignore the fact that it feels like the conversation ended something rather than fixing it.
Which isn't a big deal, really; so maybe she won't be able to call Barney as much anymore, or watch Walker, Texas Ranger with him, or send him text messages when she's bored. She definitely won't be able to go home with him when they're the last two left at McLaren's.
Robin has been trying not to think at all about last night but suddenly, now, it's all she can think of; the way Barney looked after she kissed him in his living room. There was a warmth and affection in his expression that she recognized because it looked like how she felt, both in that moment and also earlier, when she first saw him in McLaren's earlier that night. It was something that made her feel reckless and alive but also strangely safe; something she felt desperate to escape when she saw it again in Barney's face in the morning.
She did escape it; there was no warmth or affection in Barney's voice a few minutes ago. Robin should be glad, because she got what she wanted. Things will go back to the way they used to be. Barney will probably go home with the girl, and Robin will hear all about it at McLaren's tomorrow night. Robin picks up her pace as she thinks of the lines he could use, and how funny they were in the past, and how she'll have to laugh when she hears them tomorrow night.
She can't laugh now. She slows down and comes to a stop on a street corner, and feels a little like she's going to throw up, which is ridiculous because it's not really that cold and she hasn't been running that long. Robin knows why she feels sick inside, knows what she has to do to fix it.
.vi. say it first
Robin probably should have taken the time to change, but she doesn't, and so she arrives at James and Tom's at 10:45PM wearing the same sweatpants, T-shirt and puffy red vest she left her hotel room in.
"Robin, you made it!" James says when he opens the door, his face turning from surprise to gracious welcome in less than a second. "You look - wonderful!"
Robin looks down, and then past James at the collection of people in nearly-black-tie. "Oh, I-"
James puts a hand on Robin's shoulder. "You look beautiful."
"Thanks. Is Barney around?"
"I think I saw him with one of the waitresses," James says, leaning forward in a conspiratorial way. "A petite brunette, who looks like Eva Longorria - not my style, but good for him, right?"
Robin feels her hand clutch into a fist, but forces herself to smile. "Absolutely! Where can I find him?"
Barney is where James says he will be, in the middle of the crowded living room. There's a woman standing near him, wearing a caterer's uniform that's dressier than Robin's outfit. Robin looks around and sees that people are giving her odd looks, and tucks some hair behind her ear before squaring her shoulders. She definitely should have gone back to change, but won't let everyone else see that she knows it.
When she looks back at Barney, he's looking at her, and the expression on his face makes her regret coming out there at all; it's worse than the tone in his voice when they talked, worse than when she left this morning. He looks surprised, and maybe a little annoyed and even afraid.
Robin forces herself not to leave, and instead walks over to him. The waitress standing next to him stops talking and gives Robin a dirty look. "Can I help you?"
"Sure. I'd like a drink."
The girl looks annoyed. "What would you like?"
"Whatever takes the longest to make. Sound good?" Robin is annoyed at the edge in her own voice. She's not the type to get jealous, or be rude to waitresses, but right now she'd like nothing better than to tell the waitress exactly what she can do with the drink when she comes back with it.
Robin watches her let out a huffy sigh and then leave, weaving in and out of the crowd, a few of whom are looking over at Robin and frowning at her outfit. When Robin looks back at Barney, he looks curious, but all he says is, "So, you made it."
"I did," Robin says, crossing her arms across her chest. "I, uh. Didn't have time to change. Obviously."
"It's an interesting look."
"It's awful. I'm sorry, I know this is your brother's party, and it's lame of me to show up like this, it's just," Robin says, and isn't sure how to finish it. It's just that she couldn't sit in her hotel room one more minute, it's just that the idea of him going home with someone else made her blood boil. "I wanted to see you."
"Well, here I am," Barney says, holding up his drink. "I am doing awesome."
"Yeah," Robin says. "I guess, the thing is, I'm kind of not."
Barney's drink doesn't move, but his expression changes, gets a little less guarded. "You're not what?"
"Awesome. I'm actually the complete opposite, I am as un-awesome as it gets. I hung up the phone with you and I felt - I felt like I was going to barf, actually."
"Barf. Wow," Barney says, and seems to consider something. "I didn't know people still used that word."
"Vomit. Whatever," Robin says, and shifts her weight. She feels like she actually might barf, or vomit, right now, in the middle of the holiday party. "You see-"
"Here's your Jabberwocky," the waitress says. "It's the most complicated thing the bartender knows how to make."
Robin takes the glass and sniffs it, then hands it back. "Tell him I like it with double the lemon juice and no lime. And I want a green umbrella in it."
"I don't think we have umbrellas."
"Well, find some," Robin says. The waitress huffs a sigh again and walks away, taking a hefty sip of the drink as she does so.
"You have a thing for green umbrellas all of a sudden?" Barney asks, taking a sip of his drink.
Before Robin can think better of it, or even really decide to say anything at all, she says, "No, I have a thing for you."
Barney chokes on his drink so violently that Robin has to take the glass out of his hand and pound him on the back once, twice. When Barney straightens up, his face is flushed and his expression eager. "What?"
"You heard what I said," Robin says, and finishes Barney's drink. She puts the glass on the tray of a passing waiter, never looking away from Barney's face. "I have a thing. For you."
"That's usually my line," Barney says. 'Let me guess. Is it a big thing?"
Robin rolls her eyes but can't help smiling, because there's something so familiar in his expression now, in his voice. It's the Barney she knows and recognizes, the Barney she's become friends with, the Barney she went home with the night before. The one she wants to call whenever she gets good news, who always gets her jokes, who looks at her the way he's looking at her right now, like she's the most awesome person on the planet. In that moment Robin finally understands how mutual that feeling is, and is able to put a name to it.
"The biggest," Robin says, stepping closer to him. Her heart speeds up both because she's so close to him and because she knows what she's about to say. "The thing is, I'm in love with you."
Before Barney can say anything , she kisses him, right there in the middle of the party, with everyone watching, because she doesn't need to hear him say it back.
.end.