Strange new things (Barney/Robin); 1/1
Title: Strange new things
Pairing: Robin, Barney/Robin (How I Met Your Mother)
Summary: It was the morphine. That was all. That and the whole withdrawal from women thing. It totally accounted for the weirdness. Post 3x20 Miracles.
Rating: PG
Note: They’re my new sort-of-resembling-but-make-my-heart-flutter-like Jim and Pam. The finale just clinched it.
-
Barney was acting weird.
She didn’t think it was possible to define anything Barney did as weird, but he was certainly acting a little out of the ordinary. Robin noticed when she started paying him visits after work, entering to find him propped up in bed in the same position, cast limbs splayed out, gaze directed inattentively at the television set on the opposite wall. Thus far she’d chalked the bleary stares and idle smiles up to the morphine drip sticking out of his arm. But it still bugged as she took the visitor’s chair, drawing it up to his side, and it was only when he requested none too politely that she read from the latest Playboy edition - or at least hold the pictures up to his eye - that she forgot all about it.
“You actually read the articles?” she snorted, but selected a magazine from the tray beside the bed, assuming the small pile had been left by Ted. She suspected he felt more than a little guilty for how he’d treated Barney, and part of her was glad for it. They’d both done the hooking-up-and-sleeping-together thing and his disproportionate amount of blame had left her feeling like crap, knowing exactly the damage she'd caused.
“It’s important to appreciate the whole package." Barney paused, smirking inanely at the stupid joke. “Besides, I like to quote passages for my blog. Additional evidence always makes you sound more credible.”
Robin rolled her eyes, flipping open the magazine. “Yeah, you're a real scholar. Okay, I'll read - only because you’re so pathetic right now.”
It was weird having him out of commission like this. At least it had set things right within the group but their table was still a little lifeless at McLarens, knowing Barney was stuck here, covered in plaster and bandages. They tried to transfer their nights to the hospital as much as they could but it wasn’t quite the same.
“Never underestimate the power of pathetic and what it can do for you,” he said, faux-seriously. “Pity sex, for example, even better than break-up sex.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Absolutely. Pity sex makes them go all out. Break-up sex is fun, but messy in its desperation.”
“Okay, I’m sorry I asked.”
He gave a standard, smug smile, shuffling his head back against the pillows. “Find me something good.”
Robin wrinkled her nose, tilting the magazine slightly as she examined a particularly revealing picture. “What, like 10 tips for pleasing your woman or something like that?”
“This isn’t Cosmo, Scherbatsky.”
She snorted again, but started flipping through nonetheless. Barney was silent as she did so, but when she looked up again he was watching the TV, and she hoped he was just tired and that his spirits weren’t fading.
She knew she’d go stir crazy trapped in the same room for so long, and being away from single life had to be killing him. Still, he was remarkably silent about the whole thing, and since he and Ted made up he’d been in a consistently better mood, full of normal, buoyant Barney jokes and random bro code facts.
She still felt guilty for her part in this whole mess, whether it was an indirect one or not. It was… unsettling, seeing him like this. It reminded her that even carefree, cocky Barney Stinson was fallible, that it wouldn't take very much to snatch him away, to snatch any of them away. They could joke all they wanted, but it had nearly happened.
“Scherbatsky,” he prompted, poking her impatiently with the thumb of his unbound hand. “You got something for me, or what?”
She swallowed, burying these morbid thoughts. “Yeah, I got something.”
The idea of a world without Barney was one she had no interest thinking about. So she didn't. She started reading aloud from an article, comforted by the familiarity in their banter.
-
On her second visit she found him struggling with a drink, positioning the straw awkwardly over the neck brace with his free hand. She stepped forward, sliding it gracelessly from his grasp, directing it into his mouth. He mumbled in gratitude.
He really did look kind of pathetic, swathed in bandages in the middle of the big white bed, unable to budge or do anything for himself. It reminded her of that time he was sick and she’d had to baby him through it. It was pathetic in a cute sort of way, seeing his rare vulnerability shine through, not the fake sort he projected for picking up girls. The fact that he didn’t seem to notice or feel the need to hide behind a tough exterior only added to the cute factor.
“How’re you doing?” she asked, lowering the cup, placing her purse on the neighbouring seat.
“Great,” he replied, a little too enthusiastically. “I just got a sponge bath from a hot nurse.”
She lifted an eyebrow, recalling the attending nurse she’d just seen out in the hall. “Hot? Or old?”
Barney gave her a withering look. “Don’t ruin this story.”
A vague smirk pulled at her lips. She sat down, smoothing the blankets at his side as she mulled over which titbits of news to give him for the day.
“So Ted and Stella broke up,” she reported at last. “They danced around the proposal for about a week before reality set in and she freaked. Scaring the crap out of girls is becoming quite an art for him.”
A look of alarm crossed Barney’s face. “Don’t tell me that!”
“Tell you what? You don’t even like Ted’s girlfriends.”
“Exactly! Don’t tell me Ted’s single again! I have my wingman back and I can’t even do anything to celebrate. I’m stuck here. Stuck in this grey, windowless HELLHOLE.”
The low, melodramatic wail in his voice made her roll her eyes.
“There’s a window right over there, Barney. The blinds are drawn.”
“That’s not the point!”
Underneath all the dramatic woe he put on for show she could see some genuine unhappiness straining through, and the smile dropped from her face. She couldn’t stand to see him so dejected. She shuffled closer to the bed, touching him lightly on the arm, noting the way his eyes darted quickly over her face.
“Hey, come on. You’re only going to be here for a little while longer. We'll keep hanging out. And when you get out, you won’t even have to come up with some elaborate lie to tell girls. The story’s right here. Nothing brings the chicks like multiple casts.”
He was almost pouting, which only enhanced the boyish hint to his features, and he lifted his eyebrows to acknowledge her insight.
“True. Though getting hit by a bus doesn’t have quite the same ring as falling from a tree trying to rescue a stray kitten.”
Robin smirked. “Right. Well you get my point.”
When he said nothing she exaggeratedly rolled her eyes, folding her arms over her chest. “Do you want me to try and get a hooker in here?”
“No.” A small smile tugged at Barney’s lips, and his tone uncharacteristically softened. Hell, the refusal itself was pretty darn uncharacteristic.
“But thanks, Scherbatsky.”
A level of unexpected warmth coursed between them, the kind she’d found fleeting comfort in once before. Only this was different, because she’d been sad and rejected then and had assumed it was an impulsive reaction to his kindness and well… Barney-ness, more than anything else. Every woman had to be susceptible once, right? They hadn’t really talked about that night since Ted found out - it became a running joke more than anything, not something she’d examined in any serious detail. But it wasn’t supposed to have any… lingering side-effects.
Robin forced a light smile, startled by this strange development, patting him on the arm. “Of course. What are friends for, right?”
She met his gaze and was surprised when he held it a little longer than necessary. She wondered if it was just her own self-consciousness that made the word ‘friends’ hover in the air between them. There was something oddly pleasant about the warmth emitted from Barney’s stare when it was sincere, and it caught her off guard, drawing her in with rather uncertain anticipation. She blinked, brushing if off as gratitude when it occurred to her what she was thinking, diverting her gaze and straightening the creases in her skirt to ward off any further awkwardness.
“So I found a dirty crossword at work today.”
He lifted both eyebrows, immediately accommodating her change in subject, and she was almost certain she’d just imagined the odd little moment they'd shared.
“That has awesome potential. I’m listening.”
An easy smile slipped back over her features and she reached inside her purse, pulling out the crumpled piece of paper.
It was the morphine. That was all. That and the whole withdrawal from women thing. It totally accounted for the weirdness. At least on his side.
Still, when he laughed at ‘boner’ and jostled her arm, a tiny flutter surged through her chest and she realised it didn’t really explain her weirdness.
But maybe it was just her concern talking.
Yeah. That was definitely it.
-
end
Pairing: Robin, Barney/Robin (How I Met Your Mother)
Summary: It was the morphine. That was all. That and the whole withdrawal from women thing. It totally accounted for the weirdness. Post 3x20 Miracles.
Rating: PG
Note: They’re my new sort-of-resembling-but-make-my-heart-flutter-like Jim and Pam. The finale just clinched it.
-
Barney was acting weird.
She didn’t think it was possible to define anything Barney did as weird, but he was certainly acting a little out of the ordinary. Robin noticed when she started paying him visits after work, entering to find him propped up in bed in the same position, cast limbs splayed out, gaze directed inattentively at the television set on the opposite wall. Thus far she’d chalked the bleary stares and idle smiles up to the morphine drip sticking out of his arm. But it still bugged as she took the visitor’s chair, drawing it up to his side, and it was only when he requested none too politely that she read from the latest Playboy edition - or at least hold the pictures up to his eye - that she forgot all about it.
“You actually read the articles?” she snorted, but selected a magazine from the tray beside the bed, assuming the small pile had been left by Ted. She suspected he felt more than a little guilty for how he’d treated Barney, and part of her was glad for it. They’d both done the hooking-up-and-sleeping-together thing and his disproportionate amount of blame had left her feeling like crap, knowing exactly the damage she'd caused.
“It’s important to appreciate the whole package." Barney paused, smirking inanely at the stupid joke. “Besides, I like to quote passages for my blog. Additional evidence always makes you sound more credible.”
Robin rolled her eyes, flipping open the magazine. “Yeah, you're a real scholar. Okay, I'll read - only because you’re so pathetic right now.”
It was weird having him out of commission like this. At least it had set things right within the group but their table was still a little lifeless at McLarens, knowing Barney was stuck here, covered in plaster and bandages. They tried to transfer their nights to the hospital as much as they could but it wasn’t quite the same.
“Never underestimate the power of pathetic and what it can do for you,” he said, faux-seriously. “Pity sex, for example, even better than break-up sex.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Absolutely. Pity sex makes them go all out. Break-up sex is fun, but messy in its desperation.”
“Okay, I’m sorry I asked.”
He gave a standard, smug smile, shuffling his head back against the pillows. “Find me something good.”
Robin wrinkled her nose, tilting the magazine slightly as she examined a particularly revealing picture. “What, like 10 tips for pleasing your woman or something like that?”
“This isn’t Cosmo, Scherbatsky.”
She snorted again, but started flipping through nonetheless. Barney was silent as she did so, but when she looked up again he was watching the TV, and she hoped he was just tired and that his spirits weren’t fading.
She knew she’d go stir crazy trapped in the same room for so long, and being away from single life had to be killing him. Still, he was remarkably silent about the whole thing, and since he and Ted made up he’d been in a consistently better mood, full of normal, buoyant Barney jokes and random bro code facts.
She still felt guilty for her part in this whole mess, whether it was an indirect one or not. It was… unsettling, seeing him like this. It reminded her that even carefree, cocky Barney Stinson was fallible, that it wouldn't take very much to snatch him away, to snatch any of them away. They could joke all they wanted, but it had nearly happened.
“Scherbatsky,” he prompted, poking her impatiently with the thumb of his unbound hand. “You got something for me, or what?”
She swallowed, burying these morbid thoughts. “Yeah, I got something.”
The idea of a world without Barney was one she had no interest thinking about. So she didn't. She started reading aloud from an article, comforted by the familiarity in their banter.
-
On her second visit she found him struggling with a drink, positioning the straw awkwardly over the neck brace with his free hand. She stepped forward, sliding it gracelessly from his grasp, directing it into his mouth. He mumbled in gratitude.
He really did look kind of pathetic, swathed in bandages in the middle of the big white bed, unable to budge or do anything for himself. It reminded her of that time he was sick and she’d had to baby him through it. It was pathetic in a cute sort of way, seeing his rare vulnerability shine through, not the fake sort he projected for picking up girls. The fact that he didn’t seem to notice or feel the need to hide behind a tough exterior only added to the cute factor.
“How’re you doing?” she asked, lowering the cup, placing her purse on the neighbouring seat.
“Great,” he replied, a little too enthusiastically. “I just got a sponge bath from a hot nurse.”
She lifted an eyebrow, recalling the attending nurse she’d just seen out in the hall. “Hot? Or old?”
Barney gave her a withering look. “Don’t ruin this story.”
A vague smirk pulled at her lips. She sat down, smoothing the blankets at his side as she mulled over which titbits of news to give him for the day.
“So Ted and Stella broke up,” she reported at last. “They danced around the proposal for about a week before reality set in and she freaked. Scaring the crap out of girls is becoming quite an art for him.”
A look of alarm crossed Barney’s face. “Don’t tell me that!”
“Tell you what? You don’t even like Ted’s girlfriends.”
“Exactly! Don’t tell me Ted’s single again! I have my wingman back and I can’t even do anything to celebrate. I’m stuck here. Stuck in this grey, windowless HELLHOLE.”
The low, melodramatic wail in his voice made her roll her eyes.
“There’s a window right over there, Barney. The blinds are drawn.”
“That’s not the point!”
Underneath all the dramatic woe he put on for show she could see some genuine unhappiness straining through, and the smile dropped from her face. She couldn’t stand to see him so dejected. She shuffled closer to the bed, touching him lightly on the arm, noting the way his eyes darted quickly over her face.
“Hey, come on. You’re only going to be here for a little while longer. We'll keep hanging out. And when you get out, you won’t even have to come up with some elaborate lie to tell girls. The story’s right here. Nothing brings the chicks like multiple casts.”
He was almost pouting, which only enhanced the boyish hint to his features, and he lifted his eyebrows to acknowledge her insight.
“True. Though getting hit by a bus doesn’t have quite the same ring as falling from a tree trying to rescue a stray kitten.”
Robin smirked. “Right. Well you get my point.”
When he said nothing she exaggeratedly rolled her eyes, folding her arms over her chest. “Do you want me to try and get a hooker in here?”
“No.” A small smile tugged at Barney’s lips, and his tone uncharacteristically softened. Hell, the refusal itself was pretty darn uncharacteristic.
“But thanks, Scherbatsky.”
A level of unexpected warmth coursed between them, the kind she’d found fleeting comfort in once before. Only this was different, because she’d been sad and rejected then and had assumed it was an impulsive reaction to his kindness and well… Barney-ness, more than anything else. Every woman had to be susceptible once, right? They hadn’t really talked about that night since Ted found out - it became a running joke more than anything, not something she’d examined in any serious detail. But it wasn’t supposed to have any… lingering side-effects.
Robin forced a light smile, startled by this strange development, patting him on the arm. “Of course. What are friends for, right?”
She met his gaze and was surprised when he held it a little longer than necessary. She wondered if it was just her own self-consciousness that made the word ‘friends’ hover in the air between them. There was something oddly pleasant about the warmth emitted from Barney’s stare when it was sincere, and it caught her off guard, drawing her in with rather uncertain anticipation. She blinked, brushing if off as gratitude when it occurred to her what she was thinking, diverting her gaze and straightening the creases in her skirt to ward off any further awkwardness.
“So I found a dirty crossword at work today.”
He lifted both eyebrows, immediately accommodating her change in subject, and she was almost certain she’d just imagined the odd little moment they'd shared.
“That has awesome potential. I’m listening.”
An easy smile slipped back over her features and she reached inside her purse, pulling out the crumpled piece of paper.
It was the morphine. That was all. That and the whole withdrawal from women thing. It totally accounted for the weirdness. At least on his side.
Still, when he laughed at ‘boner’ and jostled her arm, a tiny flutter surged through her chest and she realised it didn’t really explain her weirdness.
But maybe it was just her concern talking.
Yeah. That was definitely it.
-
end