over on livejournal, i've been slowly working my way through a massive 'entire series rewatch.' which is a lot of fun, and also has really put me in a, well, early seasons mindset. with that in mind, this [will be] a series of unconnected one-shots; just little scenes or bits of riffing or whatever. it's not quite 'a drabble for every episode,' but it's a way for me to get out my Feelings!

probably mostly gonna be b/r or the friendship variation thereof (b+r?) — purpose #2 for this is 'distraction from my big dramatic story' — but eh, who knows. i'm also open to requests or prompts? BASICALLY THIS IS JUST A DUMPING GROUND FOR STUFF. hi.

1 January, 2007

For all that she and Ted have been dating for half a year now, Robin's still relieved when he doesn't suggest spending the holidays as a couple. Christmas becomes a group event, and the gang stays up until sunrise on New Year's, drinking, alternating between action movies and Times Square footage, and gambling pennies on Marshall's newest game. It's the first time she's stayed in on New Year's, and it's nice in a way Robin doesn't know how to examine. She kisses Ted at midnight — well, five after; they'd been at the climax of Alien — and clinks glasses with Lily and Barney, and thinks: to another, to more.

It doesn't explain how she wakes up on the floor with her head pounding, mouth dry, a scarf pillowed under her neck, and a weight on her sternum. She opens her eyes and finds herself staring at Barney's leg and ankle, his sock-clad foot resting on her chest. The sock is black and, hungover, Robin's first muddled thought is: soft?

Then a wave of nausea hits, and she groans, shoving his leg off of her and curling onto her side. Now she can see the kitchen, and, hey, it's Ted! He's sleeping sitting on the floor, his body wedged into the corner of the counters, embracing an empty bottle of champagne with both arms. She decides to leave him to it: moving closer and/or calling to him would be too much.

Beside her, she hears an unhappy groan, and shortly after a prodding against her back, before Barney's foot finds itself draped back over her side, resting on her arm.

"Dude," she whines, shoving ineffectively at it while also trying not to move, "stop foot-groping me."

"Foot groping?" Barney grumbles, offended and confirming that he is, in fact, awake. "Robin, if I was 'foot groping' you, I wouldn't be aiming for… for, uh…" he shifts his foot, "Your elbow?"

Robin grunts and rolls onto her back again. Barney's foot lands on her chest with an unpleasant thud. She pushes him off as she sits up, the apartment spinning around her and her vision spotting. The muscles in her back ache, her shoulders are stiff. One problem at a time.

Speaking of problems: "I can't believe this," Barney groans.

"Yeah, surprisingly, I don't want your foot on my boob," Robin mutters, massaging her temple. Okay. She's sitting. Progress. Next step: standing. Barney doesn't make the comment she'd expected, and she sneaks him a glance.

He sighs melodramatically.

"New Year's Day," Barney says, his voice trembling with disgust and melancholy. Robin groans and throws her scarf at him. He's lying on his back, hands folded over his chest like a corpse, staring up at the ceiling. "Is there a more disappointing 'holiday?' A year has passed, time has marched ever onwards, and where am I? Where are we? Where are we; where are we, Robin Scherbatsky? Lying on the floor of some unknown apartment —"

"My boyfriend's apartment," Robin interrupts.

"—a stranger's home," he continues.

"Your best friend's apartment."

"— and what do I have to show for it? Another year. Another number on the calendar, another cycle of dates and holidays and time, and me, me lying on the floor, the world spinning and me in the same place—"

"Ughh, shut up," Robin groans, as Barney doesn't seem to be planning on stopping any time soon. She drops her head back, and wishes she hadn't, as the movement sets her body into another confused why is the earth spinning around me i'm probably dying tailspin. "Dude, are you always this melodramatic on New Year's?" He was pretty bad last year too, in the limo.

Barney heaves a great breath, a sigh, the weight of the world crushing him, et cetera. Then he launches right back into it. "Trapped, as always; alone; lost; bereft of love and companionship and —"

"Ah."

"Ah?" his voice rises in outrage. "'Ahh?' That's what you say, in the face of this realization, the truth, the knowledge that you, too, will someday die alone and cold and —"

"Yeah, you're just upset you didn't have some bimbo to kiss at midnight," Robin says. She glances at him again, and he's glaring at her. Right in one. He looks so put out that she snorts, shifting so that she's sitting on her knees in preparation for standing.

She glances over at Ted sleeping in the kitchen, blissfully unaware of the melodramatics he's missing, and then back at Barney, glowering up at the ceiling. "New Year's sucks," he whines.

"You'll survive," she says, giving in to the urge to laugh, and before she lets herself think about it, she shuffles towards him and kisses him on the cheek.

His wide-eyed look of surprise-slash-probable terror makes the impulse worth it. His mouth falls open, and she staggers dizzily to her feet, patting him on the shoulder, hiding her laugh. "Happy New Year, bro."