Author's note: I do not own HIMYM or anything vaguely related to it. This is only my own what-if imagining.

~*~

"Young lady, you go sit on that bench and think about what you did." Barney jabbed a finger at the empty bench beneath a painting that looked like one of Lily's drop cloths. "Do. Not. Move. Got that?" He waited for the dip of a tiny blonde head, dropped his hand to his side and took two steps toward Robin. "That should buy us some time."

Robin waited for their daughter to climb onto the bench and arrange herself in the very picture of contrition. "Very masterful. What do we do when she's done thinking?"

Barney shoved both hands deep into his pockets. "I was hoping you knew."

"Crap. Are you seriously telling me neither one of us has any idea what we're doing here?" Robin glanced back at the door to the security office. It remained closed.

"Looks that way."

Robin bit back a curse. Damned whispering gallery. Of course they had to be in the same gallery as the last time they'd been nabbed by security. Same guard, too, and of course he'd remembered them. "We have to do something. We're the parents." The full impact of that fact soured her stomach. No passing the buck on this one. "How did we get to be the parents?"

An impish grin curved the corners of Barney's mouth upwards. "I am going to say it was the unprotected sex."

She couldn't argue with that. "Now we know what we were protecting against. I mean, she's great and all, but now we have to deal with this," Robin bit her lower lip. "Stuff."

"In my own defense," Barney said, one hand raised in a placating gesture, "I wanted to use a condom, but a very persuasive naked lady convinced me that would not be necessary. Now look where we are."

"Would you shut up and focus?" Robin took hold of Barney's sleeve and turned him away from the bench. "Not on her. She has her lower lip out and she's twirling her hair. That pout and twirl routine is your Kryptonite. You can't look at her when she's doing that, or you'll cave."

Barney snatched his sleeve back. "I will not."

Robin crossed her arms beneath her breasts. If they didn't get this settled soon, she was going to burst. "Oh, really? That kid could write her own playbook, entirely devoted to how to play you. You'll start out wanting to discipline her, and end up buying her ice cream and a pony."

"I did not buy her a pony."

"Yet. Did you think I was not going to notice that we now have a stuffed pink unicorn bigger than our dog? Or that the unicorn happened to show up in our apartment the same day I asked you to take her outside when she got cranky during Lily's exhibit? No candy. No stuffed animals. She's four. She has long term memory now. If we let her get away with this, she's going to think she can run wild whenever she wants."

Barney let out a long breath. "Discipline. You're right. We should do that."

"Okay. Good. We're on the same page. It has to be fair, and age appropriate. We can't be too hard on her. We've done literally the same thing, in the same exhibit, and got caught by the same guard."

"Yes, but we were grownups, and we had alcohol."

They'd also spent the entire night egging each other on. This particular vandal –only four, and already she'd been branded a vandal on an official record- had operated totally on her own. "I miss alcohol."

"I want alcohol. I think they serve beer in the cafe—-." Barney broke off at Robin's glare. "What? I'm not nursing."

Robin's voice dropped to her most menacing whisper. "If I see you sucking on a bottle while our son is still sucking on my boobs, he will be the last Stinson male to ever do so. Ever."

"See? That's discipline. I do something you don't like, you threaten me with consequences I dread more than I want to do the thing you don't want me to do. I do not do the thing, and learn why I should only drink at Ted's house until our little guy is drinking from a big boy cup. Transfer that skill to our current situation and everybody wins. Except for you know who, who is in deep," he swallowed. "Stuff. Man, we suck at this. By the way, did you get that article I found on the benefits of early weaning?"

"Old Yellow Legal Pad magazine is a font of medical wisdom. I showed it to your mom when we dropped the other kid off. She said it was the best laugh she's had in weeks. Now quit changing the subject and focus." She pinched his chin between thumb and forefinger and turned his head to face her. "Not on her."

Barney's brows flashed up, eyes round and wide. "But she's swinging her leg. How long can we realistically expect her to wait?"

Robin craned her neck to get a better view. Total leg swing. She'd start picking at the ruffle on her sock next, and if things got that far, the kid was going to fidget herself right into a second offense and it wasn't even noon yet. "Any ideas?"

"We call Ted, ask his advice and then do the opposite?"

"Good in theory, but Ted's in Spokane. He's probably not even up yet. Lily and Marshall are in Rome. We're going to have to handle this one on our own. What have we got?"

Barney shoved both hands through his hair. "The first article of The Dad Code is, show no fear."

Robin nodded. "That's good. Go with that. Work that magic."

"Our daughter is four. She has no idea that we have no idea what we're doing. To her, we are all-powerful giants in charge of food, bedtime, and access to toys. In her rapidly developing mind, we've already got this all figured out and are only debating which punishment is the most heinous. The issue is not what we know, it's what she thinks we know."

"We don't even have to actually punish her. Technically, we did not tell Rent-a-cop back there," Robin tipped her head toward the security office door, "that we would punish her. We told him we would deal with the problem, so we deal with it. Our way. What is our way? Do we have a way?" All things considered, making it four years without the involvement of law enforcement in parenting was a pretty good run. Over now, but still a pretty good run.

Barney tapped one finger against his lower lip. His gaze darted left, then right. At last, his posture relaxed. "We do have a way. You're a seasoned broadcast professional. I'm a former corporate executive working on book two of a three book contract. What do we both fear above all things and yet require to better our professional futures?"

Robin tamped down the urge to grab Barney and plant a kiss right on that perfect, brilliant mouth of his. She'd credit his account later, and settled instead for a high five. "A fair and honest critique of our work. That's perfect. We start out by telling her we love her, praise her creativity, review her technique and outline our expectations for next time."

"Can we both agree that her biggest mistake was getting caught?"

"Duh. We have to deduct points for non-use of her greatest assets. She's a little girl with curly blonde hair and big blue eyes anime characters only wish they had."

Barney shook his head. "Not even a single lip tremble. Rookie mistake. That's how she got the unicorn, you know; the lip tremble, combined with the hair twirl, and those eyes. That kid is a weapon when she wants to be. Getting the pirate hat on the triceratops, though, that was inspired."

"Agreed. I also like how she launched herself at you, full tilt, and literally jumped into your arms while the security guard was chasing her."

"Our kid has serious air, plus she's a total daddy's girl. I had no idea how much I was going to like that. We do good work in the kid department." Barney slipped his arm around Robin's waist and favored her with that special smile that was hers alone.

Robin rested her head on his shoulder for only a moment. "Yeah, we do. Think we're ready to deal with this?"

"I think we are. Can we do it over ice cream? If I can't have alcohol, I really want ice cream. We can get rum raisin. It's almost the same."

It wasn't, not even close, but Robin didn't care. The life she had with Barney, their mini-vandal and their colicky poop machine was better. The adventure was only beginning. "You're an idiot."