The huge diamond in her engagement ring sparked brightly as she adjusted her grip on the neck of her beer bottle, a little spray of light refraction falling over her hand. Ted let out a long, slow breath and she saw it, saw where he was looking.
"You know," Robin said very slowly, reluctantly, every word like pulling teeth, "we can talk about it."
He stared at her, a little shocked.
"Yeah, I know. I know." She waved her hand dismissively. "This is me, voluntarily going to the feelings place, and Hell's freezing over. But we can. If you need to. We're friends, and this is… this is a thing for you. I know what that's like."
She totally didn't know what it was like. Not from where he stood, not in this situation; not on a number of levels. "Are you luring me into this so you can make fart noises and call me a girl?"
"I'm not going to make a super strong commitment to not doing that if you get really mushy, because let's be realistic, but I'll do my best." She smiled and sipped her beer, but then she leaned sharply towards him across the booth, her lips slightly pursed in an attempt at sombre preparedness to listen. "Seriously, buddy, if you've got something you think you need to say, you should say it. I won't freak out. I might get mad, but I won't freak out."
Ted narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. "Did Lily talk to you?"
"No," she said firmly.
"Marshall?"
"I can decide to check in with you on my own! I can notice things and decide to…" she trailed off under the judgement of his sceptical eyebrow. Resignation settled in and she slumped back in the booth, knowing she wasn't going to convince either of them that she was exactly perceptive in this department. "No, no, he didn't."
He couldn't believe he was suggesting it even as it came out of his mouth, but he was certain there was absolutely no way she would bring this up without prompting and there were no other options left, "Barney didn't say something did he?"
Robin scuffed a fingertip against a scratch in the table, her eyes shuttered by downcast lashes.
"Wow," he muttered to himself, not at all sure what to think. His world kept shifting, the things he thought he understood and could predict kept changing. "You guys really talk about that kind of stuff?"
Robin's facial muscles shifted and he could sense the scowl even before it was fully formed, the glare which told him he'd put his foot in his mouth again. "Yeah, we do. We're getting married, Ted. We talk."
He shook his head, tried to play it off. "Totally. Of course. I just- I just didn't imagine some Marshall and Lily style daily recap, you know, what you had for lunch and every little conversation both of you weren't around for or whatever... I didn't think you guys had time for that in between arguing about who's more awesome."
She didn't laugh.
"Sweetest burns, I can see you catching up on. I can see Barney having a whiteboard or something for those, actually. Do you keep score?"
She barely even smiled, squinting one eye at him impatiently; she wasn't going to let him slither away from the topic even if she would prefer that. "Well, it's not what kind of BLT we had and which news stand we went to and cutesy garbage, no. We're not lame, we can go to the bathroom unsupervised without filling each other in on the details. But that's not what we were talking about, we were talking about our Best Man, because that actually matters. You've got a job to do, and I need to know that you're up for it."
Ted started peeling the label off his beer, not wanting to meet her eyes. "You know I'm up for it. I promised you years ago I'm up for it."
"Are you really, though?" Her tone was dead serious.
He blinked at her stupidly, stunned by the bluntness of the question, stunned that maybe she was really going there. "I mean… of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Ted," she started with a sigh. A gaggle of twenty-somethings came into the bar and the noise level doubled for a few minutes as they greeted their friends. Robin waited, her gaze unwavering, her eyebrows pressing towards each other over her nose and forming a crease of annoyance between them. "Ted, I know you want to look out for me, but..."
His tongue seemed to fill his mouth, the yeasty after taste of his beer suddenly rank and choking.
"Remember what you said to me in the limo that night?"
"Yeah," he said instantly, clutching the shift in tack for dear life.
Her eyes softened and she tilted her head, her hair brushing her shoulder and revealing the drop earring she was wearing. It sparkled, too. It matched the ring- he'd probably given it to her, he'd probably shower her with things like that. "You were right. You were completely right and I'm so grateful you fought me and pushed me. That night, I needed to be pushed."
He had the sense to know she hadn't brought this up just to thank him and he watched as she settled her hands on the edge of the table and started fiddling with the engagement ring. Turning it around her finger in careful quarter twists.
"In a couple of weeks, I'll probably- definitely- need another push. I know that about myself, I think at this point we're all aware of that about me. But, Ted..."
Looking up at her, he could feel his heart pounding, his blood rushing in his ears.
"Being afraid to risk taking it doesn't mean that I don't know what I want. I knew. I was sure."
Ted sucked in a breath, gripping the vinyl of the seat beside his knee. "I mean- I just..." he babbled helplessly.
"Look, you know how he always tells it? How it took me the longest millisecond ever recorded by science to say yes? It really was like a second. I don't even think it was that long. It was like breathing out after holding your breath for forever, it was immediate and I was so relieved- so relieved."
I don't want to hear this. "What are you saying, Robin?"
"I'm saying I've known him for eight years. Well. He is, actually, my best friend."
That made him physically start, made him sit up straight and raise his eyebrows incredulously. He wanted to argue with her and how stupid would that be, how much of a condescending idiot would that make him? Not that it would be the first time, he kind of had to admit.
"I don't need protection from..." she let the sentence slide, let him fill in the blank, not accusing him of anything. Robin was looking at her lap now, hesitating to go on but clearly feeling she needed to, "And I do love him, you were right about that too. Probably have for a lot longer than I ever realised until that exact second."
The background clatter of cutlery and clinking glasses and the hum of conversation seemed to rise up and press around him and he couldn't make himself say any of the things he wanted to say but shouldn't or any of the things he really didn't but should. A punch in the gut would be easier to shrug off than this. She was almost never frank about painful things and he was developing a belated appreciation for that quality in her.
"And, you know, for all the crap that I worry about- and I do, okay, rationally and irrationally, but that's another thing- the thing I don't worry about at all is him cheating. That is not something he would do to me, and the louder and more obnoxiously he makes cracks about it at the bar, the safer I feel. You know why?"
Ted had no idea how they got here or where they were going, had never expected her to open this can of worms. He shook his head.
"Because he's a liar. It's always surprised me how you guys don't see it. Like, you'd think you would have figured out how he works by now."
Mystified and a bit offended, Ted pulled a face at her. "I know he's… obviously, I know he lies. We'd have to be certifiably insane not to know he lies. Everyone who's ever met him can see that. What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about misdirection, Teddy. But I'm not giving you the master code if you don't know it, someone has to be on his side and it should probably be his fiancée. I just want you to know that I know. I want you to get it, because you definitely won't be up for your job if you don't."
Ted wasn't sure he did, but this was probably as straightforward a feelings talk as Robin was ever going to have with him about this and he didn't want to be the asshole here. If she thought so, maybe that's really how it was. "Okay," he said cautiously.
She pinned him with an intent gaze for an infinite moment, then let her eyes slide away. "Okay."
He should really let that be it, pretend to know exactly what she was trying to get across and let everyone move on, but he found he couldn't.
"Okay, yeah, but- just tell me why."
"Why what?"
"Don't make me say it, Robin."
"It just is," she said flatly, shrugging. Like he was questioning why the bar never had roast beef on Fridays, why the apartment still felt like home, why the sun rose in the morning. "With him, I guess I finally know myself. I am myself. He makes me feel like it's finally worth it to just go for it, even if going for it means everyone else thinks I look like a total idiot, as long as he's there looking stupid with me and I'm having fun- and I always am having fun, because he's such a lunatic he's incapable of being boring. That's the dream."
He almost had to laugh, just a little, because that was one thing about them he could absolutely see for himself; if someone was gleefully going along for the ride on Barney's crazy train, it was usually Robin. They were on their own weird wavelength, always playing little games with each other, always intriguing together. It was a bit bitter to swallow, but it was undeniable. Maybe that's what she wanted him to recognise, even if she didn't really know how to get it out. "So Hansel was right there at that party, you didn't even have to look."
The smile she smiled was preternaturally warm and glowing, but it was turned inward, towards private thoughts, no part of it for him.
"Yeah," she said, "I guess he was."
The truth was he didn't understand, he couldn't help the doubting or the moments of ugliness, but he really had to try to support the thing that made her feel like she could be Gretel. He really had to try. "I'll do my best to get you down that aisle so you can keep him, Scherbatsky. Scout's honour."
