"Daddy, where do babies come from?" The bright-eyed seven year-old asked.
Barney Stinson choked on his morning coffee, the scalding liquid burning his throat as he tried to recover from the shock of the question. "Why don't you go ask your mother?" He said, still coughing a bit.
"I did. Mom said to ask you. She said you'd know better than anyone else."
Barney rolled his eyes. Robin was always jokingly giving him a hard time about his bed-hopping before they'd gotten together. But, when it came down to it, Barney hadn't known as much about sex as he'd always let on. He thought he had, but then he'd slept with Robin for the first time. With her, it'd always been different, there was something else. Barney had felt something that time, and every time after, making each time a new experience, something he'd never done before. The roller coaster of emotions made him feel new and inexperienced every time. Even now, after eleven years of marriage, he was still a little helpless. But that was OK; how it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be filled with butterflies, giddiness, and love. Love was important.
He pulled his daughter into his lap and said, "Babies come from love. It's that simple." The little girl giggled and smiled in a way that was so Robin.
"That means you and Mommy love each other!" She cried in a musical voice.
Barney laughed and nodded. "You bet. Up top!" He raised his hand and received a high-five from the tiny, feminine hand.
"Where does my name come from, then?" She asked, cocking her head. Barney laughed again; the little one was as scatter-brained as he was. The truth was, he and Robin loved telling the story of their daughter's name more than the story of how they became a couple.
Robin had never believed in miracles, not even after Barney had survived the bus accident three years after they'd become friends, and she had continued to disbelieve for several years after. Barney had never pushed for her to believe, even though he'd felt it was nothing short of divine intervention that he had been able to live to tell the tale. But, it had all changed three years into their marriage. They had decided it was time to raise a family; as much as Robin denied her maternal instincts across the years, they were suddenly exploding out of her. But, the doctors only reinforced the fact that Robin was infertile. So they tried adoption. A year of complications, obstacles, and other problems passed, and the two had given up hope. They decided just to stick to being Aunt Robin and Uncle Barney for the rest of their lives. But then the doctor announced to Robin that she was pregnant; a medical miracle. She believed then that miracles do happen, and the couple had been lucky enough to receive one.
"Angel," Barney said, brushing away a brown curl that she'd gotten from Robin and looked into the crystalline blue eyes she'd gotten from him, "you're named for exactly what you are: an angel sent to a couple who'd given up all hope."
Angel smiled and put her tiny arms around her father's neck, burying her face into the chest of his suit. "I love you, Daddy." She said into the white shirt.
"I love you, too." Barney said, planting a kiss in her brunette hair.
Robin, who had been listening the whole time, came in from the kitchen and pulled up a chair next to her husband. She gave him a kiss, then laid her head on his shoulder. Barney wrapped his arms around the two most important women in his life and held them tight; anchoring his two miracles to the love he'd promised.