Title: A Long Night
Author: OboeShoes
Fandom: HIMYM
Pairings/Characters: Barney, Robin
Ratings/Warnings: PG–13 for language
Wordcount: 550-ish
Summary: On LJ, 'roland44' tossed out this prompt:
Use the following dialogue (either directly as dialogue or in a narrative form..) in a drabble/short story/fic with any characters/fandoms you wish:
"It's killing me that I can get this close to you, but not get any closer."
So here ya go!
Note: Reposted from LJ, username oboeshoes
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"It's killing me that I can get this close to you, but not get any closer." Barney slammed the butt of his shotgun against the jammed lock. No dice. A siren blared somewhere nearby. "Oh fuck it, I'm gonna be surrounded in a few seconds."
"I know," Robin's voice was tight with frustration, trying to open the door from the other side.
"This isn't working. They're getting closer. Fucking shithead bitchface!"
"Keep it together, Stinson! We can get through this!"
He tried the door a few more times, frantically searching for a means to open it. Nothing. All of the possibilities were exhausted. He shook his head with a defeated sigh. "No. No, we can't. It's over. Get out, just get to the chopper. It's here, can't you hear it? Don't be a hero, Scherbatsky," he added, but it sounded wrong. This was not laser tag.
The whirr of chopper blades could be heard faintly over the increasing volume of feral shrieks. Barney checked his weapons and ammo. He was nearly out, except for… He futilely tried the door one last time then lit the remaining bombs he carried. If he had to go down, he would go down on his own terms.
"Go!"
Bitterly, Robin turned away from the door and fled to the empty roof. The helicopter swooped low over the rooftop, armed gunmen inside covering her retreat from the building. She made a mad leap for the airship just as it pulled away to gain altitude.
Seconds later, the top of the building where she'd been exploded.
With aggravated groans Robin and Barney flung themselves backwards onto the couch, letting their XBox controllers fall to their sides. The top of the building on the television screen blew to smithereens barely milliseconds after the helicopter cleared the blast zone. Barney yanked off his headset and tossed it aside before wiping his forearm across his brow. First-person shooter games could be intense.
His nose wrinkled in distaste. "Why is it that when we play No Mercy, one of us always gets left behind?"
"I'm not the one that cornered that third Tank solo for extra points."
"How was I supposed to know there was a witch hidden in the far corner?!"
"This is why we can't have nice things," she scoffed. "Oh, hey look, the stats."
They watched the credits roll, poking fun at their incredibly close scores. This was the third Left4Dead marathon they'd had since Robin moved in with Ted. The absence of Lily and Marshall smacking down a 'quiet hour' meant the three of them often gamed into the wee hours of the morning when otherwise unoccupied. In this particular session Ted Tedded-out some time around 2AM and went to bed. Barney and Robin continued to blow up zombies XBox-style.
"What time is it, anyways?"
Barney grabbed his suit jacket that was draped over the arm of the sofa and fished out his iPhone. "Ehhh… 6:17."
Robin stood and raised her arms towards the ceiling, arching her back in a vertebrae-cracking stretch when her stomach growled aggressively. Food was sometimes ignored in a long night of digital violence. "Hmm… Coffee and waffles at Addie's Waffle Nook?"
"Only if there's alcohol."
"This early?" Actually, the idea didn't seem so bad. "Meh. Okay. Booze in which one?"
"Hah, please."