So I've had a crappy 24 hours, and needed a bit of T/T fluff to make myself feel better. It's short and sweet, and I hope you all enjoy.
Tracy sighed happily as she walked up to Ted's apartment door. It had been a long day at her internship—heck, a long week—and she admittedly was watching the clock for 5pm to finally roll around.
She'd somehow survived the smelly, cramped, sweaty ride on the 7 train, making it to Ted's building by 6. Tracy knocked on his door and he greeted her with a smile; he seemed happy. And clean. Which made sense, since the university was just a stone's throw from his place. Unlike she who, after her subway commute, just wanted to jump in the shower.
But first: a kiss hello, and a straight beeline for the couch. Tracy practically catapulted herself onto the soft furniture, in that moment loving the excess of throw pillows he had.
"Babe, can you turn on the A/C, please?" she mumbled into a pillow.
Ted just chuckled. "Don't get too comfortable there," he warned playfully. "Because we're heading to the MoMa in a bit."
Tracy groaned at that. "What? Why?"
"There's the Le Corbusier exhibit going on right now," he explained, barely able to contain his excitement. "I thought it'd be fun!" Modern architecture, urban planning. It was an architecture nerd's wet dream, she thought, amused.
She lifted her head to look at him. "Hon, it's been a long day. All I had in mind for this evening was to take a cold shower and sit on this here couch wearing practically nothing." It was hot as hell, after all.
"As tempting as that sounds," he admitted after a contemplative pause, "I think our Friday night will be better spent at the museum. C'mon, we'll go and grab a bite to eat first."
Tracy sighed. She knew she shouldn't complain. Their summer together had so far been wonderful; probably the best in a very long time. She loved spending time with Ted and making new memories with him. From drinks on outdoor patios to long strolls in the park to Sundays at the beach, it had been a pretty blissful few months.
However, Ted had gotten pretty intense these past couple of weeks. Every night, it seemed there was somewhere he wanted them to go. A new restaurant. An outdoor movie at Bryant Park. The occasional concert. Shakespeare in the Park... She tried to say "no" on occasion, but often couldn't help but succumb to Ted's glee over each chosen activity. It was admittedly infectious. Exhausting, but infectious.
However fun these activities were, though, Tracy hadn't had the chance to just come home and do nothing in what felt like a long time. And with the band playing another wedding gig the following evening, she really needed that Friday night to simply decompress, before Monday morning arrived all too swiftly.
"I know you want to check it out, but can the museum maybe wait for another day?" she asked hopefully.
He laughed and reached out his arm, urging for her hand. "Nope, I need to get you off this couch."
Tracy shooed away his hand and clutched the arm of the sofa instead. "But it's so comfortable! Please, let's just stay here. I'll make it worth your while!" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
His eyes widened and he then proceeded to wag his index finger. "Oh no! I fell for your womanly wiles last time, and we missed stargazing over at the High Line. That's not gonna happen again. Let's go!"
"But, Ted," she said, practically whimpering now. "I'm exhausted. We've been out practically every night this week. Can't we just stay in?"
He shook his head sternly. "No, we can't, Trace."
Tracy was confused now, and slightly annoyed. "But why? I don't get why it's so damn important we have to go tonight."
Ted was slightly taken aback by the rise in her voice, relenting a little bit, trying to give a little bit of explanation. "Because I can't let you sit on this couch, ok?" he admitted. "I want more for you."
She stared at him softly, curiously. "Ted... What on earth is all this about?"
He sighed now, finally ready to give her a little bit more, she noticed. "It's just, from what you told me, you spent years after Max died just... sitting on the couch. You spent a good chunk of your twenties stuck in your apartment, and I want to, I don't know, help you make up for all that lost time."
Tracy took in his words, not realizing that he had really taken her past and analyzed it to this extent. Yes, that was a low point in her life, mourning a deep loss and too afraid to move forward, having basically put her existence on pause. But she was in such a better place right now and she needed him to know that—and she knew he knew that—although she was admittedly touched by his concern. "Babe..." she began.
"I know, it's stupid," he said, looking a bit embarassed. He shrugged his shoulders helplessly, looking down at his fingers. "But I just want to make sure you have reason to get off the sofa every night, you know?"
Tracy smiled sadly. "Ted, c'mere," she told him, sitting up now and patting the spot next to her. He sat down dutifully. "I've worked hard to make sure I pulled myself up from that time in my life. And I never want to go back."
She wasn't that girl anymore; she couldn't be. Back then, she felt as if there weren't that many reasons for her to get out of bed in the mornings. But slowly, with time, Tracy realized she already had a lot going for her, and so much more that was likely ahead. She had her family, good friends. And now, a career she hoped would be fulfilling and allow her to bring forth some change in the world; as well as, of course, a loving and supportive boyfriend.
Tracy didn't need the couch to be her security blanket anymore. However, she did want it to be what it was made for: a calming, comfortable spot that would offer respite and refuge from the world outside. And, preferably, with Ted always sitting by her side.
"Yes, my couch was lonely," she continued, taking his hand and lacing her fingers with his. "But that's because there was no one sitting there next to me."
Realization set in, Ted's eyes growing soft, followed by a slow nod of his head. She knew he understood; he seemed apologetic, but also slightly amused at his slightly crazy (but well-meaning) behavior.
"So... I pretty much took the couch thing too literally, huh?" he asked softly, a small smile on his lips.
Tracy laughed heartily and leaned down to kiss the back of his hand, connected to hers, grateful for his love and concern, no matter how out-of-hand it could get at times. "You did, but God, I still love you for it," she said. "And you know I'd love to go to the museum with you—I'd go anywhere you want me to. Just... let's give ourselves a break once in a while. What do you say?"
He smiled and nodded his head, accepting her suggestion. "Deal," he murmured, then gave her a slow, lingering kiss, expressing both his love and his regret. "Why don't you go take that shower you've been talking about. And I'll order us a pizza and break open a bottle of red. How does that sound?"
She beamed. Because she knew, she would follow Ted Mosby to the ends of the earth, no questions asked. But right at that moment, sitting on that sofa, spending a warm Friday night in August tucked away indoors, there was nowhere else she'd rather be.
"Sounds perfect."
THE END