Title: "Awesome Instead"
Author: Anna-Yes-Ma'am
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Summary: In the wake of Hurricane Quinn, Barney and Robin attempt to move on while retaining some semblance of their now irrevocably changed friendship. Yet neither one can quite shake their seemingly hopeless feelings for each other.
Or: Musings on Season 8 before it is Joss'd outta town.
Characters/Pairings: Barney/Robin, Barney/Quinn (extremely briefly), Robin/OC (not as briefly), and The Gang + Marvin Jr.
Spoilers: Based on A LOT of what has been said and implied about Season 8, as well as all of Season 7. You have been duly warned.
Disclaimer: If I owned HIMYM, the season 7 finale would have gone very, very differently. But, alas, it is not mine.
Author's Note:First time writer, long time reader. Totally open to constructive feedback, but be gentle to the virgin please!
...
Prologue – May 14, 2012
I'm crouched like a crow, contrasting the snow
For the agony, I'd rather know...
...
Quinn was in hell.
It was almost funny. You see, she had every reason to be ecstatic at that moment because finally all of her finagling, all of her momentum, and all of her carefully calculated planning had come to a most glorious fruition. But despite the glimmering and expensive ring perched on her left hand, she couldn't help but tap her foot impatiently against the curb in rising frustration. She felt an unfamiliar bile rise into her chest and course up to her throat, aching and scratchy and altogether unpleasant.
So actually, not really funny at all.
God, if only he would shut up for, like, a second.
"…And as the lights dim, I'll descend from the ceiling to 'Rock You Like a Hurricane' because, you know, I'm gonna rock marriage like a hurricane, up-top-you-must-bump-this!" His boyish face twisted into an obnoxious snort as he raised his clenched fist into the air.
Quinn wasn't sure if any human being had the capacity for eye rolling that Barney Stinson's presence required. It was really all she could muster in response because everything he said was so... painfully stupid. Blinking her eyes shut in exasperation, she thanked God when the cab chose that exact moment to pull up in front of MacLaren's. She easily sidestepped into the car, avoiding validating his idiotic ideas for a moment longer. Because seriously, at that point? She really had no idea if the wedding would even happen.
True, there were a lot of reasons to stay with Barney and only one to leave. But that one had the potential to nag at her for a very long time. And possibly wear one of her bridesmaids' dresses. And just be around forever with her stupid tallness and her stupid famousness and stupid pretty smile. Quinn had known she would be trouble the first time she saw her and noted how attentively the two of them avoided each other. When she initially pressed him on it, he simply smiled at her like she was crazy and explained that they were casually friends who ran in the same group and not really much more. But Quinn knew better. She had been observing Barney for years and she knew quite well that there was absolutely nothing "casual" about his interactions with one Robin Scherbatsky. And when it came out that they once dated?
Ugh.
Shaking off her growing fury, Quinn delicately slid over to the furthest corner of the seat. Maybe he would get the hint and leave her alone until she had a little bit more time to process. The day's events were slowing her normally computer speed brain into a bleary, hopeless mess. Being a stripper, she was used to all the attention firmly on her. She commanded it from all men and Barney most especially. But now she felt itchy and uncertain. She wanted no part of it.
Of course, as soon as he was in the taxi and gave the driver his (their) address, Barney insistently waved his outstretched fist in front of her face. And to that horribly annoying nuisance, Quinn rolled her eyes and shot him a sharp elbow to the ribs. She was so not in the mood.
"Barney—"
Somehow mistaking her anger for hesitancy, Barney put down his hand and wrapped his arm around her, squeezing her to him with a jangling laugh. A wide and wild grin broke across his lips, and his eyes twinkled as he gently nudged her hip.
"C'mon. I promise it'll be awesome. So then Tim Gunn will say, 'Barney, do you take this legendary woman to be your legendary wife so long as you both shall live and/or have perky breasts?' And then I'll turn to the audience and say, 'I don't know, do I?'" He stared Quinn down, rubbing his chin with a dramatic flourish and he winked devilishly at her.
She wanted to vomit all over his Armani.
"And everyone will gasp and holler and cry – Ted will, naturally, faint and Lily'll throw herself at me, screaming in joy because she didn't miss her chance-"
"You sure it's Lily you want to scream about that?" Quinn asked flatly, harshly scratching the back of her neck. It was like a wool body suit covered her skin and she just wanted to rip it off. Everything was out of sorts and her hairline was practically on fire as her anger raged on.
Caught off guard by her question, Barney's eyebrows quickly stitched together: "What? Yes, I mean… but that's not even the point—Anyway, what this is all leading up to is me silencing the crowd and then materializing a steel guitar out of thin air and saying, 'Baby,'" (He ducked his head suavely towards an imaginary crowd through the taxi partition) "'You know I do.'"
"Then POW! Above in fireworks and rocket fueled lights, the words 'HE DOES!' light up above the altar and I do several hard riffs and everyone goes wiiiiiild!" He fell back against the seat with a dreamy look on his face, pretending to play a chord on an air guitar.
Idiot.
"Then we'll make out and go find somewhere to do it. Maybe up on the altar? We know everyone wants to see a piece of the Barnacle and Big Fudge in action."
Quinn just stared at him and his stupid, waggling eyebrows. Did he always move his eyebrows around this much? Because it was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid Barney. Stupid jerk. But also, most importantly, and just so stupidly... Stupid Quinn.
A nice apartment is so not worth this crap.
Tapping her foot restlessly and silently against the air, she was becoming less and less certain that she could keep her thoughts bottled up until they got back to Tinkerbelle's Vagina. Sucking in a harsh breath and biting her tongue, she firmly crossed her arms and glared at Barney through the slits of her eyes.
"You talk a lot." She finally said, staring down at her perfectly manicured and glittery fingernails. Barney's eyes widened into his patented wounded stare and he scooched closer to her, his knee touching her thigh.
He visibly stiffened when she pulled away. Good. He should be scared.
"I'm only mostly joking," Barney chuckled nervously. "We can have a normal wedding. Or get married in Vegas or a court house or wherever. I really don't care." He looked down at his hands with a small sigh, "I just want to get married."
And then Quinn couldn't take it anymore. Against her will, her lungs let out a harsh, cold bark of a laugh and her eyes filled with fire as she smacked him as hard as she could against his arm. He was such a jerk. Such a stupid asshole of a jerk that she really wasn't even sure why she thought he would be a worthy target in the first place. She did not sign up for this.
She smacked him again.
"Owww!" Barney whimpered like an annoying man-boy, clutching himself. "Watch the suit, please. And what the hell is your problem?"
"You want to get married, huh? You just want to get married so badly." Quinn waved her hands around in the air, vaguely realizing that she probably looked like a lunatic. Screw it, though, she didn't care. She was pissed and ready to let him have it. The jerk faced jerk deserved it. Any man who had the audacity, the freaking nerve to make Quinn Garvey look like a chump? Oh, they would have it all right. Barney Stinson had no idea what was coming to him. All she needed was the trigger; just the tiniest move from him and he would be a dead man.
Barney squinted his eyes in confusion, "Uh, yeah. That's why I pro-pos-ed to you. It happened literally five hours ago. Do you have a crazy-bitch-concussion or something?"
That did it.
"Oh, I'M the CRAZY BITCH? At least I don't loooooove marriage like you looooove marriage. Marriage is your looooverrrr. Well, why don't you just MARRY MARRIAGE THEN, HUH? You stupid ass!"
Grabbing her bag, she started smacking Barney over and over again as hard as she could, ignoring his yelps and pleas for the sake of his cashmere. She was surprised to feel tears well up in her eyelids, but she was just so mad that she couldn't stop hitting him until finally, he grabbed her arms and stared into her eyes with the most bewildered and innocent look Quinn had ever seen on the man.
It took all her inner strength not to spit in his face.
"Quinn," Barney said lowly. "What's wrong?"
Readying herself, she took a deep breath and decided to level with him. She was a firm believer in all parties of a debate or battle or war being on the same page, so she at least had to offer him that. But once her side was clear, all bets were officially off.
"You want to get married." She stated, keeping her tone as even and professional as possible. "But none of it is about marrying me."
Barney cautiously let go of her arms, clearly concerned she'd start attacking him again. She raised and waved her hands in a sarcastic cease fire before crossing them tightly around her torso again, still staring daggers at his head, wishing it would explode. Ignoring this response, Barney angled himself toward her and gently touched her hair.
"Of course I want to marry you. We're awesome together. Even Lily and Marshall think so and trust me—they are pure relationship-ruining evil most of the time." Barney gave a little rueful laugh as he rubbed his hand down her shoulder.
"What does Robin think?" Quinn asked, pursing her lips and pointedly tilting her head.
Barney's hand dropped like cold lead.
"I-I'm sure she feels the same way." His face was paler and voice cracked over the last syllable before slipping back into his usual debonair manner, "I mean, the girl does have an eye for awesome."
Quinn smiled and laughed, her head tilting further down to her should as manically as she could get away with. Oh, the webs we do weave, ladies and gentleman.
"Yeah, you know, she clearly does." She giggled and squeezed Barney's hand. "At least, it seemed so during the conversation you two were just having back at Lily and Marshall's." Her eyes widened and her fingernails were digging themselves into his skin menacingly, "Running away to Canada together is certainly an awesome idea. I mean, the two of you could just go be awesome together, right?"
Barney blinked rapidly. "We were just joking. It's an inside joke."
"So let me see: The recurring joke you share with your ex-girlfriend is about how you're still in love with each other and want to be together?" Quinn clapped her hands together in mock joy. "Oh, you're right! I'm just peachy keen okay with that!"
"It's not like that!" Barney's voice practically hit falsetto notes and a slight sheen of sweat appeared on his brow, his emotive eyebrows now trembling just slightly in a delicious cocktail of panic and fear, "It's not – we're definitely not – there's no love. Love go bye-bye."
"Love go bye-bye?" Quinn arched an eyebrow incredulously, "That's your official explanation?"
"Is it hot in here?" Now his voice was nearing the level of dog whistles as he stared up at the roof of the taxi and swallowed air like a drowning man, touching the back of his hand to his forehead, neck and cheeks stiltedly and confusedly. "I think it's hot in here. Good sir! Good sir!" Barney pounded on the partition, "Please turn on the air conditioning! Also step on it, wouldja!"
"Come off it, Barney. If you really wanted to marry me, you would have been by my side while I told Marshall and Lily our engagement story." Quinn started, beginning to tick off her points on her fingers. She had a damn lot of them and she would not be interrupted. Screw Barney and Robin. The two of them deserved each other after all the crap she had seen.
"There was poop in there!" Barney firmly interjected. "Poop."
Quinn didn't miss a beat, "But instead, you chose to stay and flirt with Robin, practically begging her to convince you not to marry me. You think I'm dumb, Barney? I know I'm not a brilliant international journalist, but come on."
"That's not fair. We were just talking. I'll admit, she's my most significant ex-girlfriend, but I really didn't expect anything along those lines. Honest." Barney responded seriously, his eyes latched onto hers with a fiery determination as he tried to take Quinn's hand in his quivering palms. She sneered at the contact.
She was done.
"Yes, but that's only because you know she doesn't love you and never will. Because how could someone like Robin Scherbatsky love a sleazebag like you?"
She relished Barney slowly melting back away from her, she adored the bobbing of his Adam's apple, and languished in joy when he averted his eyes to his now obviously shaking and trembling hands. Targeting his weaknesses was surprisingly easy.
"I mean, look at yourself. You talk big game and what do you have to show for it? A dependency on Ted Mosbyof all people and a laser tag addiction." Quinn felt power rushing through her veins, venom spitting from her mouth, "You're pathetic. You're so lucky I gave you another chance, so you should know by now that there's no way Little Miss Reporter ever would."
"Stop it," Barney whispered. His eyes were rimmed red and the muscles in his jaws twitched angrily. She felt a strange surge in her stomach when she realized he was trying to blink away oncoming tears. She decided to take pity on him, despite his totally not deserving it. Atlantic City had been one thing, but this was a whole other enchilada. But still, she considered as she took in his sniffing nose and averted eyes and inherent (if generally hidden) gentility, there was no reason to completely burn bridges.
"Calm down. I'm still willing to marry you, I think. You're a funny enough guy, the sex is good, and I love the apartment."
"The apartment?" Barney was still whispering, his eyes searching the cab aimlessly. Quinn rolled her eyes. Of course he would latch onto the one part that made her sound like a monster. She swore to God, there were times when it felt like he was searching for reasons to incriminate her.
"Speaking of, we're here." Quinn said, moving swiftly past his accusatory tone and motioning to the cab driver to pull over. But as she tried stepping out of the car, Barney firmly tugged on her arm and pulled her back beside him, his features lined in dread and steel.
"Quinn." His voice was soft and he still refused to look at her, "That was – I mean – what was that?"
She just stared at him. She honestly didn't know. It had been building since she met him, since all of her suspicions about him were not only confirmed but augmented. For as long as she knew him, he acted like a typical banker douche, only with some strange vulnerabilities and quirks that made him even more nauseating than when he was just the strip club's "Legendary Dude." She had every reason to hate everything about Barney. He was exactly the kind of guy who made her life a living hell most of the time, with the unwanted gropings and lousy tips and that general sense of entitlement made her clients act like she was a glorified sex toy rather than a human. Quinn knew she wasn't a saint, but she at least tried to take the worst of them down through some form of vigilante justice and nothing felt better. That was what she tried to do with Barney, but it just became so complicated and entwined. At the core of it all, though, she never really forgot who he was and that was a jackass.
But he had positive qualities too and she wasn't expecting that. There were times when she felt like maybe she actually didwant to be with Barney and wouldn't care if he was fired the next day, losing his rather vast fortune. Sometimes after sex, she even enjoyed the feel of his arms around her or making jokes with him over coffee. And it really helped that they were planning luxurious vacations together and that he knew exactly how to spoil her. It made her wanted and safe. Hence, it genuinely bothered her that he still had feelings for Robin. In the end, she had expected that even less. But he really was handsome and charming and, of course, he was rich. With all of that in mind, it sort of made sense to feel possessive over him, even if he grated her last nerve most of the time and not in a sexy way.
So Quinn simply shrugged in response, as it was the only sincere action she could land upon.
Barney whistled out a deep breath and closed his eyes: "Just…answer me one thing, okay? And please, answer honestly because now I'm – just… Are you marrying me because you love me?"
His hurt, hopeful eyes finally met hers. She had to admit they held a lot of promise. She always knew he would give her everything, so long as she declared everlasting devotion and now was her chance. And she certainly had affection for the man, albeit in an non-traditional sort of way. But love? Shit. She wasn't even sure she knew what that was. But it certainly wasn't what she felt for him and it certainly wasn't what he felt for her. This was the first time it even seemed to matter to him, though, and that was annoying.
Naturally, she considered lying. "I love you with all my heart, Barney Stinson." It would be especially apropos, considering how much he had clearly lied to her – the man was hopelessly in love with another woman and Quinn was clearly some sort of rebound. And it was symbiotic, which was the important part. The apartment, the lifestyle, the sex… she could certainly live in Barney Stinson's devotion, even if he actually wanted to shower it on someone else, given the chance.
But ultimately, that wasn't her M.O.
Even The Stripper Girlfriend had a conscience. And, like, dignity.
See, Quinn had no ethical qualms with deceiving men who knew they were being deceived. Most men at the strip club wanted to feel hot and desired by a woman who they knew very well would call a bouncer over if they went too far. It was all part of the game. But Barney was a different beast. He was willfully ignorant. He didn't want to know, even when he had to. And this time, he had to.
(Plus, she was smokin' hot – she deserved a sugar daddy who didn't want to play house and sleep with his ex-girlfriend.)
"Barney, this relationship is nice and it's hot and it's convenient. But I don't really know you. I certainly don't know if I'll ever love you, especially since you're actually in love with Robin." Barney flinched at that, but at least didn't try to refute her. "But I think we'll work well together. We'll both get what we want."
"You want my money." Barney responded matter-of-factly, his eyes darkening and the trembling in his hands increasing.
"And your body?" She half-joked. Barney didn't laugh.
Sighing, she tugged at him, suddenly regretting bringing the topic up at all. What was it people said about gift horses and mouths? Because obviously she shouldn't have done that. They really would work well together. And Hawaii was still waiting.
"Look, do you want to start planning a wedding or what? It could be fun. That's what matters, right?"
Barney looked ahead at the running meter and the annoyed driver. The torment on his face smoothed out and he turned back to her with blank eyes, suddenly and deceptively calm and self-assured.
"I'm going to have this good fellow take me to a bar for the next hour. When I get back, I expect you and your mugs will be gone." A beat. "Please."
Quinn heaved a knowing sigh and nodded, "I can pay you back for the renovation."
Barney waved her off and laughed humorlessly. "Consider it a retroactive engagement present."
Closing the door, Quinn stepped around the cab and onto the curb, ignoring the pricking feeling behind her eyes and the heaviness in her heart. It was all for the best. It's not like Barney was her last chance or anything. And as she turned around to take a last look at her once-fiancé, she watched the car begin to drive away and couldn't help but see Barney finally break down and clutch his face in his hands, his back heaving with labored sobs. A pang of pity hit her heart and for a brief second, she wished she had lied just to keep him happy.
But she wouldn't have made him happy. And he wasn't crying for her. Not really. He never would.
Overwhelmed by the last few hours that felt like both centuries and seconds, Quinn ran her fingers through her hair and turned into Barney Stinson's lobby for the very last time.