Ted and Tracy woke up the next morning to the sound of heavy rain pounding against the bedroom window. They both figured this was the perfect invitation to just lounge in bed for a little bit longer.

So they lingered between the sheets for as long as possible, leisurely kissing and touching, up until their growling stomachs forced them to head for the kitchen to grab some breakfast.

Ted brewed some coffee while Tracy toasted up a couple of English muffins. He and his breakfast joined her and hers in their silly morning ritual which he just adored, that particular morning opting for a duet of "Suddenly Seymour". He didn't know what stick was up Lewis' butt if he couldn't appreciate this adorable, beautiful quirk of hers. Guess it was his loss... and Ted's gain.

Following a late-morning shower a deux, Ted and Tracy squeezed themselves together onto her couch, sharing her copy of the New York Times and working on the Saturday crossword together.

"45 across, three letters," Ted said. "Hawaiian instrument, for short."

"Uke," she said. "Obviously."

Ted grinned and jotted the answer down.

"46 across," he continued. "Nine letters, ends with an 's': Ancient Greek playwright, Medea. That's easy: Aeschylus."

"Uh, no," Tracy corrected him. "It's Euripides."

Ted scoffed. "I'm pretty sure it's not!"

"Babe, I'm telling you, it's not Aeschylus," she told him insistently.

"Trace," Ted began, putting down the paper and reaching for his smartphone. He started typing into the browser. "I am going to Google it, and when it says Aeschylus, boy, is you're face going—" Ted's face fell upon reading the answer.

Tracy noted the look on his face and smirked, arching an eyebrow. "So?"

"Never mind," he said, tossing his phone aside.

"That's what you get for being too cocky," she told him with a laugh, taking the paper and pencil from his lap. "And now I have control of the pencil."

"47 across," she read. "Seven letters: Actress Malin, The Wedding Bride... Omigod!"

"What?" Ted asked.

"The Wedding Bride 3 came out yesterday!" she exclaimed happily. "I can't believe I almost forgot about it!"

For his part, Ted didn't forget about it. He saw the posters plastered all across the city. He received Barney's numerous email reminders. And, against his better judgment, he watched the three exclusive clips that Entertainment Weekly had posted on their site, to see just how bad it was.

And it was bad. The time Ted got into a car accident? There was a scene where Jed's in the hospital with a broken penis, but due to an altogether different kind of accident. The time he and Stella had a heart-to-heart in her car? It was played for laughs, where Jed Mosely sobs uncontrollably in Stella's arms, begging her to at least pretend to be his girlfriend so that he could squelch rumours that he's sleeping with his best friend, Narshall. Thanks, Tony, Ted thought sarcastically as soon as he was done watching that particular clip.

"I don't know," Ted said now, looking at Tracy. "Do you really want to see it? It's getting piss-poor reviews."

"Oh, I agree: it's going to be horrible! But I just want to see how on earth they're going to stretch this story even further. Tony and Stella already got married and had their honeymoon—what's next for Jed Mosely to destroy? The suspense is killing me!"

"I don't know..." said Ted. Maybe I should just tell her, he pondered.

"Please?" she asked him, batting her eyelashes. "I will make it worth your while. Besides, this rain is perfect movie-watching weather!"

Ted sighed. He really couldn't resist her. "Okay," he said, unable to not smile at her. "Let's go." How bad could it be, after all?

This is bad, Ted thought.

He and Tracy were waiting in a long line outside the movie theatre, which was snaking around the street corner. Despite the heavy rain—it definitely felt more like fall than summer that day—people still seemed to come out in droves.

"Hmm," said Tracy, observing the line of people behind them. "This movie is not doing well critically, but methinks it's going to rake in the big bucks. Again."

Ted was trying to be game, he really was. And he wanted to join Tracy in an afternoon of merciless mocking of the film, he really did. But as he listened to the people standing in front of them quoting lines from the first movie, and making fun of Jed, he wanted to be any place but here. He couldn't stand to see his character degraded once more—and, worse, he didn't want Tracy to bear witness to it.

She seemed to notice that something was up with him.

"Babe, you ok?" she asked with concern both in her voice and her eyes. She put her hand to his cheek, then his forehead. "You look ashen—are you sick?"

Ted sighed. He really couldn't keep this hidden from Tracy any longer. She had to know this part of his life; he didn't want to keep such a big secret from her, and he figured telling her might alleviate some of the dread he was feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Sorry, can you guys save our spots, please?" he asked the couple standing behind them. They nodded, and Ted popped open the yellow umbrella, and took Tracy's hand and guided her away from the queue.

"I'm worried, Ted," she said. "Are you ok?"

"Listen," he said, and paused for a few seconds. "I've got to tell you something..."

"Is it bad?" she asked. "It's bad, isn't it?"

"Not really," he said as assuredly as he could. "It's just... something you need to know about me."

She looked up at him quizzically. "Okay..." she said with a nervous laugh.

"Remember when I told you that I was left at the altar?"

"Of course," she said, squeezing his hand again sympathetically.

"Well, Stella—that's my ex—she went back to her ex-husband, Tony." He looked into Tracy's eyes to see if she was getting it.

When she didn't seem to catch on at first, he continued: "Tony was a budding screenwriter at the time. They moved to L.A. and he pitched a script to one of the big movie studios, a story based on my and Stella's relationship." He paused. "It was called The Wedding Bride."

Tracy's eyes widened, incredulous. "C'mon, that's crazy, Ted... Jed. Mosely." He saw the realization sink in. Her hand went up to her mouth. "Omigod..."

Ted hung his head down, embarrassed. There it is, he thought.

"Honey, why didn't you say anything earlier?" she said softly, looking into his eyes. "I mean, there I was, going on and on about how much I loved the movie!"

Ted shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he admitted. "I guess I didn't want you to know that I was the inspiration behind one of AFI's 100 movie villains of all time. Please please know, I am absolutely nothing like Jed Mosely!"

Tracy smiled. "So you don't own a pair of red cowboy boots?" she asked suspiciously.

"Well, that was true. And I pulled those off, by the way."

Tracy narrowed her eyes. "Getting your penis stuck in a jar?"

Ted winced. "Ok, that happened, too," he admitted. At her curious look, he told her he'd explain later.

"The, ahem, two-minute date?"

"That was taken way out of context. It was actually way more romantic than the movie made it look."

"I don't know," she told him, trying to make light of the situation. "We've had a few "two-minute dates" of our own before work in the mornings. I think they're pretty hot." Ted couldn't help but smile at that.

Tracy's eyes then widened, and she tried to hold in a laugh as she asked, "Omigod, the tramp stamp?!"

"Alright, I admit, certain incidents in the movie were based on reality," he began. "But, overall, I'm not that guy. I'm not a narcissistic jerk who isn't in tune with his girlfriend's emotions. This movie stomped on my heart, and then made me out to look like the worst boyfriend in the world, but I don't think I'm all that bad." He paused, looking directly at her. "Right?" he asked, hopefully.

Tracy smiled sadly, stepping closer to Ted. "I know you aren't that guy, Ted," she told him in earnest, her voice warm and soothing. "Listen to me: you're sweet, you're honest, you're funny, you wear your heart on your sleeve. You look out for my needs, you make me feel safe and comfortable, and you make it so easy to be around you—to be myself around you.

"Plus, you're a good friend," she continued, adjusting the collar of his jacket. "I saw it with Marshall and Lily, and I see it with Barney and Robin. You are a good guy; the best I've had the pleasure of knowing. I'm just sad that your ex had to take your best qualities and turn them around for box office profit."

Ted gazed at her in awe, amazed at how he could tell her his biggest secret, his worst fears, and she quickly made them disappear, just like that. And she was now looking up at him lovingly, with empathy in her eyes, visibly upset at the pain this stupid movie franchise had brought him. Ted just wanted to scoop Tracy up in his arms, kiss her, and thank her simply for being her. He knew that, if their roles were reversed, if some asshole ex-boyfriend made a movie mocking her dorky, awkward nature, her silly songs, or her robot paintings, well, that guy would have an appointment with Common Sense and Reasonable Discourse. (And Karma's Gonna Get You; he had decided to name his fist, too, after punching that Darren guy.)

Ted knew he was feeling something inside him now. Something that had been brewing, he was sure, since the moment he met her, when they both realized that her beloved yellow umbrella—this plain ol' $15 umbrella—was a symbol from the universe, something tangible that was connecting the two of them together, year after year after year. It's funny how the world can seem so huge but, in the end, it's actually very, very small.

She had been his all along, he realized, and he had been hers; and, in a city of 1.6 million people, they had finally found one another. And at that very moment, Ted realized that he didn't want to ever let her out of his sight.

He looked at the few wet strands peeking out from her hat, and reached over to tuck them behind her ear. "I love you," he told her simply.

A look of relief and delight washed over her face. "I love you, too," she said without hesitation.

They leaned in for a kiss, Tracy's hands tenderly cradling the sides of his face. "I was trying to tell you last night," she whispered against his mouth, kissing him again. "With the song..."

"I got the message loud and clear," he assured her, kissing her back.

They made out on the sidewalk, not caring who was watching, hearing a smattering of whistles, applause and laughter coming from the line of moviegoers nearby. Ted and Tracy pulled apart, and looked over at the smiling crowd who seemed to be enjoying the show they were putting on. Tracy gave them a shy smile and a wave, and pressed her head to Ted's shoulder, laughing.

Ted chuckled, and whispered in her ear. "I guess we gave them our own version of a rom-com happy ending, huh?"

"Nuh-uh. This is only the beginning, Mosby," she said softly, pulling back to look up at him. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

"But the movie..."

Tracy scoffed. "Yeah. Now that I know that your ex is profiting from your heartbreak, this franchise isn't getting any money out of me ever again," she said. "Let's just go back to my place; I can think of a few things we can do instead."

"I love you," he said again, as they walked away, hand-in-hand.

She laughed happily. "I love you, too."

They walked a couple more feet. "I love you," he repeated.

Tracy shook her head but was grinning nonetheless. "So how long are you going to keep this up?" she inquired.

Ted pretended to ponder it over for a few seconds. "I say pretty much forever, give or take a few days."

Tracy beamed. "I can live with that." She paused a bit before asking, "So, is there any photographic evidence of this tramp stamp of yours? I kinda have to see it to believe it..."