Showing Them How It's Done
They're getting married in thirty-five days.
The plans are all set now. Everything is in place, but Lily – still proclaiming herself chief wedding planner; Ted can just suck it – insists that every last detail be perfect, including the dancing at the reception.
And that's how they're all here at a Manhattan dance studio, wasting a Saturday afternoon in a one-time session. Marshall stepped in to play the role of her father while Robin rehearsed the father-daughter dance, and at the moment she and Barney are practicing their first dance as husband and wife while the others look on.
"Don't even bothering complaining," Robin says to him in hushed tones as he leads her in the dance. "Lily won't let us out of this no matter what we say….And I do want us to look good."
"We always look good," Barney replies. "Separately, we're stunning; together, we're a knock-out."
"True."
"And who's complaining? You know I love dancing with you."
Robin smiles. "We are amazing at it," she agrees. "Always have been, from the very beginning."
"Well, we've got the right rhythm," he grins.
She nods because that is true too. People say dancing and sex are closely linked; if you're good at one then you're good at the other. They excel at both.
"And not just in bed," he continues, "or on the couch, or in the shower, or on the floor, or against the door, or – "
"Barney, if you're gonna name every place we've ever done it we'll be here all night."
"Excellent. We can add one more place." She giggles softly and he tightens his hold on her reflexively. "The point is in the past eight years that we've know each other there hasn't been a wedding or formal event where we didn't show them all how it's done out on the dance floor."
"That's true. It's kind of been our thing." She thinks back on it and starts listing them all. "Marshall and Lily's wedding, James and Tom's wedding, Punchy's wedding. Even Virginia and Clint's wedding."
"And there was the time at Stuart and Claudia's second wedding."
"It's not called that," Robin laughs, shaking her head at him. "We've been over this." He never changes, and she doesn't ever want him to. "But that time was just for us." She moves her hand that's cradled in his to lace their fingers together, even if it is improper form, as they both remember that night.
It was late spring of 2009. Right after Ted had been offered his position at Columbia. Right after Lily regained her sense of humor and joined the group again. Right before Barney and Robin entered into a secret and highly undefined relationship.
By then the whole gang except Robin knew that Barney was in love with her, but they'd sat back for a year and watched him do nothing about it. In their eyes it didn't make much sense why he suddenly had the courage to go for it after all that time, but then very little about Barney and Robin's relationship has ever made sense to them. They just know it's love, and that's all that matters. Of course their friends don't know about what happened that night….
****2009****
After successfully completing his treatment and emerging a card-carrying member of AA, Stuart and Claudia's marriage is better than ever; they're even going to try for a baby. So they've decided to renew their vows, which in Barney's mind is just an excuse to trap their friends into attending this ridiculous second wedding – and second wedding reception – to rope them into bringing hordes of second wedding gifts.
To make matters worse, because of Stuart's alcoholism the reception at this 'second wedding' is a completely dry one. He can't get drunk and there aren't even any bridesmaid's this time around, so what on earth is the point?
But Robin's there and that's all he needs to have a good time. And it doesn't hurt that he has a flask hidden in his pocket that he shares with her as the night wears on.
A half an hour in, sitting there chit-chatting with the others, Barney decides he's had enough of that and makes up a game for him and Robin to play. It's an entertaining way to pass the time and a convenient means of getting her all to himself. The way it works is like this: they have to steal something from every table and whoever has the most impressive stash, or whoever goes the longest without getting caught, wins.
They case the joint and sneak around, laughing and competing and doing I'm watching you gestures across the room, and on several occasions they team up to wingman the heist and divert attention off the other even though it totally breaks the rules of the game.
After an hour they meet up in a back hallway behind a door marked 'For Staff Only' to compare their hauls. They have a pack of gum, a lighter, a compact, a silk wrap, a jeweled hair clip, a fifty dollar bill, two pairs of glasses – both reading and sun – and someone's entire clutch purse. But Barney has the pièce de résistance: a set of false teeth.
"How did you manage that?" Robin marvels.
"I did a magic trick that ended in one of my patented fireballs. Surprised the dude so much his teeth feel out. Then I just grabbed 'em and ran."
"You did not," she gapes.
"I did."
"Well you definitely win." She looks down at their haul. "We are gonna give this stuff back, right?"
He makes a noncommittal noise, shrugging, and Robin laughs. "I can't believe you talked me into this."
"I am the master of persuasion," he boasts, straightening the knot of this tie. "There's nothing I couldn't talk you into."
"Is that right?"
"Barney Stinson always gets the yes," he guarantees, full of swagger and bravado and the audaciousness she's forever found so attractive in him.
And the hallway is abruptly flooded with a thick sexual tension, the space between them all at once charged and crackling with electric heat.
Robin eventually breaks the silence to whisper, "I will kill you if you ever repeat these words – and, for the record, I never said it – but I am absolutely sure you're right."
He makes a clicking noise with his tongue, nodding at her, cocky. "See? I even get the 'yes' about getting the 'yes'." Before she has a chance to respond, he grabs her hand and is pulling her towards the door. "Come on, Scherbatsky, let's get back out there. We still have the whole other side of the room to hit."
Robin follows eagerly after him despite the sheer absurdity of what they're doing because the bottom line is being with him makes her happy; it always has. "What is this power you have over me?" she wonders aloud. "I think you might be Satan."
"Nah. You just like having fun."
"Maybe."
"And you love having fun with me." When she doesn't dispute the claim, his eyebrow lifts and he grins devilishly. "I'll show you fun, Robin. We can have a lot of fun together. Repeatedly," Barney promises suggestively.
She tells herself it's just his usual lechery. It's second nature to him, that's all. And he proves as much a second later when he effortlessly slips out of it and back into crazy Bro-ing Out Barney.
"But we'll save that for later. Right now there's thievery afoot," he exclaims, tugging her back out into the reception hall.
The problem Robin can't seem to solve is, even if it is just Barney's usual lechery, why does it affect her so much?
But they manage to successfully hit the second half of the room. Robin wins this time around with her trophy piece, a condom she swipes out of some guy's suit coat when he takes it off to go dance unencumbered.
After that, Barney and Robin show up the room in an impromptu dance routine of their own. And sometime mid-reception they sneak into the kitchen and talk a staff member into refilling Barney's flask – he's right; he can talk anyone into anything, and luck is on their side because the staffer in question is a woman. Then they run out of things to do and end up alone outside on the patio.
"This has got to be the lamest second wedding ever," Barney grouses. "Or any wedding, period."
"I told you, it's not called a 'second wedding'. It's a recommitment ceremony." Robin pauses, waiting for the crack that's sure to come, but she's met with only silence. "What? No jokes about why on earth would anyone commit in the first place and then turn around and make that same mistake again – with the same woman?"
"No," Barney confirms, "no jokes. I told you, I'm not always 'that' guy." After a pause, he quietly adds, "Commitment works for some people."
She feigns shock, gasping, "What a revelation." She extends her hand. "Hi, my name's Robin. Do I know you?" Rather than playing along, however, he looks away, and she thinks she can detect a touch of hurt in his expression. "But I know that's not entirely fair," Robin amends, gently setting her hand on his arm. "I am talking to the man who legally married two of our friends. I'm on to you, Stinson. This whole 'all marriage and commitment is a drag' thing, it's one big act, isn't it? Underneath it all you're just a softy."
Barney opens his mouth and Robin can tell from the look on his face that he's about to make a lewd comment to the contrary. She laughs, "No. Nope. It's rescinded. My mistake. You are not 'a softy'."
"Definitely not," he concurs, taking a swing from his flask and passing it to her to do the same.
Even out on the patio the music is load enough to get Robin's head swaying in time to the beat and she's itching to whirl around with him some more in a perfectly innocent manner that happens to allow them to put their hands all over each other. "Let's go back inside and show them how it's done again," she suggests as he puts the flask back into his pocket.
"We do own that dance floor." They Top Gun high-five and then he holds his hand out to her to walk back inside, but a slow song comes on – the opening strains of Phil Collin's "Groovy Kind of Love".
Barney hesitates, suddenly awkward. Part of him is afraid of what he'll do in a slow dance with Robin. Another part of him knows he should be recoiling at a lame, romantic slow dance at all. The largest part of him wants that slow, romantic dance anyway. But he knows his role and he plays it, making the expected joke to cut the tension. "See, this is why you always hire a band, not a DJ," he grimaces. "You'd never see a DJ at a wedding of mine."
"Excuse me?" Robin asks in playful shock. "A wedding of yours?"
"Hypothetically speaking, of course," Barney rushes to correct.
"Of course," she agrees, but she steps closer to him. "So….are we doing this?" He looks at her, confused. "I thought we were dancing. Owning the floor. Or the patio in this case."
He's a bit taken aback that she isn't the least bit put off by the slow song herself, but she isn't. She keeps closing the distance between them, forgetting the dance floor entirely and wanting to dance with him out here alone instead. But there's a huge flaw in her proposal and he has to point it out to her, has to see what she'll say. "I thought what you wanted was to 'show them how it's done'. There's no one to see us out here, Robin."
She just smiles coyly as she steps closer still. "Are you gonna dance with me or not?"
Barney returns her soft smile, looking down at Robin with the tender, open expression he only gets with her. "I'm gonna dance with you," he says, pulling her into him.
It starts out formally, but she's close and warm and soft in his arms and that's enough. To his surprise, she is the one who removes all traces of formality, inching in until he can feel all the curves of her body, until they're too close to even look in each other's eyes.
Robin can feel Barney's breath near her ear, hot on her neck. Being held so intimately by him feels incredible. He's hard in all the places she's soft. Sometimes she forgets how much he works out. He's built lean, yes, but underneath it is all hard muscle, just the way she likes it. He has hidden strength. She remembers the one time they slept together the ease with which he rolled her around, changing positions, his muscles clenching appealingly beneath her hands, making her want to touch him all the more.
Right now, they're cheek-to-cheek and she's rubbing her check softly against his. It's wrong. To someone as perceptive as Barney even this little slip-up is too revealing. She's showing her hand, that she wants him. But she can't resist. It feels too good being in his arms this way. As inconvenient, ill-timed, and dangerous as their sex a year ago had been, she has never forgotten how amazing it was. And every part of her wants that again. She wants to rub herself all over him like a kitten. He strokes his hand over her bare back and she actually shivers. She's flushed and throbbing in all the right places. Her body is screaming for him, wanting nothing more than to go home with him tonight, mistake or not. And the terrifying part is that her heart wants it to. Her heart has been wanting him – not just the body and the hard muscles and all that they can do, but him, Barney, the whole package – for far longer than she dares to admit.
Right now in the darkness, when he's holding her and she wants him, she can't fight it any longer. Robin gives in to feeling. Chemistry takes over and she soon escalates, rather than rubbing her cheek against him letting the side of her mouth skim over his jaw line now.
Barney feels Robin's lips brushing over his skin and it seems like a fairly open invitation to something more. With any other girl he'd already be kissing her right now, but this is Robin and what if he's mistaking her signals? But then she wraps her arms around him more tightly, nestling in even closer against him until they're pressed together everywhere possible from shoulders to knees, barely even moving in the dance anymore. There's no way to misinterpret this.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first – still testing the waters – Barney turns his face towards Robin's, his lips moving steadily closer to hers. The corner of his mouth is just contacting hers when Lily walks out.
"Hey, I've been looking everywhere for – " She cuts off at the picture she's greeted with. Barney and Robin are frozen in the intimate pose, neither one of them wanting to move and create so much as an inch of space between them, still just holding the dance position – although very few people dance that way outside of the bedroom. And as Lily points out to them, "The music stopped." At that, they jump back away from each other, guilty, like they've been caught red-handed.
But while Lily looks back and forth between them, explaining that the dancing is over and Ted's about to start the speeches, their eyes meet and hold and Barney knows he isn't misunderstanding the open wanting he sees in Robin's.
An hour later they're sitting at their table, alone again because the others have gone off somewhere; they didn't pay enough attention to know where. Their chairs are pulled far closer together than is necessary but they blame it on the proximity needed to surreptitiously keep passing the flask, which they do. As she's handing it back to him her fingers linger over his for several seconds too long to be natural or simply a mistake.
The thing is Barney Stinson always does get the yes. He is a master persuader. And right now Robin's giving out every signal imaginable that she wants to be persuaded. She's open to being seduced by him. She's encouraging it even. He's spent a whole year and charts and diagrams racking his brain for a way to be with her again. Turns out maybe it doesn't take getting her drunk or punching himself in the eye. Maybe all it takes is being himself. Maybe all he has to do is put it out there straightforward, just come on to her and it will happen on its own.
"You haven't touched your cake," he comments and Robin glances down at it. It's coconut with a white frosting. The quintessential wedding cake, light and airy with a cream filling, and it looks delicious. But as an on-air personality and life-long hot girl she watches her diet and she already sampled – and by sampled she means ate half of – Barney's lemon cake while waiting for hers to arrive.
Barney nudges the plate over to him and takes a bite. "Unbelievable." And he's not just saying that for effect as part of the move he's about to make. It really is that good. He should get the name of this baker. "You've got to try this. C'mon, Scherbatsky," he tempts. "Be a little bad tonight. It'll be worth it."
Robin doesn't miss his cue. He's clearly talking about more than just cake. His eyes twinkle and lure her, beckoning her to step into his web because sex is fun; the way they do it it's positively mind-blowing.
He cuts off a bite but puts down the fork, picking it up with his fingers and offering it to her, a clear challenge on his face. Do you dare to say 'yes'? Can you even say 'no'? "I promise it'll melt on your tongue."
When he talks to her this way, when he looks at her this way, she doesn't stand a chance and she knows it. He holds the confection up to her lips and this temptation is too irresistible to withstand any longer. She opens for him, letting him slip inside.
The moment he feels the warm moisture of her mouth on his fingers as she samples the cake it's all he can do to keep from grabbing her then and there in front of everyone. She closes her eyes and lets out some kind of soft, orgasmic moan and he can't tell how much of it is real or if some of it might be for his benefit, but it doesn't matter; he's enjoying everything about it.
"Ohhh, that is unquestionably the best I've ever had." She darts her tongue out, drawing his finger into her mouth again and sucking the remaining frosting from it.
Barney goes absolutely still, staring at her. Seeing his expression, Robin remembers herself and her cheeks color pink. She really hadn't meant it to be sexual. The cake was simply that amazing. But, unconsciously or not, she just sucked his finger in a public reception hall. That's got to be crossing some kind of line. "Sorry."
He shakes his head, dazed. "Do not apologize." His eyes turn mischievous and teasing and she knows something inappropriate but wholly Barney is about to come out of his mouth. "You can lick me anytime you want."
She smiles helplessly, which is her reaction to him 99% of the time, and shakes her head in amusement.
When her laughter melts away they just keep looking at each other and the moment draws out, heady and full of possibility. "Robin," Barney finally speaks up, all that bravado gone now, replaced with tentativeness and even a touch of detectable nervousness. "I….."
He wants to say, 'I'm in love with you. I don't know how or when it happened, but there it is. I love you. I love everything about you. And I need to be with you, even if nothing has ever scared me more.'
Robin is still holding his gaze, open and receptive with an edge of curiosity, and he wants to say all of those things but the possibility that this time Barney Stinson might get the 'no' locks his jaw and keeps those feelings from passing his lips. But it doesn't keep him from making a pass. That at least he knows. "Do you want to get out – " Before he can finish the invitation of leaving with him, taking her back to his apartment where one thing can lead to the other and he might not have her heart but at least he can have her body, Ted walks up to the table cutting him off.
"I'm on my way out, Robin. We're gonna split a cab, right?"
Robin looks away from Barney, gathering her composure along with her purse. "Um, yeah. Sure." Nothing else makes sense.
Barney tries to quell the immediate hurt and jealousy that smack him in the face. They're roommates. Of course she'd take a cab back with Ted when they're both going to the same place. He'd just really hoped the two of them could've been going back to the same place tonight.
Ted walks back out to the lobby but Robin pauses after only a few steps and turns back to him because she's not ready to let go yet either. "Barney?" She motions to him. "Are you coming?"
He smiles softly. She's waiting for him. Maybe she's been waiting for him all this time. Even petrified, he can't pass up an opportunity this golden, this perfect in every possible way. He smirks. "I will be coming, if you give me a hand."
She tilts her head at him, shooting him a look and a smile that reads, Really?
"Or, actually, two hands would be best, cause I got a lot going on down there." He pauses, hitting her with his most charming, devilish look. "Well, you know." It's a direct hit. He can tell she's picturing it now, remembering how she does know intimately. "Let's get out of here," he says, offering one last, "Lame", as they walk out of the building.
****2009****
The next day Barney went to Ted and asked his permission to 'buy the suit'. Within the week they were taking that leap together, and by the following afternoon they were sleeping together repeatedly and consistently, which turned into a relationship all on its own.
The slow love song Barney and Robin are dancing to slowly fades away and they stop to look at each other, both of them caught up in that same memory and how far they've come since then – though Barney did track down that baker; she's making their wedding cake. Mutually, they lean in to share a tender kiss. "The things that dancing gets us," Robin smiles.
Barney starts to respond but then an upbeat song comes on and the others stop watching them and start goofing off and dancing along too. The dance floor is soon crowded, despite Marshall's raging dancer's hip – and Lily doesn't even try to stop him; she just joins him instead.
The feeling is contagious and Robin and Barney are already bubbling over with happiness as it is. He whirls her into something fast and flirty and fun, like their "Groove Is in the Heart" routine, while Justin Timberlake sings about how everything in life is perfect so long as he's got his suit and tie and his girl by his side, and Robin can't stop grinning. Midway through a twirl she tells him, "You know this song was written for you, right?"
"Then go on and show 'em who you call daddy," Barney winks, singing along.
Robin giggles at that and it's by far the best music to his ears. "Idiot," she laughs as she spins back into his arms.