I close my eyes, I look away
That's just because I'm not okay

November 2009

"Hey," Lily greets Robin, letting herself into the apartment.

Walking out from the kitchen, she calls back a 'hey' of her own.

Lily cocks her head to the side, studying her friend with a long measuring once-over. "What?"

Robin gives her a funny look, plopping down on the couch. "What-what?"

"Something's up with you," Lily declares. "I can tell by the look on your face. Spill it."

"It's – it's nothing. Nothing," Robin casually dismisses, turning her attention to fiddling with a throw pillow.

Lily narrows her eyes in keen observation. "Mmm-mmm. Nope. Not buying it. It's definitely something. What?"

When the silence extends to an unnatural length, neither woman relenting, Robin blows out a heavy sigh. "Fine. It's…..it's just…"

"Just what?" Lily prompts. It isn't like Robin to beat around the bush about anything, and she's starting to get the feeling she's about to hear something truly juicy.

"I got my period today," Robin finally blurts.

Lily stares at her, confused. "Congratulations? I really haven't celebrated mine since I was twelve," she teases, "but if you want to – "

"No," Robin smiles. "No, I…..I was late…I thought maybe…"

"Oh. Oh." Lily's eyes grow wide and her mouth gapes open as the full implication of what Robin said – or, really hadn't said – sinks in. This is the time when a woman truly needs her best girlfriend, and she's about to say something wise and comforting, really she is, but her mind goes off on a tangent of its own and she can't resist. "Can you imagine having a Stinson spawn? The kid would have to fight its own father for breastfeeding time!"

Robin laughs along, but Lily senses something dark behind it and reins herself in. "But seriously, I thought you'd been acting strange this past week. You really dodged a bullet there, huh?"

"Yeah. Right. Definitely."

Robin can't explain this little twinge of sadness. She hates this little twinge of sadness. It makes her feel silly and weak. She's smart enough to know it would have been a disaster – especially now that they've broken up. And, besides, it's not like she wanted Barney's baby. She doesn't want kids at all. Okay, maybe possibly someday way down the road, before all her eggs dry up, she might potentially consider it. But now? Now would be crazy. Now would get in the way of all of her plans. So she can't understand this small feeling of loss.

But then she remembers the look on his face the night before when for one self-torturing moment she glanced over on her way out of the bar as he hit on some girl. That's when she realizes that maybe this bittersweet feeling has nothing to do with babies at all. Maybe it just represents the very last part of him, that very last connection, slipping away from her. She doesn't know.

One thing she does know, now that she's in the clear, there's a very tall glass of scotch down at MacLaren's with her name on it.