I love the brief scene when B/R dance together in 5.06 Bagpipes, and when I realised that the episode aired the same week as Bon Jovi's The Circle was released, I knew I had to write something.
Show and characters belong to CBS etc, song lyrics belong to Bon Jovi.
Superman Tonight
Barney clatters into MacLaren's, barging past tables towards the booth. Despite their recent arguing, Robin can't help the butterflies; he's ridiculous.
"What," Barney announces excitedly, "Is my second favourite thing with the initials BJ?"
He shoots a dirty glance at Robin and she can't help but smirk.
"Blackjack?" she guesses.
He shakes his head.
"Ben & Jerry's?" suggests Lily.
"Also a possibility- but no,"
"Bond, James," says Ted.
"Another good one; another no,"
"Bridget Jones?" shrugs Marshall, running out of ideas.
Barney gives him a look, "Marshall, please,"
"Bridget Jones rules," Marshall retorts, as he and Ted high-five.
"We give up, then," says Lily, "What is it?"
"Bon Jovi!" Barney declares, "Bon Jovi! And this-" he pulls out a plastic CD case from his pocket and brandishes it in front of them, "Is the new Bon Jovi album,"
"Oh, cool," says Ted.
"Cool? This is the epitome of cool. This makes David Devant look like a Cub Scout. It's properly out next week but I got it early cos I pre-ordered. Hey Carl," he turns to the bar, "Stick this in the CD player,"
Carl takes the disc from Barney, puts it in the CD player, and presses play.
There's something about you I wanna rescue- I don't even know you so what does that mean?
"This is a good one," Barney comments, then adds, "Come dance,"
"Sorry?"
"Come dance with me, Ro-Ro,"
He waggles his eyebrows, then smiles sincerely and holds his hand out to her. Robin's surprised but also rather touched; they've been fighting a lot recently so it's comforting to know that he still wants to be close with her.
She takes his hand, "Sure."
Ted raises his eyebrows as Barney and Robin get up from the table and make their way to the empty space near the bar. Barney pulls her against him and rests his hands on her hips, closing his eyes against her cheek.
Maybe I'm cynical; painfully logical
Robin holds him and moves with him to the slow song. She'd have said that this is definitely a Flugelhorn, but she's not going to mention that because…because it feels good, being this close to him; having her arms around his waist and her nose near his neck so she can smell that uniquely sexy scent of his aftershave (he won't tell anybody what brand it is, and she can never find it in his bathroom). Robin wonders if he's trying to make up for the arguments. She understands that it's tough for him- he's been fighting against relationships for over a decade, so he's rusty on how to behave as a boyfriend. Plus, Robin doubts that having herself as said girlfriend is helping him out much. And furthermore, Barney's always been in the grey area of morality. Loving someone who is a cheat, a liar, a sociopath and a master-manipulator isn't easy. Hating him is easy, loving him is hard. But she'll take hard, because she does love him. Perhaps the fighting happens because they're too alike. She wouldn't count herself as a sociopath, but she's been known to cheat and manipulate, and as Barney once said, elaborate lies turn them both on. Being so similar is friction on friction; fire on fire. They both play with fire, and that's what makes their relationship exciting- but it also makes it dangerous. It occurs to her to think about this as three separate entities: Robin, Barney, and Barney-and-Robin's-relationship. The latter, the relationship itself, is attractive because of the danger. It also seems to have a mind of its own- it slunk into their lives and slowly moved them closer towards each other. It was there, laughing, through the Summer, mutating slightly each day- until it changed abruptly and became an actual Relationship in September. And now it seems to be running away from them, spinning them both around like bowling pins until they knock each other over.
You're tragic and beautiful, and that's good enough for me
Of course, it isn't only the playing-with-fire relationship which is attractive though- it's Barney himself. Sure, the obvious reasons why any number of girls would (and have) go for him; hot, handsome, awesome in bed, funny, charming (when he wants to be), sharp, and rampantly, contagiously enthusiastic about life. But moreover, he fascinates her. Barney fascinates everybody. If he was a book character, he'd be the one smirking on the back cover, the character everybody was most interested in because nobody can work him out. Robin can't work him out, and he's her boyfriend. (Sometimes it's still freaky to think of Barney as anybody's boyfriend, let alone hers. To most women, he's a number on a bedpost, a vengeance on an ex, a vague memory from a night out, a drunken mistake. Her boyfriend is most other women's drunken mistake. Hahaha, she thinks darkly). Of course, they all know that Barney cultivates most of this mysteriousness himself to seem cool- but there's other, deeper aspects of him which are conflicted and contradictory, which he seems guarded over but sort of desperate to say. They all feel a need to protect him- from himself, his craziness, from the world he thinks he understands but clearly doesn't. Now, dating him, this puts Robin in a weird position because she's still trying to protect him but also has the best chance to try to solve the ever-changing Sudoku puzzle which is Barney Stinson.
You're looking for a hero, but it's just my old tattoo
Barney wonders how long they have left. A week, a month? He took their Summer day-by-day and, since they weren't In A Relationship, he never thought about how much of a chance they had of "making it", as Lily would say. But since they've defined (yawn) themselves as a couple and since the fighting's started and hasn't stopped, he's been considering how long their relationship has until it blows up in their faces. It doesn't come as a surprise; Barney knows he's completely ill-equipped to date anybody, and Robin is the unhelpful combination of being savvy enough to keep up with him but being almost as ill-equipped for relationships as he is (God knows how she lasted a year with Ted). Apart from the Canadian issue (which is almost a deal-breaker), she's- well, she's almost a match for him. Independent, unsentimental, career-focussed but fun-loving. She can be charming when she wants to be, but she also has no qualms about telling someone to piss off when they deserve it. She's the kind of girl who gets on and does what she wants instead of waiting around for others to decide if it's what they want too. She's as sharp as he is, but not in the same way; she looks at things differently to how he does, and that makes them a good team in Laser Tag and lies and lovemaking. But perhaps incompatible in a serious relationship. Barney wonders how long they have left.
Tonight I swear I'd sell my soul to be a hero for you
Barney's trying to keep it together but that's easier said by Ted's indie bands than it is done in the messy, creaky, fragile situation they're dealing with. He's trying to be the boyfriend Robin deserves but he's also avoiding changing- and perhaps that contradiction is another tear. It's easy to say that he loves her, he admires her, he wants her, he supports her, he wants to keep her safe and he'll do anything to make her happy- but those are meaningless, generalised ideas any guy would spew out for his girlfriend. They're statements Barney feels, 'Yeah, I guess,' about, but they're not real. What he really feels about her is you look really calm when you're taking your make-up off in the mirror. I don't know if it's only me whose noticed that you say 'dogs' like 'do-o-o-ogs'. You give me a shut up Barney look which actually makes me shut up. You don't have the biggest tits in the world but I could spend all day motorboating you. You deserve a boyfriend who knows more about not screwing things up. I like having you as my Laser Tag partner. All that may not be poetic, but at least it's true.
He mumbles the lyrics against her cheek, then adds, "This is a damn good song,"
"Hmm," she agrees moving her chin onto his shoulder so that they're so close she can't meet his eyes, "You know what though?"
Who's gonna save you when the stars fall from your sky? And who's gonna pull you in when the tide gets too high?
Who's gonna hold you when you turn out the light? I won't lie; I wish that I could be your Superman tonight
"What?" he asks.
"I won't ever need you to be my Superman,"
He leans back a little to smile at her. "You won't ever need me to be your anything, am I right?"
"You're right," she smiles back. Barney makes a noise somewhere between a whisper and a chuckle, and leans in to kiss her. She meets him halfway, very gently brushing their mouths against each other's. He always knew she'd be a good kisser. Sentimental coupley stuff he might struggle with, but the physical part he's a master of. When he's president, marriage will be banned and society will only accept fuck-buddies, friends-with-benefits and actually-it's-none-of-your-business-what-we-are as the true forms of relationship.
If somebody sent you an angel to save you, what would you tell him to turn him away?
Moments where they're kissing, caressing, having sex- they're easy. Moments when they're hanging out with the others or chilling at home chatting and watching TV used to be easy- though lately those moments always set them on the verge of a fight. And the fights are bad. Noisy, hot, theatrical, explosive- exactly like their sex is. They don't bicker, squabble, undermine or quarrel; fights are only ever full-on fighting. Which is a relief, because the fights don't last too long, and when it's over they can go back to being best friends or fucking; there's never any bitter sniping or cold-shouldering or grudges. There's no bitching or revenge (Robin's relieved about this, because God knows what Barney could come up with to get revenge on his girlfriend). In fact, they feel united to keep their constant fighting undercover in front of Ted, Marshall and Lily. They're a good team like that.
Ever since that ski trip things have changed; she knows that Barney knows it to. The first couple of days were amazing; skiing, having snowball fights, shoving ice down the back of each other's coats. She remembers Barney's weight on top of her, his blond hair flecked with snowflakes, his cold lips on hers as they'd rolled around kissing in the snow. And afterwards they'd gone inside to warm up together; maybe allowed themselves a cuddle (but only for warmth, obviously). But then they'd got caught on that Goddamn ski lift, and there was no way to invoke their genius fight-aversion tactics, no escape hatch- and the Pandora's Box of irritation, anger, jealously and resentment had come bursting open- and now it won't be shut. Yet they're focussing on the box's contents rather than looking at what's in the bottom of it; failure. Their fighting, Robin realises, is a delay tactic- they tell themselves that fighting's faces their problems- but honestly it's the shouting and swearing and sex and smashed plates which stop them talking about the real issue of their doomed relationship. Fighting is a different version of bitterness, grudges, cold fights or iciness. She keeps fighting to put off the discussion about how the relationship is slipping away from them, because she doesn't know what to tell him. Where would she even start?
That your heart don't break?
Mostly, Barney likes planning ahead. Suits for the next week, steps to a Play, fifteen-year revenge plans for the man who stole his girlfriend. He likes control. But not everything can be controlled. Sometimes the girls you're chasing will end up hanging out with the Liberty Bell guard. Sometimes the bartender whose business you've been minding will come home early, leaving you to take the bar into your bro's apartment upstairs. Sometimes you'll dump a waitress, which will make her try to kill you. And if Barney hasn't planned ahead for these things, he can still make it into a legendary strory, and he supposes that that in itself is a kind of control. A relationship, however, he can't plan ahead for. He planned how to get with Robin- fights, ex's weddings, buying a dishwasher- but none of that worked and they ended up together in an unplanned way. And now he hasn't got a plan for their relationship, he isn't in control- and not in a good way. In a way which makes him feel confused and helpless. And God knows he can't plan for heartbreak.
That your lips don't kiss? That life is just a lie? That heaven don't exist?
He's scared shitless of anything after the here and now; terrified of contemplating a future plan or relationship goals or some Lilyish crap. So he'll take the here and now- Robin's arms holding him, Robin's breath on his neck, Robin's hair tickling his nose. It's real and true and it's legendary.
Who's going to fix you the next time you break down?
Robin doesn't want to hurt him though- even if she wasn't his girlfriend, she's still have that responsibility to protect him. They all do. Besides, God knows what post-break-up Barney Stinson would be like. Last time he reinvented himself completely, and Robin cares about him far too much to let that happen again. Truthfully, it's a terrifying thought that the man she loves could change overnight into somebody else- new haircut, new clothes, new job, new hobbies, new lifestyle, new friends. She'd like to think he wouldn't do it now- but Barney will do anything if he wants to, and come on, she is Robin Scherbatsky. Breaking up with Robin Scherbatsky is a tough thing to happen to a dude. If she breaks up with him he may well want to disappear from their circle and become someone knew. And after a few weeks she might not recognise him- if she ever saw him. The thought is both bizarre and painful. Painfully bizarre, bizarrely painful.
The delay tactics partly for Barney's sake, then; avoid breaking whatever there is inside him, but also for her own selfish reasons; she doesn't want to lose him.
Don't look back
"Barney, I-"
She doesn't really know what she's going to say, but he seems to because he looks her in the eye and says seriously, "Yeah,"
He holds her gaze.
Let it go
She drops his gaze and puts her arms around him again, juts her chin onto his shoulder, rubs the lump of his shoulder-blade through his suit coat. And maybe, just maybe, she lets her fingertips cling onto the fabric.
She doesn't need him to be her boyfriend, her Superman, her anything.
But clings on because she doesn't want her and him to rip apart.
She clings on tight, so that they don't do the ripping themselves.
Who's gonna save you when the stars fall from your sky? And who's gonna pull you in when the tide gets too high?
Who's gonna hold you when you turn out the light? I won't lie; I wish that I could be your Superman tonight
Thanks for reading. I've been working on this one on-and-off for...God, it must be over two years by now (!), so I'd really appreciate reviews. Thanks for your time.