Chapter Two

"I can't believe she's not coming in until Thursday," Marshall said for what felt like the thousandth time since they got back in the car. Robin had no clue what to say to cheer him up, but felt obligated to say something.

"Look, it's not that big of a deal. You'll just pick her up Thursday. I can even take you if you need a ride." Well, she thought, that was dumb. As if either of us really want to reenact this joyful ride. God, please say no, please, please-

"No." Thank God. "This was like, a sign, you know? You were right. Clinging on to these traditions is just pathetic. It's time to grow up." Marshall said this forcefully, but Robin was sure she could detect the faintest waver behind his voice. And, for reasons unbeknownst to her, she felt a pang in her heart.

Robin stared straight ahead, unsure as to how to respond to this. She wasn't good with the feelings. Anger and vengeance, sure. But sadness? Nostalgia? Not really her thing. Still, it was Marshall, and she had to say something. If only for Lily and Ted's sake.

"Come on, Marshall. You're not gonna take anything I say seriously, are you?" She guffawed a little and glanced over at her passenger, but he was still staring sullenly out his window. Ok, it was time for her to get serious. "Just because I don't do it, or because I don't understand it, doesn't mean it doesn't work for you. I mean, if these gestures make you guys happy, then you shouldn't give up on them because of one night of confusion. They've lasted twelve years, you can't let them go now."

The corners of Marshall's mouth turned slightly upwards, which Robin took to mean she had been successful. Perhaps she was better at this stuff than she gave herself credit for.

Silence overtook the car again, but this time it was comfortable, instead of stifling. The snow fell gently on the windshield, and their surroundings began to look familiar. Just a few more miles, and they were homefree. Robin began fantasizing about what it would be like to relax in the bar, talk to their friends, regain the buffer between her and Marshall. Maybe Barney would be there, wearing that navy blue suit and the tie she had bought him for-

"Why aren't we closer friends?" Leave it to Marshall to destroy the peace.

"Huh?"

Marshall turned to face Robin head on, a look of curious determination plastered on his face. "I mean, you're best friends with my wife, I'm best friends with your ex, we're both good friends with Barney, so why don't we ever talk one-on-one?"

This thought had occurred to Robin in the past, especially over the incredibly awkward ride they'd been enduring for the past couple hours, but she had always brushed if off because they had little in common. That seemed a bit harsh, however, to say out loud, so she wracked her brain for another reason while Marshall stared at her expectantly.

"I- I don't know." Okay, so not extremely intelligent, but she didn't have a lot of time. Apparently, though, Marshall wasn't going to let this go.

"When was the last time we hung out for real, just the two of us?"

"Uh, when you took me to the Canadian bar." Hah! This time she had an answer.

"Okay, what about before that?" He really wasn't going to let this one go.

"I don't know." Back to the good old standby answer.

"Well, we should some time. I mean, we should be able to talk about things. Anything." Now he was staring at her pointedly, and Robin attempted her very best 'I have no idea what you're talking about but back the hell off' face. A difficult emotion for anyone to pull off, and she was hardly up for any Oscar nominations, but she was pretty sure the point was made.

"Yeah, I guess." Finally she was pulling up to his apartment. Marshall smiled at her and patted her shoulder briefly.

"Thanks, Robin. Talk to you later." He was still wearing that weird, knowing smile, and it was making her uncomfortable.

"Yeah, anytime." As she drove away she tried to shake off the uncomfortable feeling that had overcome her from Marshall's words. She pulled out her phone and texted Barney, "Hey, wanna meet up at McClarens?"

Just to hang out. As friends. Nothing more. Right?

God, she hated Marshall.

xxxXXXxxx

"You see, Cindy, I've been diagnosed with a rare form of prostate cancer. And unless it's treated, I'll die in the next twenty-four hours. And the only known treatment is to.." the voice faded away as he leaned in to whisper in the floozy's ear.

"It's never gonna work. It can't. No one would fall for that."
"Twenty bucks, Ted. She'll go home with him within five minutes." Ted and Lily were wagering on Barney's latest conquest, a particularly unintelligent girl, currently wiping tears away at his tragic tale. Marshall, however, was being suspiciously quiet, watching Robin, who in turn was staring intently at her scotch, determined to ignore him.

"Oh, come on Lily, no one is that dumb." Lily just smiled knowingly at Ted who glared fiercely back.

Robin glanced up in time to see Barney wrap his arm around the blonde and give her the thumbs up behind her back as he led her to a secluded corner of the bar.

"Hey-oh! Pay up Mosby." Lily grinned as Ted shoved the bill in her hand. "I knew it."

"I can't believe this. Where does he find these girls? I mean, in this day and age, you'd have to be insane or completely retarded to go to bed with Barney Stinson."

"Aw, don't be a sore loser Ted. Maybe next time."

"I don't think they're dumb. I mean, he can be quite charming." Robin's head snapped up to stare at Marshall, who was looking back at her with a small smile.

"Yeah, whatever. Take Lily's side." Ted continued pouting, and Robin tried to ignore Marshall. Ever since that car ride he'd been slipping extremely un-subtle hints her way. Which were not at all appreciated. She didn't care what Barney did, and she didn't care what Ted said. At all.

She took another sip to try and wash down the foul taste in her mouth. Which had nothing to do with Barney. Who could do whatever he wanted.

She had begun justifying her actions in her own head as though Marshall could hear her, and would somehow be convinced. Which, she supposed, was kind of justifying Ted's insanity theory. She just could not win with these people.

Busy emptying her glass, she didn't even notice the handsome brunette who had come to stand next to their booth. He'd been checking her out all night, but she hadn't paid him much attention. She had been too busy alternating between ignoring Ted, Marshall, and Barney and standing trial in her own mind. It really hadn't been much of a night.

"Can I buy you a drink?" She glanced around and spotted Barney making out with his dumb floozy in a corner, and got caught by Marshall looking. She sighed heavily, and then nodded. After all, anything had to be better than this crap.

"Of course." She followed him to the bar, under the judgmental stares of her friends.

xxxXXXxxx

The guy, whose name turned out to be Steve, paid the cab driver as she stood outside his apartment. He was good-looking enough, and they got along all right. He could stand to be a tad less self-absorbed, but it was hardly a deal-breaker. He smiled at her as he led her up the stairs and to his apartment.

The second he opened the door she leaned in and kissed him, pushing him through and kicking the door closed behind her. His breath was cold, like he'd had too many breathmints, and she recalled the sensation of Barney's warm breath in her mouth before banishing the thought. Focus, Sherbatsky.

Steve's clumsy hands made their way up her skirt and fumbled with her belt buckle. She moved his hands away and pulled down her skirt on her own, throwing the belt behind her. They fell onto his bed with a crash, and for a moment she wondered if the bed was going to break.

She felt herself being rolled over until she was on her back. She suppressed a laugh, he wasn't ready to be in charge. She pushed him back forcefully and straddled. He looked at her in wonder, with his beautiful blue eyes- wait, no, brown eyes.

She cleared her mind as he pulled on a condom. When he succeeded she leaned in, kissing him harshly and began to thrust herself into his cock, taking full control of the encounter. He moaned longingly. She ran her expert hands through his short blonde locks-no, brown. Brown hair. His hands were on her breasts, pinching her nipples painfully. She tried to swat them away, but he was persistent. His moans grew louder now, and he was looking at her with that mischievous smirk, blue eyes twinkling, blonde hair mussed, and-

Steve let out one final moan of satisfaction and collapsed beneath her. Jerked back into reality she stared surprised at the man for a moment, collecting herself. Finally she rolled off of him and stared at the ceiling, feeling interrupted and vaguely disturbed.

It was official. Barney Stinson was ruining her life. And the worst part was, he wasn't even trying.