Two Weeks Later

"First," Ted began as he slid into the booth, "I would like to thank you both in advance for keeping this night classy and dignified. I know it was asking a lot for the two of you to fend off the other people who were not invited to share this evening," Robin's and Lily's increasingly irate phone calls told him clearly what a difficult task that had been. "But as this is the last bachelor party our group is ever going to have, I wanted to keep things intimate. Funny that my bachelor party is the last one, huh?
"Actually," Marshall answered, "I always counted on you being the last of our bunch to get married."

Ted bristled with affront. "Hey."

Marshall shrugged. "What, did any of us really expect Barney to ever get married?"
The lines on Barney's forehead deepened as his brows shot upward. "Hey."

"Dude, you do have a reputation. With all the plays you've run on women in this bar alone, especially with Robin as witness to most of them, you have to admit the odds were not in your favor."

Ted allowed himself a secret smile as he splashed thirty year Glen McKenna into three tumblers. Marshall did have a point. If these walls could talk… He spared only a moment for the memories. Actually, the walls in the women's bathroom probably had a lot to say about Barney, but this wasn't the night to bring it up.

Barney's mouth slanted. "Yeah, well, I've been engaged more times than anybody else at this table. Two of those times were to my lovely wife, and Ted wouldn't even have met Tracy in the first place if it weren't for my and Robin's wedding."

"Oh, I don't know about that." Ted drew out the words and slid one glass to each of his friends. "I'd like to believe we would have met anyway. All those close calls over all those years mean we're fated."

"Fated is all well and good," Barney paused to swirl the scotch in his glass, "but there's also timing."

Ted held up a hand to stop him from saying anything else. "Is this going to be another story about how you and Robin were on and off for all those years, until you were both finally grown up enough to notice what had been there all along?"

"No, because you jumped straight to the moral of the story for me." Barney's eyes glinted. "That saves me some time, so that I can focus on my other point, which is that all those near misses you had with Tracy were only that: misses. Without the push of our wedding, you two would have been going right by each other for the rest of your lives."

Marshall jumped into the conversation. "You mean they could have; there's no way of knowing that's what would have happened, but it might have gone that way."

Ted shook his head. "No way. We're soulmates."

"Soulmates or not," Barney insisted, "timing is key. Too soon, and Tracy would have still been with Max. Too late, and she could be too old to have kids, and you don't get the whole package."

'Hey." Heat prickled the back of Ted's neck. "I don't need a package. Yes, I know how that sounded. No laughing. I need Tracy. Kids or no kids, as long as I have her, that's all I need. I'm lucky enough to have successful models of both outcomes right here, kids or no kids, so let's toast to that." He raised his glass and waited for the other two to clink theirs against it.

Marshall coughed. "Yeah, but Lily and I are more successful, right? We've been together since the first day of college, and Barney and Robin are only starting in on year three here. Sorry," he added with an apologetic glance at Barney. "Legnth of service. Oh, hey, speaking of service, did my IT guy fix the problem with the internet on your laptop?"

"Yeah, it's perfect. I get an awesome signal anywhere now. Underground, going through tunnels, even that coffee house where laptops can't hold the wifi signal, but mobile devices do. He put in an international adapter, so I can't wait to try that out when Robin and I get to Argentina. Thanks, bro." Barney and Marshall bumped fists.

Ted cleared his throat. "Um, guys, focus? Bachelor party? It's for the groom?" He waited, expectant, until direct stares from both of them assured him he had their full attention. "Barney, do you promise there are no strippers?"

Barney set down his glass. "What have I been telling you all along? I promise there are no strippers. Now, shove over so I can get out of this booth, because I have to make a pit stop."

Ted slid out of the booth to allow Barney's exit. A familiar blonde form stood silhouetted in the entrance. Quinn. A knowing smile curved Ted's lips. "Marshall." He elbowed Marshall in the ribs. "It's Quinn."

Marshall aimed a genial wave in Quinn's direction. "Been a long time since we've seen her. She looks good."

She did. Long blonde hair cascaded over the shoulders of a black trench coat. A coat, Ted observed, such as one might wear to cover the titillating costume of an exotic dancer. "A very long time, not since Barney's bachelor party."

Marshall clutched at Ted's sleeve. "Dude, no. Barney said there aren't any strippers."

Ted shook off Marshall's touch. "And yet, as soon as Barney goes to the bathroom, in walks Quinn, almost as if somebody had planned the entire thing."

"Seriously, no." Marshall slid out of his side of the booth and blocked Ted's way. "Nobody planned anything."

"Oh sure, Quinn, a stripper, chooses the night of her ex-fiancé's best friend's bachelor party to enter the bar she used to frequent with said ex-fiancé? I think not. I'd better let her down easy. I mean, how awkward would it be if she started her performance and then I told her to stop?" He took one step toward the bar.

"Not as awkward," Marshall ground from between clenched teeth, "as you going to tell her not to do a performance she was never going to do in the first place."

Marshall's words came too late. Quinn had her bag on the counter, her bottom perched on a stool as she said something to Carl. Asking him to cue up music, no doubt. Ted had to get there before she started taking props out of that bag. He bounded toward the bar. "Quinn! Hi. Remember me?"

Quinn flipped her hair behind her shoulder and cocked her head. "Barney's friend, right? Fred?"

Cute, the old pretend not to remember his name trick. Probably her way of making sure she had the right audience. "Ted, actually. Ted Mosby."

"Right. Ted. How is Barney? Is he here?" She craned her neck in the direction of the men's room. If she knew where Barney was, that had to be a sign.

"Good. He's good. In the bathroom, but you probably knew that. Still happily married, though, so sucks for you if you were thinking-"

Quinn cut him off before he could get any farther. "I'm not. I'm here to-"

The men's room door squeaked. He didn't have much time. "Look, I know why you're here, and you don't have to do it. In fact, I'm not going to let you do it."

Quinn's brows drew together. "You're not?"

"I know you mean well, and Barney meant well, but this is my bachelor party and I'm just not going to let that sort of thing taint a dignified evening for sophisticated gentlemen. I'll make sure you're paid up, though. No worries on that front. You understand."

"Sophisticated gentlemen? I thought you said you were here with Barney." The gold bangles on her wrist jingled when she waved. "Speak of the devil."

Barney adjusted his tie and took his place next to Ted. "Quinn." He greeted her with a curt nod. "What are you doing here?"

Quinn tilted her head toward Carl. "Well, I was going to settle the tab some of the girls and I ran up last night and pick up my car keys, but Ted said he wants to pay it."

"Does he? How generous. Ted, can I see you at the other end of the bar?" Barney didn't wait for a response, but took Ted by the arm and dragged him along. "Why do you want to pay Quinn's bar tab?"

"I don't. I only wanted to let her know she didn't have to strip for my bachelor party."

Barney kneaded his temple with one hand. "Okay, I don't know where you're getting your information, but it's not like priests with last rites. Quinn doesn't have to strip merely because she happens to be in a bar where a bachelor party she didn't even know about is happening."

Ted cast a glance back over his shoulder. Quinn withdrew a rhinestone-encrusted compact from her purse and reapplied lip gloss. Carl motioned toward the cash register. "So you really didn't hire her to, um, dance tonight?"

Barney answered with only a cold, dead stare.

Great. Ted dipped one hand into his jacket pocket and nodded toward Carl. "Charge?"