Barney has no right!
He has no right to make puppy dog eyes at her like she's somehow betrayed him. They're not a couple. Heck, it makes the fury rise up in her gut and her fists clench just to think about that. Before she knows it, Robin's angry as hell.
"What?" She demands, because his expression says it all. His stupid expressive expression.
She's dimly aware that she might just be a little drunk. But she can handle it. She's Canadian and she's got anti-freeze running in her veins.
Somewhere deep inside, a small voice tells her that yeah, that's why she's so cold. That's why she didn't anticipate Barney's reaction. And it had felt so good, to finally get the truth of what happened between her and Ted out there. It's not something she can tell Marshall, because he's been so freakin' sanctimonious lately. And it's not even something she can tell Lily, because Lily would interfere.
It's not something she should tell an ex, but then Robin's never really thought of Barney as an ex. Even when he's had every reason to hate her, they've still had this brother-sister vibe going on.
Only not brother-sister, because that would be creepy. Jeez.
Robin shakes herself, derailing her train of thought and glares at him.
Barney pales, visibly. "What? Nothing! What?" He replies, nonsensically.
"Stop being weird!" Robin demands. "We didn't actually kiss. I was drunk. Ted was drunk."
"You're drunk now. Doesn't mean you're gonna kiss me!" Barney protests.
Their knees knock as she lunges for him, her palms slapping either side of his face as she pulls him towards her. Then her mouth crashes into his, violent with frustration and anger and the need to just be right, just for once.
To win, just for once. That would be nice.
It's supposed to prove a point, that kiss, but when the initial fury fades, Robin finds herself still lip-locked with Barney, their tongues clashing, for a full minute before either one of them is ready to break away.
It surprises her than he does.
"You need to go to bed," he says gruffly. His lips look puffy.
"Terrible pick up line, dude," she scoffs.
"It wasn't," he says, coldly. "You need to go to bed alone. You're drunk."
It feels like a slap. It's shocking and she resents it. What's the matter? Has he lost interest in her now? "Drunk and vulnerable. I thought that was your type," she snaps.
He doesn't reply, just shakes his head ever-so-slightly, and gets to his feet. He's as unsteady as she is, she notices. How much have they both had to drink tonight? If the answer is "too much" then why isn't anything happening between them? Robin's fury is making her horny. She wants angry-sex right now and Barney's not playing his allotted role.
He doesn't say goodbye, doesn't look at her. His gaze sweeps across the bar and she can see his jaw working, like he's grinding his teeth. His hands are balled into fists, knuckles white.
Then he turns on his heels and walks out on her, leaving without a backward glance. And because Robin's pride is at stake, she doesn't run after him, doesn't call him or even text him. She remains seated, outwardly calm, but feeling the flush of warmth on her own cheeks as the shame burns inside her. Then her annoyance turns inward, savage and bitter, as she slowly and deliberately finishes her wine.
"Jerk face," she mutters when she gets to her feet, lifting her chin and shooting a haughty glare at Carl over at the bar. The effect is ruined somewhat by her unsteady stumble towards the door.
She calls in sick to work. The last thing she wants to do is talk to anyone right now.
"Jerk face", she growls again as her head hits the pillow and the room begins to spin. But she doesn't know who she means and who she's really angry with. Barney, or herself?
To be continued…
