Dear Amanda –

Thank you for giving me such a sweet memory of our night together. I only wish we had more time to share. How cruel of fate to give us only one night before separating us forever – and yet, how sweet to give me such a beautiful memory to take along on my journey to the other side. Just know that for a single night, you've made one dying man happy beyond what he ever imagined was possible.

Always,

Jonathan Logan

Barney smirked as he signed the pseudonym – worthy of a soap opera character, and yet not so outrageously dramatic as to be obviously fake – to the handwritten note he'd just composed. He laid it on the pillow where he'd pretended to sleep only long enough for the girl – Amanda – to fall asleep herself, then grabbed his keys and slipped quietly out of her apartment.

The cool night air hit his face with a burst of reality, and Barney felt his satisfaction giving way to an uncomfortable feeling of frustrated humiliation. It wasn't that he had slept with her. After all, Ted was right. His record was really far from perfect; he'd slept with far less attractive girls before, so… it wasn't that. It was just that, regardless of their attractiveness level, Barney was used to choosing the girls he slept with – and this time, he hadn't had much of a choice at all.

Well, I hope Ted's satisfied. I slept with her, and gave her the night of her life – just like he told me to.

So… this must be what a hooker feels like.

As he made his way toward home, Barney's resentment gradually began to swell up within him, at the thought of Ted's demanding, arrogant demeanor – the obvious pleasure he'd taken in pushing Barney into something he didn't want to do – and how certain he'd been that Barney would do exactly as he was told, regardless of how much he didn't want to do it.

And… how right he'd been.

Getting ordered into sex with someone I'm not attracted to, by my best friend… basically getting pimped out by him… maybe this will be enough humiliation… prove his point enough… for Ted to let it go.

Barney certainly hoped that would be the case.

He'd made sure that the few hours he'd spent with Amanda were tender and romantic and nothing like his usual raucous escapades – and yet, they had left him feeling more shame and disgust at himself than anything else he could remember doing. The entire situation had left him feeling – dirty – and that was not something that Barney felt easily, not anymore.

Well, maybe whatever point Ted was trying to prove… whatever he thinks he's going to accomplish with this 'testing me' crap… maybe he's done proving it. Maybe… this will be enough.

But deep down, Barney was almost certain that it wouldn't be.

Ted called him the following morning, while he was on his way to work.

Barney took a deep breath before answering the phone, bracing himself for another challenge. "Hello?" He winced at the sound of his own voice, hesitant and touched with a note of dread.

"Did you go through with it?" Ted demanded without preamble, an eager note to his voice that Barney found incredibly irritating.

"Yes. Yes, I went through with it."

The disgust in Barney's voice was unmistakable.

He just wasn't sure whether it was disgust at Ted or at himself that he was feeling.

"Happy now?"

Ted let out a cold, surprised laugh that Barney found deeply unsettling. "Oh, Barney." His tone was filled with patronizing amusement. "Not even close."

And without any further explanation, Ted disconnected the call, leaving Barney staring down at his phone in troubled uncertainty. He swallowed hard, a tight knot of worry beginning to form in his chest as he considered the possibilities for Ted's next test – and began to wonder if all of this was really going to be worth it, after all.

What else does he have in mind? What could he be planning?

Barney considered for a moment, biting his lower lip, a pensive frown creasing his brow.

It doesn't matter, he told himself. I can take it. I know I can. Whatever he wants… whatever it's going to take to satisfy him… it will be worth it. Those few weeks without him… without the entire gang… I couldn't… couldn't go through that again.

I can't… I can't lose him.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry and his palms damp at the very thought of being without the one friend who had come to mean so much to him over the past few years. And after all, Ted's first test hadn't been that bad – not really. It wasn't as if Barney couldn't have said no, if he'd really found it that distasteful. If their roles were reversed, Barney was pretty sure he could have come up with something a lot more difficult and humiliating to put Ted through.

Ted just doesn't have it in him. And… if I'm wrong… and he does…

I can always back out later, if it gets to be too bad…

At that moment, Ted didn't know any more than Barney did about what the next test would be – only that there certainly would be one.

He'd expected to find a certain measure of satisfaction in making Barney squirm a little – in taking his usually unflappable confidence and control, and bringing him down a peg or two. He'd expected to feel vindicated in making Barney suffer a little in recompense for the hurt and betrayal he'd committed.

What he hadn't expected was to enjoy it so much.

It was an unexpectedly heady thrill – thinking of Barney with the girl that Ted had chosen for him, going through the motions despite how much he hated the idea. It was surprisingly satisfying to have so much control – to give random orders, devised on a whim to make Barney miserable, and watch as Barney tried to figure a way out of it but eventually…reluctantly… obeyed.

And it was becoming increasingly clear that, whatever Ted ordered him to do – Barney would obey.

Barney's façade was a bit frayed at the edges these days, Ted mused. He usually held it together so well – made everyone believe that his arrogant, obnoxious behavior was the real him – but Ted was beginning to see that there was more to the story than that. Barney tried to present the impression to the world that he didn't need any of them, didn't care what anyone thought of him – but, slowly, it was becoming clearer than ever to Ted that that was the farthest thing from the truth.

Barney did value the opinion of someone – did need someone.

Ted.

Barney's obedience was the evidence of his need… and Ted found himself wondering how far he could push the limits of that need without breaking it.

I'm going to forgive him, he told himself. Either way, eventually… I'm going to forgive him.

It's just… Barney's all about pushing the limits, whenever and however he can. Why shouldn't I push his limits a little? Let him know what it feels like? Show him that when you hurt people, there are consequences, and you can't just stab someone in the back one day and go back to the way it was the next?

He'll call a stop to it sooner or later. He will.

I'll just… take it a little bit farther…

"So… laser tag tomorrow night? Meet at my place at seven?"

Lily groaned and rolled her eyes, as Marshall slapped his palm against Barney's in an anticipatory high five behind her back. Although she let out an impatient sigh, her resigned smile told Barney that she really wasn't that put out about the idea. "Aren't we a little too old for laser tag, guys?"

"Yeah," Marshall agreed, turning to face the entire group, his expression one of false disdain. "Totally too old for laser tag. Seriously, this has to be the last time…"

Lily gave him a suspicious look, but he just blinked at her with a vaguely confused expression – all innocence.

Ted rose from his seat with a shrug. "It's just… we're always hanging out here, or going to places that you two wanna go to, or me or Robin, and… I just think every once in a while, we should do something Barney'd like to do – and since I think we'd all rather play laser tag than spend an evening at the local strip club…"

The others laughed, and Barney felt his face flush with a confusing blend of self-conscious uncertainty and pleased pride at Ted's consideration – even if it did come attached to a backhanded sort of comment.

"I do other things," he insisted, a little defensive.

"Yeah, but most of those other things aren't group-appropriate activities," Robin smirked. "Usually."

Barney's stomach did a strange little flip at her casual comment. He knew that she was probably just trying to make things seem normal again – to make the same kind of joking comment she would have made before everything that had happened between them – but he couldn't help worrying about Ted's reaction. Fortunately, however, Ted didn't seem to notice the possible implications of her little joke.

"Ew." Ted just gave her a little grimace of mingled amusement and distaste before turning to go, waving a dismissive hand over his shoulder. "Night, guys. See you at seven."

Barney bounced a little in his seat in anticipation, though he knew that he would have to be there an hour earlier than the others. Ted had informed him before the others had arrived that his next task would be spending the hour before said evening cleaning Ted's apartment. Barney had grumbled and whined, but had known from the start that he'd eventually give in.

All in all, if that was the price for an evening of laser tag with his friends – specifically, with Ted – then it was a rather small price to pay.

And weak, compared to his last orders.

Maybe that's a good sign. If he's wearing down already…

"Barney, I'm so glad he's finally let all this crap between you two go."

Barney blinked, looking up distractedly at the sound of his name – taking a moment to process Lily's words. She was giving him a sincere smile, relief in her eyes, as she reached out across the table to gently squeeze his wrist before withdrawing back against Marshall's arm around her shoulders. When Barney realized what she was talking about, he looked away self-consciously, swallowing hard.

"Oh… yeah. Me too."

"I mean… it just wasn't the same without you here. We missed you. I'm just… really glad things are all back to normal now, and everybody's friends again, and all's forgiven, and…" Lily's voice trailed off momentarily, and she bit her lower lip, a frown of rueful realization creasing her brow as she went on. "… and… on that really, painfully awkward note that I… didn't realize I was making… um… we should probably be going. Work in the morning, you know. So… good night, guys."

Robin gave Marshall and Lily a little wave and a smile as they scooted out of the booth and headed for the door, before looking back across the table at Barney, her smile fading completely.

"He hasn't let it go, has he?"

Barney flinched slightly, startled by her words, but managing to cover it pretty well. "What?" he asked blankly, shaking his head with a slight frown, as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Ted." Robin's tone was flat, certain. "I can see it. He's… so not over it. Marshall and Lily…" She waved a hand in the direction in which they'd left, rolling her eyes. "Sometimes I think those two only see what they want to see…"

"Some people might call that 'optimism'," Barney pointed out with an affectionate smile, though his heart was racing, his palms damp, at how close Robin was accidentally venturing toward the truth.

Robin snorted softly. "I call it voluntary blindness. Ted… he hasn't forgiven you, has he?"

Barneys smile faded, and he swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to answer her question. It was difficult to formulate a convincing lie, with her staring at him with those piercing eyes that saw far more of him than he was comfortable with being seen. In the end, he settled on an answer that wasn't a lie at all – but wasn't quite the truth, either.

"I broke my own sacred vows of bro-hood," he stated, meeting her eyes matter-of-factly. "I betrayed his friendship, and violated his trust. If some dude did that to me, I don't know if I'd ever be able to forgive him…"

"You're not just 'some dude', Barney," Robin reminded him, her tone uncharacteristically gentle as she leaned across the table, a strange urgency in her eyes. "If Ted did that to you – you'd forgive him in a heartbeat, and don't even try to say you wouldn't. I know you better than that."

Barney looked away for a moment, not bothering to try to deny it. After a moment, he looked up at her again, a subtle challenge in his sad, resigned gaze.

"He's… trying," he explained, honestly. "Do I really have the right to ask for anything more than that?"

Robin held his gaze for a long tense moment, looking as if she wanted to argue – but then looked away, shaking her head slightly with a weary sigh – and her unspoken answer was clear.

They both knew that he didn't.

When she finally raised her sad, apologetic gaze to his again, Barney gave her a bittersweet smile and a nod before tipping his glass to his lips and draining the rest of it. He set it back on the table as he rose to his feet and headed for the door.

"Night, Robin. See you at laser tag tomorrow."