Stop me

Looking back on it, Marshall often wondered whether, in the forty-eight hours, he could have done anything differently. It wasn't that he felt guilty. It's just that his heart ached every time he remembered the look on Barney's face. He'd never forget it. And he'd never, ever let that happen again.

It all started at seven AM, on a cold Thursday morning in January, 2009. Marshall was at work early for a meeting on the seventh floor. As he made his way to the conference room, his path took him past his friend's office. Naturally, he ducked in to say "Hi".

He was kind-of surprised by what he saw. Barney's normally spartan office was a mess. His desk was covered in stacks of half-opened files which had spilled over on to two of his black leather chairs.

"Hey buddy!" Marshall greeted him.

Barney looked up for where he was sitting, deeply engrossed with something on his laptop, and gave him a friendly smile. "Marshall!" He looked pleased to see him and leaned back from his desk stretching out his arms and flexing his fingers. He checked his watch. "You in for the Nakamura meeting?" He asked.

"Yep!" Marshall said brightly. "You too?"

Barney twitched then shook himself. "Nah. Just… working. Couldn't sleep."

Marshall took in Barney's rumpled appearance, his five o'clock shadow (or seven AM shadow?) and frowned a little. "You been here all night, man?" He felt a twinge of worry. It was weird how he'd gotten used to a different Barney, a mellower Barney, a Barney who basically acted like a regular guy. The hyperactive, hard-edged Barney of old had been vanquished somehow by Ted, by Robin, even by his wife. Marshall hadn't really understood it but he knew that Barney's panic attacks were real enough. So what that he'd felt a little remote from the process of changing his friend? He really liked this new, improved Barney.

It was kind of weird to see his friend on-edge like this. It felt like bad old Barney was creeping back in and it put Marshall on edge himself. He wondered if he should call Ted?

Barney shrugged, closing his eyes as if he was willing the tension to drain from his body. When he opened them again his smile was softer, easier and Marshall felt a little silly for worrying about him. "It's weird. I've been looking through our foreign holdings and cross checking them with the collapse of two of our rival banking establishments over the past two weeks. I dunno, Marshall. Something doesn't smell right. I feel it in my gut. I've been looking all night and…" He pulled out one of the papers as if to show it to Marshall. "And…" His attention was caught up by the paper. "And… that's…" He trailed off, slapping the paper on the table and digging around in the file.

"Barney?" Marshall asked. Barney ignored him so he took a step closer and opened his mouth only to hear his name yelled from the door.

"Eriksen!" Marshall spun around, suddenly in a panic. If the meeting had started he was going to get it. "See you later Barney!" He said, then turned around in the doorway. "Don't work too hard. And get some sleep!" He yelled as he hurried to the meeting room.

Little did he know how little attention Barney would pay to that advice.

*--*--*

The girl from Legal is barely legal. Heh. What up!

Barney is supposed to be at McLaren's right now but Ted's being lame and working late and Robin's out with Jillian. And yes, he's asked her to take video evidence so that every glorious moment is captured on film.

The girl from Legal seems to want to crawl down his throat. She kisses him hard, insistently.

The seventh floor is God. And he, Barney Stinson, is Jesus Christ, its disciple.

Okay, so he might be a little bit drunk.

They share the quarter bottle of Johnny Walker Red in his office and she throws herself at him, skirt up round her waist, panties down round her ankles, and she's riding him hard on his sofa before he's really worked out what's going on.

He feels something, creeping over him. He feels as though his second skin is settling back on to him, the layers, the layers, the armour hardening. His heart beats a little faster and he grimaces when he comes. It's painful. He flails, emotionally, mentally, trying to find the centre he's discovered with his friends. But she kisses him, kisses him, vacant-eyed and her nipple presses against his cheek and, fuck, he's missed this.

When she's finished with him, straightening her clothes and winking at him over her shoulder, he's buzzing so hard that his hands are shaking.

He won't sleep. He can't sleep. He goes online and his brain crackles and sparks.

It's beautiful.

Eventually, about four in the morning, he finds something interesting.

By seven AM he's almost sure.

Marshall drops by on his way to that Nakamura meeeting and everything clicks into place.

*--*--*

The meeting ran late so Marshall missed his regular lunch date with Ted and Barney. They'd either eat up on the roof or go out. Ted always tried to make sure Barney got some fresh air. Marshall guessed that was something to do with project mellow-Barney-out.

He caught up with Ted at two in the afternoon.

"Dude, have you eaten?" He asked. "I'm starving here!"

Ted looked up from a set of complex technical drawings. "Oh, right. Sorry. I had something earlier. How did the meeting go?"

Marshall shrugged. "Okay. Pretty boring. Meetings on the seventh floor always take hours…" He was about to launch into a rant about Bilson when Ted interrupted him.

"Hey, dude, do you know what's happening with Barney?"

Marshall looked up, confused. "What's happening with Barney?"

Ted shrugged, biting his lip. "I tried to see him at lunch and there were a bunch of very serious looking guys in his office and Nolan's been running around looking very tense all day."

"Really?" Marshall had almost forgotten his conversation with Barney first thing.

"Only," Ted continued, "I know that all these banks are in trouble right now and if there's something going down here, I'd appreciate the heads up. This contract could make or break my firm, you know?"

Marshall frowned, taking in his friend's worried face. He tried to smile reassuringly. "Ted, I'm sure it's nothing. Barney's probably doing whatever he does…"

Ted pushed his chair away from his drafting table. "Just so long as he doesn't go all Vader on us again..? We've really been making progress, you know."

Trust Ted to get to the heart of the matter and now he'd even got Marshall worried. After he excused himself and had fed his rumbling belly, given Lily her "I love you" phone call and checked his phone messages, Marshall again made his way up to seventh to see Barney.

Nolan and Bilson were both outside Barney's office, locked in heated debate. Marshall ducked around a corner, where he could overhear them but not be seen.

"What if he's right?" Bilson asked, an edge of hysteria creeping into his voice. Marshall had never heard Bilson sound like that. He'd never seen Bilson lose it, not even in the meetings with the Koreans that invariably turned into shouting matches.

"He's right." Nolan said, calmly. "Stinson's the best analyst there is. You know that. He's saved our butts more than a few times."

"Then what do we do?"

"There's a crisis meeting at six tonight, or whenever John gets here. Then we call the Japanese, I guess…" Bilson frowned, got out his handkerchief and dabbed his brow. "And hope we still all have jobs in the morning."

Marshall's heart beat loudly in his chest, sure that Bilson and Nolan would hear it as they walked past. "John" must be John MacBride, the CEO of Goliath National Bank. Marshall had never met the guy but he'd heard he was a real ball breaker. He was based in the Washington office and had an insane reputation.

When he was sure that Bilson and Nolan had left, Marshall doubled back for Barney's office, nodding to Tracy as he walked inside.

The room was an even worse mess than it had been that morning. Every inch of floor space was taken up with maps, diagrams and papers, laid out in geometrical shapes on the floor. The walls were covered in post-its and charts.

"Wow," was all that Marshall could manage.

Barney was at his laptop, looking as though he hadn't moved since the morning. His eyes were red-rimmed and glinted as his fingers flew over the keyboard. "Barney, what's happening?" Marshall blurted.

Barney looked up, vaguely registering Marshall, before going back to his work. "Important stuff. Gotta…" He frowned at the computer as if it was being deliberately obstructive.

Marshall carefully closed the door behind him. He lowered his voice. "Are we in trouble? Is GNB in trouble?"

Barney looked up, his frown deepening. "No!" He said with a bark of laughter. "Or at least it won't be if people will just stop interrupting me."

"Why, what are you doing?" Marshall asked him.

"Please!" Barney went back to his work.

Marshall decided to put his cards on the table. They were all he had. "Look, you should take a break. Or at least have a shower and shave before John MacBride gets here?"

Barney looked up sharply. "How do you know about that?"

Marshall smirked. Totally lawyered! "So there is something going on! Tell me?"

Barney waved around him. "It's all here. Look, can you just leave me alone? I've got, like, two hours to get this all done. Two hours and that's it. Please… Marshall…?"

But Marshall was looking around him, trying to follow the pattern of diagrams and print-outs and charts and reports. He thought he understood a little of it, certainly some of the legal papers, but the rest may as well have been written in Chinese. Hell, some of it was written in Chinese.

Marshall swallowed. "So this is what you do, huh?" Suddenly he kind-of understood why Barney never bothered to explain it to anyone. "You could just say you're a Business Analyst, you know."

Barney rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Oh Marshall. If only it were so simple."

"Then what else do you do, buddy?" Marshall asked, now genuinely curious.

"Watch and see, my friend, watch and see."

*--*--*

By nine AM he's sure. First thing he does is call John MacBride, quickly, briefly, on his personal line. He doesn't have time to waste. His brain crackles and sparks and he's got everything, everything all in his head. All the information, everything is in his head. Contained. Cross referenced. It's amazing. It's awesome. His heart races.

By ten AM the company springs into action like a well-oiled machine, like an extension of his own body. He flexes his arm and they bring him three piles of files. He flicks his little finger and one of the guys from IT gives him access. Faster, faster, higher, higher.

By two in the afternoon he's buzzing like a saw and they can't feed him fast enough. People keep coming, a train of them, in and out of his office, in and out. Bilson and Nolan are like shadows over his shoulder, watching him, questioning him. John calls, from the airstrip. Constant, constant people. Marshall stops by, asking him if GNB are in trouble. He grins. They might have been, some hours ago. They might have been, at four AM. Now it's four in the afternoon and a lot can happen in twelve hours.

If they move now, they can burn so brightly. That's all that matters.

They can do it.

And it's wonderful.

*--*--*

Marshall stayed late at work. Ted had a date but made him promise, on the lives of his four unborn children, to keep an eye on Barney. At six, there was a commotion at reception as John MacBride arrived. Pretty much everyone was still working. The entire company had been mobilised. The legal department kept getting requests for copies of contracts and it had kept Marshall busy the whole day.

And it was hard to concentrate when he was worried both about his own job and about Barney.

And speaking of the devil, Marshall caught a glimpse of his friend going into the big meeting with MacBride, Bilson, Nolan and all the directors of the New York office of GNB. Barney had certainly taken Marshall's advice and smartened himself up. He looked alert, almost manic. Marshall was pretty sure that he'd been mainlining Red Bull and wondered if he should stick around till the meeting finished.

But then Lily rang and he sent Barney a quick text before heading home for dinner.

Three hours later he got a reply from Barney. "Everything is steak sauce."

Marshall laughed and showed his wife, who instantly demanded to know every detail of his day. He toned things down a little because he didn't want to worry her (they had enough money worries without him losing this job) but instead she seemed to obsess about Barney.

"Did he get any sleep today?" She asked. "They made him go into a big meeting without any sleep?"

Marshall smiled. "Honey, don't worry. This is corporate America. It's kind-of understood that sometimes you have to pull an all-nighter in order if something major happens."

Lily frowned. "What major happened?"

"Oh crap!"

So he had to tell her everything anyway.

*--*--*

He's starting to slow down, he knows that now. Over twenty-four hours with no sleep and he grabs a handful of pills, takes a hot, hot shower and he's ready to go. The meeting is a blur. He speaks, they listen. Then he shuts up and they talk and talk and talk. Just as he's getting bored enough to start counting the mints in the bowl at the centre of the conference table, John asks him what he thinks.

He tells them.

Later, Marshall texts him, asking him how the meeting went. Inside, he glows. The pills help. They dampen down the vibrations but he can feel something growing inside him. He has to carry on, push forward, see this to the end.

Steak sauce.