Chapter 9: I Think You're Slipping

"Barney?" Marshall Eriksen called for his friend as he poked his head inside the unoccupied office, "Hello? You in here?"

Marshall didn't wait for the reply he knew wouldn't come and slipped inside the office. Barney's door clicked shut behind him. The big man needlessly tip-toed over to Stinson's desk, afraid of getting caught unsupervised in the…whatever-the-heck-Barney-did's office. He had had a quiet morning, so instead of attempting to stick pencils in the ceiling Marshall drafted several Comeback Prank ideas for him and Barney to pull on Butterfield. He took his job as Barney's Executive Mischief Consultant with pride. His plans didn't involve any white mice this time (that experiment failed miserably). Instead Marshall figured a combination of peanut butter, WD-40, and an oscillating fan would do the trick.

He laid the plans down triumphantly on Barney's desk. He noticed he had placed them right next to a very familiar pair of binoculars and wondered what Clark Butterfield was doing right now. Was he still gloating? Or was he trembling in fear—as he should be—awaiting Barney's counterstrike. Marshall picked up the binoculars. What the heck. Nobody was around and it's not like he had anything better to do.

Eriksen stepped up to the window and applied the binoculars to his face. At first he didn't see anything. He knew the location of Butterfield's office by heart now so it wasn't like he got the wrong office. Maybe Clark had stepped out for a bit. Marshall adjusted his sights a bit and something, a red colored flash of sorts, caught his eye from the far normally empty corner of Butterfield's office. The pudgy man slid into Marshall's view as the former collapsed lifelessly from his chair and fell beneath the window panels.

"What the…" the lawyer wondered aloud. Another figure, unrecognizable with his back to the window and in the strange lighting of the office held a gun. At least Marshall thought it looked like a gun. A huge gun.

"Holy crap," did somebody just shoot Butterfield?

The second figure dashed from the room, gun in hand. When the office appeared to be empty Marshall willed for Clark to stand back up, to laugh and dance another silly victory dance. It was another prank. Butterfield had pulled one on Marshall today as well. He was getting good.

Only Butterfield never stood back up. After a while the second man—or maybe a different one, Marshall wasn't paying that much attention to him before—rushed back in. The man immediately bounced across the room and pulled shut the large window's blinds. His view was cut off before the lawyer could get a decent look.

"That is not good," Marshall nervously admitted, hopping across a chair to grab Barney's office landline.

Barney Stinson groaned as he dragged Clark Butterfield's limp body across the floor. Somebody has been eating one too many Ring-Dings and he really wished he remembered to bring 'The Claw'. That device would have made lifting Chubby Snow so much easier! He also wished he remembered to close the blinds earlier. The doctor was lucky, however, that he remembered to take his freeze ray on this assignment. The tool was what allowed the villain to bypass the rest of Butterfield's floor. He also made sure to temporarily jam the elevator to prevent any other interruptions. He was counting on the time it took to call maintenance and the amount of time it took the freeze ray to wear out to lug Butterfield out of there… or at least into the nearest elevator where he had stashed his other weapon.

Barney paused for a moment. He had managed to drag his no longer non-nemesis nearly out the doorway and needed to catch his breath. His body might be in tight shape but he certainly wasn't a weight lifter…or even athletic. He shook out his hands; the tips of Barney's fingers had turned red from digging into Butterfield's cheap ass suit jacket.

And then the mad scientist suddenly found himself staring down at the man who would probably never receive a posthumous honorary induction into the Heroes Guild. Butterfield's face was pale, sickly pale. His eyes remained closed as if he was sleeping, but no dreamy flutters disturbed his lids. No part of his icy limbs twitched. None of the annoying man's usual idiotic expressions were still plastered on his face, not even fear. Butterfield's mouth just hung open, his tongue nearly dropping out the side.

Barney frowned a little, expecting to feel worse about his current predicament. What had he just done? He waited patiently for the guilt to come in any form. For a moment Barney wondered exactly what he was waiting for; a big red 'K' for killer to pop out of his chest?

Killing is not elegant or creative, it's not my style, Billy protested from within. Oh, that was it. His scarlet letter was the imaginary voice inside his brain. You don't kill people.

"Yes I do," Barney responded aloud, rolling his eyes as if it was that obvious all along. His eye roll was unfortunately followed by a conditioned blink. As he squeezed his eyes shut Barney wondered how that trait had suddenly become un-extinct. He cursed himself a little for giving so easily in to his old habit.

You're slipping, Billy's voice taunted, I think you're slipping.

Barney opened his mouth to yell right back but wasn't given the chance.

"Billy?" a confused voice inquired. Barney's heart-rate increased tenfold. He knew that voice, that soft, earthy, tentative, wonderful voice. Instead of freezing solid Barney's body did the exact opposite of what he expected and immediately turned to confront the girl standing just outside Butterfield's office.

"What are you doing?" Penny asked. Barney surveyed his hallucination. Penny looked…remarkable in her green sweater, eating her cup of frozen yogurt as her auburn hair fell gracefully over her shoulders. Her spork hovered just before her mouth, a glob of yogurt melting on the plastic tool. She eyed Barney curiously, expecting the truth she was far too innocent to be allowed to know.

"Nothing!" he responded like a hormonal teenager, "Just taking care of some business," he reached down to grab Butterfield by the shoulders once more in an effort to divert his gaze away from Penny, "why do you care? You're not real!" maybe if he said that aloud she would simply disappear. Or not.

"Just seems wrong that's all," Penny shrugged, sliding the spork into her mouth. The disappointment in her voice was evident.

"Yeah well, I'm evil," Barney snapped without hesitation, "'wrong' is sort of what I do!"

"That's not what I meant," Penny solemnly sighed. She swirled her spork around and around in her yogurt cup, as if the action would keep her eyes from spying on Barney in the same why he used Clark to avoid her, "it's just not like you…"

Sliiiip-pingggg, Billy reminded.

"You don't know me!" Barney grunted defensively.

"No, I guess not, Barney," Penny huffed, stabbing her spork into her clearly melted dessert. It made him wince, the harsh tone she used.

"Yeah, well, now that we've got that cleared up, scram!" he wasn't about to let her think she had wounded him.

Penny said nothing. Billy mumbled something incoherent. Barney kept dragging the body across office carpet, careful not to tear off either of Butterfield's shoes. Penny wasn't gone though. Barney could see her out of the corner of his eye just standing there, watching him struggle to dispose of his garbage. She kept giving him that same look: pity, mixed with disappointment and disapproval and of course her signature innocence. It gnawed at Barney's already fraying nerves. Why couldn't see just leave?! She wasn't real! She was just a figment of his imagination so why couldn't he make her go away?!

Everything's slipping away… Billy sang low. What? Did that include his sanity too?!

"What?!" Barney shouted directly at Penny. He dropped Butterfield with a heavy 'thunk'.

Again Penny shrugged, taking a spoonful of liquid yogurt before matter-of-factly answering, "I think you're making a bad decision."

"Well you don't get to influence my decisions!" Barney screamed. He pointed a thumb at his chest and had to retrain himself from leaping over Clark's body to shout in Penny's face. Anger, this wasn't numb. He was losing control, "You're—" Barney wanted to yell at her some more but his throat simply wouldn't permit one word from escaping, "you're gone," he said softer, almost deflated. He blinked then. One, two, three more times his lids flapped senselessly.

Penny said nothing. She simply stared, eyebrows raised in mild shock at his outburst.

Barney needed to regain his composure, show her he wasn't pathetic 'Billy Buddy' anymore. He smoothed his jacket, "The Barnacle flies solo."

"That's a mixed metaphor," Penny interjected lightly but Barney ignored her.

"He makes his own decisions!" he finished with a quick cock of his head to the side.

"Except for when the League tells you what to do?" it was Penny's turn to be angry, she scrapped her spork against the insides of the Styrofoam cup, "like when they told you to stop talking to Moist?"

"They had their reasons," Barney defended the decision he hated.

"Or that you could only work on specific pre-approved assignments?" the doctor attempted to defend himself once more, raising a bold finger but was yet again shut down before being able to speak, "or when they told you to abandon me?"

"That's different," Barney said slowly, "you were already…" he still couldn't force the word from his mouth, "gone."

"Or kill an innocent man?" Penny pointed her utensil at Butterfield's body in disgust and sighed, "The League's been telling you to do a lot of things lately." She said softer.

Yes they have, added Billy, and you've obediently followed orders, but killing? Isn't that how you lost Penny? I'd give anything not to have Penny see me like this…

Barney couldn't take it anymore. The tag-team duo his warped mind created would whittle him down to nothing if he let them keep this up, "Why can't you just leave me alone?" his voice held no anger or trace of inflated ego, "the both of you, shut up."

"Billy," Penny reached out to him and he yanked away.

"You're…" the doctor gulped, swallowing the enormous lump that blockaded his throat. He couldn't say it, not looking at her like that. He averted his blues from her lovely green, "dead."

"Keep telling yourself that," Penny whispered. Barney glanced up, but it was too late. She was gone. Even after he had gotten what he wanted the scientist kept searching, turning every which way for a better view of the hall, hoping Penny would somehow be standing there again. He tripped over Butterfield once and realized that was it, she really was gone. But Barney still didn't budge. He lingered there, unwilling to admit he already missed her, thinking that any moment Billy would speak up to berate him. He didn't. Nothing happened.

Barney ran a shaky hand over his hair. It was good they didn't come back. He didn't have time for idle chit-chat. There was work to be done.

Author's Notes:

1. I'm going on vacation soon for a week, so if I stop updating abruptly for eight days don't panic.

2. I'm really glad everybody is enjoying this. You're reviews are awesome, and no, I haven't forgotten about Ted or Robin or Marshall. Trust me ;).

3. Okay, so, Beth (sigh) the email I tried sending you failed so here's the basics of it. You're awesome. Thanks so much for leaving me that stellar review, I really appreciate it and thanks a bunch for recommending this story to your friends. Pass on my thanks to them for the kind words as well. My goal is to entertain the readers, all of you, so I am once again saying how happy that review made me! Thanks again.

And thanks to everybody who has reviewed or shown any form of love to this story. I appreciate it. You guys rock. =)