By Any Means Necessary

February 1st

They're all scheduled for one of their normal video chat sessions at 9pm Barney's time, so when Robin calls him over an hour early he suspects something is up. Those suspicions are confirmed once they start talking. Though she does her best her to act casual and normal, he knows her too well and can see right through it. But it's when, ten minutes into their conversation, she sighs and says "I really wish you were here right now" that he starts to actually get a little concerned.

"Okay, out with it, Robin. What's going on?"

"I met my boyfriend's parents today."

"Oh-ho-ho," he stutters out with a chuckle, "that is rough. If I were there I'd be pouring you a double right now."

"Too late." She brings her drink, the second of the night, into frame. "I already have. It was awful," Robin relays in dismay – and judging by her uncharacteristically forlorn expression she well means it.

"See, this is why you run for the hills before you ever get to this point."

She ignores that, though a part of her thinks he might be right. "I took the day off work and we all met up for brunch this morning," she explains.

"Brunch?" Barney repeats in revulsion. "Ech, that is bad."

"It wasn't good, I can tell you that! It's not that they weren't nice people," she adds to be fair. "And they didn't pressure me or anything like that. But they're divorced and….well…." She hems and haws, still reluctant to voice it out loud. "They're basically us."

"Me and you?" he asks, confused.

"No. Me and my boyfriend. It was like looking at a horrifying version of what my future might be. His dad is this head-in-the-clouds romantic, while his mom is much more down to earth and practical, maybe even a bit cynical. His dad wanted kids, the perfect nuclear family; his mom wanted a career and to travel, have adventures. She didn't even want to go out with guy in the beginning, but he spent months badgering her until she finally gave in. Any of that sound familiar?" Robin poses ironically. "She got swept along by him, Barney, by all the things he wanted, until one day years later they woke up and recognized they were both miserable."

She falls into doleful silence, and not knowing what to say he tries to cut the tension by joking, "Isn't that every marriage though?"

"Barney."

"Sorry. You're right. That's an awful lot to deal with at brunch. Way worse than just a clingy one-night stand who can't seem to take the hint."

"Right?" she laughs, and he's pleased to have coaxed a smile out of her. "Looking at them was terrifying. I don't want to be that. But suddenly over runny eggs and cold pancakes I realized that's the road I'm walking down. That could easily be us thirty years into the future. We have different views on family, on life in general: we're them."

"So what are you saying?" Barney asks cautiously, needing this to be her idea. "You want to break up with him?"

"I don't know…." Robin admits eventually, and she really doesn't. "We just want different things. We're very different people. His mom said, 'When you don't connect on that many fundamental levels it's only a matter of time before you realize you're not meant to be together.' She was talking about her and her ex-husband, but she might as well have meant me and her son."

There are advantages and disadvantages to having a boyfriend in general and Ted in particular – and it would be different if she knew what the future held, knew what else was out there for her, had something more of a sense of security. "I feel like my life is in a good place right now. I have a career that seems to maybe finally be headed in the right direction. I have a group of good friends to hang out with, and someone who cares about me there waiting every night – what did you call it, sex on tap?"

"I believe I said 'on demand', but you captured the spirit of the thing."

"I haven't wanted to rock the boat so I've been ignoring it, but we're at odds about almost everything that matters…How long can that really sustain itself, you know?"

Even if they'd been doing this over the regular phone and he couldn't see the look on her face Barney would still be able to tell by her voice alone how conflicted she is. "Look, Robin, I can't tell you what to do but – "

"Really?" she interrupts with a hint of mischievousness. "I thought you specialized in teaching people how to live."

"Yes, but you've clearly been ignoring my teachings or you wouldn't have gotten yourself into a relationship in the first place."

"True," Robin nods dryly.

"What I was going to say is this has to be your decision. Other than my standard 'Don't Ever Get Involved' mantra, it's hard for me to give advice when I haven't seen the two of you together, haven't met the guy – and what's that other thing? Oh yeah, you still won't even tell me his name," he reminds her teasingly.

"That's it?" she smiles glumly. "I was expecting something a little more concrete from my Broda."

Barney sighs. "Okay, how 'bout this: while ordinarily I'd hate to be the aider and abettor to a relationship, for you, I could make an exception," he offers, really hoping she doesn't take him up on it. "I could talk to him, if that's what you want, feel him out for you as a friend. But then, once again, there's that tiny little problem that he doesn't know I exist. Of course, you could easily change that…."

Robin shakes her head 'no'. "It would be a bad idea. You know how guys are, Barney. So territorial and competitive." After a moment, she adds on, "And he doesn't know us and how we are together", which Barney takes to mean the way they flirt with each other. "If he knew we're so close, and that we still talk all the time – "

"And have late-night braless Skype sessions," Barney fills in for her.

She rolls her eyes, grinning at his clowning, at Barney being Barney. "How do you know I'm not wearing a bra?" Robin poses.

She thinks he's joking, he can tell, but he's quite serious.

Barney's eyes drift down to her breasts, going a bit hazy at his perusal. "Cause the girls look all soft and free…And your nips have made a very prominent appearance." He hums his approval, but she pulls the sheet up to cover her chest. "Oh!" he feigns hurt. "You'd deny a man far from home?"

"I'm sure you're seen plenty of them since you've been there."

"Still, I long for the sights of home," he replies, eyes glancing down to the offending sheet hopefully.

Rather than remove it, Robin goads him with, "I'll mail you a postcard of the Empire State Building."

"You're no fun," he frowns.

"Anyway, the point is it would just be best, easiest, if he doesn't know about you. Especially now, when we're having these problems."

Barney doesn't mean to ask it aloud but the questions slips out of his mouth. "So what happens when I get back? Are you defriending me?"

She lets out a huff of dark amusement at that. "I wouldn't worry about it. At the rate we're going you'll out last him, I'm sure." Reflecting on that seriously for a second – her closeness with Barney, the friendship that she couldn't give up for anything – a soft smile warms her expression. "You would anyway. Although, right now you're not being very helpful," she says, playfully ominous.

"I can tell you this: it hasn't even been two months since you've been an item, and in that short time you've already expressed unsureness about it more than once," Barney raises wisely.

"But is that him, or is that just me in a relationship? I mean, would it really be any different with anyone else?"

"There's only one way to find out…."

She understands his meaning immediately – break up with Ted and find another guy, if she's so determined to be in a relationship at all – and it's not that she hasn't considered it herself. But, as Robin tells him, "It's not as easy as that. I've never been a gambler. What if this is as good as it gets? No one wants to throw away their sure thing."

"Life is gambling, Scherbatsky. You moving to New York was gambling. Me walking into AltruCell that first day was gambling. You have to take chances to get anywhere."

Right now, depressed and more than a little buzzed, she's finding an awful lot of sense in what he's saying. "Maybe you're right. Maybe fear is just holding me back."

"So you're gonna break up with him?" Barney conjectures, trying not to let his enthusiasm at the idea show.

"I don't know yet. But I'm starting to think it might be the best thing for both of us."

"I'm only thinking about you, Scherbatsky. Do what's best for you."

When their call ends a few minutes later, rather than rush off to have dinner with James and then hit up the bars to find himself some local talent, as had been the plan up until now, Barney mulls over the conversation they just had.

When he left New York, he said goodbye to his happy, sassy, indomitable Robin, but since she got involved with this mystery guy she's troubled, conflicted, and doubting herself.

And he wasn't there to prevent any of it.

The situation is unacceptable. Which is why, here and now, he's resolving to bring this case in as soon as possible and get back to New York, whatever it takes. No more late nights. No more going out, period. He's determined to hurry this thing through by any means necessary. He may take some flack with Arthur for a rush job but he doesn't care; he's resolved to get it done, get back to Robin and fix whatever the hell this guy has done to her.