Over the next couple of weeks, Barney seemed to shift back into the same cautious, tentative mode he'd been in with Ted since they'd made their secret "arrangement". Ted's most recent test had served its purpose, in reminding Barney that he was still not out of the woods yet when it came to earning back Ted's friendship – and reminding him of just who exactly was in control of the entire situation.
Had to happen, Ted told himself. He was getting a false sense of security there for a little while – and that's not good for either of us.
Ted continued to make it worth Barney's while to continue going through with his tests, spending more time with him one-on-one than he'd ever spent in the course of their friendship, being his wingman when he needed one, doing everything he could to not only appear to be Barney's friend again in front of their other friends, but to really be Barney's friend again – and Barney seemed grateful for it.
Still, there was always this underlying tension, stretched taut just below the surface. The uncertainty in Barney's eyes when he'd cast an anxious, questioning look in Ted's direction while the others were distracted; the cautious way he still avoided making jokes at Ted's expense, or paying too much attention to Robin; the way he seemed so pitifully eager to please, all the time these days – it was all both deeply unsettling, and immensely satisfying to Ted.
And if Barney was confused – well, it just seemed to be the order of the day.
Ted was having troubles of his own, figuring out what he wanted, what he hoped to accomplish with this whole complicated game that seemed to be getting more complicated by the day.
Ted found himself more and more preoccupied with thoughts of his would-be best friend, and it wasn't all related to the tests he was putting him through. Even when Barney wasn't around, Ted found himself wondering where he was, what he was doing. He found himself contemplating the next time they would spend time together, all day long while he was trying to work, and even when he was spending time with other friends.
On some level, Ted knew that this preoccupation was not exactly normal, and wondered what was causing it – but it was not the most troubling development he was experiencing.
He'd never have thought that he would ever find himself jealous over Barney.
Ted watched from their usual booth at MacLaren's, pretending to listen to whatever funny story Lily was telling about her day at work – but really, his attention was focused across the room, where Barney leaned on the bar, chatting up an attractive blonde.
He was wearing a lavender shirt under a charcoal pin-striped suit that fit him entirely too well, and his brilliant smile was in full effect as he rolled his eyes and shook his head, feigning self-conscious denial over something the woman beside him had just said – no doubt some flattering comment that he was pretending not to believe.
When Barney ducked in closer to the woman, reaching out a casual hand to brush against her arm before getting the attention of the bartender to get her another drink, Ted bit back a growl of frustration. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to call Barney over to their table and stop him from carrying out the rest of his seduction.
But you can't. It'd just look too weird. Besides, the last thing you need is for him to realize that you actually care who he goes home with tonight…
And… why do you care, anyway?
He tried to focus on the conversation at his table, with an effort dragging his gaze away from Barney and his latest conquest; but within moments he found himself distracted again, his eyes compulsively taking in the artful innocence with which Barney was stalking his prey – all smooth words and warm smiles and false vulnerability mingled with suave confidence.
Ted wanted to strip it all away – to take the façade apart piece by piece until nothing was left but the very genuine vulnerability and need beneath it. He imagined Barney slowly losing that careful composure, his defenses falling away…
God, what is wrong with you? This is Barney, for Pete's sake!
Why are you thinking this way?
Ted tried to ignore the way his breath quickened, his heart pounding and his palms damp at the unbidden thoughts that filled his mind, as he muttered a half-hearted excuse that he didn't even remember the next minute, and left the table, heading away from MacLaren's and Barney's incredibly confusing presence as quickly as he could manage.
Judging by the way the pretty blonde, Holly, was glancing at him from beneath lowered lashes, touching her hair and casually touching him whenever she could get away with it, Barney knew that he was only minutes away from closing the deal with this one. He reached out across the bar to gently brush his fingertips across her wrist, lowering his voice to a hushed, suggestive tone as he leaned in to whisper in her ear.
Just as his cell phone went off, loudly shattering the moment by letting him know he'd received a text message.
Under ordinary conditions, Barney would have simply ignored it and checked it later.
These days, he didn't dare.
A heavy knot settled in the pit of his stomach as he took the phone from his pocket and flipped it open. He knew even before he read the message on the screen that it was from Ted.
"Why don't you take your new friend upstairs?"
Barney's stomach lurched, and he glanced back toward the table, where Marshall and Lily now sat by themselves. Robin had left for work an hour earlier, and Ted had at some point disappeared – and apparently, at some point not that long ago. He quickly set his phone to vibrate – just in case – and then shot back a quick text with one hand while pretending to listen to whatever Holly was saying.
"Why?"
The sick, nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach intensified when his phone vibrated in his hand again, and he glanced subtly down at the screen while Holly was distracted, trying to get the bartender's attention to order another drink. Barney's heart clenched when he read the sharp words on the screen.
"Just do as you're told."
Barney instinctively bristled at that, but managed to suppress his annoyance for a moment, giving Holly a bright smile. "Would you excuse me for just a minute?" he asked in his most charming, apologetic tone. "I promise I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."
He made his way to the privacy of the men's room, locking himself into an empty stall before typing out his answer to Ted's demand.
"Why? Are you up there waiting so you can watch, pervert?"
The wait for Ted's response was unnervingly long. Barney swallowed hard, staring at the blank phone and wondering if he had accidentally hit on exactly the truth. Finally, however, his phone lit up with a new message.
"EW. No. Quit asking why. The whole point is that it doesn't MATTER why. You just do what I want you to do."
Barney raised a single eyebrow at his phone, still confused, but tremendously relieved.
"And right now, what you want me to do is to have sex with a stranger in your apartment? You're a sick, sick man, Mosby."
Long moments passed, and Barney had almost decided that Ted wasn't going to reply, when the next message came through.
"Left the door unlocked for you, so hurry up. Don't want it left unattended for long."
And then another, immediately following it:
"Don't even think about using my bed, or the couch."
Barney frowned, shaking his head slightly, trying to think what options that left him.
When it finally dawned on him, he froze, an icy trickle making its way down his back.
Robin's bed…
"Okay, Mosby, that's just wrong."
"Sleeping with your bro's ex is what's wrong. This is nothing."
Barney opened a new blank message, but he was still trying to come up with a decent response when his phone vibrated again.
"Just do it, Barney. Or not. Your call."
Fifteen minutes later, Barney was leading Holly up the stairs to Ted's apartment, only hoping that the place looked decent, and neither Ted nor Robin had left anything lying out that might serve to be an embarrassment to him. He took out his own key and pretended to unlock the already unlocked door before leading her inside.
As soon as he could, he excused himself to the kitchen with the excuse of making Holly a drink, but his mind was racing, completely preoccupied with the conversation he'd had with Ted, and Ted's most recent orders.
Why would he want me to do this? Is this just some kind of sick, twisted form of payback on Robin, in his mind? Or some way to prove to me, in some typically convoluted, pseudo-psychological Ted-logic way, that what I did with Robin really was just meaningless sex? Like, if I could do this with some other chick, in her bed…
God, I can't do this… but… but if I don't…
"Barney?" Holly called, a teasing laugh in her voice. "Did you get lost in there?"
"Just a minute," Barney called back, too distracted to even try not to sound distracted. "Be right there."
How will he even know if I go through with it or not? Surely he's not lost it enough to have like… planted a camera in Robin's room, or something like that? No, not Ted…
… but… then what's keeping me from just… calling this off and sending this chick home right now?
Barney didn't really know the answer to that question – only that something was keeping him from calling it off. He wasn't sure how Ted could possibly know whether or not he went through with his demands, when Ted was not here to see for himself; but somehow, he knew deep down that Ted would know.
And it's not like you weren't going to sleep with her anyway. It's not like you're doing anything that different than what you were already going to do. It's just… that you're doing it in Robin's bed…
God, what are you doing? This is so… so wrong…
But Barney took the drinks back into the living room, lingering only a little while before coaxing Holly into the bedroom. He didn't turn on the lights – didn't want to risk any unfortunate photos or undergarments or other personal things of Robin's being seen, and thereby giving away the fact that this was not his own room.
He also didn't want to have to think about where he was, and what he was doing there.
Robin will never know, he reassured himself. It's not going to matter, because she'll never know about this…
But… if she ever did…
Barney tried his best to put it out of his mind and simply do what he'd done before, countless other nights. He tried to focus on the feeling of soft skin beneath his fingertips… a warm, welcoming mouth yielding to his slow, enticing kisses… the soft sounds of pleasure that issued from the mouth of the woman beneath him – and for the most part, he managed to stay in the moment.
Holly certainly didn't seem to notice anything off.
About twenty minutes after they'd finished, however, Barney found himself faking an emergency phone call. He offered profuse apologies, promising to call her, as he hurriedly got dressed, pretending to have to leave to go to the hospital to meet a friend who'd just been taken there.
"That's okay, I totally understand," Holly assured him, sitting up and pulling the blankets up around her. "Should I just… I'll just get dressed and go."
"Thanks." Barney nodded with a smile that was both grateful and regretful at once. "It's just… my roommate might freak out if he came home and there was a stranger here, you know?"
"That's fine," she insisted. "I just hope your friend's all right."
Oh, no. My friend is so completely and totally not all right.
"Thanks," Barney offered weakly as he walked Holly to the door. "I'll call you."
More than ever, he was absolutely certain that he would never be calling her again. And if she happened to be the obsessive, clingy type and ended up showing up at Ted's door looking for him at some later point in time, well – it would serve Ted right.
Barney returned to the bedroom to get his phone, watch, and wallet from the bedside table, turning on the light on his way into the room. He tried not to look at the bed – Robin's bed – as he finished putting himself together, prepared to get out of that room, out of Ted's apartment, as quickly as possible.
A slight creaking sound drew his attention from his morose thoughts, and Barney glanced up in the direction the sound seemed to have come from – Robin's closet.
The door was open an inch or two.
Barney froze, his mind racing as the pieces began to fall into place.
How could Ted possibly know if I did what he said or not? Why was he so insistent that it be exactly here, and nowhere else? Why would he want me to do this in the first place?
Barney turned deliberately away from the closet, putting his wallet into his pocket and heading toward the door. In the doorway, however, he paused, not quite looking toward the closet as he smirked and spoke in a knowing tone of barely veiled mockery.
"Bye, Ted. Hope you enjoyed the show."
The muffled thud, followed by the sound of startled movement from behind the closet door was all the confirmation Barney needed – and immensely satisfying. Without waiting for the impending confrontation, he walked out of Robin's room, and out of Ted's apartment, slamming the door behind him