I wanted to focus on everything they want to say, having gone through that traumatic experience. So. . .

She feels him shift beside him, groaning, sitting up slowly. Suddenly, she feels ashamed of herself. Having said what she did, though she was certain at the time he was asleep. What if he did happen to hear?

'How are you feeling?' she asks him, trying to feel her way through.

'Awesome.' He winces.

'Hungry?'

'No.' His eyes widen. He pushes his hands against the ground, trying to stand. She stops him.

'What are you doing? Sit down.'

'He dropped something, the guy who brings us food. I think it's important.'

'I'll look for it, all right?'

It's a soiled piece of paper, a note. By the faint dawn light, she reads it out loud for him.

'Telephone, three doors to the right. Wait for signal of five knocks.'

XXX

They stare at each other, pure shock in their faces. He wants to kiss her. But she would hate that, wouldn't she? Just as much as she'd hated him. He doesn't want to cross that now.

'The first thing I'll be doing when we get out is—'

'To get checked out at the hospital.'

'No, not even.' He grins, pulling himself up slowly. Hospital would need to be second. 'My tailor. This suit can still be salvaged, you know. It's Armani.'

She rolls her eyes. But it means the world to him, to just barely catch the corner of her lip twist as she tries to hide a smile.

XXX

They wait, in anticipation of their freedom. Knowing it's all going to end seems to have given them a new life. They talk more, now. They aren't so hesitant to hope, to smile, to joke around, and she's relieved by the lifting of the tension between them. Well, for the most part.

They don't talk about that night, avoiding it like they do with every other problem. That's their sin. She doesn't say I was so scared, there's so much we still have to fix, so much between us. I've been lying all this time. You always were the braver one. I couldn't even stomach watching you suffer, knowing I've put you through hell before.

It's simple, really, why she can't. Robin Scherbatsky doesn't say stuff like that. Her pride. She swallows it.

She sits so that her arm is touching his, light enough that it won't hurt him. It's comforting. They were never the super affectionate couple they had fun pretending to be, just before they burned out. But they were always in touch. She liked that about them. His arm around her shoulders. Her hand on his leg. Playing footsie under the table. And for the most part, they always knew what the other was thinking. They never needed lame signals like rhinoceros.

'Robin,' he starts. 'There are some stuff you need to understand. About me and this situation we're in. I'm going to tell you something none of my friends know.'

She nods. 'You can trust me.'

'All right. Here goes.'

He leans into her. Whispers his secret.

'That's your job?' she asks afterward, almost laughing. 'I never knew that even existed.'

'It doesn't.' He winks.

'Right.'

'Well, look around, Robin. This is what happens when people find out what I do.'

'So the thing in Germany about—'

He smiles wryly. 'Yes, that was us.'

'And the crisis in Mexico?'

'Pretty much.'

She shakes her head, remembers reporting on that story. Rumors were swirling around, then, nobody had a clue who'd done it, fingers were pointed everywhere. And there he was, right in front of her all along.

'We violated a previous deal by canceling the contract,' Barney continues. 'It wasn't just because we were concerned with our image. It was because we didn't want to attach ourselves with a company that was going broke.'

'So they were desperate and you jumped ship.'

'Yeah. We severed all ties. The vice-president killed himself. They closed down—thousands of jobs were lost.'

'Don't you ever feel bad about that?'she asks, curious. With all that he does, sometimes she wonders if he ever feels guilty about anything.

'One of the few things that keep me up at night,' he admits.

'What are the others?'

He glances at her. And she won't go there, won't even take the risk of looking at his astonishingly honest blue eyes. Get a hold of yourself, she thinks.

XXX

He scans her face for any sign of recognition. Is she that oblivious? Because he's pretty sure anyone would see through him right now. Only Robin reduces him back to feeling like that peace-loving, tie-dye-wearing, wide-eyed loser he once was. Like he's chasing something he can never have. He once thought suiting up, getting filthy rich and powerful, breaking other women's hearts would protect his from ever being smashed again. And with Robin, it's not just once. It's a slow process, a game they're playing because they're both too screwed up and scared for anything. Their first try? He'll be honest in saying they were never all in. They held on to their old lives. Something to fall back on.

'Oh, you know.' He tries to wave it off, shrugging. He feels sick. 'The usual stuff. Like, if one day I'd wash up onshore without a face.'

'Right. The usual stuff.'

She's so close he can feel her. Only, her wall, her insecurity, is up so high and strong he can't get through it. Nothing gives her away. None of his womanizing tricks or the experience he's built up from observing women and responding, detecting their emotions, their needs, charming them—none of that has ever worked on her.

You're perfect, he wants to tell her. She's always had her Daddy issues, commitment issues, career issues. We could be too.

What's left of his suit reminds him it's just too cheesy to say.

I'm not planning to drag this story for too long. . .I'd lose interest. I'm kind of running out, but I'm trying to stay on track. For you guys. :)

So, please review. Good or bad. Suggestions. Ideas. Anything. Even one word. All welcomed here.