Barney got on the shotgun seat and buckled his seatbelt as soon as he had loaded his suitcase in the trunk of Robin's car and she did the same.
Knowing he was about to return to New York City without her, it was a weird moment, the kind of moment one would wish never to sit through.
They sat in silence as she started up the car engine and remained quiet for about the first half of the journey. The strange tension was back, and both felt bittersweet, neither of which had much to say.
"I can't believe it's been a week."
"Me neither," he said. "The gang is going to kill me."
"Why?"
"I haven't bought any souvenirs for any of them and I promised I would. Lily really likes the red telephone booth."
"Oh, that's all right, you have plenty of time before boarding and there are bound to be gift shops around the airport."
"Yeah, hopefully." He replied, his feelings indecisive.
"Don't be so fidgety, there will be." She reassured him and shot him a smile, placing one hand on his knee.
"Don't do that. You're driving."
Retracting her arm, she placed it back on the steering wheel, pursing her lips. "Right. I shouldn't be doing that."
Barney could feel the atmosphere turning stale and uncomfortable and he honestly did not want for that to happen. It felt like they were doing something wrong and it felt like they were secretly in love but were to afraid to admit it.
But that is probably just what I think, he thought. She's just driving and probably thinking about having Chinese takeout tonight with Luke. And I need to stop acting like I know what's going on in her head because I don't think I do. In fact, I don't think anyone does. She's unpredictable. And I love that about her.
"Lame move, but let's turn on the radio," he suggested, reaching out to the panel in between the two of them as he pondered which button it was that controlled the audio system.
Noticing his hesitance, Robin peered at the panel from the corner of her eye. "Press the green one. The one next to the CD player." She instructed, and he obeyed.
'You're listening to BBC Radio One with Nick Grimshaw! Today we will have a nice chat with the ever so lovely and very delightful Emma Watson, who is coming in a little later. Stay tuned…'
The two continued sitting in silence as they listened to the radio, with Barney staring out of the window at the same time, both taking in what Nick was rambling on about without the slightest trace of wanting to interrupt and break the dead air.
'…I miss The Carpenters! They were absolutely brilliant. Here we have Close To You, one of my favourites from them. I don't think I'll ever get over how good this song is. Again, this song is called Close To You by The Carpenters. Enjoy.'
As promised, Close To You started playing, and Robin must have felt something click inside of her.
"I love this song!" She blurted, feeling a pang of excitement. "Turn it up!" She yelped, eyes still focused on the road and hands on the steering wheel.
"Anything for you," He said, and smiled as he did. He reached over to the panel and fidgeted with the buttons once again, finally finding the one to turn up the volume only about fifteen seconds later.
"Thank you," she chirped.
"I don't know why we aren't talking," Barney started, shaking his head lightly. "If we're going to be spending the next half hour stuck with each other, we might as well make the most out of it. Besides, after an hour or more, we'll be yearning for another reunion."
"The airport's just round the corner so it'll probably only take about ten more minutes for us to arrive. Plus, now you're talking over the song," Robin replied, gesturing for him to be quiet.
Noticing he had gone quiet after her remark, she realised she had hurt him unintentionally.
"I'm not serious. Come on, talk to me! You're not getting rid of me just yet." She quipped, shooting him another look from the corner of her eye, encouraging a conversation.
And he complied.
The rest of the car ride – albeit was a short time – picked up pace and the dull atmosphere was lifted off the shoulders of the two once again. They talked their heads off, for as long as possible, as if they had a thousand things on their minds they desperately needed to share with each other. It was the best kind of talking – the kind where one felt as though there never is – and never would be – enough time in the world for their conversations.