hello again! i was blown away (in a good way) by the positive response this story got — i was really expecting people to be like WTF R U DOING, lmao. to semi clarify things for readers, this story WILL end up with ted/tracy and barney/robin pairs, but tracy/barney is not just a fake out until that happens — this isn't patrice 2.0, they really are going to be dating. i can weirdly kind of picture it, you know? it'd be kind of cute? :P
It's already dark out by the time Tracy gets home, and her apartment is dark. "I'm home," she calls out anyway, even though she hasn't had a roommate for a year; she kicks off her shoes, turns on a lamp, and flops down onto the sofa. She thinks about at least turning on the TV, so she can act like she's doing something besides just lying there, but her arm is folded under her and the remote is on the coffee table and…
For a little while she just lies there, and then she drags herself upright just long enough to fetch her phone out of her purse. She calls Kelly.
"Hello?"
"I broke up with Lewis," Tracy says, already listing back to her previous horizontal position.
"You — what? Hang on a sec." From all the background noise, Kelly is out somewhere — maybe a bar. For about half a second Tracy wishes she'd been invited, but if Kelly had, she would have said no, because she was in the middle of breaking up with her boyfriend. So that wouldn't have panned out. "Okay," Kelly says a minute later, coming back on the line. "Okay, I'm in the alley. What happened? Do you need me to come over? Lewis dumped you? What the hell?"
"No, I broke up with him," Tracy says again, rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling.
"Why?"
It's a pretty fair question, because Tracy wasn't planning this before three days ago. "Did you like him?" she asks.
"Sure. Lewis was a great guy," Kelly says, but in a matter-of-fact voice without much passion. "Unless he cheated on you. Did he?"
"No," Tracy says. "He was — god, he was really upset. He didn't see it coming at all." Her feeling numb shock that she actually — for real — just did this — is starting to peel away; she feels the waves of guilt starting to creep in. "He was all, why? Did I do something? Aren't we happy? And I had to be like," she sniffles a little, "no, this is all me, it's not you…"
"You dumped him with 'it's not you, it's me?'" Kelly echoes. Tracy sniffles again. "Ohh, honey. I'll come right over," Kelly adds quickly.
"No, it's okay," Tracy says, really meaning the opposite. "I just felt awful about it. I had to kind of keep my eyes closed the whole time, or I would have started just bawling. I hate having to have done that to him!"
"Sweetie," Kelly coos. "It's okay. I'm sure you did what you had to do."
Tracy nods and rubs her nose on her sleeve. She had her eyes closed or on the floor the whole time, so thank god, she has no mental images of Lewis's face to haunt her dreams, but at one point he'd asked her point blank, why? Tracy, I love you. I thought we were going to spend our lives together, and it had absolutely crushed her. She still hears it on echo, Tracy, I love you. She tells all this to Kelly, crying a little at the memory, from both guilt and actual sadness. "…Like I could tell, I was really messing him up, and I hate it, I really hate it. But I realized as he was saying it, part of my brain was just, this isn't right. He just wasn't — the right person. He wasn't the guy I wanted to hear that from. And I've really known that for a while now, but it's not like Lewis is a bad guy, so…"
"So he was more into you two than you were?"
"I guess so," Tracy says, all heartfelt and still crying a little. "I didn't know how much until today, until he was asking me why and I just had no answer. I mean, what was I supposed to tell him? I lost the love of my life when I was eighteen and was just settling for you?"
"Tracy…" Kelly says in this loaded tone of voice: she's been pushing Tracy to move on, whatever that even means, for a few years now. And Tracy loves her forever and Kelly is one of the few people who has really stuck with her over the years, but she just doesn't get it. Some things can't be replaced or topped.
"So, it wasn't fair to him, and the worst part is, I'm not even… I'm sad, but I'm not heartbroken, just like diaper man said, so that just makes me feel worse, because now I feel like I'm just this heartless…" Tracy trails off.
"Diaper man?"
"This guy I met the other day," Tracy says. "It was that or Suit Guy, and I thought diapers were a bit more humiliating." Barney. Barney Stinson. It's his fault, this whole thing; somehow her conversation with him, him talking about his fiancée and his own lost love and settling, making her think of Max, trying to move on from Max and really just jumping sideways. It wasn't like Lewis was a bad guy, like they never had fun together or good times. But she wasn't in love with him, not really. "He tried to hit on me and we ended up talking. He's in the same situation I am, except he'd already broken up with Lewis. I mean, his fiancée, not actually Lewis, that would be a little weird. Not weird weird, just one heck of a crazy coincidence." She laughs dryly. "His name's Barney. He seems like a nice guy," she muses.
"Tracy McConnell!" Kelly interjects. "Did you dump Lewis for another man?"
"No," Tracy laughs, then she remembers. "Although he did give me his number."
"Oho!" Kelly says with relish. "Tracy, I had no idea that was your game. This is amazing. Is he hot?"
"I guess," Tracy says. "He's pretty tall. And blond, if that's what you're into. Maybe I will call him," she decides abruptly. He'd sort of asked her out, after all, and more selfishly than that, she's still all jumbled up about Lewis and now Max again. Barney seems like he might get that. Maybe he can help. Tracy's suddenly struck with an elaborate mental fantasy, where they have this first date and hit it off and there's a whirlwind montage, them in a farmer's market, them at a concert, them visiting Max's grave together. In every image she's middle aged and so is he — a bit blurrily so, because Tracy can't remember his features enough to really imagine it — and they have a comfortable, quiet life of mutual understanding and settling and heartbreak. Like she'd had with Lewis, except without Lewis being more into it than her, forcing her to break his heart and lie on her sofa hating herself after.
"— you do, make sure to let me scope him out, and I can call Jake up or something so we can go on a double date, and, Tracy, are you even still there?" Kelly is asking.
"Huh? Yeah. Don't get ahead of yourself," Tracy says, to herself as much as to Kelly.
"Okay, okay," Kelly says. "But seriously, this is huge. I have never ever seen you throw yourself out there like this! Dump a man and land a new one in the same day? You?"
"You're right," Tracy realizes with dawning horror. "Crap! I can't call him! I'm gonna come off as totally crazy —"
"No! No! You'll come off as totally sane!"
"You just want me to follow in your footsteps!"
"Well, yeah, but —" Kelly laughs loudly in Tracy's ear. "Okay. Close your eyes."
"Kelly," Tracy complains, closing them.
"Was breaking up with Lewis the right thing to do?" she asks.
"Yes," Tracy says, taking a deep breath to fight the new wave of guilt and grief. She's going to draw a bath and cry it out later.
"Do you like this new guy?"
"I only talked to him once," Tracy says, her eyes still shut.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Didn't ask if you were in love with him. Do you like him? Wanna talk to him ever again?"
Tracy takes another deep breath. She remembers him standing in front of her at the bus stop, looking her in the eye and saying I like you, Tracy McConnell. She likes someone who can do that without hesitation. "Yes," she says, feeling pretty sure.
"Does liking this guy have anything to do with breaking up with Lewis?"
"Well, kind of, since it was us talking that…"
"No," Kelly interrupts. "Come on, don't get all Law & Order on me here. Did you feelings for him ruin your relationship with Lewis?"
"I don't have feelings for him." Tracy takes a final deep breath; more like an exasperated sigh. "No," she says. Then she laughs tiredly. "Okay, fine, you win. I'll call him."
First, Robin drops by Columbia. Ted's obviously surprised to see her when she walks into his office (hers is like, three times the size of his, she notes with some pride), but Robin doesn't give him time to speak. "Hey, Ted, I was wondering, you wanna get some lunch?"
"Sure!" Ted says, still looking surprised. "I have to finish up here," he says, gesturing towards his cluttered desk, "but give me five minutes? What are you doing in the neighborhood?"
"Oh, you know," Robin shrugs. She sits in the only other chair in the room, looking at Ted across the desk with some bemusement. Even three years later, it's really hard for her to mentally picture him as a teacher, but with the Arcadian mostly finished, he's mentioned he's going to take on more classes next year. Good for Ted, Robin supposes.
"Where did you want to go?" Ted asks. "I have a meeting at three, but —"
"MacLaren's," Robin interrupts.
Ted frowns a little. "Really?"
"Uh, yeah? It's, like, the best bar in New York," Robin echoes, matching his incredulity.
"I'm not disputing the facts in evidence," Ted says. "But for lunch? Maybe we can go somewhere a little … closer?"
"I really wanna go to MacLaren's!" Robin says, her voice accidentally going kind of high at the end. "Come on, Ted!"
"We'll go later tonight!" Ted says, chuckling nervously. "What's the rush?"
"Barney's having his date with whats-her-face in fifteen minutes!" Robin whines. "Don't you wanna crash it?"
Ted hesitates. "No, not really."
Robin hadn't expected that answer. She blinks, and leans towards him, reaching her hand across the desk to maybe physically drag him to their bar. "Come on, Teddy," she says. "It'll be fun! We get to make fun of the poor, dumb bimbo Barney is tricking into banging, get a nice afternoon drunk on, maybe run upstairs and say hi to Lily and the baby, what's not to like? Come on! Come on. You know you wanna. Come on, Mosby —"
"I don't want to!" Ted interrupts loudly. He clears his throat. "I mean, sure, watching Barney ruin his own life is always quality entertainment," Robin nods, sure she's got him, "but this feels a little… stalkery."
"It's not like we don't follow you on your first dates," Robin says. "Anyway, she sounds really suspicious, you know? Poor Barney's just gonna get taken advantage of and get his heart broken again. You know, I bet she's a hooker. 'Tracy' is totally a hooker name."
"That is true, but," Ted clears his throat. "He seemed like he was having an actual conversation with her the other day, and I think we should reinforce Barney's positive behavior when it happens. If he wants to get a new girlfriend instead of clinging desperately to his youth, aren't we all kind of winning?"
Robin thinks about it for a second. "No," she says. "I don't trust this. The whole situation is fishy."
They stare at one another across the table for a moment, at a stalemate. "So," Ted says hopefully, "there's a pretty good Greek place nearby?"
Robin goes to MacLaren's by herself, because she doesn't really have to be at work until 6:45 for the evening broadcast and has the time to kill. Or anyway, that's what she says to Barney when she spots him. He's already waiting in the booth for his so-called "date." Barney's wearing a blue tie. Robin knows that blue brings out his eyes and is what he favors when he's trying to impress someone, so she's immediately pretty suspicious.
"So, what's this tramp's name again?" she asks. They're both nibbling from a bowl of cheese crackers, and Robin grabs one of the few non-crumbled ones for herself.
"Tracy," Barney says, glancing out towards the door when he says her name.
"And you met that night you got me a samosa," Robin says. "That's so funny. Why didn't you mention her then?" He'd shown up at the apartment with her samosa and Marvin's diapers so late that Robin had started to worry he'd found a girl and taken her home. She'd been relieved when he finally had shown up, but obviously that was a big trick.
"I don't know," Barney shrugs. He winces, and sighs. "I… I didn't really…"
The hesitation causes Robin an immediate pang of worry and other feelings. "Hey… are you okay?" she asks, automatically reaching for him…
"I didn't actually get her number!" Barney sobs loudly. "I failed the challenge! I'm sorry!" He covers his face with his hand and looks away. "I was ashamed!"
Well, that killed her feelings. Robin eats another cracker. "It's weird that she called you. Is she a prostitute?"
"No," Barney says with conviction. She doesn't know if that means he asked or he can just tell these things; both seem likely, and are a good damper on whatever wisps of emotion she'd had left. "Although," he says, and launches into a story about a hooker he'd once met in Mexico. It's a funny story, but Robin has heard it before. She doesn't have the heart to tell him this: she kind of likes seeing him all animated and cheerful. After all, he's had a rough time lately.
Five minutes later, he's just getting to the good part. "…And then, okay, we're in Koreatown — yes, there's a Koreatown in Mexico City — and she says to me… Tracy!"
Robin yanks her gaze from Barney to the bar. There's not a huge lunch crowd, so it's easy to pick out the woman he's addressing, and at first glance, Robin is… surprised. Tracy is small, practically Lily-sized, with wavy brown hair and big eyes and a stupid, not at all adorable, upturned nose. No signs of implants, bleach, or body glitter. Her dress is cute and flowery like she's fancy or something.
Robin hates her on sight.
"Yeah, I've actually been here before," Tracy is saying. She holds her purse in front of her with both hands, laughing nervously, as Barney leads her over to the booth. "It's kind of crazy you wanted to meet here."
"It's not crazy, it's awesome," Barney says. "The crazy part is that you didn't see me when you were here before." Instead of taking his original seat, he moves to the other side of the table, next to Robin. She scoots over to make room for him, leaving Tracy on the opposite bench by herself.
"Hi," Tracy says, smiling and frowning a tiny bit in confusion.
"Oh, this is my friend Robin," Barney says. "She's part of my gang! I have a gang. I'm the leader. Well, second in command. It's no big. She's here all the time too."
"Nice to meet you," Robin says, with a cool smile. Tracy seems to get the meaning, and shoots her a nervous look before refocusing on Barney.
"So, you're, uh, regulars here?" she asks.
"Yeah, Marshall and Lily live upstairs."
"And they are…?" Tracy prompts.
"Oh, they're also my friends! I'm kind of their inspiration and life coach, you know…" Barney trails off with a smirk, clearly in a good mood. Robin, her own mood sour, picks through the crackers for one that isn't too crumbled. "The five of us are always together."
"Even on dates, apparently," Tracy says wryly, glancing over at Robin.
Barney clears his throat and avoids meeting Robin's eye when she tries to send can you believe this? through telepathy.
"Sorry, am I in the way?" Robin asks Tracy.
"Oh, no, I didn't mean that!" Tracy says. "Um, my bad, I mean, it's not like this is a real date…"
"It's a real date," Barney corrects, a little put out. Both women look at him.
"I was thinking this was like… a preliminary pre-date kind of get together," Tracy says slowly.
Sensing a chink, Robin clears her throat. "I don't know," she says. "He said you were his girlfriend the other day."
"What?" Tracy's eyebrows go up and her eyes widen at Barney. "Uh - seriously? I mean, I'm flattered, I think…?"
"But you're not looking for a relationship right now?" Robin sucks in a breath through her teeth. "I get it. It's tough out there. Barney understands."
"No, I don't," Barney says, narrowing his eyes in confusion at Robin before turning back to Tracy. "And, no, you don't."
"I don't what? Feel flattered?"
"I mean, you wanna date me too," Barney says. "You're wearing makeup and perfume, and your dress has almost no wear on the seams, which means it's either new or one you don't wear a lot, probably because you wear it to impress people. Like me, on this, our first date." He holds up a finger before Tracy can say anything. "Ah-ah-ah. When I met you, you were en route to your boyfriend's and didn't have on any perfume, and were also buying a comb."
Tracy sits back in the booth and crosses her arms. "I don't know whether to be impressed or kinda creeped out," she says after a minute of deliberation. She's blushing a little, and fighting a smile, even as she frowns.
"Be impressed!" Barney says excitedly, and Tracy chuckles.
"Okay, creeper," Tracy says, "besides knowing a weird amount about smells and women's clothing, what do you do? Any job, besides drug store scouting?"
"No one knows," Robin interjects, mostly because she feels relegated to the corner and that kind of is bugging her.
"I work for GNB," Barney says, but he looks at Robin as he says it. She can't quite parse his expression: it's his calculating look, but she doesn't know why.
"Right, but your business card didn't have your actual job," Tracy says, pulling it out of her coat pocket. "It just says 'that guy's awesome.'"
"Heh, you kept it?" Barney smirks at her, and Tracy clears her throat.
"It has your phone number on it. So?"
"I told you, I work at GNB. So what about you?"
"I have a band," Tracy says, cocking her head to the side. Barney smiles, and Robin crosses her arms and slides back against the booth, watching them. Tracy has forgotten her nervousness, sitting forward, elbows on the table; Barney is leaning back, but he's relaxed, smiling. "We mostly do weddings," Tracy says. "I've always wanted to write my own songs but we're basically just a cover band."
"What do you play?" Barney asks. His legs are spread under the table, and his knee is almost touching Robin's leg. She nudges it with hers. He knocks his knee against hers, and she smiles.
"Bass guitar, and I used to sing before Darrell — this douchebag who stole my band — stole my band."
"Bass is kind of lame, but singing is hot," Barney says.
"Okay, that's where you're wrong. The bassist is the key to the whole band! The skeleton holding the music together! Name one big group without a great bassist — oh wait, you can't, there's no such thing."
"Please, the only bassist anyone knows is Paul McCartney, and that's like saying all suits are Armani just because it's the one brand you know."
"Brian Wilson."
"He's not a bassist."
"He plays the base! Look it up! Are you really going to challenge a semi-professional wedding band member on this?"
Robin nudges Barney again, to get his attention, but he's leaning across the table, arguing with Tracy, who is laughing in between her own arguments as she defends the honor of her chosen, lame, musical instrument. Barney is having fun too, Robin can see just looking at him: his eyes are bright and all pretenses at arrogance gone; he gets louder and more indignant the more Tracy challenges him, but it's the dramatic kind of indignant that he doesn't really mean. He's having fun. He likes talking to Tracy.
The conversation shifts from Tracy's band to music, Barney bragging about the groups he saw as a kid, with his groupie mother and roadie father. Tracy seems genuinely impressed that Barney's met ZZ Top. When Barney had first bragged to the gang about that, showing a picture around, Robin had dismissed it with the others as kind of stupid; they're a dumb group full of weird beards. Now she feels stung, hearing Tracy ooh and ahh at Barney's stupid story.
There's a sick tension boiling in her gut. She's angry. She doesn't really know why. She knocks her knee against Barney's, but he ignores it again: she swallows, then slips her foot out of her pump, runs her toes over his sock and ankle, her drink held to her mouth the entire time.
Barney pulls his foot away. "Of course I know about music," he's telling Tracy. "Please. I'm an amazing musician."
"Oh, really?" Tracy chortles.
"Well, I gotta get going," Robin interrupts in a fake cheerful voice that comes out way too loud. Tracy gives her a look, half concerned and half confused, maybe incredulous, maybe what the hell are you even doing here, Robin? No one wants you here, no one gives a crap that you're here. Or something.
"'kay, see you later," Barney says. "I took piano lessons when I was a kid," he continues telling Tracy, his voice smug.
Robin hadn't known that about him.
Her face is hot for some reason, she's angry and humiliated for some reason, as she gathers up her things and heads towards the door. She's barely up the steps before she's texting Ted:
This chick's gotsta go.