last01standing (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
last01standing) wrote2009-04-30 07:25 pm
last01standing) wrote2009-04-30 07:25 pm
Entry tags:
HIMYM fic: Faces Through the Veil of Smoke [4/8, Barney/Robin, Marshall/Lily]
Title: Faces Through the Veil of Smoke
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is by no means mine.
Summary: It’s a ghost story. Except for all the ways it’s not.
Author's note: Very, very AU. But you can still expect spoilers through Shelter Island. [Barney/Robin, Marshall/Lily]
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
Faces Through the Veil of Smoke
CHAPTER 4
She goes back to MacLaren’s the next night because she’s Robin Scherbatsky. She doesn’t let things like massive mental breakdowns stop her from doing what she wants to do. Ted and Marshall both leap up to greet her and the look of relief in their eyes tells her they hadn’t expected to see her again.
“Hey, Robin,” Ted says, “I’m really, really sorry about last night. We didn’t mean to make things uncomfortable.”
“See,” Marshall says. “We had this friend who was always saying stuff like that. Everything always high five, what up, legen—wait for it---”
“Dary,” Ted finishes, laughing fondly. “Legendary. And then there were all the times he was on us to suit up!”
“And play laser tag!”
“Or have you met Ted?”
“Or hit a strip club.”
“And you haven’t heard the liberty bell story. Oh, that one really was legendary.”
It goes on like this for more than an hour. Ted and Marshall laughing and reminiscing while Robin listens and smiles. She thinks she catches sight of the blonde watching them from the bar with a far off look in his eyes. Barney Stinson? she wants to ask him. Are you Barney Stinson? She doesn’t know if putting a name to him makes things better or worse.
Finally Ted and Marshall lapse into silence. Ted stares at his beer. Marshall has a distant smile on his face. Robin clears her throat. “What happened to him?”
Ted picks at the edge of his beer’s label. “He was hit by a bus.”
Just like that the conversation’s over.
***
Marshall’s ex lives in Robin’s building.
She finds this out by accident as she heads out the door and toward her nearest caffeine fix. It just sort of happens and happens and happens until it’s a habit. Just like hiding her laughter as the man in the suit (Barney Stinson) cracks a joke that only she can hear or begs her for a high five.
She’s secretly started to enjoy these little encounters.
And she feels really, really guilty for allowing herself to get to that place but it’s not like she was looking to befriend the woman who dumped one of her best friends two months before their wedding day. She’s definitely not going to be calling up Stella for a lunch date.
This is different.
Except for all the ways it’s exactly the same.
***
Later it’s just her and Ted and she has this weird flashback to the night she met him, to the kissing him and laughing with him. She wonders if things would be different if they were different. Wonders if they would have kept kissing, kept going until the story ended with Mr. and Mrs. Ted Mosby, a white picket fence and 2.5 kids. She thinks about it for a moment but then dismisses it because she likes what she has now. There’s no need to change it.
She suggests he hook up with the unibrowed girl at the end of the bar. Ted suggests a broad broken nosed brunette without realizing that the broken nose made him exactly Robin’s type. Neither of them act on the suggestions and Robin imagines what the rest of them must think. Maybe that she and Ted are a couple. That would explain the lack of the normal parade of men coming to hit on her.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” she blurts.
“No,” Ted answers, frowning. “Why? Do you?”
“No!” Robin says. She sounds defensive. “It’s ridiculous. I mean when you’re dead you’re dead.”
“If you’re looking for ghost stories, ask Marshall.” Ted runs a hand through his hair. He looks tired. There are dark circles around his eyes. His hair is missing his normal product, hanging limply against his forehead. He has been on edge lately. His firm is making staff cuts and he’s on the bubble.
“Marshall, huh?”
“Yeah,” Ted laughs dryly. “Don’t even get him started on Nessy. Why are you interested?”
“I’m working on a story,” Robin lies easily. “They want me looking into a haunted bar.”
“Wow,” Ted says. “I honestly can’t think of a worse person for that story.”
“I think I’m going to take that as a compliment,” Robin says.
She blinks and the scene shifts slightly and suddenly the blonde, wearing yet another well tailored suit---Barney Stinson—is sitting next to her, one hand thrown casually over the back of the booth, his left hand dangling just inches above her shoulder. This close, she should be able to feel the warmth of his arm, of his breath on her neck.
Instead she just feels cold. “You would disrespect undead Americans, Scherbatsky,” he says. “Where is your sense of patriotism?”
“I’m from Canada,” Robin hisses.
“Yeah,” Ted drawls. “I know. What’s you’re point?”
“My point?” Robin sputters. She can feel the blonde’s eyes on her, can imagine the upward turn of his lips, the amusement twinkling in the eyes. She doesn’t look at him. “My point is that we Canadians are logical, reasoning people who don’t need reason to be scared of the dark.”
“So you’re saying you’re scared of the dark?” Ted extrapolates. He’s playing with his empty beer bottle, smirking.
“No one likes the dark!”
Beside her, Barney Stinson is laughing, laughing so hard that it should be echoing across the bar but the sound dies the instant it reaches her ears.
***
The next day, Marshall corners her on the street and says, “You’re doing a story about ghosts and you told Ted before me? Robin, how could you?”
“Sorry?”
He steers her into the bar, sits her down and says seriously, “I saw a ghost, once.”
She finds herself scanning the bar, looking for the now familiar face. “Really?” she asks, sounding not nearly as skeptical as she should. According to Ted, Marshall is an expert on UFOs, vampires, gremlins and teleportation.
“Really?” Robin asks. “Was it someone you knew?” Was it Barney Stinson?
“No,” Marshall says. “It was back with I was a kid in Minnesota. I only saw her a few times but sometimes when I was looking at our house at night, I’d see this really old women sitting next to the window. But when I went inside, there was no one there.”
“She never—” Robin hesitated. “She never talked to you did she?”
“Scared the bejeezes out of me a few times, but no, never said a word.”
“Hypothetically, do ghost usually do the creepy shadow thing or do they, you know, come out in daylight and strike up a conversation.”
Marshall frowns. “What kind of ghosts have you been dealing with?”
“Not me personally,” Robin says, backpedaling. “One of the people I interviewed. For the story.”
Before Marshall can press, Ted’s there, pale-faced and wide eyed. “Guys,” he says. “I have news.” He sits down heavily next to Robin. “Victoria’s back in town.”
***
“She’s Ted’s what if girl,” Marshall tells her later. “They tried this whole long distance thing for about a month but you know how that ends up.”
“Crash and burn?”
“More like fizzled and died.”
***
“Oh, God,” Barney moans. “Brunch. He’s going to start going to brunch again. May the world have mercy on all who seek to escape the terrible sight of Ted in coupledom.”
***
“I already know,” Lily says, practically dancing as she pays for her coffee. “Who do you think accidentally bumped into her on the street and planted the idea in her head? Me that’s who!”
***
Ted spends about three hours telling Robin and Marshall how he and Victoria met. A wedding, a perfect night. A drum roll but no finale. The mad rush to find her again. The slow build of a relationship. Cupcakes and awesome air kicks.
“I was there,” Barney tells her, leaning conspiratorially across. “And trust me, it was even lamer than it sounded.”
Robin smiles, imagining the frustration Barney must have felt sandwiched between Marshall and Lily and Ted and Victoria. Ted mistakes it as the nostalgic grin appropriate for the end of a fairy tale. “I know right?” he says. “It was so romantic.”
She’s always known Ted was at least twenty percent girl. She mentally bumps her estimate up to thirty. Beside her, Marshall is smiling fondly. She doesn’t think Marshall as big a romantic as Ted. He’s just been too long without a serious girlfriend. Barney’s still got one week left before he was wrong about Lily and the three-week hook up.
Ted fidgets in his seat. “How’s my hair?”
“Ted, the hair’s fine,” Robin says. Thirty-five percent girl. “Doesn’t look at all like you spend an hour working on it.
“You could probably asphyxiate a small child with all that product,” Barney adds. “My God, have you no penis?”
***
Her first assessment of Victoria is somewhat colored by circumstance. Well really, no, that’s her second opinion. Her first impression is pretty, big smile, cute shoes. Victoria gives Marshall a hug and Ted kisses her on the cheek and Robin feels out of place. Feels like this is something she missed, a glimpse back to the time where both her friends were happy.
When she wasn’t here.
But Victoria smiles at her and holds out a hand and she thinks the maybe she can get used to this. And she keeps thinking that until right up Victoria sits down and that second impression hits her hard.
Because Victoria sits down in the seat right next to Ted.
Because Victoria sits down in Barney’s seat.
Because Victoria sits down and Barney’s just gone.
She feels her breath catch in her throat. Black spots flash across her vision. Victoria is saying something about Germany and her super important dessert scholarship but Robin can’t focus.
For a time it had seemed that all of the wrongness that filled her life had sunk to the bottom, settling so completely that it seemed there was nothing but clear water. But Victoria is an irritant, an agitation, stirring the muddy water until it is almost impossible to see.
She fights the urge to run, to get as far from this place as possible, to quit her job and move to Argentina to...
She stays.
She stays and watches and hopes for the familiar flash of blond hair that never comes back.
***
The next morning over coffee with Lily she takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and says, “A few months ago, I started seeing this ghost.”
***
I'm planning more this weekend.
| 5 |
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is by no means mine.
Summary: It’s a ghost story. Except for all the ways it’s not.
Author's note: Very, very AU. But you can still expect spoilers through Shelter Island. [Barney/Robin, Marshall/Lily]
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
CHAPTER 4
She goes back to MacLaren’s the next night because she’s Robin Scherbatsky. She doesn’t let things like massive mental breakdowns stop her from doing what she wants to do. Ted and Marshall both leap up to greet her and the look of relief in their eyes tells her they hadn’t expected to see her again.
“Hey, Robin,” Ted says, “I’m really, really sorry about last night. We didn’t mean to make things uncomfortable.”
“See,” Marshall says. “We had this friend who was always saying stuff like that. Everything always high five, what up, legen—wait for it---”
“Dary,” Ted finishes, laughing fondly. “Legendary. And then there were all the times he was on us to suit up!”
“And play laser tag!”
“Or have you met Ted?”
“Or hit a strip club.”
“And you haven’t heard the liberty bell story. Oh, that one really was legendary.”
It goes on like this for more than an hour. Ted and Marshall laughing and reminiscing while Robin listens and smiles. She thinks she catches sight of the blonde watching them from the bar with a far off look in his eyes. Barney Stinson? she wants to ask him. Are you Barney Stinson? She doesn’t know if putting a name to him makes things better or worse.
Finally Ted and Marshall lapse into silence. Ted stares at his beer. Marshall has a distant smile on his face. Robin clears her throat. “What happened to him?”
Ted picks at the edge of his beer’s label. “He was hit by a bus.”
Just like that the conversation’s over.
Marshall’s ex lives in Robin’s building.
She finds this out by accident as she heads out the door and toward her nearest caffeine fix. It just sort of happens and happens and happens until it’s a habit. Just like hiding her laughter as the man in the suit (Barney Stinson) cracks a joke that only she can hear or begs her for a high five.
She’s secretly started to enjoy these little encounters.
And she feels really, really guilty for allowing herself to get to that place but it’s not like she was looking to befriend the woman who dumped one of her best friends two months before their wedding day. She’s definitely not going to be calling up Stella for a lunch date.
This is different.
Except for all the ways it’s exactly the same.
Later it’s just her and Ted and she has this weird flashback to the night she met him, to the kissing him and laughing with him. She wonders if things would be different if they were different. Wonders if they would have kept kissing, kept going until the story ended with Mr. and Mrs. Ted Mosby, a white picket fence and 2.5 kids. She thinks about it for a moment but then dismisses it because she likes what she has now. There’s no need to change it.
She suggests he hook up with the unibrowed girl at the end of the bar. Ted suggests a broad broken nosed brunette without realizing that the broken nose made him exactly Robin’s type. Neither of them act on the suggestions and Robin imagines what the rest of them must think. Maybe that she and Ted are a couple. That would explain the lack of the normal parade of men coming to hit on her.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” she blurts.
“No,” Ted answers, frowning. “Why? Do you?”
“No!” Robin says. She sounds defensive. “It’s ridiculous. I mean when you’re dead you’re dead.”
“If you’re looking for ghost stories, ask Marshall.” Ted runs a hand through his hair. He looks tired. There are dark circles around his eyes. His hair is missing his normal product, hanging limply against his forehead. He has been on edge lately. His firm is making staff cuts and he’s on the bubble.
“Marshall, huh?”
“Yeah,” Ted laughs dryly. “Don’t even get him started on Nessy. Why are you interested?”
“I’m working on a story,” Robin lies easily. “They want me looking into a haunted bar.”
“Wow,” Ted says. “I honestly can’t think of a worse person for that story.”
“I think I’m going to take that as a compliment,” Robin says.
She blinks and the scene shifts slightly and suddenly the blonde, wearing yet another well tailored suit---Barney Stinson—is sitting next to her, one hand thrown casually over the back of the booth, his left hand dangling just inches above her shoulder. This close, she should be able to feel the warmth of his arm, of his breath on her neck.
Instead she just feels cold. “You would disrespect undead Americans, Scherbatsky,” he says. “Where is your sense of patriotism?”
“I’m from Canada,” Robin hisses.
“Yeah,” Ted drawls. “I know. What’s you’re point?”
“My point?” Robin sputters. She can feel the blonde’s eyes on her, can imagine the upward turn of his lips, the amusement twinkling in the eyes. She doesn’t look at him. “My point is that we Canadians are logical, reasoning people who don’t need reason to be scared of the dark.”
“So you’re saying you’re scared of the dark?” Ted extrapolates. He’s playing with his empty beer bottle, smirking.
“No one likes the dark!”
Beside her, Barney Stinson is laughing, laughing so hard that it should be echoing across the bar but the sound dies the instant it reaches her ears.
The next day, Marshall corners her on the street and says, “You’re doing a story about ghosts and you told Ted before me? Robin, how could you?”
“Sorry?”
He steers her into the bar, sits her down and says seriously, “I saw a ghost, once.”
She finds herself scanning the bar, looking for the now familiar face. “Really?” she asks, sounding not nearly as skeptical as she should. According to Ted, Marshall is an expert on UFOs, vampires, gremlins and teleportation.
“Really?” Robin asks. “Was it someone you knew?” Was it Barney Stinson?
“No,” Marshall says. “It was back with I was a kid in Minnesota. I only saw her a few times but sometimes when I was looking at our house at night, I’d see this really old women sitting next to the window. But when I went inside, there was no one there.”
“She never—” Robin hesitated. “She never talked to you did she?”
“Scared the bejeezes out of me a few times, but no, never said a word.”
“Hypothetically, do ghost usually do the creepy shadow thing or do they, you know, come out in daylight and strike up a conversation.”
Marshall frowns. “What kind of ghosts have you been dealing with?”
“Not me personally,” Robin says, backpedaling. “One of the people I interviewed. For the story.”
Before Marshall can press, Ted’s there, pale-faced and wide eyed. “Guys,” he says. “I have news.” He sits down heavily next to Robin. “Victoria’s back in town.”
“She’s Ted’s what if girl,” Marshall tells her later. “They tried this whole long distance thing for about a month but you know how that ends up.”
“Crash and burn?”
“More like fizzled and died.”
“Oh, God,” Barney moans. “Brunch. He’s going to start going to brunch again. May the world have mercy on all who seek to escape the terrible sight of Ted in coupledom.”
“I already know,” Lily says, practically dancing as she pays for her coffee. “Who do you think accidentally bumped into her on the street and planted the idea in her head? Me that’s who!”
Ted spends about three hours telling Robin and Marshall how he and Victoria met. A wedding, a perfect night. A drum roll but no finale. The mad rush to find her again. The slow build of a relationship. Cupcakes and awesome air kicks.
“I was there,” Barney tells her, leaning conspiratorially across. “And trust me, it was even lamer than it sounded.”
Robin smiles, imagining the frustration Barney must have felt sandwiched between Marshall and Lily and Ted and Victoria. Ted mistakes it as the nostalgic grin appropriate for the end of a fairy tale. “I know right?” he says. “It was so romantic.”
She’s always known Ted was at least twenty percent girl. She mentally bumps her estimate up to thirty. Beside her, Marshall is smiling fondly. She doesn’t think Marshall as big a romantic as Ted. He’s just been too long without a serious girlfriend. Barney’s still got one week left before he was wrong about Lily and the three-week hook up.
Ted fidgets in his seat. “How’s my hair?”
“Ted, the hair’s fine,” Robin says. Thirty-five percent girl. “Doesn’t look at all like you spend an hour working on it.
“You could probably asphyxiate a small child with all that product,” Barney adds. “My God, have you no penis?”
Her first assessment of Victoria is somewhat colored by circumstance. Well really, no, that’s her second opinion. Her first impression is pretty, big smile, cute shoes. Victoria gives Marshall a hug and Ted kisses her on the cheek and Robin feels out of place. Feels like this is something she missed, a glimpse back to the time where both her friends were happy.
When she wasn’t here.
But Victoria smiles at her and holds out a hand and she thinks the maybe she can get used to this. And she keeps thinking that until right up Victoria sits down and that second impression hits her hard.
Because Victoria sits down in the seat right next to Ted.
Because Victoria sits down in Barney’s seat.
Because Victoria sits down and Barney’s just gone.
She feels her breath catch in her throat. Black spots flash across her vision. Victoria is saying something about Germany and her super important dessert scholarship but Robin can’t focus.
For a time it had seemed that all of the wrongness that filled her life had sunk to the bottom, settling so completely that it seemed there was nothing but clear water. But Victoria is an irritant, an agitation, stirring the muddy water until it is almost impossible to see.
She fights the urge to run, to get as far from this place as possible, to quit her job and move to Argentina to...
She stays.
She stays and watches and hopes for the familiar flash of blond hair that never comes back.
The next morning over coffee with Lily she takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and says, “A few months ago, I started seeing this ghost.”
I'm planning more this weekend.
| 5 |