Spoilers: Season 3, nothing specific
Summary: "I'm great at comforting insecure and discouraged inebriated women. What? It's true."
A/N: As always, thanks to becoolbec for the beta and generally being awesome.
"You know, it doesn't matter," Robin said once more. "I'm at a great place in my life. I have a good job, a pretty apartment in New York City, great friends, everything is just fine. So, what if I got humiliated on local television. Schenectady is a really difficult word to pronounce."
"Schenectady, Schenectady, Schenectady, Schenectady," Barney enunciated gleefully over and over again.
"It's not like anyone was actually watching, anyway."
"And that, my friend, is precisely why Youtube and viral internet applications were invented. So every single goof of local television newscasters is compiled in one convenient location and made available for the public to ridicule. Well, that and porn, as per use."
"Oh no, you did not."
"You should check out Robin dash the dash stammerer dot com. Good stuff!"
"I am going tokill you," Robin said through gritted teeth.
"Well if it makes you feel better, I'll have you know your Myspace account already received 348 friend requests. They really loved the Babblin' Robin techno mix over there. Aaaand I'm gonna get us some more drinks," Barney screeched, jumping to his feet a fraction of a second before Robin's hand made contact with his face from across the table.
"My life isn't going anywhere," Robin whined, slouching over the table.
"And here it comes!" Barney grinned. "Come on, let it all out. I'm great at comforting insecure and discouraged inebriated women. What? It's true," he added, frowning in response to her reproaching glare.
"The only way you know to comfort insecure and discouraged inebriated women is by helping them out of their clothes."
"You're only saying that because you want me to rip that ridiculously unrevealing top off you. That's the effect I have on distraught women and there's nothing -"
"Oh, shut up. I have a gun in my purse, you know?" she informed him with a warning look that went completely unnoticed.
"I knew you were into perverse sexual role-playing. High five!"
Robin made a pout and begrudgingly clicked her bottle against his glass, before letting her head fall back into her arms.
She didn't mind him pushing her into the cab or supporting her all the way upstairs, but the second she reached her door, it started feeling weird and she shook his hands off.
"I'm good," she said as she stumbled inside and staggered in the general direction of the bathroom.
"Uh uh, mind the couch. Beer?"
"Fridge," Robin waved aimlessly. "And don't 'uh uh' me, I'm not that drunk. Ouch. Couch. Oh, it rhymes," she informed him proudly before shutting the door behind her.
When she came back to the living room feeling somewhat refreshed, Barney was sitting in the middle of the couch, arms streched either side of him. He didn't move when she sat gracelessly by his side.
"I think we should have sex," she said as abruptly as the thought formed in her head. Of course, it sounded a little crazy and came out of nowhere, but now that she was thinking about it, it appeared to be the only reasonable thing to do.
Barney choked on his beer and started coughing frenetically. As Robin clapped his back, it occured to her that it might not be such a good idea after all, and that maybe the insecure and discouraged inebriated woman in her was now doing all the thinking.
"I didn't even see it coming! Man, you're good," she exclaimed, nodding excitedly.
"Oh, you have no idea," he blurted out. The next second, he was shaking his jacket off and frantically pulling on his tie.
The first ten minutes, she thought the whole thing was hilarious, which was odd since she didn't feel so drunk all of a sudden. She giggled as she tugged on his sleeves, snickered when he fumbled with his shoes and chortled like an idiot while he pulled her top over her head.
But then they were half naked and he was kissing her with a communicative enthusiasm, touching her in places friends don't usually touch each other, ever, with a kind of reverence that threw her off balance completely.
And he really knew what he was doing, because that little glitch of panic that was threatening to turn into a full on freak out was almost instantly squashed by a rush of other, very pleasant feelings. Man, he was good.
"That was some serious comforting," she sighed and stretched her sore legs.
"I know," he grinned contentedly and crossed his arms behind his head.
"You don't have to spend the night. I mean, if you don't want to."
"Yeah, I know."
"It doesn't change anything."
"And we're not telling the others."
"Of course we're not telling the others, we'd never hear the end of it."
She clicked off the light but her eyes remained wide open in the dark. Surely it couldn't be that easy.
"I think we should talk about it, though. I mean, not right now, but if we just never mention it again it's gonna make things weird and -"
"Shh. Sleep now."
"Okay," she yawned and turned on her side to face the wall, noting to herself that it didn't feel nearly as weird as it was supposed to.
"Waffles?" Robin repeated, dumbfounded, as she stepped in the kitchen. "I was worried you might have joined some sort of witness protection program by now."
"Oh no, believe me, I don't want to remind the FBI of my existence."
"I don't want to know," she chuckled as she sat opposite him and grabbed a cup of coffee. "So, uh, about last night -"
"Yeah, let's not do that now?"
"But just so you know, whenever you feel blue, or depressed, or melancolic in any way, you should feel free to give me a call. And if I am not otherwise occupied saving the good people of New York from their looming depression, I'd be happy to come around and comfort you."
"That's very generous of you," she replied casually and took a large sip of coffee.
"Well, what can I say. I'm a benefactor."
"You know, since you mention it, I think I'm gonna feel pretty despondent on Friday night."
"Oh, that's terrible," he tipped his head to the side and showed her the most ridiculous compassionate expression she had ever seen. "Say, around 9?"
"I was thinking more like 11, after meeting with the others? I mean, that's usually the time the first signs of despair start to show."
"Awesome," Barney grinned, and she smiled back. Maybe it could be easy and weird-free after all.