A/N: Hello…

This is my first how I met your mother fanfiction, and I'm hoping for it to be pretty long. It will mainly be fluffy, hence the nauseatingly fluffy name- mainly cute moments of Barney and Robin going through pregnancy (whoops, spoiler alert). Of course, the first few chapters will be a bit more feeling-y (it's a word), but I have some pretty sweet ideas that I want to use. Please, please, please leave a review to tell me if you like it…- I'm well aware that my writing sucks, and the baby storyline is pretty cliché, but I couldn't resist writing :)

(Also, I apologize for my English spellings, and any words I use that aren't particularly American. Some words will probably have American spellings, since that's how autocorrect works, so sorry for the inconsistencies)

Do leave a review so that I know whether to continue. Thanks.

"So I guess it's kind of stupid" Robin finished, accenting the word 'stupid' with a swallow. Nervously, she used both hands to brush hair behind her ears before putting them awkwardly onto her knees. She swallowed again, blinking to compose herself, before smiling at the doctor: the sort of shaky smile that she gave when pretending to be okay.

The room was silent, and after spending about an hour there, Robin was eager to leave. Frankly, the whole place made her feel nauseous. (Then again, that wasn't something new). After the Doctor clicked his pen, the place seemed silent, and the only real sound was clicking of her boots against the plastic seat she was perched on. That, and the jittery little breaths she was making.

She hated that there was a tiny part of her that was still hoping, and that even her ridiculous denial issues couldn't shut it down. She hated feeling so exposed. To Robin, it felt like weakness. She glanced up at the clock, then to the doctor again, and bit down on her lip. By the second, she was feeling more and more anxious. "Maybe I should just go…-"

"No, no. Your test results won't be long, Mrs…" he paused to check is clipboard, then raised his eyebrows almost disbelievingly as he said "Sparkles"

Robin nodded. Drumming her fingers on the side of the chair, she tried to prepare herself for the worst. That was a technique she had learned growing up; if you set your expectations low, you were less likely to be disappointed. Trouble was, a strong competitive streak made it difficult for her not to aim high, which left her feeling disappointed quite a bit. Actually, very often.

This was different though. After today, it wouldn't just be her that was affected; Barney would be too.


She was almost regretting not telling him about this. Of course, she couldn't, not when she was so scared of the results. It wouldn't be fair to heap pressure on him, make him feel like he has to be okay with what happens. After all, this isn't the sort of challenge that you can 'accept', or strategically plan, or use crazy lies and extravagant costumes to get what you want.

Today depended on Robin's body. And a part of it that she has no control over.

Shaking her thoughts away from the fact that she had a problem, Robin casted her mind back to a month earlier, letting her mind at least remember how she got here. Anything to stop her from speculating the outcome.

About a month earlier

It was Barneys lips that woke her up, gentle kisses tracing her slope of her cheekbones. Robin smiled, and then groaned with tiredness, screwing up her face and rubbing her eyes. She could feel that Barney was sat up, straddling her, moving his mouth down her neck, and pulling her into a hug. Upon feeling the duvet slip away from her, she made small snorting noises in protest to getting up. In response, her husband shook his head with a little smirk; generally, Robin was pretty damn good at waking up early. This was only to be expected, having become accustomed to the obscure sleep patterns that came with her old 'get up new york job'. She usually was pretty unfazed by early starts.

Recently, she had been feeling oddly fatigued. The fact that she and Barney hadn't managed to get a whole lot of sleep done that night, or most nights for that matter, was no help.

(Nor was the fact that their silk sheets were ridiculously smooth on the skin, and Barney's fingers on the nape of her neck made her want to keep them there for the foreseeable future.)

She flexed her hands, and stretched out her arms, placing them comfortably on her husband's shoulders. Barney moved his arms down to her waist, palm resting on her lower back. He lifted her so that she was upright; all the time, she was kissing him. She briefly broke it off so as to move his hands further upwards, where he could touch her properly, and then resumed.

Barney laughed a little as he felt his hands being dragged up. His left hand abandoned her body and moved up to her hair, clasping a handful of soft brow. Their morning make-out sessions were one of his favorite activities, he would readily admit.

"G'morning" he mumbled to her mouth, slipping his tongue past her teeth. They leaned deeper into the kiss, both with closed eyes. Barney made a noise as he moved his tongue against hers, which was warm and perfect.

A few minutes passed. Robin began to move her hands from his back into his hair, running her nails through the sides and wrapping the other around the top part of his shoulders. Barney moved to kiss down her neck, his tongue immediately finding that one spot around her collar. Lightly, he brushed his lips over it, and Robin replied with a fond "g'morning Barney."

Against the side of her chest, she could feel his thumb stroking, and she remembered that it was a Saturday, and that they had all morning together. She grinned to herself, and smoothed her hands across his chest, loving the way her fingers slid over his abs.

"You wanna help me wake up properly?" She asked softly, an air of seduction creeping into her tone. Here she he pressed her hips closer to Barneys, unbuttoning her shirt and lowering herself onto him. Barney cocked his eyebrow and leant forward to meet her lips again, his reply of 'totally' barely audible over the rustling of sheets.

"Mmh" Robin sighed, having been thoroughly woken up by the blonde next to her. "Who was that from?"

She peered over her husbands back in order to read the text he had just received. Their spooning session had just been interrupted by a smug 'ping' from Barney's phone, and Robin had found this most displeasing. Her leg gave him a little kick from where they were tangled up with his in the sheets, and Barney was subconsciously playing footsie with her. Weirdly enough, she actually enjoyed it. Marriage had allowed them to grow very sentimental. As a rule, Robin disliked most forms of intimacy, always finding it awkward. Plus, she knew for a fact that past-Barney would have a girl reeling backwards on the 'hoe-be-gone sleep system' before he would consider cuddling. Sickeningly enough, love had made her like it. Nestling into Barney's shoulders, or being held by him, were some of the times she was happiest.

She nudged his shoulder with her chin. His arm snaked itself around her, pulling her closer whilst the other one held up the where she could see.

It read:

I need you and Marshall at the bar. Now. Having a girlfriend crisis. –Ted

Robin gave an amused sigh. "Ah, Teddy boy." She burrowed closer to Barney, signalling for the phone so that she could read the message again.

"What do you think the crisis is?" she questioned after scanning it, getting rid of the text and smirking at Barney's screensaver before she locked the phone.

Amidst the cluster of un updated apps, it was a picture of her last 4th of July. She looked royally pissed off in a large American hat, with Barney grinning manically next to her, native flag in tow. The displeased pout on her face highlighted what was a pretty low moment for her, a result of losing a Barney-bet.

"-And you should really change that picture." She nodded pertly, trying to stop making eye contact with her glare in the photo.

"Hey," Barney said, holding his hands up mockingly. "You asked me not to have the lingerie photo. So I changed it." He traced the side of her cheek on the photo with his thumb.

"Although I prefer the way you look in this one." He performed a few quick taps on the phone, producing the picture of his wife in a meagre amount of black and pink lace. "Certainly a lot more skin on show…" Hee added promiscuously, leaning towards her. Robin slapped his face away playfully.

"I'm not going again until I've had breakfast." She informed him, now deadly serious. "I swear I haven't been this hungry since" She paused in order to produce a good example "Since that time a few years ago, when Marshall was burger hunting."

"Yeah… and you finished your detox early?" added Barney, remembering. Then his expression turned.

"And you tried to eat garbage."

"Ah- hey there," Robin acted indignant, "I hadn't eaten in days." She said dramatically, trying to justify herself. "Besides, It was in the wrapper, and mhf-"

Her complaint was cut short by his lips on hers again, a quick peck on her mouth, then nose, before moving away to finally get up. At about noon.

He swung his legs out of the bed, and extended his arms in front of him, clicking his joints before standing up. Robin watched the muscles move in his back. Despite the fact that they she had spent most of the morning gripping them, she really wanted to touch them again.

As he stood up, he felt a tugging on his arm.

"Are you actually leaving me for Ted and Marshall." She said, a tiny bit grumpily, whilst he walked over to the suit room to grab a pair of pants. Never had Robin been the clingy wife who never let her husband see his friends, on the contrary- after years of denying her feelings, she was well equipped to spent time apart from Barney. But she was enjoying the snuggling, and actually wanted to continue.

"I have to go. It's a crisis."

His tone went up on crisis, as he sarcastically cocked his head. Robin shook hers with that slightly entertained sigh-smile that she always responded to his jokes with. Next to her, she realized that Barney's pillow was no longer in use, so she reached over to steal it. She plumped it up and used it to prop herself up against the bedframe.

Noticing, he muttered "You didn't need a pillow earlier".

He knew to dodge out of the way as Robin aimed the pillow at him; he was incorrigible, she thought. Nonetheless, she decided to divert the topic back to Ted. Their pillow fights never resolved easily, (you could say). And she really was way too hungry for any more of that until later.

"What do you think it is this time" she asked, and Barney shrugged with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

Ever since Ted began dating Tabatha, an uncanny trend of calling his friends for hugely mundane advice had begun. The whole gang loved Tabby, and the fact that Ted finally found a relationship in which the girl was equally couple-y.

"Do you remember that time when I got a call at 3 in the morning asking what the best type of maple syrup for brunch was."

Barney made a face to show that yes he did recall that event, because he too was woken up. He started to speak in his almost cartoonish voice, one that he reserved specially for making fun of others.

"Gee, I don't know what this one is going to be about…- maybe he doesn't know how many roses and chocolate boxes and marching bands are too many in one day." she laughed, which only prompted him to continue "or maybe he wants to know if gingerbread and honeynut scented candles would be too overpowering for a romantic evening,"

"Or" butted in Robin, "maybe he's wondering why his friend Barney isn't at the bar."

She got up out of bed to walk over to her husband, who had darted into his en-suite suit room to select a tie.

"Well, I'll be there in about 20 mi-" Barney stopped mid sentence as he stepped out of the suit room, tie half tied and collar sticking out.

"You are wearing a sheet." He stated bluntly, raking his eyes over his wife, who was binding the sheet around her as revealingly as she could.

"Yes," She nodded, raising an eyebrow. "and you are late"

"But- body," He told her incoherently, gesturing to her very much on display figure.

"Yes Barney, it's a body."

"Hot body."


"Touch body?"

She smacked at his arms, waving him out of the room. "go."

He licked his lips, not showing much sign of going.

"Seriously, leave, go help Ted with whatever string quartet based calamity he's having."

Knotting his tie and grabbing a jacket from the chair Barney made for the door. "Sounds like somebody is trying to get rid of me."

"Yeah. Well. Maybe it's so I can get you back sooner," she admitted, internally kicking herself for the in the cliché. She ran her hand over his now suited-up chest, feeling her fingers grasp around the tie. She shook herself.

"Go." She reiterated, pressing her palm against his front to smooth out his shirt. She kissed him again, and then batted him off as she noticed his hands creeping over her boobs.

"Later, sweetie." he called sarcastically as he left the room. Footsteps made their way to the door before it slammed, clicking automatically to announce that it was locked.

She chuckled "idiot" under her breath.

Now fully showered and breakfasted, Robin wandered through to the kitchen. She leant back against the surface and pressed the button on the kettle, which began a familiar rumbling as the water started to boil. Reaching up to the mug cupboard, she chose her favourite Canadian flag crup. For a while, she just held it in her hand and thought about the morning she and Barney just had. A blissful smile spread over hear face as she rotated the mug with her thumbs and looked down. It sometimes still surprised her how happy she was, and in a relationship of all things

She, Robin Scherbatsky, was married, and would actually enjoy spending lazy Saturdays planning a surprise for her husband, and to hell with anybody who told her it made her any less independent and awesome. She felt really damn happy with Barney. Plus, the surprise was going to be far from innocent; she was thinking of breaking out the French underwear that she had been saving for his birthday, but screw it- the satin lingerie was all kinds of hot, and she felt like having a really legendary evening.

Although, on the subject of going out, she just didn't really feel like it at the moment. Shopping with Lily, or spending hours hanging out at the bar had been really tiring her out recently. She couldn't really find an explanation for it, but since it's probably just work, or not drinking enough water or something. It was probably something pointless, anyway. Work was pretty stressful at the moment. So she stashed the idea to the back of her mind.

The low hum of the kettle jilted to a halt, at which point Robin made the decision to treat herself to a cup of hot chocolate.

Over the years, it had kind of become a guilty pleasure of hers. Robin Scherbatsky was the type of girl who hated to conform to cutesy rituals; normally she liked her coffee black, and her scotch neat.

There was something about hot chocolate, though, that enticed her. She would never admit it, she almost felt she was betraying her personality, but she liked hot chocolate as sweet as it came, with whipped cream and all that crap.

It was almost embarrassing. Yes, she could concede that she enjoyed a Minnesota tidal wave, and sip the swirly straw somewhat ironically. But she really didn't feel like telling anybody that she liked to curl up and drink cocoa. Everything about the 'warm milk' based drink screamed twee.

However, she still drank it, even now. She remembered days as a kid, when her Dad was ignoring her, or being particularly detached. One time specifically, she had been bought a brand new blue party dress from her Mom. Obviously, dresses were rare, so she had felt kind of like a princess wearing it. She distinctly remembered twirling in front of the only full length mirror in the house, and then rushing through to show her Dad. Most parents would probably have complimented her, but of course, he told her off for being a 'pansy'.

She had cried, and the only thing to console her was a cup of cocoa, made quickly by her mother, before an argument between her parents -over the dress- ensued.

Chocolate felt comforting, it's heat flowing down her throat like security. Her small frame had huddled in the kitchen chair which was much too large for her, snuffling into the warm drink and vowing that she'd never let her Dad upset her again.

Blinking, Robin drifted back to reality, feeling something wet hit her hand, and she realized that she was actually crying. She bit her lip hard. Why the hell was she being so emotional?

Not cool, Scherbatsky, she told herself firmly, wiping the tear away with a swift brush of her forefinger.

She forcefully placed the cup down and shook sweet powder into the bottom. For a while, she deliberated the sugar to mixture ratio. As she became content with the amount, and was about to pick the kettle up, she felt her stomach jump, and then her legs were running her to the bathroom.

Suddenly, she wasn't pouring out cocoa any more. She was clutching the cold plastic rim of the toilet as her head lurch forward, mouth suddenly bitter. She didn't have Barney to hold back her hair or hold her as she threw up, which scared her more than she would have expected.

Back at the hospital

Robin told the doctor that she needed to go to the bathroom, and swiftly departed the room. She genuinely considered leaving right then and there, but of course she couldn't.

She wanted answers. About a month ago, she had been cheerfully oblivious to the fact that she had missed her period. It was that throwing up in the bathroom for the first time that began to tell her that something might be wrong. Or, perhaps, that something was right? She wasn't sure. Frankly, she was just confused. Confused about what she wanted, and very confused about what she was letting herself want.

Slowly, she got up and walked over to shove a quarter into the hospital coffee machine. She watched as it rumbled and dispensed an unappetizing looking liquid into a brown paper cup. At the same time as she pulled it out of the metal gripper, she heard her name being called.

Such a lot had gone on since that day. Part of her wanted to just go home, because she was feeling the panic set in, along with her natural instinct to divert herself from problems and emotions.

Ah, the panic. Life as a married woman had taught her how to reduce it, but not stop it entirely. She snapped her eyes shut for a second, and pictured one of the many mornings she had been woken up with hugs and affection. Upon opening them again her bottom lip quivered a little as if she expected Barney's to be resting on it.

Her eye line dropped to the mid-brown liquid. It was lightly foamy and still swirling around after being wrenched, a little too soon, from the machine.

She gulped air before bringing the cup to her mouth. The texture of the cup felt horrible against her lips, and the first sip burnt her tongue, then the back of her throat. It was weak and fairly tasteless, but the familiarity of the drink gave her the courage to re-approach the room. Man, she wanted to pray for good news, only she wasn't entirely sure what good news was. Except she knew that she was tightly clenching the cup, letting the warmth seep through to her fingers.

It was the best substitute for Barney's hand whilst she found out if she was pregnant or not.